disclaimer: Not mine. Dru is Whedon's undead princess. The other belongs to Rowling.
summary: Dru gets an interesting present from an unexpected source for her birthday.
notes: One shot . Scenario #47 on the Next Level. "Would someone please give Drusilla a _____ ?" You'll have to read it to fill in the blank.
She eyed the package carefully. The thing was directly in her path. It had not been there before. She had been walking back from a dinner she had not eaten anything at when she'd heard a noise, looked away, then looked back, and nearly stepped upon it. A package. The paper was a pretty shiny silver, and the box had a big black ribbon tied across it. Who had known it was her birthday? Daddy? The nasty slayer? Not likely. Though Daddy had been speaking to her again since she'd gotten all respectable-like when the sticky sweet witch had burdened her with a soul.
A soul that had just made her a little bit crazier.
But Drusilla wouldn't think on that just now. That way led to madness... and tea parties with blindfolded dolls. She was having a decidedly un-mad day today. Why test it? Plus she was here. With a package. On her birthday. That had to be a good sign.
Dru had a seat on the stone steps she had been heading towards and pulled the bow off carefully. She was aware of eyes upon her. She could feel them watching her. Someone was lurking in the shadows of the hallway. She pretended not to notice. Where was the fun in that? Let them watch. It was likely the secret gift giver seeing her reaction to the package without having to sit through the nervousness of whether she would like it or not. She would like it regardless. Dru loved presents. Most everyone had figured that out by now.
She delicately unwrapped the package, being ever so careful of the paper. She'd had it told to her once recently that how you opened a present was an indicator of what sort of lover you were. Before she had ripped into things... literally. That indicated she had been selfish in bed. Too true... just ask her Spike. But since the slayer's witch had come across her and ensouled her to keep her from making any more 'trouble', Drusilla was a bit more careful. She was a bit more pacing and tried to savor... and not just in her bed. It was her new outlook on unlife. Savor.
Drusilla set the paper on the step next to her and looked at the box. A Spike-alicious smirk crept of her china doll face. She let out a loud guffaw of laughter. Most unladylike, her mummy would have said if Angelus had not ripped her throat open and bled her out on the nice rug in their front sitting room. Dru laughed with her whole body just then. Great peals of it escaped from her mouth in a raucous manner making her belly quiver in mirth and her side ache a bit. Most unbecoming, her mummy would have said.
But it was a Barbie.
She'd seen Barbies before... but had never owned one. And someone had altered this one. It had long, dark, brown hair.... like hers. It wore a gossamer white gown with an empire waistline... like she used to. Its eyes were dark blue, like hers, and it sported painted on fangs.... well, hers weren't exactly painted on.
It also wasn't alone in the box.
There was a blonde in a short skirt in there with her. One who had two painted-on bleeding puncture wounds on her neck.
Vampire Barbie... with free victim.
Those words were hysterically painted over the actual writing that had been on the box. It was done up in dark as night blacks and deep blood reds instead of Barbie's trademark bubblegum pink. Drusilla laughed again. She touched a painted black nail to the thick plastic window that showed the dolls. Someone had put a lot of thought into this. It delighted her... even though she wasn't much for playing with dolls these days. It was going in her office where everyone who came in could see it.
"The queen of cups drinks deeply from her chalice today of all days." She murmured as she caressed the painted cardboard lovingly.
"Do you like it?" A voice whispered from the shadows.
"Come and sit with me, puppy."
Drusilla watched in a moment of clarity as the returning Defense Against the Dark Arts professor - one Remus Lupin - stepped forward. She had known he was there. He smelled better than most men. His scent was a lovely combination of man, dirt, and something she liked to think of as the call of the wild. His robes were threadbare, but who was she to make a fuss? Spike would often wear the same outfit for a decade or more. At least Remus changed his clothes almost every day, worn though they were.
He sat down gingerly, as if he were tired. It wasn't just his wardrobe that was worn. It was the man as well. No matter. Dru took his hand in hers. They had just ended a lunar cycle, of course he was exhausted.
"Whatever made you think of this?"
"You mentioned once that of all the dolls you had owned, you had never owned a Barbie. I've taken muggle studies. I just went out and got one. I had Dean Thomas paint the box and alter the dolls."
She had mentioned... once. And he'd remembered. "It's lovely."
"You aren't offended?"
"Why should I be, dearie?"
"You tell the students not to point out that you are a vampire."
"Well, it's fairly obvious. I make it no secret. My classroom has shutters, blinds, and thick heavy curtains on the one window. I don't go around pointin' out which ones of them are human... and who has a bit of somethin' else in 'em. It's as rude as callin' someone a mudblood to me. And besides, pet, you aren't a student."
"No. I'm not."
"So don't worry none, luv. We none of us should go forgettin' who we are."
"I didn't mean for it to be a reminder-"
"I know. It's lovely. Really. Thank you, Professor Lupin."
"You can call me Remus, you know. I've told you that."
"All right then.... Remus."
"And how many years young are you again?"
"A lady never tells."
"A *LADY* never tells, hmm? Like I said, you're how old? Do you know what Dumbledore looked like with no beard and what hair color he has? Is this your bicentennial?"
Drusilla swatted him on the arm playfully. "Stop that. I'll not tell you."
"Stopping." He paused for a moment. "So would the Divination professor allow the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher to escort her for a walk on such a fine night that happens to also be her birthday? There's no moon tonight. Just stars."
"All right, but if they start talkin' to me, pet, we are so comin' back to the indoors."
Remus chuckled as he helped her to her feet. "Check. Speaking stars equal indoors-bound werewolf and vampiress."