(no subject)

[eloise-bright.livejournal.com]

This is set in the switchverse, where Wesley was assigned to Buffy first, rather than Giles. Previous ficlets are here

TITLE: Whiskey Lullaby
RATING: R for inferred violence and dark themes
PAIRING: Angelus/Wesley
NOTES: Set alternate S2 ep "Belonging part 2". Title and cut text quote from "Whiskey Lullaby" by Brad Paisley and Alison Krauss.





“You know, Wes, one of the joys of being a vampire, apart from the whole biting and feeding thing, which is, incidentally, one of my favourites, second only to the torturing and the maiming thing, which you’re clearly getting and… sorry, there I go again, rambling.” Angelus gave his cheek a gentle pat.

“Got to stop doing that. See, that’s what comes of soul boy hanging around your Slayer. She could never shut up. I think half the demons just topped themselves out of boredom.” He grinned broadly.

“Right, sorry. Focus. As I was saying, one of the funnest things about vampirism is the heightened senses. You know, the whole superhero deal. Supersonic hearing, x-ray vision…” His finger traced a path under Wesley’s left eye socket. “Gee, now that was insensitive of me. Sorry, Watcher.”

He lifted Wesley’s glasses and placed them on his own nose, blinking as he examined Wesley through the spectacles. He gave a low whistle. “You are blind, aren’t you? How the hell did you manage without these?” He laughed nastily. “Guess we’re going to find out. Or get you a monocle. Yes, you’d make a perfect Lord Peter.”

“Now, where was I? Ah yes. Taste.” He lifted his fingers from Wesley’s face and licked one appreciatively. “Mm, salty.”

“Sorry, getting distracted again. But as much as I love the taste, and believe me, I do, I love the scent better.” Now Angelus leaned in very close, his face inches from Wesley’s. “You’re a whiskey man, Wesley, Soul Boy loved that about you. You like the Islays. Personally I’m thinking antiseptic loch water, but each to his own. And you do the whole nosing thing, I bet.”

Angelus sniffed appreciatively. “I’m getting abject loathing, with just a hint of fear and… “ he inhaled again. “Ah, yes. Bottom notes of self-disgust. A wonderfully tempting bouquet, Wesley.”

“But I’m not totally happy with the blend, just yet. I think it could be better. I’m getting defiance, which, don’t get me wrong, I like; but I don’t think you’ve quite grasped the gravity of your situation.”

Angelus sat back and chewed his lip thoughtfully. “Before, when Dru did her Daddy Dearest impersonation, your scent was irresistible. All that delicious terror. You’re more scared of him than you are of a bloodsucking vampire with a torture kink. Kudos, Mr Wyndam-Pryce Senior. I bow to the master.”

He stood and made a mock bow, bending his head low. Then brought it up with a snarl, suddenly transformed into game face, his teeth inches from Wesley’s bared neck. “I’m curious, Wesley. What would get me that blend? The threat of death? Nah, expect they prepare you for that at Watcher school.”

“I know what scares you.” He licked along the jugular vein, then sniffed the air. “The thought of eternity as a soulless monster. That’s it. And now I’m wondering; do you think the eye will grow back?

He pushed Wesley’s head back, and eyed his neck appreciatively. “Let’s find out.”