Sunnydale Park
It was dusk and the playground had long been deserted. In a town like Sunnydale, no one with small children allowed them out after dark, at least not the smart ones. It was that Angel found himself drawn here. He had felt the faint tug of family bonds ever since Spike had shown up. Most likely the blonde vampire had Drusilla with him. Of all his childer, those two had become inseparable from the beginning.
From the shadows of a big oak tree, Angel watched the carousel slowly turn and a few swings move in the light evening breeze. He scanned the playground for signs of either Spike or Drusilla, whichever one drew him here. In his perusal, Angel caught sight of a small boy around the age of 8 sitting on the jungle gym, waiting for something or someone.
Angel immediately didn’t like where this was going. He was sent here to protect and help Buffy not every little kid who happened to skip out on their parent's to play in the park. Where were the kid’s parents anyway? Angel leaned against the tree and silently watched over the boy until someone showed up and then he would go see how Buffy was doing on tonight’s patrol.
Scanning the area for any sign of a human that would claim the boy he caught sight of Drusilla. His beautiful, insane childe was dressed in an innocent pristine white dress that could have doubled for a nightgown for all it revealed. She was a vision with the moonlight outlining her slim shapely figure through the garment. He could make out her lush curves as she swayed toward the boy. It was a scene he had witnessed many times in the past. The hypnotic way she moved and teased her prey before striking would normally cause Angelus to harden and take her right there after the kill.
That was in the past. The cursed soul had a rein on his demon now. Well, not completely. Watching her work still caused his cock to harden. He never could seem to control that with either Drusilla or Spike. All the borrowed blood in his body seemed to drain into his dick at that moment. Angel heard Drusilla’s soft, melodic voice as she spoke and slowly swayed closer to the boy.
“Are you lost?” she purred.
The boy startled and turned to look back at the dark haired woman. He climbed out of the jungle gym and stood rigidly. “No. My mom’s just supposed to pick me up is all.”
“Do you want me to walk you home?” Drusilla asked softly.
“No thank you,” the boy declined politely.
It had been so long since Drusilla was able to hunt on her own. Ever since Prague, Spike had always brought her food. Everything she could ever dream of. He had left her earlier in the evening to hunt for her presumably. But still she had missed this cat-and-mouse game. Ensnaring a child was such a joy. They still smelled baby fresh and new at their tender age. Their flesh was sweeter to the taste and their blood was sugary sweet. They tasted pure. Her daddy loved it when she was pure. He spent days breaking her in over and over again, seeking terrible pain and offering her immense pleasure. She missed her angel. Grand-mummy told her and Spike that he had to go away, that he had turned on her, on them.
Drusilla ran her fingertips along a crossbar of the jungle gym. “My mummy used to sing me to sleep at night.” She slowly walked around the object and started to sing, “Run and catch . . . the lamb is caught in the blackberry patch . . . She had the sweetest voice.” Drusilla tilted her head and watched the boy closely. “What will your mummy sing when they find your body?”
The boy looked nervous and backed away slowly. “I’m not supposed to talk to people.”
Angel rolled his eyes and gave a low growl. Now the boy decided to listen to his mother after Drusilla had set a cunning trap. If he didn’t move to help the boy in the next few seconds, his insane girl would have him for dinner. Angel couldn’t have that death on his conscience not to mention what he would have to deal with if Buffy knew he let it happen. Seeing Drusilla move closer to the boy, Angel moved quickly.
“Oh.” Drusilla pouted. “Well, I'm not a person, see, so that's just . . .”
Angel suddenly stepped between Drusilla and the boy. He turned toward the boy. “Run home,” he said sternly.
The boy only hesitated for a moment before running off. Drusilla watched him flee in dismay. Angel took a relieved breath and turned around to face his childe. Her beauty had never failed to leave him in awe. She had classic features with satin-smooth skin and exotic dark blue eyes. Angel noticed that Spike had arranged her hair in a fashion that completed the ‘innocent’ look. It had to have been Spike because the blonde vampire refused to let a minion touch his Dark Princess. Either way Drusilla was forever a china doll. He had turned her when she was but 17 years old. She was a youthful girl on the cusp of womanhood with visions that terrified her.
Angel had yet to decide whether he had helped her or cursed her by driving her completely insane. In one respect, she was so far gone she acted the very age of the prey she hunted, forever lost in her own little world. On the other hand, he had achieved what he told Darla he would do, turn her and cause her to suffer eternal torment from the visions. That had been nearly 140 years ago. Angel doubted she felt torment or pain anymore, as far gone as she was. She quit responding to pain with terror-filled screams in the late 1800s. Then again, there was the occasional whimper.
“My Angel!” Drusilla sighed happily. It had been so long since she had seen him. But, something felt off to her. Something she couldn’t quite identify. Darla had mentioned a curse of some sort, but that wasn’t it.
“Hello, Drusilla,” Angel greeted her calmly.
Drusilla slowly approached her Sire. “Do you remember the song mummy used to sing me? Pretty.”
“I remember,” Angel said. His throat felt like it was closing up. His chest tightened as memories of past deeds flooded his conscience. There were vivid memories of stalking Drusilla.
Angel had watched from the dark shadows as she went about her everyday life. Her sweet, chaste essence had called to him. Her body was just ripening into womanhood. Her newfound desires tormented her in the night, making her think that she would burn in Hell just like her mother told her she would. He remembered hearing the hushed voices as he watched outside her bedroom window. The words of her mother damning her for the visions she had no control over.
Angel remembered meeting her face to face in the confessional of her church. True, he was dining on a vicar when she appeared in the booth. He remembered urging her to become evil, to give in to the delicious and pleasurable sins of her body. He had imagined the wanton woman inside her trying to break free. He had urged her to let it happen, but Drusilla had refused and begged to pay penance for her sins real and imagined.
After that fateful meeting, Angelus had made it his sole purpose to torment her with images of debauchery and carnal pleasures. He had killed her immediate family before zeroing in on her sisters and parents. He had caused her to flee to seek asylum in a convent only to follow her there and kill the clergy. He remembered fucking Darla on her lap. He remembered breeching her hymen just before he had drained and turned her.
Angel remembered everything he had ever done to the girl-woman standing before him. A part of him was nauseous with the thoughts of what he had done, but another part rejoiced in the triumph of breaking her to his will. He could have her eating out of his hand had he wanted her to. She was a reminder of what he used to be. She was the symbol of his greatest achievement in the art of psychological torment as well as his worst sin rolled into one.
“Yes, you do,” Drusilla growled.
Drusilla finally found the elusive thing that plagued her since Angel had turned up tonight. The Slayer. She was all around him. He was enveloped in the Slayer’s scent, practically drowning in it. It made her envious. It made her jealous. It made her angry to know that another girl that wasn’t grand-mum had taken her daddy away from her. Drusilla was no longer his Princess. Another girl was. All she had left was Spike and even he had been fixated on the Slayer ever since their arrival at the Hellmouth. They all thought she was insane. And she was! But, Miss Edith tells her everything. She knew Spike would go out, not only to hunt but to bait the Slayer. And now her daddy was practically bathing in the Slayer’s scent.
“Drusilla, leave here. I'm offering you that chance. Take Spike and get out,” Angel pleaded. He had lost his family once because Darla had banished him. As much as he was starting to love Buffy, he refused to lose them again to the blonde Slayer and her friends. He would not allow that to happen.
“Or you'll hurt me?” Drusilla asked in a purr.
Angel’s eyes shifted to the ground. It was true he had taken great pleasure in hurting Drusilla in the past. That was before he had a soul, though. He spent a century trying to come to terms with or forget what he was. He wasn’t anything anymore. He wasn’t a man and he wasn’t a vampire. He was a corpse with a demon and a soul inside. He had a lot to regret over the years, but Drusilla was the worst offense he had ever committed. He had tormented her so much when she was human and even more as a demon that she could no longer take care of herself. It’s why he had chosen Spike.
Spike was his greatest accomplishment. Angel had let Drusilla choose her knight. When he saw her choice, he was infatuated with the boy and tested him out. Seeing his girl standing in front of him now, he was relieved to know that Angelus hadn’t broken Spike. There were many facets to his boy, a few being that he had the strength of the demon, the bloodlust of the vampire, and the humanity still left in him to take care of Drusilla.
Drusilla slowly shook her head as she stepped closer. “No. No, you can't. Not anymore.”
Angel squeezed his eyes shut to block out the images in his mind. He felt her come into his personal space. She was enticing him with her body even as she was denying him with her words.
“If you don't leave it'll go badly . . . for all of us,” Angel told her.
“My dear boy's gone all away, hasn't he? To her,” Drusilla smirked.
“Who?” Angel asked a little confused. One could never really know what Drusilla spoke of when she told of a vision.
“The girl. The Slayer,” Drusilla said, a jealous fire lighting her eyes. She placed a tentative hand on Angel’s chest over his silent heart. “Your heart stinks of her. Poor little thing . . . she has no idea what’s in store for her.”
Angel breathed her scent in and licked his lips. Drusilla was too close, her scent was intoxicating. It was overwhelming when it was intermingled with Spike’s scent as it was now. The combination brought to mind, childe, lover, and family. Things he had been without for so long that now his fangs were itching to drop down. He struggled to gain control of his baser instincts.
“This can't go on, Drusilla. It's gotta end,” Angel told her with a hint of pleading . . . for his sanity.
Drusilla tilted her head and reached up for a kiss. When her lips were a breath away from Angel’s she spoke seductively, “Oh, no, my pet.” She tilted her head the opposite way, baring her throat to reveal his Siring mark. “This is just the beginning.”
Angel licked his lips again. Drusilla may have been crazy, but she knew what she was doing by playing this game. She was calling to her Sire. He could smell her arousal. He could hear it in her blood. He could feel it in his veins. He could already taste her in his mouth. She was so close to him that he could slip out his tongue and trace over her lips.
Just as Angel was about to follow through and give in to the demon, Drusilla pulled away and gave him an evil smile. She continued to watch him as she slowly walked away and disappeared into the darkness. As Angel watched Drusilla leave he willed his body to cool down. He forgot his girl could be such a cock-tease when she set her fragile mind to it. After a moment, he turned and left the playground. Drusilla and Spike, not to mention the tortures of being around Buffy . . . he was going to be in Hell.
