She hadn't even noticed Angelus come in. Her back had been to the window, her gorgeous neck and upper back exposed through her turquoise shirt with the tie in back. He hadn't been really hungry but his body had growled for her flesh. And he could not deny his body.

She wanted it too, he could tell. Her bottle blond hair and her long, gaudy fingernails trying to daintily play the piano in her nearly empty house attested to it. Angelus didn't care whether she wanted it right then or not though, she would end up panting his name. They always did.

Like most women, she had locked her front door but had forgotten her back, as though a robber were going to give up after one door was locked or after he had heard her playing in her house, all alone. Her nice, quiet, big, clean house where she lived all alone.

You could add sparse to that list. Angelus looked around as he entered the kitchen. Stainless steel and fake wood cabinets; a tall glass of water sitting on the clean island with just a hint of lemon scent shivered a bit as he walked past, his claws lightly moving over the lower end of expensive marble.

There wasn't much to the house save for herself and the piano. She did have a brilliant leather chair resting in a corner with a throw hung over it, as though the chair arm itself was cold. Not a television nor a hint of a cell phone or computer. She was unplugged, enlightened. Her magazine rack had two years worth of Economist and Mother Jones magazines filtered into it in an almost haphazard fashion.

The scent of lemon blended into the scent of orchid, more of a laundry soap mask than a perfume. He was surprised how clean she was, how deep her expression and how long the lines of her face were. From the back she had looked so young and now he felt less like he had found his new Lolita and more as though he had found a contemporary to break into pieces.

She was still playing as Angelus threw himself into the space behind her. She continued to play a complicated chord as goosebumps poked from the bare spot on her back. Her fingers trembled, almost halting and definitely slowing, as she felt claws grasp for her neck.

"Don't stop," he whispered as he bit down.

She had to stop, eventually. Fingers need blood and a beating heart to keep moving. She had neither of those after just a few minutes.

"Why'd you stop?" Angelus teased into her ears as he brought her head back, cradling it on his shoulder. Her eyes were wide with fear and anguish, but were silently brilliant, her soul vacated by virtue of death. But that didn't stop Angelus from splitting her dress at one seam so it would swing open like a door to her chest.

Angelus regretted killing her at that moment. Her breasts which still stood firm and natural didn't heave or quiver as he would have preferred. But he had a solution for that. Her body made a horrid sound against the piano keys as it landed with a thud. Angelus balanced her so that she wouldn't slide off of the instrument.

Once she was securely in place, he proceeded to rip away each garment as though she was alive. He carefully slit away at the fabrics without ruining the integrity of the outfit. He unwrapped her like a present, slowly and maliciously. All of the gore of a shocked death fell away with her bra and panties, leaving only a naked, young corpse for Angelus to play with.

He made her breasts pump against his body. He loved the feeling of silk and leather against his own skin, so he didn't bother to disrobe before unzipping and ramming himself into her cooling vagina. He imagined her squirms, the screams of pain with an undercurrent of pleasure. Oh yes, he could do things she would hate herself for. But she would beg for more.

As Angelus felt himself come close to rupture, he moved slowly, almost stock still inside. His own pre-cum slickened her passage, making his knees go weak as he virtually fucked himself with another person's hole. He gave one last might thrust before his cum shot deep inside her deadened womb.

There was a clap from another room. Lucifer entered slowly, almost as if the entire place were sacred. Angelus snorted as he picked up her dress to wipe his member off, blood and semen dangling from the erect wood.

"Bravo, Angelus."

Angelus snorted. "I don't play for an audience. What do you want?"

"You know who I am?"

Angelus crooked a brow. "Please, you're the guy my goody two-shoes other half nearly destroyed when the Powers pulled him out of hell."

Lucifer slowly circled the piano, finger tracing absent dust. One hand was casually propped in a pocket as he strolled. He came to her body, shredded with Angelus' lust and left to rot atop her own clothing. "I admire your style, Angelus."

Angelus blinked. "You came all the way to tell me that?"

"Not exactly," Lucifer winked with a smile and casually crossed his arms. "I've come with a proposition for you."

"I gave up my soul long ago. You think I've got anything you need?"

Lucifer shrugged. "I was always a man with an eye for a bargain. Its actually not you I'm concerned with in this case. Its someone you've become... enamored with."

"The two brothers and the angel?" Angelus asked without a hint of surprise in his voice.

"Yeah. You see, these guys are pretty instrumental in saving the world and you have quite a history of wanting to..."

Angelus put out his hand to stop Lucifer. "Wait a minute. You're asking for a flunky, an enforcer. I ain't biting, Big Red."

"I'll sweeten the pot."

"There's nothing you can say."

Lucifer sighed, taking a moment for dramatic effect and picking with his vessel's fingernails. "Now, now Angelus. You've got to be a team player. You've as much reason to want this Dean guy dead as I do."

"Dead? Who says I want him dead?"

"My mistake then," Lucifer lied as he rested across the piano, "I thought you wanted the dark twin of the Amara gem."

"Its a myth."

"A myth that he's holding back from you," Lucifer added his hands for emphasis. "And, I'll even let you mess with the one you've already captured. We don't even have to have him as part of the deal."

"How generous..."

Lucifer furrowed his brow. "Angelus, I know that you hate order and good as much as I could, if I had ever taken human form. I'm here today as an equal to you, simply asking for your assistance. I'm offering more than you know."

Angelus stroked one key, letting a foul note hit the air. "Fine. I'll do it. But lets not fool ourselves and make this a regular thing."

Lucifer beamed before disappearing in a wisp of black smoke. "You're doing the right thing, Angelus. Its for the greater good."

Angelus merely shrugged at the exit. He let silence engulf the space before he picked the woman up from her place, bent over on the floor. Looking into her eyes, he saw only his only reflection in the dead brown orbs. He smiled to himself, laying the woman across the piano bench. He undressed slowly, his entire body slackening of its worry over Dean Winchester.

He grabbed for his spent member and he began to stroke slowly, hissing inbetween breaths as images flashed in his eyes, always in the reflection of the dead girl. Once he was hard, he picked up the woman from the piano bench and cemented their bodies together until he could feel the stickiness inside her vagina that he had left.

With her stationed in his lap, Angelus reached out with her fingers over his own and proceeded to try and copy what she had played. But he could only hit sour notes. He stopped, letting her hands fall to her side and then her body peel away from his own, her face hitting with a thud.

He placed his elbows on top keys after shutting the piano lid and he thought about Dean Winchester. He was important enough that Lucifer had tried to put Angelus on his payroll. Angelus snorted at the idea. He was master of a court! Nobody would give him orders like hired help in a bad detective movie. What he needed to do was to step up his torture until Dean came, begging for the pain to end. He would give information, hoping it would be enough to spare them all. And then he would die. Or maybe he'd be turned and left to fend for himself in the sun.

Angelus hadn't decided which was a better punishment.