Not Even A Little Bit

by Kelsey

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. Contact Joss Whedon for ownership papers. LOL

Author’s Note: I don’t know if I like how this turned out, so feedback is welcome! I need to know how I did!

Summary: In the 5th season Buffy/Angel crossover, right before she created Spike, Drusilla mentioned that Angelus wouldn’t hurt her, ‘Not even a little bit’. This is a possible reason why.

Rating: R

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Angelus’s teeth are upon Drusilla as she lies on the bed, quite naked. They, the teeth, are sharp, and curiously warm, slightly hooked, and very eager to be in her flesh. The moon tells her.

She laughs lightly, and arcs her back so that her flesh is within easy reach of Angelus’s teeth. He gives her a happy smile, and then turns away. Drusilla closes her eyes, waiting for the awful, penetrating feeling of Angelus’s teeth within her flesh.

He treats her like this, ever since the day she was created. It isn’t assault or harassment, for she doesn’t complain, or even show anything other than adoration for the vampiric foreplay that makes her shiver so.

But something is wrong with it. Something is not good, something is just a little off tonight, and she shrieks, pushing him away from her. “No! No, Daddy, the moon says not!”

It isn’t true, but she speaks of the moon so much anyway, that he won’t know the difference. Angelus backs off a little, and kisses the bleeding wound in her stomach, making her muscles clench with the tenderness. “What does the moon say, baby?” He asks gently, used to her little fits.

She is frantic now, pushing him away from her, and his vampiric face shifts back and forth, back and forth, making her dizzy. He looks confused. “It said... it said don’t hurt me... Don’t hurt me, Daddy!” She screams, writhing upon the bed.

Angelus backs off more, sitting up on the bed, and wrapping his arms around her, softly, like a human. Strangely, it feels good. She relaxes in his grip now, and he begins to kiss her again, thinking this is just another one of her temper tantrums. No one would blame him. She does get awfully angry sometimes, over things that don’t mean very much.

Drusilla immediately curls her body into a fetal position, arms wrapped around her knees, and rocks, wailing in a clear, keening tone. “Noooooooooooo!” She whales upon him, landing blow after blow, clumsily, but hard and strong, scraping his skin with her long, perfectly manicured nails. Blood runs down his naked chest before he does anything about it.

Angelus is fed up now, and with a strong slap to her naked back that she barely notices, he leaves the room, looking for someone else who will help him diffuse his lingering sexual tension, just leaving Dru to take care of herself.

Which she does, admirably well. Once he leaves, she calms almost immediately, and quietly dresses herself, humming a tune that no one has heard of yet, and won’t for decades. She has seen it in one of the visions the moon brings upon her.

She pulls on her favorite dress, totally elegant, yet ahead of the current style. It is similar, but shorter, and far tighter, made mostly in her favorite colors, red and white. Funny that a creature of such pure, demented evil should choose the color of purity as her favorite.

The color of blood is easier to understand.

Angelus never bites her again, preferring to allow his vampiric instincts to take over with Darla, who enjoys it immensely. Drusilla, he treats as though a small child, making love to her softly and gently, and wholly un-vampirically. Drusilla never complains, writhing under his skillful ministrations just as hard, whether is face is that of an angel or a devil’s child that she sees.

One day, she complains. Daddy will never hurt her, she says. Darla simply replies that all she has to do is ask, but she knows that Angelus isn’t so sure. She was more upset than he’d ever seen her that night, and though he professes to have few feelings for anyone except himself, one could easily see that he considered Dru something between a daughter and a girlfriend.

That night, she made Spike, and Angelus rarely shared a bed with her from that night on, preferring the solemn company of his own sire, who seemed to know him inside out, fully aware of what would make him happy or sad at any instant of the day, at any time in the world. It began to be two couples, instead of four friends, that ran together now.

Time would eventually split them up, and eventually, Angelus would get his soul back, allowing for no more family reunions until all eventually appeared in Sunnydale. Angelus heard little more about Dru, but he had no doubt that something profound had affected her that day.

For what else could make an evil, demonic vampiress stop enjoying bloodplay?

end