Sorry this one took so long RL can be a right bloody pain in the arse! LOL :-D
 
Title: Acrylic Dreams (5/?)
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
 

***
 
St. Brigid Church
Norfolk, England
April 26, 1992
 
Spring was coming, but the chill in the air still spoke of
winter. A crisp breeze stirred the branches of the trees
that stood, like two ancient sentinels, on either side of
the graveyard entrance next to the ancient church. If it
weren't for the tiny buds of sharp green one would have
thought the branches resembled the very skeletal hands
of death.
 
Rupert Giles straightened his shoulders beneath his
black wool coat and inhaled through his nose. Seven-
teen years of marriage to Jenny and it was to end like
this, he thought, on a chill spring afternoon shortly
before her fortieth birthday. He glanced up at the sky,
the sharp cerulean color almost surreal in its perfection.
 
Next to him stood he and Jenny's son, William, trying
his best to be the man he was so close to being. Rupert
studied him with eyes that shone with a love he was
never quite comfortable showing. William was their son
in every way, but blood. They had only sat down with
the boy last summer to tell him he'd been adopted at
birth. Of course, William had understood---he always
understood, no matter the discussion. He was an
extremely intelligent boy. A tiny smile flickered across
Rupert's lips as he recalled the conversation.
 
***
 
"William we need to speak to you...your father and I."
 
William had glimpsed up from his studies at the desk in
the library. His sharp sapphire eyes peering above the
trim silver framed glasses in curiosity, then worry, as he
saw the expression in Jenny's eyes and the look on his
father's face. He frowned as he closed his book and
stood approaching them.
 
"What is it, mum? Dad?" He turned back to Jenny with
a scared look. " Mum? You don't look well."
 
Smiling gently Jenny had cupped her son's strong
square jaw, her thumb caressing his cheekbone as her
eyes shimmered with tears, yet unshed. "You have
grown into such a handsome young man," she whisper-
ed as her hand dropped taking his. "Come with us to
your father's study."
 
***
 
A shiver traveled through Giles as he was pulled back
to the here and now, the vicar smiling at him gently. "I
am so sorry Rupert. Jennifer was a beautiful, vibrant
woman."
 
He shook the vicar's hand as he glanced at William
from the corner of his eye. "Yes, she was quite the
woman. I shall miss her deeply. You know we hadn't
been apart since we met at Oxford in '71. I am at a loss
as to how to survive without her presence."
 
"How...may I ask...is your son doing, Rupert? I know
he and Jenny were quite close for a mother and son."
 
"I'm not sure to be honest, Charles. So much has
happened over the past year. His grandmother, my
mother, passed in late summer, and then we told him he
was adopted shortly after. My mother had made me
promise to tell him. And now Jenny's death." Rupert
paused glancing to where William stood. "He's been
quite stoic, but I worry about him, Charles."
 
"Yes, I suppose you would. After all, you are a good
father, Rupert. William has always been a strong child
and I have no doubt he will make it through this."
 
***
 
William could hear them, his father, and the vicar,
speaking behind him as he stared out across the rows of
graves. In the distance, a small tent had been erected
next to an open grave---his mother's grave. He
swallowed hard, one hand drifting up to scrub at his
eyes.
 
"I will not cry...I will not cry..." he whispered beneath
his breath.
 
He knew without a doubt his father was worried, but he
had made himself a promise, his mother a promise.
 
As Jenny had laid dying in ICU she had taken his hand
in her cold one and squeezed weakly. He remembered
how frail she had appeared wrapped in snow bright
gauze and dark bruises marring, her usually beautiful
face.
 
//Promise me, William, promise me that you shall be
strong for your father. He does so get lost without me. //
 
//Yes, mum...I promise. You can go to heaven now,
mum. I know you're hurting here and you won't hurt
there. //
 
The warm firm grip on his shoulder drew William back
from his thoughts causing him to glance up. His best
friend Wesley stood next to him with a worried
expression, his eyes red and puffy behind his glasses.
 
"Hey, Will..." he sniffed, squeezing William's shoulder,
"...I am sorry about your mum. She was a lovely
lady...really she was..." his voice trailed off sadly as he
glanced at his shiny shoes.
 
"Hey now, Wes." William couldn't help, but to smile.
He knew his friend had been crushing on his mum since
the two of them had begun to notice the fairer sex. "It'll
be okay---you do know that? You know you were
always mum's favorite amongst my friends."
 
Wes glanced up with a tear-streaked face and smiled
weakly. "Really? Are you quite sure?"
 
"Yes, you silly bugger!" He mock punched Wes in the
arm. "She always said that we were like two bloody
peas in a pod---so much alike that we could be
brothers."
 
A soft sniffle escaped Wes as he wiped at his face.
"That was right nice of her. Your parents always made
me feel at home. I always figured it was because my
father and yours had worked together."
 
"Well, whatever it was I'm bloody well glad they did."
William wrapped his arm around Wes' shoulders in a
brotherly hug. "So shall we pay our last respects to the
best mum in the world?"
 
"Yes, I do believe we shall." Wes smiled softly as he
reached beneath his coat pulling out a clear box with
two roses in it---one snow white and the other blood
red. "I even remembered the flowers."
 
William patted Wes on the back as they stepped into the
graveyard and followed the procession of mourners to
the tent.
 
***
 
Present Day
Somewhere above the Atlantic
British Airways Flight 921
First Class
 
"Damn it...I do not in anyway care what you think..."
Giles hissed into his cell. "I am quite aware of what
position you hold on the Council, Travers!"
 
At the sharp retort of his voice, Rupert Giles glanced up
to see a few passengers glancing his way in annoyance.
He mouthed quickly 'sorry' and stood up from his seat,
stepping from the first class lounge into the small hall
separating them from coach.
 
"Listen to me, Travers. He is my son and I will not
allow you or any of the other uptight arses on the
council to use him---are we clear on that?"
 
He rolled his eyes in exasperation, rubbing at the bridge
of his nose, as he shook his head. "He isn't anything
special. If he were, do you not think it would have
shown up by now? He is just a normal young man...no
super strength...no destiny like his blood mother...he is
just simply a 'normal' young man."
 
Giles threw back his head laughing bitterly at the man
on the other end of the phone. He was quite done, he
thought.
 
"Because you sodding git! He is where Angel is! What
do you suppose Angel will do to him when he finds out
that he's the son of the Slayer who murdered his lover?
His bloody childe?!"
 
***
 
William's hands were everywhere and nowhere at once
as Angel ground his hips down pinning him to the bed.
A soft moan rose in his throat as Angel caught his
mouth in a deep, searing kiss.
 
"Missed ye...me sweet blue-eyed boy..." Angel growled
against the pliant mouth beneath his. "Missed ye so
much I ached inside like a thousand stakes piercing me
heart."
 
"Silly, git..." William panted out between the quick
bruising kisses, "...told ya I'd never leave ya..."
 
Angel was lost in that voice so much like his childe's
and all he wanted to do was bury himself in that
tightness he recalled all to vividly. It didn't matter that
Spike had died all those years ago in New York. He
knew with the deepest certainty that this was Spike---
this was the soul he'd loved more than anything.
 
"Want you..." he growled softly, his hands stroking
down that sleek warm body, his fingers curling into the
waistband of the soft cotton boxers. "Want inside of
you so bad..."
 
Squirming beneath him William lifted his hips, their
cocks clashing through cotton and denim. "Then what
are you waiting for you sodding git?" He chuckled as
Angel's hands tore away the thin cotton to release his
rock hard cock.
 
"Nothing...me boy..." Angel grumbled with amuse-
ment as William hissed beneath him, his sensitive
length brushing against the rough denim of Angel's
jeans. "I'll take ye hard and fast...fuck ye into the
mattress until ye scream me name."
 
Reaching for Angel's waist, he tore open the button fly
and released Angel's cock from its tight confines. "This
for me, pet?"
 
"Aye..." Angel hissed as William's warm fingers
tightened around his cool flesh, "...always for ye,
Will."
 
Stroking with feather light fingers William looked up
into those pitch black eyes and found nothing but lust,
want, need, and---love. Love shone like moonlight on
the ebony landscape of his home.
 
A tiny frown formed between his dark brows.
 
Home.
 
He tried to focus on that one simple word as Angel's
fingers curled around his hot, pulsing flesh.
 
A barrage of images hit him as he panted at that
familiar and yet new sensation.
 
A woman with dark eyes and dark hair, singing a sweet
lullaby to him.
 
Flashing lights speeding by on the tube.
 
Another woman this one with pale honey colored eyes
filled with hate in a caramel face of exquisite beauty.
 
"...no..." William whimpered, his eyes clenching shut
tightly.
 
"Will?"
 
His eyes flew open at the soft brogue. "Wha...who...?"
 
Another barrage of images hit him, causing him to
flinch in pain. The man above him, touching him,
frowned.
 
Feathers, soft downy feathers, drifted around him and
the dark-eyed man. Soft laughter filled with lust and a
light of admiration for his body.
 
//Lazy thing...//
 
//Well who found the need to stroll around naked as the
day he was born? //
 
William could see a place that was like no other he had
ever been, too. A bed so huge that it almost took up half
of the room. An easel sat across the room, a canvas
propped on its scarred wood, a dark-haired man stand-
ing behind it in nothing, but jeans.
 
Again he whimpered, "...no..."
 
As sudden as the images came they faded and he shook
his head trying to clear the lingering cobwebs away.
When he looked up, he found himself staring at the man
from his vision, the man by the easel, except now he
had shorter hair.
 
"You...I saw you..." his words faded as he realized
both he and the man above him were naked. "Bloody
hell!" With a shocked screech, he began to struggle.
 
Angel shocked by the sudden turn from amorous to
terrified released the warm length of William's cock as
William cried out. "Spike?" His brow furrowed.
 
"Spike? Who the bloody hell is Spike?!" Cringing
William's face burned scarlet in the dim candlelight.
"What did you---did we---do?"
 
A door seemed to close behind Angel's eyes as he sat
back, his hard thick cock heavy against his belly. He
reached for his discarded jeans as William pulled the
blanket around himself.
 
"Nothing..." Angel whispered.
 
William shook his head furiously. "What do you mean
nothing? We---you and I---are naked...and your..." he
waved a hand at Angel's erection on the verge of
hysterics.
 
"Like I said...nothing." Angel stood turning his back as
he pulled on his jeans.
 
Confused, terrified, and shivering William's gaze
roamed over Liam's body finally settling on the tattoo
on his shoulder blade. He sucked a deep breath in as
another image played in his head.
 
Liam was lying on his stomach amidst a tangle of
blankets. Firelight played along the length of his spine,
leaving the soft hollow above the swell of his ass filled
with shadows.
 
"Angel..." he whispered softly, his eyes widening,
"...it's you...you're him, but..."
 
Angel turned his dark eyes softening when he realized
how terrified the young man was. "Aye...it's me."
 
Shaking his head, William tightened the blankets
around him, all the color draining from his face. "Can't
be---now can it? You were this age back in the
fifties...that would be impossible."
 
A soft chuckle escaped Angel's lips as he moved back
to the bed. The candlelight played across his pale sculp-
tured chest, mesmerizing William, as he moved. A
single tear trailed down his face catching the light like a
perfectly cut diamond.
 
"My human name was Liam Sean Conway. I was born
in a tiny village in Galway County Ireland in 1727."
 
William began laughing at the solemn way Angel spoke
his laughter high-pitched with hysteria. "So what does
that make you? Couple hundred years old, mate?"
 
"Including my years as a mortal I've existed for exactly
two-hundred and seventy-seven years."
 
"So you're what? An immortal? You're like that guy on
that show? On the telly? What's it called... 'Highland-
er'." William chewed at his lower lip.
 
"Nay...not quite."
  
***
 
JFK International Airport
New York City
 
As he made his way through Customs Rupert Giles
checked his watch for the hundredth time, his foot
tapping on the shiny tile of the floor. He knew that he
had only a short time before the Council made their
way to Finch's Cove and William.
 
Travers was a bastard.
 
All these years he had kept Rupert in the dark. From the
moment that he'd agreed, for Jenny's sake, to take the
slayer's child into his home the plan had been in place.
 
They had wanted to keep an eye on William, to protect
him for their own nefarious purposes. Even Pryce
would have been horrified at the conduct.
 
"Mr. Giles! Mr. Giles!"
 
Rupert glanced up with a frown to see Wesley
Wyndam-Pryce waving his arm. With a sigh he
collected his carry-on bag and nodded curtly at the
security guard. A few quick strides and he was standing
in front of William's best friend.
 
"Wes..." he shifted his bag onto his shoulder and
pulled the young man into a fatherly embrace.
 
Wes pulled back his eyes filled with amusement. "That
would be the most interesting greeting I believe that
I've ever received from you, Rupert."
 
Looking decidedly uncomfortable Rupert drew a deep
breath and smiled. "I've missed you, son."
 
"I do believe it is quite more than that." Wes took his
bag and guided him through the crowded terminal
towards the parking lot. "Now tell me what all this is
about. Your message said that William was in danger
from someone. I dropped everything and crossed the
States to get here. Cordelia was not in the least happy
about that."
 
Rupert removed his glasses polishing them briskly as
they stepped into the elevator. "I imagine she wasn't
considering she is pregnant."
 
Eyebrow quirked Wes turned to Rupert. "How in the
bloody hell did you...?"
 
"We must go somewhere to speak, Wes. There is quite
a bit that I have to say and it would be best that it be
discussed privately."
 
***
 
"Do you expect me to believe that load of shite?"
 
Angel shook his head as he stared into the flickering
flames one arm braced on the mantle; the other lifted
his fingers worrying at the chain around his neck. "I
don't expect you to believe anything, William."
 
"But you're saying that you're an immortal." William
pulled his legs up, his chin resting on his shaky knees.
 
"Not an immortal..." Angel whispered, "...I'm a...well
I'm a..."
 
William glanced up at Angel's hunched shoulders.
"Then what if not an immortal?"
 
"I'm immortal, but I'm a vampire." Came the solemn
reply as Angel straightened, turning back to look at
William with sorrow filled eyes.
 
A hysterical giggle escaped William as he shook his
head. "There are no such creatures as vampires. Their
creatures of legend..."
 
"That's how we survive." Angel's voice was soft and
hypnotic. "All of us...the monsters...humans don't
believe anymore, except the Council."
 
William stared with wide eyes at Angel. "The Council?
How do you know about the Council?"
 
A frown marred Angel's brow as he stepped closer to
the bed. Settling on the edge of the mattress his voice
lowered even further. "How do you know the Council?"
 
Shivering William tightened the blanket even further
around his body. "My father works for the Council."
 
"Your father?" Angel's brow rose in shock. "Who is
your father?"
 
"Not that it's any of your business, but his name is
Giles..."
 
"Rupert Giles?" Angel hissed.
 
Backing up further William seemed to try to become
one with the headboard. "Yes...how?"
 
"His fool friend Roger Pryce is the reason I lost..." his
voice trailed off as his breath hitched.
 
"Him." William's gaze drifted to the sensual portrait
above the fireplace. "How did he die?"
 
Suddenly the idea of this man in front of him being a
vampire wasn't the least bit insane. In fact, it would
explain a great deal of things that had happen-ed over
the years. His father had kept his work secret, saying
that it was national security, but that hadn't explained
the books on magic, demonology, and mythology.
 
"A slayer murdered him."
 
"A slayer? What the bloody hell is a slayer?" William
croaked out through a parched throat. He was quite
afraid of what the answer would be, but he had to ask.
 
Angel looked up with dark, bottomless eyes. "One
woman is chosen in each generation to fight the
vampires and the demons."
 
"A woman?" William whispered softly as the image of
a young woman flickered across his mind's eye.
 
"Aye...they are the chosen, stronger and faster than
common humans with the ability to heal quickly. The
first Council created them thousands of years ago when
the vampires and demons ran rampant on the earth. One
being that could fight what seemed impossible to fight."
 
"So what is the Council?"
 
Angel studied William's now relaxed yet curious face
with an intense gaze. "Your father works with them and
you don't know?"
 
"He told me it had to do with national security." Will-
iam chewed his lower lip thoughtfully. "Told me that he
couldn't discuss his work, but me mum knew."
 
Without a doubt Angel knew the young man before him
wasn't lying. He would have been able to smell it on
him if he were. It was at that moment a soft buzzing
shocked them both.
 
"My cell." William scrambled off the bed and reached
in his jacket pocket where it lay---draped over a chair---
next to the bed. He flipped it open and answered breath-
lessly, one eye still on Angel. "Danridge."
 
"Jesus, Will! Where the fuck have you been?"
 
"Faith...nice to hear from you, too." He snorted.
 
"Cut the crap, Will. What the hell is going on? Your
father showed up at my office two days ago demanding
to know where you were. He was freaking really bad."
 
William's eyes widened as he clutched the phone closer
to his ear. "My dad? What did you tell him?" He
whispered, glancing at Angel who seemed to be
studying the pattern on the comforter.
 
"I told him where you were. What the hell did you think
I would do? Why haven't you been answering your
phone? I must have left a million messages." A worried
sigh drifted over the line. "Will are you in trouble? Tara
told me you had Red researching your birth place."
 
Groaning William ran one trembling hand through his
tousled hair, his head dropping back against the wall.
"Do all you women do is gossip? Bloody hell...Faith
where is my father?"
 
"He's probably in New York by now. He was going on
about the past coming back to bite you in the ass. You'd
tell me if you were in trouble---wouldn't you?"
 
"Of course, Faith." His voice lowered. "You know
that's a silly question."
 
Silence greeted his reply, then a faint clearing of Faith's
throat. "Is it another woman, Will? Cause that's fine...
just don't lie to me. It's not like we're married or
engaged. Just a bit of fun on the side---remember?
Friends with benefits."
 
William chuckled softly. "Yeah...friends."
 
"I gotta go sugar..." Faith whispered, "...call me---
okay? Call me no matter what."
 
"Okay, pet." William's eyes drifted shut as he sighed.
"You okay?"
 
"Yeah...five by five." Faith chuckled. "What about
you?"
 
"Five by five, luv. Later."
 
"Later."
 
He flipped the phone shut as he released a breath he
didn't know he'd been holding.
 
"You okay?"
 
His eyes drifted open to focus on Angel. "Not sure. Not
sure at all...about anything."
 
***
 
Pushing the door open Darla sighed as her gaze settled
on Drusilla, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the
huge curtained four-post bed. Around her sat a number
of dolls, most porcelain, and their glass eyes fixed
accusing-ly on her.
 
Drusilla lifted her gaze from the doll in her lap and
smiled at Darla. "Oh...there you are grand-mummy.
Dolly was quite worried about you..." her dark vacant
gaze drifted back to the doll in question, "...weren't
you, dolly?"
 
A few steps and Darla was at the table next to the
window setting down the tray she was carrying. "I
brought you dinner." She stepped back glancing at Dru
with barely suppressed disgust.
 
"Dinner?" Drusilla's voice took on a singsong quality
as she slid from the bed in a cloud of velvet and lace.
Her eyes sparkled as she clutched her doll with its
golden curls tightly to her chest. "Pig? Silly grand-
mummy pigs are filthy creatures. I believe dolly and I
want to go hunting tonight. Don't we dolly?" She
questioned the doll as she whirled in a circle to an aria
of her own making. "Fresh and sweet like the baker's
biscuits...drizzled with icing and filled with cream."
 
Darla moved to the chair next to table, slumping into
the seat. "Dru you can't go hunting again."
 
With a hiss, Drusilla turned on Darla, her eyes flashing
gold. "I shall do as the stars say! Dolly and I must be
well fed on sweetmeats for the poor little prince with
golden curls is soon to dance with daddy."
 
Gaze drifting from the floor to Drusilla's mad gaze
Darla swallowed hard. "Angelus? He knows what
Angelus is."
 
"Daddy is no more...nasty soul..." Drusilla pouted as
she curled her fingers in her long dark hair. "Daddy is
hiding in the bad man with wings. Dolly and I must
release him from the dark place so we can play again."
 
Sighing Darla shook her head. "And exactly how do
you suppose you will do that, Dru."
 
A shimmer of gold drifted across Drusilla's eyes as her
face shifted ridges rippling along her forehead. "Sing-
ing...the stars were singing about the sweetest of
biscuits. Take a sweet biscuit and dip into it's filling.
Taste the sweet fruit of the prince's heart."
 
Soft crazed laughter exploded from Drusilla as she
whirled around the room.
 
***
 
Romania
1898
 
Angelus stood in the pouring rain, sniffing at the air for
a sign of his childe and lover. After confronting Darla
he'd stormed down to the basement and tried to coax
William from his hiding place. It had all been to no
avail though as he watched his beautiful boy cringe and
scuttle against the earthen walls.
 
No longer did he look into those deep cobalt eyes and
see joy, want, need, hunger, and lust. All he could see
was madness and guilt. Guilt that was deeper than the
deepest ocean. Guilt that had been brought about by
Darla's intense need to destroy the only thing Angelus
had ever loved in either his mortal or immortal life.
 
Darla was nothing, but a jealous and conniving whore
and now that he understood what she had done his fury
had no bounds.
 
"William!" Angelus roared his voice echoing through
the darkness. "Do not be fearin' me beautiful boy. I'd
never be hurtin' you me sweet childe. 'Tis not ye fault
what that whore Darla had done."
 
For a moment, he thought he caught a faint scent of his
childe and then it was lost once more on the storm torn
wind. He growled in frustration as his dark eyes scann-
ed the trees.
 
"Why must you waste your time on that ensouled beast
my dear boy?"
 
Angelus turned with a roar, his face shifting, eyes
glowing with flecks of amber fire. "Harlot! Ye did this
to keep us apart! Jealous whore!" His fists clenched as
he stepped closer to his sire.
 
From beneath the hood of her cloak, Darla peered with
blue-gold eyes, her lips curling in a smug smile. "I am
your sire, Angelus. As your sire, I should be the center
of your world, but you forgot that one small rule. You
allowed that whorish upstart to take your attentions
from your maker and that, my dear boy, I will not
allow!"  
 
"Allow? Allow? Are ye mad woman? I am a master
vampire in me own right! I've sired three childer in me
time and I'll not be letting you address me as a mere
fledgling!" Angelus stepped closer with quickness that
caught Darla off guard. His fingers tightened around
her throat, digging into the pale flawless skin.
 
"It matters not Angelus! I am still she who sired you
and for my gift of the eternal you will..."
 
Angelus snarled lifting her off her feet, her tiny satin
clad feet dangling from beneath the edge of her cloak as
she thrashed in a fury. "Does not be matterin' to me
what ye chose to do with that ugly pisser of a sire that
gave you the eternal kiss! I unlike ye have a wee mind
of me own!"
 
Her blue eyes flashed gold as her hood fell back, the
rain soaking her silken curls, and plastering them
against her head. "You dare speak of the Master as if
you are superior?"
 
"Aye, love I do!" Angelus growled deep in his throat as
Darla swung out one dainty foot just missing his groin.
 
"I shall teach you the true place of a childe!" Darla
snarled as she finally broke Angelus' grip on her throat.
 
"Will ye now?" Dark laughter rippled through Angelus
as he backhanded Darla.
 
Her face shifted to her demon visage with crackling of
bone and the fight was on. Each blow she thrust upon
her childe was met with an equal blow and as the battle
played out Darla began to fear.
 
She feared she had underestimated the hold William
had over Angelus. Perhaps she had been to soft on
Angelus because of her own desires. She had chose him
over the Master when confronted with a choice, but her
sire had allowed it where as she could not imagine
letting her dear boy free.
 
A sudden slap sent her hurling into a tree, her head
spinning as she slowly slid to the ground. Before she
could hit she found herself pinned to the rough bark of
the tree trunk her childe smiling at her in a dark manner
that boded ill.
 
"Angelus..." she moaned.
 
One ridged brow rose as Angelus' smile widened
revealing sharp glistening incisors. He cocked his head
to the side licking his own blood from his split lip.
 
"Aye...was yours once Darla, but now you'll be letting
me go."
 
He leaned forward his breath caressing her face.
 
"You never let go of your humanity completely did you
my childe..." she gasped through a constricted throat.
 
Chuckling Angelus leaned closer his tongue rasping
against a slash on her cheek. "I seem to recall you
wanting me for that reason, love." He whispered in her
ear as he nipped her throat. "Me darkness was the
reason you were drawn to me in the first place---now
wasn't it?"
 
"Yes..." she moaned, "...you were so beautiful...like a
panther on the hunt.
 
"Aye...you've told me that before. But ye seemed to
have forgotten something my love." Angelus hissed
softly.
 
Panting Darla opened her eyes to look into Angelus'
exquisitely demonic face. "And what would that be my
dear boy?"
 
Angelus lifted a broken piece of wood, a branch from
one of the ancient trees. He cocked his head again with
a smile, as her eyes grew wide in realization. Before she
could draw an unneeded breath to speak, she felt the
sharp wood pierce her heart.
 
As Darla exploded in a swirl of gray ash Angelus
stepped back dropping the weapon to the muddy
ground.
 
"I killed me own family for far less."
 
Turning he walked away.
 
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/