Fic: Papa's Gone A-Hunting (Angel/SPN)
Nov. 20th, 2006 03:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
froggimus_rexTitle: Papa's Gone A-Hunting
Fandom: Angel the Series/Supernatural (crossover)
Rating: High PG-13-ish (Some violence and sexuality, more implied than not)
Spoilers: Nothing really specific. Say post-series for Angel, post Season One for Supernatural
Pairing: Angelus/Demon!John
Disclaimer: Not mine. I just play with them.
A/N: This is all![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wolfling and jyuu_chan's fault. Blame them.
LA was burning (again) and it was fun.
It seemed that the average Joe just couldn't handle a little apocalypse every now and then, and while he himself would never be so gauche as to use Spike's idiotic, if apt, 'happy meals on legs' simile, Angelus had to admit there was something more convenient than not in all these panicked fools swarming about like ants from an overturned hill. Just there for the taking.
Of course, when getting a meal involved no more effort than putting on a concerned face and maybe staking a few of his more annoying brethren, even the dullest of vampires would bored, and even the amusement to be gained from taking a day or three to finish off a snack palled all too quickly. Especially since they'd stopped sending those baby Slayers, all pluck and spitfire, every single one of them cocksure right up until the moment he snapped their necks, his way. Sure there was Connor, the brat had hotfooted it to the city as soon as he'd heard that Daddy wasn't home anymore, but he just wasn't as much fun without that unstable, half feral edge he'd had last time.
Quite frankly, he was more bored than he'd ever been, including the time his 'better half' had gotten himself trapped at the bottom of the Pacific, and a bored Angelus was nobody's friend.
This went double for his projects.
The first few had been more accidental than anything else, street kids like Gunn's old crew, people who'd knew what, but who hadn't realised just who they were dealing with. He'd killed them, turned a few of the more promising ones (then promptly given up on that idea when they all managed to get themselves staked within days by his irritating spawn), it had been fun, but nothing to write home about.
But then something interesting had happened. With the city declared a no man's land by the Slayers and Watchers, others had started to come to Los Angles. No great flood, just a trickle, one or two at a time, often with weeks between them. And what they lacked in quantity, they more than made up for in quality. Trained, dedicated, more often than not something resembling intelligent. None of them held a candle to Holtz, of course, he wouldn't have gone near them if they were, he was bored, not stupid. But they were, in a word, fun. Fun to lead on a chase. Fun to mess with. Fun to stalk. Fun to kill.
Angelus had no one reason why he hunted these hunters. Boredom. Keeping his skills honed. The thrill of actually needing to hunt. Wanting to re-establish himself as a force to be reckoned with after Angel'd gone soft and cuddly. Sometimes, it was just for the comical expressions on their faces when they realised they weren't quite as good as they thought. And then, then there were the special cases, the real challenges, the ones that cried out to the artist in him.
Ones like the Winchesters.
One of the most interesting, and useful, habits the hunters had were that almost all of them carried journals, log books of who and what they'd killed. In his more whimsical moments, Angelus imagined future generations of Watchers crowing over finding an original hunter's journal the way Wesley had over uncovering the more obscure arcane tomes. As he looked over his growing collection of these journals, patterns began to emerge, names of particularly effective hunters, places of interest, like a simply delightful sounding roadhouse that he really was going to have to pay a visit to one of these days, preferred methods of killing all manner of nasty beasties. Eventually the Winchesters caught his attention, less because of their, admittedly impressive if these bare scraps of information were to be believed, hunting skills than that the Winchesters, Daddy John and his two boys Sammy and Dean, were one big, happy family of hunters. And if there was one thing Angelus liked, it was families that stuck together. They made the torture that much more fun.
You could imagine his delight when the two Winchester boys finally showed up in LA. Everything that the journals had said and so much more, practically reeking of the kind of love and devotion that could be used to break someone far more effectively than weeks of torture. Not that the weeks of torture didn't hold its own appeal. Just thinking about some of the things he could do to those boys, or make them do, had left Angelus hard and aching.
So when they had the sheer dumb luck to run into Connor before he even had the chance to get things started, to say he was unhappy was something of an understatement. Luckily, his back-up plan was right now walking into the alley below him. After all, what dutiful sons wouldn't trust their father?
Dropping soundlessly to the ground, Angelus took out a razor blade and carefully sliced a shallow gash in his neck, pinching the sides of the wound so cold blood oozed out, staining his skin and shirt. He began to pretend to breathe faster and harder until he panted in a parody of hyperventilation. When he was sure he was as convincing as he could be without a reflection to check in, he ran into the alleyway, crying for help.
John winchester spun around at the sound, his sawn-off aimed at Angelus within heartbeats. "The hell?"
"Gang...attacked me..." Angelus gasped, as if the fact he was short of breath actually mattered. He made himself fall against the wall as he stumbled towards Winchester, tilting his head to display the blood glistening on his neck. "Their eyes...faces...all wrong..."
"What kind of wrong, son?" Winchester asked, bending to help him up.
"Well..." Angelus reached for Winchester's shoulders, tightly curling his fingers around the leather of his jacket. "A lot like this actually," he said as he went into game-face, bones shifting and fangs elongating as he dragged Winchester down towards him. He didn't even bother to spare a glance at his face before lunging for his neck and ripping open his jugular.
Blood, hot, coppery, and salty-sweet, gushed into Angelus's mouth as quickly as he could swallow it. So intent was he on draining Winchester quickly that it took several mouthfuls before he noticed the aftertaste. Not bitter, brackish and oily like that fishboy back in Sunnydale, this was sharp, almost clean, in fact it kind of tingled. Making a mental note to see later if the younger Winchesters tasted anything like this, Angelus doubled his efforts to finish him off.
Or at least he would have if an invisible hand hadn't just slammed him up against the wall opposite. Well, this was unexpected, he thought to himself as he looked down at Winchester, who watched him with fetid yellow eyes, chuckling to himself.
"Well, now, you try to help a fellow out, purely out of the goodness of your heart, and what does he do? He tries to eat you," he said, sounding more amused than angry. A barely noticable twitch of Winchester's eyes, and Angelus suddenly found himself very grateful he was dead and didn't really need those internal organs intact. "That's just rude, boy."
"Well, actually," Angelus winced as he spoke. Apparently talking without pain was easier with innards that weren't in the process of being smushed. "If you simply have to know, I was going to turn you, then use you to get to your kids. But obviously, somebody beat me to the punch. Great minds and all that."
Winchester tilted his head to the side, and the pressure on Angelus's chest slackened. He still couldn't move and he would have been in trouble if he needed to breathe, but at least his colon wasn't trying to fit into his chest cavity anymore. "You know where Sammy and Dean are?"
"Yeah," Angelus replied. "Unfortunately your kids've shacked up with mine. Pity really, I would have gotten them months ago, and this could've been quite the family reunion, otherwise."
"Your kid..." Winchester frowned, then started laughing. "Angelus. Forgive me, I hadn't realised I was in such...reputable company."
"Always good to be noticed, think you could let me down now?"
Winchester grinned, and Angelus started slowly sliding down the wall. "Anything for a vampire such as yourself," he said, bowing his head.
The second his feet touched the ground Angelus pushed off the wall. Except for the part were he couldn't. "Funny, now let me off the wall too."
"Not so fast there, boy," Wincester started stalking towards him. "It occurs to me that we could be of quite some use to each other."
"You know, I can listen just as well when I'm not tied up."
Winchester placed his hands on either side of Angelus's head. "And here I was under the impression you rather liked that," he all but purred in his ear, his voice low and rough and shooting straight to Angelus's groin. "Or am I talking to the wrong Angelus?"
"Well, if you're going to be that way about it," Angelus groaned as the invisible force holding him began a much more pleasant kind of squeezing. "I'm your vamp. Go on."
"We both have a problem with ungrateful offspring." Angelus could feel the heat from Winchester's breath, stubble just barely ghosting across his skin as he spoke. "I'm thinking we could give each other a hand disciplining our boys."
Angelus sucked in an unneeded breath as another invisble hand ran up his torso, then a third, and a fourth. "I'm a big fan of showing a firm hand when needed."
"So I gathered. Do we have a deal?" Winchester asked.
"Yes." Angelus's hips jerked forward as the unseen hands stepped up their efforts, tweaking, pinching, scraping and caressing. He growled in frustration when he found himself held even more firmly to the wall than before, unable to do even that. "We have a deal."
Winchester gave him no more reply than a smirk, before he pulled Angelus's head towards his in a rough kiss.
Fandom: Angel the Series/Supernatural (crossover)
Rating: High PG-13-ish (Some violence and sexuality, more implied than not)
Spoilers: Nothing really specific. Say post-series for Angel, post Season One for Supernatural
Pairing: Angelus/Demon!John
Disclaimer: Not mine. I just play with them.
A/N: This is all
wolfling and jyuu_chan's fault. Blame them. LA was burning (again) and it was fun.
It seemed that the average Joe just couldn't handle a little apocalypse every now and then, and while he himself would never be so gauche as to use Spike's idiotic, if apt, 'happy meals on legs' simile, Angelus had to admit there was something more convenient than not in all these panicked fools swarming about like ants from an overturned hill. Just there for the taking.
Of course, when getting a meal involved no more effort than putting on a concerned face and maybe staking a few of his more annoying brethren, even the dullest of vampires would bored, and even the amusement to be gained from taking a day or three to finish off a snack palled all too quickly. Especially since they'd stopped sending those baby Slayers, all pluck and spitfire, every single one of them cocksure right up until the moment he snapped their necks, his way. Sure there was Connor, the brat had hotfooted it to the city as soon as he'd heard that Daddy wasn't home anymore, but he just wasn't as much fun without that unstable, half feral edge he'd had last time.
Quite frankly, he was more bored than he'd ever been, including the time his 'better half' had gotten himself trapped at the bottom of the Pacific, and a bored Angelus was nobody's friend.
This went double for his projects.
The first few had been more accidental than anything else, street kids like Gunn's old crew, people who'd knew what, but who hadn't realised just who they were dealing with. He'd killed them, turned a few of the more promising ones (then promptly given up on that idea when they all managed to get themselves staked within days by his irritating spawn), it had been fun, but nothing to write home about.
But then something interesting had happened. With the city declared a no man's land by the Slayers and Watchers, others had started to come to Los Angles. No great flood, just a trickle, one or two at a time, often with weeks between them. And what they lacked in quantity, they more than made up for in quality. Trained, dedicated, more often than not something resembling intelligent. None of them held a candle to Holtz, of course, he wouldn't have gone near them if they were, he was bored, not stupid. But they were, in a word, fun. Fun to lead on a chase. Fun to mess with. Fun to stalk. Fun to kill.
Angelus had no one reason why he hunted these hunters. Boredom. Keeping his skills honed. The thrill of actually needing to hunt. Wanting to re-establish himself as a force to be reckoned with after Angel'd gone soft and cuddly. Sometimes, it was just for the comical expressions on their faces when they realised they weren't quite as good as they thought. And then, then there were the special cases, the real challenges, the ones that cried out to the artist in him.
Ones like the Winchesters.
One of the most interesting, and useful, habits the hunters had were that almost all of them carried journals, log books of who and what they'd killed. In his more whimsical moments, Angelus imagined future generations of Watchers crowing over finding an original hunter's journal the way Wesley had over uncovering the more obscure arcane tomes. As he looked over his growing collection of these journals, patterns began to emerge, names of particularly effective hunters, places of interest, like a simply delightful sounding roadhouse that he really was going to have to pay a visit to one of these days, preferred methods of killing all manner of nasty beasties. Eventually the Winchesters caught his attention, less because of their, admittedly impressive if these bare scraps of information were to be believed, hunting skills than that the Winchesters, Daddy John and his two boys Sammy and Dean, were one big, happy family of hunters. And if there was one thing Angelus liked, it was families that stuck together. They made the torture that much more fun.
You could imagine his delight when the two Winchester boys finally showed up in LA. Everything that the journals had said and so much more, practically reeking of the kind of love and devotion that could be used to break someone far more effectively than weeks of torture. Not that the weeks of torture didn't hold its own appeal. Just thinking about some of the things he could do to those boys, or make them do, had left Angelus hard and aching.
So when they had the sheer dumb luck to run into Connor before he even had the chance to get things started, to say he was unhappy was something of an understatement. Luckily, his back-up plan was right now walking into the alley below him. After all, what dutiful sons wouldn't trust their father?
Dropping soundlessly to the ground, Angelus took out a razor blade and carefully sliced a shallow gash in his neck, pinching the sides of the wound so cold blood oozed out, staining his skin and shirt. He began to pretend to breathe faster and harder until he panted in a parody of hyperventilation. When he was sure he was as convincing as he could be without a reflection to check in, he ran into the alleyway, crying for help.
John winchester spun around at the sound, his sawn-off aimed at Angelus within heartbeats. "The hell?"
"Gang...attacked me..." Angelus gasped, as if the fact he was short of breath actually mattered. He made himself fall against the wall as he stumbled towards Winchester, tilting his head to display the blood glistening on his neck. "Their eyes...faces...all wrong..."
"What kind of wrong, son?" Winchester asked, bending to help him up.
"Well..." Angelus reached for Winchester's shoulders, tightly curling his fingers around the leather of his jacket. "A lot like this actually," he said as he went into game-face, bones shifting and fangs elongating as he dragged Winchester down towards him. He didn't even bother to spare a glance at his face before lunging for his neck and ripping open his jugular.
Blood, hot, coppery, and salty-sweet, gushed into Angelus's mouth as quickly as he could swallow it. So intent was he on draining Winchester quickly that it took several mouthfuls before he noticed the aftertaste. Not bitter, brackish and oily like that fishboy back in Sunnydale, this was sharp, almost clean, in fact it kind of tingled. Making a mental note to see later if the younger Winchesters tasted anything like this, Angelus doubled his efforts to finish him off.
Or at least he would have if an invisible hand hadn't just slammed him up against the wall opposite. Well, this was unexpected, he thought to himself as he looked down at Winchester, who watched him with fetid yellow eyes, chuckling to himself.
"Well, now, you try to help a fellow out, purely out of the goodness of your heart, and what does he do? He tries to eat you," he said, sounding more amused than angry. A barely noticable twitch of Winchester's eyes, and Angelus suddenly found himself very grateful he was dead and didn't really need those internal organs intact. "That's just rude, boy."
"Well, actually," Angelus winced as he spoke. Apparently talking without pain was easier with innards that weren't in the process of being smushed. "If you simply have to know, I was going to turn you, then use you to get to your kids. But obviously, somebody beat me to the punch. Great minds and all that."
Winchester tilted his head to the side, and the pressure on Angelus's chest slackened. He still couldn't move and he would have been in trouble if he needed to breathe, but at least his colon wasn't trying to fit into his chest cavity anymore. "You know where Sammy and Dean are?"
"Yeah," Angelus replied. "Unfortunately your kids've shacked up with mine. Pity really, I would have gotten them months ago, and this could've been quite the family reunion, otherwise."
"Your kid..." Winchester frowned, then started laughing. "Angelus. Forgive me, I hadn't realised I was in such...reputable company."
"Always good to be noticed, think you could let me down now?"
Winchester grinned, and Angelus started slowly sliding down the wall. "Anything for a vampire such as yourself," he said, bowing his head.
The second his feet touched the ground Angelus pushed off the wall. Except for the part were he couldn't. "Funny, now let me off the wall too."
"Not so fast there, boy," Wincester started stalking towards him. "It occurs to me that we could be of quite some use to each other."
"You know, I can listen just as well when I'm not tied up."
Winchester placed his hands on either side of Angelus's head. "And here I was under the impression you rather liked that," he all but purred in his ear, his voice low and rough and shooting straight to Angelus's groin. "Or am I talking to the wrong Angelus?"
"Well, if you're going to be that way about it," Angelus groaned as the invisible force holding him began a much more pleasant kind of squeezing. "I'm your vamp. Go on."
"We both have a problem with ungrateful offspring." Angelus could feel the heat from Winchester's breath, stubble just barely ghosting across his skin as he spoke. "I'm thinking we could give each other a hand disciplining our boys."
Angelus sucked in an unneeded breath as another invisble hand ran up his torso, then a third, and a fourth. "I'm a big fan of showing a firm hand when needed."
"So I gathered. Do we have a deal?" Winchester asked.
"Yes." Angelus's hips jerked forward as the unseen hands stepped up their efforts, tweaking, pinching, scraping and caressing. He growled in frustration when he found himself held even more firmly to the wall than before, unable to do even that. "We have a deal."
Winchester gave him no more reply than a smirk, before he pulled Angelus's head towards his in a rough kiss.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-11-19 05:06 pm (UTC)Hi. This was good. :D :D :D
no subject
Date: 2006-11-27 05:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-19 06:22 pm (UTC)I'm...oh. Somehow, you fading there works really well. Demon!John and Angelus..what a pairing!
Hope it's okay if I link to this in
no subject
Date: 2006-11-27 05:15 am (UTC)Yeah, linking's totally okay with me. :)
no subject
Date: 2006-11-20 12:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-27 05:24 am (UTC)As to there being more...uh, maybe, depending on whether I can work out an actual plot beyond Angelus/Demon!John vs. Connor, Sammy And Dean.
no subject
Date: 2006-11-20 02:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-27 05:27 am (UTC):D
no subject
Date: 2006-11-22 06:20 am (UTC)First time I've ever seen this pairing.
Great stuff. :D
Is there going to be more?
no subject
Date: 2006-11-27 05:37 am (UTC)Wish I could say I came up with the pairing idea on my own but *points at
There might be more, if I can come up with a decent plot for it.
no subject
Date: 2006-11-22 05:54 pm (UTC)Somehow I missed this until today. But gah.
I need to throw out random comments in OOC threads more often if this is the result. ;)
no subject
Date: 2007-10-06 02:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-06 11:06 pm (UTC)is there anymore of this? it was awesome!