Chevachee – Details

Teaser

'Why is he called the Scourge of Europe?’ I asked Dru once.

‘Hush, love. Don’t fret.’

‘Yes but why? What’s he actually done that’s so special?’

She wouldn’t answer, only sank down between my knees and gave me other things to think about, but I still wondered.

Being a vampire hadn’t turned out like I’d expected. I was about four years turned then and still having a pretty tough time of it. ‘It’ in that sentence being mostly summed up as Angelus. Angelus’s fists, belt and anything else he felt like using on me. His petty obsessions and ever changing demands. His endless talent for finding new ways of controlling me. His continuous fucking presence, in both senses of the word. His owning me.

And the other side. The fact that he could teach me things I was desperate to learn. That he kept me alive when by rights I should have been killed after about the first week. That he had made Dru and allowed me to be with her. That he was making me a vampire, which is the best bloody thing in the world. That my heart jumped every time he looked on me with approval. That I belonged to him.

Quite poetical really.

Anyway, after four years, just when I thought I knew it all, I finally got to find out.

We were in a house in… God knows where it was – they all seemed the same after a while. Somewhere in England. Probably one of the poncier areas of London. We were never allowed to go anywhere exciting. And we’d got there by the usual bloody routine: Darla, who could worm her way into anybody’s favour if she chose to, had sweet talked the neighbours or an agent or something to find us a large house in a quiet district where the owners had gone away. Then we’d charmed an invitation inside, which was my Princess’s speciality, and killed the resident servants slowly (very slowly in Angelus’s case) which meant we’d had nothing to eat but whining flunkies for the first week or so whilst we settled in. After a few weeks Angelus would announce that the hunting was starting to dry up, and it would be time to move on; there’d be a day or so of cleaning up and then we’d be off. The owners would return and blame the vanished staff, and no-one would ever be the wiser that vampires had been there at all.

Then we’d do the whole thing again.

Read on…

Disclaimer

Buffy The Vampire Slayer and Angel, and all the characters in them, are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Twentieth Century Fox, the WB, UPN, and just about everybody else on the planet except me. I acknowledge this fully; and I promise I’m only playing with them without hope of profit. I will put them back in the box carefully when I’m done and apologise if they got a bit hurt while I was using them. But come on, they are vampires, they can probably take it.

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