TITLE: Songs of the present
AUTHOR: Simone of the Zordiak
PART: 1/?
EMAIL: [email protected]
DISCLAIMER: Joss owns them, I play with them.
I give them back when I'm finished
(if they still want to go back... but he
can get back the Gentlemen... even if
they have good manners, they
are still giving me the creeps)
Feli, her friends and Andraious are mine
and I won't give them away (unless you ask nicely)
DISTRIBUTION: Feel free ... just tell me, I'd like to know where
it goes to.
RATING: NC-17
SPOILERS: This a bonafide AU and the sequel to my story
"Ghosts of the Past". Much of it won't make sense if you
didn't read that story first.
Attention: I play with the timelines of BtVS and Angel a lot,
so while the Angel timeline is followed up to 'Eternity' before
the "Ghosts"-story sets in, the BtVS Episode 'Hush' is going
to happen (in my twisted for Fanfic- use way) in this story.
And while Spike was able to escape the Initiative, he didn't
managed it as fast as in the eps, so there is some recent
trauma mentioned.
PAIRING: A/X
AUTHORS NOTES: English is not my native language.
FEEDBACK: Is there a writer who doesn't want feedback ???
Constructive critic always welcomed
Flamers beware... I'm a fast learner and I have a good memory
*** L.A. ***
Xander looked down, way... way down. He gulped and swayed. The pavement
was sooooo far away. He turned to the patiently waiting figure next to
him. "Do we have to do this, Angel?" Xander couldn't help it, his
voice sounded really whiny. Angel looked down the building, like
Xander had done before, then he nodded. "We both need to learn how to
fly, Xan. And Andraious," he nodded to the silently waiting hawkdemon
on the other side of the roof, "said that the easiest way to learn it
is to start with gliding first, using the aircurrents around high
buildings." "I know," Xander nodded unhappily, "but does it have to
be this high? Can't we use a lower building for starters? You know,
all I can think about right now is that I'll become a really flat
pavement pancake when I don't get the hang of this gliding thing in
time."
***
Angel couldn't help but smile, as he listened to Xander's nervous
chatter. He'd been speaking for a month now. His first words, spoken in
the afterglow had taken him by surprise. Afterwards Xander had to
partily relearn how to speak, after all he hadn't been able to talk
for more than two years. But now his speaking abilities were on par
with those of the old Xander. It had been fascinating to watch him,
witnessing all the changes that he had gone through and how they had
affected him. Xander was more mature than he had believed possible of
the boy, he had met almost five years ago. Since he had merged with his
vampire-demon, he was more joyous than his mute incarnation. One thing
Angel was very grateful for, but he was also more insecure and shy about
his relationship with Angel than before.
True, they were mated and Xander did know what it meant, but he had to cope
with Alexander's memories of being hated because of his vampire-nature,
and Xander's less than happy memories of his mortal life. So Angel
knew that his behavior wasn't about to change very soon. He had to be
the strong one, the reassuring one in their relationship. Maybe he would
have to tell him that he loved him every day for the next few centuries,
but it was worth it.
***
Xander slowly inched away from the edge of the roof. True, he had
said yes, when Angel told him that he had found someone, who would
teach them how to fly, but this was such a long way down! Andraious,
the Greek hawkdemon, walked to him. "You are afraid," he stated.
"Well," Xander sighed, "it is just, I know it will really hurt when
I don't get the hang of it in time." He wanted to tell him more, tell
him about his doubts about really being able to fly... what if the
wings weren't big enough, strong enough or even meant for flying?
Andraious stopped him. "I want you to spread your wings, as wide as
you can." Well, he could do this. With little concentration he
changed into his other form, feeling his wings grow through the long,
vertical slits in his shirt and spread them as wide as he could.
***
He loved to watch Xander change into his true form. It looked so good
on him. Angel's eyes wandered over Xander's body. His true form was a
bit different than his own, but Xander was not only Elutary, but also
Heaven's voice, so there were meant to be differences.
Xander's horns were golden, harmonizing beautifully with his brunette
hair. His wings, now stretched to their maximum, were never the same
color. Sometimes they were of a bluish silver, sometimes they were
glowing like a fiery opal and sometimes, like now, they were of a pure
golden color, like those of the angels in the big cathedrals.
Beautiful.
"Close your eyes," he heard Andraious instruct his childe and watched
as Xander hid his expressive eyes behind incredibly long lashes. "Can
you feel the wind? Can you feel the air weave through your feathers?"
The voice of the hawkdemon was hypnotic and Angel almost followed him
as well, only the desire to watch Xander held him back. "Feel the
movement around you, the different currents, they will carry you. Do
you feel it?" "Yess," Xander breathed and Angel suddenly had to force
down his arousal. It looked like his mate was held in the arms of an
invisible lover, of someone not him. Jealousy flared up in him, but
Xander wasn't held by a lover, the caresses that made him moan were
made by the air around him. He couldn't get jealous because of mere
air, could he? Xander moaned again and Angel realized that, yes, he
could.
Andraious stepped torwards the ledge of the roof, coaxing Xander
with him. Then suddenly he was no longer on the roof, using his wings,
flying in front of him. "Come," he whispered, "it will carry you too."
And Xander took the final step.
For a moment it looked like he would fall, like he had feared he
would, but then he started to soar. Gliding first and then, when he
got braver, he flapped his wings, flying higher until he landed on
the roof again.
"I can fly!" He laughed and his face lit up with joy, making Angel
shiver with happiness. Xander was happy and his happiness was more
beautiful than any sunrise ever could be. And he could fly. He could
really fly. "Why are you crying?" He was crying? Oh, yes, there was a
tear or two running down his cheeks. "Because I'm so happy," he
whispered in reply and it was true. The tears were happy tears, shed
because he had been totally overwhelmed by his feelings. Complete
happiness... and love.
***
Wesley rubbed his eyes. Ever since Angel's transformation and the
appearance of Heaven's voice, his mate and childe, he had researched
everything he could find about the Elutarym, Ur, the Chajalahat
Uoluuht and the prophecies about Lillith's return and the dawn of a
new city of a thousand tribes, a new Ur. But so far he hadn't been able
to make sense out of most parts of the cryptic text.
'Like Ureaus they shed their old skin
and like Benu they return from the darkness
to return the light to its rightful place
father son mate
The son of Bastet shall follow their steps
Sachmet's daughter protect them during the rise of the evil ones
Toth's child shall bring them the sacred words
and Maat's daughter will guide them through the storms
Born three times
lost and found again
they will be tested
before the battle can being
When the voiceless speaks
when the speakers are voiceless
then the ka of the son must be retrieved
from the realm of Osiris
Seth's priest shall find back to the path of Maat
the wings of Benu will cut the air
the battle must be won
shall the mother return
and the lost children find a new home'
He massaged his temples. Sometimes he wished that prophecies weren't
so damned cryptic. Sometimes he wished that his old-Egyptian was in a
better shape than the fragments he remembered.
Maybe he should call Giles, but the last time he had phoned the other
ex-watcher, Giles had been more than rude and abrupt to him. True,
the group in Sunnydale might have fought against another of those
evil forces, but the lack of information nearly had killed them in an
encounter with Xyrg-demons. He, Angel and Cordelia hadn't been in
contact with any of the Sunnydale group since that incident. There
had been no need and they had decided that independence from their old
lives was better than being let down in a crucial moment again.
That had been several months ago, before the drug-incident, before
Xander, before all the changes that had happened to them. He reached
for the phone, stopped. Perhaps it was time to tell them all that had
happened. No, he knew *that* it was time. But that wasn't only his
decision. Angel and Xander needed to be OK with it, too.
So he had to wait until they came back. He sighed wistfully. They
would start to learn how to fly tonight. Flying. He wished he could
fly, too. It was an old childhood-dream of his. To be able to fly and
touch the clouds with his fingertips.
During all his time as a watcher he had researched the possibility of
flying by means of magic. He had found several levitation
spells, but they were impractical and almost completely useless,
because the caster needed iron concentration while levitating and
wouldn't be able to enjoy the flight itself. Then he had concentrated
on wings, but even when he was able to create wings with glamour
spells, those wings weren't able to carry him.
Wesley sighed. He wasn't really jealous at Angel and Xander, no... not
really. He just wished... but those wishes were useless. Frustrated
he turned back to the books and scrolls and tried to concentrate.
***
Giles glanced at his silent house-guest and sighed. Ever since Buffy
had found Spike, starved and delirious with hunger, yet unable to
attack anything alive, he had been burdened with the now quiet and
broken vampire. Buffy had been unable to stake him, instead she had
carried the living skeleton to him. He still couldn't banish the
image of eyes, so sunken in their sockets that they were only barely
visible, of fingers that only consisted of a thin layer of skin over
brittle bones, a chest made out of ribs, where he had been able to see
the bones of Spike's spine while looking at his chest.
The vampire had been unable to move, his muscles consumed by his own
body in a last desperate attempt to nourish himself. When he had
awakened out of his hunger-coma, he had asked, begged, to be staked.
And like Buffy, Giles had been unable to do it. Because Spike had
information about the soldiers. He had rambled about them, their base
and the inhuman tests he had to endure while captured by them, when he
had been delirious.
Now he was their only source about the Initiative and what he had told
them was really horrible. Even demons didn't deserve that kind of
treatment. The Initiative had to be found and dealt with before they
could cause more damage to the fragile balance of the Hellmouth.
Again his eyes wandered to the silent figure that rested in the chair
next to the window. Even if Spike had regained some weight, he was
still far from his normal self and Giles seriously doubted that
he would ever return to normal.
It wasn't right. It was against the normal order of things. After they
had dealt with the threat of the Initiative, he would search for a way
to undo the damage that had been done by implanting the chip into
Spike's head. It was not the natural way and Giles actually felt
sympathy for the vampire, something he had never actually believed
possible.
He glanced at the clock. It was time again. He walked into the kitchen
to heat up a fresh mug of blood. Spike wasn't showing any signs of
hunger, but since his recent starvation, he seemed not to notice the
demands of his body anymore. Left to himself he would simply forget to
feed and slip into the circle of starvation once more. They had learned
this very quickly and so they force-fed him every two hours until, so
they hoped, the old Spike-persona would come back.
Giles set the steaming mug in front of the vampire and waited.
***
Spike looked up, sighed. He knew the watcher wouldn't leave him alone
until he had emptied the mug in front of him. He wanted, needed the
silence and so, even if the blood didn't called to him anymore, he
drank down the mug, handed it back to the watcher and slipped back
into the quiet space, where nobody could harm him anymore.
***
He sighed as he watched the vampire mentally slip away again. He was
at his wits end. Tomorrow, he decided, tomorrow he would call Angel.
He might know a way to bring back the old Spike.
Armed with his decision he went to sleep, not knowing that he never
would be able to call Angel the next morning, since the Gentlemen
decided to use this night to steal the voices of every person in
Sunnydale.
tbc
AUTHOR: Simone of the Zordiak
PART: 1/?
EMAIL: [email protected]
DISCLAIMER: Joss owns them, I play with them.
I give them back when I'm finished
(if they still want to go back... but he
can get back the Gentlemen... even if
they have good manners, they
are still giving me the creeps)
Feli, her friends and Andraious are mine
and I won't give them away (unless you ask nicely)
DISTRIBUTION: Feel free ... just tell me, I'd like to know where
it goes to.
RATING: NC-17
SPOILERS: This a bonafide AU and the sequel to my story
"Ghosts of the Past". Much of it won't make sense if you
didn't read that story first.
Attention: I play with the timelines of BtVS and Angel a lot,
so while the Angel timeline is followed up to 'Eternity' before
the "Ghosts"-story sets in, the BtVS Episode 'Hush' is going
to happen (in my twisted for Fanfic- use way) in this story.
And while Spike was able to escape the Initiative, he didn't
managed it as fast as in the eps, so there is some recent
trauma mentioned.
PAIRING: A/X
AUTHORS NOTES: English is not my native language.
FEEDBACK: Is there a writer who doesn't want feedback ???
Constructive critic always welcomed
Flamers beware... I'm a fast learner and I have a good memory
*** L.A. ***
Xander looked down, way... way down. He gulped and swayed. The pavement
was sooooo far away. He turned to the patiently waiting figure next to
him. "Do we have to do this, Angel?" Xander couldn't help it, his
voice sounded really whiny. Angel looked down the building, like
Xander had done before, then he nodded. "We both need to learn how to
fly, Xan. And Andraious," he nodded to the silently waiting hawkdemon
on the other side of the roof, "said that the easiest way to learn it
is to start with gliding first, using the aircurrents around high
buildings." "I know," Xander nodded unhappily, "but does it have to
be this high? Can't we use a lower building for starters? You know,
all I can think about right now is that I'll become a really flat
pavement pancake when I don't get the hang of this gliding thing in
time."
***
Angel couldn't help but smile, as he listened to Xander's nervous
chatter. He'd been speaking for a month now. His first words, spoken in
the afterglow had taken him by surprise. Afterwards Xander had to
partily relearn how to speak, after all he hadn't been able to talk
for more than two years. But now his speaking abilities were on par
with those of the old Xander. It had been fascinating to watch him,
witnessing all the changes that he had gone through and how they had
affected him. Xander was more mature than he had believed possible of
the boy, he had met almost five years ago. Since he had merged with his
vampire-demon, he was more joyous than his mute incarnation. One thing
Angel was very grateful for, but he was also more insecure and shy about
his relationship with Angel than before.
True, they were mated and Xander did know what it meant, but he had to cope
with Alexander's memories of being hated because of his vampire-nature,
and Xander's less than happy memories of his mortal life. So Angel
knew that his behavior wasn't about to change very soon. He had to be
the strong one, the reassuring one in their relationship. Maybe he would
have to tell him that he loved him every day for the next few centuries,
but it was worth it.
***
Xander slowly inched away from the edge of the roof. True, he had
said yes, when Angel told him that he had found someone, who would
teach them how to fly, but this was such a long way down! Andraious,
the Greek hawkdemon, walked to him. "You are afraid," he stated.
"Well," Xander sighed, "it is just, I know it will really hurt when
I don't get the hang of it in time." He wanted to tell him more, tell
him about his doubts about really being able to fly... what if the
wings weren't big enough, strong enough or even meant for flying?
Andraious stopped him. "I want you to spread your wings, as wide as
you can." Well, he could do this. With little concentration he
changed into his other form, feeling his wings grow through the long,
vertical slits in his shirt and spread them as wide as he could.
***
He loved to watch Xander change into his true form. It looked so good
on him. Angel's eyes wandered over Xander's body. His true form was a
bit different than his own, but Xander was not only Elutary, but also
Heaven's voice, so there were meant to be differences.
Xander's horns were golden, harmonizing beautifully with his brunette
hair. His wings, now stretched to their maximum, were never the same
color. Sometimes they were of a bluish silver, sometimes they were
glowing like a fiery opal and sometimes, like now, they were of a pure
golden color, like those of the angels in the big cathedrals.
Beautiful.
"Close your eyes," he heard Andraious instruct his childe and watched
as Xander hid his expressive eyes behind incredibly long lashes. "Can
you feel the wind? Can you feel the air weave through your feathers?"
The voice of the hawkdemon was hypnotic and Angel almost followed him
as well, only the desire to watch Xander held him back. "Feel the
movement around you, the different currents, they will carry you. Do
you feel it?" "Yess," Xander breathed and Angel suddenly had to force
down his arousal. It looked like his mate was held in the arms of an
invisible lover, of someone not him. Jealousy flared up in him, but
Xander wasn't held by a lover, the caresses that made him moan were
made by the air around him. He couldn't get jealous because of mere
air, could he? Xander moaned again and Angel realized that, yes, he
could.
Andraious stepped torwards the ledge of the roof, coaxing Xander
with him. Then suddenly he was no longer on the roof, using his wings,
flying in front of him. "Come," he whispered, "it will carry you too."
And Xander took the final step.
For a moment it looked like he would fall, like he had feared he
would, but then he started to soar. Gliding first and then, when he
got braver, he flapped his wings, flying higher until he landed on
the roof again.
"I can fly!" He laughed and his face lit up with joy, making Angel
shiver with happiness. Xander was happy and his happiness was more
beautiful than any sunrise ever could be. And he could fly. He could
really fly. "Why are you crying?" He was crying? Oh, yes, there was a
tear or two running down his cheeks. "Because I'm so happy," he
whispered in reply and it was true. The tears were happy tears, shed
because he had been totally overwhelmed by his feelings. Complete
happiness... and love.
***
Wesley rubbed his eyes. Ever since Angel's transformation and the
appearance of Heaven's voice, his mate and childe, he had researched
everything he could find about the Elutarym, Ur, the Chajalahat
Uoluuht and the prophecies about Lillith's return and the dawn of a
new city of a thousand tribes, a new Ur. But so far he hadn't been able
to make sense out of most parts of the cryptic text.
'Like Ureaus they shed their old skin
and like Benu they return from the darkness
to return the light to its rightful place
father son mate
The son of Bastet shall follow their steps
Sachmet's daughter protect them during the rise of the evil ones
Toth's child shall bring them the sacred words
and Maat's daughter will guide them through the storms
Born three times
lost and found again
they will be tested
before the battle can being
When the voiceless speaks
when the speakers are voiceless
then the ka of the son must be retrieved
from the realm of Osiris
Seth's priest shall find back to the path of Maat
the wings of Benu will cut the air
the battle must be won
shall the mother return
and the lost children find a new home'
He massaged his temples. Sometimes he wished that prophecies weren't
so damned cryptic. Sometimes he wished that his old-Egyptian was in a
better shape than the fragments he remembered.
Maybe he should call Giles, but the last time he had phoned the other
ex-watcher, Giles had been more than rude and abrupt to him. True,
the group in Sunnydale might have fought against another of those
evil forces, but the lack of information nearly had killed them in an
encounter with Xyrg-demons. He, Angel and Cordelia hadn't been in
contact with any of the Sunnydale group since that incident. There
had been no need and they had decided that independence from their old
lives was better than being let down in a crucial moment again.
That had been several months ago, before the drug-incident, before
Xander, before all the changes that had happened to them. He reached
for the phone, stopped. Perhaps it was time to tell them all that had
happened. No, he knew *that* it was time. But that wasn't only his
decision. Angel and Xander needed to be OK with it, too.
So he had to wait until they came back. He sighed wistfully. They
would start to learn how to fly tonight. Flying. He wished he could
fly, too. It was an old childhood-dream of his. To be able to fly and
touch the clouds with his fingertips.
During all his time as a watcher he had researched the possibility of
flying by means of magic. He had found several levitation
spells, but they were impractical and almost completely useless,
because the caster needed iron concentration while levitating and
wouldn't be able to enjoy the flight itself. Then he had concentrated
on wings, but even when he was able to create wings with glamour
spells, those wings weren't able to carry him.
Wesley sighed. He wasn't really jealous at Angel and Xander, no... not
really. He just wished... but those wishes were useless. Frustrated
he turned back to the books and scrolls and tried to concentrate.
***
Giles glanced at his silent house-guest and sighed. Ever since Buffy
had found Spike, starved and delirious with hunger, yet unable to
attack anything alive, he had been burdened with the now quiet and
broken vampire. Buffy had been unable to stake him, instead she had
carried the living skeleton to him. He still couldn't banish the
image of eyes, so sunken in their sockets that they were only barely
visible, of fingers that only consisted of a thin layer of skin over
brittle bones, a chest made out of ribs, where he had been able to see
the bones of Spike's spine while looking at his chest.
The vampire had been unable to move, his muscles consumed by his own
body in a last desperate attempt to nourish himself. When he had
awakened out of his hunger-coma, he had asked, begged, to be staked.
And like Buffy, Giles had been unable to do it. Because Spike had
information about the soldiers. He had rambled about them, their base
and the inhuman tests he had to endure while captured by them, when he
had been delirious.
Now he was their only source about the Initiative and what he had told
them was really horrible. Even demons didn't deserve that kind of
treatment. The Initiative had to be found and dealt with before they
could cause more damage to the fragile balance of the Hellmouth.
Again his eyes wandered to the silent figure that rested in the chair
next to the window. Even if Spike had regained some weight, he was
still far from his normal self and Giles seriously doubted that
he would ever return to normal.
It wasn't right. It was against the normal order of things. After they
had dealt with the threat of the Initiative, he would search for a way
to undo the damage that had been done by implanting the chip into
Spike's head. It was not the natural way and Giles actually felt
sympathy for the vampire, something he had never actually believed
possible.
He glanced at the clock. It was time again. He walked into the kitchen
to heat up a fresh mug of blood. Spike wasn't showing any signs of
hunger, but since his recent starvation, he seemed not to notice the
demands of his body anymore. Left to himself he would simply forget to
feed and slip into the circle of starvation once more. They had learned
this very quickly and so they force-fed him every two hours until, so
they hoped, the old Spike-persona would come back.
Giles set the steaming mug in front of the vampire and waited.
***
Spike looked up, sighed. He knew the watcher wouldn't leave him alone
until he had emptied the mug in front of him. He wanted, needed the
silence and so, even if the blood didn't called to him anymore, he
drank down the mug, handed it back to the watcher and slipped back
into the quiet space, where nobody could harm him anymore.
***
He sighed as he watched the vampire mentally slip away again. He was
at his wits end. Tomorrow, he decided, tomorrow he would call Angel.
He might know a way to bring back the old Spike.
Armed with his decision he went to sleep, not knowing that he never
would be able to call Angel the next morning, since the Gentlemen
decided to use this night to steal the voices of every person in
Sunnydale.
tbc