The inmates are running the asylum.

[druci11a]

Drusilla cackled as she felt a wild energy fill her.  She was an old vampire, and powerful in her own right, but this took her beyond that, into another realm.  The chains that held her to everyone around her snapped and fell to her feet, leaving her a burning brand, standing in the middle of the road.

Vampires!  To me!  She shouted, the voice

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[whedon_bigbad]

"Here, your worship," a vampire came running up to her, carrying something wrapped in a linen cloth that looked older than Rome. "Just what you wanted," he added, trying to curry favor.

Drusilla only had eyes for the cloth. She reached out, and the vampire handed it over, reverently. She ripped the cloth free and sent it floating to the ground. Beneath it was a piece of dark wood, worn smooth at the top by human hands, over ages. It was whittled sharp at the other end, although the point was dulled after time and use.

The vampire smiled widely, proud of his prize, and pleasing his new mistress.

"The First Stake," she whispered, and a chill ran down his spine. She looks up at him, her eyes far away and dreamy. "Not really the first, of course, just the first one archived by those Watchers who watch the Watchmen. I wonder if they even knew they lost it."

The vampire doesn't say much, uncertain where this is going.

"Well, let's see how well it works, shall we?" She said, smiling and drawing a nail down his cheek.

"Great idea! I hear the Slayer isn't far--" The last of his words turn to dust as he does. Drusilla cackles in delight.

She looks at the stake. "What will you do when you taste the blood of your own?" She asks, then sticks out her tongue and catches the vampire's ashes on her tongue, like snowflakes.