While the Cats Suffer, the Mice Strategise
Characters: Drusilla and Lindsey (and every one in between!)
Summary: Lindsey is the pretty peach Drusilla has to thank for her return to the family.
Timeline: mid-The Trial, AtS Season 2
Disclaimer: I don't own Joss' and ME's toys.
A/N: Thanks to yourlibrarian for the read-through. Feel a bit silly saying this, but please don't read this if you've not seen that episode, because DUDE! the bit at the end is obviously worth not knowing about 'til you've seen it ;)
Lindsey followed the corridor as it led him to the locked door, the security guards a respectable five paces behind him. Punching the combination he had devised into the keypad, the door gave with a hushed 'whoosh'. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkened, spare room, but when they did, they were drawn to the beautiful woman sitting in the centre of the room. She was brushing her hair so that it crackled in the oppressive atmosphere; her flawless alabaster arm catching the light as it passed down the length of her coal-dark hair, falling to her dress, the colour of flowing blood, on the down-stroke, then starting all over again. Damn, all of them were just so irresistible. No wonder they caused so much havoc.
"Drusilla?" he whispered, wary of her reaction, but lulled too by the rhythm of her arm. "Are you ready?"
The vampire appeared not to hear him, and he shuffled his feet, and picked a piece of lint from his $1000 suit, waiting for her reply, but allowing her to think it was all that mattered in the world to him. Darla had taught him a thing or two about devotion. He cleared his throat, once his impatience began to get the better of him, to repose the question but she snapped her head up, placed her hairbrush beside her and looked at him.
"Can't have a party without invitations."
"No," he conceded, smiling through the fear her gaze was inspiring, "but this is a party we're gonna crash."
She began then to laugh, a high-pitched scraping noise that cut to his bones. "What fun we shall have!" she managed, between giggles. "Pity Miss Edith will miss the reunion."
As if this mystery name was a magic charm, she stopped laughing, rose and took two steps toward him, gliding as if walking across marble. She cupped his chin between her red-dipped fingers. He heard the guards reach for their weapons.
"Stand down," Lindsey cautioned, but never taking his eyes off hers. "We're all friends here, aren't we Drusilla? We all want the same thing?"
She nodded and smiled, and walked around Lindsey in a large arc. "Bad soldiers," she admonished. "Speak when you're spoken to. And not before!"
Then she stood before him and cocked her head, inspecting him. "Is it really grandmum you want? The flowers that grow in the pretty hothouse sway and whisper something different. But they do tell me that you're pretty. Pretty as a peach about to be plucked and licked and devoured. Juicy too. Yummy yum."
"I always liked peaches," Lindsey acquiesced, challenging her with his false calm. "My mom used to make peach cobbler. It was my favourite."
Drusilla nodded, as if he'd said exactly what she had expected him to. "Tasty peach," she crooned, running her finger across his cheekbone as she looked down on him. "We'll be a family again. Only Daddy likes you differently than Willie. You don't yap as much. Yap, yap, yap, yap." She snapped her index finger and thumb together to accentuate the noise. "You're a good dog that sleeps, aren't you?"
"I get the job done," he agreed. "I found you didn't I? And together we're gonna make all your dreams come true, darlin'."
She smiled a broad, fulsome smile at him and walked back to her seat. With her back to him she said, "Dreams can sometimes lead to nightmares. I like my pain with a side of cream, thank you very much. Nasty place, Brazil. Never liked it. Too many distractions. Quite like it here. Shiny. Bright. New." She turned around to face him. "You'll never get Daddy, no, no, no. Even though you think you have. And he does want you. But," she sighed wearily, "the Angel-Beast will always get in the way." She paused and tipped her head to the side, then said in a much brighter voice, "But you will my Spike. Naughty Spike, tsk tsk," and she rubbed her index fingers rapidly together, "he always misbehaves, doesn't he?"
"Spike 'n' Dru," Lindsey mused, trying to form a smile, "quite a combination. Would've liked to have seen that, back in the day."
"Wouldn't be around now, mister, if you had. My Spike doesn't like pretenders." She stepped toward him, and ran her finger over his eyebrow.
"I guess not. Still, Drusilla, there's something nicer to look forward to." Lindsey lifted the eyebrow she'd just touched, and tried to indulge her whimsy. Maybe he was getting her, getting it, getting why she deceived so much to tell the truth.
Drusilla favoured him with another broad smile, as if his sudden epiphany meant something to her.
"I'm going to be a mummy again. And you're the pretty peach I have to thank."
"Yes you are. Shall we?" he said, offering her his arm. She placed her fingers delicately on his and allowed him to lead her from the room, the guards following in their wake.
"Such a pretty peach," she whispered. "So ripe for the plucking."
- fin -