Max had been sleeping more often than usual lately - getting kidnapped and then going back in to rescue a friend who'd offered herself in your place took a lot out of a girl. But she was still a light sleeper, and when she heard someone speaking, she began to wake, herself.
She could immediately sense that something wasn't right - the covers around her felt too tight - and then she realized that she was inside a sleeping bad instead of her bed. Frowning, she unzipped the bag and sat up, looking around.
Her eyes settled first on the woman in front of her, who was looking at a giant stove. And then she took a good look at the room. Everything was made of candy and there was a sweet scent that hung in the air. Having had a childhood that was somewhat depraved, Max had never heard of the story of Hansel and Gretel, but there was something about the place - and the woman - that made her feel really uneasy.
"Who are you?" she asked Dru, her eyes narrowing suspiciously at her as she began to get out of the sleeping bag.
The Doctor didn't sleep. Well, he did, but so infrequently it was hardly sleep at all. But lately, with the lack of TARDIS energy in his system, he'd been positively exhausted more often than he wanted to admit. And now...well, and now, when he woke up it was as if he'd been transported into one of those strange, banana-daiquiri inspired dreams that he didn't like to talk much about. At least David Bowie appeared to be missing from this dream.
Candy, though. Lots of it. And other sweets, all over. He put his hand out to the wall and it came back slick with icing.
"Whose bones?" he asked, struggling to get to his feet. He was certain he'd spoken to both of the women here before, on the tablet, but he couldn't remember how. What were their names? Jessica? Erica? Names and faces were getting more and more muddled the longer he went without the TARDIS.
Drusilla answered the Doctor first. She knew the face, knew the voice, and wondered how the others would react to having a murderer in their midst. She didn't mind. He was interesting.
"The witch." Didn't he read his fairy stories? Everybody knew Hansel and Gretel. The witch in the woods and the trail of bread crumbs that led nowhere at all. Nobody thought it strange that it was the parents that had tried to kill the children first. They pinned it all on the old woman, as if it was her fault that two plump children had landed on her doormat.
She smiled, slow and sharp, at the woman who had spoken first. It was Daddy's little pet. She hadn't played with her herself, but she knew that Max had spent some time in her home. (Pretty girls weren't supposed to have boy's name. She'd have to fix that.)
Max frowned at the man who was now awake and getting to his feet - she recognized his voice, but wasn't aware that he'd been the one who set the bombs off (truthfully, she hadn't been paying a whole lot of attention to broadcasts at that time, but knew when to stay the hell inside). Once she figured it out, she'd probably be just as pissed at him as everyone else was, but right now she was more concerned about the woman who'd just introduced herself.
Angelus had only referred to her by nickname, but the way she was looking at Max and smiling gave her the idea that this was the woman he'd been talking about - the one he'd driven insane and that he'd intended to give Max to as a "present".
She backed away, towards one of the windows, and looked outside. The streets looked empty, even of Extras.
Comments 26
She could immediately sense that something wasn't right - the covers around her felt too tight - and then she realized that she was inside a sleeping bad instead of her bed. Frowning, she unzipped the bag and sat up, looking around.
Her eyes settled first on the woman in front of her, who was looking at a giant stove. And then she took a good look at the room. Everything was made of candy and there was a sweet scent that hung in the air. Having had a childhood that was somewhat depraved, Max had never heard of the story of Hansel and Gretel, but there was something about the place - and the woman - that made her feel really uneasy.
"Who are you?" she asked Dru, her eyes narrowing suspiciously at her as she began to get out of the sleeping bag.
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Candy, though. Lots of it. And other sweets, all over. He put his hand out to the wall and it came back slick with icing.
"Whose bones?" he asked, struggling to get to his feet. He was certain he'd spoken to both of the women here before, on the tablet, but he couldn't remember how. What were their names? Jessica? Erica? Names and faces were getting more and more muddled the longer he went without the TARDIS.
Reply
"The witch." Didn't he read his fairy stories? Everybody knew Hansel and Gretel. The witch in the woods and the trail of bread crumbs that led nowhere at all. Nobody thought it strange that it was the parents that had tried to kill the children first. They pinned it all on the old woman, as if it was her fault that two plump children had landed on her doormat.
She smiled, slow and sharp, at the woman who had spoken first. It was Daddy's little pet. She hadn't played with her herself, but she knew that Max had spent some time in her home. (Pretty girls weren't supposed to have boy's name. She'd have to fix that.)
"Drusilla."
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Angelus had only referred to her by nickname, but the way she was looking at Max and smiling gave her the idea that this was the woman he'd been talking about - the one he'd driven insane and that he'd intended to give Max to as a "present".
She backed away, towards one of the windows, and looked outside. The streets looked empty, even of Extras.
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