Prompt: Grovel

[garnigal.livejournal.com]

Title: Turn
Fandom: BtVS
Prompt: Grovel
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Word Count: 571
Disclaimer: Borrowing someone else’s toys. I promise not to break them.
Summary: Only minions grovel.
*****

He had to admit, he did enjoy this part.

The minions groveled at his feet, abasing themselves and begging for his mercy. They mewled in pain when he kicked them, and asked for more, willing to do anything he wanted.

When they first found themselves alone, just the two of them, he thought it was the perfect life. No Darla, capricious since Angelus abandoned them, who pouted and demanded and ruled them both at her whim. Angelus was long gone, with his power over both women and his constant need to destroy. It would have been fine to live together forever, just him and his sinister queen, with nothing to do but kill, cause havoc and make Drusilla happy.

But Drusilla kept bringing home weak-minded fools that she’d found in the ballrooms and barrooms. She’d turned their heads, not that he could blame them, and follow her anywhere. They weren’t much use, but he’d never scold her for wanting her toys. He usually got rid of them after a week or so; she never seemed to mind.

And then there was Prague.

She was so weak and fragile after that, though she still wandered and brought home the brainless idiots she’d turned. The difference was the he made use of them now. They could fetch and carry while he cared for his shattered siren, amuse and entertain while he rained his rage on whoever was nearby. He still got rid of them eventually, destroying them in his irritation and impatience, but they lasted months now. And Drusilla always found another pathetic fool to bring home.

He was just glad he was always so strong. He’d been beaten down, but he never groveled. He never would.

*****

He hated that they’d come to this.

He groveled at her feet, abasing himself and begging for her to stay. She ignored him, dancing around to music the stars played for her and drawing the eyes of passersby. He growled and flashed gold, scaring them off despite his humiliating posture.

While he healed her, he’d broken. He’d spent a century taking care of her, charming and indulging her when she was damaged. She’d carried him home and put him in a push chair. Turned a couple of minions to bring him dinner and then more or less ignored him.

Then Angelus had returned and she’d totally ignored him. Decades attuned to her every little mood change, and she hadn’t even noticed he could walk again. Sure, he was hiding it, but she should have been paying attention.

So he made his deal, saved the world and stole his girl off to the ends of the earth. He thought she’d forget all about Angelus’s grand plans and be his love again, but she woke up coldly furious and vindictive. He’d tried to win her over, but the old tricks to calm her moods didn’t work. He’d been suffering her ire alone and silent, but he couldn’t suffer her faithlessness.

So he turned to a new method – attack. She’d attacked right back and here he lay, face down in the dirt, begging her to take him back, while she trampled all over him.

Turned out that crawling was an excellent position for gaining insight. He rose without another word and stalked off into the night. He was no minion that would keep groveling to her. He’d win her back.

And the next one groveling would be the Slayer.