Title: Sweet Irish Brogue                                
Author: Kat, a.k.a. KallieRose
E-mail: [email protected]
Rating: NC-17, possibly including non-consensual sex, depending on your point of view.  This is a very dark story.
Pairing: Fred/Angelus
Disclaimer: I acknowledge Joss Whedon as god of gods.  All the characters in this story are his creation, along with Fox, the rest of the Mutant Enemy Crew, and whomever else wants to lay claim to them.  I'm merely killing time by putting them in totally unrealistic situations  :-)
Summary: Based on Angelus' line to Fred in Calvary:  You know, I had a bit of an Irish brogue back in the day.  If you like, I can use it on you when I rape you to death.
Spoilers: Takes place during season 4 of Angel.  Spoilers for Supersymmetry and Calvary

Sweet Irish Brogue

Fred sat quietly on the stairs leading down to the basement, Angelus’ words and cruel laughter dancing through her mind.

“You know, I had a bit of an Irish brogue back in the day.  If you like, I can use it on you when I rape you to death…”

She shivered again as the words touched something deep inside of her.  They touched the darkness that had been growing in her heart ever since the day she had vowed to kill Professor Seidel.

Gunn was right, she realized now.  Well, partly right, at least.  He had been afraid that if he allowed her to kill the professor, he would lose her.  So he had killed Seidel for her, and now he would lose her anyway.  For it wasn’t the actual deed that had changed her, it was the wishing for it to happen that fed the darkness in her heart.

Since that day, the darkness had grown, its power becoming strong within her.  Before, when she fought, she went for the quick kill.  Get in, do the job, and get out.  But now, things were different.  No matter how much she fought to deny it, no matter how much the others tried to ignore it, a small part of her got off on the killing.  She lived for the nights, when she would once again have the power of life and death over these creatures, these demons.

Now that the sun was banished completely from the sky, the call of the darkness was even stronger.  She could barely resist it now as it was; soon Fred was sure she would not want to resist its pull at all.

And just where was it pulling her?  Why, towards Angelus, of course.  He was the master of darkness.  Once again his words danced in her head.  The words that seemed to her to be a promise, but appeared to be a threat to others.  “I can use it when I rape you to death.”  The words weren’t gentle, weren’t spoken in tones of love and desire.  They were about pain and hatred and darkness. 

One part of her brain, the part that was all about statistics and figures and formulas, that part was horrified.  Shocked that the beast wearing her friend’s familiar body would say such awful words.  Shocked even more when she realized that he meant them. 

She knew that the rest of her should be terrified and revolted as well, but it wasn’t.  That part of her brain, the part that was quickly gaining ground, was excited.  *That* part of her longed for the cruelty and pain that his words promised.  Desired the flick of the whip as it bit into her skin, the feel of his cock as he drove it into her body, the sound of her screams as he drained her blood.

‘What the hell was taking her so long,’ Angelus wondered, as he paced back and forth in his cage.  He could sense her, high up at the top of the stairs.  Even now, he could practically hear the activity in her brain, the war between the two sides of her psyche.  He had known she would be listening earlier, would hear his words, and would not be able to resist the temptation, to see where the dark road would take her.

The soul had seen it too, of course.  Had seen Fred start to slide towards the darkness.  His do-gooder alter ego had tried to ignore the problem, so seemingly insignificant amongst the larger catastrophes that had become his life.  That shortsightedness was about to pay off, for Angelus, at least.

‘Well this will never do,’ he thought to himself.  ‘In fact, this is just downright boring.  Guess I’ll just have to make the next move myself.  Give her a little encouragement.’

“Ohhh Fred,” he called, his soft voice sing-songing the words.  He heard a sharp intake of breath, a slight movement above him, and then her hesitant tone called down to him.

“What do you want Angelus?” Her tired, bitter voice rang heavy with conflicted emotions and confusion.

“I just want to talk, that’s all.  Maybe apologize for what I said earlier.”  He paused, giving her a moment to consider.  When she stayed silent, he continued, “It’s awfully boring down here, all by my lonesome, you know.  The least that Angel could have done was pipe in some cable TV.” 

“You don’t want to talk, you want to manipulate,” the words floated down to him.  She sounded scared.  Confused, scared, and just a little curious.  Time to play on that curiosity, he decided.  The girl was too smart for her own good.  That inquisitive nature was going to get her in trouble every time.

“No, I really do want to talk.  Come down here Fred.  Please.”  That last word worked every time, he knew.  Even the toughest-hearted bitch couldn’t resist it, and Fred was far from being that strong.

Just as he expected, he began to sense some activity above.  Within seconds he heard the sounds of quiet footfalls, then saw Fred slowly inch her way down the stairs, leaning slightly into the wall. 

Her hair was an auburn mask in the darkness of the stairway.  He caught glimpses of her light-colored face as the hair brushed past it.  Finally, she came to the last step and sat down again, her arms coming up automatically to encircle her bent knees.  She rested her pale face on her knees and sat there, her gaze contemplating the figure before her.

“So I hear things are getting a little hairy up there,” he nodded his head upwards. “The whole testosterone thing between Wes and Gunn seems to be coming to a head.  My money’s on ol’ Wes, but Gunn’s a pretty strong contender too.  What do you think?  Ya wanna give me a little inside information on who holds the key to your heart?  Whose hands on your sweet body make your heart pound?  Enquiring minds want to know,” he finished, giving her a smile and a friendly wink.

“Just…just shut up,” she muttered, not even giving him the courtesy of an indignant look.

Silence filled the room again; its quiet darkness became oppressive and constricting.  Angelus tried once more.

“So just why are you down here?” he asked.  “Is all the posturing upstairs getting to you?  Did you need a quiet place to sit and think?  Or,” and his voice got harder, rougher, “are you reveling in the attention?  Waiting for the boys to fight over you so you can choose a winner?  Is that what gets you off?”

She stood to face him, just a few steps outside of the yellow “no-go” zone.  The fire was back in her brown eyes.  They shone with such intensity and hatred that he almost stepped back away from the bars.  Almost. 

“I’m not like that!  Don’t you say that I am.  I—I care about them both.  I do.  But it’s—it’s complicated.  That’s all.”

‘Just a few steps closer little one, and you’re all mine,’ he thought to himself.  Would it really be this easy?  Just a few more of her buttons to push and she’ll forget all about what was safe, what she *should* do. 

“It’s not really that complicated, now, is it?  Either you love one, or you love the other.  You’re a smart girl.  Put that little brain of yours to work and figure it out.  Unless you’re waiting for a third offer…?”

He grabbed the bars in front of him, gripping them tightly in his large hands.  He attempted what several women, now deceased, had assured him was his ‘sexiest’ face, and looked deep into her eyes.  “You know, I’ve been thinking about you.”

Fred’s head snapped up sharply, that ‘deer in the headlight’ look on her face.  She took a hesitant step forward, not even noticing that her foot was now halfway over the yellow line.  Her voice, when it came, was hesitant, uncertain.  “What do you mean?  You’ve been thinking about me?  Why?”

His voice went low and soft, almost a whisper.  “Don’t you ever think about me?  About what might have been?”

She stared at him, shocked and angry; she knew exactly what he was trying to do.  When she spoke again, her voice was hard and harsh.  “You’re just toying with me, Angelus.  You think you can trip me up with seduction scenes and pretty words?  I may be a little naïve still, but I’m not *that* stupid.”

“Well, it was worth a try, I suppose,” he told her, flashing her that cocky grin of his.

Fury and resolve radiated from her.  The intensity of it surprised him for a minute. 

Fred looked down at her feet, noticing for the first time how close she was to the bars of the cage.  As she looked back up at Angelus, she speared him with her eyes.  Slowly, deliberately, she took a step towards him.  Then another step, her eyes never leaving his.  Finally, she stood before him.  Only the strong bars of his cage kept him from pressing against her.

Angelus was more than a little surprised, but pleasantly so.  He slowly reached his right hand through the bars, waiting for her to move back or shy away from him.  Instead of doing any of that, she stood her ground; her eyes steady, as if she were challenging him to do his worst.

His hand reached out and touched her, just a gentle caress along her jaw.  She moved slightly, her head settling itself against his hand.  As he continued to touch her, she gave a soft sigh, her lips opening slightly.  Deciding to view this as an invitation, Angelus moved his hand back into her long silky hair and pulled her unresisting head towards him. Their lips met in a turbulent kiss. 

Fred poured everything she was feeling into the kiss.  Her frustration, her confusion, her darkness, her temptation, all of it flowed into him from that single contact.  Angelus understood and accepted; he deepened the kiss, his tongue pushing its way into her mouth and ravaging it.  “Give it all to me, Fred,” he murmured.  “I can make it all go away.”

She hesitated for barely a second, a brief moment in time, then she kissed him back with a fury that surprised them both.  Her hand snaked around his neck, trying to pull his head even closer to her own.  When she realized that the bars were impeding her progress, she reluctantly gave in and moved her hand up to bury itself in his dark hair.  Their tongues battled for control, pushing and tasting of each other in frenzied passion.  The cavernous room was silent except for the sound of her ragged breathing.

As much as he was enjoying himself, Angelus had other plans.  Sooner or later someone would come looking for the little brunette, and by the time that happened, he wanted to be far, far away.  He waited until he sensed that she had given up all control, then used the hand behind her head to bang her forehead sharply into the bars of the cage.  As he expected, she slumped down to the floor like a small, broken doll.

He pulled her unresisting body closer to him as his hands rapidly searched through her pockets for the key to his prison.  When he found it, he opened the door and dragged Fred into the cage that had been his home for the last several days.  He widened his senses, listening for the heartbeats of the others upstairs.  That was when he realized that they had left.  It was completely quiet.  Only the sound of the girl’s soft breath broke the silence of this modern-day dungeon.

The sweet brunette still lay there, innocent and soft, and ripe for the taking.  He hesitated for a moment.  Maybe he still had time for a little fun before he left.  After all, he thought, as he licked his lips in anticipation, it would be rude to look such a beautiful gift-horse in the mouth.  The minute he heard a sound upstairs he could be down in the tunnels, miles away from any retribution they might have in mind.

His mind made up, he dragged Fred inside the cage, quickly discarding her clothes with a derisive flick of his hand.  He tore the fabric of her brown cotton shirt, delighting in the feeling of destroying such an unflattering garment.  Then, after he had shredded the shirt into long strips, he relieved her of her pants as well.  Soon, she was dressed only in her underwear and bra.  He tsk’d to himself as he removed these last two items.  Why would such a pretty girl wear such ugly clothes, he wondered.  She would have been dressed in satin and lace if the choice had been his.

At last she was naked and still showed no signs of coming around.  With a little difficulty, he tied her to the bars of his cage, arms and legs apart, leaving her open and exposed to his lust.  He stood behind her, running his hands softly up the inside of her legs, over her firm young buttocks, his fingers moving at last between her legs to lightly tease her mound.  He thought he might have heard her sigh, but when he stopped and listened, he could hear nothing.

Angelus realized that his time was rather limited—the others could return at any minute, and although he enjoyed gazing at her slight, sun-kissed body, he had more pleasurable things in mind.  ‘Well, pleasurable for me, at least,’ he thought to himself.

The sound of his zipper was harsh in the silence.  As he pulled his pants down, his erection popped free, bobbing obscenely against his stomach.  His eyes scoured her body again, trying to decide which hole to violate first.  Her pussy was slightly wet, due mostly to the earlier teasing of his fingers.  Her tight ass, though, had charms of its own.  ‘Decisions, decisions,’ he thought gleefully.

Making up his mind, Angelus moved behind her again and pressed his erection to her warm pussy.  He moved the tip over the length of her channel, then paused briefly before sinking all the way in.  As he encased himself fully, he noticed that the young brunette was showing signs of life. 

He set up a languorous rhythm with his thrusts, pulling back until he was almost out of her and then thrusting back in until he could go no further.  As he did this, the vampire rested his chin on Fred’s shoulder and started to whisper seductively into her ear, the Irish brogue thickening his voice.

“Well lass, I did make ye a promise, din’t I?  And I am a man of me word, that I am.  Are ye enjoyin’ yerself now?” he asked, nipping gently at her earlobe between sentences. 

Fred looked back at him as best she could. She felt his cock deep within her, felt the bonds that held her in place, and knew that tonight she would die.  Strangely, that knowledge didn’t scare her the way it should have.  She knew that no matter what she did, what action she took, the outcome would be exactly the same.  And that knowledge made her feel free for the first time in a long time.  Free to enjoy the feelings she felt without worrying about guilt, fear, or consequences.

“Yes,” she told him, “Yes, more, please,” she sighed, thrusting back to meet his strokes as best she could.

Angelus was stunned.  He had expected fear, maybe some tears or pleading, but her acceptance of him, of what he was doing to her, was completely unexpected.  The words, the tone of her voice, her submission, they all incited his lust.  Soon he had increased his speed, sawing in and out of her at a frantic pace, working to bring himself relief. Of their own volition, his hands reached around to cup her ample breasts, flicking and pinching her nipples in a sharp rhythm.  Her response was a near-constant moan, with an occasional small cry, as a particularly brutal thrust would gouge her soft passage.

Finally Angelus felt the approach of his orgasm.  He pushed himself back in, further than he’d managed before, and felt himself hit bottom deep inside her.  Fred cried out in pain, salty tears of agony and pleasure trailing slowly from her beautiful brown eyes. His hands circled around her waist to hold her securely and kept himself pressed deep inside as his orgasm hit, shooting his seed into her.

Slowly he pulled himself out of her warm channel, savoring the feeling.  ‘Damn, that was good,’ he thought, giving the girl a quick kiss on the jaw.  As he noticed her closed eyes and slack body, he realized that she had passed out.  ‘Frail humans,’ he thought scornfully.  ‘Never could handle a good fucking.’

The dark vampire zipped his pants back up and stood back to admire his handiwork.  The brunette’s lovely body hung limply from her bonds, their combined secretions beginning to run down her legs and onto the floor.  Angelus moved between her legs, licking a long path the length her inner thigh, the taste of their orgasms lingering on his tongue.  When he reached the fleshy top of her thigh, he teased the flesh slightly before going into ‘game face’ and sinking his fangs deep into the skin. Her body bucked slightly against him, but that was the only response she gave. 

He drew several mouthfuls from her body, the earthy scent of her blood and their secretions dancing in his mouth.  It was heavenly.  As he drank, he wondered whether he should just go ahead and turn her.  She would make a beautiful childe, he thought.  Wild and wanton, with a passionate spirit that would match his own.

As he reluctantly moved back away from her, he thought about the coming battle ahead.  Things were complicated enough as it was, he decided with a slight sigh of regret.  Still, if he left her alive, she would always be there for when things were quieter.  When he could come back and play with her properly.

In his mind’s eye he imagined her again, naked and tied to his bed, her eyes wild, head thrashing in the throes of passion, begging him for mercy.  Or begging him for more.  Either way, it would be marvelous.  But tonight it was not meant to be.

The vampire stood and began to make his way to the door.  He got about halfway there before it hit.  Intense, deep pain.  And he knew what that pain meant.  Angelus had felt it before.  Suddenly he realized why it had been so quiet upstairs.  They had gone somewhere else to perform the soul restoration. 

“NO!” he roared, falling to his knees in agony, his demon enraged beyond belief.  He had been so close!  Now he would be stuck again inside his prison, only allowed small glimpses of life, when Angel needed that extra edge, the extra fierceness that only the demon could provide.

It was over.  The soul was again in control.  Angel looked in horror at what was before him.  Fred, his beautiful, bright, gentle friend, hung limply in front of him, arms and legs tied to the bars of the cage.  He could see the mess of blood and semen running down her legs and smell the scent of her arousal and her tears.

 Saddened and weary beyond belief, he fell to his knees and put his head in his hands. As he cried bitter tears, he asked aloud to the silent room, “My god, what have I done?”

The end