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My Immortal. Chapter 1.
Well here it finally is - Jack and the Fanged Four. Of course by now I have been over it so often that I am thoroughly sick of it and dearly, dearly wish I was a better writer - but I don’t have time or energy to re-do it from scratch, so this is what you get. (Although it all fitted together beautifully - it was like Joss had Jack in mind when he wrote TGiQ. And Darla *rules*!) ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kathyh - as usual I don’t know what I’d have done without you! (How do people manage without beta readers? ‘Tis a mystery.)
And since I’m here: Happy Birthday tothedeadlyhook and ladypeyton. Hope you both have wonderful days! (If you want this as birthday fic btw, it’s all yours. On the other hand you’re probably as starved for reading time as I...)
Setting & summary: 1894 - TGiQ flashbacks. (Fleshed out LOTS! *g* Also so meta-heavy that I’m worried it’ll sink.)
Spoilers: Same as the last part (S1-3 of DW), although it'll help if you know who ‘Captain John’ is.
Rating: PG-13. (If you want Dru/Jack/Darla pr0n, write your own! Not doing threesomes again. Ever.)
Word count: 6400 words approx.
Feedback: I can’t tell you how much I’d appreciate it, no matter how short! Seriously.
Prologue HERE. (If you need to catch up and want to find out how I made Jack 'The Immortal' of AtS fame.)
Finally, I thought people might like to be reminded of what Jack looked like at this time, so I found some pictures. Close up here, full length here (mmmm, coat...) and one where he's sitting, here (just because I liked it). :)
Chapter 1
Darla: Oh, come on. Have you seen him? With the eyes and the chest and the... (sighs blissfully) immortality.
William: We're immortal.
Darla: Not like him. I mean, he's not some common vampire. He's—I don't know what he is. A giant. A titan straddling good and evil, serving no master but his own considerable desires.
[...]
William: Drusilla, you—you let him touch you?
Drusilla: He felt like sunshine.
Vienna, 1894
Europe was quite a different place when one had money, Jack had soon realised. Last time he’d been in Vienna he’d mostly spent his time walking and admiring, but this time he found himself at the opera with a beautiful girl on his arm - which was far more like it.
Soon however he discovered the downside - opera, German opera in particular, was not his thing at all.
His only previous experience with the art form had been a fabulous Nu-Delta3-Phonic performance of ‘The Ring Cycle’ on Venus 5 in the 37th century, and whilst he hadn’t expected anything like naked flying valkyries - given the time period and the fact that they were watching a different opera - the sheer mind-numbing dullness of the show caused his eyes to wander over the audience, idly wondering if he could talk the girl into a threesome, until they stopped at the box opposite, containing two couples... and then he froze.
He didn’t notice a single thing that took place on stage for the rest of the performance, as his eyes were glued to a man he’d thought he’d lost forever - talking, laughing and clearly enjoying himself with his new companions.
It couldn’t be...
Jack tried his best to catch his eyes, but there was zero reaction - which wasn’t surprising since the other was probably pulling off some scam or other. The women though sent him a few appreciative smiles, much to his date’s consternation. (That ruled out threesomes then. Damn. On the plus-side though, it made the decision to ditch her a lot easier.)
When the show was finally over he rushed after them, desperate not to lose what might be his only chance to get off the planet - or at least out of this time - for goodness knew how many years. The men went off together and Jack saw them pick up a couple of pretty girls, but as he followed them down a dark, narrow sidestreet he received the evening’s second shock.
When he turned into the alley, he - as he had expected - saw two embracing couples... but as his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he with growing horror realised that something was very, very wrong. His head told him in no uncertain terms what he was witnessing, but still he couldn’t make himself believe it.
Without thinking he called out “Stop!” and the ‘men’ both looked up, yellow feline eyes studying him coldly.
Then their faces melted back to their human features as the tall, dark haired one looked him over disdainfully.
“And who are you to tell Angelus what to do?”
Jack clenched his jaw, looking from one to the other. This changed everything, and he wasn’t sure how to proceed - except that now he knew what name to use.
“I’m The Immortal.”
Angelus was clearly not impressed.
“Are you now? Come to beg some leftovers?”
Rudely he threw the half-conscious girl at him, and Jack almost stumbled trying to catch her, then found himself desperately trying to stop the bleeding from her neck.
“Please - do I look like a vampire?” he answered angrily, looking at Angelus with ill-concealed disgust.
“Nah,” Angelus leered, “you look like a self-important moron who’s bitten off more than he can chew.”
“Well look who’s talking,” Jack shot back, increasingly irritated. Sure vampires were evil - but this guy was clearly also a major jerk. Inwardly cursing he turned to the other one. It was too dark to discern what look was in his eyes, but Jack had to try - for old times sake if nothing else. He had plenty of experience of reasoning with this particular man and made sure to use the voice that was pleasant, but unmistakably authoritative:
“Just - let. the girl. go. Then we’ll talk, OK?”
The nasty grin should have warned him, but he was still shocked when the vampire casually snapped the girl's neck.
“Oops?”
Angelus beamed. “Ah! That was a good 'un William. Well done!”
They shot each other a look and laughed - so intimate and confidential Jack felt his hands curl into fists. Then Angelus slung his arm around William’s shoulders and they walked off, never looking back.
Jack was left standing in the dark alley clutching a dying girl, hands covered in blood and his mind thoroughly shaken.
His old partner had become a vampire. Unless of course it was just someone who happened to look like him - which was obviously a distinct possibility - but after his own 'Immortal' gig he was wary of jumping to conclusions.
He tried telling himself that he should leave ‘William’ alone - and yet after a few weeks he caught up with them in Frankfurt.
To his dismay he discovered that Angelus was far more dangerous than he’d thought, as well as being a thoroughly nasty piece of work in every way. Jack had seen a lot in his life, but he’d never come across someone who got off on destroying innocence as much as this creature. Nuns were a particular favourite, and - despite not really wanting to antagonise the vampires any more than necessary - Jack made sure to arrange safe passage for a whole convent on pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela.
But as soon as that crisis was over, Angelus managed to get hold of some Rathrun eggs, which presented an entirely different sort of danger. So Jack stole them and then hatched them himself - the only way to make sure they didn’t end up in the wrong hands.
These actions instantly earned him death threats, fury and sworn enmity - trying to be a good guy was really terribly inconvenient for his own personal aims.
After that he did his best to stay out of the vampires’ way, but somehow their paths kept colliding through Europe, and he felt compelled to step in time and again, as ever trying to control 'William' - and now by extension Angelus - the same way he always had. Control of course being more like damage-limitation. And through it all he found himself going near-insane not knowing. Was it him, or wasn't it? Every time he tried to just talk, they tried to kill him.
His old partner had always been a sociopath, and becoming a vampire clearly suited him perfectly - he probably thought that messing with Jack was the best game ever invented. At least the women didn’t appear interested in their deadly tag, and - grateful for small mercies - Jack wished the boys were as sensible. He didn’t want to fight them, he just - he didn’t even know what he wanted anymore. There were plenty of reasons why they’d split up...
Finally he decided to just return to Rome - throw a grand ball the way he'd been planning and actually try to enjoy himself. And definitely not invite any vampires.
Rome, later same year.
“Antonio! Good morning! Tell me - do we have mail? Any last acceptances for my big party?”
It really was a beautiful morning, and Jack felt like life was smiling on him again as he sat in the ornately carved chair behind his ancient desk. The early morning sun was falling through the windows and onto the rich carpet of the study, picking out the corner of his large portrait and making it look as though it was studded with a diamond. Which it could be, if he wanted. Money was nice. And tomorrow night it was finally time for his special ball with hundreds of guests...
Surely he’d find someone - or someones - to bring back to his very large and comfortable bed. He’d been reading up on the various demon species, and there were some that looked very flexible. Oh he’d enjoy this alias alright - starting with this party. What was the point of money if not to spend it?
Yes, it was a bandaid on a giant wound, but it was better than nothing... and hopefully it’d take his mind off things.
Antonio however didn’t seem to share his mood, waving his hands in great agitation before handing over an envelope.
“It is very bad, I’m afraid. Terrible news! We will be a few guests short, Immortal.”
Jack took the letter from him, frowning.
“What! Why?”
Without waiting for an answer he swiftly scanned the few lines, and Jack could feel a dent forming in his happy mood.
“Do we know who did this?”
Antonio hesitated for a moment, worry trailing over his features. In his face Jack could still see the echo of the boy who had once greeted him so brightly, and for just a second he felt immobilised with terror at what he was. His own face had remained so unchanged that it had been a shock to return to Rome to find everyone aged. Antonio was nearing middle age, married and with teenaged children, and Jack... Jack was The Immortal.
Maybe if he heard the name a million times he’d get used to it - be able to begin to accept what he was. After all, this was one of the reasons he’d returned. He had been drawn to the one place where his ‘condition’ was not just accepted, but celebrated. Where what he was and who he was were one and the same. Where he could just be himself, whatever that was now.
Then Antonio replied. “We know that it was a vampire attack and there is talk that... that it might have been Angelus.”
Jack buried his face in his hands, then slowly looked up through his fingers. “I so did not want to hear that.”
“My apologies, your Benevolence,” Antonio said, but Jack shook his head. “Not your fault. I should have known they’d show up here sooner or later...”
Leaning back in the chair, he let his mind go over recent news stories, beginning to see a pattern. “Shouldn’t wonder if they were behind all the other things that have happened lately - they really do think they can get away with anything!”
For a moment Antonio’s eyes glittered in just the same way his mother’s once had. “Shall I ask Father Oremus to gather an mob?”
Suddenly laughing, Jack shook his head. This was perfect - finally he was in a position where he could actually do something. “No... I have a different idea. Tell me - the report... did it only mention Angelus and William?” Antonio nodded, and Jack’s eyes narrowed. “That means their women still aren’t in the game. Oh I think I have a plan, handsome boy!”
The servant flushed in pleasure at the old nickname, and Jack grinned.
“Try to find out where they’re staying. Then get the strongest servants together - tonight we go hunting!”
***
The hunt took a lot longer than anticipated.
Being busy with party preparations all day, Jack sent a couple of servants to watch the vampires' dwelling, but once they went out they managed - through design or by accident he didn't know - to get away. It took most of the night to find them again, but then thankfully things were easy. The vampires had speed, strength and cunning, but Jack had a large team and plenty of experience of catching hostiles in any terrain.
Soon enough he had them cornered, and they both turned to face him as he approached, even as their eyes looked in vain for a means of escape.
"Immortal!" Angelus said, voice a low menace, and Jack shook his head.
"Oh Angelus. I'm sorry it's come to this, but I’m tired of you two being a pain in my ass - especially because sadly it’s never been a literal one."
Smirking he beckoned his men forwards.
"Anyway - nice dreams!"
Then in no time at all Jack stood above two unconscious vampires, waiting for his carriage. Studying William’s face, half-hidden by unruly hair, he couldn’t help but shake his head. The likeness was uncanny... he’d have to get a closer look. Much closer.
As the servants got ready to string the vampires up in The Room of Pain (very handy facility, if a touch medieval) sometime later, Jack stopped them.
“Undress them first - down to their undergarments.”
Catching the looks they sent him, he chuckled.
“Oh no, not interested in any of that, even though they are rather handsome... but I want them humiliated.” He thought for a moment.
“Like David, cutting a piece off Saul’s cape.”
The men nodded sagely and followed his instructions without further questions, and Jack felt his mind wander as he silently watched them, arms folded. It was very hard not to ponder all the possibilities that presented themselves with two gorgeous men all shackled up, but he really didn’t need a reputation for molesting his prisoners. Humiliation - torture even - that was OK... But there were fine lines when it came to these things, and he needed to be on the right side. So it was just a case of David and Saul - not that David had tied Saul up, of course, but the sentiment was the same.
Yet again he felt very grateful towards the lovely religious girl who’d been trying to save his soul when crossing the Atlantic - and who had in the process managed to impart a great deal of Biblical knowledge. It came in handy at times like this. He’d tried to seduce her in return - because she was very, very pretty - and might even have succeeded if she hadn’t surprised him with the cabin boy. After that she’d denounced him as a vile sinner and told him he’d burn in hell when he died if he didn’t repent...
Laughing hysterically had probably not been the wisest option under the circumstances, but then the immortality was still something he was trying to get used to. Hell really was the least of his worries.
When his two vampires were shackled up good and proper, he sent the others away.
“Look - the party is tonight and there’s work to do. Antonio, I’m counting on you to oversee everything. Not sure how long this will take.”
Antonio nodded, and Jack smiled gratefully. Faithful, competent servants were a true pleasure, and Antonio had inherited his mother’s touch for organising. He knew that by now all he himself had to do was turn up - Antonio might even be happy to have him out of the way. His own presence seemed to put a dampener on the servant’s natural vocal skills.
Which left him with a whole day for dealing with his vampire problem...
After locking the door securely he walked up to them, studying Angelus first. Maybe a hair’s breath taller than himself, naturally big and imposing. They’d left his under shirt on, but Jack could still easily follow the gorgeous lines of the body beneath the fabric.
A great shame he was an evil bastard. Also a great shame he’d decided that they were enemies. The Immortal’s reputation was rather murky to say the least and a vampire lover or two would not cause any eyebrows to be raised.
But Angelus of course wasn’t his real interest - it was William. What was his nickname again? Spike.
Carefully Jack reached out and lifted his face. He’d never had a chance to study him up close before, and his breath caught as he took in the chiselled features... A familiar face in this place - someone to talk to, someone who didn’t think that gramophones and light bulbs were cutting-edge technology - would be worth more than everything he now owned, even if ‘William’ was a vampire now. But Jack could hardly keep him against his will...
Angrily he shook his head. This was ridiculous - he needed to find out if this was his old partner, and he needed to be methodical and detached.
First of all there were the obvious things, and he swiftly discovered that William carried no weapons or technology whatsoever. Of course vampires didn’t really need them, but the man he remembered had always had countless tricks up his sleeve... and other places. Jack couldn’t imagine simple death changing anyone from such deeply ingrained habits.
The only possible explanation was that someone had wiped his memory before leaving him in this time... and that was rather far-fetched, although not impossible. He certainly was good at pissing people off.
But then there was the hair - it was light brown and floppy, nothing like the tight dark curls of his former partner. Not to mention how badly it had been cut...
A thorough examination revealed more proofs; birthmarks in different places, scars missing - all the little details that only a lover would know. There had been other things that he’d noticed the few times they’d met, gestures and looks that seemed strange, but then it had been more than half a century since they’d last met, and he had been unwilling to trust his memory.
But finally, after lingering far too long, unwilling to let go, he gave up his efforts. This man really was a stranger.
It was probably some form of spatial genetic multiplicity, although how that worked over 3 millennia he wasn't quite sure.
He studied the face for one long, longing moment, then softly brushed his thumb over William’s lips. He was tempted to kiss him, but the vampire would probably be able to taste it, and then get even grumpier. And Jack didn’t want them any more upset - not in that way at least. He just wanted them gone.
Sighing he got out the syringes full of tranquilliser that he’d prepared earlier. He had no idea if drugs worked on vampires, but it couldn’t hurt to attempt to keep them unconscious. Again he dearly wished that they weren’t so thoroughly evil and hadn’t decided to hate him, because they could have had so much fun together. William - Spike - whatever his name was - might not be his former partner, but Jack was sure that he was just as skilful and full of kinky tricks...
It wasn’t fair, Jack thought with sudden melancholy. He had the power, but he was all alone whilst they had each other. He was sure that the two of them fought and argued and screwed and enjoyed their depraved unlife together in every possible way - they were immortal and conscience free, the whole world their playground. So why did they have to come and bother him, reminding him so forcibly of things he had lost? (Bad things, really, but still something that had been his.) The loneliness felt sharper and more bitter than ever before.
Damn them. They wanted a fight? We’ll he’d show them how it was done - the winner would be taking all.
As he stepped outside, locking the door securely, he realised that the sun would soon rise and smiled to himself, mischief blending with anger. Time to pay the ladies a visit - hopefully one with a more pleasant outcome. Women, he knew, were by far the more sensible sex, whether evil or good.
***
Looking out of the window and seeing the bright morning sunshine spill over endless red-tiled roofs, Darla’s eyes clouded in anger. At least until now the boys had come home every night, but clearly their latest stunt had been so elaborate that they’d been caught out by the sun.
This had to stop - except for once she wasn’t sure what to do.
She’d known that Angelus needed a new distraction, and had been trying to think of something suitably wicked when they’d accidentally crossed paths with The Immortal. What had it been... she couldn’t remember. But at one point there had been nuns.
Whatever the trigger had been, Angelus had sworn enmity. After all, what kind of villain was he if he didn’t have an arc-nemesis? And so the game had commenced, Angelus and William thick as thieves plotting against their foe, and Darla herself neglected - something she did not find a pleasant experience. Fondly she thought back on Holtz and all the fun they’d had, destroying his life until the only thing he had left was vengeance. But this Immortal - whoever or whatever he was - could not be attacked thus. He did not appear to have any family or close friends - no ties to the world except wealth, and no apparent interest in playing games. At every turn he had outwitted the boys, but he had never retaliated, never tried to catch them.
Fed up, Darla had demanded that Angelus take her to Rome - she loved the city, and had hoped that he would remember how much enjoyment they’d found before. Except then The Immortal had turned up...
Irritably she threw her cape over a chair and was about to ask Dru what she could think of to suitably punish their menfolk, when the door suddenly sprang open.
In the doorway stood a man - tall, broad shouldered and very handsome. He was wearing a caped coat, unbuttoned, revealing expensive clothing beneath, and although she had only seen him once before, from a distance, there was no mistaking who it was.
Darla often prided herself on her ability to categorise and label people within moments, and this man had the unmistakable bearing and air of a soldier - a far, far different breed than her own darling deadly boy... And, with sudden mirth, she realised that this was why Angelus would never be able to win his competition. This man was not interested in their sort of mind games, and never would be.
Slowly he stepped into the room, looked from her to Dru and back again with a calculating look in his eyes, before settling on her.
Then he smiled - revealing dimples, and eyes that sparkled even in the dimly lit room - and the world was suddenly different.
“You must be Darla. It is a great pleasure finally meeting you.”
He held out his hand, and, for the first time she could remember, she hesitated. She was the mistress of seduction, knew every nuance of every trick and had the measure of every man born in the world... and even so she almost faltered. Because in his eyes, in his smile, she saw herself.
The snares of men and women were different - but in this man’s eyes she saw the eternally female ‘I can be whatever you want’. And yet there was not a hint of subservience to it - no reason for it, except that this was clearly what he desired too. Pleasure for pleasure’s sake - that was his game.
She took his hand, carefully, deliberately, before replying. “And you must be The Immortal. Do you by any chance happen to know where our men have disappeared to?”
He chuckled, and she noticed that his eyes were very blue.
“I’m afraid I had to... detain them for a while. Don’t worry, they’ll be just fine, but I got tired of them bothering me and they didn’t seem inclined to talk any kind of sense. Being vampires, I presume they like bondage? Anyway, I’m thinking that you are probably as fed up with all this Alpha Male strutting as I am...”
She opened her mouth to answer when Drusilla cut in. The girl had been studying their guest in her own intense way ever since he entered, and now she laid a hand on his arm, her face entranced.
“I can see the stars in your eyes...” She tilted her head, staring like she could look right into his soul, and The Immortal watched her carefully.
“Drusilla I presume,” he said, and she nodded, eyes distant.
“I used to dance in the sunshine, singing songs and dreaming of other worlds. But you touched the stars...”
He looked rather disconcerted at her words, and Darla stepped closer, now truly intrigued. She had expected him to be a demon of some sort, but bizarrely he looked human, seemed human - his heartbeat easily sensed. And his scent... she frowned. She knew how humans smelt, every component familiar and most of them unpleasant... but this man was unlike anything she’d ever come across. She could see that he was perspiring and yet his scent was fragrant, with not a hint of the stale sour stench of sweat. And no fear whatsoever. People, creatures, men... they could lie and deceive with their hands and eyes and words - but none could fool her nose. What was he?
Clearly deciding that Dru could not be relied upon for sensible discourse he turned back to Darla: “You see, I was wondering - since you are clearly the ones ruling the roost, or I know nothing about relationships - could you possibly get your very handsome guys to stop bothering me? Unless you can talk them into bed, because that would be a far better way of expending energy!”
He chuckled again, and she thought to herself that he might possibly be the only logical man in the entire world. And seeing the lust in his eyes she knew - had probably known since the second he stepped through the door - what to do with him, and how to get her own back on Angelus for ignoring her.
“Well,” she replied coquettishly, “you could try talking the two of us into bed to begin with...”
She reached up and pulled the coat off his shoulders, handing it to Dru who carelessly threw it away, face as excited as when she thought the fairies had brought her birthday presents. The Immortal laughed, and leapt onto the bed with a boyish delight entirely unlike the image he had at first projected. Turning to face them he let his eyes silently devour them, then grinned widely. “I have a feeling that talking won’t be necessary. Which is just how I like it... oh yeah!”
His eyes twinkled in pure delight, clearly as utterly confident of his own irresistibility as she was of hers, and Darla followed him onto the bed, intrigued and mesmerised. She couldn’t work out who was ensnaring whom - was she allowing him to seduce her or the other way around? He was unlike any creature she had ever met... and it was thrilling to encounter something truly new.
As she came closer, he without hesitation reached out and pulled her onto his lap. “You know,” he murmured, his breath warm against her lips, “I’ve never kissed a vampire before. I’m beginning to think this might have been a great oversight on my part.”
The kiss was searing and urgent, and the feel of his pulse beneath her hands caused her eyes to flicker gold as they parted. He noticed, and - tilting his head - asked her if she’d show her vamp face.
Watching her transform, he was clearly fascinated.
“Amazing,” he muttered, following the contour of the ridges on her face. “Change back.”
Dru of course thought it a fabulous game, but Darla’s curiosity was piqued at his quietly muttered, “If only I’d paid better attention during my species teaching...” But then he suddenly caught her eyes.
“Is a vampire’s bite as erotic as I’ve been led to believe?”
“Only one way to find out,” she replied, smirking. He nodded and, holding her eyes, turned down his high collar and exposed his neck. Throwing Dru a glance, he asked:
“Will it be better with two?”
“Oh definitely,” she replied; and Dru, talking to herself about sunlight and a magic blue box, moved behind him, not needing any prompting. He appeared a touch concerned at Dru’s words, but Darla told him not to worry - no one could make sense of her. Then she let her fangs rest on his neck, sensing the blood rushing beneath...
Three hundred years she’d lived and feasted on humans, delighting in all the flavours - the innocence, the pain, the fear. But she’d never tasted one like this. Like his scent, his blood was the same and yet alien - was it the true taste of immortality? She felt him stifle a cry of pain as they first penetrated his skin, and then his large hands held her tighter, his body shivering from that rush that made so many smile as death came to them. She felt Dru’s hands on his chest, and let her own fingers slip below his belt. Through her bliss she obscurely noticed his heart slow down, but didn’t pay much attention until it faded out completely.
Abruptly pulling back she stared down at him as he took one last breath - and then died.
Dru had stopped feeding too, and he was laid out in her arms in beautiful stillness. Darla couldn’t understand it. Had he been human after all, despite everything? He had welcomed their bite - asked for it - but how could he die if he was immortal? Because he was definitely dead - if there was anything she knew, that was it. The fine line separating life from death was one she was oh so very familiar with.
Unsure she looked at Dru, and saw that the girl was staring at him utterly mesmerised, smiling in that way that meant that as usual she had some insight that others didn’t.
***
Waiting. Dru was good at waiting. Especially when she knew there was something incredible coming...
Darla was confused, but then Darla - for all her cleverness - was often unable to see clearly, the way Dru could. She held onto the man in her lap, stroking him carefully like he was one of her dolls - which was absurd, since he could not be broken. Ever. He was immortal - he was The Immortal. A fairy tale made real.
His mind was like a treasure chest - she could only glimpse it in parts, fascinated by riches she had never known. So many impossible things for which she did not have names. And there was delicious darkness and pain too - things hidden and lost; memories erased, leaving hollow spaces.
But above everything there was time. His life had been broken up - past, now and future zigzagging back and forth... Never before had she felt that anyone perceived the world like she did. That what had been and what could be were real and tangible - as flimsy and yet unalterable as each other.
And yet the stars never changed from their preordained courses.
They whispered their secrets to her, but he had touched them. And the stars had in turn reached down to him - gifting him with their own time, their own glory.
But then it started... she reached out for Darla’s hand, grasping tightly as her eyes never left the body she cradled. Slowly, slowly it built; like the first glimmers of dawn in the dark night’s sky, before abruptly growing and growing - light, brighter than any she’d seen, bursting from within him, flooding out to every part and remaking it anew. It was like the sun itself had come down to her, bathing her in the pure and eternal light of life. She would never see the sun again, and yet here she was, holding it in her hands, feeling it pulse under her fingers.
Then he gasped, for a moment staring around in wonder like all new born. But then he remembered where he was, and grinned at them both.
“Ladies! Now that? Was spec-tac-ular. I’m thinking I have to redefine the concepts of good and evil, because no way could a death like that ever be a bad thing! Oh, you just give me a moment and I will do my very, very best to repay you... And trust me - by the end of the day you too will have to redefine a few words!”
***
Looking out over the ballroom, Jack felt more at home than he had in 25 years. Humans and non-humans (and the myriad of in-betweens) were happily mixing and talking and dancing, and it could have been any party anywhere in the galaxies, except that the non-humans were ‘demons’ and outside there were carriages waiting, not space ships. But such details were easy to ignore for the time being. All he cared about was the fact that he had created a space where humans weren’t the norm and where the painfully restrictive conventions of ordinary life didn’t apply... where instead there were at least half a dozen different codes of conduct to remember, but everyone tried their best to be forbearing.
He’d left Darla and Dru barely able to walk just a few hours previously, but thankfully a hearty broth had given him back some strength - his new cook was brilliant. It had been one of his best-spent days ever, and no mistake. Dru had kinda freaked him out with her sharp insights, but thankfully she was too crazy for anyone to ever take her seriously. And Darla... he smiled to himself again. What a woman. He didn’t think he’d ever met anyone more suited for the Time Agency, flammability apart - so it was probably a good thing that she was stuck here. He knew he ought to feel guilty for the whole evil-thing... but he couldn’t.
The only dampener to his mood was the murder of Antonio’s uncle whom he had sent to free Angelus and William. But Jack had already had his revenge, and he seriously hoped that the women would be able to talk their men out of further retaliations - he didn’t want to have to kill them, since staying out of history’s way was one of the most important aspects of this alias. And he had a feeling that ‘The Scourge of Europe’ would still have a large role to play.
As he was wondering which guests to talk to next, Antonio’s voice cut through his thoughts - as always he heard him before he saw him.
“Master!”
“Yes Antonio? Have we run out of anything? No wait - I know. It’s the decorations. Did someone get offended by them? Eat them? Try to mate with them?”
The man shook his head. “No no no! It is the vampires! They are coming!”
Jack grinned widely. “Really? Well, let’s go see what they have to say...”
He carefully hid within hearing distance of the entrance, not intending to intervene unless absolutely necessary, and silently chuckled to himself as his doorman gave them short shift - he’d make sure to give the man an extra bonus.
‘Is there anything under blood vengeance?’ would keep him amused for days. Longer even. He dearly, dearly wished he could have been there when they’d returned and found their women ravished...
As he pulled back a corner of the curtain and watched them leave, angry and swearing, he became aware of someone standing behind him.
“They look sad, no?”
He turned to see an extraordinarily well-endowed woman peering around his shoulder at the retreating figures of the vampires.
“And who are you?” he asked, holding out his hand. Whoever this woman was she was Italian with a capital I - all overflowing and voluptuous and with a fiery temper too, he was sure.
“I am Ilona Costa Bianci - Wolfram e Hart sent me.”
He gave her another once-over with his eyes, eyebrows rising. He’d reluctantly sent the law firm an invitation, really not wanting anything to do with them, yet knowing that he’d have to maintain friendly relations. A couple of vampires declaring themselves his enemies was just annoying - having an evil law firm on his back would be catastrophic.
“Oh. You... don’t look like a lawyer.” This was stating the obvious, and her laughter bubbled up infectiously.
“True - but my superiors thought you might like this better than a man in a suit, si? I have... many talents.”
He grinned. “I don’t doubt it. And whilst I actually have a fondness for men in suits, I can’t say that I mind the alternative. So - what’s the plan?”
“Plan?” Oh she was shrewd - and very, very good. He hadn’t known that anyone could pack so much innuendo into one word. But he didn’t feel like playing games, and so laid the cards on the table.
“I know enough about Wolfram & Hart to know that they don’t send beautiful girls like you to parties just to be decorative, and I’m sure you have some fabulous deal worked out, all in my favour. Problem being: You do not have what I want, and never will. Also, I think your organisation is vile and despicable. However, I am quite willing to settle down to a mutually beneficial truce of some sort, if you’ll accept that I’ll never sign one of your contracts. What do you say?”
There was definite admiration in her eyes, and she smiled even as she shrugged.
“I read your file, and I see now that you have not changed at all in 300 years. This is a shame, but we will live with it.”
“Good. Now - would you like to dance?”
“But of course!” she replied. As they took to the dance floor she caught his eyes and asked, voice ensnaring and yet curious.
“So tell me Immortal - what is it that you desire that we cannot get you?”
For a moment he was silent, taking in the casual opulence of the ball room and all the wealth he had at his fingertips. Then he sighed.
Wrapping his arm more tightly around the woman in his arms - although goodness knew what she really was, she didn’t seem to breathe - he rested his head against hers and remembered another dance...
A young girl - sweet and innocent and not at all like the women he was spending today with; champagne, Glenn Miller and an invisible spaceship. Finally he replied, voice barely above a whisper.
“I want to touch the stars.”
Chapter 2
kathyh - as usual I don’t know what I’d have done without you! (How do people manage without beta readers? ‘Tis a mystery.) And since I’m here: Happy Birthday to
thedeadlyhook and ladypeyton. Hope you both have wonderful days! (If you want this as birthday fic btw, it’s all yours. On the other hand you’re probably as starved for reading time as I...)Setting & summary: 1894 - TGiQ flashbacks. (Fleshed out LOTS! *g* Also so meta-heavy that I’m worried it’ll sink.)
Spoilers: Same as the last part (S1-3 of DW), although it'll help if you know who ‘Captain John’ is.
Rating: PG-13. (If you want Dru/Jack/Darla pr0n, write your own! Not doing threesomes again. Ever.)
Word count: 6400 words approx.
Feedback: I can’t tell you how much I’d appreciate it, no matter how short! Seriously.
Prologue HERE. (If you need to catch up and want to find out how I made Jack 'The Immortal' of AtS fame.)
Finally, I thought people might like to be reminded of what Jack looked like at this time, so I found some pictures. Close up here, full length here (mmmm, coat...) and one where he's sitting, here (just because I liked it). :)
Chapter 1
Darla: Oh, come on. Have you seen him? With the eyes and the chest and the... (sighs blissfully) immortality.
William: We're immortal.
Darla: Not like him. I mean, he's not some common vampire. He's—I don't know what he is. A giant. A titan straddling good and evil, serving no master but his own considerable desires.
[...]
William: Drusilla, you—you let him touch you?
Drusilla: He felt like sunshine.
Vienna, 1894
Europe was quite a different place when one had money, Jack had soon realised. Last time he’d been in Vienna he’d mostly spent his time walking and admiring, but this time he found himself at the opera with a beautiful girl on his arm - which was far more like it.
Soon however he discovered the downside - opera, German opera in particular, was not his thing at all.
His only previous experience with the art form had been a fabulous Nu-Delta3-Phonic performance of ‘The Ring Cycle’ on Venus 5 in the 37th century, and whilst he hadn’t expected anything like naked flying valkyries - given the time period and the fact that they were watching a different opera - the sheer mind-numbing dullness of the show caused his eyes to wander over the audience, idly wondering if he could talk the girl into a threesome, until they stopped at the box opposite, containing two couples... and then he froze.
He didn’t notice a single thing that took place on stage for the rest of the performance, as his eyes were glued to a man he’d thought he’d lost forever - talking, laughing and clearly enjoying himself with his new companions.
It couldn’t be...
Jack tried his best to catch his eyes, but there was zero reaction - which wasn’t surprising since the other was probably pulling off some scam or other. The women though sent him a few appreciative smiles, much to his date’s consternation. (That ruled out threesomes then. Damn. On the plus-side though, it made the decision to ditch her a lot easier.)
When the show was finally over he rushed after them, desperate not to lose what might be his only chance to get off the planet - or at least out of this time - for goodness knew how many years. The men went off together and Jack saw them pick up a couple of pretty girls, but as he followed them down a dark, narrow sidestreet he received the evening’s second shock.
When he turned into the alley, he - as he had expected - saw two embracing couples... but as his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he with growing horror realised that something was very, very wrong. His head told him in no uncertain terms what he was witnessing, but still he couldn’t make himself believe it.
Without thinking he called out “Stop!” and the ‘men’ both looked up, yellow feline eyes studying him coldly.
Then their faces melted back to their human features as the tall, dark haired one looked him over disdainfully.
“And who are you to tell Angelus what to do?”
Jack clenched his jaw, looking from one to the other. This changed everything, and he wasn’t sure how to proceed - except that now he knew what name to use.
“I’m The Immortal.”
Angelus was clearly not impressed.
“Are you now? Come to beg some leftovers?”
Rudely he threw the half-conscious girl at him, and Jack almost stumbled trying to catch her, then found himself desperately trying to stop the bleeding from her neck.
“Please - do I look like a vampire?” he answered angrily, looking at Angelus with ill-concealed disgust.
“Nah,” Angelus leered, “you look like a self-important moron who’s bitten off more than he can chew.”
“Well look who’s talking,” Jack shot back, increasingly irritated. Sure vampires were evil - but this guy was clearly also a major jerk. Inwardly cursing he turned to the other one. It was too dark to discern what look was in his eyes, but Jack had to try - for old times sake if nothing else. He had plenty of experience of reasoning with this particular man and made sure to use the voice that was pleasant, but unmistakably authoritative:
“Just - let. the girl. go. Then we’ll talk, OK?”
The nasty grin should have warned him, but he was still shocked when the vampire casually snapped the girl's neck.
“Oops?”
Angelus beamed. “Ah! That was a good 'un William. Well done!”
They shot each other a look and laughed - so intimate and confidential Jack felt his hands curl into fists. Then Angelus slung his arm around William’s shoulders and they walked off, never looking back.
Jack was left standing in the dark alley clutching a dying girl, hands covered in blood and his mind thoroughly shaken.
His old partner had become a vampire. Unless of course it was just someone who happened to look like him - which was obviously a distinct possibility - but after his own 'Immortal' gig he was wary of jumping to conclusions.
He tried telling himself that he should leave ‘William’ alone - and yet after a few weeks he caught up with them in Frankfurt.
To his dismay he discovered that Angelus was far more dangerous than he’d thought, as well as being a thoroughly nasty piece of work in every way. Jack had seen a lot in his life, but he’d never come across someone who got off on destroying innocence as much as this creature. Nuns were a particular favourite, and - despite not really wanting to antagonise the vampires any more than necessary - Jack made sure to arrange safe passage for a whole convent on pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela.
But as soon as that crisis was over, Angelus managed to get hold of some Rathrun eggs, which presented an entirely different sort of danger. So Jack stole them and then hatched them himself - the only way to make sure they didn’t end up in the wrong hands.
These actions instantly earned him death threats, fury and sworn enmity - trying to be a good guy was really terribly inconvenient for his own personal aims.
After that he did his best to stay out of the vampires’ way, but somehow their paths kept colliding through Europe, and he felt compelled to step in time and again, as ever trying to control 'William' - and now by extension Angelus - the same way he always had. Control of course being more like damage-limitation. And through it all he found himself going near-insane not knowing. Was it him, or wasn't it? Every time he tried to just talk, they tried to kill him.
His old partner had always been a sociopath, and becoming a vampire clearly suited him perfectly - he probably thought that messing with Jack was the best game ever invented. At least the women didn’t appear interested in their deadly tag, and - grateful for small mercies - Jack wished the boys were as sensible. He didn’t want to fight them, he just - he didn’t even know what he wanted anymore. There were plenty of reasons why they’d split up...
Finally he decided to just return to Rome - throw a grand ball the way he'd been planning and actually try to enjoy himself. And definitely not invite any vampires.
Rome, later same year.
“Antonio! Good morning! Tell me - do we have mail? Any last acceptances for my big party?”
It really was a beautiful morning, and Jack felt like life was smiling on him again as he sat in the ornately carved chair behind his ancient desk. The early morning sun was falling through the windows and onto the rich carpet of the study, picking out the corner of his large portrait and making it look as though it was studded with a diamond. Which it could be, if he wanted. Money was nice. And tomorrow night it was finally time for his special ball with hundreds of guests...
Surely he’d find someone - or someones - to bring back to his very large and comfortable bed. He’d been reading up on the various demon species, and there were some that looked very flexible. Oh he’d enjoy this alias alright - starting with this party. What was the point of money if not to spend it?
Yes, it was a bandaid on a giant wound, but it was better than nothing... and hopefully it’d take his mind off things.
Antonio however didn’t seem to share his mood, waving his hands in great agitation before handing over an envelope.
“It is very bad, I’m afraid. Terrible news! We will be a few guests short, Immortal.”
Jack took the letter from him, frowning.
“What! Why?”
Without waiting for an answer he swiftly scanned the few lines, and Jack could feel a dent forming in his happy mood.
“Do we know who did this?”
Antonio hesitated for a moment, worry trailing over his features. In his face Jack could still see the echo of the boy who had once greeted him so brightly, and for just a second he felt immobilised with terror at what he was. His own face had remained so unchanged that it had been a shock to return to Rome to find everyone aged. Antonio was nearing middle age, married and with teenaged children, and Jack... Jack was The Immortal.
Maybe if he heard the name a million times he’d get used to it - be able to begin to accept what he was. After all, this was one of the reasons he’d returned. He had been drawn to the one place where his ‘condition’ was not just accepted, but celebrated. Where what he was and who he was were one and the same. Where he could just be himself, whatever that was now.
Then Antonio replied. “We know that it was a vampire attack and there is talk that... that it might have been Angelus.”
Jack buried his face in his hands, then slowly looked up through his fingers. “I so did not want to hear that.”
“My apologies, your Benevolence,” Antonio said, but Jack shook his head. “Not your fault. I should have known they’d show up here sooner or later...”
Leaning back in the chair, he let his mind go over recent news stories, beginning to see a pattern. “Shouldn’t wonder if they were behind all the other things that have happened lately - they really do think they can get away with anything!”
For a moment Antonio’s eyes glittered in just the same way his mother’s once had. “Shall I ask Father Oremus to gather an mob?”
Suddenly laughing, Jack shook his head. This was perfect - finally he was in a position where he could actually do something. “No... I have a different idea. Tell me - the report... did it only mention Angelus and William?” Antonio nodded, and Jack’s eyes narrowed. “That means their women still aren’t in the game. Oh I think I have a plan, handsome boy!”
The servant flushed in pleasure at the old nickname, and Jack grinned.
“Try to find out where they’re staying. Then get the strongest servants together - tonight we go hunting!”
The hunt took a lot longer than anticipated.
Being busy with party preparations all day, Jack sent a couple of servants to watch the vampires' dwelling, but once they went out they managed - through design or by accident he didn't know - to get away. It took most of the night to find them again, but then thankfully things were easy. The vampires had speed, strength and cunning, but Jack had a large team and plenty of experience of catching hostiles in any terrain.
Soon enough he had them cornered, and they both turned to face him as he approached, even as their eyes looked in vain for a means of escape.
"Immortal!" Angelus said, voice a low menace, and Jack shook his head.
"Oh Angelus. I'm sorry it's come to this, but I’m tired of you two being a pain in my ass - especially because sadly it’s never been a literal one."
Smirking he beckoned his men forwards.
"Anyway - nice dreams!"
Then in no time at all Jack stood above two unconscious vampires, waiting for his carriage. Studying William’s face, half-hidden by unruly hair, he couldn’t help but shake his head. The likeness was uncanny... he’d have to get a closer look. Much closer.
As the servants got ready to string the vampires up in The Room of Pain (very handy facility, if a touch medieval) sometime later, Jack stopped them.
“Undress them first - down to their undergarments.”
Catching the looks they sent him, he chuckled.
“Oh no, not interested in any of that, even though they are rather handsome... but I want them humiliated.” He thought for a moment.
“Like David, cutting a piece off Saul’s cape.”
The men nodded sagely and followed his instructions without further questions, and Jack felt his mind wander as he silently watched them, arms folded. It was very hard not to ponder all the possibilities that presented themselves with two gorgeous men all shackled up, but he really didn’t need a reputation for molesting his prisoners. Humiliation - torture even - that was OK... But there were fine lines when it came to these things, and he needed to be on the right side. So it was just a case of David and Saul - not that David had tied Saul up, of course, but the sentiment was the same.
Yet again he felt very grateful towards the lovely religious girl who’d been trying to save his soul when crossing the Atlantic - and who had in the process managed to impart a great deal of Biblical knowledge. It came in handy at times like this. He’d tried to seduce her in return - because she was very, very pretty - and might even have succeeded if she hadn’t surprised him with the cabin boy. After that she’d denounced him as a vile sinner and told him he’d burn in hell when he died if he didn’t repent...
Laughing hysterically had probably not been the wisest option under the circumstances, but then the immortality was still something he was trying to get used to. Hell really was the least of his worries.
When his two vampires were shackled up good and proper, he sent the others away.
“Look - the party is tonight and there’s work to do. Antonio, I’m counting on you to oversee everything. Not sure how long this will take.”
Antonio nodded, and Jack smiled gratefully. Faithful, competent servants were a true pleasure, and Antonio had inherited his mother’s touch for organising. He knew that by now all he himself had to do was turn up - Antonio might even be happy to have him out of the way. His own presence seemed to put a dampener on the servant’s natural vocal skills.
Which left him with a whole day for dealing with his vampire problem...
After locking the door securely he walked up to them, studying Angelus first. Maybe a hair’s breath taller than himself, naturally big and imposing. They’d left his under shirt on, but Jack could still easily follow the gorgeous lines of the body beneath the fabric.
A great shame he was an evil bastard. Also a great shame he’d decided that they were enemies. The Immortal’s reputation was rather murky to say the least and a vampire lover or two would not cause any eyebrows to be raised.
But Angelus of course wasn’t his real interest - it was William. What was his nickname again? Spike.
Carefully Jack reached out and lifted his face. He’d never had a chance to study him up close before, and his breath caught as he took in the chiselled features... A familiar face in this place - someone to talk to, someone who didn’t think that gramophones and light bulbs were cutting-edge technology - would be worth more than everything he now owned, even if ‘William’ was a vampire now. But Jack could hardly keep him against his will...
Angrily he shook his head. This was ridiculous - he needed to find out if this was his old partner, and he needed to be methodical and detached.
First of all there were the obvious things, and he swiftly discovered that William carried no weapons or technology whatsoever. Of course vampires didn’t really need them, but the man he remembered had always had countless tricks up his sleeve... and other places. Jack couldn’t imagine simple death changing anyone from such deeply ingrained habits.
The only possible explanation was that someone had wiped his memory before leaving him in this time... and that was rather far-fetched, although not impossible. He certainly was good at pissing people off.
But then there was the hair - it was light brown and floppy, nothing like the tight dark curls of his former partner. Not to mention how badly it had been cut...
A thorough examination revealed more proofs; birthmarks in different places, scars missing - all the little details that only a lover would know. There had been other things that he’d noticed the few times they’d met, gestures and looks that seemed strange, but then it had been more than half a century since they’d last met, and he had been unwilling to trust his memory.
But finally, after lingering far too long, unwilling to let go, he gave up his efforts. This man really was a stranger.
It was probably some form of spatial genetic multiplicity, although how that worked over 3 millennia he wasn't quite sure.
He studied the face for one long, longing moment, then softly brushed his thumb over William’s lips. He was tempted to kiss him, but the vampire would probably be able to taste it, and then get even grumpier. And Jack didn’t want them any more upset - not in that way at least. He just wanted them gone.
Sighing he got out the syringes full of tranquilliser that he’d prepared earlier. He had no idea if drugs worked on vampires, but it couldn’t hurt to attempt to keep them unconscious. Again he dearly wished that they weren’t so thoroughly evil and hadn’t decided to hate him, because they could have had so much fun together. William - Spike - whatever his name was - might not be his former partner, but Jack was sure that he was just as skilful and full of kinky tricks...
It wasn’t fair, Jack thought with sudden melancholy. He had the power, but he was all alone whilst they had each other. He was sure that the two of them fought and argued and screwed and enjoyed their depraved unlife together in every possible way - they were immortal and conscience free, the whole world their playground. So why did they have to come and bother him, reminding him so forcibly of things he had lost? (Bad things, really, but still something that had been his.) The loneliness felt sharper and more bitter than ever before.
Damn them. They wanted a fight? We’ll he’d show them how it was done - the winner would be taking all.
As he stepped outside, locking the door securely, he realised that the sun would soon rise and smiled to himself, mischief blending with anger. Time to pay the ladies a visit - hopefully one with a more pleasant outcome. Women, he knew, were by far the more sensible sex, whether evil or good.
Looking out of the window and seeing the bright morning sunshine spill over endless red-tiled roofs, Darla’s eyes clouded in anger. At least until now the boys had come home every night, but clearly their latest stunt had been so elaborate that they’d been caught out by the sun.
This had to stop - except for once she wasn’t sure what to do.
She’d known that Angelus needed a new distraction, and had been trying to think of something suitably wicked when they’d accidentally crossed paths with The Immortal. What had it been... she couldn’t remember. But at one point there had been nuns.
Whatever the trigger had been, Angelus had sworn enmity. After all, what kind of villain was he if he didn’t have an arc-nemesis? And so the game had commenced, Angelus and William thick as thieves plotting against their foe, and Darla herself neglected - something she did not find a pleasant experience. Fondly she thought back on Holtz and all the fun they’d had, destroying his life until the only thing he had left was vengeance. But this Immortal - whoever or whatever he was - could not be attacked thus. He did not appear to have any family or close friends - no ties to the world except wealth, and no apparent interest in playing games. At every turn he had outwitted the boys, but he had never retaliated, never tried to catch them.
Fed up, Darla had demanded that Angelus take her to Rome - she loved the city, and had hoped that he would remember how much enjoyment they’d found before. Except then The Immortal had turned up...
Irritably she threw her cape over a chair and was about to ask Dru what she could think of to suitably punish their menfolk, when the door suddenly sprang open.
In the doorway stood a man - tall, broad shouldered and very handsome. He was wearing a caped coat, unbuttoned, revealing expensive clothing beneath, and although she had only seen him once before, from a distance, there was no mistaking who it was.
Darla often prided herself on her ability to categorise and label people within moments, and this man had the unmistakable bearing and air of a soldier - a far, far different breed than her own darling deadly boy... And, with sudden mirth, she realised that this was why Angelus would never be able to win his competition. This man was not interested in their sort of mind games, and never would be.
Slowly he stepped into the room, looked from her to Dru and back again with a calculating look in his eyes, before settling on her.
Then he smiled - revealing dimples, and eyes that sparkled even in the dimly lit room - and the world was suddenly different.
“You must be Darla. It is a great pleasure finally meeting you.”
He held out his hand, and, for the first time she could remember, she hesitated. She was the mistress of seduction, knew every nuance of every trick and had the measure of every man born in the world... and even so she almost faltered. Because in his eyes, in his smile, she saw herself.
The snares of men and women were different - but in this man’s eyes she saw the eternally female ‘I can be whatever you want’. And yet there was not a hint of subservience to it - no reason for it, except that this was clearly what he desired too. Pleasure for pleasure’s sake - that was his game.
She took his hand, carefully, deliberately, before replying. “And you must be The Immortal. Do you by any chance happen to know where our men have disappeared to?”
He chuckled, and she noticed that his eyes were very blue.
“I’m afraid I had to... detain them for a while. Don’t worry, they’ll be just fine, but I got tired of them bothering me and they didn’t seem inclined to talk any kind of sense. Being vampires, I presume they like bondage? Anyway, I’m thinking that you are probably as fed up with all this Alpha Male strutting as I am...”
She opened her mouth to answer when Drusilla cut in. The girl had been studying their guest in her own intense way ever since he entered, and now she laid a hand on his arm, her face entranced.
“I can see the stars in your eyes...” She tilted her head, staring like she could look right into his soul, and The Immortal watched her carefully.
“Drusilla I presume,” he said, and she nodded, eyes distant.
“I used to dance in the sunshine, singing songs and dreaming of other worlds. But you touched the stars...”
He looked rather disconcerted at her words, and Darla stepped closer, now truly intrigued. She had expected him to be a demon of some sort, but bizarrely he looked human, seemed human - his heartbeat easily sensed. And his scent... she frowned. She knew how humans smelt, every component familiar and most of them unpleasant... but this man was unlike anything she’d ever come across. She could see that he was perspiring and yet his scent was fragrant, with not a hint of the stale sour stench of sweat. And no fear whatsoever. People, creatures, men... they could lie and deceive with their hands and eyes and words - but none could fool her nose. What was he?
Clearly deciding that Dru could not be relied upon for sensible discourse he turned back to Darla: “You see, I was wondering - since you are clearly the ones ruling the roost, or I know nothing about relationships - could you possibly get your very handsome guys to stop bothering me? Unless you can talk them into bed, because that would be a far better way of expending energy!”
He chuckled again, and she thought to herself that he might possibly be the only logical man in the entire world. And seeing the lust in his eyes she knew - had probably known since the second he stepped through the door - what to do with him, and how to get her own back on Angelus for ignoring her.
“Well,” she replied coquettishly, “you could try talking the two of us into bed to begin with...”
She reached up and pulled the coat off his shoulders, handing it to Dru who carelessly threw it away, face as excited as when she thought the fairies had brought her birthday presents. The Immortal laughed, and leapt onto the bed with a boyish delight entirely unlike the image he had at first projected. Turning to face them he let his eyes silently devour them, then grinned widely. “I have a feeling that talking won’t be necessary. Which is just how I like it... oh yeah!”
His eyes twinkled in pure delight, clearly as utterly confident of his own irresistibility as she was of hers, and Darla followed him onto the bed, intrigued and mesmerised. She couldn’t work out who was ensnaring whom - was she allowing him to seduce her or the other way around? He was unlike any creature she had ever met... and it was thrilling to encounter something truly new.
As she came closer, he without hesitation reached out and pulled her onto his lap. “You know,” he murmured, his breath warm against her lips, “I’ve never kissed a vampire before. I’m beginning to think this might have been a great oversight on my part.”
The kiss was searing and urgent, and the feel of his pulse beneath her hands caused her eyes to flicker gold as they parted. He noticed, and - tilting his head - asked her if she’d show her vamp face.
Watching her transform, he was clearly fascinated.
“Amazing,” he muttered, following the contour of the ridges on her face. “Change back.”
Dru of course thought it a fabulous game, but Darla’s curiosity was piqued at his quietly muttered, “If only I’d paid better attention during my species teaching...” But then he suddenly caught her eyes.
“Is a vampire’s bite as erotic as I’ve been led to believe?”
“Only one way to find out,” she replied, smirking. He nodded and, holding her eyes, turned down his high collar and exposed his neck. Throwing Dru a glance, he asked:
“Will it be better with two?”
“Oh definitely,” she replied; and Dru, talking to herself about sunlight and a magic blue box, moved behind him, not needing any prompting. He appeared a touch concerned at Dru’s words, but Darla told him not to worry - no one could make sense of her. Then she let her fangs rest on his neck, sensing the blood rushing beneath...
Three hundred years she’d lived and feasted on humans, delighting in all the flavours - the innocence, the pain, the fear. But she’d never tasted one like this. Like his scent, his blood was the same and yet alien - was it the true taste of immortality? She felt him stifle a cry of pain as they first penetrated his skin, and then his large hands held her tighter, his body shivering from that rush that made so many smile as death came to them. She felt Dru’s hands on his chest, and let her own fingers slip below his belt. Through her bliss she obscurely noticed his heart slow down, but didn’t pay much attention until it faded out completely.
Abruptly pulling back she stared down at him as he took one last breath - and then died.
Dru had stopped feeding too, and he was laid out in her arms in beautiful stillness. Darla couldn’t understand it. Had he been human after all, despite everything? He had welcomed their bite - asked for it - but how could he die if he was immortal? Because he was definitely dead - if there was anything she knew, that was it. The fine line separating life from death was one she was oh so very familiar with.
Unsure she looked at Dru, and saw that the girl was staring at him utterly mesmerised, smiling in that way that meant that as usual she had some insight that others didn’t.
Waiting. Dru was good at waiting. Especially when she knew there was something incredible coming...
Darla was confused, but then Darla - for all her cleverness - was often unable to see clearly, the way Dru could. She held onto the man in her lap, stroking him carefully like he was one of her dolls - which was absurd, since he could not be broken. Ever. He was immortal - he was The Immortal. A fairy tale made real.
His mind was like a treasure chest - she could only glimpse it in parts, fascinated by riches she had never known. So many impossible things for which she did not have names. And there was delicious darkness and pain too - things hidden and lost; memories erased, leaving hollow spaces.
But above everything there was time. His life had been broken up - past, now and future zigzagging back and forth... Never before had she felt that anyone perceived the world like she did. That what had been and what could be were real and tangible - as flimsy and yet unalterable as each other.
And yet the stars never changed from their preordained courses.
They whispered their secrets to her, but he had touched them. And the stars had in turn reached down to him - gifting him with their own time, their own glory.
But then it started... she reached out for Darla’s hand, grasping tightly as her eyes never left the body she cradled. Slowly, slowly it built; like the first glimmers of dawn in the dark night’s sky, before abruptly growing and growing - light, brighter than any she’d seen, bursting from within him, flooding out to every part and remaking it anew. It was like the sun itself had come down to her, bathing her in the pure and eternal light of life. She would never see the sun again, and yet here she was, holding it in her hands, feeling it pulse under her fingers.
Then he gasped, for a moment staring around in wonder like all new born. But then he remembered where he was, and grinned at them both.
“Ladies! Now that? Was spec-tac-ular. I’m thinking I have to redefine the concepts of good and evil, because no way could a death like that ever be a bad thing! Oh, you just give me a moment and I will do my very, very best to repay you... And trust me - by the end of the day you too will have to redefine a few words!”
Looking out over the ballroom, Jack felt more at home than he had in 25 years. Humans and non-humans (and the myriad of in-betweens) were happily mixing and talking and dancing, and it could have been any party anywhere in the galaxies, except that the non-humans were ‘demons’ and outside there were carriages waiting, not space ships. But such details were easy to ignore for the time being. All he cared about was the fact that he had created a space where humans weren’t the norm and where the painfully restrictive conventions of ordinary life didn’t apply... where instead there were at least half a dozen different codes of conduct to remember, but everyone tried their best to be forbearing.
He’d left Darla and Dru barely able to walk just a few hours previously, but thankfully a hearty broth had given him back some strength - his new cook was brilliant. It had been one of his best-spent days ever, and no mistake. Dru had kinda freaked him out with her sharp insights, but thankfully she was too crazy for anyone to ever take her seriously. And Darla... he smiled to himself again. What a woman. He didn’t think he’d ever met anyone more suited for the Time Agency, flammability apart - so it was probably a good thing that she was stuck here. He knew he ought to feel guilty for the whole evil-thing... but he couldn’t.
The only dampener to his mood was the murder of Antonio’s uncle whom he had sent to free Angelus and William. But Jack had already had his revenge, and he seriously hoped that the women would be able to talk their men out of further retaliations - he didn’t want to have to kill them, since staying out of history’s way was one of the most important aspects of this alias. And he had a feeling that ‘The Scourge of Europe’ would still have a large role to play.
As he was wondering which guests to talk to next, Antonio’s voice cut through his thoughts - as always he heard him before he saw him.
“Master!”
“Yes Antonio? Have we run out of anything? No wait - I know. It’s the decorations. Did someone get offended by them? Eat them? Try to mate with them?”
The man shook his head. “No no no! It is the vampires! They are coming!”
Jack grinned widely. “Really? Well, let’s go see what they have to say...”
He carefully hid within hearing distance of the entrance, not intending to intervene unless absolutely necessary, and silently chuckled to himself as his doorman gave them short shift - he’d make sure to give the man an extra bonus.
‘Is there anything under blood vengeance?’ would keep him amused for days. Longer even. He dearly, dearly wished he could have been there when they’d returned and found their women ravished...
As he pulled back a corner of the curtain and watched them leave, angry and swearing, he became aware of someone standing behind him.
“They look sad, no?”
He turned to see an extraordinarily well-endowed woman peering around his shoulder at the retreating figures of the vampires.
“And who are you?” he asked, holding out his hand. Whoever this woman was she was Italian with a capital I - all overflowing and voluptuous and with a fiery temper too, he was sure.
“I am Ilona Costa Bianci - Wolfram e Hart sent me.”
He gave her another once-over with his eyes, eyebrows rising. He’d reluctantly sent the law firm an invitation, really not wanting anything to do with them, yet knowing that he’d have to maintain friendly relations. A couple of vampires declaring themselves his enemies was just annoying - having an evil law firm on his back would be catastrophic.
“Oh. You... don’t look like a lawyer.” This was stating the obvious, and her laughter bubbled up infectiously.
“True - but my superiors thought you might like this better than a man in a suit, si? I have... many talents.”
He grinned. “I don’t doubt it. And whilst I actually have a fondness for men in suits, I can’t say that I mind the alternative. So - what’s the plan?”
“Plan?” Oh she was shrewd - and very, very good. He hadn’t known that anyone could pack so much innuendo into one word. But he didn’t feel like playing games, and so laid the cards on the table.
“I know enough about Wolfram & Hart to know that they don’t send beautiful girls like you to parties just to be decorative, and I’m sure you have some fabulous deal worked out, all in my favour. Problem being: You do not have what I want, and never will. Also, I think your organisation is vile and despicable. However, I am quite willing to settle down to a mutually beneficial truce of some sort, if you’ll accept that I’ll never sign one of your contracts. What do you say?”
There was definite admiration in her eyes, and she smiled even as she shrugged.
“I read your file, and I see now that you have not changed at all in 300 years. This is a shame, but we will live with it.”
“Good. Now - would you like to dance?”
“But of course!” she replied. As they took to the dance floor she caught his eyes and asked, voice ensnaring and yet curious.
“So tell me Immortal - what is it that you desire that we cannot get you?”
For a moment he was silent, taking in the casual opulence of the ball room and all the wealth he had at his fingertips. Then he sighed.
Wrapping his arm more tightly around the woman in his arms - although goodness knew what she really was, she didn’t seem to breathe - he rested his head against hers and remembered another dance...
A young girl - sweet and innocent and not at all like the women he was spending today with; champagne, Glenn Miller and an invisible spaceship. Finally he replied, voice barely above a whisper.
“I want to touch the stars.”
Chapter 2