Title: Abandon

Title: Abandon
Rating: M
Plot: What if it were Darla whom sired our dearest William and brought him into the darnkess? And what if he were still to be infatuated with Drusilla and if Angelus were still to hate him but...Darla giving him the love of a Sire and trying to give bit more... (Everyting gradually increases throughout the chapters...violence, sexual content, adult language etc.)

Author's Note: This is a very old story. Originally written in the beginning of 2004 and published first to the web on (which has since been taken off the web) on July 21, 2005. While on slayerfanfic, it received a 5 star rating, a few hundred hits and only one review. Please remember, that I was only 13 when I wrote my first four chapters to this and I haven't changed it except for a few grammar things, so try not to make fun of it.

Thank you.
And please enjoy.

--
London, England
1880

Angelus roared angrily and pounded with an animal ferocity on the door to the bedroom – HIS bedroom. It had been three days. He had been locked outside of his own room for three full days with Darla stowed away inside with some strange man.

"Ye better be opening this door!" he growled. "I can understand the first night and the second barely passed but I swear to ya, if you don't open this door right now, I'll bust it down, Darla!"

"Oooh, don't get your knickers in a twist," she teased from behind the barrier. "We're coming out now…"

There was a quiet click as she unlocked the door and a sliding noise while it passed over the large wool rug that covered the wooden floor of the bedroom. Without another word, Darla came out from behind with an awkward young man following close behind.

He was short in comparison to himself, with cool blue eyes and sharp features. He was a fine-looking specimen of a boy, Angelus had to admit, but he seriously could not have been any better than he was – in any walk or aspect in unlife.

Darla took the boy's hand and then pulled him close so he wrapped his arms around her waist. She grinned and leaned back into him, pushing her buttocks against his crotch, making him wince a little. Reaching up she cupped the boy's face and traced his prominent features with her thumb, "such a beautiful boy… Don't you agree, Angelus?"

In reply, he merely grunted and rolled his eyes before demanding rather than asking, "who are you, lad?"

"William," he said with a thick cockney accent.

"Well then, William," Angelus sneered, "I am Angelus and the master of this house. You are to do as I say with no questions asked if you are to stay here without any trouble."

"Angelus!" Darla exclaimed in disapproval.

Suddenly, the young man – William, Angelus noted – had his attention snatched from him when another door opened, revealing an eerily beautiful woman stepping out. She had long, flowing raven hair that fell about her had like a sort of veil and milky-pale skin which framed her lithe body.

She batted her long, dark eyelashes at hi and eyed him carefully before giving him a coy smile. "Hello there," she said almost painfully sweet to the newcomer's ears. "I'm Drusilla."

Extending her delicate hand out to him, he took it and as he had seen done so many times he saw others practice in the high society balls he stumbled around in when invited, he slowly bent over it while looking up at her, he gave a discrete wink. She grinned happily and declared to her grandsire, "what a gentleman he is! Does he get to stay?"

Darla's, "yes" and Angelus', "no" collided in the air.

Drusilla frowned unhappily as a little whimpering noise escaped her throat and she began to withdraw from them. Before either Angelus or Darla or even William himself knew what he was doing, he was already sitting on the small sofa with his arm wrapped around Drusilla's shoulder, comforting her.

Angelus glared with his mouth twisting into a menacing grimace. That boy had no right to cough his childe in any manner. "Get away from her," he barked at him but when he didn't see him moving, he added sternly, "now."

William took a side-glance over towards Darla who seemed as angry as Angelus was at the moment. She looked righteously peeved so he assumed that Angelus had been right in what he said earlier; the rules were to be made up and enforced by him, though it seemed his sire enjoyed bending them, there was no breaking.

Without another warning or second to spare, Angelus stormed over to the boy, snatched him up, off the couch and held him above the ground by the lapels with his feet dangling helplessly below him. "Did yer hear me, boy," he snapped. "I said leave the girl alone. She is not yours, she is my childe and she is not yours to touch. Here's rule number one, boy-o, and listen good: do not touch anything of mine."

A good shake was given to William as he remained up in the air and Angelus asked if he understood what he had said. William nodded and whispered hoarsely, "Yes."

"Good," Angelus said and then set him rough on his feet.

He then walked over to Drusilla and gently stroked her soft hair but she wouldn't look at him – she had withdrawn again – so he placed a finger under her chin and tenderly lifted it up so she did.

"I'm sorry fer yellin' darlin'," he told her softly and gave her a kiss.

A low chuckle rumbled in Drusilla's throat with the excitement of such attention from her sire and she decided to take advantage of the moment. She prodded her tongue into his mouth and explored the almost exotic taste of him right before his went and met hers.

Their tongues went into a lazy duel for what seemed like an eternity as Angelus slowly won Drusilla back. Little did they know, or rather seem to care, Darla and young William were still watching.

Darla sighed heavily and shook her head but understood the strange and deranged love that they shared for each other while William merely stared on, almost angered by the site.

Finally, Angelus broke the kiss, making Drusilla pout but he then gave her a little wink and whispered to her, "tonight."

The pout vanished and a smile crept up to embrace her features. She crawled onto his lap like a small child and laid her head on his shoulder as his arms wrapped around her, pulling her close to him.

Reaching over onto the side-table, Angelus took a small pansy out of the vase and handed it to her. It was the one she had picked out from the garden a few days before when they had been alone. She smiled and took it from him, twirling it between her fingers.

"Angelus," Darla finally declared, "I'm hungry and I think we should head out to the theatre and try to find something to eat."

"What do you think, Drusilla?" he asked and then peered over at William who was still glaring over at them.

"Yes," she said, "we should show our dear boy how well we work!"

"Well then, Willy," Angelus said, "get ready – we're going out."