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The Caretaker

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Summary: Angelus and his first girl-toy can't stand Drusilla anymore, so Angelus goes shopping for a caretaker...

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Harry Potter > Angel-Centered(Recent Donor)CaptainBoulangerFR181710011,6786 Apr 046 Apr 04Yes
The Caretaker

Disclaimer: Angelus/Angel, Drusilla, and William/Spike are not mine; they belong to the Joss-verse. The first-person narrator OC, known here as M.G., is mine. For entertainment purposes only.

(A/N: It's my first shot at a 20-minute fic. A little scene I had running around in my head, about William/Spike being turned. But mainly it's about Angelus...

Also, it's got a first-person OC point of view. I've deliberately left vague who it is, but it's an OC I've used before. Suffice it to say that here, she's Angelus' girl, after Darla and before Drusilla.)


"Liam, she's your little creation. You do something about it. I'm sick and tired of her insane babble already." I said, unfolding my six-week-old 'Atlantic Monthly', checking up on the war back home.

"Go stake yourself, M.G." Angelus snapped; he's been trying to break me of calling him Liam ever since he turned me, by coming up with all sorts of silly nicknames. Where he came up with M.G., I'll never know, but there it is, his nickname of the month. Of course, I'd stop calling him Liam if he stopped messing with me, but no...

"The stars are falling on the fields of the future!" Drusilla whined. I winced at her high-pitched voice, as well as the utter incoherence that nearly always laced her voice.


"All right, M.G. What do you think I should do?"

I thought for a moment, reading over the President's speech, a powerful little piece. 'Four score and seven years ago...' Yeah, yeah, I was there. Tell me something I don't know, Mr. Lincoln... "Perhaps we can convince someone to give their life to secure our freedom?"

Angelus shook his head. "Sounds familiar, coming from you. And who would do that, M.G.?"

"How about that handsome young poet you took me to see last Saturday? You know, the one who's bloody awful... Oh, listen, I'm starting to sound like a blasted *British* lady."

"Right, then." Angelus said, rising from the blood-stained divan. "perhaps he'll have more of a taste for bloodshed than you do, M.G." He ran his hand through Drusilla's long, black, wavy hair, letting it tangle just at the ends. "Dru, come on, let's go find you a playmate."

As Angelus slammed the door of our hideout behind him, I whispered, "More like caretaker."


"That was... puffy clouds."

Angelus raised an eyebrow at Drusilla's nearly incoherent sentence as I slipped into the room. I'd meant to stay behind - I've never been much for shedding human blood, despite that little case of vampirism - and saw him beckon the awful poet over. "William, my boy, this is Lady Drusilla, and she quite enyjoyed your reading. Might you have a few moments to speak with us?"

As the room was quickly clearing - the various guests having stayed the polite amount of time - it was clear that he did. "I suppose I do, at that." William said, pulling a pocketwatch from his coat. "I believe I can spare ten minutes or so."

"Good. If we might talk outside?" Angelus grinned. I've seen that grin twice before.

Once was that October night in Virginia. And the other, the night Drusilla took holy orders - he just delights in desecrating holy days. I wonder if tonight is some Papish saint's feast...


"This is just... strange." William said, sitting up. He stared directly at Angelus, who was busily brushing out Drusilla's hair while she claimed to be counting grains of sand. Never mind that we were in a stone cellar that I'd already swept clean more than once. "I can feel... so much, and yet, so little."

I smirked. Another blasted Brit in our little gang. "You get used to it."

William turned, looking at me. "And what do I call you, milady?"

"That sounds about right." I snapped. I'd lost all my patience with the British lad for the day, and retreated to the dark corner I'd claimed as my own, that first night here in London.

Angelus shook his head. "Don't mind her. She's a bit..."


"No, just a bit hostile around certain types. But she's the best vampire to have around when you need to know about Slayers, so I just grin and bear it. Drusilla, on the other hand..." Angelus took the hairbrush, and tossed it to William. "She's all yours."

"So what am I? A bloody caretaker?"

"Not just..."


The End

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