London - 1880
Drusilla hummed the tuneless song to herself, her arm linked with Spike’s as they walked along the busy street. She paused, a smile on her face as she glanced behind her at the passing couple.
"The moon speaks in riddles to me," she mused.
Spike glanced back, watching the couple. He had no idea what she was on about, so he simply tightened his arm about her waist, steering her along. “Come now, Dru. We mustn’t keep the others waiting.”
She walked along with him for a time before she stopped, drawn to a shop window. Silent, she reached out her fingers to touch the glass, staring within it at the goods available. “She’s here…”
Spike inclined his head slightly, his gaze fixed on Drusilla for the longest moment before he glanced into the shop. He peered, curiously. He didn’t see anything, save for the display of various china dolls. “No one’s here, Dru.”
"But she is, William. I can hear her." Drusilla closed her eyes, head canting to the side as she listened to something only she could hear.
Spike continued to watch her for a long moment, before his arm wrapped around her waist and he moved her toward the shop’s door. He didn’t know what it was she was going on about, but there must be something to it, else she’d whine about it later.
Her eyes opened and she grinned widely as they stepped into the shop. Immediately, Drusilla broke herself away from her Childe and stepped over to a doll. Carefully, she picked it up from its display, cradling it to her like a mother with a newborn child. “She’s perfect.”
A doll. So, that’s what she wanted. It seemed simple enough and he shrugged. He was actually more interested in the shopkeeper. His face vamping out, he greeted the man with a fangy grin, hand gripping his shirt front as he dragged him across the counter. “Taking this one on credit, mate.”