For
kidcyclone who has entertained me so with her Fanged Four antics I felt I had to give something back!
Alas, I never got the bloodplay into this - hope you can forgive me. Plus, it being Christmas Eve Eve, I got darned holidayish while writing and had to have it be winter, despite William's turning NOT being in winter (near as I can tell) so they, um... went north. Yeah. That's the ticket. :)
Very mild Spangelus, really.
PAIRING: Fanged Four/ Angelus/William
GENRE: Slash
RATING: R or NC-17
DETAILS: It's William's first 'birthday' and the family are having a party. I'd like a happy family with bloodplay, daddy!kink, spankings and slashiness, as well as William being spoiled with lots of nice pressies and attention and affection. No members of the family dislike any other members although snarkiness along the lines of Angelus snarking about the Master are okay.
Requested by kidcyclone on January 16, 2007.
1881
“Has it been a year already?” Angelus glanced up from his paper.
“It will be, come Thursday.” Darla crossed the parlor in a rustle of silk, on some inscrutable, female mission. “Honestly, Angelus. You wouldn’t notice the holidays were coming if you didn’t get a kill with plum pudding on her breath.”
Angelus scowled. “I notice.” He folded the paper. “I just don’t care.”
“Angelus!”
“Well, I didn’t see old bat-face crawling out of his sewer to give ME a first birthday party.”
Darla swayed across the room, her hips accentuated by her polonaise skirt. “Darling, you look positively petulant!” She draped herself across his lap. “Was I such a terrible sire when you were one? Remember the party we had? That lovely church choir?”
Angelus’ glower melted into a fond remembrance. “Already you knew my love for religion.”
“You didn’t exactly hide it, dear boy. If we can trust her to remember her part in the plan for a full day, Drusilla will be taking William out hunting and keeping him busy while we get ready here. Now I’ve sent to David’s for cake. With any luck it should come with a fresh delivery boy…”
“But does it have to be a surprise party? Surely the boy would want it to be dignified?”
Darla smoothed Angelus’ collar. “He’ll protest, I’m sure, and act offended to assuage male pride, but love it. Just like you love all my surprises.”
Angelus squeezed her well-boned waist, running his hands over the fine silk of her gown. “That I do. All right, I give. What do I have to do?”
“YOU have to arrange the presents!” Darla laid a gloved finger on his nose and laughed at his sudden look of panic. “I have something small already, but I’m sure Drusilla will need a present brought for her, or we’ll have to suffer through another animal or baby.”
“Go out?” Angelus looked miserably at the window. They’d been traveling north a while and the Icelandic town just made Angelus feel cold and bored. (Of COURSE he hadn’t known the season - it had been steadily more winter every week and he KNEW it wasn’t November yet.)
“Oh you enormous child!” Darla swatted him playfully and slipped off his lap. “Imagine if I couldn’t have been bothered to go out for your birthday! The sulk I would have faced!”
She smiled then, lashes lowered, as she beheld exactly the sulk she was thinking of.
***
Angelus went out with every intent of dutiful shopping, but found himself wandering near the church, smiling at the candlelight flickering through stained glass, the muted music passing through the wall. What could be better for a birthday than an organist or an altar boy? Angelus sighed in fond remembrance and idly wondered how long it would take to steal a cassock…
No. No. Not shopping for me! He shook his head and forced his boots to turn away from the church. William. Think of William.
He stopped in the middle of the street, suddenly and completely aware that he had no idea at all what William liked. He wracked his brain. NOT being whipped. NOT having to do his chores. Wearing disgraceful rags instead of the nice clothes his grandsire stole for him. None of these things were good gift ideas.
Angelus sighed heavily and headed down toward the bad side of town. Maybe a good whore. But none of the people on the street were looking especially tasty, especially interesting. First Death-Day worthy. Angelus kicked a stone. It ricocheted off a fencepost and, to his utter delight, cracked a stained panel in a church window.
He looked at the feathering crack and a smile grew on his face.
Angelus turned on his heel and headed uptown, whistling a jaunty tune.
***
“It’s not time yet!”
William sighed. “Drusilla! We’ve been up and down this boring town. I want to go home and get warm.”
“Please. One more walk around the lake! There are pretty frozen stars!”
“They aren’t stars, petal, they’re ice-bound rocks. As in ice cold out here and my bollocks are going to fall off. We aren’t going to find anything good to eat tonight so let’s just have what’s in the larder. Think Angelus left a parlor-maid half-full.”
Drusilla jumped on his back, wrapping her legs around him from behind, a chaotic rumpling of skirts and petticoats with bare calves underneath. He laughed as she growled and tried to wrestle him down. They fell together into the frost-tinted grass and rolled, leaving a path of fresher green in their wake.
At last Drusilla was on top, triumphant, her coiffure completely undone, hair drooping haphazardly over her high forehead. “Naughty Willy! You shan’t have any cake!”
He grinned and touched his tongue to his teeth. “Going to punish me?” He bucked up and she squealed with delight, forgetting all of what transpired before as readily as a melting snowflake.
And then he tossed her off. “Ha! I knew you were stalling me, pet! What’s at home? Catch me if you can!”
Drusilla righted herself and pouted as William raced off into the night on a bee-line for home.
And then Dru forgot why she was keeping William from home, only seeing that there was a RACE happening and she wanted to win. She hauled up two handfuls of skirt and took off as fast as she could.
***
Darla was humming to herself, draping a paper streamer along the parlor-wall when the front door banged open and a bedraggled William skidded to a stop against the pilaster by the parlor-door. A rumpled ball of skirts and Drusilla slammed into him, giggling madly.
Darla sighed a long-suffering sigh and tied off the streamer. “Well, I suppose that’s done as done will get. Angelus! The children are home! God save us.”
William staggered into the parlor, gaping at the tastefully arranged flowers, the tea-table laden with sweets, and the cake delivery boy all tied up in silver ribbons by the fire. “Having some kind of fete tonight, madam?”
“Yes, William, and you are a mess! Take Drusilla upstairs and get cleaned up, the both of you.”
The boy scowled. “You were gonna have a party without me an’ Dru.”
Darla laughed. “It’s YOUR birthday, silly boy! Now the sooner you get cleaned up the sooner we open your presents!”
His eyes were impossibly wide and Darla felt a surge of delight, not missing her planned surprise entrance one bit. She waved at the children to ‘shoo’ them. After a beat of pure, stunned gaping, William turned and he and Drusilla ran up the stairs in a cacophony of footsteps.
“Well,” Darla said without turning, “Did you get the presents?”
Angelus stepped into the parlor from the library. “You expect me to say ‘no’?”
Darla chuckled and turned to face him, one hand idly falling to her breast. “Not unless you think William would enjoy watching his grandsire be punished as a birthday present.”
Angelus shifted uneasily, which was so cute with how he was trying to look bored and unafraid at the same time. “I found something. We’ll be eating first, right?”
Darla chose not to answer, instead going up to her darling boy and adjusting his cravat. She smiled and he scowled and then they both smiled, leaning closer to kiss. “This should be fun,” Darla assured.
The children arrived with the requisite clatter and stomping like a herd of elephants. Darla turned, knowing that she and Angelus made an imposing pair, staring down their offspring.
William had fastened his shirt properly for probably the first time all year. Drusilla had changed into a shirt-waist and woolen skirt, and was obviously NOT wearing her corset, her breasts soft, dark nipples just detectable behind the lacy top.
“Well, I suppose they’ll have to do, Angelus.”
Angelus put his large hands on Darla’s waist. “Barely,” he said. “Do we start with the spanking?”
William straightened with a betrayed look. Darla laughed. “He’s only one, Angelus. It’ll be hardly an entertaining spanking.”
Drusilla jumped up and down, her little breasts bobbing free. “I’m nearly ten! Mummy give ME a spanking!”
“Nearly ten. Do you hear her, Angelus? Girl doesn’t know she’s almost twenty.”
“It’s easy to lose track. Sweetling, it’s not YOUR birthday. I’ll give ye an extra-special spanking all your own tomorrow. But today we each get to give William one good smack. Ye can count to one, can’t you, precious?”
Drusilla gave her daddy an arch smirk that said she certainly could and one quicker-than-the-eye moment later William was leaping forward and almost a foot in the air.
“Dru!” He grabbed his own buttocks with both hands. “Bloody hell!”
Drusilla smiled and twisted her shoulders in mock contrition. “Only get the one smack. Had to make it count.”
Angelus felt a swell of excitement in his nether-regions and wanted to hold off and savor it. “Darla? Will you be next?”
“Well, I’ll not leap on the boy so artlessly,” Darla said, and slipped out of Angelus’ grip to settle on the settee. “Come, dear little one,” she beckoned, arranging her skirts.
William advanced warily. “Why does every special occasion around here have to involve PAIN?”
“We’re vampires, dear,” Darla said simply, giving her ruffles one last smooth down and patting her lap.
“Are you… going to make him drop trou?” Angelus tried to suppress his eagerness.
Darla lifted an eyebrow at him. “Of course.”
William rolled his eyes. “It’s all an elaborate ploy to look at my bum.”
“I’d hardly call it ‘elaborate’,” Darla countered, pressing her dainty lips tightly together as she watched William undo his flies.
William made sure to give an expressive sigh as he flopped over her knee, as though much put-upon, but he was smiling, and like a good boy he supported his weight with his elbows on the settee cushion so as not to crush madam’s lap.
Darla had her favorite Chinese folding fan at the ready. It was a delightful piece with good, hard slats of ivory. She tapped it a few times against her palm in test. “One smack is hardly what you deserve, young man, to call up all the naughtiness you’ve achieved in your first year of death.” She raised her fan and tilted her head, smiling demurely down at him. “I’m VERY proud of you.”
The fan came down with a whistling crack and William flinched nearly off her lap. She laid her lace-gloved hand on the reddening flesh and stroked it fondly. “Really, it is a shame to stop at one.”
“My turn!” Angelus said, rubbing his hands.
William started to get up, but Darla restrained him with a gentle press to the back of his neck. “I presume you’ll go for a simple bare hand, darling?”
Angelus groaned. “It’s a terrible choice! I only get one?”
“Yes, dear. Remember, it’s not YOUR birthday.”
Angelus pulled a leather strop from his pocket and stroked it fondly.
“Oy!” said William, “I’m not spending all night down here!”
Angelus fretted a bit, looking from the strop to that pert, pink little backside - and how lovely it was offset by Darla’s crimson gown! Finally he shoved the strop back in his pocket and laid one large hand gently on William’s ass. He caressed it, feeling the shape and smoothness, until he felt he was cupping the PERFECT part of that perfect rear, the fullest turn of the cheek. He patted twice to assure himself, then reached back and let fly the hardest stroke he could.
The warmth in his own hand was delicious, the feel of that cheek compressing, and the yelp of pain, which he was proud to note was more strained than any William had given so far that night.
“Very good, very good, now off my lap!” Darla tapped William’s head with her fan. “We have the first presents to open!”
The delivery boy by the fire started, as if knowing this meant him.
Drusilla danced around the cake-table. “Presents! Presents! Open MINE first, Willy!”
“William,” William corrected automatically, though his smile lost none of its power as he crossed the room to take in the trussed-up delivery boy. “Is this for me?”
“Just an appetizer. He came with the cake,” Darla said. “Drusilla, dearest, go fetch your presents for William.”
The delivery boy twisted in his bounds, making pleading noises. William smiled wickedly and started untying him.
“Oh! Do be careful! Your nice white shirt!” Darla exclaimed.
“It’s no fun if they don’t struggle a little, mum!” William batted his eyelashes in the most adorably insincere way and finished removing the bright silver ribbons and twine from the delivery boy, who immediately leapt up and nearly upset the cake table.
William snatched him by the foyer and sank his teeth in.
“Tasty!” William declared, and tossed the now limp body to Angelus, who readily finished him off (with less gusto and more tidiness, Darla was relieved to see.)
“Mm. Kosher. Love that sweetness. Think it comes from all that syrupy wine they drink.”
Drusilla skipped into the room with a brightly-colored box in her hand and a young gentleman following her with dazed expression.
“Open the box first,” Darla admonished as William gaped at the gentleman, who wore a very tasteful blue wool suit and a hypnotized expression.
“Is that who I think it is?” William asked, not looking at the box wrapped in oil-patterned paper.
Drusilla nodded excitedly. “Had to send all the way to London! I sent a telegram! Mummy helped!”
William shook his head, beaming. “My old rival! How did you even know how much I hate this git? Dru, you’re a marvel!” He let her put the package in his hands, and turned his attention away from the glassy-eyed victim long enough to rip the paper and tear the cardboard box to shreds, revealing a stout set of chains and manacles that fell partially to the floor as William navigated the paper mess. “Oh, these are capital!”
“Very strong. Grar!” Dru grabbed a chain and yanked it in demonstration.
Darla applauded. “Very well done. Didn’t she do well, Angelus?”
Angelus bit his lower lip. “Um. Yeah.” How could he hope to top THAT?
William lifted Drusilla by her hips and was whirling her around the room in a protracted thank-you kiss.
“Time for my gifts, darlings!” Darla said, ringing the servant’s bell.
Chester, their chief minion, pushed a pastry-cart into the room laden with parcels.
William whooped merrily and tore into them. “Oh my, Madam!” he held aloft a fine ridding crop from the first parcel and winked at Darla. “Impeccable taste, as always.”
“Well, someone has to have some,” she countered playfully. She sat down to watch the remainder of the present opening, her head propped on one delicate finger, fair bursting with amusement.
She noticed that Angelus kept glancing into the library, as though checking that something was still there. No doubt his own contribution to the night’s festivities.
William was showing the array of toys he’d just received to Drusilla, who was eagerly taking them up, laying the flogger against her breast, caressing a leather cuff.
“But, grandmummy,” she asked, “not a single dolly? Oh!” She pulled a wooden phallus from its box. “Here he is. Such a nice dolly!”
William looked slightly worried, noticing the leather straps attached to said phallus. “I thought you said it wasn’t Dru’s birthday!”
“Are you displeased with your gifts?” Darla asked with perfect lack of emotion that was itself the biggest red flag a vampire could detect.
“Love them!” William threw himself at Darla, landing as enthusiastic a thank-you kiss on her lips as he had on Dru’s.
Darla laughed and batted him away as he licked her neck. “Children, children! We have yet to see Daddy’s presents!” She looked expectantly to Angelus.
Angelus cleared his throat. “Right,” he said. Then scowled. “Don’t you think this is too much? You’re spoiling the boy.”
“Angelus.” She raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” William said, touching his tongue to his teeth. “I been a good boy, Daddy. What do I get?”
“Yes, well, I thought long and hard on what to get you, William,” the older vampire clasped his hands behind his back and took a subtle step toward the library. “Something that you would genuinely want.”
“Weapons? A new blade? They have these knives, now, that swing on a spring into the handle…”
The look on Angelus’ face clearly said ‘Oh. I could have gotten one of those.’ So William knew that WASN’T what he was getting. He advanced on his grandsire. “Or is it another tasty morsel? Some rich society matron, all dripping with pearls and arrogance?”
Oo, Angelus thought, I should have remembered he liked taking out high society. “Um… no. Just… come with me, boy. To the library.”
“Not fair, Daddy! We want to see Willy’s present too!”
“William,” William said.
“The girl’s right.” Darla stood, brandishing her fan. “We should all see.”
If Angelus were capable of blushing, he would have. He nudged his head anxiously toward the library again, taking a step backward. William easily closed the space between them. “C’mon, Daddy. Give. Whatcha got for your number one boy?”
“I wanted to get you something you really wanted,” Angelus whispered.
“Yeah. We covered that.” William ran a hand teasingly up and down Angelus’ jacket.
Angelus’ hand tightened on the strop in his pocket. “It’s just…”
“C’mon, spill! You’re not doing yourself any favors holding out the suspense. Wait too long and I’ll be disappointed even if it’s a bleedin’ elephant with a golden pagoda on top!”
Angelus pulled out his strop. William’s eyes widened. “What? You got me a thrashin’? I get that every bloody…”
Angelus growled in frustration, somehow, through inhuman will, keeping himself from smacking the boy across his cheek. “Go. Into. The. Library.”
The boy stumbled backward under the force of that glare and hurried into the library, the curtain in the archway swaying with the speed of his passing.
“Dear boy, what are you up to?” Darla asked, rising from her chair.
“Just… a moment,” Angelus said, one finger raised.
He found William looking around the library expectantly. “Well, what is it? There’s nothing here!”
“Violence.”
William raised an eyebrow.
“I know what you like more than anything else. For me, it’s nuns, but for you it’s violence. So I’m going to take you out. Just the two of us. There’s a bar in the next town where men wrestle for prizes. I thought we could… you know… beat them up.” He shrugged.
William’s confused expression widened into a smile. “Is that all? Why couldn’t you say so in front of the girls?”
“Because I’m also giving you this.” Angelus swept William into his arms and planted a hard kiss on the boy’s lips. “Because the very best violence is one-on-one,” he purred.
William laughed. “Yes, Daddy!”
When the book-case in the library fell over with a sound like a rain of stones, Darla bolted to the archway in shock, but soon she heard the laughter underneath the sounds of struggle. “Well, well,” she turned her head to Drusilla, who was happily playing with Wililam’s presents by the tea-table. “Come, Drusilla. We can’t let the boys have all the fun.”
“Oo! Yes, grandmummy!” Drusilla hurried after Darla, who entered the library with a sedate pace, stopping only to pick up the riding crop from the cake-table.