RockStarPeach

So, it's the absolutely sweetest little

zoesmith

Summary: When the gang goes out looking for Dru after she killed Darla, things go a little differently.

Beta'd by

snogged

Rooftop Tea Party

*

“Oh… Crap! Crap! Crap! Crap!” Fred whispered to herself, as she frantically fumbled inside her pocket with shaky fingers, searching for her cell phone.

She hid on the top level of the stairwell, peeking out onto the roof through the small rectangular window, nervously nibbling at her lower lip. She hoped the thick steel door and cinderblock construction would be enough to muffle her ragged breathing, her whispered curses, the pounding of her heart.

The gang had decided to split up, their research turning up seven different possible plant nurseries that Wolfram and Hart had been doing business with, and therefore seven different likely locations that Drusilla might choose for Darla’s rebirth.

And of course, Fred had to check out the right one.

She watched Drusilla dance, sway really, back and forth, hands waving over a mound of dirt that she could see Darla’s face, and random bits of the white fabric of her dress, peeking out from. Drusilla looked just as about as crazy as Cordelia had said she was, but she was eerily pretty, mesmerising almost. Her long red dress moved in waves around her legs, her flowing dark hair a stark contrast to her porcelain skin, and Fred paused for a moment to watch her, unable to do anything else. Must have been one of those crazy vampire thrall things she’d read about in some cheesy novel.

Then Drusilla stopped moving, hands out in front of her, elbows bent, hips tilted mid sway, and she cocked her head, opened her eyes.

Crap! Fred thought again, and shook her head, turning away from the window and taking a step back, in case the crazy vampire looked her way. She finally managed to dig the phone out of her pocket and looked down at the keypad, bringing up the phone book and scrolling down for Angel’s number. It was second on the list, and once it was highlighted, she bit her bottom lip nervously, hitting the send button with her thumb.

Before the call had even started to ring through, the door slammed open, knocking into the wall opposite Fred with an eardrum-shattering CRASH, and Drusilla’s head poked through the open doorway, wide, innocent eyes staring at Fred, blinking slowly.

“It’s not polite to come to a party and hide in the corner,” Drusilla told her, somewhere between scolding and inviting.

“I…” Fred started, voice tense and shaky, cell phone letting out the muted sounds of connecting with Angel’s. “I was just…” And then she bolted, trying to duck past Drusilla and down the stairs.

She should have known it was a stupid thing to do, even before she did it, but she was cornered, and really have any other choice. Drusilla caught her, wrapped her cool, slender fingers around Fred’s tiny wrist and yanked her back, through the broken stairwell door and out onto the rooftop. She tossed her against the brick wall next to the doorway, cracking a bone or two in her wrist and dislocating her shoulder.

And she did it with so much ease and grace that Fred was sort of impressed, despite herself.

“And what’s this?” Drusilla asked, tracing one blood red fingernail on her free hand down Fred’s arm to the phone in her hand. They could both now hear Angel’s tinny voice shouting ‘Hello?’ and ‘Fred?’ and ‘Are you okay?’.

Fred took a breath, looked down at the phone in her free hand and prepared to shout, to scream, to tell Angel to come and find her, but the vampire leaned in close to her, pressed her slender body against Fred’s and her mouth over Fred’s ear. “Shhhh,” she whispered. “Bad dolly.”

She plucked the phone out of Fred’s unresisting hand and dropped it to the floor. “Fred? Dru? Dru!!” Angel’s voice shouted from far away, just before Drusilla’s foot came down, dainty little heel smashing through the flimsy device, bits of metal and plastic and wire cracking and breaking as the line went dead.

“Angel hasn’t been invited to this party,” Drusilla said, knuckles caressing Fred’s face softly, the gentle action contradicting the slightly evil gleam in her eyes. “But you can stay. Such a pretty little dolly shouldn’t be sent home all alone before we’ve even had cake.”

“Thanks,” Fred said, trying to smile, but she only succeeded in cringing. Yup, this girl was crazy alright. Completely loony. And Fred was just about as scared as she’d ever been, pinned to wall by Angel’s psychotic offspring, and knowing that this was one party she’d be glad to miss. “That’s real nice of ya, but... but I need to get goin’ and it looks like this was just a private party anyway and I don’t even like cake…”

Drusilla frowned, and Fred thought it looked like she was concentrating very hard on something. “We’ll have tea,” she finally said, sounding incredibly pleased about the plan. “Grandmummy will be waking up soon. We can watch the birth together, and then we’ll have a party, my pretty little dolly. There’ll be dancing and singing and Grandmummy will be so very pleased.”

“That’s uh… That’s great,” Fred said, trying to sound enthusiastic. Oh, God if Angel would just hurry the hell up and get here…. He’d known where Fred was going, knew it was her who’d called him, and the place he’d been searching wasn’t that far away. All she had to do was keep Dru occupied, keep her doing anything that wasn’t killing her, until either Angel showed up, or she saw a chance to escape. “You know, I’m sure you’ll be happy to see her again, and she’ll be real happy that you saved her and all.”

Drusilla darted forward abruptly, tongue darting out and licking a stripe along Fred’s neck, from her collar bone to just behind her ear, smooth and slow, almost methodical. Fred was unable to suppress a shiver, and she just knew that the vampire could tell she was scared, could hear her heart racing, feel it through her chest, probably smell some of bizarre fear-smell that only vampires knew about. And she really hoped that it wasn’t going to make her a more appealing target.

“Gee,” she said, when Drusilla pulled back, staring at her with those wide, childlike eyes. “That’s uh… nice. You know, thanks.” The scary thing was, it had been nice. In a completely messed up ‘I’m going to die any minute and this woman is compellingly, creepily, appealing’ sort of way.

Drusilla narrowed her eyebrows just slightly before picking Fred up, cradling her in her arms. “You should have a better seat,” she said, and Fred almost laughed at Dru thinking that being pinned up against rough, scratchy brickwork had counted as a seat. “You’ll need a much better view for the birth.”

She carried Fred across the roof, over to where she had Darla laid out, half buried in rich soil on a table, and sat her down in a rickety wooden chair, white paint peeling off showing the old, greying wood underneath. One of the legs was shorter than the other three, and it wobbled as she sat, lodging small splinters of wood into her back and butt. It might not have actually been a ‘seat’ but the wall was a hell of a lot more comfortable.

“Ooooh,” Drusilla whined, a piteous sort of sound as she stood up and looked around the roof, taking in Darla, their guest, all the gardening supplies, and not much else. “I haven’t got a kettle. Or teacups. Or…” she stopped, seemingly pulled out of whatever funk had made her think that not having those things was the end of the world, and frowned. “Or tea.”

She shrugged her shoulders and turned to look at Fred, bones shifting under the skin as she slid into her demonic face. “I’ll just have to find something else to drink.”

“What?!” Fred squeaked, jumping back and preparing herself to stand up. It didn’t do any good, of course. Drusilla was too fast, too strong, and she was on Fred almost before the woman could move, holding her down with one strong hand, nails digging painfully into her thigh.

“No, no you don’t want to drink me,” Fred tried to convince her. Angel would be here soon, she knew it, and all she had to do was keep Drusilla from sucking her blood until the friendly bloodsucker showed up. “There’d be screaming, and bleeding, and dying, and all that bad stuff, and it would ruin the party. Right?”

Drusilla smiled, licking her tongue suggestively over a very pointy, very intimidating fang, eye’s glinting with an ill disguised hunger. Oh, double crap! It honestly hadn’t occurred to Fred, until after she’d finished talking, that those things she’d mentioned would be probably be the definition of a party for an insane, evil vampire.

Drusilla leaned in closer, opening her mouth wide, eerie light catching off her sharp teeth, as she moved slowly toward Fred’s vulnerable neck. Fred tensed, closed her eyes, prayed, thought once more about running, but knew she wouldn’t get very far.

“But… But don’t you want company? At least until Darla wakes up? It could get awful lonely sitting around, waitin’, by yourself.” She held her breath, able to feel the slight prick of the fangs at her neck as they were pressed forward, causing a slight indentation. The bite grew harder, very briefly, but didn’t cause any real damage, before Drusilla stopped and pulled away.

“Okay,” she said, seeming more lucid than she’d seemed since Fred had shown up. “It’s better if I save you. I’m sure Grandmum would like a snack when she wakes. She’ll be ever so hungry.”

Great, thought Fred, but at least she’d bought herself a little bit of time. “Oh, Good. Cause, you know… We need to think about Darla…”

“Mmmm,” Dru hummed, probably agreeing, but Fred couldn’t really tell. “We can still have fun, though, together. Me and my pretty new dolly, until grandmum wakes up and we can start our celebration.”

Fred didn’t even have time to wonder exactly what Drusilla meant by ‘have fun’, before she was behind her, kneeling on the ground behind Fred’s chair, one hand at her throat, not choking, just holding her still, nails threatening to dig in dangerously if Fred tried to move. The other hand was laid flat against her sternum, making Fred all to aware of the rapid beating of her own heart and she jerked, pressing her neck uncomfortably into three sharp nails. Drusilla simultaneously closed her lips over Fred’s neck, kissing her softly, and slid her hand down to cup one pert breast, pinching the hardening nipple gently between thumb and finger.

Fred wanted to scream, wanted to run, almost wanted to cry, but hell, she also wanted Dru to keep going, just a tiny little bit. She knew she shouldn’t; Drusilla was evil, was probably going to kill her, or let Darla do it, and she was the last person that she should be attracted to. Must be that damn thrall again.

It felt though, what Drusilla was doing to her, despite, or maybe because of, how afraid she was, but not good enough for her to forget about the danger she was in. She didn’t want to let her guard down, wanted to keep alert for any possible chance to get away. But in order to do that, she needed the vampire to think she was relaxed, to relax herself and think that Fred wasn’t planning on going anywhere.

She did her best not to tense up any further, to slump back in the chair, melt into Dru’s touches, and it was easier than she wished it was. The hand left her breast, slid down her belly and under her t-shirt, fingers playing over the taut skin of her belly as it fluttered and twitched under the attention.

One finger, then another, slipped under the waistband of her pants, moving the course, dark hair before disappearing, hand pulled free. She almost whimpered, okay, did whimper, and Dru chuckled, licking the shell of her ear with an agile tongue and flicking the button on Fred’s jeans open, fingers plunging back inside.

The grip on her neck was loosened, deadly nails pulled away, aimed downward, to give her some room to squirm, no doubt, but Fred was grateful for it. Drusilla was clearly getting carried away, though Fred was too. She knew her breathing was a different kind of ragged than it had been a few minutes ago, and that she would probably smell a whole lot more like lust than fear at the moment. She knew she needed to keep her head, needed to go along with this only as far as it took to keep her alive, and her imminent death was a very helpful splash of cold water.

Dru’s fingers moved further down, sliding between her moist fold, middle finger flicking over her clit, first softly, slowly, then with almost too much force and speed to be entirely comfortable. It was still pleasurable though, in an almost painful way, and she moaned and jerked and then cried out, long and loud, when Dru pulled her legs apart and shoved three fingers inside her, hard and fast.

She bucked up against Dru’s hand, lodging the fingers in as far as they could go and pressing her clit up against the vampires palm, her own hands grabbing the chair so hard she thought she might further splinter the wood.

Okay, this was very, very wrong, very incredibly messed up, Fred couldn’t help thinking, getting finger fucked by one by crazy vampire chick while she started at and waited for another one to rise from the dead. And it was times like this, not there was any other time like this, that she sort of missed now normal Pylea seemed in comparison.

But this was going well, relatively speaking, and she wasn’t dead yet, wasn’t going to be, in all likelihood, at least until Darla woke up. Drusilla was a stunningly pretty girl, er, demon, and she must have had a lot of practice at this, because she was making Fred feel things she’d never felt before, touching her in all the right spots in all the right ways.

Fred just needed to stay focused, and if she could just get Drusilla distracted enough… She took a deep breath, moved against Dru’s invading hand, and turned her head, seeking out Dru’s mouth.

“Yes, that’s it, my sweet blossom,” Drusilla cooed in her ear. “Let mummy take care of you.” And she pressed her lips to Fred’s, gently opening up her lips to slide her tongue out, into Fred’s slightly open mouth.

Fred responded immediately, not be she wanted to, not because she liked it, because damit, she didn’t, but because this was it. This was her chance. And she took it, leaning forward, deepening the kiss, falling out of her chair and on top of Dru, under the guise of being lost in the passion, the lust, of trying to get closer.

Dru seemed to let her, hand slipping free of Fred’s pants, and she was both pissed off and thankful about that, and her hand went straight for Dru’s dress, pulling it up her leg, exposing her glistening pussy to the cool night air.

Fred shivered at the sight and Dru just smile, leaned back against the rough cement of the roof floor and spread her legs, inviting Fred in.

Fred leaned forward, hesitating only slightly before she covered Dru’s crotch with her hand, fingers working through her slick fold and dipping very lightly inside her. Drusilla closed her eyes, moaned and keened and very much overplayed how good it must have felt, at least for Fred’s tastes, but that was good, that was what she needed.

She kept at it a while longer, unable to stop staring as Dru writhed and bucked under her, and for just a moment she wished that this beautiful girl wasn’t evil and crazy, but she was, and Fred couldn’t just sit here, getting her off and waiting for death.

Trying not to disturb the pattern of her ministrations, she reached back with her free hand, grabbing tight hold of the leg of the chair she’d been sitting on… and yanked it forward in a flash, using all her might to lift it off the ground and aim it at Drusilla’s head.

The pain in her shattered wrist was considerable, but it worth it, she thought as the blow landed, hard and true, and Fred pulled her other hand free and got up, not bothering to look back as she bolted for the open stairwell door.

Drusilla had been dazed, shocked by the unexpected blow, but she laughed maniacally as she rolled over and stood, head ringing, but otherwise fine. If the girl had been thinking, she would have broken the leg off the chair and used it as a stake.

Fred didn’t get very far, not more than a half dozen steps, and she was stopped by an angry looking Drusilla, whipping her around with a handful of her hair and slamming her head into the wall of a shed, hard. She felt tears pricking her eyes from the pain, and from the knowledge that she’d failed. She’d had one shot, and she’d obviously taken it too soon, or not soon enough, and she was screwed now.

Drusilla probably wouldn’t bother waiting until Darla woke up to kill her, not after that little stunt, and nobody else was there yet, not Angel or Wes or Cordy, and she was going to die, all alone, at a vampires hands.

“You’ve been a bad little girl,” Dru scolded, after making a ‘tsk’ing sound and shaking her head, then drawing her head back in a snarl, like a cobra about to strike.

Fred cringed and closed her eyes, tears dripping down her face, and prepared for the worst.

“No, Dru,” they both heard, Angel’s voice coming the top of the stairs. They both turned to look at him, all glowry and coat billowing as he took a menacing step forward, and Fred was vividly reminded of why she’d used to find that cheesy look so attractive. It meant life. “I think you’re the one who’s been a bad girl.”

Drusilla stepped back from Fred, facing Angel and moving toward him. “Daddy?” she asked, and Fred was once again amazing that this creature could go from cold blooded killer to hopeful little girl in a New York minute.

“Run, Fred,” Angel ordered, moving fully out on to the roof to give her space to escape behind him.

“But…” she protested, shaking her head, trying to think. She couldn’t leave Angel hear to deal with Dru on his own, could she? Not when Darla was about to wake up.

“Run!” he growled, not even looking at her, eyes fixated on the other vampire. Okay, maybe she could. She nodded, even though she knew he wasn’t looking and ran, as fast as she could, down the stairs and outside, looking for the nearest payphone.

“You’ve been a bad girl, Dru,” Angel continued, voice almost playful, after Fred had disappeared down the stairs. “And a bad girl deserves a spanking, don’t you think?”

END