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snoggedTitle: She Was The Prize
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and many other corporations own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel the Series. I don’t.
Pairing: Sheila/Drusilla
Word Count: 595
Rating/Warnings: FRM/R
Setting: Buffy - Season 5 "Crush"
Summary: After losing Spike to the Slayer, Drusilla finds her prodigal daughter.
Beta: The always lovable,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
angelskuuipo
Author’s Note: Written for Round 64: Minor Characters at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
femslash_minis for aaronlisa. Her prompts were: Shelia (vampire from School Hard)/Drusilla, set sometime after Season Two, the past catching up to one of them, and bonding. I did my best to incorporate them all so I hope this works for you!
You don’t come here for the ambiance. You don’t come here for the intoxicating scent of leather and sweat. You come here for the burly men whose blood pumps so thick and hot through their veins that draining one or two is enough to sate your thirst for a whole week.
You also come here because it’s the only bar in town that makes you feel like you.
The old you.
The oldyou that once licked grime and tequila off the necks of bass players. The old you that once smoked hand-rolled, cheap-as-hell cigarettes in the girl’s bathroom back in elementary school. The old you that joked about winning the Parent-Teacher Night bake-off when the grand prize was expulsion.
Other blood suckers have called you pathetic for clinging to scraps from your past, but at least you’re not one of those vamp whores making pennies on the dollar in the human crack houses down in the Sunnydale red light district.
At least you managed to escape that version of your old life.
"Snip, snip, says the gardener and the flowers all scream."
Your unlife, however, has plenty it can’t escape from.
"Mommy."
The old you would have freaked about saying that word in public because your old mother was a raging bitch who didn't deserve it, but the new you knows the rewards of that word- and knows the punishment of forgetting it.
Drusilla, your sire, reaches her hand to touch your lips, pressing her index finger down on your bottom lip. The pressure is hard, but not enough to hurt. It’s meant as a reminder of the night she watched you take your first steps as a fledgling. That was the night she taught you there were better uses for your tongue than back-talk.
"Shh."
Drusilla giggles like a child, her finger never leaving your mouth while she simultaneously pushes you backwards across the floor. You don’t even notice you’re moving until your spine comes into contact with the crumbling cement wall and her hips and pelvis are bumping into yours.
"Fuck."
You know how much she hates it when you curse like a sailor and you can already see the shock and disappointment etching themselves into her porcelain doll features.
"Naughty girls get their filthy tongues greased with soap," Drusilla warns.
You grin seductively and bat your eyelashes, running your cursed tongue across your top lip.
"And what do good girls get?"
You may not have a clue what your sire wants from you tonight, but the fact is that you really don’t give a shit at this point. Not when Drusilla’s thigh is wedged between your own legs, pressing up against your heated core. You rub against her like a bitch in heat and she hisses, smacking you across the cheek for your insolence.
As the sting in your cheek blooms across the side of your face, you look into her feral eyes, questioning her rejection of your quest for physical bonding.
"They get to be family again."
Drusilla’s anger dissipates as quickly as it formed and her head tips forward, her plump lips brushing against yours, her tongue darting out to lay a swatch of saliva across the pale expanse of your tingling cheek. It’s enough to send a shiver down your spine.
"Sounds fun."
With Drusilla in your life again, you don’t think twice about leaving your past behind you when you walk out the front door of the greasy dive bar.
You no longer feel the urge to cling to the old you.
Because this is the prize you’ve really been searching for your whole life.
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and many other corporations own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel the Series. I don’t.
Pairing: Sheila/Drusilla
Word Count: 595
Rating/Warnings: FRM/R
Setting: Buffy - Season 5 "Crush"
Summary: After losing Spike to the Slayer, Drusilla finds her prodigal daughter.
Beta: The always lovable,
angelskuuipoAuthor’s Note: Written for Round 64: Minor Characters at
femslash_minis for aaronlisa. Her prompts were: Shelia (vampire from School Hard)/Drusilla, set sometime after Season Two, the past catching up to one of them, and bonding. I did my best to incorporate them all so I hope this works for you!You don’t come here for the ambiance. You don’t come here for the intoxicating scent of leather and sweat. You come here for the burly men whose blood pumps so thick and hot through their veins that draining one or two is enough to sate your thirst for a whole week.
You also come here because it’s the only bar in town that makes you feel like you.
The old you.
The oldyou that once licked grime and tequila off the necks of bass players. The old you that once smoked hand-rolled, cheap-as-hell cigarettes in the girl’s bathroom back in elementary school. The old you that joked about winning the Parent-Teacher Night bake-off when the grand prize was expulsion.
Other blood suckers have called you pathetic for clinging to scraps from your past, but at least you’re not one of those vamp whores making pennies on the dollar in the human crack houses down in the Sunnydale red light district.
At least you managed to escape that version of your old life.
"Snip, snip, says the gardener and the flowers all scream."
Your unlife, however, has plenty it can’t escape from.
"Mommy."
The old you would have freaked about saying that word in public because your old mother was a raging bitch who didn't deserve it, but the new you knows the rewards of that word- and knows the punishment of forgetting it.
Drusilla, your sire, reaches her hand to touch your lips, pressing her index finger down on your bottom lip. The pressure is hard, but not enough to hurt. It’s meant as a reminder of the night she watched you take your first steps as a fledgling. That was the night she taught you there were better uses for your tongue than back-talk.
"Shh."
Drusilla giggles like a child, her finger never leaving your mouth while she simultaneously pushes you backwards across the floor. You don’t even notice you’re moving until your spine comes into contact with the crumbling cement wall and her hips and pelvis are bumping into yours.
"Fuck."
You know how much she hates it when you curse like a sailor and you can already see the shock and disappointment etching themselves into her porcelain doll features.
"Naughty girls get their filthy tongues greased with soap," Drusilla warns.
You grin seductively and bat your eyelashes, running your cursed tongue across your top lip.
"And what do good girls get?"
You may not have a clue what your sire wants from you tonight, but the fact is that you really don’t give a shit at this point. Not when Drusilla’s thigh is wedged between your own legs, pressing up against your heated core. You rub against her like a bitch in heat and she hisses, smacking you across the cheek for your insolence.
As the sting in your cheek blooms across the side of your face, you look into her feral eyes, questioning her rejection of your quest for physical bonding.
"They get to be family again."
Drusilla’s anger dissipates as quickly as it formed and her head tips forward, her plump lips brushing against yours, her tongue darting out to lay a swatch of saliva across the pale expanse of your tingling cheek. It’s enough to send a shiver down your spine.
"Sounds fun."
With Drusilla in your life again, you don’t think twice about leaving your past behind you when you walk out the front door of the greasy dive bar.
You no longer feel the urge to cling to the old you.
Because this is the prize you’ve really been searching for your whole life.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
on 2011-10-28 07:12 pm (UTC)Gabrielle
no subject
on 2011-10-28 07:19 pm (UTC)