Well it's been far too long since I updated this, but my muse decided not
to be a bitch and finally behave herself. Hope it was worth the wait.
 
Hugs,
Fox
 
Title: Acrylic Dreams (11/?)
Author: Foxhunt2blue
Summary: Written for the FG Anniversary
Edition Challenge #30. AU Universe where
Angel is a reclusive artist and William is a young writer
determined to write a book about an artist who should
be older than he appears.
Rating: NC-17 (all over rating)
Pairing: Angel/Spike, Angel/William
Disclaimer: Our wonderful Joss created them I had
nothing to do with it—wish I had. Frankly, the boys
would be a lot happier with me as their mama! *web
Feedback: Please feed the baby slash ho' cause she can
be quite pathetic. She cries all night if she doesn't get
her daily dose of feedback. *giggle
E-mail: foxhunter2blue@peoplepc.com
 
You can find previous chapters at the following link on
my LJ:
 
http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml?user=angelstart&keyword=Acrylic+Dreams+Series&filter=all
 
***
 
Faith stood in her office the normally bright morning
light that shone through the windows snuffed out by a
dreary morning of dark, low clouds and a steady stream
of rain. She'd not slept much since talking to William
and what little sleep she'd managed had been inhabited
by dark visions of death and pain. Lifting the cup to her
lips she sipped the coffee not really tasting it just lost in
her thoughts and worries.
 
"Ms. Alexander?"
 
Without turning from the window, she sighed. "What is
it Warren?"
 
"Your 9:15 appointment is here. Should I send him in?"
 
Suddenly she was feeling a bit better, but there was
something in Warren's voice that made her nervous,
something she couldn't quite put her finger on. "Yes.
Send him in please...oh, and Warren cancel all my
other appointments for the day."
 
"Sure no problem."
 
Behind her, the door closed and then the soft sound of
voices beyond in the outer office caught her attention. If
she were wrong about what she was thinking then,
she'd only feel like a fool, but if she were right then
she'd be leaving London in a few hours. The door
opened and then closed and she took a deep calming
breath, turning to greet her appointment.
 
"Welcome to London, Charles."
 
The tall, muscled young man smiled at Faith, his teeth
gleaming in his dark face. "Yo, Faith, girl...long time.
What can a brother do for you?" His caramel eyes
moved down her body and a smirk curled his full
mouth.
 
Leaning over her desk she scribbled a note on a sheet of
paper and handed it to Charles. "What? A girl can't
want a friend to come visit?" A false note of happiness
tinged her voice, but didn't quite touch her eyes.
 
Charles Gunn raised a brow as he unfolded the sheet of
paper and frowned as he read it.
 
MY OFFICE IS BUGGED
 
"Well, Faith you can start out by buying a brother
lunch. Cause what can I say, but airline food...damn!
What do you say girlfriend?"
 
"Sounds like a plan. Let me get my coat." That time the
smile that curled her lips reached her eyes as she
grabbed her trench coat and headed for the door,
Charles following on her heel.
 
***
 
"So if the Initiative has joined forces with the Council
we've got a war on our hands? Sweet Mother Mary, but
me brain is ready to explode with all this."
 
Doyle followed Angel up the stairs to the third floor of
the house an occasional sneeze punctuating the chill air,
filled with dust. With a grunt, Angel fished around in
the pocket of his jeans finally producing a ring of keys
as he turned to the left and headed down the hall.
 
"What exactly are we doin' up here boyo? Looks like
that there ain't been a soul up here for some time." A
sigh escaped Doyle as his sharp gaze drifted from wall
to wall and door to door. "Shouldn't we be downstairs
preparing for this war of yours?"
 
As they came to the end of the hall Doyle ran straight
into Angel with a 'uhf'. Angel turned one brow raised
in a mixture of annoyance and amusement at the sight
of Doyle sprawled on the carpet, thick with dust. Open-
ing his mouth as if to say something Doyle let out a
resounding sneeze that echoed down the hall.
 
Scrubbing his watery eyes, he glanced up at Angel as
his other brow rose to greet the first. "What?"
 
Shaking his head Angel turned back to the door,
slipping a large iron key in the ancient lock and turning
it, not even flinching when the lock protested with a
high pitched shriek. Doyle slapped his hands over his
ears; his eyes squeezing shut as a colorful string of
curses escaped his lips.
 
"Do you kiss your mother with that mouth Francis
Allen Doyle?" Angel snarked as he pushed the door
open.
 
A soft snort came from behind him. "Aye that I do,
boyo. Who would you have been thinkin' taught me
those words."
 
"Surely not your dear mother. Such a lovely lass and a
church goin' woman at that." Angel let his accent
thicken, a grin curling his lips as he reached for the
light switch just inside the door.
 
"Apparently you don't know me mother as well as you
think Liam Conway." Doyle dusted the seat of his pants
off stepping into the small room just as the light fixture
on the wall blinked on. His eyes widened, as he looked
up at the spiral staircase that reached upward into the
dusky shadows that the light didn't quite banish. "What
in the name of St. Brigid is that?"
 
Angel chuckled as his gaze lifted up taking in the
elaborate scrollwork of the iron stairs. "Didn't you ever
wonder why it is that the road is called Widow's
Walk?"
 
"Never gave it much thought." Doyle rubbed his nose,
then exploded in another dust induced fit of sneezing.
 
Rolling his eyes Angel removed the flashlight from
where it hung on his belt and flipped the switch,
sending a beam of bright silver light into shadows.
"This leads to the Widow's Walk on top of the house. It
was where the wives would come to watch for their
husbands to return from the sea. Many a woman never
saw them return so the platform was called a Widow's
Walk."
 
"Well isn't that just a morbid piece of history I wasn't
needin' to hear." Doyle peered up into the darkness.
 
Angel started up the stairwell, the stairs creaking and
swaying just a bit beneath his weight. "Actually you
needed to hear that." He snorted as he disappeared in
the darkness. "This is the highest vantage point on land
in this town."
 
"So?" Doyle carefully stepped onto the stairs, eyeball-
ing the ancient metal and sending a prayer out that it
would hold.
 
"So Mr. Doubtful Pants you can see for miles in either
direction." Angel's voice echoed from the shadows.
"All good soldiers need a look out point."
 
***
 
Downstairs in the main parlor William paced, his gaze
continuously shifting from the ceiling to where Willow
and Tara were unpacking the bag that Tara had been
carrying. He was angry, worried, and most of all scared
despite the fact he'd never admit it. After Angel had
made love to him and he'd fallen asleep, he'd dreamt.
 
The dreams had been odd to say the very least. Images
that were a mix of his life, of Spike's life, and of other
things that he hadn't recognized. One of those images
that he'd seen was of a woman. He'd seen her before,
but now he understood who and what she was.
 
His mother, a slayer driven mad by the death of his
father, though whom his father could be was still a
mystery to him. There were echoes of a name in his
head, Roger, yet he wasn't sure who the man was. He
chewed his lip as he continued pacing trying to force
the images to become clearer in his head.
 
"Hey Blondie could you stop the pacing before you
wear a hole in the floor?"
 
Jerking his head up he glared at Harris with cold eyes
and snorted. "So why are you here? Just playing the
royal wanker or are you of some use?"
 
"Look shithead I didn't ask to be pulled into your little
melodrama, but here I am. Get over it." Harris folded
his arms over his chest in a defiant posture. "You're
little vampire fuck made sure of that."
 
"Take that back."
 
"Or what?"
 
"Or I'll rip you a new arsehole you bloody twit!"
William snarled.
 
Harris did his best Macauley Culkin impersonation, his
eyes going as wide as saucers. "Oh I'm so scared! Help
the girlie romance writer is going to get me!"
 
"I'll show you 'girlie' you sodding poof!"
 
"Boys!"
 
Both men turned, fists clenched as if to do battle, to see
Willow standing, arms folded, and foot tapping in
annoyance. She blew a strand of scarlet hair from her
face and frowned.
 
"See what you've gone and done?" She questioned. "I
haven't had to use my pissed off face since we were in
college, William."
 
His mouth twitched for a moment, and then the twitch
turned into a smile that eventually turned to a chuckle.
"Yeah...so what next? Your bloody 'resolve' face?"
 
Willow's sharp green eyes twinkled. "If need be." One
brow raised with a quick twitch. "Now are you two
going to play nice or is it the 'resolve' face?"
 
Throwing his hands up William smirked. "Play nice."
 
Her gaze shifted to Harris who immediately began
twitching. A puff of air escaped his pursed lips as her
brow rose even higher. "Fine..." he grumbled, "...I'll
play nice."
 
"Good." Her smile widened as she bounced back to the
table. "Now boys first thing is first. We know that
Travers is leading this little coup and he believes that
you have power. So..." she turned back with a small
vial of white powder in hand, "...shall we see if he's
right?"
 
***
 
Outside the rain had become heavier, drenching the
streets of London, and graying the city further. Faith sat
across the table from Gunn, poking at her pasta, and her
gaze fixed on the street beyond the glass. She'd never
felt so hopeless or lost, she thought. One conversation
with William, her on again, off again lover, and client
and she was having nightmarp;
William's eyes grew wider; perspiration dripping down
his pale face as the wind grew stronger. He'd never
believed in witchcraft, magic, or vampires in his life,
but now his heart was pounding in fear as he wondered
what Willow and Tara were calling up. His hands began
to tremble with fear and his breath caught in his throat
as Willow turned glowing silver eyes on him.
 
"It's okay William. Don't be frightened." She smiled,
but it did nothing to ease William's fear.
 
"You're kidding---right, luv? Your soddin' eyes are
glowing like some monster from a bleedin' fairy tale!"
He yelled over the roar of the wind.
 
Willow shook her head in amusement. "And he
wonders why I never told him. Hang on Will this is just
the beginning."
 
She began to hum softly in the back of her throat as the
glow began to spread along her skin. Outside the penta-
gram Tara continued to pace swinging the incense
burner back and forth, her voice lost in the howling
wind. William's gaze shifted from one woman to the
other nervously.
 
"William look at me..." Willow's voice rose echoing
through the room.
 
"Maybe this wasn't such a great idea." He began
shaking as he watched the silver glow travel down
Willow's arms closer to their clasped hands. "I mean do
I really need to know what..."
 
"SILENCE!!"
 
William's head jerked up to look in Willow's face with
sheer terror. Her eyes were shining like the high beams
on a car and he found himself caught in that light, like
the proverbial deer. He couldn't look away although he
wanted to with all his strength.
 
"Red?" He squeaked out between suddenly parched
lips.
 
"She allows me to speak through her, for she is my
daughter. She has called me to her." The voice that
came from Willow's body was not hers and suddenly
William was more terrified than he'd ever been.
 
"Who...are you?" He stuttered out, his throat closing
tight with the fear of this thing inside his friend.
 
"I am the darkness...I am the light. I am the creator and
the destroyer of all things. Open up to me William
Danridge and allow the truth to be known."
 
The light began creeping up William's arms as he
gasped for air. "No..." that single word was swallowed
by the howling wind as the light shot up his arms and
engulfed him.
"What the fuck?!" Harris took a step forward, reaching
for his gun.
 
One of Willow's hands released William's swinging
out to point at Harris. "Do not interfere human! He is
safe in my embrace!"
 
Harris stopped dead, his dark eyes wide, and his hands
dropping to his sides. "Jesus Christ..." he hissed unable
to budge.
 
"No, human...I am Hecate!"
 
***
 
Paris
1953
 
"Iniaes...please." Angel's voice was so soft only
another demon could hear it over the screaming chaos
behind him. "I've never asked you for anything in the
hundred years we've know each other, but I'm begging
you now. Please let my childe go."
 
"As you let the Master's childe go? You have committ-
ed the ultimate infraction of vampire law and you beg
for this pathetic fledgling's life? How very far the
mighty Angelus has fallen." Iniaes' silver gaze flicked
from Angel to where William dangled from her clawed
fist.
 
Angel's demon roared deep inside, rattling the bars of
its soul-cage. "I know what I did Iniaes! I fucking know
I killed my sire! Why do you think I had them curse
me? It wasn't just for William!"
 
Cocking her head, Iniaes turned her eerie gaze on
Angel. "Curse? Of what curse do you speak, Angelus?"
 
"He didn't tell you---did he?" Angel's eyes flickered
gold for a moment, then back to their human color.
"The Master sent you out to destroy me and didn't even
bother telling you the truth."
 
"The truth?"
 
"Yes..." Angel hissed. "Open up your senses Iniaes and
tell me what you sense."
 
A frown creased Iniaes' ridged brow as she studied
Angel curiously. Mere seconds passed, then her eyes
widened. "You have a soul." It was a statement rather
than a question. She turned to study William, as he
dangled from her fist, clawing at her fingers desperate-
ly. "Be still vampire. It is not as if you need air." She
leaned in close sniffing along William's skin, then
turned back to Angel her eyes flashing. "He has one as
well."
 
"Of course he does..." he stopped mid-sentence his
eyes flashing gold again as his demon reared it's ugly
little head. "You don't know." He growled softly. "He
didn't tell you why I killed his precious Darla---did
he?"
 
Iniaes growled low in her throat. "What is this? The
Master told me nothing of this."
 
Running his fingers through his hair Angel began to
pace. "Darla hated me childe..." his accent flowed from
him as if he'd never lost it, "...she...she had the
gypsies curse me boy because of her own jealousies.
She..." he turned back to Iniaes, "...broke the laws
first!" He roared his face shifting, and his eyes going
solid gold. "She interfered with another master's childe.
She cursed him because she was a petty, conniving
whore!"
 
William hit the floor as Iniaes' fist opened. "Then you
were in your right."
 
"Who would you believe Iniaes?"
 
They both turned to see the Master standing behind
them, the Aurelius Guard on either side. His already
twisted visage twisted more as he took a step forward,
his clawed hands tightening into fists.
 
Iniaes' hand settled on her sword as she looked down
on the Master. "I believe my senses. If you have lied to
me and mine by omission or otherwise you've made a
powerful enemy."
"Enemy?" The Master snorted. "You dare speak to me,
the Master of the Clan Aurelius, of enemies?"
 
"I dare much more than that." Iniaes stepped closer
with a growl. "I am Iniaes of the Angelians. Leader of
the Enforcers who control the Laws of Darkness."
 
Angel stepped next to Iniaes as William got to his feet,
rubbing his throat. Smirking Angel eyed his childe, then
turned back to The Master. "I think you pissed her off."
 
"I should have killed you the day Darla brought you to
me. From that moment, I knew you were nothing, but
trouble. A pretty little simpleton who was far to big for
his Irish breeches!" Hissing the Master took another
step forward. "But Darla was never one to be told what
to do when it came to her obsessions."
 
"Nay...she wasn't. But then she always preferred me
handsome face to your ugly bat puss---now didn't she?"
Angel raised a brow in amusement at the look of pure
fury on the Master's face.
 
"I will kill you...you insolent childe!"
 
Iniaes stepped in front of Angel with a snarl. "I think
not Master of Aurelius! You called out blood
vengeance without being truthful about the causes.
Angelus of the Aurelius has the right to call you out to
battle if he sees fit to do so. You have broken the Laws
of Darkness, used them to satisfy your own urge for
vengeance against one who has already punished
himself."
 
Opening his mouth to reply Angel was stopped by
William's hand on his shoulder. "Don't, luv." He
whispered softly. "'M not worth this."
 
"I beg to differ childe. I've had enough of this running
and I will not run anymore." His eyes flickered from
William to the Master. "We deserve to be free of this
monster and to live our lives as we see fit."
 
"Please..." William's eyes glistened as he cupped
Angel's chin drawing him around to look into his
golden eyes. "Don't die for me."
 
His game face melted away leaving behind tear-filled
mahogany eyes. Lifting his hand, he cupped William's
jaw, running his thumb over his lips gently. "If not now
me beautiful boy, then when? He'll not quit houndin' us
until he has his pound of flesh."
 
"He'll kill you, pet." William whispered in a strained
voice as he fought the tears trembling on his lashes.
 
"Nay...me sweet childe."
 
William glanced up into Angel's tear bright eyes. "I
have me a secret weapon." He leaned in kissing
William deep and soft then pulled back. "I have you
and I have our love."
 
***
 
Stepping into the parlor Angel studied the scene before
him with narrowed eyes. He had known what Willow
was doing, but he'd hoped it would be done by the time
he and Doyle had returned. He folded his arms across
his chest, digging his fingers deep into his own flesh as
he tried to control the need to go to his boy.
 
"Mother of Mercy what in God's name is she doin'?"
Doyle watched with wide eyes as the glow that
surrounded Willow began engulfing William as well.
 
"She's called one of the faces of the Goddess. Hecate is
the goddess of witchcraft, sorcery, and of the dead."
 
Doyle raised an eyebrow. "The dead---now is it? Your
boy ain't dead though."
 
With a sad sigh, Angel leaned against the wall, rubbing
his face. "But he was Doyle. Once upon a time he was."
 
***
 
William could feel the energy flowing through him,
around him, and possessing him. His mouth contorted
as if he were screaming, but no sounds came from his
lungs---not a breath of air.
 
//William---child of gypsy magic, remember the
voices.//
 
His whole body began to spasm as his eyes twisted shut
in agony. Not an agony of the body, but that of the soul
that had been forced back to life by gypsy magic.
 
//Remember who you once were, who you are, and who
you are to become. Remember so that you may destroy
those who seek to destroy you.//
 
The howling rose to a crescendo, as the light grew so
bright that no one in the room could look within it. He
opened his mouth again to scream, but this time the
light overwhelmed him.
 
***
 
"William."
 
He blinked and tried to focus his eyes. "Who's that?"
 
"So soon you forget." Soft laughter tickled William's
ears. "Can't you see me my darling William?"
 
Blinking again William focused on the soft shadow
before him and as its features became sharper a breath
of air caught in his throat. "Mum?"
 
Jana of the Calderash stood in front of William her
features as young and beautiful as he remembered them
to be from his childhood. Her ghostly hand lifted to
caress William's cheek as tears began to trickle down
his face. He tried to breathe, but the air refused to come
as he panted in shock.
 
"You've grown to be such a handsome man my darling
William, just as I knew you would." Her smile
brightened with pride and the love only a mother could
have for their child.
 
"I don't understand, mum." His voice trembled in
confusion and fear. "You died and it was..."
 
"Not your fault, William---never your fault. Your father
made a horrible mistake and now you pay the price."
 
"Father?" He blinked away tears as he swallowed hard.
 
She shook her head, her dark hair swirling around her
face. "Not the father you knew William. The father who
was father only in blood---your birth father."
 
His brow furrowed. "My birth father? How? I thought
you and father didn't know who he was."
 
"We knew William---I better than your father. Rupert
was always a good man, but he was used by the Council
to control you. Your birth father was one of the ranks
and a man who fell in love with the forbidden fruit. His
charge, a slayer, and so you came into this world."
 
"Slayer?"
 
"Yes. Your mother was a slayer, but in her grief over
your father's death she went mad and destroyed what
should have been protected."
 
"Spike." William whispered softly.
 
Nodding Janna smiled down at William. "You are the
soul that once walked this earth as Spike---William the
Bloody---ensouled by a curse and lover of the master
vampire Angelus of the Aurelius. The soul inside of
you should not have remembered, yet it did. The
Powers above sought to correct her error by moving
your soul in place of her unborn child. You..." she
leaned in kissing his forehead, "...are far more than you
ever knew. Within you is the power to decimate those
that seek to use you. Let Angelus be your guide as well
as your brother."
 
Choking back a shocked breath William met her steady
gaze. "My brother?"
 
She smiled as she began to fade. "You've always
known him William even though you were not aware.
He was always by your side."
 
His eyes grew wide as the realization struck him like
lightening. "Wes..."
 
"Listen to your heart my sweet son. In this fight your
heart is all you need to stand against the darkness..."
 
Suddenly she was gone in a swirl of mist and William
found himself weeping. "No...please mum...please
don't go."
 
***
 
As the others watched the silver light began to with-
draw from William's trembling body.
 
"Forget not what you have been told William Danridge
for it is sacred. It is all you need to know. Farewell
child of slayer blood and gypsy magic. Call not my
presence forth again until you are ready for what is to
be done."
 
In a flash of bright light and a whirlwind of icy air
Hecate was gone leaving Willow pale and exhausted. In
front of her, William slumped forward sobbing softly.
 
Angel was the first to move and the first to speak in the
overbearing silence. "William?" He knelt next to the
young man, who sat weeping, his head bowed. "Please
William...please me sweet boy talk to me."
 
"How can you love me?" Came the soft, desperate
answer to Angel's plea. Lifting his head William met
Angel's dark gaze with sorrowful eyes.
 
"I do na' understand." A look of confusion swept over
Angel's features.
 
"I'm her son." William whispered. "I'm the son of the
woman who murdered your lover. How can you love
that?" A soft sob caught in William's throat.
 
Lifting his hand Angel cupped William's jaw even as
he flinched away, his thumb caressing the soft
trembling lips. His dark eyes studied the young man in
front of him with an intensity he rarely used on
anything other than his art, but after all William was his
muse. He'd always been his muse---no matter the life or
the body he resided in.
 
"How can I not?" Angel whispered as he leaned
forward taking William's lips in a gentle kiss. Drawing
back, he smiled at William. "I could never not love ye.
No matter how many lives we lead."
 
***
 
On the old Akins farm despite the howling storm
soldiers, dressed all in black. scurried about as Travers
made his way to the main farmhouse. Next to him stood
the soldier in charge, Captain Maggie Walsh of the
Initiative. Some of the old guard might have a problem
with a female in charge, but Travers knew better. He'd
been working closely with Captain Walsh for the better
part of a decade and she was one of the most ruthless
warriors he'd ever had the pleasure of knowing.
 
"The runners?" He asked simply.
 
"They've been dispatched as per your orders." Her
voice was calm, emotionless, yet there was a sharp edge
to her words. "I hope the quarters are to your liking."
 
He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Nothing
matters about that. I do believe though that you were to
update me on the alternative operation."
 
She turned her cold gaze on Travers, her eyes almost
hidden in the shadows of her helmet. "It is prepared just
as we discussed. Would you like to meet him?"
 
Raising a brow Travers mounted the stairs to the front
porch. "He is activated already."
 
As Captain Walsh opened the door, she smiled for the
first time an inhuman glint in her eyes. "Oh, yes and I
think you'll be very pleased with the outcome."
 
Stepping in the door Travers' gaze settled on the figure
that stepped from the shadows. The dim light glanced
off metal and gave the eyes of the man before him an
eerie red glow for a moment. A smug smile curled
Travers lips as he glanced over at Captain Walsh.
 
"Very pleased Captain Walsh. Very pleased indeed."

 
TBC
 
 
 
 
 
 
Once I had the rarest rose
That ever deigned to bloom.
Cruel winter chilled the bud
And stole my flower too soon.
 
Annie Lennox
Love Song For A Vampire     
(from "Bram Stoker's Dracula" Soundtrack)
 

http://www.geocities.com/rose_liz2001/Dark_Fantasies.html
 
http://www.livejournal.com/~angelstart/
 
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/FAN-FICTION-UTOPIA/join