He gazed up at her and noticed that something had captured her attention. She smiled in the direction of the doorway.
Spike turned to see what she found so amusing.
The Order of Aurelius had fallen to their knees, grovelling before she who was the vessel containing the most sacred of the great Old Ones.
"Look at them," Drusilla said with a giggle. "Scrabbling about in the dust like great ugly children playing marbles with eyeballs, like that time in Seville. What a night that was, with the music of broken bones and cadavers dancing flamenco. Can we go back someday?"
"Someday soon," he vowed. "But first, back to California. Back to where it all went wrong."
A grim shadow passed over his dead heart. Nothing good could come out of returning to Sunnydale. For her part, Drusilla was still gazing at the worshipful vampires who knelt across the room from her.
"It's like they've all lost something at the same time and are searching for it," she said.
He hugged her close and gave her a peck atop the head. "They haven't lost a thing, dumpling," Spike said. "In fact, I think they've found exactly what they're looking for."
