Pygmalion Part I: Fair Trade
Apr. 7th, 2007 05:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
iceminkI may have mentioned this before, but there was a little Angelus/Darla plot bunny that got in my head and wouldn't go away, so I had to write it so I could go back to my WIPs. So here it is, my first ever attempt at writing Angelus.
Title: Pygmalion Part I: Fair Trade
Pairing: Angelus/Darla
Raiting: NC-17
Warnings: Violence
Summary: 1603 the Virginia Colony. When a young prostitute runs into trouble with one of her clients a mysterious stranger, who calls himself Angelus, comes to her rescue. But even though she's drawn to her rescuer, something tells her that there is something not quite right about him, and maybe something dangerous.
Disclaimer: This all belongs to Joss and ME, and Fox. I just play with them for fun.
"Stupid whore!" the Earl yelled as he struck the young woman across the face, knocking her to the ground. "You realize that this hat is worth more than you?"
The woman spit out some dirt and looked up at him. "Then perhaps your lordship should have paid me, if only for old time's sake."
She should have let it go, she thought, let him leave without paying. It was better to let one trick get off for free than end up so bloody and beaten that her other wealthy clients wouldn't want to have anything to do with her. But she had always had a stubborn streak, had always demanded her due in life.
The Earl was a regular, but he was heading back to England on a ship in the morning, and since he intended to never return to Virginia, he had decided he deserved his last night on the house. Or rather, since he didn't need her anymore he figured he owed her nothing.
There was nothing she could do about him not paying. But she could get a little revenge. So she had grabbed his hat and thrown it in the chamber pot. Things had not gone well at that point.
When it became obvious that he intended to beat her, she had decided to run out of her house, in the hopes that he wouldn't want to make a scene in the street. But the Earl seemed to no longer care what anyone in the colony thought of him. Now she could only hope that they didn't attract the wrong kind of attention.
He grabbed her hair and hauled her half way up. "I will not be spoken to in such a manner by the likes of you."
"I think you should let the lady go," a man's voice said.
With her head held back at such an unusual angle, she couldn't see who the speaker was, but did not sound like anyone she knew. She would have remembered that voice, or rather his manner of speaking. He had a dialect unlike any she had heard before.
"Sir, you misunderstand. This gutter trash is no lady. She-"
"I know what she is," the calm cold voice said. "And you're going to let her go and apologize to her."
"I will do noth-" There was a strange noise like bone scraping against bone and the Earl's fingers slowly let go of her hair. "I'll, I'll just be going now. A good evening to you, sir."
The woman scrambled back a few paces until she hit something.
"You haven't apologized to the lady," the strange calm voice said from right above her.
It was her rescuer she had bumped into, and he reached down with large strong hands to help her to her feet. She tried to get a look at the man who had come to her aid, but the only light came from the nearly full moon which hung low in the sky behind him. She could tell the he was a very large man, and she could see the outline of his features, but nothing that seemed to explain the easy way he had frightened the Earl into letting her go.
"Right, yes, well," the Earl stumbled through his apology. "Forgive me. . . milady. . . And I shall be on my way."
"What about my money?" she shouted at him. She regretted it a moment later. It wasn't that she didn't deserve it, but it made her sound petulant and like the whore she was. The way the stranger referred to her as a lady made her want to seem like one.
"You owe the lady money?" the stranger asked.
"I. . . yes, I seem to have forgotten to settle my bill," the Earl said as he began to reach for his purse. He dug out the coins he owed her and tentatively held them out.
Her first instinct was to grab for the coins before they disappeared, but she forced her self to calmly step forward and take them.
"Perhaps you should give the lady a bit extra for her trouble," the stranger suggested.
"That's quite all right, sir" she spoke up. "I only need what is properly owed me." That she thought was sufficiently lady like.
"All right," the stranger replied as he nodded permission for the Earl to leave. He held his arm for her. "Can I walk you home?"
"Why thank you, sir. I am afraid however that it will be a short walk, for this is my home."
"That's okay. The truth is, I just arrived here, and I was hoping for some companionship," he told her.
She wasn't familiar with the term 'okay' but she did now understand his reasons for helping her and she was not one to pass up a potential new client.
She took his arm and smiled up at him. "I would never want you to think our poor colony to be inhospitable. Please, do come in."
As soon as she was inside she went to turn up the flame in the lamp so that she could get a better look at her guest. He had strong handsome features, although as he took off his hat, she could see that his hair was cut rather strangely. It had been cut very close to the scalp even shorter than the Roundheads wore theirs. But the rich deep blue velvet of his coat suggested that he was not a Puritan. There was something else about him, something not quite right, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Whatever it was, his clothes said he was rich, and that was enough for her.
Then she realized that the light must be illuminating her disheveled state.
"I must apologize. My appearance must be horrific," she said as she tried to brush some of the dirt off of her skirts.
He grabbed her hands to stop her. "You could be covered in dirt and still be beautiful Da-darling. What is your name?"
"I'm called Belladonna."
He smiled. "And I'm sure you are as poisonous as you are beautiful, but that's not what I asked. I want to know your name."
She smiled, "Forgive me, sir, it's simply that with the recent tragic news from London, perhaps I feel that my occupation brings some shame on my name."
"News?" he asked.
She was stunned. Even out here as far as they were from London and the throne, it was all anyone was talking about. "The Queen, sir. You do know that she has passed from this world. It's the Scottish King, James Stuart who now sits the throne."
"Right. Queen Elizabeth, of course. I knew that." He quickly tried to change the subject. "So then your name is Elizabeth?" He frowned for a moment as if it reminded him of something else, then he chuckled, "I should have known you'd have a queen's name."
He reached out to cup her cheek but his hand was ice cold, and she couldn't help but flinch as he touched her.
"You're are as cold as death, sir," she said with genuine concern. The last thing she needed was for a rich potential client to get sick. "Forgive me. Let me see to the fire so you may warm yourself."
She moved away from him to stoke the fire that had nearly burned out during her drama with the Earl.
"You don't have to," he told her, but she didn't stop. "Then again, I suppose it will be nicer for you if I warm up a bit first. People always tell me I have cold hands."
It occurred to her that she needed to name a price soon. Under normal circumstances they would have already dealt with that. On the other hand, she did owe him. Perhaps she should discount the evening or even give him one free tumble? Of course she would have to make it clear that this was a one time offer. It wouldn't do to have him expect her services for free in the future.
"You don't need to concern yourself with me, sir. I only worry that you have had a long journey, and our local doctor is not of much use."
She motioned to one of the chairs near the fire, and began to seat herself, but he stopped her. "Will you sit with me?" he asked holding out his hand to her.
She smiled in agreement and settled into his lap, making sure to pull back her shoulders a bit so that he would have a find view down the front of her bodice.
"And may I ask the name of the kind gentleman who rescued me tonight?" she asked lightheartedly. She didn't want to push him for his name in case he didn't want to give it to her. Of course in the tiny colony she would know it soon enough anyway.
He smiled, "Angelus. My name is Angelus."
"Angelus. Hmm. Well, you are certainly handsome enough for such a name, and yet I think you might be a devil with the face of an angel."
He gave her a strange and startled look, and she was afraid that her little joke had offended him.
"I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean-" He quieted her with a finger over her lips.
"You really are you, aren't you?" he asked in wonderment. She had no idea what he meant by that, but he didn't give her time to dwell on it. "Don't worry, it's all right. It's just," he stopped again and this time he smiled. "I was going to say 'we prefer the term Demon-American' but then you won't get that will you?" He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. Don't mind me; I've just come a very long way."
"Of course, sir. I remember how tiring the passage over can be."
"Don't call me 'sir'," he corrected her. "Will you call me your dear boy instead?"
"Of course," she smiled. "I will call you whatever you like. And just what can I do for my dear boy tonight?" She trailed her fingers down the buttons of his vest.
He ran his thumb down her throat, letting it rest on her vein so that she could feel her own blood pulsing through her veins.
"Everything," he said. "I want everything."
She smiled. "Everything? I'm afraid that will cost you, alth-"
Before she could offer to lower her price, he placed a finger over her lips to silence her. Then he removed it so that he could reach down and take a ruby ring off of his finger.
He placed the heavy gold ring in her hand and said, "This should be enough to cover all of your services until the sun sets tomorrow."
Elizabeth struggled to keep her eyes from going wide. The ring was enough to pay for her services for far longer than a night and a day, but if he thought she was that highly priced, she was not going to disagree.
"That will do," she confirmed. "Will you give me a moment to put this somewhere safe?" she asked. "I would hate to lose it in the passion of the moment. And then, my dear boy, I shall be completely yours."
He released her waist, allowing her to get up. She moved into her bedroom and out of his view. Then she quickly knelt down to remove a loose floor board. She wasn't so much afraid of losing it, as of him stealing the ring off her person. There was, after all, something not quite right about him.
"I'm not going to swindle you," Angelus said from right behind her.
The proximity of his voice startled her. She hadn't heard him approach, and wasn't prepared to find him right behind her. She quickly replaced the board, hoping he hadn't seen how many coins she had hidden there.
"Of course not," she said as she let him help her to her feet. "I never thought otherwise, I only-"
He once again silenced her with a finger. "Don't lie. You're too smart to assume I'm honest, which I'm not. But I don't bother to steal from whores."
She stiffened a little. It was the first time he had called her a whore. He was hardly the first person to call her that, but she didn't like hearing it from him. Not after he'd treated her like a lady earlier.
"And who is it you do steal from?" she teased, although her voice was a bit cold.
He smiled, and there was something cold and dead in his eyes. "I'll tell you, but some other time."
He placed his hand on the sleeve of her dress, pulling it down slightly to expose her shoulder. Then he kissed the recently exposed skin.
She trembled a bit at the cool touch of his lips. It seemed he was going to be gentle with her, which was good considering the amount of time she had indebted herself to him. She tilted her head to the side to allow him better access as he began to kiss his way up her throat. Half way up, he stopped and she felt his teeth as he nipped the skin of her neck. He let out a deep moan from the back of his throat, and then she could hear him inhale deeply, as if he could breathe in her very essence.
"What a delicious treat you are," he murmured against her neck. "I wish I could have you now."
She ran her fingers through his oddly short hair. "My dear boy, I'm yours for the taking."
He straightened and looked her in the eye with that same cold smile. "And I intend to take all of you, but if I have a snack now, it'll only spoil the feast."
Then he kissed her.
It wasn't often that her clients kissed her. That was something, she supposed, they saved for sweethearts and wives. And none of them had ever kissed her quite like this. First his tongue swept lightly over her lips, moistening them before he pressed his own lightly against them. As her mouth opened slightly his tongue gently pushed inside and probed her mouth. When he deepened the kiss she found herself standing on her tip toes, eagerly reaching for more of him, and when he finally broke it off she found herself lightheaded and out of breath.
As her eyes fluttered opened, she noticed that he didn't seem to be as winded as she was. Instead he studied her face and it was obvious that he was pleased with the effect his kiss had on her. She only had a moment to reflect on this before his lips were back on hers. This time the kiss was more demanding, insistent, and she could feel his fingers pulling on the laces of her bodice, which were still loose from her appointment with the Earl, before she heard them snap.
He pulled the garment up over her head, before tossing it aside. Then he grabbed her by the waist and spun her around so he could work the tighter laces of her corset loose. His mouth descended again to her throat as he roughly plucked at the bindings. She could hear more snaps as he mercilessly removed the restricting undergarment.
Once her chest was bare, he spun her back around to look at her. As his eyes traveled over her breasts, he licked his lips. Whatever oddities there were about Angelus, that look of pure lust was the same as with any other man who'd paid for the pleasure of seeing her flesh.
He knelt before her, which brought his face level with her breasts, and his large hand cupped the right one. He ran his thumb over her nipple until it hardened into a little bud, then he sucked it into his mouth.
She gave out a little moan as shivers of pleasure traveled down her spine. She could feel the wetness between her legs, for which she was grateful. If Angelus' manhood was as well proportioned as he was everywhere else, she might have been in for a painful time. So she allowed herself to indulge in the sensations as he teased her with his tongue.
Then his teeth closed about her nipple and she let out a quick cry as bolts of desire traveled from the sensitive bud, straight between her legs.
He laughed. "Should have known my girl always liked to be bit."
She didn't ask him what he meant. Whatever fantasy of his she was caught in wasn't really her business, especially when he was treating her this well.
His attention shifted to her other breast, eliciting more sighs and moans from her as he repeated his actions.
By the time he was done, her legs felt weak, so she was grateful when he carefully pushed her back onto the bed. He quickly divested her of her skirts, and when he spread her legs, she expected him to climb on top of her, and start seeing to his own release. Instead, he pulled her down, so that her her hips were resting on the edge of the bed.
He lifted one of her feet and kissed the sole. Then he began to kiss his way up its length. As he made his way up each leg in turn, she could feel anticipation building in her womb. She was beginning to feel almost guilty. She'd never enjoyed being with a man like this before. She knew her job was to see to his pleasure, and she had yet to even touch his member.
Before she could carry the thought further, his tongue was pushing its way inside of her. She had thought she was long past the point of being surprised at what a man might want to put inside her yet she had never imagined that anyone would want their tongue in her. But Elizabeth had learned long ago not to bother trying to figure out the strange things that caused men pleasure and she was finding it hard to concentrate anyway.
As he explored her body with his tongue, it was as if she was learning it for the first time as well, and it startled her to discover that she could gain so much pleasure from a part of her body that she thought only had economic value.
Her body began to move of its own volition, pressing against his face as she needed more and more from him. Her hand dropped to grasp the back of his head and it was then that he pulled back.
"Do you like that?" he asked.
She whimpered from the loss of contact, and answered as soon as she'd caught her breath. "Yes."
"Has anyone ever made you feel this good before?"
"No," she admitted.
He smiled wickedly. "Do you want me to continue?" he asked.
She began to understand the game they were playing. He wanted control over her, he wanted her to beg.
"Yes, please. . ." she begged. She was about to add sir, but he'd told her not to call him that. "My dear, dear boy."
"You are a quick study aren't you?" he said with a smile. "But I'm a selfish bastard, and if this is going to be the first time you come, I want to feel every moment of it."
He stood up then and started to undress himself. There didn't seem to be any shyness about him, so she watched freely as he did so. For a moment she looked admiringly as he revealed his well muscled chest and arms. But then she was struck by how totally at the mercy of this large man she was. Once again the feeling that there was something not right about Angelus overcame her. He seemed suddenly dangerous and menacing as he loomed over her on the bed.
As if he could sense her apprehension he smiled at her, but it didn't serve to comfort her. She pulled her eyes away from that hard gaze to watch as he undid his trousers to reveal his hard member which stood out pink and eager. She realized that she had been right to be grateful for her wetness; he was as large there as he was everywhere else.
As soon as he'd kicked his way free of the last of his clothing, he lifted her legs and turned her so that she was no longer lying sideways on the bed. Then he crawled on top of her and positioned himself between her legs.
"Tell me, have you ever seen a cock as big as mine?"
"Never," she said automatically, for there was only one correct answer to that question.
Or so she had thought. His smile vanished, and suddenly his hand was on her throat squeezing lightly. "None of that now. I want only the truth from you."
Panic ran through her as she discovered her misgivings about him were correct. Although he wasn't quite choking her, she couldn't escape from the firm hand on her neck. His cold dark eyes watched her struggles with interest and he licked his lips in anticipation.
"Please," she begged. He'd liked begging earlier, maybe that would make him stop now.
"Tell me the truth," he replied. His other hand began to slowly stroke his cock, as if her fear were an aphrodisiac. "Now tell me again, have you ever had a cock as big is mine?"
She couldn't help but wonder what sort of man came to a prostitute for honesty. On the other hand, perhaps it only proved that he was clever enough to know that all women lied in bed. Motivated by fear, she quickly thought of a way to both speak the truth, and say what she was sure he wanted to hear.
"I don't know," she admitted, her voice coming out weakly. "Few men are so bold as to undress in front of me. Perhaps they are ashamed of their size. But I am sure that I have never swallowed one so large."
He smiled and released her neck. She resisted the urge to rub it, not wanting to let him know how much he had scared and hurt her. And then she realized her mistake.
"Well, that'll be another first for you then, but later on." He inhaled deeply, and then frowned, as if something he smelled bothered him. "I shouldn't have done that. Not that you aren't delectable when you're scared," he said as if it were a great compliment. "But you've gone cold on me haven't you?"
He settled himself above her and began to kiss her with those long deep kisses that had stolen her breath earlier. While he held himself above her with one arm, the other hand moved down her body, caressing every curve until she felt his hand moved between her thighs as he pressed two of his fingers inside her.
This she was familiar with. Men often did this almost as if they were testing the temperature of a bath before they got in. But Angelus let his fingers linger, lazily fucking her with them. Her body, which had become tense with the urge to flee, began to relax, and it seemed impossible to hold on to her apprehension when his fingers worked her so expertly. Then his thumb pressed against her most sensitive spot, causing her to gasp into his mouth.
He chuckled, obviously pleased with her reaction. He continued to kiss her and added a third finger. She could once again feel something building inside her womb and it became harder to keep up her kisses as a series of moans escaped from her throat. Just when she thought she couldn't stand it anymore, he pulled his fingers from her.
She whimpered in protest and he chided her. "Didn't I tell you that I wanted to feel you come?"
Then she felt him position the head of his cock at her entrance. Slowly he pushed inside of her, careful not to hurt her, and obviously enjoying every second as his thick cock stretched her to her limits.
Once he was fully seated in her, he paused for a moment, allowing her to adjust, and then he began to slowly thrust in and out of her.
Normally she would have preferred a quicker pace because it meant that the whole messy affair would be over quicker. But she found that she enjoyed the feel of him inside her. At the end of each thrust he seemed to swirl his hips in a way that sent sparks through her body. She found herself matching his rhythm not in the methodical way she normally went about her work, but with real passion, and every moan and cry he elicited from her was genuine.
And all of a sudden it was as if she was bursting apart. She squeezed him tightly about the waist as her body thrashed beneath him.
"That's my girl. . . Fuck. . . Yeah. . . Darla!" he cried as he increased the pace of his thrusts and his own climax hit him. Then he collapsed on top of her.
For just a moment he let his weight settle on her, before rolling off. Instinctively she curled into his side, and began to lay her head on his chest. Then she froze, inwardly cursing herself. Many men didn't like to be touch once they'd finished with a woman, and she started to pull back.
He stopped her and put his arms around her, pulling her back against him.
"It's okay," he told her even though he looked at her almost as if she had grown a second head. "If you haven't figured it yet, I enjoy pleasing you."
She nodded, although there was a kind of arrogance to Angelus that made her suspect that he what he really enjoyed was knowing he'd pleased her more than any other man had.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Angelus's fingers tightened in Elizabeth's hair as he groaned and spilled his seed down the back of her throat. She waited patiently until his hand relaxed. Then she pulled away so that she could fix her hair.
The time he had paid for was almost up, and he had insisted that they be fully dressed for the end. Well, except for his softening dick that hung from the slit in his trousers.
That was only one of the many strange requests he had made. Like the way he had insisted that they keep the curtains drawn all day. Or how although he had encouraged her to eat, he'd had nothing himself, insisting that he had something young and sweet waiting for him at home. Which was strange because earlier he'd given the distinct impression that he'd just arrived in Virginia the night before.
There was one mystery about him that she had figured out, however. Every time his orgasm hit he called her by the same name, Darla. His generosity, both in payment and in the way he treated her, obviously stemmed from the fact that she resembled this Darla woman.
She wondered who Darla was. A woman too highly placed to ever accept him? Another man's wife? For all she knew, Darla was even Angelus' sister. It was hardly the most perverse thing she had come across in her career. What was clear was that for whatever reason, he couldn't have Darla and he saw Elizabeth as the next best thing.
It was both a potentially profitable and dangerous situation to be in especially considering the volatility of this man. She was sure she had done a marvelous job of pleasing him, which suggested that he would be back at her door time and time again. On the other hand, if she wasn't careful, if she took a wrong step and accidentally shattered the illusion he'd created in his mind, there was no telling what he might do.
Yet, so far it seemed she could do no wrong. Perhaps it was that she so closely resembled this Darla woman. Usually when a man used her as a stand in for another woman, he took her from behind so that he wouldn't see the difference in their features. But Angelus insisted on being able to see her face.
Still, she didn't know how she felt about the setting sun. On the one hand she was tired and sore. He had certainly made her work for her money. On the other hand, she enjoyed being with him. He had awakened passions and desires in her that she hadn't known her body was capable of. In some ways it was disturbing, as if he knew her body better than she did, and yet the result was so wonderful.
Yet she couldn't help wondering what she would do once he was gone. And what if never did come back? Or worse, what if the next time he came for her services, he treated her the way the rest of her clients did?
"You shouldn't worry so much," he told her.
"I wasn't-" She stopped. He seemed to be able to read her mind at times. She smiled. "How do you do that?"
He returned her smile. "Haven't I already proved I know more about women than most men?" he asked.
It wasn't much of an answer, she thought.
He stood up and put his hands on her shoulders. "I want you to come with me," he said.
"Come with you? Where?"
"To my home. I want you to be my mistress." He placed a finger on her lips to keep her from interrupting. "I'll give you everything you'll ever need. More luxury than you have ever dreamed of. I can show you wonders, a world, you've never even imagined."
"That is a pretty picture," she admitted. "But I wouldn't be so well off if I believed every promise made to me by a man."
He looked at her angrily, and it almost seemed as if there was something golden flashing in his eyes. "It's a good thing then that I'm a demon not a man," he joked. And yet there was something serious in his voice, just the hint of a threat.
"I am flattered sir," she chose not to call him by the endearment he so loved. "But I know nothing about you, and I'll not give up my independence for the vague promise of luxury."
He shook his head. "There's nothing but ugly death for you here, Dar-Elizabeth. Come with me."
His talk of death sent a shiver down her spine, but she refused to back down. If he was dangerous now, he would still be dangerous if she agreed to go with him. More so if she was dependent on him. And the way he had mixed up her name, caused her to wonder if maybe this Darla hadn't met with a bad end, perhaps at his hands.
"All death is ugly, and it will still be there no matter where you take me," she told him resolutely.
"You're wrong," he said softly. "Death can be art." He reached out to caress the side of her face. "Too bad it will be quite some time before you can appreciate what a masterpiece yours will be."
She took a frightened step back, about to turn on her heel and run. There were knives in the kitchen, a poor weapon against such a large man, but better than nothing.
She never had the chance. In one swift movement he had his hand around her throat. She tried to struggle against him, but no matter how hard she tore at his hand with her nails, he didn't budge, except to draw her closer to him.
"Has anyone ever told you that you smell like cinnamon and apples when you're terrified?" was the last thing she heard as she lost consciousness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Elizabeth woke up coughing. Her throat was sore and bruised but she was still alive, and that was something.
She quickly looked around, searching for Angelus, but he was nowhere to be seen. However, the room she had woken up in was by far the most luxurious room she had ever seen. The large bed was the softest she'd ever lain on, and the burgundy sheets seemed to be silk.
She didn't spend much time taking in the rich decor however, except to wonder at the ladies vanity, on which was spread out brushes, combs, pins, make up, perfume, and everything a lady could want except a mirror.
It was a curiosity, but one that could wait. What was important was getting away before Angelus came back.
The first door she opened led into a closet filled with beautiful dresses that she was willing to bet were cut to fit someone her size.
She hurried to the next door, which was also a dead end, this time into a strange white room, with a tiled floor and walls. There was no regular furniture, only a white tub, a matching basin attached to the wall, and a very oddly shaped chair, also of the same white stone as the tub and the basin.
She didn't bother to try and puzzle out the strange room. Instead she moved on to the last door, which led out into the rest of the apartment.
She quickly moved through the other rooms looking for a way out. Unfortunately the only door that seemed to lead out of the living quarters was firmly locked.
She was about to pull one of the candles down from the wall sconce so that she could examine the door better, when she realized that the rooms weren't lit by candles at all, at least not any natural kind. On top of the white pillars she'd mistaken for wax, sat a glass bulb that had been shaped like a flame. Inside each of these bulbs glowed a strange light, but it wasn't any sort of fire she had ever seen.
As she studied the odd light she laughed. It seemed that as many a priest had warned her, the devil had come for her at last. Or at least one of his demons. Some women she supposed might have screamed or fainted at the notion, but it was almost comforting to Elizabeth. As if she had finally come to the point she'd been headed all her life.
That didn't mean she wasn't going to try and escape. Demon or not, she had no intention of letting Angelus kill her. Her first priority was to find a way out of these rooms and discover where he had taken her. And if she couldn't do that? Well since he had the form and appetites of a man, who was to say he couldn't be killed like a man as well?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You haven't turned her?" Lilah asked.
"Not yet," Angelus replied as he watched Darla–no, Elizabeth, he corrected himself–on the security monitors. "It's much easier to keep a human prisoner than a vampire. Fledglings get so hungry, and if she got out, I wouldn't want her getting spooked by cars and running out into traffic."
That wasn't the real reason he hadn't turned her. He was sure that Wolfram & Hart could easily contain a vampire if they wanted. But she wasn't ready yet. He needed to shape her, to be sure that she retained some of her independence even after he had sired her.
Normally Angelus' games were designed to break his victims. But fear, used judiciously and in just the right amount, could also be used to strengthen a person. By the time he was done with her, this Darla would be as strong and vicious as the one he remembered.
"If you'd grabbed a more current Darla you wouldn't have to worry about that," Lilah pointed out.
"But where would be the fun in that?" he asked.
Angelus didn't know or care if Lilah would understand why he'd made the choice he had. After all, she hadn't known how to tempt him into taking the position as the new CEO of Wolfram & Hart.
When he'd taken his little tour of Wolfram & Hart, she'd tried to seduce him with fast cars, power, and wealth. All things he could easily obtain for himself now that he was rid of his soul and that Jasmine bitch was no longer trying to turn them all into happy little meat puppets.
Then Lilah had pulled her little trick with the necroplast windows. Personally Angelus could care less about staring into the sunlight. But as he looked out over LA, he couldn't help but think that Darla would have loved the view. Not just that, she would have loved the respect and position Wolfram & Hart would give them with the rest of the demon world. It would have been her way in to all the parties that vampires were usually not allowed to attend.
And that's when he knew what Wolfram & Hart could offer him that would make it worth his while to take on the headache of running a law-firm.
The only problem was they said they couldn't resurrect his Darla. Her essence had been pulled between life and death too many times. But they could offer him the next best thing.
As it turned out, between their science and mystical departments, Wolfram & Hart had figured out the basics of time travel. The thing was, you couldn't actually change the past. No matter what you did, when you returned to the present, it would be exactly the same as you left it. The only difference was that now there would be a parallel universe with the changes you had made. So they could send him back to any point in Darla's existence and he could simply bring her back with him to his own present without any consequences.
The possibilities were endless. Although he supposed there could only be so much satisfaction in killing the same person over and over, if they couldn't remember that you had killed another version of them. Of course, if he videotaped peeling the skin off one Buffy, and then showed it to the next one he killed. . .
But Darla was his more immediate interest. His first thought had been to find the Darla that had begged Angel to turn her, and rescue her. His mouth watered at the thought of his sire's blood being hot and human. Even that souled wuss had almost given into the temptation to turn her, although it had taken finding out she was dying to get him thinking straight.
But that was the problem. That Darla would have too many memories of Angelus' contamination with a soul. True she would be grateful to have her boy back, but Wolfram & Hart was offering him a clean slate, a chance to have a Darla who would never have to know about the soul, or all of the things that Angel had done. A Darla he never would have betrayed.
So he had gone back to kidnap the human woman who would become Darla when she was still healthy and in her prime. And Elizabeth was unmistakably Darla, even if she did like to snuggle after sex.
But the best part was that not only would she never know Angel, but she would never know or have any loyalties to the Master either. She would be completely his to shape as he saw fit until he had made her his own perfect Darla.
Continued in Part II here.
Title: Pygmalion Part I: Fair Trade
Pairing: Angelus/Darla
Raiting: NC-17
Warnings: Violence
Summary: 1603 the Virginia Colony. When a young prostitute runs into trouble with one of her clients a mysterious stranger, who calls himself Angelus, comes to her rescue. But even though she's drawn to her rescuer, something tells her that there is something not quite right about him, and maybe something dangerous.
Disclaimer: This all belongs to Joss and ME, and Fox. I just play with them for fun.
"Stupid whore!" the Earl yelled as he struck the young woman across the face, knocking her to the ground. "You realize that this hat is worth more than you?"
The woman spit out some dirt and looked up at him. "Then perhaps your lordship should have paid me, if only for old time's sake."
She should have let it go, she thought, let him leave without paying. It was better to let one trick get off for free than end up so bloody and beaten that her other wealthy clients wouldn't want to have anything to do with her. But she had always had a stubborn streak, had always demanded her due in life.
The Earl was a regular, but he was heading back to England on a ship in the morning, and since he intended to never return to Virginia, he had decided he deserved his last night on the house. Or rather, since he didn't need her anymore he figured he owed her nothing.
There was nothing she could do about him not paying. But she could get a little revenge. So she had grabbed his hat and thrown it in the chamber pot. Things had not gone well at that point.
When it became obvious that he intended to beat her, she had decided to run out of her house, in the hopes that he wouldn't want to make a scene in the street. But the Earl seemed to no longer care what anyone in the colony thought of him. Now she could only hope that they didn't attract the wrong kind of attention.
He grabbed her hair and hauled her half way up. "I will not be spoken to in such a manner by the likes of you."
"I think you should let the lady go," a man's voice said.
With her head held back at such an unusual angle, she couldn't see who the speaker was, but did not sound like anyone she knew. She would have remembered that voice, or rather his manner of speaking. He had a dialect unlike any she had heard before.
"Sir, you misunderstand. This gutter trash is no lady. She-"
"I know what she is," the calm cold voice said. "And you're going to let her go and apologize to her."
"I will do noth-" There was a strange noise like bone scraping against bone and the Earl's fingers slowly let go of her hair. "I'll, I'll just be going now. A good evening to you, sir."
The woman scrambled back a few paces until she hit something.
"You haven't apologized to the lady," the strange calm voice said from right above her.
It was her rescuer she had bumped into, and he reached down with large strong hands to help her to her feet. She tried to get a look at the man who had come to her aid, but the only light came from the nearly full moon which hung low in the sky behind him. She could tell the he was a very large man, and she could see the outline of his features, but nothing that seemed to explain the easy way he had frightened the Earl into letting her go.
"Right, yes, well," the Earl stumbled through his apology. "Forgive me. . . milady. . . And I shall be on my way."
"What about my money?" she shouted at him. She regretted it a moment later. It wasn't that she didn't deserve it, but it made her sound petulant and like the whore she was. The way the stranger referred to her as a lady made her want to seem like one.
"You owe the lady money?" the stranger asked.
"I. . . yes, I seem to have forgotten to settle my bill," the Earl said as he began to reach for his purse. He dug out the coins he owed her and tentatively held them out.
Her first instinct was to grab for the coins before they disappeared, but she forced her self to calmly step forward and take them.
"Perhaps you should give the lady a bit extra for her trouble," the stranger suggested.
"That's quite all right, sir" she spoke up. "I only need what is properly owed me." That she thought was sufficiently lady like.
"All right," the stranger replied as he nodded permission for the Earl to leave. He held his arm for her. "Can I walk you home?"
"Why thank you, sir. I am afraid however that it will be a short walk, for this is my home."
"That's okay. The truth is, I just arrived here, and I was hoping for some companionship," he told her.
She wasn't familiar with the term 'okay' but she did now understand his reasons for helping her and she was not one to pass up a potential new client.
She took his arm and smiled up at him. "I would never want you to think our poor colony to be inhospitable. Please, do come in."
As soon as she was inside she went to turn up the flame in the lamp so that she could get a better look at her guest. He had strong handsome features, although as he took off his hat, she could see that his hair was cut rather strangely. It had been cut very close to the scalp even shorter than the Roundheads wore theirs. But the rich deep blue velvet of his coat suggested that he was not a Puritan. There was something else about him, something not quite right, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Whatever it was, his clothes said he was rich, and that was enough for her.
Then she realized that the light must be illuminating her disheveled state.
"I must apologize. My appearance must be horrific," she said as she tried to brush some of the dirt off of her skirts.
He grabbed her hands to stop her. "You could be covered in dirt and still be beautiful Da-darling. What is your name?"
"I'm called Belladonna."
He smiled. "And I'm sure you are as poisonous as you are beautiful, but that's not what I asked. I want to know your name."
She smiled, "Forgive me, sir, it's simply that with the recent tragic news from London, perhaps I feel that my occupation brings some shame on my name."
"News?" he asked.
She was stunned. Even out here as far as they were from London and the throne, it was all anyone was talking about. "The Queen, sir. You do know that she has passed from this world. It's the Scottish King, James Stuart who now sits the throne."
"Right. Queen Elizabeth, of course. I knew that." He quickly tried to change the subject. "So then your name is Elizabeth?" He frowned for a moment as if it reminded him of something else, then he chuckled, "I should have known you'd have a queen's name."
He reached out to cup her cheek but his hand was ice cold, and she couldn't help but flinch as he touched her.
"You're are as cold as death, sir," she said with genuine concern. The last thing she needed was for a rich potential client to get sick. "Forgive me. Let me see to the fire so you may warm yourself."
She moved away from him to stoke the fire that had nearly burned out during her drama with the Earl.
"You don't have to," he told her, but she didn't stop. "Then again, I suppose it will be nicer for you if I warm up a bit first. People always tell me I have cold hands."
It occurred to her that she needed to name a price soon. Under normal circumstances they would have already dealt with that. On the other hand, she did owe him. Perhaps she should discount the evening or even give him one free tumble? Of course she would have to make it clear that this was a one time offer. It wouldn't do to have him expect her services for free in the future.
"You don't need to concern yourself with me, sir. I only worry that you have had a long journey, and our local doctor is not of much use."
She motioned to one of the chairs near the fire, and began to seat herself, but he stopped her. "Will you sit with me?" he asked holding out his hand to her.
She smiled in agreement and settled into his lap, making sure to pull back her shoulders a bit so that he would have a find view down the front of her bodice.
"And may I ask the name of the kind gentleman who rescued me tonight?" she asked lightheartedly. She didn't want to push him for his name in case he didn't want to give it to her. Of course in the tiny colony she would know it soon enough anyway.
He smiled, "Angelus. My name is Angelus."
"Angelus. Hmm. Well, you are certainly handsome enough for such a name, and yet I think you might be a devil with the face of an angel."
He gave her a strange and startled look, and she was afraid that her little joke had offended him.
"I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean-" He quieted her with a finger over her lips.
"You really are you, aren't you?" he asked in wonderment. She had no idea what he meant by that, but he didn't give her time to dwell on it. "Don't worry, it's all right. It's just," he stopped again and this time he smiled. "I was going to say 'we prefer the term Demon-American' but then you won't get that will you?" He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. Don't mind me; I've just come a very long way."
"Of course, sir. I remember how tiring the passage over can be."
"Don't call me 'sir'," he corrected her. "Will you call me your dear boy instead?"
"Of course," she smiled. "I will call you whatever you like. And just what can I do for my dear boy tonight?" She trailed her fingers down the buttons of his vest.
He ran his thumb down her throat, letting it rest on her vein so that she could feel her own blood pulsing through her veins.
"Everything," he said. "I want everything."
She smiled. "Everything? I'm afraid that will cost you, alth-"
Before she could offer to lower her price, he placed a finger over her lips to silence her. Then he removed it so that he could reach down and take a ruby ring off of his finger.
He placed the heavy gold ring in her hand and said, "This should be enough to cover all of your services until the sun sets tomorrow."
Elizabeth struggled to keep her eyes from going wide. The ring was enough to pay for her services for far longer than a night and a day, but if he thought she was that highly priced, she was not going to disagree.
"That will do," she confirmed. "Will you give me a moment to put this somewhere safe?" she asked. "I would hate to lose it in the passion of the moment. And then, my dear boy, I shall be completely yours."
He released her waist, allowing her to get up. She moved into her bedroom and out of his view. Then she quickly knelt down to remove a loose floor board. She wasn't so much afraid of losing it, as of him stealing the ring off her person. There was, after all, something not quite right about him.
"I'm not going to swindle you," Angelus said from right behind her.
The proximity of his voice startled her. She hadn't heard him approach, and wasn't prepared to find him right behind her. She quickly replaced the board, hoping he hadn't seen how many coins she had hidden there.
"Of course not," she said as she let him help her to her feet. "I never thought otherwise, I only-"
He once again silenced her with a finger. "Don't lie. You're too smart to assume I'm honest, which I'm not. But I don't bother to steal from whores."
She stiffened a little. It was the first time he had called her a whore. He was hardly the first person to call her that, but she didn't like hearing it from him. Not after he'd treated her like a lady earlier.
"And who is it you do steal from?" she teased, although her voice was a bit cold.
He smiled, and there was something cold and dead in his eyes. "I'll tell you, but some other time."
He placed his hand on the sleeve of her dress, pulling it down slightly to expose her shoulder. Then he kissed the recently exposed skin.
She trembled a bit at the cool touch of his lips. It seemed he was going to be gentle with her, which was good considering the amount of time she had indebted herself to him. She tilted her head to the side to allow him better access as he began to kiss his way up her throat. Half way up, he stopped and she felt his teeth as he nipped the skin of her neck. He let out a deep moan from the back of his throat, and then she could hear him inhale deeply, as if he could breathe in her very essence.
"What a delicious treat you are," he murmured against her neck. "I wish I could have you now."
She ran her fingers through his oddly short hair. "My dear boy, I'm yours for the taking."
He straightened and looked her in the eye with that same cold smile. "And I intend to take all of you, but if I have a snack now, it'll only spoil the feast."
Then he kissed her.
It wasn't often that her clients kissed her. That was something, she supposed, they saved for sweethearts and wives. And none of them had ever kissed her quite like this. First his tongue swept lightly over her lips, moistening them before he pressed his own lightly against them. As her mouth opened slightly his tongue gently pushed inside and probed her mouth. When he deepened the kiss she found herself standing on her tip toes, eagerly reaching for more of him, and when he finally broke it off she found herself lightheaded and out of breath.
As her eyes fluttered opened, she noticed that he didn't seem to be as winded as she was. Instead he studied her face and it was obvious that he was pleased with the effect his kiss had on her. She only had a moment to reflect on this before his lips were back on hers. This time the kiss was more demanding, insistent, and she could feel his fingers pulling on the laces of her bodice, which were still loose from her appointment with the Earl, before she heard them snap.
He pulled the garment up over her head, before tossing it aside. Then he grabbed her by the waist and spun her around so he could work the tighter laces of her corset loose. His mouth descended again to her throat as he roughly plucked at the bindings. She could hear more snaps as he mercilessly removed the restricting undergarment.
Once her chest was bare, he spun her back around to look at her. As his eyes traveled over her breasts, he licked his lips. Whatever oddities there were about Angelus, that look of pure lust was the same as with any other man who'd paid for the pleasure of seeing her flesh.
He knelt before her, which brought his face level with her breasts, and his large hand cupped the right one. He ran his thumb over her nipple until it hardened into a little bud, then he sucked it into his mouth.
She gave out a little moan as shivers of pleasure traveled down her spine. She could feel the wetness between her legs, for which she was grateful. If Angelus' manhood was as well proportioned as he was everywhere else, she might have been in for a painful time. So she allowed herself to indulge in the sensations as he teased her with his tongue.
Then his teeth closed about her nipple and she let out a quick cry as bolts of desire traveled from the sensitive bud, straight between her legs.
He laughed. "Should have known my girl always liked to be bit."
She didn't ask him what he meant. Whatever fantasy of his she was caught in wasn't really her business, especially when he was treating her this well.
His attention shifted to her other breast, eliciting more sighs and moans from her as he repeated his actions.
By the time he was done, her legs felt weak, so she was grateful when he carefully pushed her back onto the bed. He quickly divested her of her skirts, and when he spread her legs, she expected him to climb on top of her, and start seeing to his own release. Instead, he pulled her down, so that her her hips were resting on the edge of the bed.
He lifted one of her feet and kissed the sole. Then he began to kiss his way up its length. As he made his way up each leg in turn, she could feel anticipation building in her womb. She was beginning to feel almost guilty. She'd never enjoyed being with a man like this before. She knew her job was to see to his pleasure, and she had yet to even touch his member.
Before she could carry the thought further, his tongue was pushing its way inside of her. She had thought she was long past the point of being surprised at what a man might want to put inside her yet she had never imagined that anyone would want their tongue in her. But Elizabeth had learned long ago not to bother trying to figure out the strange things that caused men pleasure and she was finding it hard to concentrate anyway.
As he explored her body with his tongue, it was as if she was learning it for the first time as well, and it startled her to discover that she could gain so much pleasure from a part of her body that she thought only had economic value.
Her body began to move of its own volition, pressing against his face as she needed more and more from him. Her hand dropped to grasp the back of his head and it was then that he pulled back.
"Do you like that?" he asked.
She whimpered from the loss of contact, and answered as soon as she'd caught her breath. "Yes."
"Has anyone ever made you feel this good before?"
"No," she admitted.
He smiled wickedly. "Do you want me to continue?" he asked.
She began to understand the game they were playing. He wanted control over her, he wanted her to beg.
"Yes, please. . ." she begged. She was about to add sir, but he'd told her not to call him that. "My dear, dear boy."
"You are a quick study aren't you?" he said with a smile. "But I'm a selfish bastard, and if this is going to be the first time you come, I want to feel every moment of it."
He stood up then and started to undress himself. There didn't seem to be any shyness about him, so she watched freely as he did so. For a moment she looked admiringly as he revealed his well muscled chest and arms. But then she was struck by how totally at the mercy of this large man she was. Once again the feeling that there was something not right about Angelus overcame her. He seemed suddenly dangerous and menacing as he loomed over her on the bed.
As if he could sense her apprehension he smiled at her, but it didn't serve to comfort her. She pulled her eyes away from that hard gaze to watch as he undid his trousers to reveal his hard member which stood out pink and eager. She realized that she had been right to be grateful for her wetness; he was as large there as he was everywhere else.
As soon as he'd kicked his way free of the last of his clothing, he lifted her legs and turned her so that she was no longer lying sideways on the bed. Then he crawled on top of her and positioned himself between her legs.
"Tell me, have you ever seen a cock as big as mine?"
"Never," she said automatically, for there was only one correct answer to that question.
Or so she had thought. His smile vanished, and suddenly his hand was on her throat squeezing lightly. "None of that now. I want only the truth from you."
Panic ran through her as she discovered her misgivings about him were correct. Although he wasn't quite choking her, she couldn't escape from the firm hand on her neck. His cold dark eyes watched her struggles with interest and he licked his lips in anticipation.
"Please," she begged. He'd liked begging earlier, maybe that would make him stop now.
"Tell me the truth," he replied. His other hand began to slowly stroke his cock, as if her fear were an aphrodisiac. "Now tell me again, have you ever had a cock as big is mine?"
She couldn't help but wonder what sort of man came to a prostitute for honesty. On the other hand, perhaps it only proved that he was clever enough to know that all women lied in bed. Motivated by fear, she quickly thought of a way to both speak the truth, and say what she was sure he wanted to hear.
"I don't know," she admitted, her voice coming out weakly. "Few men are so bold as to undress in front of me. Perhaps they are ashamed of their size. But I am sure that I have never swallowed one so large."
He smiled and released her neck. She resisted the urge to rub it, not wanting to let him know how much he had scared and hurt her. And then she realized her mistake.
"Well, that'll be another first for you then, but later on." He inhaled deeply, and then frowned, as if something he smelled bothered him. "I shouldn't have done that. Not that you aren't delectable when you're scared," he said as if it were a great compliment. "But you've gone cold on me haven't you?"
He settled himself above her and began to kiss her with those long deep kisses that had stolen her breath earlier. While he held himself above her with one arm, the other hand moved down her body, caressing every curve until she felt his hand moved between her thighs as he pressed two of his fingers inside her.
This she was familiar with. Men often did this almost as if they were testing the temperature of a bath before they got in. But Angelus let his fingers linger, lazily fucking her with them. Her body, which had become tense with the urge to flee, began to relax, and it seemed impossible to hold on to her apprehension when his fingers worked her so expertly. Then his thumb pressed against her most sensitive spot, causing her to gasp into his mouth.
He chuckled, obviously pleased with her reaction. He continued to kiss her and added a third finger. She could once again feel something building inside her womb and it became harder to keep up her kisses as a series of moans escaped from her throat. Just when she thought she couldn't stand it anymore, he pulled his fingers from her.
She whimpered in protest and he chided her. "Didn't I tell you that I wanted to feel you come?"
Then she felt him position the head of his cock at her entrance. Slowly he pushed inside of her, careful not to hurt her, and obviously enjoying every second as his thick cock stretched her to her limits.
Once he was fully seated in her, he paused for a moment, allowing her to adjust, and then he began to slowly thrust in and out of her.
Normally she would have preferred a quicker pace because it meant that the whole messy affair would be over quicker. But she found that she enjoyed the feel of him inside her. At the end of each thrust he seemed to swirl his hips in a way that sent sparks through her body. She found herself matching his rhythm not in the methodical way she normally went about her work, but with real passion, and every moan and cry he elicited from her was genuine.
And all of a sudden it was as if she was bursting apart. She squeezed him tightly about the waist as her body thrashed beneath him.
"That's my girl. . . Fuck. . . Yeah. . . Darla!" he cried as he increased the pace of his thrusts and his own climax hit him. Then he collapsed on top of her.
For just a moment he let his weight settle on her, before rolling off. Instinctively she curled into his side, and began to lay her head on his chest. Then she froze, inwardly cursing herself. Many men didn't like to be touch once they'd finished with a woman, and she started to pull back.
He stopped her and put his arms around her, pulling her back against him.
"It's okay," he told her even though he looked at her almost as if she had grown a second head. "If you haven't figured it yet, I enjoy pleasing you."
She nodded, although there was a kind of arrogance to Angelus that made her suspect that he what he really enjoyed was knowing he'd pleased her more than any other man had.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Angelus's fingers tightened in Elizabeth's hair as he groaned and spilled his seed down the back of her throat. She waited patiently until his hand relaxed. Then she pulled away so that she could fix her hair.
The time he had paid for was almost up, and he had insisted that they be fully dressed for the end. Well, except for his softening dick that hung from the slit in his trousers.
That was only one of the many strange requests he had made. Like the way he had insisted that they keep the curtains drawn all day. Or how although he had encouraged her to eat, he'd had nothing himself, insisting that he had something young and sweet waiting for him at home. Which was strange because earlier he'd given the distinct impression that he'd just arrived in Virginia the night before.
There was one mystery about him that she had figured out, however. Every time his orgasm hit he called her by the same name, Darla. His generosity, both in payment and in the way he treated her, obviously stemmed from the fact that she resembled this Darla woman.
She wondered who Darla was. A woman too highly placed to ever accept him? Another man's wife? For all she knew, Darla was even Angelus' sister. It was hardly the most perverse thing she had come across in her career. What was clear was that for whatever reason, he couldn't have Darla and he saw Elizabeth as the next best thing.
It was both a potentially profitable and dangerous situation to be in especially considering the volatility of this man. She was sure she had done a marvelous job of pleasing him, which suggested that he would be back at her door time and time again. On the other hand, if she wasn't careful, if she took a wrong step and accidentally shattered the illusion he'd created in his mind, there was no telling what he might do.
Yet, so far it seemed she could do no wrong. Perhaps it was that she so closely resembled this Darla woman. Usually when a man used her as a stand in for another woman, he took her from behind so that he wouldn't see the difference in their features. But Angelus insisted on being able to see her face.
Still, she didn't know how she felt about the setting sun. On the one hand she was tired and sore. He had certainly made her work for her money. On the other hand, she enjoyed being with him. He had awakened passions and desires in her that she hadn't known her body was capable of. In some ways it was disturbing, as if he knew her body better than she did, and yet the result was so wonderful.
Yet she couldn't help wondering what she would do once he was gone. And what if never did come back? Or worse, what if the next time he came for her services, he treated her the way the rest of her clients did?
"You shouldn't worry so much," he told her.
"I wasn't-" She stopped. He seemed to be able to read her mind at times. She smiled. "How do you do that?"
He returned her smile. "Haven't I already proved I know more about women than most men?" he asked.
It wasn't much of an answer, she thought.
He stood up and put his hands on her shoulders. "I want you to come with me," he said.
"Come with you? Where?"
"To my home. I want you to be my mistress." He placed a finger on her lips to keep her from interrupting. "I'll give you everything you'll ever need. More luxury than you have ever dreamed of. I can show you wonders, a world, you've never even imagined."
"That is a pretty picture," she admitted. "But I wouldn't be so well off if I believed every promise made to me by a man."
He looked at her angrily, and it almost seemed as if there was something golden flashing in his eyes. "It's a good thing then that I'm a demon not a man," he joked. And yet there was something serious in his voice, just the hint of a threat.
"I am flattered sir," she chose not to call him by the endearment he so loved. "But I know nothing about you, and I'll not give up my independence for the vague promise of luxury."
He shook his head. "There's nothing but ugly death for you here, Dar-Elizabeth. Come with me."
His talk of death sent a shiver down her spine, but she refused to back down. If he was dangerous now, he would still be dangerous if she agreed to go with him. More so if she was dependent on him. And the way he had mixed up her name, caused her to wonder if maybe this Darla hadn't met with a bad end, perhaps at his hands.
"All death is ugly, and it will still be there no matter where you take me," she told him resolutely.
"You're wrong," he said softly. "Death can be art." He reached out to caress the side of her face. "Too bad it will be quite some time before you can appreciate what a masterpiece yours will be."
She took a frightened step back, about to turn on her heel and run. There were knives in the kitchen, a poor weapon against such a large man, but better than nothing.
She never had the chance. In one swift movement he had his hand around her throat. She tried to struggle against him, but no matter how hard she tore at his hand with her nails, he didn't budge, except to draw her closer to him.
"Has anyone ever told you that you smell like cinnamon and apples when you're terrified?" was the last thing she heard as she lost consciousness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Elizabeth woke up coughing. Her throat was sore and bruised but she was still alive, and that was something.
She quickly looked around, searching for Angelus, but he was nowhere to be seen. However, the room she had woken up in was by far the most luxurious room she had ever seen. The large bed was the softest she'd ever lain on, and the burgundy sheets seemed to be silk.
She didn't spend much time taking in the rich decor however, except to wonder at the ladies vanity, on which was spread out brushes, combs, pins, make up, perfume, and everything a lady could want except a mirror.
It was a curiosity, but one that could wait. What was important was getting away before Angelus came back.
The first door she opened led into a closet filled with beautiful dresses that she was willing to bet were cut to fit someone her size.
She hurried to the next door, which was also a dead end, this time into a strange white room, with a tiled floor and walls. There was no regular furniture, only a white tub, a matching basin attached to the wall, and a very oddly shaped chair, also of the same white stone as the tub and the basin.
She didn't bother to try and puzzle out the strange room. Instead she moved on to the last door, which led out into the rest of the apartment.
She quickly moved through the other rooms looking for a way out. Unfortunately the only door that seemed to lead out of the living quarters was firmly locked.
She was about to pull one of the candles down from the wall sconce so that she could examine the door better, when she realized that the rooms weren't lit by candles at all, at least not any natural kind. On top of the white pillars she'd mistaken for wax, sat a glass bulb that had been shaped like a flame. Inside each of these bulbs glowed a strange light, but it wasn't any sort of fire she had ever seen.
As she studied the odd light she laughed. It seemed that as many a priest had warned her, the devil had come for her at last. Or at least one of his demons. Some women she supposed might have screamed or fainted at the notion, but it was almost comforting to Elizabeth. As if she had finally come to the point she'd been headed all her life.
That didn't mean she wasn't going to try and escape. Demon or not, she had no intention of letting Angelus kill her. Her first priority was to find a way out of these rooms and discover where he had taken her. And if she couldn't do that? Well since he had the form and appetites of a man, who was to say he couldn't be killed like a man as well?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You haven't turned her?" Lilah asked.
"Not yet," Angelus replied as he watched Darla–no, Elizabeth, he corrected himself–on the security monitors. "It's much easier to keep a human prisoner than a vampire. Fledglings get so hungry, and if she got out, I wouldn't want her getting spooked by cars and running out into traffic."
That wasn't the real reason he hadn't turned her. He was sure that Wolfram & Hart could easily contain a vampire if they wanted. But she wasn't ready yet. He needed to shape her, to be sure that she retained some of her independence even after he had sired her.
Normally Angelus' games were designed to break his victims. But fear, used judiciously and in just the right amount, could also be used to strengthen a person. By the time he was done with her, this Darla would be as strong and vicious as the one he remembered.
"If you'd grabbed a more current Darla you wouldn't have to worry about that," Lilah pointed out.
"But where would be the fun in that?" he asked.
Angelus didn't know or care if Lilah would understand why he'd made the choice he had. After all, she hadn't known how to tempt him into taking the position as the new CEO of Wolfram & Hart.
When he'd taken his little tour of Wolfram & Hart, she'd tried to seduce him with fast cars, power, and wealth. All things he could easily obtain for himself now that he was rid of his soul and that Jasmine bitch was no longer trying to turn them all into happy little meat puppets.
Then Lilah had pulled her little trick with the necroplast windows. Personally Angelus could care less about staring into the sunlight. But as he looked out over LA, he couldn't help but think that Darla would have loved the view. Not just that, she would have loved the respect and position Wolfram & Hart would give them with the rest of the demon world. It would have been her way in to all the parties that vampires were usually not allowed to attend.
And that's when he knew what Wolfram & Hart could offer him that would make it worth his while to take on the headache of running a law-firm.
The only problem was they said they couldn't resurrect his Darla. Her essence had been pulled between life and death too many times. But they could offer him the next best thing.
As it turned out, between their science and mystical departments, Wolfram & Hart had figured out the basics of time travel. The thing was, you couldn't actually change the past. No matter what you did, when you returned to the present, it would be exactly the same as you left it. The only difference was that now there would be a parallel universe with the changes you had made. So they could send him back to any point in Darla's existence and he could simply bring her back with him to his own present without any consequences.
The possibilities were endless. Although he supposed there could only be so much satisfaction in killing the same person over and over, if they couldn't remember that you had killed another version of them. Of course, if he videotaped peeling the skin off one Buffy, and then showed it to the next one he killed. . .
But Darla was his more immediate interest. His first thought had been to find the Darla that had begged Angel to turn her, and rescue her. His mouth watered at the thought of his sire's blood being hot and human. Even that souled wuss had almost given into the temptation to turn her, although it had taken finding out she was dying to get him thinking straight.
But that was the problem. That Darla would have too many memories of Angelus' contamination with a soul. True she would be grateful to have her boy back, but Wolfram & Hart was offering him a clean slate, a chance to have a Darla who would never have to know about the soul, or all of the things that Angel had done. A Darla he never would have betrayed.
So he had gone back to kidnap the human woman who would become Darla when she was still healthy and in her prime. And Elizabeth was unmistakably Darla, even if she did like to snuggle after sex.
But the best part was that not only would she never know Angel, but she would never know or have any loyalties to the Master either. She would be completely his to shape as he saw fit until he had made her his own perfect Darla.
Continued in Part II here.
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Date: 2007-04-08 02:22 am (UTC)Great work. I want a sequel :)
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Date: 2007-04-08 04:04 am (UTC)And I'm glad you found my Angelus convincing. It's an interesting challenge making him a monster, but still trying to keep him attractive.
As for a sequel. . . maybe. I have some ideas, but they would require a longer story and I have too many WIPs right now.
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Date: 2007-04-08 05:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-08 05:35 am (UTC)And I hope to do a sequel at some point, because Angelus really is a blast to write. Especially since he has to restrain himself or risk 'ruining' Darla.
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Date: 2007-04-10 06:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-12 08:00 pm (UTC)I think I may have a second part to this in May. There's a challenge that would fit what I had in mind perfectly, I just have to find the time to write it.
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Date: 2007-05-10 08:22 pm (UTC)Even if I already knew what you reveal in the last part, I got completely hooked. Your Darla/Elizabeth and your Angelus characterizations are perfect. I loved how Elizabeth's thoughts were so "realistic" even if she was experimenting pleasure for the first time!
Now I'm just wondering if Angelus is going to have as many surprises as Pygmalion has with this Galatea:)
I'm going to friend you, I hope you don't mind: I really don't want to miss the next part.
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Date: 2007-05-10 08:38 pm (UTC)Now I'm just wondering if Angelus is going to have as many surprises as Pygmalion has with this Galatea:)
You know it's funny, when I was putting up my banner request post, I went to double check on the myth to make sure I was explaining it right, and all the versions I found said that Pygmalion and Galatea lived happily ever after. But that's not the version I remember learning. . . whenever it was I learned the story. I always remembered her leaving him, and it sounds like you knew a similar version.
In any case, things are bound to be more complicated than Angelus thinks they will be.
And please feel free to add me as a friend. I just went and friended you, cause I know I've seen a lot of your art before, and also seen you replying to a lot of stories I've read and stuff like that.
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Date: 2007-05-10 08:57 pm (UTC)Don't get me started, I could rant a lot ;)
I've copied "The Guardian" and will read it offline as my eyes are crossing right now... but I already love the subject :)