History fic for Whedonland
Prompt: Rewriting History--- Write a fic with whedon characters set in a time period other than their own.
Angelus raised his face to the moon and delicately sniffed the air. "Ah," he muttered, "I love the smell of gunpowder in the evening." In actuality, they were miles and weeks from the battlefield. But his centuries of basking in the midst of warfare had tuned those senses keenly. The metal tang of spilled blood, the scorch of burned flesh, the sweet scent of cries of pain….
An insistent chiming shook him out of his reverie, and, swinging his coat and lowering his head, he strode across the cobblestones to the steps of the theater, where a footman was ringing a bell. A half-head taller than most of the well-dressed throng headed for the entrance, he glanced momentarily at the marquee. "Our American Cousin," he murmured. "Sure and that's how we think of you, Mr. Lincoln." Slightly baring his teeth in anticipation, he moved with the crowd into Ford's Theater.
Angelus raised his face to the moon and delicately sniffed the air. "Ah," he muttered, "I love the smell of gunpowder in the evening." In actuality, they were miles and weeks from the battlefield. But his centuries of basking in the midst of warfare had tuned those senses keenly. The metal tang of spilled blood, the scorch of burned flesh, the sweet scent of cries of pain….
An insistent chiming shook him out of his reverie, and, swinging his coat and lowering his head, he strode across the cobblestones to the steps of the theater, where a footman was ringing a bell. A half-head taller than most of the well-dressed throng headed for the entrance, he glanced momentarily at the marquee. "Our American Cousin," he murmured. "Sure and that's how we think of you, Mr. Lincoln." Slightly baring his teeth in anticipation, he moved with the crowd into Ford's Theater.