Title: One Fateful Night
Author:
angelspike69
Pairing:
Angelus/William
Rating:
NC17
Summary:
Angelus sees William at a party. He plans at first to disarm him
with poetry and flowers, but the vampire discovers that the young poet
has become much more than prey. He has become his obsession.
Spoilers:
None. This takes place pre-series.
Disclaimers:
In no way do I own any of the characters in this story, Joss
does. I just like taking them out to place with each other.
Warnings:
This fic contains m/m slash. If that bothers you, then I suggest
you don't read.
Author
Note #1: This story was written for the
Loving Angel Valentines' Day Ficathon for ZinnyDark. Zinny, I
hope I gave you what you wanted. She requested the
following: Pairing Requested
- Angelus/William; Personas Requested
- Angelus a vamp, William a human... for the beginning, at least; Story Timeline - Past, and as
within-cannon as possible, for what I want; Three things you would like in your fic
- William being turned, Angelus as the seducer, roses; Two things you would prefer not to see
- non-con, heavy BDSM; Tone -
Darkly Romantic, if that makes any sense; Rating Preference - NC-17, but
whatever works
Author
Note #2: This is the first time I've
attempted to write Angelus. I know he was an evil, sadistic
killer, but I wanted to show a different side to him, while trying not
to change the character. There was more to him than that. I
tried to stay within canon as much as I could, but tweaked it to suit
my purposes, in particular certain scenes from The Prodigal and Fool
for Love. For me, Angelus sired William, not Dru.
Author
Note #3: I have to send a huge shout out
to my beta Lori, whose help was essential to me completing this
fic. Besides editing the sections I sent to her and filling in
some parts that were lacking, her research was what a made all the
difference. I'd also thank Jenn, Foxhunt2blue, Pet, Belle, and
JinxWatcher for their praise and encouragement.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Chapter 1
"Our
wills and fates do so contrary run
That our devices still are
overthrown."
(Hamlet 3.2213-14)
Standing in a darkened corner of the elegant room, Angelus leisurely
scanned the gathering looking for tonight's victim. He loved
mingling amongst the rich, conversing with them, all the while laughing
at them - clueless pompous fools.
While chatting politely with one of the many simpering females in
attendance tonight, he surveyed the room. His eyes stopped when
he spotted him – there on the burgundy settee on the other side of the
room -- a young man, head bent in concentration while he wrote in what
looked like a journal. Angelus took in the light brown hair that
curled on the ends – the hair long enough to wrap around his
fingers. The young man paused, putting the end of the pen in his
mouth, as if thinking. When he looked up with the pen still in
his mouth, Angelus saw that wire-framed glasses were perched
precariously on the end of his aquiline nose. With his index
finger, he pushed the thin frames back up to the bridge of his
nose. He glanced around the room nervously, as if sensing that
someone was watching him. Angelus inhaled an unneeded breath when
the young man looked up.
The vampire was instantly struck by the man before him -- sharply
pronounced cheekbones, ice-blue eyes and...something,
something...Angelus sniffed the air again -- there it was...yes,
innocence. As the young gentleman turned his attention back to
his journal, Angelus smiled wickedly. He knew he'd found what he
had been looking for -- not a victim, but prey.
Keeping his attention on the man across the room Angelus absently made
his excuses to the girl hanging on his arm and sauntered across the
room. He had to get a closer look. Smiling politely at the
females trying to get his attention, he brushed them off and continued
across the room never taking his eyes off of his target.
Casually stepping up to the group that was congregated near the young
man, Angelus easily joined in the conversation. Keeping an ear on
the chatter around him, he surreptitiously kept an eye on his
target. Now that he was close, he could really see the man's
beauty. If he had a breath, he was sure the sight of this boy
would have taken it away. He looked up again and Angelus quickly
averted his gaze, turning his attention back to the group.
Glancing out the corner of his eye, he saw that the boy had gone back
to his scribbling. He was curious as to what the callow wordsmith
was writing so diligently, but he didn't want to make his presence
known to the boy just yet. There was no fun in that, and he liked
to have his fun.
He was hoping that someone would engage the man in conversation, but
everyone was ignoring him. His target was close enough to hear
the dialogue, but he didn't seem to have any interest in joining.
The others didn't seem interested in engaging the young man in their
tedious conversation either. He was about to say something, when
he saw a dark-haired man approach the figure on the couch.
"William, what are you doing? Are you writing in that silly
journal of yours again?"
"Go away Percy. It's none of your affair." William turned
his back, trying to ignore the man standing there. "Just leave me
be."
Angelus watched as Percy laughed, reaching down to grab the
journal. William tried to stop him, but wasn't quick
enough. He looked up when Percy started flipping through the
pages of the journal, skimming the passages he wrote. The others
turned towards Percy, interested in what he was reading.
"Why our William fancies himself a poet." Percy shared with the
group.
"Please, give it back to me Percy." William reached up futilely,
trying to grab the journal. Percy held it up just out of his
reach.
"Come on Percy, share with us," one of the men in the group asked.
"Okay, let's see if I can find a good one." Percy said as he
thumbed through the pages. "Here we go..."
"My
soul is wrapped in harsh repose,
midnight descends in raven-colored
clothes,
but soft...behold!
A sunlight beam
cutting a swath of glimmering gleam.
My heart expands,
'tis grown a bulge in it,
inspired by your beauty...
effulgent."
The group was snickering as Percy read the words. Angelus watched
the young man as he turned red in embarrassment. By the time the
poem was read, the group was laughing uproariously. William stood
and grabbed the book from Percy.
Angelus saw the humiliation etched on the young man's face; he also
felt the anger radiating off the lean body. The vampire stood
there watching the exchange and wondering how the boy would handle the
situation.
"Really William, that was quite...." One of the women paused to think
up
a word, "...dreadful."
With the book back in his possession, Angelus watched as William walked
away with his head hung low. Not paying attention, he kept
bumping into the other guests as he strode out of the room.
The group tittered amongst themselves discussing William and his
appalling attempts at writing poetry. Angelus took his leave from
the fools and followed William. When he entered the foyer, he saw
the boy walking out of the house.
Grabbing his coat, he followed the embarrassed man. Once outside,
Angelus walked to the street and paused looking left, then right.
There he is. Angelus
turned in the direction William was walking. He caught up to him
quickly, but made sure to keep enough of a distance so as to not be
found out. As he followed, he watched him. William paused
every now and then, looking behind him but seeing nothing, he'd
continue on his way.
As Angelus continued to shadow William, he smiled as he took him
in. The young man was of medium height. Like the front, his
hair in the back curled on the ends, just long enough to reach the top
of his collar. Angelus moved his eyes downward, taking in the
lean hips and the roundness of his ass. The vampire licked his
lips in anticipation. This one
won't be a quick hunt and feed. No, not at all. He
found himself intrigued enough with the young man to want to draw it
out. It had to be the innocence he had scented earlier -- he
could never resist that. Getting the innocent ones to succumb was
what he enjoyed most. He loved the prim and proper ones.
Passion resided in the most inhibited human. In his 100 plus
years as a vampire, he'd discovered that it was the demure ones that
were the most wicked of all. They just needed assistance in
bringing out their lust. A plan started forming his mind – a ripe
and delicious plan for the seduction of William.
Angelus stopped when he noticed William had turned toward a
house. The door opened and an older woman greeted William with a
smile.
"Mother..." he greeted the older woman, giving her a kiss on the cheek
as
he entered the house.
Noting the address, Angelus turned around and disappeared into the
night. He found a flower seller still at work. Grabbing the
woman, he stopped her scream with his large hand and drained her.
Propping her against the small cart, he helped himself to a bunch of
fresh daffodils, and then he returned to his own empty house.
Darla and Drusilla had not yet returned from their card party, so he
sat at the desk in the study and wrote quickly on a piece of fine
vellum
paper. Just before dawn, he left the house and hailed a young boy
waiting outside a pub. He gave him money with instructions to
deliver it to William's house and promised him another penny if he
returned quickly. Angelus hid in a doorway, glancing at the
sky. He saw the boy running in the distance and stepped back out
onto the street. He thought about feeding from the child,
but decided against it. He was probably waiting for his pa to
stagger out of the tavern so he could help him home.
The young boy returned shortly, "I left it at the door, sir, like you
said. I pressed the bell then ran away. I don't know if
anyone opened the door."
Angelus gave him the promised penny and walked quickly to reach his
house before dawn broke.
****************************************
William heard the knock on the door and went to see who was calling at
this time of the night. It was quite late for visiting, not that
anyone ever called on him.
He opened the door and saw that no one was there. Stepping out
onto the porch, he stared into the darkness. Seeing no one, he
shrugged his shoulders and turned to go back inside. As he did,
he tripped over something lying just outside the door and had to grab
the doorframe to catch his balance. Looking down, he saw an
envelope and a bouquet of daffodils. Bending down, he picked up
both items and looked once more towards the street before closing the
door.
Thinking they were for his mother, he laid them on the dark cherry
table in the entryway. As he placed them on the tabletop, he saw
his name elegantly written on the envelope, not his mother's.
With confusion marring his brow, William picked the items up again and
carried them into the sitting room. Wondering who could have sent
them, William sat down. Looking at the flowers, he immediately
thought of the verse from one of his favorite poets, William Wordsworth.
"I
wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and
hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils..."
He softly caressed the petals of the bright yellow flower, wondering if
the sender knew the verse and if that were the reason for selecting
it. If not for his name on the envelope, he would have thought
they were delivered to the wrong person. He never received
anything. Besides, who sends flowers to a man? William
continued to run his fingers along the petals. Laying the flowers
next to him, he picked up the envelope. He didn't recognize the
handwriting. No one he knew had that elegant way of
writing. The letters of his name flowed across the paper.
When he turned it over, he noticed the wax seal. Moving it closer
to the candle on the table, he saw what it was – a griffin with the
letter "A" in its talons. What
a strange seal. He'd never seen it before. With
curiosity boiling over, he slid his fingers under the flap and broke
the seal. William pulled the note out and laid it in his lap
while he put his glasses on.
While elegant, there was nothing frilly or feminine about the
handwriting. It was strong and sure. As he read the note,
he was shocked to realize that it was from someone that had attended
the same party as he had earlier tonight. Remembering what
happened and his mortification at the hands of Percy and his friends,
he was almost afraid to finish the note, but he continued reading.
William,
I could not help but take notice of you at the party tonight.
I saw you from across the room, sitting by yourself. I
apologize for not introducing myself to you, but I wanted
to let you know that not everyone finds your poetry appalling.
Most people have no appreciation of the difficulty in putting
words to paper that express one's feelings.
Pay no mind to the fools that would try to dissuade you. Your
words showed me a glimpse of the passion that hides within you...
a passion that I want to help let it out.
When I saw you, these words came immediately to mind.
Being a poet yourself, I'm sure you have heard them before and
understand their meaning.
He was a phantom of delight
When first he gleaned upon my sight;
A lovely apparition, sent
To be a moment's ornament;
His eyes as stars of Twilight fair'
Like Twilight's too, his dusky hair...
And now I see with eye serene
The very pulse of the machine
A Being breathing thoughtful breath,
A Traveler between life and death;
The reason firm, the temperate will,
Endurance, foresight, strength and
skill;
A perfect man, nobly planned
To warn, to comfort, and command;
And yet a spirit still, and bright
With something of angelic light.
With those words, I'll close for now. Til we can meet.
A
William read and reread the pages. He recognized the poem
immediately; another written by William Wordsworth. The title of
the work was "She was a Phantom of Delight." Knowing the poem so
well, he wondered at the changing of the "she's" to "he's".
Did some woman who took notice of him
tonight send it? That is highly unlikely – women don't take
notice of me. I bet it was Percy or one of his group having a
spot of fun with me again.
But the more he read it, the more he didn't think so. He couldn't
see Percy or one of his group doing something like this.
Curiosity fully piqued now, William ran through the events of the
evening, hoping to remember something. He didn't talk to anyone
tonight, not that he ever did. He only went to these things
because his mother wanted him to. She was so hoping that he'd
meet a nice girl to settle down with. If only mother knew. He
always sat by himself in a corner somewhere, writing, since no one ever
bothered with him.
One thing he did remember – he had the distinct feeling he was being
watched tonight, but whenever he looked around, he didn't see
anyone. Then on the way home, he had a feeling that he was being
followed, but again when he would turn around, no one would be
there. William laughed nervously as he thought that maybe he was
being stalked by a phantom.
While trying to remember anything from tonight, William yawned.
Getting up, he went to the kitchen and put some water in a vase for the
flowers. Continuing upstairs, he checked on his mother before
going into his bedroom. He placed the vase and the note on the
table next to his bed.
After changing into his nightshirt, William climbed into bed, blowing
out the candle. He lay there for a long time thinking about the
note and the poem, wishing he knew who this person was. He
puzzled over the identity of his admirer until he fell asleep.