Invitations: Invitations Lost In The Mail
by Brynhild
Darla ran while Buffy fought Dawn. She broke into a car, collecting Dru on the way.

"Spike isn't mine anymore. He's taken root like weeds and wildflowers." Dru moped.

"I know, dear." Darla consoled, looking for somewhere to hide during the day.

Dru eyed her grandmotherdaughter. "You've been naughty. Licked the icing off the cake. Now the Slayer won't fall."

"Fall? You mean die?"

“Same difference,” Dru giggled, rhyming. "Fall. Die. Lightning strikes the castle tower, people watch and cry." She shrugged. "Won't happen now, maybe later. Key's gone missing but still exists."

Darla tuned out the rambling and drove.


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