Fic - Ordinary World, Mad World
Title: Ordinary World, Mad World
Author: Lyra Jane
Summary: In the wishverse, Drusilla goes on a hunt for Xander. Set in that world's
equivalent of S1 Buffy.
A/N: Written for
willa_writes for the maybedarkpink's Dru ficathon.
Rating: NC-17
The world is wrong.
Drusilla doesn't know why, or how, but it has shifted, broken like a teacup fallen off a high table onto a bare floor. The wrongness of it all gives her a headache.
She concentrates on it, asks Miss Edith and all the stars. The solution is as clear as any vision: she must go across the ocean, to California, to find her place in this new world and the boy who will help her make her own place in it.
To her sorrow, she saw Spike did not belong there, for there would be a new consort for her. So she slipped out at night with a Chaos demon who had offered to provide her safe passage.
During the long journey to America, Drusilla thought about the boy, tried to make her way into his heart and mind so he would love her as she already loved him.
******
For Xander, it started with dreams.
She was there every night for weeks, singing, dancing, laughing for him. A slim woman,
huge eyes and dark hair, more compelling than the blank-eyed women in the Playboys he
stole from his dad and kept under his bed could ever hope to be.
He woke up achingly hard, rubbed himself almost raw in the shower. Doodled her face
in every notebook he owned, hesitating over her huge eyes, her old-fashioned dresses.
At school, Jesse appraised him over lunch trays redolent of bologna and peanut butter
cookies.
"You look wiped, man," he said. "What's up?"
Xander shook his head. "Dreams. Of the not-so-good variety." He lowered his voice.
"Can I tell you something weird?"
Jesse shrugged. "Can't be any stranger than you asking Harmony Kendall out in seventh
grade. Or that she said yes."
"She only said yes because she thought I would get Willow to do her history homework
for her," Xander said. "Anyhow…" He lowered his voice. "So I keep having dreams
about this girl. I've never seen her before in my life, but it feels like she knows me, Jess.
Knows my insides."
"That's freaky," Jesse said, chewing on his sandwich. "You mean she's, like, dissecting
you? "Cause, that might be biology class hangover."
Xander swatted a notebook at Jesse. "Shut up. Nah, it's like … like she's the only one for
me, and she needs me to find her."
"Romantic," Jesse said, and Xander saw that he'd written the whole thing off as another
weird Xander idea. "You want to go to the Bronze tonight and look for your mystery
chick? Maybe we'd find someone better."
"He has no idea," Xander thought, watching Jesse staring at Cordelia Chase's ass. Out
loud, he said, "Why not?"
*******
The club was loud and dimly lit, full of the stink of lust and envy.
A perfect place to find her new baby boy, Drusilla saw. But it was also a delightful place
to spend time until he showed up. She perched on a stool at the bar, swaying absently to
the music until he walked in, a tiger cub in a green flannel shirt and jeans.
Across the dance floor, Xander spotted Drusilla, shoved his jacket into Jesse's hand. "It's
her," he muttered. Jesse called after him, but he didn't look back.
A broad smile spread across Drusilla's face as she appraised him. "My beautiful one ... I
waited so long for you," she said. "There is so much to do."
"Where ... where do we start?" Xander asked.
Drusilla tilted her head to one side. Without a word, she took his hand and lead him on to
the dance floor. A Duran Duran song played, and she writhed against him as Simon
LeBon wailed about making his way back to an ordinary world.
"Pretty, pretty one," she muttered into his shoulder. "Such a world to show you. You are
the center, you know."
He was puzzled. "I'm not the center of anything. I'm Xander."
She laughed. "We must go outside now," she said. Xander nodded, dumb.
And out there in the alley, she kissed him – cool lips against his hot ones, holding his face
in both hands. Her lips moved to the side of his face, and then to his neck. The suction
was pleasant at first; "My first hickey," Xander thought.
She pulled back for a second; if Xander's eyes had been open, he would have seen her
face shift. They were closed, and so the sharp pain of fangs piercing flesh was his first
sign all was not well.
She giggled and held him more tightly as he flailed, trying to escape. When she released
him, it was only to prick her breast with a sharp, scarlet fingernail.
"Drink of me," she said, and he did.
*****
The next evening, Xander freed himself from the makeshift grave Drusilla had dug in the
cellar of an abandoned house not far from the Bronze. At first, he felt nothing but a
desperate need to make it to the surface. When he opened his eyes and brushed the dirt
out of his mouth, he realized that he was …. different. Stronger. Better.
Also hungry.
"What happened to me?" he asked Drusilla. "What did you do?"
She shook her head at him. "No questions until mummy's new boy has had something to
eat. I brought you a baby."
At first, he looked at the wriggling infant she presented him with revulsion. "I can't ... I
don't eat..."
She was all business. "Let me show you how," she said, and her face shifted into that of a
monster. Xander yelped, almost dropping the baby. Drusilla took it from his arms,
cooing. "You mustn't frighten the poor little lamb," she said, and sank her teeth into the
baby's throat. When she lifted her mouth, it was dripping in blood. "Now you, she said,
but Xander was already shifting into game face and leaning forward to taste the newborn.
He drank from the child – a girl, he saw – until there was no more, then let her body fall
to the floor.
Drusilla looked at him, curious, then raised a hand to caress his face. "That was good,
wasn't it?" He nodded. "Now you shall live on blood, and you shall never die, and we
shall have many games together."
"So I'm a vampire," Xander said. "You turned me." Smiling as he felt the newborn's
blood give him strength, he added "Thank you."
"Now come outside, I want to show you something." They walked out into the dark back
yard, and Drusilla gestured to the surrounding streets: The house sat on a slight hill, so
they were looking down on them. "Look at the world, all those lights," she said. "We
shall snuff them one by one." She clutched his arm, hissed at his ear. "But first, I think
my baby boy doesn't need mama and papa any more."
Xander smiled, nodded. Yes. He would repay his parents for their casual neglect, their
stink of alcohol, their screams at him and each other.
They would make it up to him in blood.
At his parents' house, his mother answered the door. "Where the hell were you,
Alexander?," she demanded, "And who's your little tramp?"
They were to be her last words, as Drusilla pounced upon her. Hearing the noise,
Xander's father came out of the bathroom with his pants unzipped, carrying the sports
section. "Jessica, what the heck-" and that was it for him, blood rich in Xander's mouth.
When he was done, he smacked his lips with satisfaction, smeared their blood onto the
walls.
Delighted, Drusilla took him by the hand and lead him into the bedroom. "You should
have a reward," she said, unbuttoning his shirt and kissing her way down his stomach.
She undid his pants, pulled out his rock-hard cock.
He groaned as she grazed him with her fingertips and the very tip of her tongue. A
moment and an eon later, she wriggled out of her dress and laid on top of him. "You like
this, don't you, pretty Xander?" she asked.
He could barely nod as she pulled him inside her inch by inch, warm and pulsing, rubbing
forward and back, smiling in her concentration.
It was too much. Xander exploded. Drusilla, still smiling, reached a finger down to touch
her cleft. "Get mommy off," she ordered him in a whimper, and he began to rub her as
she sat astride him, their bodies still connected, spiraling up to the stars.
Hours later, they pulled their clothes on. Xander stopped by his room, surveyed the
clothes and shoes and comic books with contempt. "This is a child's room," he thought.
Drusilla, saying nothing, took him by the hand and lead him onto the front porch.
"We have all the world," Drusilla said. "What shall we do next, my Xander?"
He looked around, noticed the bright sheen of the oil on the alley's pavement, the
mingling scent of blood and garbage and dirty oil. He pictured Willow bending over her
algebra homework and worrying about why he had missed his 8:45 phone call. He
imagined the sweet taste of her virgin's blood, the music of her screams.
And then he imagined taking her into this secret, better, brighter, truer world.
"I know just who we need to get first," he said, and his new face smiled.
Drusilla linked her arm through his. "Lead me to her," she said.
~finis~
Master list is here.
Author: Lyra Jane
Summary: In the wishverse, Drusilla goes on a hunt for Xander. Set in that world's
equivalent of S1 Buffy.
A/N: Written for
willa_writes for the maybedarkpink's Dru ficathon. Rating: NC-17
The world is wrong.
Drusilla doesn't know why, or how, but it has shifted, broken like a teacup fallen off a high table onto a bare floor. The wrongness of it all gives her a headache.
She concentrates on it, asks Miss Edith and all the stars. The solution is as clear as any vision: she must go across the ocean, to California, to find her place in this new world and the boy who will help her make her own place in it.
To her sorrow, she saw Spike did not belong there, for there would be a new consort for her. So she slipped out at night with a Chaos demon who had offered to provide her safe passage.
During the long journey to America, Drusilla thought about the boy, tried to make her way into his heart and mind so he would love her as she already loved him.
******
For Xander, it started with dreams.
She was there every night for weeks, singing, dancing, laughing for him. A slim woman,
huge eyes and dark hair, more compelling than the blank-eyed women in the Playboys he
stole from his dad and kept under his bed could ever hope to be.
He woke up achingly hard, rubbed himself almost raw in the shower. Doodled her face
in every notebook he owned, hesitating over her huge eyes, her old-fashioned dresses.
At school, Jesse appraised him over lunch trays redolent of bologna and peanut butter
cookies.
"You look wiped, man," he said. "What's up?"
Xander shook his head. "Dreams. Of the not-so-good variety." He lowered his voice.
"Can I tell you something weird?"
Jesse shrugged. "Can't be any stranger than you asking Harmony Kendall out in seventh
grade. Or that she said yes."
"She only said yes because she thought I would get Willow to do her history homework
for her," Xander said. "Anyhow…" He lowered his voice. "So I keep having dreams
about this girl. I've never seen her before in my life, but it feels like she knows me, Jess.
Knows my insides."
"That's freaky," Jesse said, chewing on his sandwich. "You mean she's, like, dissecting
you? "Cause, that might be biology class hangover."
Xander swatted a notebook at Jesse. "Shut up. Nah, it's like … like she's the only one for
me, and she needs me to find her."
"Romantic," Jesse said, and Xander saw that he'd written the whole thing off as another
weird Xander idea. "You want to go to the Bronze tonight and look for your mystery
chick? Maybe we'd find someone better."
"He has no idea," Xander thought, watching Jesse staring at Cordelia Chase's ass. Out
loud, he said, "Why not?"
*******
The club was loud and dimly lit, full of the stink of lust and envy.
A perfect place to find her new baby boy, Drusilla saw. But it was also a delightful place
to spend time until he showed up. She perched on a stool at the bar, swaying absently to
the music until he walked in, a tiger cub in a green flannel shirt and jeans.
Across the dance floor, Xander spotted Drusilla, shoved his jacket into Jesse's hand. "It's
her," he muttered. Jesse called after him, but he didn't look back.
A broad smile spread across Drusilla's face as she appraised him. "My beautiful one ... I
waited so long for you," she said. "There is so much to do."
"Where ... where do we start?" Xander asked.
Drusilla tilted her head to one side. Without a word, she took his hand and lead him on to
the dance floor. A Duran Duran song played, and she writhed against him as Simon
LeBon wailed about making his way back to an ordinary world.
"Pretty, pretty one," she muttered into his shoulder. "Such a world to show you. You are
the center, you know."
He was puzzled. "I'm not the center of anything. I'm Xander."
She laughed. "We must go outside now," she said. Xander nodded, dumb.
And out there in the alley, she kissed him – cool lips against his hot ones, holding his face
in both hands. Her lips moved to the side of his face, and then to his neck. The suction
was pleasant at first; "My first hickey," Xander thought.
She pulled back for a second; if Xander's eyes had been open, he would have seen her
face shift. They were closed, and so the sharp pain of fangs piercing flesh was his first
sign all was not well.
She giggled and held him more tightly as he flailed, trying to escape. When she released
him, it was only to prick her breast with a sharp, scarlet fingernail.
"Drink of me," she said, and he did.
*****
The next evening, Xander freed himself from the makeshift grave Drusilla had dug in the
cellar of an abandoned house not far from the Bronze. At first, he felt nothing but a
desperate need to make it to the surface. When he opened his eyes and brushed the dirt
out of his mouth, he realized that he was …. different. Stronger. Better.
Also hungry.
"What happened to me?" he asked Drusilla. "What did you do?"
She shook her head at him. "No questions until mummy's new boy has had something to
eat. I brought you a baby."
At first, he looked at the wriggling infant she presented him with revulsion. "I can't ... I
don't eat..."
She was all business. "Let me show you how," she said, and her face shifted into that of a
monster. Xander yelped, almost dropping the baby. Drusilla took it from his arms,
cooing. "You mustn't frighten the poor little lamb," she said, and sank her teeth into the
baby's throat. When she lifted her mouth, it was dripping in blood. "Now you, she said,
but Xander was already shifting into game face and leaning forward to taste the newborn.
He drank from the child – a girl, he saw – until there was no more, then let her body fall
to the floor.
Drusilla looked at him, curious, then raised a hand to caress his face. "That was good,
wasn't it?" He nodded. "Now you shall live on blood, and you shall never die, and we
shall have many games together."
"So I'm a vampire," Xander said. "You turned me." Smiling as he felt the newborn's
blood give him strength, he added "Thank you."
"Now come outside, I want to show you something." They walked out into the dark back
yard, and Drusilla gestured to the surrounding streets: The house sat on a slight hill, so
they were looking down on them. "Look at the world, all those lights," she said. "We
shall snuff them one by one." She clutched his arm, hissed at his ear. "But first, I think
my baby boy doesn't need mama and papa any more."
Xander smiled, nodded. Yes. He would repay his parents for their casual neglect, their
stink of alcohol, their screams at him and each other.
They would make it up to him in blood.
At his parents' house, his mother answered the door. "Where the hell were you,
Alexander?," she demanded, "And who's your little tramp?"
They were to be her last words, as Drusilla pounced upon her. Hearing the noise,
Xander's father came out of the bathroom with his pants unzipped, carrying the sports
section. "Jessica, what the heck-" and that was it for him, blood rich in Xander's mouth.
When he was done, he smacked his lips with satisfaction, smeared their blood onto the
walls.
Delighted, Drusilla took him by the hand and lead him into the bedroom. "You should
have a reward," she said, unbuttoning his shirt and kissing her way down his stomach.
She undid his pants, pulled out his rock-hard cock.
He groaned as she grazed him with her fingertips and the very tip of her tongue. A
moment and an eon later, she wriggled out of her dress and laid on top of him. "You like
this, don't you, pretty Xander?" she asked.
He could barely nod as she pulled him inside her inch by inch, warm and pulsing, rubbing
forward and back, smiling in her concentration.
It was too much. Xander exploded. Drusilla, still smiling, reached a finger down to touch
her cleft. "Get mommy off," she ordered him in a whimper, and he began to rub her as
she sat astride him, their bodies still connected, spiraling up to the stars.
Hours later, they pulled their clothes on. Xander stopped by his room, surveyed the
clothes and shoes and comic books with contempt. "This is a child's room," he thought.
Drusilla, saying nothing, took him by the hand and lead him onto the front porch.
"We have all the world," Drusilla said. "What shall we do next, my Xander?"
He looked around, noticed the bright sheen of the oil on the alley's pavement, the
mingling scent of blood and garbage and dirty oil. He pictured Willow bending over her
algebra homework and worrying about why he had missed his 8:45 phone call. He
imagined the sweet taste of her virgin's blood, the music of her screams.
And then he imagined taking her into this secret, better, brighter, truer world.
"I know just who we need to get first," he said, and his new face smiled.
Drusilla linked her arm through his. "Lead me to her," she said.
~finis~
Master list is here.