Sweet William

AUTHOR: Little Mouse (elf_night@hotmail.com)


DISCLAIMER: Yes, they're Joss'. Stop rubbing it in!

WARNINGS: For violence and language and explicit, vampiric, m/m yummy bits.

ARCHIVE: Please ask first.

SUMMARY: Drusilla, in an effort to return Spike to being her 'dark prince', tries to change him back to the way he was when he was called William the Bloody. It doesn't work out quite the way she expected. This story is slightly AU as per vampire lore, and Angel is Spike's Sire.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Xander,” Willow said softly as he finished off the last bite of his sandwiches and started to pick up the game controller again, “I really think that it’s all a bad idea.”

Xander tried not to sigh.  Willow had been very quiet while he was eating; he’d known she was thinking things over, but he’d hoped she had accepted some of his reasons and come to a different conclusion.

“Wils,” he said, holding the controller so he’d have something to do with his hands, without actually starting the game back up, “I know that you’re worried, but...”

“Xander!” A familiar voice shouted, and he suddenly found himself with a lapful of laughing, denim-clad vampire.  “You’re here earlier than I thought you’d be.”

“And you’re up later than I thought you’d be,” Xander said, grinning down at William.  “What’s up with that?  You always used to have too much energy to just lay around in bed?”

“Ha!  I’ve been up for over an hour,” William replied, removing himself from Xander’s lap to sit on the floor beside him, snagging the controller out of his hands.

“Then where have you - uh, never mind.”  Xander started to ask where he’d been, but about that time Angel came down the stairs, still running his fingers through damp hair and with a certain satisfied look on his face that told Xander everything he needed to know.

“Hello, Xander, Willow,” Angelus nodded at them politely.  “William, what are you doing?”

“Stealing Xander’s game,” the younger vampire replied promptly.

“Hey!” the human boy protested, diving for the controller and trying to wrestle it away from him.  “No fair, Spike!  I’ve been playing for hours to get that far!”

“But your player is unhappy!” William laughed, tucking the controller against his stomach and turning his back.  “His wife left him while you were busy eating!  He wants to commit suicide now!”

“Spike!!!” Xander yelled, yanking him flat on the floor and grabbing the controller.

William was laughing too hard to stop him.  “He’s depressed!  Manic depression!  His dog got run over!  His car was vandalized and spray painted with smiley faces!  His boss fired him!  The bank stole his savings! He has a gun!  He just wants it to be over!”

“Spike, that’s not funny!” Xander protested, but he was grinning widely.

“It’s really not,” Willow looked rather horrified.  “You shouldn’t tease about things like that, Spike.”

“All right, all right,” William grumbled, his good humor fading.  

“So,” Xander carefully saved his game and then turned off the television and game box.  “What are you - we - whatever - doing tonight?  Getting rid of Ian?”

“Most definitely,” Angelus growled, his eyes flashing gold again.

“I dunno, maybe we should leave him around for one more night,” William said, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.  “He has his uses.”

“William,” his Sire said warningly, although his eyes lit up with amusement, “I can and will spank you for that.”

“Promise?” William asked cheekily, making Xander snort and Willow gasp.

Angelus just laughed.  “Where is Wesley?” he asked, taking pity on a wide-eyed, shocked looking Willow and changing the subject.  Really, the girl had a female lover of her own; she shouldn’t be so surprised by William’s teasing.  

“He was in the kitchen with Cordy and Fred,” Xander said.  “They were having dinner.”

“And Gunn?”

“Charles is out scouting for Ian’s location,” Wesley said, entering the room since he’d heard Angelus ask for him.

“Is he checking old houses and cemeteries?” William asked, moving to sit on the arm of the couch, next to his Sire.  “‘Cause he thinks he’s Dracula, I swear.  He wears a cape even inside and calls any humans he can keep ‘Renfield.’”

“Exactly how well do you know him?” Angelus asked, feeling the same jealousy from the night before swelling up in his chest.  Damn it all, William was his, Spike was his; he wasn’t going to allow another Master to even think about him!  If he’d known Ian was sniffing after his pretty young Childe, he would have staked him for it even when he’d still been completely Angel.

“Drusilla and I stayed with the Harrovian clan for a couple of years after Darla finally got tired of us,” William said easily.  “That was when Valdor was still their High Master, before that little red-haired Slayer from Belgium staked him.  Ian was his Third or Fourth Childe, I don’t remember which.  He was such a pain in the arse, though.  Even Dru hated him.  And when that movie with Bela Lugosi as Dracula came out, he just got worse.”

“You weren’t still staying with them?” Angelus asked sharply.  Darla had left his Childer in Amsterdam about ten years after he had gotten his soul; the movie William was talking about hadn’t come out for decades after that.

“No, but all kinds of vampires went to see that when it first started playing,” William said, his eyes lighting up with amusement.  “It was like the comedy of the century for us!  Except Ian didn’t get it, he thought everyone was going to see it because they admired Dracula, so he started dressing that way.  He even talked like him for a little while.”

“Moron,” Xander said decisively.

“Yeah,” William nodded, leaning over to rest against his Sire’s sturdy shoulder.  “The only time he stopped being Dracula was when Anne Rice first starting publishing those vampire books.  He was pretending to be Lestat for a while until other Masters started pounding him just on principal.  Then he went back to being Dracula.”

Angelus felt like his blood was about to start boiling.  “William,” he said, fighting to keep his voice calm, “how do you know he was acting like Lestat if you only stayed with them for a few years?  There’s quite a gap between the Lugosi Dracula movie and Anne Rice’s novels.”

“Yes, but we saw him in - hmm, I think it was Paris.  Or was it somewhere in Germany?  Anyway, he was all dressed up like that poof and Drusilla thought it was ‘lovely’, until she realized who he was.”

“Who he was as in, it was Lestat, or it was Ian?” asked Wesley, who was actually scribbling some notes in a small book.

“As in Ian.  She liked Lestat, though she said he ‘did things wrong.’  I don’t think she quite grasped the idea that it was make-believe; a novel.  Like I said, though, even she couldn’t stand Ian.  He’s such a pompous arse.”

Angelus felt a bit - a very little bit - of the jealousy ease.  William obviously despised Ian, so the other Master wouldn’t have had much of a chance with him.  Still, Ian had wanted him, and William had been just barely over his fledgling years, and far from being a Master, when Darla had so ruthlessly abandoned them, without even the excuse of a soul to pardon her behavior.  Even in the vampire world, for a GrandSire to leave ‘orphaned’ GranChilder behind like that was considered a crime - it was no surprise at all that so little fuss had been made when he staked her.  Staking one’s Sire was usually a serious matter, but he had barely heard an echo of protest from the Aurelius clan.

His further thoughts were interrupted when the front door opened and Gunn came in.

“Did you find him?” Wesley asked, tucking his little book back into a shirt pocket.

“Yeah,” Gunn said, grinning at him, “he’s hanging out in some old house that looks like it came from a horror movie set.”

“See?” William asked, talking to no one in particular.

“Could you tell how many minions he has?”  Angelus asked.

“Probably two dozen,” Gunn replied, slumping in a chair and happily accepting the sandwich and coffee that Fred, blushing shyly, brought him.  “I think maybe he’s got another Master or one of his own kids with him.  There was a different vamp givin’ the minions orders.”

“What did they look like?”  William asked.

“Was a tall guy, blond hair, pretty big,” Gunn replied, pausing to take a bite of his sandwich.  He chewed and swallowed before continuing.  “Hair cut short, and was wearing old-fashioned clothes.”

“All of Ian’s Childer do until they get away from him,” William said.  “The ones that don’t go nuts, anyway.  He’s a terrible Sire.  Valdor used to beat him for it, but he never learned how to take care of them properly.  I think that the one Gunn saw is actually his Brother.  If it is, his name is Hunter and he’s younger than Ian, but twice as smart.”

“I take it you know him well?” Angelus’ voice had a deep rumble to it that William didn’t understand until he looked into his Sire’s eyes.  

And saw that jealousy gazing back at him again.

For a moment, he was tempted to play on that jealousy, feed it and get another night like the night before - but he found himself sadly unable to do it.  He couldn’t leave his Sire that upset, even though the part of him that was still Spike howled with glee that he could have done it.  

“Pretty well, yes.  He was absolutely nutters over Drusilla - he followed her everywhere and was always asking me questions about what she liked and what he could bring her and if she ever mentioned him.”

“Ah - he wanted Drusilla?  How did she react?”  The question was casual, like Angelus was just asking it for the sake of looking interested.  

William was almost sure he saw relief in his Sire’s eyes, but he wouldn’t have mentioned it for worlds.  “She was too busy getting the Harrovian seamstress - Valdor had turned one as a Childe specifically for her talents with a needle - to make new clothes for Miss Edith.  She never noticed Hunter at all.  She was obsessed over lace and silk and velvet.”

“I can imagine,” Angelus was amused, remembering the way his Daughter obsessed over that doll with a fondness that he had rarely felt when she was alive.  He’d found it much more irritating than amusing, then.  “So, this Hunter - is he a Master?”
William nodded.  “Barely - Ian keeps a pretty firm control over him.  He knows if he let Hunter reach his full potential, then he’d lose his place as High Master of the Harrovians.  The others would all put their support behind Hunter - he’s got a brain, and is less willing to throw everyone into battles they can’t hope to win.  Ian never thinks about consequences.”

“Obviously,” Angelus growled, then got up.  “Enough talking.  Let’s go take care of him.  Maybe Hunter will be the High Master - before the night’s out.”

*

“This is where he’s staying?!”  Xander stared up at the house, his eyes wide.

“I told you,” William shrugged, beside him.

The run-down mansion sat atop one of the few small hills in Sunnydale - with its tower, wrap-around porch, balconies and gables, it looked for all the world like the haunted house on the intro to the old ‘Scooby Doo’ cartoons.  Xander had even taken a picture of it once, had it framed and hung on his bedroom wall.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered.

William laughed.  “You wait until we’re inside - he’ll have spiderwebs and old pictures and run down furniture and all.”

“Wish I’d brought my camera.”

“Wesley’ll take pictures for you, if you ask him.”

“Think so?”

“Yeah, he’s got one of those cell phones with a camera in it.”

“Those things are cool!”

“Will you two shut up?” Buffy asked, glaring at them.  She hadn’t been invited along, but Giles had known what Angel was planning for tonight and was determined not to miss seeing two Masters fight again.  He’d brought Buffy and Willow with him without even telling Angelus he was coming - a fact which didn’t exactly please the vampire.

“Don’t have to,” William replied, contemplating sticking his tongue out at her and dismissing the idea as childish.  Fun, but childish.  
“You’re going to give us away,” she hissed, “they’ll hear you and know we’re here!”

“They already know we’re here,” Angelus broke in on the conversation.  “They’re vampires; they sensed us and they sensed you while we were all still two blocks away.  They should be sending out an emissary any time now.”

“So we’ve lost any chance to sneak up on them?” Buffy asked, looking distinctly put out.

“Sneaking up on them was never part of the plan, anyway,” her ex replied cooly.  “You might have known that, if your Watcher had bothered to ask.”

“Why didn’t you just tell him?” she shot back, determined not to be outdone.

“Why should I?  He’s not part of my plan.”

“Angel,” Wesley’s voice interrupted, “here comes your emissary.”

He jerked around to see a tall, lean blond vampire, dressed in what looked like Victorian-era clothing, come strolling out of the mansion and start on his way down the hill, flanked by a half-dozen minions.

“William?  Is that...?”

“That’s Hunter,” William nodded, moving over to stand on his Sire’s right side.  “Ian’s Brother and Second-in-Command.”

Angelus moved his feet slightly and something - some vague, intangible shift in his attitude - had all the humans blinking at him.  He went from being calm, quiet, self-assured Angel to a being that absolutely radiated power and menace.

Beside him, William smiled.  His Sire was going to show Angelus off - this ought to be fun.

Hunter stopped when he was about ten feet away.  “Angelus of Aurelius,” he said politely, inclining his head.

“Hunter of Harrovian,” Angelus replied, his voice just as polite.

“And William,” Hunter turned his attention to the smaller vampire.  “I never thought to see you here!  Ian told me some garbled story of Elsa and a spell, but I’m afraid most of it was beyond me.  I’m pleased to see you, though a bit confused.”  His eyes shifted over the group.  “Is Drusilla not with you?”

“No,” Angelus replied for his Childe, putting a possessive arm around his boy’s shoulders.  He remembered that this vampire had been enamored of Drusilla, so he chose not to abruptly blurt out the story of her death.  “She is not with us now.”
“Ah, too bad.”  Hunter looked distinctly disappointed.  “I would have enjoyed seeing her again.  Such a charming vampiress.  Still, it’s quite nice to see William, and meet his Sire.”

Angelus spared a glare for Buffy, who was shifting with impatience during this polite exchange.  He hoped the Slayer would control herself; he hadn’t invited her, but Hunter didn’t know that and any stupid mistake she made would be considered his fault.  “We have come to discuss your Master’s presence here,” he said, bypassing what would usually be more polite conversation and getting to the point before the girl exploded.

“I see,” Hunter said, looking almost remorseful.  “I’m afraid my Brother has plans for your little HellMouth, since he couldn’t Claim the Childe.”

“Both of them are mine,” Angelus snarled, tightening his arm around William, “and I will not tolerate any attempts to take either.”

“I told him you would feel that way,” Hunter said, sighing softly and giving Angelus a clear example of what William had meant, that Hunter had brains and Ian didn’t.  It was obvious that this vampire knew there was about to be major trouble.

“Too bad you couldn’t convince him,” Angelus deliberately allowed his voice to sound bored - because he had caught a glimpse of Ian and the rest of the minions moving through the shadows of a side garden, apparently trying to surprise them by appearing out of nowhere.  “Now I have the irritation of a second-rate Master to deal with.”

“Who are you calling second-rate?” Ian spat angrily, jumping out of the garden and succeeding in making some of the humans jump.

William and Angelus didn’t even flinch.

“You, of course - didn’t you understand me the first time?  I’ve already beat your head into the ground once, and the Slayer knocked you half a block down the street after I left with my Childe.”

“That wasn’t fair,” Ian said hotly, “Elsa shouldn’t have pulled the Rules on us like that!  I should have been able to have a fight with you in front of the Childe, and shown him I was well able to protect him!”

“You still want to Claim him,” Angelus growled, his eyes lighting up with fury.  He pushed William gently away from him, toward Xander and Wesley.  “This isn’t about the HellMouth; you really just want my William.”

“I deserve to be able to Claim that Childe - my minions found him first, and he never got the chance to properly refuse my offer before you were gnawing a mark into his neck!  Do you know how high my ranking in our society will go if I have a Childe that lovely by my side?”

“He ‘refused’ your offer when he accepted mine, and much of the fighting would have been moot, since I happen to have been the one to turn him, in the first place!” Angelus snarled.  “You do realize that if you persist in this, you’ll be declared a Lore-Breaker and cast out of the society you so obviously wish to impress?!”

“I won’t be a Lore-Breaker if I can Claim that boy correctly,” Ian nearly purred his reply, “and I can do that freely when he’s an abandoned fledge - and he will be - just as soon as you are dead.”