Angel leaned back against the window frame again, wrapping one long leg
under him to peer out at the garden below.
He felt like a vouyer, an old, dirty man, eavsedropping on children;
and in a sense, he was.
He had left his window seat overlooking the blackened sea when he heard
voices in his - the - garden. Voices and
laughter and the unconstrained, carefree sounds of lovers. He watched
as Druscilla chased a half nude Spike around
the overgrown bushes, pelting him with flower petals as she divested
herself of her own clothing. He watched as they
rolled through the grass; pale, gleaming gods in the light of the
Wind Moon. He watched as she climbed up into the old
fountain, her shapely legs purposefully kicking water up into the
amused countenance of her lover.
He watched and his chest tightened, and the small hairs stood up on his arms.
Spike had been so certain, so sure ,,,*he* isnt here, Sire,,, the younger
man
had said, only an hour before. Angel wasnt so convinced. This was *his*
house. These were his rooms, his food and
drink, his bed.
His lovers.
And although Angel had been invited to join them, he had hesitated. No,
he had out and out refused. The danger of it
rippled through his skin like firewater. He had a difficult enough
time keeping Angelus at bay when he had sex with
Spike. He had no idea what would happen if he let him out to play
with both he and Dru.
No, Spike had been dead wrong. *He* was here. Because he was always here.
And the house, the garden, the
memories, they were just convenient excuses. Angelus was awake and
aware every moment, even while Angel had to
sleep. *He* never did.
Angel watched as William stripped completely, and followed Dru into the
knee high water, ducking behind a marble
angel carrying a watering spout. Dru stood under the spray, her blue
black locks catching the droplets first, before
throwing back her head to let the fierce stream course between her
pale breasts.
William sprang upon her then, and together, they tumbled back into the
cool water, laughing. It struck Angel then what
hurt so much about this scene. It wasnt seeing Will happy with someone
else. He loved his Childe enough that he
could never begrudge him that. Rather, it was the kind of happiness
he was witnessing here. It was almost like--- life.
William and Dru had never had that, not when Angelus was around them,
nor after he left them. The
emotional wreckage he dallied in so casually had seen to that.
And it didnt matter to Angel that Spike swore up and down it was all fine
with him in the end, because it had all given
him Dru. Of all the harm his demon had inflicted, this sin was unforgivable.
This one alone was worth the price of
admission to Hell.
He watched the pair in the garden begin to kiss, his minds eye filling
in the details even his preternatural vision couldnt
make out in the distance and the darkness. He saw the tongues dancing
over wet, red lips, the hands curling in wet,
shiny hair. He heard the small sighs and whimpers, followed by low
pitched grunts and growls as the demons within
them awoke. He smelled the heady aroma of male and female arousal,
and the sharp, sweet tang of vampire blood.
And the longer Angel watched, and the more the he thought about it, the
more he realized something else. He felt
abandoned.
He *was* jealous. He *was* angry. And those feelings didnt spring from
his demon. They sprang from him. From his
soul.
He laid his head back on the wall as emotions overtook him, and somehow,
knowing that they were being urged along
and even magnified by the Essence Demon didnt help one small
bit.
**{{.....I enjoyed the dreams, Cordy.....}}
Angelus had held Druscilla down on the bed once, and with Will helplessly
tied to a chair watching, lathered the area
between her legs with warm, soapy water. He shaved off all of her
dark pubic hair with a straight razor. Clean and
smooth. Angel couldnt even remember now what she had done to incur his
wrath. Probably paid too much attention to
Will, and not enough to him. Maybe just had the audacity to moan
louder when Will touched her than when Angelus did.
Whatever the infraction, this was his way of branding her again, of
making sure everyone would know who owned her.
Completely. Utterly. Because the hair would never grow back.
And everytime anyone would see her, lay with her, she
would be reminded of this night, and of his posession of her.
{{...Who do you belong to, Spike?.....}}
When Angel met Druscilla again, years later, in his souled incarnation,
he had remembered that night vividly. Recalled
how she cried, but not too much, eager as always to set things right
with her *Angel*, her *Daddy*. Recalled the blue
eyes burning a hole in his back as he set about his task, the look
of immaculate hatred in those eyes when hed
completed it, and turned to look into them. Conjured up how he had
laid William between those still spread eagled
legs, and bid him to lick the remaining dew and soap clean.
He looked into Druscillas vacant green eyes all those years later, and saw it all play out there.
And he had been aroused.
{{...Its not the demon in me that needs killing, Buffy, its the man....}}**
Angel opened his eyes to the night, to the knowledge that it was within
him, always, to the sight of his Childer reinacting
the scene from Genesis in the garden, and saw the emereld gaze find
him....She looked right up at him, through the
night and the window, through him....and she smiled....
Angels hackles rose, and he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against
the cold glass, straining to get a better
look....William was inside Dru, on his knees over her, and didnt
notice when she pulled something from behind
her back...Angel spread both palms on the window with a thud....he
opened his mouth to scream, but there was no
voice inside him.....it was like one of those horrible dreams where
your feet are moving and you run and you run
but you never really move....and he saw the sharpened piece of wood
in her fist, and he heard Dru say, so clearly, and
without any malice really....
*The sins of the Fathers, daddy*
And when the howl finally came it was too late, because she was alone in
the fountain now, and a small cloud of dust
was settling over the water.
End 16a