Once Upon a Midnight Dreary by D.M. Evans

"You have 'problem' face," Faith said, sauntering into Angel's office. It was just a little past noon but she hadn't expected to see him there. She liked her vampires to be asleep in the daylight hours. That helped things to make sense.

"I think one of Spike's decorations has gone missing," Angel said, reclining back in his chair, surveying the North Pole chaos.

"How can you tell?" Faith perched on the desk.

"I can tell." Angel's voice brooked no doubt.

"Some gifts have appeared under the tree." Faith jerked a thumb at the silver tinsel tree.

"Fred, who was muttering ominously."

Faith cocked an eyebrow. "Fred? Ominous?"

"She kept saying this would never do. There's going to be a real tree in my suite. I can feel it. It doesn't matter how many locks I put on the door, there'll be a tree with gifts blocking the TV," Angel moaned, a very put-upon expression on his face.

"Uh-huh," Faith said, trying not to smirk. "I feel your pain. Since when did you start watching TV?"

He eyed her sourly. "It's not really right, all this Christmas cheer, at least not where I'm concerned, or Spike."

Faith bobbed her head. "I could see how it wouldn't be a big vamp holiday."

"Not really." Angel shrugged. "Oh, Dru and Darla liked it well enough or at least used it to extort gifts from me and Spike."

"I can totally see you two in competition to prove yourselves to your women," Faith said and Angel snorted.

"No contest, luv. I always beat him, no matter what," Spike said ambling in, looking fresh from bed. His hair was curling and unruly. Faith wasn't used to seeing him like that. Even more odd was the red smudge on his forehead. She was pretty sure it was lipstick.

"She was talking about which of us was the biggest idiot." Angel smirked.

"Where's my skaters go?" Spike asked, tossing himself into a chair after giving Angel the two-fingered salute.

"Told you something was missing," Angel said, cocking an eyebrow at Faith who rolled her eyes.

"Gets weirder, Peaches." Spike stretched. "I had the strangest dream. I dreamt someone was hand feeding me Slayer's blood. I could still taste it when I woke up." Spike's head lolled so he could look at Faith and it was a long, licentious look. "You were there, Faith."

She curled her lip at him. "And only in your dreams. But that doesn't explain the lipstick on your forehead."

Spike sat upright, shock on his gaunt face. "What?

Angel tapped his own forehead to indicate the spot. "I was afraid to ask about it."

"I wasn't with anyone." Spike tensed, his eyes wide.

"Damn." Faith rolled off the desk top.

"Are you sure this big nasty thing they sent you to help with is after me, Faith?" Angel asked.

"We thought so but maybe it was Spike." Faith dug her cellular out of her pocket. "The seer just saw a vampire with a soul and we all assumed it was you, Angel. It's kinda easy to forget Spike's a copycat."

"Hey!" Spike huffed. He pointed at Angel. "Rough draft,"û then tapped his own chest. "Masterpiece."

"A masterpiece of what? Someone who doesn't even wake up when an intruder kisses him on the head?" Angel grumbled.

"There was something..." Spike rubbed his forehead clean. "I could have sworn there was a hint of Dru's perfume in my room. I kinda thought I smelled it when I came into your office, too."

Angel scrubbed a hand through his hair, feeling it was getting a little long. "So did I...it isn't possible."

"Why not? She's alive, right?" Faith asked.

"There are so many anti-demon and vampire-sensing spells on this place, it's scary," Angel said.

"Our Dru knows how to do magic of her own," Spike replied. "But if she was here, why leave me a kiss and steal a Christmas decoration?"

Angel shrugged. "Spike, I gave up on Dru making sense a century ago. But if it was her, she had a reason for everything she did."

"Half the fun with Dru is figuring out if there's way to relate her reason to the rest of the world." Spike got up and started winding all the musical decorations up.

"Spike, don't you dare," Angel warned.

"Helps me think."

"You'll run out of decorations before anything sparks in that empty skull," Angel shot back.

"Is that what passes for wit around here, plonker?" Spike asked, going out into the hall and pushed in more boxes. "I've got plenty of ammunition."

"Spike, where did you get all this garbage?" Angel moaned as Faith dialed out on her phone.

"I have my ways. Do those bloody phones actually sound good reaching half way around the world?" Spike nodded at Faith as he opened the top box, pulling out more icicles for the tree.

Faith shrugged. "It's Giles-Willow magic powered. Clear as a bell and free, too, but I'm not supposed to mention tha...oh, hi Giles. Wasn't expecting you but you're better than Buffy for this anyhow. Do we know if the seer actually saw Angel or just a souled vampire because we think Dru paid Spike a visit last night. I can't remember the exact words," Faith said, watching Angel get between Spike and the tree. The taller vampire had silver icicles all over his head. "Do you want to talk to one of them? Right now they're mostly throwing Christmas ornaments at each other...no, sadly I'm not kidding. But it's fun to watch, sort of like a train wreck, you know. Uh-huh, okay, Angel, Giles wants to speak to you."

She handed over the phone and Spike took advantage of Angel's distraction by loading up the tree. Helping Spike, Faith started by taking a large tree skirt from the box and moving all the gifts so she could get the gaudy red velvet, gold trimmed and red crystal encrusted piece of cloth under the tree. Faith listened to Angel doing little more than grunting a few affirmations into the phone before giving Giles the short version of what had happened over night. As Spike plugged in bells that played Christmas carols over the window, Angel gave the phone back to Faith.

"Giles needs to speak to you," he said then went over and started crushing Spike against the window, trying to wrest the electrical plug for the bells from his hands.

"Hey, if you two break that necro-glass, you both fry," Faith reminded them. "Sorry about that Giles, go on. Uh-huh, nothing more than that? Okay, but do we really think I'm needed here? If it is Dru, surely Angel and Spike can handle her. No, that's not it. I kinda want to spend Christmas here. Okay, I'll let them know. Bye." Faith looked at the vampires. "They want me to stay."

"Giles said the seer saw me specifically," Angel guessed.

"I guess so. It's hard to hear over all the noise in here," Faith leveled a glare at Spike. "Those Christmas carols are going to drive someone to kill."

Spike unplugged the bells, grinning "Bloody torture, they are. It's what I'm counting on." Spike laughed.

"I'm glad that amuses you," Angel said, wryly.

"No, I was just thinking, remember those carols we made up?" Spike asked.

"You made up Christmas carols?" Faith asked in disbelief.

"To amuse Dru," Spike said then sang, "On the first day ofû Christmas, my true love ate with me, the doorman at the Hotel Coventry." He gestured at Angel. "You remember this. We did it for all twelve days. On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love ate with me...twelve bums a-sleeping, eleven lovers romancing, ten shoppers shopping, nine drunks a'staggerin', eight skaters skating, seven waiters waiting, six preachers praying,û five whores whoring, four altar boys, three French men, two toddlers toddling and the doorman at the Hotel Coventry."

Angel wagged his head as Faith stared at them eyes wide, lips forming into an 'O.' "I had forgotten about that. You came up with that one. I think mine was, Silent night, Bloody night. All is calm, All is bright. Round yon shopkeep, we circle in wait..."

"Ouch, your singing has gotten worse, Peaches. How is that possible?" Spike rubbed his ear.

"You are joking about these songs, right?" Faith shuddered. "No, I know you're not. Okay, you do realize how sick that is, right?"

Angel gave her a sheepish look. "No souls then."

"It's funny when you're a vampire," Spike assured her. "So what did ol' Rupert have to say?"

"That the seer insists I need to be here and that it's Angel in trouble." Faith gave them another disgusted look. "So, I guess that means you two can put your heads together and figure out what Dru might be up to while I hit the streets and see if I can find out if anyone knows about her being back in town, then I go after her and that's that."

Spike shook his head. "You don't know our Dru, luv. You shouldn't be going up against her alone."

"Hello, Slayer, remember?" Faith slung her hair back, a cocky cant touching her lips.

"Spike's right, Faith. Dru isn't an ordinary vampire," Angel said. "She's the one who killed your predecessor, the one who made you a Slayer. And it was no muss, no fuss, Kendra didn't even raise a hand to her."

"Maybe she wasn't very good at her job," Faith countered.

"Maybe but Dru can get into your head, make your will hers. She can make you see things that she wants you to see, make you do what she wants you to," Spike said, with obvious pride.

"And she's a seer," Angel added. "Not to mention insane."

Faith frowned. "Okay, first order of business then is for you two to tell me everything I need to know about Dru. Could she really have gotten in here? What did she feed Spike in his sleep? And what the hell does she want?"

"We'd better go up to my suite and get comfortable," Angel said. "This is going to take a while."

Connor scrubbed hard at his skin, feeling dirtier than mere hot water and soap could clean. He had woken up to the sonorous sounds of Brian snoring. That wasn't unusual. What was, was the fact Connor was asleep, fully clothed, his feet on his pillow and Drusilla nowhere to be seen. He hoped she had just gone to the rest room but it quickly became clear she had left in the middle of the night.

He was humiliated. His friends knew he had left with a girl but they might not expect her to spend the whole night. His embarrassment stemmed from the fact he had fallen asleep on her. Worse, when he stretched and went to get up, he felt his boxers sticking to him. A trip to the communal showers confirmed his worst fear; he hadn't even got his gun out of his pants before it went off. He ran back to his room, grabbed up all his bedding, some other clothes, his bath robe and the laundry detergent.û With the wash started, he got his bath stuff, some pants, headed for the showers and started scrubbing.

When he first moved into the dorm, the guys used to razz him about his girlie soaps but within a month they were all asking him to get them some. His mom had a good little business making her own soaps. His favorite was her jasmine and honey one. He never could figure out why since it was such a feminine scent. He probably should stick to the pine ones his roomies liked. But today even the scent of jasmine couldn't calm him.

'No wonder she left. Who wants a guy who's not only Quickdraw McGraw, he passes out on her too.' That thought kept whirling through his mind. He only hoped his friends didn't guess about his little problem. He couldn't think of why they would. This hadn't happened to him since that time when he was a sophomore and Ms. Piazza, the drama teacher, kept trying to teach him how to move on stage. He would have been able to move just fine if she hadn't been behind him trying to move him like a giant doll.

Finally dragging out of the shower, Connor decided he wasn't going to mention any specifics about last night upon pain of death as he toweled off. The room spun a little as he did so. He must be starving to be this light headed. He tried to find a sink that wasn't disgusting so he could brush his teeth. He pitied the custodial crew for the dorm. The kids tended to live like animals. Before brushing, he gave his face a once over to see if shaving would actually be necessary. He grew an embarrassingly poor beard. Connor spotted the giant hickie on his neck. Well, at least he had had some fun before passing out. However, his cross was gone. He never took it off and he hadn't seen it in his bedding. Losing his cross bothered him.

Squeezing out a glob of whitening toothpaste onto the brush, he wondered what had gotten him so hammered. Yes, he had had some beers and a little pot but usually he handled it a lot better. Maybe she had drugged him but did girls actually put Rohypnol into boys' drinks? Date rape drugs were more of a guy thing, a really disgusting thing. Connor felt any guy who felt the need to remove a woman's right to choose needed to be strung up and used as a piÀata. He had heard guys joking about getting themselves a sex slave but he had never found anything funny about it.

'You just survived your first round of college finals. You're exhausted. That's why you passed out, nothing more sinister than that,' he mentally reassured himself as he headed back for his room. By the time he got there, the rest of his buddies were more or less awake. He hung up his towel and found a polo shirt that would show off his hickie like a badge of honor.

"Lose your girl already?" Damien asked from his desk. He was obviously giving his screenplay one last going over.

"She couldn't stay," Connor grunted, taking down a fresh set of sheets.

"She stayed long enough." Brian's eyes glinted from where he lay on his rumpled bed. He jerked a thumb at the sheet. Connor rolled his eyes but surreptitiously tugged at his collar to show off the love bite more. "You know that gives me an idea for my final poem. Thank you." Brian got up. "The saga of the boy who was found passed out alone, wrong end up on his bed."

"Fuck you, Brian," Connor said good-naturedly, expecting them to notice his predicament, no matter how drunk they were when they stumbled in.

"Any time, blue eyes." Brian blew him a kiss.

"You wish." Connor nearly knocked his autographed picture of Allison Mack off the wall by his bed in his slap-dash efforts to make it. He straightened her out. He was so glad Brian was a Smallville fan, too, so he wasn't alone in wanting it on. Of course, Brian was busy watching Tom Welling, which left the Allison drooling all to Connor. Brian had tried to fake not being gay when they first moved in but couldn't quite pull it off. Luckily, his roommates where open minded enough not to be threatened by it. Damien was in the theater and used to being friends with gay men. Connor had no troubles with that sort of thing. He thought maybe Javier was uncomfortable but Brian was a good guy and they all trusted him not to put moves on them.

"Blue eyes, if I were wishing, you'd be taller, dark haired, manly and have that Welling grin," Brian shot back.

"Lucky for him, he's short, scrawny and kinda girlie looking then," Damien said.

"Bite me," Connor said, looking around to see if he had put his cross somewhere and been too drunk to remember.

Javier flipped the covers back off his head. "Could you three shut the fuck up? I'm trying to sleep off a hangover here."

Connor waved him off. "Anyone see my cross? I can't find it."

"Haven't seen it," Brian said, scribbling frantically on a pad of paper. He always hand wrote before putting things on computer. Connor hoped Brian seriously wasn't mocking him in poem form.

"Isn't that thing welded to your neck, Irish?" Javier asked.

"Usually. Damn, I hope the clasp didn't break. I'd hate to lose it." Connor pulled his shoes out from under the bed. "Anyone up for breakfast?"

Damien shook his head. "Got to turn this in in twenty minutes." He tapped the computer screen.

"I'm still not done with my poems," Brian replied.

"Do I look alive?" Javier pulled the covers over his head again.

"So that's no's all around." Connor grabbed up his skateboard. "Good luck with the creative stuff there, guys."

Connor skate boarded through campus deciding to head for the on-campus Starbucks. That was the thing about having parents who were richer than Croesus, he could drop nearly ten dollars on a double, double cappuccino and a huge hunk of caramel and chocolate brownie without flinching. His parents' money usually meant he got to go on really cool vacations, too. He wished he could have gone on vacation in Canada with his family. He loved snowboarding. Well, they'd probably hit Colorado before classes started again.

His parents hated him snowboarding. His father found all athletics to be a waste of time all the while refusing to see his skiing and golfing as sports in the way he meant it. Connor had always wanted to play some kind of sport but Dad wouldn't let him. Connor managed to get a skateboard in high school since that was transportation and not a sport. It took a while for them to catch on - him putting up a Tony Hawk poster in his room actually - that he had taken skateboarding to extremes. Connor loved skateboarding parks. He's probably head for one today and risk life and limb showing off. He translated that skill on a board to the snow whenever he got the chance.

Connor caught a glimpse of a girl at the foot of the stairs that led from the library to the student union where he was heading. She was totally hot, a trim, tanned body, walnut hair. Unlike his brunette beauty last night, there was nothing fragile about this chick. She all but oozed leather and discipline. Hormones replaced rational thought and Connor hopped his skateboard onto the railing of the steps. Gliding down them, riding tight, he knew she was looking at him because he couldn't stop looking at her. It nearly cost him. He botched the landing and thought he was going to bite it hard but manage to leap off the board as it flipped then landed back on it whirling to a halt like he had meant to do it. He grinned at her then pouted as she rolled her eyes. 'Girl, that was cool.'

"Not too many signs of life around here," she said.

Connor shrugged. "Last day of finals.û Lots of kids have already gone home for the holidays."

She made a face. "It's the wrong time of day to find who I'm looking for anyway but they said she was in the area."

Connor's eyes narrowed. "You a cop?"

"Uh, no, private eye," she said, unconvincingly. "There'll be parties tonight?"

Connor nodded. "Yeah sure. I'm going for coffee and breakfast. Want some?"

"Breakfast? It's two in the afternoon." She pushed her dark hair back. "Sure, why not?"

He tucked his board under his arm and led the way. "I'm Connor, by the way."

"Faith." She smiled. "So, you've got a test today then?"

Connor shook his head. "I'm done. I'm just here for the partying."

Faith laughed. "I hear that."

"So who're you looking for? A runaway kid or something?"

"She's no kid," Faith said. "I'll tell you over coffee."

"Fair enough."

Connor was disappointed that they didn't have any caramel brownies but he got a hunk of cheesecake and seeing Faith eyeing up a slice of pecan pie bought it for her. The coffee shop was nearly empty so they found the best seat in the house, soft cushiony couches in a stream of sunlight.

"Is she a criminal?" he asked.

Faith nodded. "Yeah, she is and thanks for the eats by the way."

"My pleasure." He grinned. "What's she done?"

"Killed someone," Faith said, flatly.

Connor's face went grim. "Shouldn't be the police be looking for her?"

"They are. We were hired by one of her victims' families to help find her," Faith replied then forked in a huge bite of pecan pie.

"You have a business card or something?" Connor asked, sounding suspicious.

Faith dug one out. "Don't trust me?"

"Giving information to strangers can be risky," Connor said, peering at the card. He slipped it into his pocket. "What's she look like?"

"Young, really skinny, dark brown hair, blue eyes, kinda weird." Faith's eyes bore into his.

Connor felt like he was being tested but he didn't care. "That describes half the campus," he said, thinking it sounded like his girl from last night.

"We're still waiting on a fax of her photograph," Faith said. "Which really would help speed things up."

"What's her name?" Connor asked then the strains of 'Kryptonite' by Three Doors Down started singing in his pocket. He shot Faith an embarrassed look. "Sorry." He answered the phone and rolled his eyes. "Oh, hi Mom, no, you didn't wake me. I'm at Starbucks with Faith." He rolled his eyes at the girl in question and covered the phone's mouthpiece. "This won't take long. No Mom, that's not one of my roommates. I wouldn't be that lucky. The dorm's co-ed, not my room. Yes, I know you don't like that idea. No, it didn't effect my grades. Well, no, I just finished my finals yesterday so I don't have my grades yet but I know I'm not failing. Yes, Mom, I know all about studying hard 'cause pre-med's hard....yeah, I know that, too. Look Mom, I have to go. You and Dad go have fun. Slap my sisters for me. Yeah Mom, see you then."

"Your parents aren't waiting for you in the parking lot now that classes are done?" Faith grinned at him.

"They're in Canada on a ski trip. I couldn't make it." Connor sighed. "But she makes sure to call me and tell me how much fun I'm missing every day."

"Pre-med?" Faith looked him over. "You don't look pre-med, then again you don't look old enough to be out of junior high."

He scowled, rubbing a hand over his slightly stubbly chin. "I'm almost nineteen. And my parents think I'm pre-med. I want to be a conservationist but Dad says majoring in ecology is majoring in poverty," Connor said then his phone rang again. He gave it the evil eye but answered it any how. "Javier? What do you want, man? I'm busy." Connor gave Faith a look that told anyone in a hundred yard radius the kind of busy he wanted to be with her. "You did what? Man, Damien is gonna kill you. Why would you play with that? Yeah, I know how to fix it but that's not the point...okay, okay, I'll be right there." Connor got up. "Sorry about this. If I don't go fix this, one roommate will kill the other and I can't have that on my conscience. Tell you what, go to the Belly Up To bar tonight. That's where the action will be. If your fugitive is here, that's the place to look since you were asking about parties. I'm assuming she's a party girl."

"Thanks."

Connor smiled and added, "Hope to see you there."

"You just might."

Happy with that, a little something to look forward to since he hadn't bothered to get Dru's number last night, Connor skate boarded back for his dorm. Only when he was half way across campus did he remember that he hadn't gotten the killer's name.

Dru knew she didn't have much time. The poinSettiais she had put around her bed told her one of the naughty Slayers was looking for her. Not the awful one who had stolen her boys, no,û it was the one she had made with her own hands.

Dru knew she had to work quickly. It wouldn't take much to snare Little Brother. He suffered the affliction of all boys his age; obeying too many masters and the littlest master shouted the loudest. Her flowers had told he that Little Brother would be here displaying himself in the mating rituals popular among younger prey.

When she finally saw him in the crowd, she realized she had been wrong. He was sitting with his friends watching the girls dance instead of tossing themselves about to the beat with them. He seemed to be looking for someone in particular with the way his eyes kept constant watch. Drusilla smiled soft like rain. Little Brother had missed her and was hoping to see her called in from the shadows. She headed for him, slipping through the crowd with practiced ease.

Little Brother looked shocked, seeing her before him. The open mouthed, wide-eyed look stripped years away from him. No, he was too young, too small to be on his own. Dru would have to ask the moon if she could adopt him.

"Uh, hi Dru," he stammered out.

She ran her fingers along his cheek, beckoning him to follow her with the other hand. There was no time to play here as much as she might like to. Dru so loved to dance. She could all but feel the Slayer approaching. Dru's will stabbed into his mind and wrapped around it like a garden spider's web. He had a very busy mind, surprising her. There was a hint of magic. She left him just a little of his own will so he wouldn't seem odd to his friends.

"Hey, she didn't run screaming after you took her home. Look like I lost that bet." One of his friends's snorted.

"If that detective chick shows, we'll keep her warm for you," another youth said, and Dru pouted, wondering if Little Brother had been hoping for another flower to dip his nose into.

"She doesn't exist. What would a tough detective chick want with scrawny boy?" Little Brother's playwright friend lobbed that like a grenade.

Dru watched with vague amusement as Little Brother gave his friends the finger. "She wouldn't have had breakfast with me unless she liked what she saw."

"Keep telling yourself that. She was probably getting info to turn you into the cops," his dark-haired friend said.

"Lucky us, we finished our stash before coming here just in case Irish get caught up in a raid," the other one added, sloshing his beer as the playwright elbowed him with a 'shush.'

"We're getting Connor in trouble with his girl," the playwright observed.

"Let's go somewhere, Dru," Little Brother said. "Where the company is better."

Dru smiled. She hadn't even tweaked his mind to make him say that. She could get drunk off the arousal of all the boys. She could pretend it was all for her. Both Daddy and Grandmummy had taught her arrogance and greed. She wondered again about the lady detective, wondering what she might want with Little Brother. Dru took Little Brother's hand and pulled him through the bar to the cool outdoors. Dru paused, testing the air. The Slayer was probably close.

"What would you like to do, Dru?" he asked. "Go back in and dance a little? Those guys were just kidding you. The detective wanted to talk to me about some woman who's supposed to be in the area, nothing more. We could go somewhere quieter if you want. It's still a little chilly to go to the beach, which is a shame."

"Home," Dru said simply, watching his nostrils flare. She could practically let him out from under her thrall. All his blood was already going where it did him the least amount of good for thinking. Still, that was fine by her.

"Uh, sure. Those guys won't be coming home any time soon."

Dru let him lead even though she knew the way. She was surprised at his leisurely pace. He was trying to make it a romantic stroll under the stars but Dru knew he was desperate to get back to his room and out of his clothing.

She urged him to go a little faster. She wanted his blood. The room smelled more strongly this time of that magical herb. Her Spike had liked it so back in the days when flowers ruled, had liked feeding off those who smoked it. Dru had liked it, too. Little Brother would taste extra special tonight. She knew he was well under its influence but his mouth only tasted a little like alcohol when she kissed him gently.

It took all her strength not to toss him down and drink. She had to admit it was nice to be kissed like this. It had been a long time since she had last been kissed when she had tried to woo back Spike. Before that it was the chaos demon who tasted like mucus. Little Brother tasted like beer and sweet herbs.

Curious, she took his shirt off, her fingers trailing over his body. Pale and lean, he resembled her Spike more than he did their daddy. She could see his pulse throbbing in his neck, thumping on the insides of his biceps. Her mouth watered at the thought of tasting him again. Other parts of her were cool and slick as ice.

She let him explore her body as she played with the golden-brown fluff leading from his naval down to parts of him that were demanding attention. His pants slid off easily with no hips to slow their progress.

"You're cold," he said, his lips leaving her chest. "Want me to turn the heat up?"

She pushed him back on the bed, straddling him. She tapped his forehead and his big blue eyes lost focus. "Enjoy, Little Brother," she said then picked the vein that pleased her the most.

Dru finished rearranging her clothes and capped off the tears' jar - just another little taste for Spike and maybe one for Daddy. As she got up to go, two of his friends came home, the playwright and one of the ones she didn't know.

"Oops sorry," the one she didn't know said, stumbling for his bed.

"Irish forgot to put the signal on the door," the playwright added, jabbing a finger at the nude body of his friend. "Looks like he wasn't good for much before passing out. Loser."

Dru wiped a finger along the oozing vein she had opened then licked her digit. "Good enough." She lay back against Little Brother and waited for the other boys to settle down.

She needed to adopt Little Brother but that wouldn't happen with his friends in the way, not unless they were all family. They went to sleep quickly, not even making a fuss as she drained their lives.

Their remaining friend came home as she was finishing the others. "Guys, he was so not my type after all," he moaned then froze seeing Dru sitting with the playwright. "Oh, it's going to be this type of party. This is just not my night."

"You'll like this party," Dru promised and was on him before he could move.

Part Three