RATING: NC-17
DISTRIBUTION: The New Place and anyone else that would want this thing.
FEEDBACK: Desperately need it, and please be honest. !
DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.
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"Willow..."
One word... one thought.
Angel remained on the hard, cold floor for several long, tortured minutes. He knew where he was... he knew what he was. And, even worse, he knew what he had been.
His memories had never left him, same as Angel's memories never left Angelus. Hell hadn't destroyed anything... Yes, it had been horrible, the worst thing imaginable multiplied by one hundred million.
But he hadn't forgotten anything.
"Willow..." The one word formed as a choked sob this time.
Eventually, he pulled his naked body off the floor, stumbling to his bedroom... Angelus's bedroom... and fell into a deep, dark sleep that lasted for days.
When he finally awoke, he dragged himself into the shower, scrubbing away dirt and grime collected during his years in Hell. He rubbed vigorously, violently, until he decided he was as clean as he was ever going to be.
"Willow..." he sighed, looking into the fog-covered mirror, not bothering to wipe it clean, knowing there would be no reflection behind the steam, as he shaved his face from memory, knowing every curve and indentation in his grim face.
He went into the closet... Angelus's closet... and found clothing for himself. Black leather pants, blood red velvet shirt.
He dressed silently before making his way to the garden. He needed to feed before finding her, before seeking out the redheaded witch.
He found some money, buried in the garden, exactly where Angelus had left it and made his way to Willy's. The shock on Willy's face was enough to give Angel the first chuckle he'd had since his return. He sated himself with several bags of Willy's finest before heading out the door, tossing a fifty on the counter.
"Nobody knows I'm back, Willy... Let's keep it that way..."
With that warning, he was gone.
He found her walking to the Bronze, alone.
"Willow..." he whispered, so low that she barely heard him.
She spun on her heels, peering into the dark searching for the voice that she had heard many times before in her dreams.
He stumbled towards her before stopping dead in his tracks upon seeing the look of fear on her face.
"Willow...?"
"Angelus..." she backed away.
He realized he was wearing the demon's clothes, and knew what she was thinking.
"No, Willow... Angel. Not Angelus."
"But... but how?" she gasped.
"How? You should know... you're the one that brought me back."
Willow was stunned, "But... but that spell didn't work... I did that days ago..."
"It did work, Willow... I've... I was... Hell was rough. I've been sleeping since I came back."
"Why aren't you with Buffy?"
"She's not the one responsible for this... you are. Why would I want to see her?"
"She's Buffy... I mean, she's your girlfriend and stuff. She was really upset when she had to send you to Hell, and now that you're back, you should be with her... I mean, I brought you back so you could be with her instead of standing out here in the middle of the street talking to me, because I'm a nobody, and, hey, I'm on my way to meet Buffy at the Bronze, so you should just come with me and then you can be with her..." Willow started to walk back down the street towards the Bronze, but Angel grabbed her arm.
"Willow, I don't want to go to the Bronze, and I don't want to see Buffy. I need to see you, and talk to you. Can we please go someplace where we can talk?"
The world began to spin and Willow felt her legs giving way. Angel scooped her into his strong arms before she hit the pavement.
When she awoke, she found herself at the mansion, stretched out on a long couch, a cold compress placed across her forehead. Angel was hovering around, pacing nervously.
"Willow?" he asked hesitantly, noticing her begin to stir on the couch.
"Wha-what happened?"
"You fainted. I'm sorry... I guess seeing me was a little too much for you," he knelt beside the couch, gingerly reaching out to touch her face.
She grasped his hand, holding it to her cheek.
"I'm so glad you're back. Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, Willow. Just fine, thanks to you."
The emotion of the evening overtook Willow as she began to quietly cry.
"Oh, Willow... please, don't cry... Shhh..."
He gathered her into his arms, settling back onto the couch with her, holding her tightly while she released her sobs.
"Willow, why'd you bring me back?"
"I told you," she sniffled, "F-for Buffy."
"You lie horribly."
"Angel, please... this is all too much..."
Angel sighed, brushing her hair away from her face.
"I'm sorry, Willow. You're right. It's just that since I came to here in the mansion, you're all I've been able to think about," he planted a light kiss on her forehead.
Willow's skin burned where he had kissed her and an unfamiliar ache began to pulse in the pit of her stomach. Unconsciously, she thrust herself again Angel, causing him to groan.
"What? Are you hurt, Angel?" she asked, alarmed.
Angel chuckled, "No, Willow, I'm not hurt."
"Then why...?"
"You moved."
"Huh?"
"You still don't get it, do you?"
The blank look on her face confirmed his suspicions, "Willow, I love you."
Willow shot out of his lap to stand in front of the fireplace, gripping the mantel for support.
"You don't love me... shut up..."
"Willow..." Angel jumped to grab her as she started to sway, afraid that she was going to faint again.
"I'm fine, Angel... I'm not going to pass out. Let me go."
"Willow, I do love you. I've loved you for well over a hundred years now."
"What are you talking about, Angel?"
"In Hell, Willow... I was in Hell for the earth equivalent of about 150 years... and I could see you, and hear you. It was part of my Hell... watching you all go on with your lives without me. Everyone except you. You never gave up, and you never quit trying to find a way to bring me back. I fell in love with you, Willow..."
"No, Angel, this is wrong... all wrong. You're just grateful, that's all."
"Why are you fighting this, Willow? I know you feel the same way."
"No... no, I don't."
"Willow, I know... you can't lie to me."
"So what if I do? It's still wrong."
"How can two people loving each other be wrong?"
"Don't you care about the people that would be hurt? What about Buffy?"
"Buffy? She's the one that sent me to Hell... and God knows she didn't have to. I've replayed that scene hundreds of times. All she had to do was cut my hand with the sword and throw it in the damn vortex, but that's not what she did. Willow, I really don't give a damn if she gets hurt or not."
"I do, Angel. She's my best friend..."
"If that's true, then she'd want you to be happy. If she cared about either of us, she would want us to be happy. Please, Willow. Don't turn me away."
"This is really bad, Angel... really, really bad."
"No, it's not. Willow, I've been waiting over a hundred years to tell you that I love you, and you brought me back from Hell so you could tell me the same thing. Now, we're here, and there's nothing standing in our way. I love you, Willow."
Willow's resolve weakened as his words sank in. He loved her. Despite her fears, the words were music to her ears. She had wanted him for so long, and now he was offering himself to her, heart, body and soul.
"I-I love you, too."
He crushed his lips against hers with an intensity that nearly blinded both of them.
"Oh, God, Angel... please," she moaned against his mouth.
Angel swept her into his arms and carried her to his bedroom. He had waited for this for far too long, and he wasn't going to stop now. He knew that Willow didn't want him to. He quickly divested her of her clothes before stripping himself, the buttons popping off his velvet shirt as he tore it away. He needed to be touching her. He couldn't stand the cold feeling of not having her in his arms when she was this close.
He joined her on the bed, covering her body with his as he nudged her knees apart with his.
"God, Willow, I love you so much," he murmured, planting butterfly kisses all over her face.
"Aren't you worried about the curse, Angel?" she asked.
Grinning at her, he answered, "I know you fixed that, too, Willow. I know that I can't lose my soul again, no matter how happy you make me."
He kissed his way down her body, nuzzling the pulse points on her throat, savoring the sensation of her blood rushing through her veins. He moved lower, cupping her round, soft breasts in his hands while gently rolling his tongue across her hardening nipples.
She ran her fingers through his stiff, beautiful locks of hair, moaning under his ministrations. His erection was pressing into her thigh, alerting her to his want... his need. She pulled his face back up to meet hers, thrusting her tongue into his mouth, indicating her hunger.
He rubbed his shaft against her core, teasing her.
"Angel, please," she begged, unfamiliar with the feelings coursing through her body.
He could deny his love no longer, positioning himself at her entrance. With a quick thrust, he buried himself inside her as she screamed his name.
He stilled, giving her body a chance to get used to his invasion. He sensed Willow begin to relax and began to rock against her body, slowly beginning his rhythm. After a few moments, Willow learned his cadence, joining him. Her heat enveloped his cold body as their pace quickened. Smothering her mouth with his own, he felt her body begin to quiver, knowing her climax was near.
Abandoning her mouth, he buried his lips against her ear, growling words of love and desire as she began her orgasm, clenching her walls around his cock, crying out with feelings she had never known existed.
Angel let go and began his furious assault on her body before his reaching his own orgasm, collapsing on top of her.
"Thank you, Willow," he whispered breathlessly.
"For what?" she asked, wrapping her arms around his body.
"Everything... for saving my soul... bringing me out of Hell... allowing me the incredible gift of being your first... and for loving me."
"I do love you... I know I shouldn't, but I can't stop..."
"Shhh... no guilt, Willow. I won't feel guilty for loving you, so please don't feel guilty for loving me."
She didn't feel guilty... she knew she should, but the feeling simply wasn't there. Love, warmth and contentment were all she felt. She knew that she had found her way home, that she would never leave his side, as he would never leave hers, and that the two lonely halves had finally become a whole.
The End