Prompt #169 - Playground - Entree (1/1) - BtVS - spikesdeb

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Title: Entree
Fandom: BtVS
Prompt: #169 - Playground
Author: spikesdeb
Rating: PG
Summary: Set during S2, around Halloween-ish (loosely). Drusilla's wandering the streets of Sunnydale having had a falling-out with Spike, when she comes across a playground. And where there's a playground, there's usually some young blood...
Author's Note: Thanks to seductivembrace for the look-over in lightning fast time, as always.
Word Count: 658



ENTREE

It was dark and cool, a mist swirling the hem of her dress as she kicked at the golden leaves that crunched beneath her feet. The taffeta of her skirt swished and for a while Drusilla was happy with the music playing inside her head and accompanying her every move as she circled the playground. But she grew bored and Miss Edith was testy and besides, there was a lovely aroma of pre-pubescent child wafting amongst the ripe scents of autumn. No, fall. She was in the colonies now, she really must try to blend in. Spike was always telling her to...

Spike.

She'd forgotten how angry she was with him. He'd been a bad, rude man. That was why she was out on her own in Sunnydale. They'd quarrelled and he'd turned away from her, and she couldn't bear to see the disappointment and hurt in his eyes. Spike had such expressive eyes, almost soulful, ironically. Drusilla could feel him slipping away from her and she knew there was nothing she could do about it. She'd seen the future and it was filled with pain and anguish – and sunshine. She hadn't figured that bit out yet, but she would.

Miss Edith demanded her attention and she was growing tired, so Drusilla sank to the grass and spread her skirts for an impromptu tea-party. Maybe the fairies would join them and they would have such fun! America was a little less strict on etiquette so no formal invitations would be needed, and sometimes that was better, she was finding.

After tea and cake, she rose and tucked Miss Edith under her arm, adjusting her blindfold so that Miss Edith could see out of one eye as she had been good and left nothing on her plate. As Drusilla walked she swayed and hummed, until a particularly persistent imp demanded her attention and she had to stop to debate the merits of A-positive against O-negative as an apperitif. A-positive was decided upon as the choice for all the good parties, and the thought of such ruby delight had her tummy rumbling.

Luckily, it appeared that dinner was taken care of. Over in the far corner of the playground was a sandpit and the sound of muffled sobs carried on the still night air. Drusilla moved towards the sound, picking up her skirts and whispering to Miss Edith to be quiet. A plump, luscious entree was huddled in the sand, hugging its legs and burying its head against its knees. A girl child! Drusilla was delighted; boy children could be such a problem.

The girl lifted her head as she heard Drusilla approach. Her face was dirty and tear-stained and she sniffled as the lady knelt down beside her in the sand, not caring of her lovely dress.

“Hello, little one – what're you cryin' for? Have you lost your mummy? Do you like chocolate and cake? This is Miss Edith, but she's only allowed one eye because she's been naughty. What's your name?”

The child liked the lady. She was nice and kind and had a lovely dolly that she ached to cuddle. When she'd fled the argument at her house, she'd left her favourite doll, Megan, behind, and her arms craved the comfort of her plastic body. She wiped her nose with her sleeve and replied, “Rebecca.”

Drusilla smiled. “That's a nice name...Rebecca...makes my head fizzle.” As she spoke, Drusilla closed her eyes and rocked, tasting the name on her tongue and deciding that she liked it. “Do you wanna come home with me and Miss Edith, Rebecca? There'll be tea and toast and jam and cake and games.” Drusilla rose and held out her hand to the child, smiling softly as Rebecca stood and brushed off the sand. Her cold hand closed over the plump, warm fingers of the girl, gripping hard as she led her away into the night.

658 words