Moonlight and Fairytales
Moonlight and Fairytales
Author: Xeelia
Fandom: Buffy
Pairng: Dawn/Drusilla/Angelus
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Dawn goes to fairytale picnics
Disclaimer: Not my characters
Moonlight illuminated the forest and made it appear as a mystical wood from one of her fairytales. Buffy always laughed at her about them, saying that an eighteen year old who was still in love with fairytales was pathetic but she liked them. Fairytales were better than the nightmare that was her life.
She spread the picnic blanket out on the grass in the clearing she had chosen days before. She wanted everything perfect when he guest appeared, which she knew would be soon. She took out the delicately decorated cookies and cupcakes, all sprinkled with edible glitter, and set two place settings.
It wasn’t until she knew her guest would be only a few moments more before she tipped the teapot to pour them both a cup of the hot black tea.
Fairy light giggling drifted towards her and she knew her guest had arrived. “Are you a fairy queen tonight? Or perhaps a mean naughty pixie?”
Drusilla wafted into the clearing like she was walking on air. “Oh my silly Sunshine! Why I am neither of those, I am the fairy godmother! I have come to make the sun into the moon!”
Dawn giggled. “And how are you going to do that and not get caught by my sister Dru?”
Drusilla smiled serenely. “The nasty Slayer has found out that my naughty broken boy came back, hell and back a vampire’s holiday! She is off to coo and scratch him. She will be too late and I will have a fairy princess for a daughter!”
Drusilla frowned then. “But first we must have your party my pretty girl, then I will give birth you!”
As they giggled and shared cookies and tea they never noticed the dark shape watching them. They danced under the moonlight in thin gossamer dresses with bare feet and giggled and were truly happy, their observer knew this and smiled.
Finally it was only a couple hours until sunrise. The girls were seated beneath a large oak tree, their observed thought of how ironic it was that the oak represented knowledge to his ancestors. Drusilla cooed to the girl and morphed but a single word from their observer stopped her movement.
“No.”
Angel walked into the dying moonlight and smiled. “You are princess not a godmother Dru, only Daddy makes new princesses.”
Both girls knew he had been cast off by Buffy, by Spike, by his precious Powers That Be, they could see it in his movements, in the dark glint in his eyes. He was no longer Angel or Angelus but a combination of the two.
So they offered him cake and cookies, giggling when the glitter stuck to his face but licking it off to make him smile.
The next month the girls giggled with glee as their Daddy watched them dance and sing, their fangs glistening in the moonlight.