Co-written with findmea_saint and stillacrime


The knock on the door was heavy. He could have rung the bell but then he'd never really liked doorbells. He shoved his hands in the pockets of the thigh length black leather jacket he wore and waited for an answer, head bowed. He knew Danny was inside because he could smell him and hear him. By the same senses, and a couple of others, he knew that Buffy wasn't. It was alright. He needed to speak with Danny anyway.

Danny was mid cooking dinner when the knock sounded at the door. He was making lasagna and salad and had sent Buffy after something for dessert. He licked the sauce off his fingertips and rested the dishtowel over his shoulder as he hurried to the door. He opened it up to see Angel standing there. It was a surprise just because Buffy hadn't mentioned that he was in the City and would be coming over, which normally meant that something was wrong. "Hey. She'll be back in a little bit." He turned away to head for the kitchen again, leaving the door open and expecting Angel to follow. "Somethin' wrong?"

Angel shook his head, remaining just outside the door. "No...I'll just-I don't want to be a bother. I'll just wait for her out here." He ducked his head a bit more, hands still shoved in his pockets.

"Don't be crazy. Come in here. Hallway's drafty anyway." Danny called out from the kitchen. That and Buffy would kick his ass if he made Angel wait out in the hallway, or even if he just let him wait out there. "Might wanna stay outta the kitchen though. Cookin' Italian... garlic."

( Read more... )

All hope abandon, ye who enter in. >> Dante Alighieri

The scalpel twirls between his fingers, flitting a bit like a hummingbird. His head is tilted and he’s studying the canvas before him. His brow is furrowed, the tip of his tongue just between his teeth. All at once his eyes light up, his mouth curves into a grin and he darts forward, the scalpel making a long crimson stroke. The soundtrack to Sweeny Todd covers up the muffled screams of the woman gagged and bound on the floor.
He sighs and furrows his brow again. “There’s something about it that’s just all wrong.” He crouches in front of the girl and studies her impassively. Her eyes are wide with fear and she’s attempting to beg around the gag. Her skin is stained with dried tear tracks and it makes him exhale needlessly. “I think it’s the line of her leg.” He reaches out and pulls the gag from the girl’s mouth.

“Please. Please let me go.” Her voice is all whispers, tears and neediness. The very sound of it makes him hard. He smiles at her, his eyes going soft and he reaches out to caress her cheek.

“Shhhh. Shhhh. It’s going to be alright,” he whispers and moves close enough that he can feel her hot, panting breath on his skin. He’s still smiling as he runs his other hand along her jaw, smearing some blood there. He cups her face gently, thumbs caressing her cheekbone and her chin.

Her tears are starting again and her body relaxes as the sobs overtake her. With a flick of his wrists and a movement so fast that it almost blurs. There’s a crack and the woman goes limp. Angelus stands up and stretches. He looks down at the crumpled body at his feet.
“I always hate taking out the trash.”

Just so we’re clear – you approached me. You were the one that was stupid enough to let me into your room. And afterwards, you were the one that wanted to cuddle. >> Rachel Gibson

No doubt she’ll tell you different but what have we learned, always come to Uncle Angelus for the truth kiddies. He’ll tell you the whole truth and nothing but the truth, unvarnished and bare. You know why? Because the truth hurts so much more than a lie ever will and when we get right down to it I’m all about causing as much pain as possible. Which is why this tale is so damn good. It’s all about pain, betrayal and heartbreak seasoned with the sweetest of all nectar, Buffy Summers’ tears. I gotta tell you in all the years I’ve been around, I’ve never seen someone cry like Buffy. She cries with her entire body, with her heart and with her soul. It is…well quite frankly, it’s ecstasy. Buffy in pain makes everything better. That should be a slogan. I’ll have to contact my PR.

Let me go ahead and get to the point. So she was ‘in love’ with Soul Boy and disgustingly enough he was as equally in love with her. He catered to her and tiptoed around all her little girl sensibilities and took his god damned time. I wanted to scream and apparently so did she because here’s the deal. She seduced him. I mean come on, she’s the slayer. Like a little cut on her shoulder is going to be cause for her to whimper? I’ve tortured the girl physically, emotionally and mentally. She’s tough. Maybe if she’d had a sword run through her I could see her whimpering but a cut on her shoulder, no way. And Soul Boy, he buys it hook line and sinker because he wants to be seduced. He’s worse than a fucking woman.

So she seduces him, no matter how much she protests—me thinks the lady doth protest too much—and they do the vertical tango. On her birthday and did I mention she was a virgin? It was like fucking Christmas, Hanuakkah, Easter and Fourth of July all rolled into one. Of course Soul Boy pulls his shit together long enough to get us both away from Saint Buffy before we could eat her. Asshole.

Next morning, she shows up thinking I’m still her boyfriend. That was sweet, in fact it was probably my finest moment during that whole stint. Seriously, how many times do you get to completely destroy a recently deflowered virgin? Okay, if you’re me maybe a couple of dozen but this time was even sweeter because she thought it was Angel and have you seen the girl? She was falling apart and I was getting hard off her pain, just trying to keep up appearances you know? Thing is, I didn’t even have to try that hard. I just had to tell the truth. So maybe I omitted a few things like technically, she could use a few pointers but Soul Boy’s disgusting emotions made up for the bad. Omission isn’t lying, kiddies, no matter how often your parents try to drill that into you. And if she’d use that steel trap brain underneath all that blonde hair, she would have realized, she was perfect happiness to Soul Boy. She couldn’t have been doing that much wrong.

Looking back on the whole affair, the only thing I can say that went wrong was Soul Boy should have stayed to cuddle. I’m betting Post Coital Buffy is almost as good as Buffy in pain.

For quotethis_muses

I'm glad you can see your own inadequacies. Self-awareness is what makes the world go 'round, after all. If you ignore silly things like physics and science. >> Charlie Churchill (Emily White's When it Rains)

Now here’s the side of the story Soul boy will never tell you. You see, Kiddos, you want to know the real truth, you come to Uncle Angelus. Only don’t call me Uncle Angelus it’s annoying but it makes for better storytelling.

He enjoyed it. He wanted it. He craved and longed for it. He even dreamed about it long before they gave him a reason. Okay…so maybe I was fueling his dreams just a tiny bit but the chick that hung us…she was pretty damn hot. That’s all I’m saying and maybe she would have been hotter bathed in blood. Seriously all I’m saying.

Anyway so we have Soul boy with all his self righteous bullshit about saving humanity and righting wrongs and seriously does he ever get tired that? I’ve lived with him over a century, give or take a few months vacation and I’m ready to blow someone’s brains out. And you might make the point that I was ready to blow someone’s brain out before that century. You, my friend, would be very, very wrong. See I like to take things slow, draw out, make it last and give myself something to think about later when I’m in bed. Guy like me spends a lot of time alone locked indoors. The point is I don’t like guns. It’s all over too fast, it’s sloppy, it’s messy and it lacks any artistic value. Now you see where I’m going with this.

Soul boy slaughtered every, single person in that hotel. I had nothing to do with it, even if he claims I did. I merely sat back and enjoyed the show. He even provided me with my own personal brand of popcorn—a leggy blonde or two.

And now I’m side tracked…it was the leggy blondes. What was I talking about? Oh yes. Soul boy and his self righteous bullshit. He was going on this redemption kick. He was going to live among humans, help them out a bit, even did a stint in against the Germans. What was that World War II? Anyway, before I get off track again, Soul boy was going to integrate himself into humanity. He hadn’t quite gotten to the ‘saving the world’ or his immortal soul part yet but he was well on his way and then humanity gave him the big Fuck You.

Oh yeah…it was one of my top ten moments and seriously, some of my moments have been fuckin’ priceless. Take Drusilla for instance…right. Back on track. That hot little number pointed in his direction, laid all the blame and they strung him up. He couldn’t even struggle he was so shocked and betrayed, just let them lead him there like a lamb to the slaughter and he kept looking back at her with these big, old puppy dog eyes thinking she’d take it back any minute now. He was waiting for her to be the savior to him that he’d been to her.

And the best part of the whole story, even better than the post-hanging massacre we had…wait for it. It’s worth waiting for I’ll tell you that.

She failed him.

Now I’m feeling all warm and fuzzy. You there, go find Uncle Angelus a leggy blonde or two. I wouldn’t object to a red head. Maybe even a nun or a saint.