emptynight | We're still fighting it, we're still fighting it

Current Location: Dru's Room - Daytime

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We're still fighting it, we're still fighting it

Dawn was approaching when Thomas pulled back into the garage. Tired but full of warm contentment, he headed upstairs with every intention of falling asleep in his own bed, but as he passed Dru's door, he stopped. Something felt wrong, felt cold, and Thomas frowned, slipping quietly into the room. Finding her in a fitful, uneasy sleep, he stripped out of everything except boxers and slipped between the sheets next to her. She smelled of starlight and night air, with skin like ice. Not wanting to wake her, Thomas wrapped an arm around Dru, letting a trick of power bubble over his palm, radiating calm affection. Hoping it would be enough for now, he fell asleep.

((Tag Dru))

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Words lied, but emotions never did. Thomas could feel it, knew what Dru felt despite her attempt to hide it. There was silent thanks on his lips as he kissed her temple, feeling the cold bite of electricity that her touch left on his skin. "I know, Dru, and I shouldn't have lost control like that. I'm sorry," he said quietly, fingers combing through her snarled hair. "We always hurt the--" He shook his head.

"Never mind. But..." He trailed off, staring at Dru, as his fingers continued their paths through her hair. "Without them you would not be Drusilla." His lips touched Dru's throat almost reverently. "You'd be delicious still, but not Drusilla. Not beautiful Dru trailing starlight and roses, who sees plate armour and swords where there is only brokenness and Hunger."

Her eyes closed. Not because she didn't want to see Thomas, but because all of his touches brought some new feeling to her. Some new taste of emotion she didn't have, but now had.

The way she kissed him was often as if she drowned. Because in a way she did. Being close to Thomas meant being closer to a side she would never have admitted to missing. To wanting. To touch him was to drown in it. To remember what it was to feel something other than her own deep mad desire to wreak havoc. A desire that was not completely her own.

Resting her forehead against his she caught herself. There it was again. A torrent of emotions that forced her to feel everything. Even feelings that weren't hers.

"Thomas, you make me good. All your whispers and kisses are nothing compared to what you pull from me." The kiss at her throat made her wish Thomas had fangs. He could bite in other ways. Her lip trembled. She knew what to say. There were other words she could say.

Opening her eyes, Drusilla looked at Thomas with sincerity. "You make me good. You strip me down and make me good."

It was hard to respond, to even look at Dru when her eyes shone with such sincerity. This wasn't the time to disagree, to protest that he couldn't possibly inspire good when everything inside him wanted to consume, to take and drown it all in pleasure and fire. He kissed her again, throat to jaw to cheek to forehead to lips. Every kiss a word he couldn't ever say.

"If I make you that way, I hope it makes you happy," was all he could manage, "to be good."

Blood and pain had been Drusilla's calling card for so long, and she loved it. It was apart of her as much as her voice. There wasn't much room in her world for a vampire who was kind. Those vampires became minions. And then they became dust.

Everyone knew that Spike had killed Slayers, and Angel had laid waste to countries. But Drusilla was the nightmare vampires dreamed in the day. She was utterly evil.

It was ingrained into her heart. The easy desire to bring ruin. Her hips shifted, rocking forward. She wanted to trace poetry across his chest. She always did. She wanted to unleash every one of his darkest thoughts and drown the world in blood and disaster.

But she also wanted to send warmth and gentle happiness to those who had nothing. She had had nothing for so long. No one should feel less than for the evil that lurked in every heart. There could be balance.

Thomas' kisses didn't feed a Goddess. His kisses fed Drusilla. She knew what they said. What they meant. No amount of things bought by his credit card compared to the the feeling of being accepted. He didn't need to say anything. She would never require him to say the words. Through Thomas she could be sweetness and light.

But more than that, with Thomas she remembered what it was like to be that way. Not just cheerful. Thomas made her benevolent.

His words had been so long ago she realized. She should say something. Explain. "Do you know what they whisper about me Thomas? Demons quake when I entire the room. Before Wolfram and Hart ever touched me. They fear me, more than they ever feared any ancient dragon. Just one mad woman with the potential to warp minds."

Gratitude took over the guilt. For now. For now she was ready to give him anything he asked. Anything he wanted in return. Drusilla kissed him lightly at first, and deepened it when she could not stop herself. She could taste it on his lips. Drusilla truly believed that if he wanted, Thomas could rule the world with his kiss.

When she pulled away, panting with a curious mix of joy and desire, she smiled. "It does. What you do to me. What you help me do. It makes me more happy than any pressie you will ever buy me." Drusilla pressed her body along his and whispered softy in his ear, "But do not tell anyone that I am light beneath all my darkness."

Being kissed by Dru always felt like swimming in dangerous waters, never knowing when the whispering siren call of madness would sweep him away even as he wrapped himself in it. When she pulled away, Thomas was breathing heavily, his hands running over Dru's body even as she pressed against him. It wasn't desire for feeding that spurred him, but simply the desire for closeness.

"It will be our little secret," he assured her, kissing her again, lips, jaw, throat. His lips lingered at her neck, tasting soft skin, catching vulnerable flesh between teeth and tongue. "But Dru, they are fools if they can't see your light."

There was no need to say that he was relieved that she could be happy with what change his presence wrought in her. She was changing too much, too fast, but if this one change could make her happy, perhaps it would be enough. Still, he changed the subject, wanting nothing more than to back away lest either of them said something else that couldn't be taken back.

"Shall I tell you of our adventures last night?" he asked instead. "How Edward and I found a present in a frat house and made it sing?" Hell, he'd tell her about the fae if she asked. Just anything less uncomfortable than what had already been said.

Words. Thomas was always running from words. It was in her nature to chase him, make him see what was behind the pretty phrase. Accept the tones and syllables of them. Except for today. Today Drusilla trembled against him, a laugh on her lips.

They needed a rest from her ability to show them the power of words. Her emotions were still a torrent, but she pushed through them to rest against his chest with half closed eyes. "Edward had been looking for a present all night. Were they pretty?" If he liked she would tell him about her night. It had been more than beautiful until she mentioned-

Drusilla sat up again, her palms pressed into the pillow on either side of Thomas' head. "Thomas," she said, her voice lilting in the way it often did when she knew she was about to say something that made near to no sense to herself, "I think Lacrimosa and I own a bar."

"They were very pre--" Thomas had started to answer when Dru pulled away. She spoke again, her voice lilting, the words singing some unknown melody that made no sense to anyone but Dru herself.

This time, the words didn't sound mad, which was a plus. They just didn't seem to make normal sense. "You and Lacci own a bar?" he echoed, perplexed. "Is it a nice bar, at least?"

"I don't know if it's a nice bar. I don't even know where it is." Thought she was sure she could remember if she asked the right parts of her mind. Not that she was going to do anything of the sort.

She frowned and tried to work through the process. which often meant feeling everything all over again. "We stole a car which had a Greg inside. Then we slaughtered all the big bad vampire daddies. Lacrimosa was beautiful, all knives and soft breaking limbs. And of course we had to bathe in the blood and dust of our enemies and kiss like starved demonesses with slick hot bodies but-" Drusilla pouted, "I think we own the bar now. The bar with all of our new pet bunnies. We have pet bunnies now Thomas. I am unsure of their care and feeding."

The thought crossed Thomas' mind that maybe he had gone insane, that those twisting sirens songs had in fact dragged him out to sea while he hadn't been looking. He blinked hard, shaking away the enticing mental image Dru's words had called forth. "The bunnies will be able to feed and take care of themselves," Thomas answered, going along with it. "After all, Spoike's doing well on his own, isn't he?"

Thomas' eyes were drawn to said hamster's cage, which was steadily becoming more of a hamster palace with carved wood ornaments hanging from the corners. "It sounds like a fun night, lovely," he said, shifting so that he sat up as well. One hand began combing through her hair again, while the other danced up the bare skin of her arm. "All Edward and I did was hunt. And almost get eaten by a faerie cat."

"Of course Spoike is happy. I feed him all the time..." Drusilla looked over to the cage with Thomas. Spoike was currently snuggled under a quilt that looked suspiciously like it was made of leaves. Well, he did always have an easy time making friends.

Drusilla was perfectly ready to explain how she was slightly worried about the humans left satisfied in a heap, but he had gently turned her mind to other places. Her face went from slightly pleased to worried in little time. "You didn't bring your knife did you? If you did I would be wearing a new fur collar."

Her words were met with a laugh, warm and affectionate. "I think I will be carrying your knife all the time now," he said, hands idly parting her hair into two pigtails. "Did you know you'd be protecting me from kittens with big green eyes that smell like snow and peppermint when you gave it to me?"

The question had not been sarcastic or condescending, just curious, and Thomas' hand stilled for a moment as he cast about for the elastic that had been in Dru's hair only a little while ago.

Thomas was a rather comfortable seat. It was the only reason she wasn't telling him off. Or shaking off the pigtails. Her large eyes did not help the image, and her tone was quiet. "No. Not big kitties. But I smelled them on you, Thomas. When you came home and said nothing. I saw things. Little snippets. I worry. I always worry."

Drusilla plucked the elastics from the pillow and held them out to him. "Snow? It smelled of coldness then? I must sew washers in your jackest and put nails in your boots. They are all nasty nasty things...the cold ones."

((Desquish like a fox))

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We're still fighting it, we're still fighting it

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