Rated: Hmm... I hate rating stuff R. It makes me feel so dirty! And I hardly rate anything R, so lets say... mature audience. We are talking about Angelus here, right?
Disclaimer: I own didly squat! So Raspberries! Raspberries! Respberries! And I don't care if I spelt that wrong, so there! Humph!
Spoilers: Let's see.... if you don't know go back to my first posting of this series and read what I have there.
Dristibuation: On any B/A fic site, I don't care, just let me know, okay?
Summery: Guess! C'mon! Guess! Okay, I'll give you a hint... it has to do with a poor, heartbroken poet... *sniffles.*

London, 1860

She walked through the church, dressed in white as to not draw any attention to herself. Slowly, she wondered toward confessional, sighing as she reached the small curtain sheet and flung it open.

She shook her head, "Angelus, honestly, in broad day light?"

Angelus licked his lips clean and let the priest fall from his arms. He looked up at her with an innocent look, until she smiled at him, and pulled out a hankerchief from the bodice of her dress. She leaned forward, cleaning the trail of blood that went down the side of his mouth.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her forward, closing the curtain and `confessed' his `sins' to her.

No one heard the muffle growls and purrs.

******************************************

London, 1870

Angelus stood beside his sire, gazing down at her as she scanned the crowd for there next meal. They had been together for over a hundred years, and he never grew tired of her. She always seemed to surprise him, not only on the hunt, but in bed as well.

"Angelus," Lilith started, looking up at him, "I think you need a campanion."

Her childe frowned, "A companion? I have you..." He leaned down, "You fufil all my needs..."

Lilith swatted him away, "What I meant, was a companion of the male sorts. These past years has been wonderful... but, I have noticed that you've been a bit... surrounded by females and only females. You must have felt overwhelmed when Darla came to visit us in Ireland."

"Did I mention that I don't enjoy her much?" Angelus said, glancing toward the group of men and women hurrying into the large home of Michael Huxley.

"Darling, please," Lilith murmured, staring up into his eyes, "It would please me to know that you have someone else to go hunting with..."

He eyed her, suspicously, "What do you have planned?"

She batted her eye lashes, "What makes you think I have something planned, love?"

"I just know," Angelus answered. Which was mostly true. They had learned to read one another well, and now he knew she was planning on something.

"Well," Lilith licked her lips, "if you must know... I was hoping your new childe would keep you busy... so that I may... prolong our intimate relationship..." She blew cool air into his ear.

Now he understood. She wanted to deny him of his pleasure so it would be more fufiling later on. And by doing so, he would need a distraction.

And he knew how pleasurable it would be if they waited.

"All right," Angelus took his eyes off of her, and scanned the crowd. He spotted a tall, slightly lanky young lad who was looking down, reading over something he carried in his hands. Angelus patted her hand, gesturing toward the man, "That one."

******************************************

"She still not giving you the proper attention?" Angelus asked, leaning against the wall in a alleyway.

Angelus was his only friend. William had met him two weeks ago, and had discovered a fellow poet in him. He even helped him write a few of his poems for her...

He had even encouraged him into speaking with the brunette, and he had promised Angelus that he would confront her that very night, and read the poem to her.

He had poured his heart out to her...

And she had brushed him off, faster than a racing horse.

William sighed, adjusting his glasses, "No... I doubt she'd want to spend a moment with me. She seems too infautuated with her new consort... the lucky bastard..." He looked up at Angelus who chuckled, "Pardon me." He apologized, moving toward a crate and sitting down.

He glanced at the full moon in the sky, and pulled out some paper and began to scribble down thoughts, then found that he was too depressed to even write.

William sighed.

"Well, maybe you are going about this all wrong," Angelus started, "Perhaps you should try... a more direct approach..."

William looked up from the block on the ground he had been staring at. Lifting a brow, he looked at Angelus, "Oh, yeah? Like what?"

******************************************

Weeks went by, and Angelus told Lilith of his progressing study of the young man they had come across before. His name was William, and he was a poet, a romantic who had been striving to show his affections to a young women he had admired for a long while.

After rejecting the poor lad, Angelus told Lilith that he would be changing him and would bring him to their home.

Lilith danced.

It was something she found herself doing a lot. As a mortal, Lilith had sworn off dancing. Calling it a sin, while her father had tried to explain to her that dancing was something that women and men did at social places.

Still, Lilith would not be swayed.

Now, as she danced on red rose petals, holding a plush ruby red rose in one hand, the thorns breaking the first layer of skin and leaving a trail of blood down her arm, she knew it was her soul's fear of being attacked by villagers. She did not want to be like her dead mother. An accused witch, a women people shunned.

Lilith didn't care.

She danced on the rose petals, loving the soft kisses on her feet. Her eyes closed as she brushed the rose against her neck, the thorns scraping her exposed skin, tiny drops of blood appeared.

She twirled, then arched, bringing the rose up to her nose and inhaled the mixture of blood and the scent of the rose.

Sighing, she swayed, letting the rose drop back just below her neck and held it close with both hands.

"Lilith, love."

She smiled, then slowly opened her eyes and gazed at her lover. He looked quite angered, and she sighed in satisfication; her teasing had gone right. She turned her gaze toward the new comer. He was blond, sort of a wavy short haired man. He had blood all over his shirt...

"Lilith," Angelus gritted out, "This is William. William, this angel of the night, my lover, is Lilith."

Lilith smiled at William, and stepped toward him. She took his hand and placed the rose in it, clasping his hand around the thorns and drawing blood. He didn't seem to notice. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, "Welcome to our family." Then, pulled away, smiling at him before giving Angelus a teasingly look and leaving the room.

William looked at his sire, and he returned growled softly.

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