Author's Notes: Thought of this after watching the Phantom movie for the second time. Song lyrics belong to Andrew Lloyd Webber.

One Lifetime

(An Angel Fic)

Drusilla's eating habits were always very simple, she liked her victims young - no older than adolescent age. She preferred to eat children - the blood of the innocent always tasted the best.

She had rarely touched a child since William died.

Drusilla dined most frequently on young boys now. Boys that looked like him. Virgins, if she could find them. Virgins with wide eyes and beautiful curls and a slight stammer in their speech.

Their bodies were warm - warm like William's once was. Their blood was not his, but if she closed her eyes and feigned effulgence Drusilla could almost imagine each victim was William in her arms; that they were dying as he had been dying over a century ago full of passion and promises of eternity.

She never turned these boys. They could never be William and it did her no good to play with the shadows of a lifetime that no longer belonged to her. She was content to feed from these men, but she never offered them the Dark Curse.

She often watched the pixies dance around the ones she killed. They were quite nimble and danced with the grace of Russian stage performers. They never sang, but preferred silence as they moved. This night was different. The pixies still danced, but they refused to circle the body. They only spun around the torso. One of the pixies pointed to the breast pocket. Curiously, Drusilla put her fingers there and pulled out a ticket.

She usually didn't go to the theater. In truth, she didn't much care for the pictures. She'd pretended to, to make Spike happy. He'd so loved to watch them with her - she tried not to think about that. William was dead now. She needn't concern herself with him.

She considered dropping the ticket to the ground, but then she saw a nasty pixie frowning at her. If she displeased it, there was a good chance it and its friends would pull out her hair. She wouldn't much like to be bald. Frowning, Drusilla glanced at the ticket in her hand. It simply read: Phantom.

The movie enraptured her as few things could. Darla had always claimed she'd had a short attention span. Angelus had often called her flighty, saying this with a fatherly grin gracing his features. Perhaps they were both right, but what ghosts said hardly mattered when she watched the screen.

Drusilla was enamored with the sights, the sounds, the color. The voices lifted her above the world and she felt as if she was flying - swept away by the beauty and majesty of a time long gone. The voices lifted her to the heights of Heaven and plunged her into the depths of Hell as only one man ever could.

She lived in the picture once; in a world of music, blood and violence. She saw herself in the screen dancing in a swirl of red and white. She saw Spike singing to her of love and lifetimes, his long hair perfectly combed, but curiously straightened. She saw Angelus, too. He was wearing an odd mask and he glared jealously at their happiness from the shadows. The snow fell around them. Its purity sullying them - binding the three in love and darkness with just a touch of hatred.

The picture ended and Drusilla found herself in a cemetery. She didn't remember walking there. She only knew that her daddy would be hiding in a crypt and that Spike would soon arrive to fight for her like he'd always done.

She came upon a statue, one of many. With his strong eyes and sharp cheekbones the statue looked like William, but he had the wings of an angel. Spike had always wanted to be like Angelus. He hadn't wanted the wings, though. He'd always had a fear of heights.

She remembered the duet between Raoul and Christine with more clarity then she should have. Raoul, Christine's lover, the Phantom's foil, he was so gentle, so like her William. The words escaped her mouth before she could stop them - the tune broken and out of place.

"Say you love me every waking moment, turn my head with talk of summertime... Say you need me with you, now and always... promise me that all you say is true that's all I ask of you..."

Drusilla stopped, knowing this was where her partner was supposed to sing. She stared at her silent companion. He was unmoved by her plea. She would have to try harder. Skipping over Raoul's part, she began the next verse.

"All I want is freedom, a world with no more night... and you always beside me to hold me and to hide me..."

Drusilla placed her hand on the statue's cheek, willing him to come alive and join her, willing her William to return from the dust and hold her like he had held her for centuries. She expected her touch to animate the cold stone and for him to take her hand in his so that they could dance. He did no such thing. Undeterred, she continued to sing.

"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime... say the word and I will follow you..."

Still no response.

Here, she became angry. "Why won't you answer me?" Drusilla screamed, her fists beating on the unyielding stone. "Why?" The white rock became red under her hands. Blood covered the statue's cheeks and ran down its neck. If he had been William he would have laughed and kissed her rage away.

Unbidden, her eyes began to water.

"One lifetime is not enough. You promised me forever, William." The tears fell onto the green grass below. Dimly, she wondered where the snow had gone. Then she remembered it never snowed where she was.

She turned to leave when she heard the voice - so rich and deep and so full of longing, she thought it was William's.

"Then say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime... Let me lead you from your solitude..."

The voice did not come from the statue, but from the very air. Did it come from the moon? The stars? The pixies who had commanded her here? As she danced around the tombstones, moving with an invisible partner, she decided it didn't matter.

And, as she twirled, laughing in the joy of madness, she and the wind finished their song.

"Anywhere you go let me go too... Love me - that's all I ask of you..."