Work Text:
They were all together for Christmas for the fourth year in a row, making it somewhat of a custom. While the elders were out hunting up last minutes gifts and a feast, William lounged indolently on the settee and watched Drusilla puttering around the tree, straightening the ornaments and adjusting the strings of berries until everything was to her satisfaction. Beneath the tree sat gaily wrapped presents, and holly and ivy entwined across the mantle. It was all very festive and William had learned to accept the celebrations because Drusilla enjoyed them so much.
He'd do anything to make her happy.
Outside a dirty snow fell in Londontown making the gas lamps blur and hurrying carriages slide. A crash sounded and he smiled darkly, then rose to send the minions to 'help' any injured.
"Mayhap we'll have our own contribution to the Christmas feast, my William?"
"Hopefully something plump we can truss like a goose."
The minions returned with a well-dressed man, not too old or stringy, and William guided the shaken soul into the Library for a dose of brandy to give him some flavor.
Drusilla giggled and hummed 'God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen' as she danced upstairs to change into her holiday finery.
When Darla and Angelus returned, arms laden with stolen presents, their carriage bearing an unconscious family of mummy, daddy, and two little brats, they found William in the dining room, feet up on the table sullying the fine linen cloth, a naked man bound and gagged with an apple, laying in the middle of the table, fat belly resting on their best silver platter.
Darla smiled. "Well, looks like we really will feast tonight." She snapped her fingers at the minions, sending them scurrying outside for their own contributions.
"Get your feet down, boy."
Grinning at his sire, William drew deeply on one of the fat man's cigars and swung his feet off the table to bounce to his feet. "Dru's chomping at the bit to open her presents."
Glaring at his eldest, Angelus turned an indulgent smile on his daughter who peeked in the doorway, eyes wide and hopeful. "Let me just play St. Nicholas and put these beneath the tree." As he went to do that, the minions entered the house toting the rest of dinner.
"Season those well. We'll eat the children first. They should be tender enough," Darla directed.
William took Drusilla's arm and let her lead him on quick feet into the parlor where the tree was now lit with dozens of candles. Angelus caught his sire beneath a sprig of mistletoe and kissed her with the promise of carnal delights to come, and Drusilla began to hand out gifts, squealing over each one that bore her name.
William waited patiently for her to join him on the couch, his mind wandering to the sprig of mistletoe he planned to hand around his cock later that night in hopes that Drusilla would decide to kiss him there.
End