"Red like satin, red like blood, red like candy - Spike, may I have it, please?" Drusilla wheedled as she spun around, dancing through the dust on the floor, wrapping her arms about her body as she twirled.
"Red like apples and twinkling lights, red like rubies - may I? May I? May I?" She danced ahead and pulled down the covers on the ornate bed, making a nest.
"Enough, petal," Spike said softly, easing his burden onto the sheets. "You shall have what you need in a moment."
Drusilla giggled and spun away, stopping abruptly in front of the shelf that held her dolls. She began chattering to them as Spike stripped off his duster and flung it over the red velvet-upholstered chair. He removed his shirts and kicked off his boots before sitting on the edge of the bed.
He looked down at the body there, eyes tracing fine features and silken hair, hands reaching out to strip off clothing and toss it onto the floor. The bed sank slightly as Dru climbed up on the other side, her silk slip making slithery noises against the sheets. She dipped a finger into the blood pooling in the hollow of the pale throat.
"Tastes like wine, like candy, like the red, red moon," she crooned, licking up each drop that trailed down from nail to palm.
"Sweet Red," Spike answered, tilting Willow's neck toward her, offering Drusilla the first taste.