Secret Slasha — The Buffy the Vampire Slayer & Angel Slash Fanfiction Secret Santa Project
Secret Slasha — The Buffy the Vampire Slayer & Angel Slash Fanfiction Secret Santa Project

By Izzybeth
For Wendy

The heels of Drusilla's shoes drummed on the carpeting as she lay on the floor, knees bent, skirts bunched around her thighs, hair flung wildly around her head, but it was the singing that caught Darla's attention. The new vampire trilled nonsense at a sun she would never see again, waving her hands back and forth and smiling at the ceiling.

Darla sighed from the doorway. What a nuisance this addition was turning out to be. Always staring into space, prattling incoherencies, never paying any mind to what her sire said... not that Angelus was any help, anyway. He'd done the hard work of driving her mad; now all he wanted out of the girl was a nice, wet, compliant hole to stick his prick into.

And the way they'd look at her sometimes, just after they'd fucked. Drusilla giggling and twirling her fingers in the air, and Angelus smirking. At her, his own sire! It was intolerable. Their whirlwind was gone, replaced by a helpless lunatic.

Darla strode into the room. "Get up."

"Don't stand in the sun, Grandmum, your lovely face will wither."

"Get up, didn't you hear me?" Darla snatched a dancing hand and yanked Drusilla onto her feet. She watched blankly as Drusilla tottered on her heels for a moment and steadied herself, beaming.

"I heard you, Grandmum."

"Stop calling me that."

"But you are. You're Daddy's mummy. With the sun in your hair and the moon in your mouth and ever so ancient." Drusilla reached out and wound one of Darla's curls around a finger.

Darla rolled her eyes. "I prefer 'ageless,' thank you." She removed Drusilla's finger from her hair and took her by the shoulders. "You really can't keep on like this, you know." Drusilla cocked her head to one side, like a baby bird. "This... this instability. You're going to get yourself killed. And then Angelus will sulk and break things like the great overgrown boy he is," she added, half to herself.

Drusilla laughed, a tinkling of broken bells. "Daddy's not a boy, Daddy's a tiger. A killer. They brought him back from India to do tricks in the circus, but he escaped. Ran away to kill things."

"Fine, he's a tiger." Darla clamped her fingers around Drusilla's chin. "Listen to me. I know my boy drove your mind away, but there are things you must understand now that you're one of us. Such as, sun is bad." She shoved Drusilla's face up toward the ceiling. "If you go outside during the day, you'll burn up."


"Yes, a torch made of you. Not a pretty sight."

"Bright burning red and yellow." Drusilla backed away from Darla's grip. "Like pomegranates and lemons."

Fruit, now? Darla lost what little patience she had. "No going outside during the day. Only nighttime. Understand?"

"Cake and eggs. Little Amelia's hands all sticky. Mother won't be pleased, must wash up. Must wash up. Must wash up." Drusilla wiped her hands frantically on her dress, her face a mask of fear and despair.

"Sober up." Darla shoved Drusilla roughly to the floor. Her skirts twitched behind her as she stalked out of the room, ignoring Drusilla's wretched, quavering wails.


Darla dragged Drusilla back from the bright daylight by a fistful of dark curls and kicked the door shut. "Dozy cow!" In the foyer, a handful of minions stood and stared while Drusilla squealed in pain. Darla glared at them. "Out! All of you, get out!" The minions scattered, and Darla flung Drusilla to the floor with a vicious twist to her hair. "You fool. What in the hell were you thinking?"

"Daddy's gone." Drusilla's eyes were vacant.

"He'll be back tonight." Inwardly, Darla was berating herself. Why had she saved the idiot child? It would have been so simple to just let her walk into the sunlight. Little pile of ash on the doorstep, sorry, Angelus, there was no stopping her. And Darla would have her whirlwind back. Damn it to hell anyway.

A yellow stripe of light cut the foyer in half, let in through a small gap in the heavy curtains. Dust in the air danced through the light, and Drusilla's fingers twitched toward it. Darla narrowed her eyes, but did not move. Drusilla reached up, eyes wide, and let her fingers glide along the strip of light. One fingertip dipped into the sunlight, and burst into a tiny flame. Drusilla shrieked and scrambled away, sticking her burned finger in her mouth. Her face had shifted into ridges and fangs. Darla sniffed at Drusilla's lack of control.

"You see?" Darla tugged the gap in the curtains closed irritably, careful not to let the daylight touch her. "You burn."

"Like little matchsticks. It hurt." Drusilla examined her fingertip and started to laugh, her true face melting away. She put a hand up to the back of her head and patted her hair gently. "You pulled my hair. Schoolgirl." She got to her feet gracefully and stepped up close to Darla. Too close for Darla's liking. "That hurt too." Drusilla pressed close to Darla, smiling softly. "It was nice."

Darla couldn't back up; she was held against the window, her body pulling at the curtains, forming a gap between them again. She tried to squirm away from the light, but Drusilla held her fast. "Drusilla. Let me go."

Drusilla giggled and shook her head, as though it were a game. "Why, Grandmum? Don't you want to play?"

"Stop calling me that," Darla snarled, grinding her teeth. "And no. I don't. Now let me go or you will regret it." Darla indulged in a momentary fantasy of yanking the drapes open, covering herself with them and letting the little ass burn to a fine powder. If it weren't for Angelus.

Drusilla backed away from Darla, just enough to let her slip by. "I only want to play. And Daddy's gone and I'm so very alone."

"He'll be back tonight." Darla straightened her skirts. "Why don't you go have a snack?" She asked with a weary sigh. "There are quite a few fresh humans in the cellar."

"A pretty girl."

"Whatever you like, just let me be."

"Hair like sunlight, eyes like trees. Pinch her toes and make her sneeze." Drusilla wandered down the hall, holding both sides of one conversation.

Closing the curtains again, Darla wondered what was to be done.