By Kimi
Sequel to Shepherd
Spoilers: The Voicesverse/Shepherd Stories universe picks up from "Grave" and moves on accordingly through an AU Season 7. This is my Season 8 AU.
Summary: Spike returns to Buffy and Sunnydale, with the first team of Initiative-made vampires in response to a brutal serial killer's trail of blood and death. But the killer is literally more inhuman than the usual run of killers and is bent on satisfying a vendetta against our boy and the slayer.
Luckily, the pixies began whispering at Chicago Vulcon. If you're uncertain about the pick up point on this fic, previous parts are available at the Sandlot, including the short and sweet (?) Chapter Nine: http://www.the-sandlot.com/fic.php?mode=fic&fic_id=346&ch_seq=1
Feedback: You beta, you beta, you bet! kimi615@hotmail.com
Disclaimers: All Joss, all ME, all the time...
Author's Notes: Oh, my... you gotta love her!
*
She left the truck and its dead driver on the side of the highway and retreated into the wooded area on the side of the road. Drusilla knew that the stars would soon retire from the sky, and if she couldn't have their company, she should retire, too. The heavens were tatted with pink lace.
Never had been one for being alone. Didn't like it, couldn't abide it. Not even her dolls for company. Once again, her eyes flecked gold at the thought of having been left behind.
She'd had a large family when she was a child. And then, when she'd grown, she'd had another family. When that had fallen apart, when Daddy had left them, she had filled in the blanks as best she could. There was a gaping hole where her families used to be. A gaping maw that threatened to swallow her whole. But, still, she managed to dance on the edge of the abyss, sometimes stumbling but never falling. She'd known it was only a matter of time until she found what she was looking for.
Then, she and her new knight had wafted away like vapour on the breeze. Away from the golden one, and the 'had-been'. The stars had tried to warn her, but she'd shaken her head and told them to be silent. The pixies in her head had sighed in sadness, but she'd placed her hands over her ears and hummed a waltz. What had been done was done, and it was all one until the stars fell from the sky. She'd had the voices all her life. Those she could ignore until they were all screaming at once, with one searing voice.
The hunger wasn't as simple to ignore. She needed family... and Gabriel was proving to be a disappointment, she thought in a moment of lucidity. He didn't care for his Mummy the way a good boy should.
Drusilla glanced up. There was a house within sight. Her eyes narrowed as she considered it. Perhaps she could find something to eat there - and a warm, soft bed. A warm, sticky bed, she corrected herself. Warm and sticky like a taffy wrapper left in the sun. And tasty.
Drusilla hoped there was a family there. And children. Girl children with pretty dolls.
She giggled and clapped her hands at the remainder of her thought.
Or perhaps the girl children would *be* pretty dolls.
Little boys were like puppy dog tails. Fine for play, yes.
But not for eating.