D M Evans
Fandom - Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Disclaimer - Not mine. They belong to Joss. I’m just having non profit fun
Rating - R for sexual themes and nudity
Time Line - 1880's, Scotland
Pairing - Angelus/Darla, Spike/Dru
Summary - Angelus and Spike regret having their grand plans overheard
Author’s Note - written for the Lyrical ficathon. The lyrics were:
No need for Lucifer to fall if he’d learn to keep his mouth shut.
Perfect World -- Liz Phair
“Was this not everything I promised?” Angelus asked, clamping a hand on Spike’s shoulder as the vampires passed each other in the carpeted hall.
Wild-eyed and glutted, reeking of sex and blood, Spike grinned widely, pounding on his elder’s back. “You found the garden of earthly delights.”
Angelus made a half-hearted attempt to straighten out his queue but gave up. It wasn’t as if he needed to be presentable to a whore anyhow. Neither man even bothered to lace up their trousers after their last encounters with what was left of the occupants of the Glasgowian brothel. They had screwed and slaughtered their way through the lesser whores and every john they caught. “And I saved the best for last, the ripest plums this place had to offer.”
Angelus swaggered his way to the room he had left the loveliest pair of prostitutes, tied up and tossed on the bed. “Aren’t they the best toffers you’ve ever seen?”
Spike smirked, running a hand through his curling, sweat-soaked hair. “I want the blonde.”
Angelus tossed a restraining arm across the smaller vampire’s chest. “Blondes are always mine. Still, that one is a fine-looking red-head.” He pointed to the second prostitute.
Spike rolled his shoulders. “She is that.”
Angelus grabbed the blonde, his face shifting to its demonic form. “I want to hear you scream, love.” He pulled the gag out of her mouth and she didn’t really oblige him. “I think she’s fainted.”
“That takes the fun out of it.” Spike made a face. “Mine’s not very sturdy either.”
Angelus sniffed. “Does something smell off?”
“Who can smell anything will all this perfume?” Spike’s voice was muffled under the prostitute’s skirts.
Shrugging, Angelus flipped the blonde’s skirts over her head. “Let’s have a look at Miss Laycock.” Angelus buried his head between her legs, opening a vein there while he was at it.
After several minutes, Spike fell away from the prostitute he had been feeding from and landed on his back side. “Everything’s getting warped and hazy.”
Angelus slithered off the bed into a heap. “Damn it...the smell. They’re full of laudanum.”
The drug sucked both vampires down into unconscious quickly. They never saw two decidedly female figures entering the room, smiles on their moon-hued faces.
“This is beyond the pale,” Spike moaned, sounding far more like William than the hardened thug he was trying to mold himself into.
“We have no choice,” Angelus growled, cuffing the irritating younger vampire hard. He needed somewhere to vent his rage. “Too many windows in here and no access to the sewers from the basement. We have to get out of here before dawn.”
The younger vampire eyed him as if he expected a better solution from his ersatz sire. Angelus had awoken first to find that he and Spike had been stripped naked and left in each other’s arms. He didn’t move fast enough, the opiate he had drank making his limbs into lead, and Spike woke up while they were still entwined. They sorted themselves out only to find not only were they naked so were all the dead occupants of the house. Every stitch of clothing had been removed from the wardrobes. The bedding and curtains were gone. Even the throw rugs had been taken. There was no possible way of covering up. Someone had went so far as to steal the bow Angelus used for his queue and his long hair spilled wildly into his face. At least he could hide that part of him.
“We’re all the way across town from our homes,” Spike grumbled, shooting a look at Angelus that implied this was all his fault.
“You have a better idea, Spike?” Angelus glared down at him.
Spike cowed. “Just saying is all. It’s not like a carriage will stop for us in this condition.”
“Fine, we make a run for it.”
Spike just stared at Angelus as if to say ‘you first.’ Angelus squared his shoulders and smoothed back his hair.
“Head high,” he instructed. “We’ve nothing to be ashamed of.”
“We’re bloody naked.”
Angelus ignored him and tried to keep all expression off his face as he stepped out onto the cobbled streets. At least no one was around but he knew that couldn’t last. They’d have to go through the center of town. Spike skulked around in his wake, using Angelus’ bigger body as a shield. By the time they went a few blocks unnoticed, Angelus convinced himself this was nothing of importance to him.
It lasted until they neared the public houses and other denizens of the night. The vampires ignored the gasps, curses, jeers and calls for the police, and strolled along slowly with as much dignity as they could muster. Angelus spotted two familiar figures under the gas light.
“I’m going to kill them,” he grumbled, nodding at the vampiresses.
“Not if I do it first,” Spike added.
Darla and Drusilla giggled at them then started walking abreast of their demonic children, their skirts daintily lifted so not to drag into horse apples. “It’s not often you see two gentlemen strolling about without a stitch on, Drusilla.” Darla batted her eyes at them coquettishly.
“It’s like a parade. All they need is flowers, Grand mummy.” Drusilla plucked some from the tussy- mussy she carried and tried to tuck them behind the men’s ears. They shoved her away. Drusilla pouted at them, stamping a dainty foot.
“You’ll pay for this, Darla.” Angelus shoved a finger at her.
“Me? You stupid fool, you got just what you deserved. We’ve been hearing about this wonderful brothel and everything you two were going to do to the trollops when you got here.” Darla’s face darkened. “Drusilla and I are sick to death about your great plans that don’t extend beyond the woefully short yardstick of your cock.”
Angelus went to slap her across the mouth but Darla caught his hand easily. Dru feinted at his backside with the end of the tussy-mussy and Angelus danced away, not sure where she thought she was going to put that bouquet. He was reminded in an instant who really ran their family and it was the very irate blonde glaring at him now.
“Did you have to take our ruddy clothes?” Spike pouted.
“Spike’s been naughty. He needs a lesson,” Drusilla said, laying her hand across his buttocks with a loud slap. Spike yelped.
“Of course we did. Truly there is no need for Lucifer to fall if he’d learn to keep his mouth shut.” Darla raised an eyebrow. “I’m all for doing the devil’s work. However, if you two wanted to act like brainless Lotharios, you should have just not spoken about it where Drusilla and I could overhear.”
“Made us feel all unwanted.” Huge crocodile tears formed in Dru’s eyes and rolled down her heart-shaped face.
“This doesn’t bother me,” Angelus informed them with an arrogant toss of his hair.
“Really?” Darla’s tone was several shades of disbelief. She waved her hand towards his crotch. “They both look a little shy to me.”
“It’s cold,” Angelus and Spike said in one voice.
Drusilla and Darla’s laughter rang through the streets. Darla turned to the dark-haired vampiress. “Do you believe them, Dru?”
“Not at all, Grand mummy.”
“Fine.” Angelus threw his arms open wide and marched down the street. “Eyes on me, Glasgow. A god walks among you.”
Spike tapped Angelus’ shoulder then nodded up the street. “Um, god, we have a new problem.”
Angelus glanced over his shoulder. His eyes bulged. “Damn, rozzers!”
He and Spike broke into a flat out run as the police started chasing them down. Drusilla and Darla just watched them go, laughing so hard they had to hold on to one another to remain standing.
“I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anything as funny as a naked man running.” Darla wiped tears of mirth from her eyes.
“All wobbly, wobbly, wobbly.” Dru made side to side motions with her hands and the ladies laughed harder.
Getting herself back under control, Darla took Dru’s hand. “We’d better hurry before they get back and lock us out of the house.”
“The stars whisper that our boys will be slow to learn their lessons,” Drusilla said as the women started running, their heels clattering along.
“Well, then we’ll just have to punish our naked boys good and hard tonight,” Darla said.
They shared a hungry lusty smile at the thought. Whips, chains, leather and holy water were batted about as ideas for proper punishment. Darla opted for them all. She’d teach her errant son what it was to so easily forget she had a woman’s sensitivity to her man going to a brothel. He’d enjoy learning his place.