TITLE: Interstitial Ficlets
AUTHOR: Katriena Knights
RATING: PG13--Sexual Content.
SUMMARY: Bits to go in and around, after, before or during episodes.
NOTES: This is a WIP. I don't normally post WIPs, but I didn't really
see any other way to do this one, since it'll be going on for a while.
SPOILERS: Mild for "What's My Line."
MORE FIC AND ART AT: http://www.bewellweb.com/dknights/fanfic.html
ARCHIVE: Ask it nicely and it'll follow you anywhere.
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, just playing.
 
NOTE: Had a terrible time getting this one underway until I figured out what
was wrong.  Angel did not want to participate in this one.  Drusilla wanted
to tell it.  So here she is--Dru.
 
 
 
He looked like Daddy, sounded like him, felt like him when she pressed her
body against him, but he wasn't her Daddy and hadn't been for a long time.
It was the smell that gave him away, and that sickened her, made her hate
him, but she had always hated him, hated the way he looked at her, the way
he touched her, hated when he pinned her to the bed and pushed himself
inside her, made her body respond even to pain, because he understood what
she desired more than she did. Hated that he would not do that now, because
he had a soul, and he reeked of it.
 
She could have told him things, too, told him that this love, this perverse
desire for this girl, this Slayer, would be the death of him.
 
Spike had him now, sliding his pale hands over the smooth planes of Angel's
body, watching him squirm, and Drusilla saw the waves and smoke-like pale
tendrils of Angel's future wafting all about him, wrapping him up, and she
saw her Daddy in the smoke, and smiled because she missed him, missed his
brutal hands and his wicked smile and the way his mouth always tasted of
fresh blood.
 
"Can't kill us now, can you?" Spike's tone mocked his grandsire, as Angel
lolled there, still sun-weakened and broken, but there was hatred in his
eyes and for a moment Dru was certain again that she saw Daddy, and wondered
where he was and when he might be coming back, because she knew he was
coming back, she could see him there and something would bring him to her,
something horrible, hideous, wrenching, something her Daddy should never,
ever do...
 
"You hurt me," she said suddenly, and Spike turned toward her, looking at
her with gentle blue eyes. He had always been gentle, except when she hadn't
wanted him to be, and he had tried so hard to understand her, but no one
could understand, and now she looked at her Daddy, who was not her Daddy,
and saw his body hunched over the delicate, broken form of her sister, the
blood running down her neck and between her breasts, and Daddy's hands on
her in places they shouldn't be, and she was dead dead everywhere all dead
and all her blood running out...
 
She slapped him, hard, watched his head snap back as her hand made contact.
"I want to hurt you," she said, and looked at Spike.  He smiled and nodded,
and she smiled, too, and bent to her Daddy and kissed him on his mouth.