A Walk in the Clouds
Introduction:
This fic is a Buffy/Spike fantasy AU round robin fanfiction loosely based on the movie entitled, "A Walk in the Clouds" starring Keanu Reeves. Although loosely based on the movie, there will be characters and story elements not present and/or different from the movie. The fiction involves the following fanfic authors: Sandy S., Zarrah, Jenn, DJ, LadyAnne, and possibly others. A different author will write each chapter.
The rated "R" version of the fic will be posted at ff.net while both the "R" and "NC-17" versions will be posted at Forever Devoted (forever.hybrid-genesis.com) and Always Forever (zarrah.net). This is not intended to be a PWP fiction.
Disclaimer: The characters in this story do not belong to us. They belong to Joss Whedon and/or the writers of the movie, "A Walk in the Clouds."
Story Summary: Set in 1945 after World War II, William Sutton returns home from a tour of duty in the armed services to find his life has changed. After meeting the beautiful daughter of a well known vineyard owner and agreeing to pose as her husband so she can face her domineering father, passion unlike either have ever experienced ignites during the sensual allure of the harvest festival.
Intro aside. . . let the story begin!!! :o)
A Walk in the Clouds
Chapter 1
Sandy S.
1945, Los Angeles
Inhaling the salty air of the sea mingled with the familiar scents of the city, William Sutton tried to stifle the twisted knot of fear, relief, and anticipation in his stomach. He clutched the strap of his travel bag with his left hand, shifted uncomfortably in his freshly starched uniform, and scanned the crowd at the dock, searching for anyone who might be there to greet him. Shouts between the ship and dock doubled in intensity as eager people spied one another.
"So, see anyone you know?" Mike asked loudly over his shoulder.
In attempt to latch onto anyone he knew, William searched fruitlessly and waited a heartbeat before responding, "No! You?"
"Not yet. It all sort of feels surreal doesn't it? All these people here. . . happy for our return."
Brilliant blue eyes wide, William swept his free hand through his sun-kissed, curly brown hair. He grimaced as his thoughts flashed back to the smoke-filled battlefields, the explosions, and the sound of gunfire and victims and soldiers wailing and screaming. In his head, victims and soldiers were two separate kinds of people. One group was helpless, hadn't asked for all the destruction and nightmares. . . was human. The other group. . .the opposing forces were faceless, lacked emotion. . . were made up of automatons.
Overwhelmed by a sudden onslaught of feelings, William shuddered and shook his head to clear the shroud of his darkest memories away. "Yeah, yeah, it does."
Mike didn't seem to hear him; he had found his family and was waving enthusiastically at them. William thought ironically that no one on the docks understood what they'd been through. Letters were simply incapable of capturing the fear, the horror. . . the death that had surrounded them, permeating every instant of their existence for the past year.
"Do you see them, Will? Do you?"
For a second, William wasn't sure about whom Mike was referring. "Who?"
"My family!" Pointing at them, Mike's hand moved across the sea of faces. "That's my wife, Beth, and my little ones, Nancy and Travis. Oh my goodness, Travis has grown! He'll be ready to play ball in no time!"
Pulling his hat on with one hand, William couldn't make out anyone clearly, but he acknowledged his friend politely, "Yeah. I see!"
At that moment, the ship that had been moving slowly forward halted with a boom, jarring them forward a little. The crowds on both sides surged forth, and William was jostled from Mike's side as they rushed to stand on unmoving land again. As his feet touched the ground for the first time in weeks with no one to embrace him or welcome him back to the States, William couldn't help thinking that he had no idea what exactly to do next.
* * *
Over an hour later, William finally escaped the tangled net of the docks and found that he was walking down the empty, dimly lit corridor to his apartment. His heart in his throat, he ran his thumb over the now familiar silver band on his left ring finger. The ring, a symbol of his commitment and devotion, had been his only tie to his old life for the past year.
He'd met Drusilla when he was on leave to the States a year ago. . . before he was shipped to Europe to fight. Dancing at the bar to her own soundless song and capturing the attention of all the soldiers, she had had eyes only for William, mesmerizing him with her ivory skin, fathomless eyes, and cascading dark hair. They'd married that evening after they'd had a few too many drinks, and they'd made passionate love in his apartment. The next morning, he'd left her side reluctantly to ship out for his tour of duty.
What would she be like now? Would she even be waiting for him?
At his door, he paused and glanced back down the hall. Nothing had changed since he'd left twelve months ago. He could still hear Mrs. Kinley's radio blaring from next door, and his landlord still hadn't fixed the leak in the ceiling. It was almost as if the building had held its breath until his return.
His hand went to his pocket, and he fished out the small key that was warm from pressing against his thigh. Sliding the metal into the lock, he let out his breath when he found that it still fit like a glove. Part of him hadn't expected it to. Turning the key, the latch clicked softly beneath his touch, and he took in another breath and slowly opened the door.
Tentatively, he took in the contents of the tiny entryway. The small table he'd bought from the bar owner upon Dru's insistence was covered in knickknacks, unopened envelopes, scarves, and a half-empty glass. His heart thudded in his chest as he caught a whiff of her jasmine-scented perfume hovering in the air.
She was still here. He'd been half-afraid that she wouldn't be. She was such a ball of energy and seductive passion that he wasn't sure if he'd be able to contain her.
Sunlight suddenly poured over his eyes as the door to the bedroom slammed open. Blinking and holding his hand up at the change in luminosity, he squinted and vaguely made out the tall, willowy form of his wife, still wearing her ebony dressing gown.
"William! My darling husband!" she cried, launching herself at him and throwing her slender arms around his neck. "You're home! I expected you next week!"
Closing his eyes and inhaling her essence, William made himself push her back a little. Studying her dark, liquid eyes and caressing her thick, dark curls, he felt something melt inside. "Yeah, didn't you get my letter? I said that we were getting in a bit earlier than they anticipated."
Dru planted her hands on her hips and stuck her bottom lip out in a pout. "No. Well, probably. You know I'm no good at opening the mail. I get distracted."
William was a little hurt by this revelation. "Oh. Did you get my letters then? I tried to write as often as I could."
Dru's face lit up, and she clapped her hands once before tugging him into their bedroom. "Yes! I got them all! A-and I saved them!" She tugged open the nightstand drawer so that several carefully stacked envelopes peered up at them. . . .
"You didn't open any of them?" William dropped her hand unceremoniously as the anger rose in him. First, she hadn't shown up at the docks, and now this?
Appropriately abashed, Dru ducked her head. "Well, I-I saved them all. A-and I thought of you everyday when I looked at them. First thing in the morning when I woke up and last thing at night before I went to sleep, I'd look at them."
Rage fueled William's next words, "You *looked* at them? I poured myself into those letters. . . what I was going through on the battl. . . out there. . . what I wanted for our future. . . and you just *looked* at them?"
"Yes, well, I thought you knew I didn't know how to read," Dru explained, peeking at him from behind a curl.
William took note of the open book that was turned upside down on her dresser. "Don't know how to read?" he asked incredulously. He strode across the room, not bothering to step around her clothing that was strewn across the floor. Snatching up the book, he demanded, "What's this then?"
Hesitantly, Dru approached him and softly shut the cover of the book so that William could read the title. "I'm learning how. I've been thinking about our future, too, you know."
William colored slightly. "Oh." Leaning against the open dresser drawer, he allowed Dru to caress his arm. "And what have you thought about?" he asked dumbly.
Dru's face glowed with excitement. "That I think we can go places! You're a brilliant salesman. And I'm taking a few courses to learn how to read and do figures. I could be your bookkeeper, and we could travel together and make tons of money. Eventually, we could build a nice big house and have elegant parties and invite all the important people to visit. Maybe we could even have some of those Hollywood people come, too. You could wear your uniform, and you could hire people to do the sales for you. Won't it be fun to mingle with the rich and powerful?"
"Um, yeah." William was distracted by other thoughts. "You could have had someone read them to you."
"What?" Frowning, Dru was baffled by his change of subject. "You're really stuck on the notion that I couldn't read your letters, aren't you?"
Her lips turned up seductively, and she snaked her arms around his waist, plunging her fingers beneath his waistband. William felt waves of need flood over him for the first time in months. He pressed his hips into hers as she ran her tongue over his slightly parted lips.
She paused and whispered, "I didn't want to share such private thoughts with a complete stranger, you know. I wanted your words to be mine alone. . . not some stranger's, too."
"You could have had someone you trust read them to you," he breathed in return, nipping her lower lip and running his hands around her slender waist. "Like my brother."
Dru laughed slightly and nibbled his lip in return, fumbling for his zipper. "Silly boy. I missed you."
William responded by pulling her close and kissing her hard and fast so that they were both breathless with desire. Pausing only to strip off necessary clothing, William led Dru to their bed for the second time since they were married twelve months earlier.
* * *
His dress uniform was slightly rumpled, but William didn't care. He'd spent a lovely night with Dru, and he'd slept late with her warm body snuggled next to him. Now, he wasn't looking to impress anyone; he was entering a bar. . . his brother's bar. Although William was raised in an orphanage, and he had no blood siblings, he had a close relationship with Angel.
Growing up together, he and Angel had shared a bunk in the orphanage, and they'd especially enjoyed terrifying the poor nuns who ran the home. There were many nights that William and Angel snuck out of their rooms and headed down to the nearby pond. They'd fish or swim, and some nights, they'd lay under the stars and trade secrets.
The night they'd declared themselves brothers was the night that William had leaped from a tree branch right as the branch snapped. Instead of landing in deep water like he'd planned, William had plunged headfirst into the shallow area, earning a nifty little head injury that disoriented him for several minutes. Despite having a bum leg, Angel had saved him from drowning, and under the deadly tree, they swore lifelong and solemn loyalty to one another. They'd never had to tell the nuns about the accident, and they didn't sneak out again for a very long time after that.
Because of his crippled leg, Angel hadn't had to go to war, and while William was gone, he'd continued to run his bar and look after Dru for William.
The bar smelled slightly of stale beer and was virtually empty when William entered in the early afternoon. With dark hair and tall, striking looks, Angel was lurking behind the bar as usual, washing glasses.
Angel lifted a hand in greeting. "Hey, little bro! Come for your first beer in the States?"
Chuckling, William swung a leg over the stool at the bar. "Certainly not my *first* beer." He cupped the fresh mug that Angel presented him.
Angel studied his friend with a strange expression. . . one that William couldn't identify. "You look different. I've seen you in uniform, so that's not it. Hmmm."
"Thinner?" William suggested, taking a sip of beer. "Let me tell you, the food in the trenches was horrendous."
"I bet. And no, that's not it." Angel glanced down, paying close attention to his work. "You seen Dru yet?"
Watching Angel's face for a second, William decided to ignore the odd response in his gut. "Yeah. Yesterday. . . this morning. She's just as beautiful as when I married her. You know that she's teaching herself how to read?"
"Yep. She is a bright girl." Angel turned from his brother to re-stock the shelf behind him with clean glasses.
"She is," William said happily, thinking back to the previous night. "Thanks for looking after her for me. It's a debt I don't know if I'll ever be able to repay."
Angel met his eyes directly. "You're welcome." Then, their moment of connection was lost again, and William choked back the nagging feeling yet again. "So," Angel continued, inclining a head toward the bag that William had set on the bar, "what're you up to?"
"Going to Sacramento," William replied, patting the case. "Selling chocolate again."
"Really? So soon?" Angel asked carefully. "How long will you be gone?"
"Not sure. As long as it takes to sell my supply, I suppose. Dru wants me to get started on saving for our future, and she's encouraging me to get out there and go for it right away, so I don't sit around and dwell on what happened overseas."
Tucking the dishtowel in his apron, Angel seemed to brighten at William's words. "Yeah. That's a good idea. It must have been horrible for you over there."
William studied the golden fluid in his mug. For some reason, he felt hesitant to tell Angel exactly what he'd experienced. "It was" was all he said. Standing before Angel could ask more questions, he handed his brother the half-full beer. "Thanks for the beer. I better get going. Got a train to catch."
"Right," Angel acknowledged. "A train." He paused then added hastily, "I'll look after Dru for you."
William's head shot up for a moment in alarm. Then, he nodded. "Thanks."
Heading for the door, William felt heavier than he'd felt in days, but he couldn't put his finger on why. When he'd pulled the door open, he heard Angel call after him. He peered back at his brother, but the darkness of the bar coupled with the brightness of the light outside made Angel invisible. "What?" he called blindly.
"I said, good luck with your sales," Angel said again.
Backing further into the street, William sent his unseen brother a silent mock-salute before the door shut, placing a physical barrier between the two men.
TBC. . .
