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Story Notes:
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Joss, and others, of course.
Dedication: Written for Sheepfairy for femslash_minis.
Request(s): One, Kendra/Drusilla (licking, fighting, hypnotism); Two, Kendra/Buffy (junk food, stuffed animals, bonding)
I. “Bones in the Stones” (Drusilla)

There are stories in the bones.

She casts them from her fingertips, spreads them on the stones of the beach. Overhead the stars sing and the moon rises full and heavy, the witch in it turning her face away, coy with her magic.

Drusilla can taste it in the air, sweet, thick power on her tongue. There is blood in the corners of her mouth.

She stirs the stones and bones with one slender finger. Her nail is painted black and tipped in white – pristine for something so often dipped in blood. It spins out tales, one possibility after another, the past perfect and future potential.

Her Slayer is coming.

Drusilla tilts her head toward the moon, basks in light reflected from the sun, as close as she can get to it now. It touches her forehead and she closes her eyes and hums a tune, the song falling to earth with the starlight.

She is hungry, and she will feed.


“What are you doing, pet?”

She dances in a circle around him, and he slowly turns his chair, trying to keep up. Her poor, poor boy, trapped in wheels and steel and broken bones. He isn’t right, deep inside, she can hear it calling to her, begging to be fixed.

Drusilla rakes her claws at him, but all she catches is air. He’s too far gone, she cannot reach inside him and make things right.

“Waiting for the Slayer,” she says, and sings the songs of the stars. “She will come to me.”


Come she did, the Slayer. Drusilla licks her lips and her fingertips and listens to the whisper of the moon, the dreadful things it croons into her ear. Terrible things are coming, so say the echoes of whispers in her head, but with them she hears the high note that is her Slayer.

“Do you want to be good?” she asks. “I did once.”

“I know you did,” Angelus says, and drags his nails down the side of her throat.

She isn’t speaking to him, and he turns away soon enough, busy with his plans for the end of the world. The wind whips her dress around her legs, and she knows it carries her words where she desires they go.

Drusilla calls to her with the siren song of vampire and Vampire Slayer.


Drusilla’s head snaps back when the Slayer hits her in the chin. It hurts so good, makes her teeth nip into her tongue, and she can taste blood. It’s an appetizer, it whets her hunger, and she laughs even as the Slayer kicks her in the stomach.

“Do you hear the songs?” she asks, and rolls her body away from the next blow.

The Slayer ignores her. She isn’t like Buffy, she doesn’t say silly little things to cover her fear, she simply breathes and attacks, harder with each punch, each kick.

Her braid whips past and Drusilla grabs it, jerks her around in a circle, pulls her down to her knees. She’s been humming a song the entire time, just at the edge of hearing, and now that the fight is paused, it works its magic.

“Dear Kendra,” she whispers, and pulls on the braid to twist her head to bare her throat. She wears no cross, just a simple silver chain. Her lips are full, and painted red, though she wears little other make-up. She looks delicious, a lovely shell over fresh, rich blood. “Listen to my song.”

Drusilla sings not with words but with the stories of the stars, their pulsing rhythm a distant heartbeat. She licks a line up the Slayer’s throat, and feels the echo of the universe beneath her skin.

She sucks hard and a bruise appears, uneven, lovely. She licks at it, savoring the salt of sweat and the taste of power contained and controlled by her hymn.

“Pray,” she orders, and allows her face to shift. Her fangs scrape against skin, and leave scratches behind. “Let me hear you cry for mercy in your screams.”

“Lord,” Kendra says, but her voice is muzzy and weak. Drusilla smiles to herself and leans in once more. Her fangs push in, just enough that she can taste blood, and it is indeed a heady thing, full of music and dreams.

Kendra snaps back her head, slams it into Drusilla’s face, breaking her nose, breaking her song. Clouds blow across the moon, and it turns from her, hides its face in displeasure. She fades into the shadows, and disappears before the Slayer finds her stake.


Drusilla’s song is bottled in her throat as she makes her way home, but she is not discouraged. She will learn another tune and she will try again. There are stronger means than hummed melodies and she will capture all that is the Slayer.

She will spill her blood.

II. “Chocolate Peace” (Buffy)

“Do you want something else to wear to bed?” Buffy asks, but gets no answer. When she glances up from her dresser, she realizes Kendra is standing at the window, but hasn’t heard a word she’s said. She rubs the side of her throat and stares out into the darkness.

The sun will rise soon, but not soon enough. He’s out there, making more vampires, planning to end the world.

Buffy shakes off those thoughts, and concentrates instead on Kendra. For the first time she notices her braid is mussed and there is dirt on the knees of her pants.

“Are you okay?” she asks, and crosses the room. Kendra jumps when she touches her shoulder.

“Yes.” She drops her hand away from her throat. “I just ran into a couple vamps earlier. This town is overflowing.”

“That’s what happens when dark forces rise,” Buffy tries to make a joke of it, but it falls flat. She’s lost a lot of her sense of humor since Angel changed. She’s lost a lot of everything since then. “Did you get hurt?”

Kendra shakes her head, but her hand drifts up to her throat again. Buffy looked, when it was uncovered, just in case, but there are no bite marks. She’s relieved.

“Hungry?” she asks, and turns away, gives the other Slayer space. She knows what it feels like when something gets just a little too close to taking a bite. “Mom keeps chips and sodas stocked downstairs. We can do a girls night, pig out, talk about cute boys, and later have a pillow fight. All those teen movie stereotypes.”

Kendra sighs and turns away from the window at last. “Shouldn’t we be making a plan?”

“Oh, that’s right, you’re not real big on the pop culture.” Buffy shrugs. “Or the downtime for that matter. Come on. Tomorrow’s another day, we’ll patrol, we’ll save the world. Tonight, I could use a break. Just an hour or so, you’ll feel better after. I promise.”

“Well,” Kendra hesitates, and then grins. “You mentioned food?”

“I’ll grab it.” Buffy goes back to her dresser and pulls out a spare set of pajamas. She tosses them at Kendra, who catches them with ease. Of course she does, she’s just as quick. “You change.”


Kendra really likes double chocolate fudge ice cream. Buffy mostly sticks with the chips, she’s been craving salty things, but it’s fun to watch the way Kendra’s face lights up. Her lipstick has worn off, and she looks younger without it and in the silk shorts and camisole.

She’s very pretty, Buffy thinks. Strong, too.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Buffy admits. She pokes Kendra’s calf with her toes. “Thanks for coming to help.”

Kendra shrugs. “I go where my Watcher says.” Buffy can tell she’s pleased, though.

“I know. Still, thanks.”

She flops back onto her pillow, and grabs Mr. Gordo into a hug. She hadn’t slept with him for years, but after – sometimes it was nice to have something in bed with her when she came in from patrol, something to cuddle when she couldn’t sleep.

“Has a vampire ever got a bite of you?” Kendra asks. It might sound out of the blue, but Buffy’s not surprised. She was right; something got a little too close.

“Yes,” she says, and waits for her to ask more questions, but Kendra lets it go. Instead she stretches out next to Buffy and puts her hand on Mr. Gordo.

It takes Buffy a long time to go to sleep, but it’s nice to have someone else there, someone warm, someone who knows what it’s like.

In the morning, when she wakes, Kendra’s already dressed and doing push ups, but she stops in the middle and gives Buffy a smile.

So it’s the end of the world again, Buffy thinks. At least she’s not all alone, not the only girl in all the world.


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