Rating: NC-17 overall (some entries as mild as a G)
Disclaimer: While I have taken the liberty of adding a few characters of my own creation, all of the original BtVS characters and their world belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and The WB. All are used without permission (I'll return them all unharmed) and no copyright infringement is intended (like most who post, I'm broke, so please don't sue).
Spoilers: All 3 seasons of BtVS.
Summary: It's the year 2047 and Aishling Rosenberg has recently discovered that her grandmother left behind a vast collection of letters, stories, research notes, etc.
Distribution: You want it, it's yours, just let me know where it's going to be living.
Feedback: I constantly crave it. . . feed me, please!
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29 January 2001
Dearest, Why is it that when I do misbehave I always get caught? Do you have the same problem? Is it a curse upon the women in our family? All I know is that it sucks! May the Goddess Bless You and Keep You Safe. Aoífe
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*Holy Shit!*
Those were the first two words that my mind cried out as Angelus strode into the cathedral. Poor Daniel had passed-out and Angelus was carrying him. Had it not been for the state of panic I was in, I might have been tempted to capture the moment on paper; an angel of light cradled in the arms of my Angel of darkness. Oh, but my continuous need to make permanent renditions of such scenes (and then to share them) is what had gotten me into this current predicament. Well, that and a wee-bit too much coke.
But holy shit, I'd never in a million years (oh, all right, a few hundred anyway) have expected him to come walking into this church tonight. Nope . . . never.
[Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!]
How was I to know just what Daniel would say to him or that he'd misinterpret the meaning of the words? When Daniel had said "angel inside," he wasn't telling Angel to go inside. I believe he was referring to me.
We'd entered the cathedral just before 11:00pm. I'd "opened" one of the side doors so that we could wait inside. Once Angelus arrived, I'd planned on giving him a few minutes alone with his thoughts, then I was going to send Daniel out to deliver my last drawing. That's it. That is all I had planned.
We'd only gone inside in the first place because I wanted Daniel to have some place warm to rest while we waited.
I'd been naughty. Okay, down right wicked. I'd bled him again, this time taking much more.
We'd sat down on a bench in the old graveyard adjacent to the cathedral. This time I made no attempts at disguising my true nature or my intentions. I put aside my shaded glasses, letting my eyes shine in the dim light surrounding the cemetery. Then I turned toward Daniel with an alluring smile on my lips, a smile which did nothing to hide my fangs.
I was really surprised when he didn't bolt. I could see the fear in his eyes, but he remained seated.
"Oh, sweet Jesus," he cried softly. "Are you going to kill me?"
"Of course not," I replied reassuringly. I was trying to be as nonchalant as is possible in a situation like this.
"I would have done that hours ago if it had been my intention."
The look on Daniel's face said he wasn't sure if he should be thankful or insulted. I couldn't help but laugh. Now he almost looked hurt.
"I'm sorry," I said as I stifled my laughter. "I don't usually toy with those who are kind enough to share their blood with me. I certainly don't go around killing them."
"Then you only want *some* of my blood . . . for food?"
"Oh, if only it were something so noble as that. No, I want your blood for the coke. I stole a small hit when we kissed in the coffee shop. Now I'd like more. If you don't mind, that is."
I'd left it up to him. I gave him the chance to say no. I can't tell you what I would have done if he had denied my request. But that's a moot point.
"Will I become like you?"
"No."
"Will it hurt?"
I took hold of his left arm and pushed up the sleeve of his overcoat, exposing the crook of his elbow and the old track-marks he wore there.
"No more than these did," I offered. "You just may feel a little cold or sleepy afterwards. I won't take much. You may not even notice any side-effects. You forgot about cutting your tongue, didn't you?"
Daniel looked puzzled. He really didn't remember.
"I told you. When we kissed earlier, your tongue was sliced open when you ran it over one of my fangs and, well, I drank what blood came into my mouth before the cut healed. Now I'm asking you, may I have some more, please?"
"Oh." That's all he said. I knew he needed a little time to think it over.
He just stared into my eyes for a long time. It took a lot of self-control not to bewitch him in anyway. I really wanted to know what his honest answer would be. After all, I'd never before asked a stranger to "donate" some of their blood. I was curious. After a few minutes, his gaze dropped to my fangs and paused there for a moment before he looked back up. He gave a slight consensual nod, then tipped his head, baring the side of his neck for me.
"I think that would be just a bit obvious. Don't you agree?" I said with a smile.
I lifted his still exposed arm, bringing it parallel with my mouth, but not too close, yet.
"How about if I just take it from here? Then you won't have any marks to cover up. They'll blend in with your old ones."
"All right," he said.
And that was that. He said yes. I took what I wanted, then we moved inside.
That's when this whole "angel" mix-up started.
Daniel and I were seated in a pew along the side aisle near the middle of the church. We were looking about, admiring and commenting on the works of art displayed in the old cathedral. I'll admit, Daniel had seemed a bit dazed. The reduced volume of his blood must have made the coke in his system more potent. It made him slow and quiet.
That is until he spied something on the opposite side of the church. Suddenly he was excited, bouncing in his seat and pointing like a little boy.
"Ooh, ooh, look . . . you're an angel!" And that must have struck him as very funny, now knowing that I'm a vampire, because he started to giggle uncontrollably.
And sure enough, as I looked toward where his finger pointed, there was a painting of the Virgin Mary with an angel standing behind her. The angel had long red hair that flowed about a face which held vivid green eyes; my hair, my eyes, my face!
[Damn, guess I'm going to have to start avoiding romantic entanglements with the artistic types! For all I know, there are more pictures of me scattered about the globe.]
But, I already had every intention of limiting all my tangling of any kind to the malefic beauty that had just boldly walked into this church.
He didn't even realize that he still wore the face of the demon. Or he didn't care, and I liked what *that* might mean . . .
Angelus began to make a careful survey of his surroundings and I had to move quickly into the shadows. After ascertaining that the immediate area was safe, he moved forward and gently laid Daniel down in the last pew. I saw him check the boy's pulse and respiration. Then he examined Daniel's neck.
[Hah, nothing! So there.]
But next Angelus pushed back Daniel's coat sleeves and uncovered . . . nothing. Again, no telltale marks. The puncture wounds I'd inflicted had been small and healed quickly. By now they would be blending in perfectly with the track-marks that were already there. I was a bit insulted that he thought I'd be so careless as to leave any obvious physical evidence that might link me to my crime.
Angelus
was mumbling to himself as he rearranged the boy's coat sleeves. I couldn't
make out the words. He's well aware of just how keen a vampire's hearing
is and I'm sure he gauged the volume of his voice accordingly. It was the
tone of his voice that let me know he was annoyed and had not been fooled
by my cover-up. Still, he must have been satisfied with Daniel's current
physical condition because he stood then and without hesitation, he walked
down the center aisle toward the middle of the cathedral.
My and wasn't he a sight to behold! His face was contorted and discolored. His lips were pulled back in a feral grimace, revealing a mouth full of sharp teeth, two of which were elongated and pointed, of course. Even his eyes had changed color. No longer that rich chocolate color I have at times lost myself in, they were now an almost putrid shade of yellow and when the light hit them, they glowed much the way an animal's eyes will glow when caught in the glare of an oncoming car's headlights.
I was fascinated, to say the least. Okay, I'll say more. I was at once both frightened and sexually aroused.
I'd never seen him like this before, with the demon exposed. At least not with my eyes. I'd seen it in my mind, in the visions that I'd drawn. And I knew it by touch. For so many of years he'd spent in the darkness with Acathla, he'd worn that visage almost exclusively. If I closed my eyes now, I could remember every ridge and rough surface of his face, each jagged edge in his mouth.
But I didn't dare close my eyes! I had to get out of there! The golden glow of his eyes was starting to drive my wild. God, I knew only too well what it would be like to have those eyes hunt for you in the darkness, the pain and the pleasure he could inflict. I wanted to flee and I was determined to stay.
He was just so damn magnificent! Here, in this world, he was proud and forceful. You could feel the power he emitted, like a signal warning all others of like nature's to stay clear. He was the dominant here and to challenge his claim meant certain death. I'd never felt this much power come from a male before. Even his own Master would have paled in comparison. And what really astounded me was that I knew he was completely unaware of the strength he possessed.
He'd stopped in the aisle, almost directly across from me. The only thing separating us was a row of pews. I pulled my self back even further into the shadows, making myself one of them.
Angelus must have regained some of his composure because his demonic visage melted back into the face of the man I knew and loved. Not that a part of me didn't love the demon as well. You can't spend that much time alone with a man and his alter ego and not come away loving them both to some degree.
As I watched Angelus from my hiding place, I saw that he continued to move with the same lethal and sovereign grace that he exuded while wearing his other face. This was not the creature I'd come to know during any of our previous encounters. In the time since Acathla had released him, Angelus had changed again. He no longer lived with two distinct personalities trapped within him. They'd been amalgamated, forced to unite, to merge into one being. Or at least that was the direction in which he appeared to be heading. I can only try to imagine what kind of inner strength and courage that had required.
He'd then made a complete 360 degree survey of the cathedral. When he stopped, he was again staring in my direction and I feared for a moment that now my eyes were the ones glowing in the darkness. I actually squeezed them shut until I heard him speak. Then I couldn't keep them from flying open.
"I know you're still in here. You can't hide from me for long."
[Yah, buddy, that's what you think . . . ]
"I can smell you, you silly woman. Calla lilies and greens, a bit of sweet moss. It's beautiful, you know? And easy to separate from the smells of hot wax and incense."
He waved his latest drawing under his nose, for effect.
"You left some of your fragrance on the paper, too. You've never really done that before. Nothing this pretty, anyway. Usually just the scent of whatever soap you'd recently used."
[Man, but he's observant. Had I really expected any less?]
"But I liked the smell of your soaps, too. I love soaps. Did you know that? Oh, but you must. You obviously know so much else about me. My passion for scented soaps and hot showers must not be a secret. At least not from you! Gee, maybe you can even tell me how it started, my obsession with soap, that is."
[Yah, you smart ass, maybe I could! What the hell got you on your soap box, anyway? Oh, a pun . . . bad. But I mean, for one who is supposedly a man of few words, you're sure rambling on. What gives? Are you trying to bait me? Or are you just nervous?]
And still he continued on.
"You know what I am. You know I can smell you and hear you. You're trying to breathe quietly but it's so difficult. Isn't it? You're scared. Your heart is racing."
[Right, you fool! You must be confusing me with a human. Hah, I may have forgotten about the perfume and I'll do nothing to mask that scent now. What would be the point? But you underestimate me in all other respects. Do you really think I'd leave you with any more clues, any other human characteristics to track me with? Why am I still standing here? This isn't some game. I need to get out.]
"Can you smell me, too?" he asked, his voice thick with - what? Lust or loathing?
It must have been the coke combined with my desire to be near him because, so help me God, I never meant to speak. The word was out of my mouth before I even thought it.
"Yes," I sighed.
I was amazed by the speed with which Angelus propelled himself from the spot where he stood to the spot from which my voice had sounded.
Lucky for me, I move faster (even when stoned). By the time he reached the area I'd occupied, it was empty.
As he looked about wildly, I didn't even try to suppress the little laughter that bubbled out of me. He had such a look of consternation on his face. It was adorable, to me anyway. He wasn't too pleased and let out a growl of frustration, so that I'd know how he felt.
"Tisk, tisk, down boy," I chided.
"I will find you. You can't hide in the shadows forever. That's my game."
"Oh, you may lurk, sir, but you'll never really be one of the shadows. You're too beautiful for that."
Displaying a renewed sense of aplomb that I felt sure his inner self was presently lacking, Angelus made his way slowly toward the corner in which I now stood. He looked so good. I was half tempted to let him catch me.
"Please, I just want to see you, to talk with you," he spoke softly as he walked.
[New approach; nice try. But I've got to be going now. Game's over.]
"Did I frighten you? I'm sorry if I did." His voice was soothing and meant to erase any fear I might have had.
"I would never hurt you."
[Huh, what a lie! But you don't know that, do you?]
"Won't you please come out?"
He was practically in front of me when I slipped out of the corner and past him.
"You know, I can see you now, " he said with a false air of confidence.
Just before moving into the shadows created by the corner, Angelus stopped and stood ramrod straight. I saw his fists ball at his sides. His jaw clenched tight as though he were trying to bite down on his emotions. He knew I'd escaped him. And he was pissed.
As I slipped into the area directly behind him, I watched in wonder as Angelus' posture shifted again. His whole body seemed to relax when I entered his personal space. It was as though my physical proximity had a calming effect on him.
I moved in as close as I could without actually touching him. I allowed my respiration to resume and as I raised myself on my tiptoes, the moist warmth of the breath I exhaled blazed a trail up the cool, alabaster column that was his neck. I saw his lips part in anticipation of . . . what? A kiss? A bite? Which did he desire more? I wondered.
By then, the temptation to touch him was too great.
I used just the very tip of my tongue to trace the gentle curve of his ear. It was so delicious and cold that I couldn't resist a small nibble on the lobe. I think I heard him moan as I whispered in his ear.
"Liar."
End
Entry Fifteen