Willow calmly closed her door, calmly walked to her mirror, and very, very calmly--
Freaked the hell out.
Angel. Angel, in other room, not just Angel in other room, but Angel in OTHER room, waiting for--I can do this. I can do this. I Can. Do this. This. Do. I.
"Crap."
Willow took a deep breath and set to dressing, knowing perfectly well that this wasn't proper behavior. For a dominatrix, that is. The club scene was easy enough--those people weren't newbies. They knew what they wanted, they told you, and most of them were regulars. Working in the private sector put more responsibilities in her hands. It was her job to find out what the client wanted, to talk to them, get inside their heads. You never just say, hey, get in there and I'm going to beat the crap out of you. Never.
Willow's conscience was trying to wrap her mind around a new concept. Sure, she *could* conduct herself professionally, but Angel had just given her the chance to give him a taste of his own medicine. Who is Willow Rosenberg to refuse a gift?
********
It says something about God's sense of humor that deep introspection usually happens during extremely embarassing moments when you're in no mood to get anything out of them. Angel had briefly wondered about the fantastic nature of the universe, how small it was, and how a place so goddamned strange seemed to be written according to a plan, if a twisted one.
Take now, for instance. Standing naked as the day he was born in the middle of a place full of devices whose various uses he wasn't sure he needed to know. Wanted to know. Or did he?
He was like a cat who'd never had a bowl of milk. He'd been told all his life that it was natural, fun even, for vampires to engage in bloodplay.--Would there be bloodplay? Hmm.--Yet there was a part of him that was skeptical. Those old memories gave him no amount of pleasure... brutalizing another human being, another vampire... It was fun then, but that was Angelus.
Angel told himself he was doing it for Willow. She would see how silly the whole thing was, talk things out with him--
But what if she didn't? What if she started whatever it was he'd agreed to--start, and they did it, and he hated it and she sent him packing? What if she threw him out before she started? What if she disappeared again? What if he just picked her up, threw her over his shoulder and carried her off to the bedroom? ...What if he liked it?
"Close your eyes." His breath stopped. She'd honestly caught off him off guard. He shut his eyes tightly, forcing his hands to relax from their clenched positions. Vampires can see well in the dark, but nothing can see with it's eyes closed. Angel could smell her, hear her soft footsteps against the floor. She was circling him like a predator, her scent sending the musk of adrenaline wafting over him. He shuddered.
"Hands behind your back."
Angel waited for her to do something, anything. His ears perked at a clanging from one corner. "No peeking." He squeezed his eyes tighter in response, determined to play along with this to the best of his ability. Angel felt something soft circle both his wrists. His fingers flexed involuntarily, lightly grazing the soft flesh of Willow's wrists.
Smack! He took a step forward with the force of the blow, his right side smarting for a few moments. Willow's breath was in his ear. "Did I give you permission for that?" Angel shook his head no. It was answered with another smack, this one across his shoulder blades. The stinging was brief this time.
"No, ma'am." He was very tempted to test the material around his wrists. Was he bound? Another blow fell on his stomach. He winced slightly, but stood tall.
He heard Willow cluck her tongue. "I think I'm going to need something bigger."
Bigger? Angel could feel the slashes healing. Welts would disappear very quickly on a vampire, especially since he'd just fed. He heard her step to the edge of the room once again, and pulled his wrist restraints experimentally. They jingled softly, as if attached to chains.
"Curiosity killed the cat." Came Willow's lilting voice. Angel heard again the sound of clanking. The cuffs pulled his arms tightly into the air, forcing the vampire to dance on tiptoe. They slackened a bit, setting him just barely back onto his feet. "That's much better. You can open your eyes now."
Angel blinked his eyes open hesitantly. She was behind him. His breath caught as he felt her body heat radiating from inches away.
"I have say, Angel, Bravo. The performance so far has been wonderful. So in control, so penitant." He felt gloved fingers dig into his lower back, rubbing lazy circles in his flesh. What was she doing? "So..." Her fingers dug further. "In control. The father figure, always looking out for his little children. Protective." Gooseflesh raised on his arms as her fingers pulled away. The waiting was worse than anything. There was a snapping sound. Her gloves. She was pulling off her gloves.
Willow tossed the scraps of material aside, baring red-painted fingernails to the air. This session wasn't about pleasing someone, about living up to their wants. She had free reign and he wouldn't complain. Not yet, anyway. Willow was intimately acquainted with the darkness in herself. It was time Angel got to know his. "Tell me... Are you sorry?"
"What?" He sputtered, the feel of her fingernails against his flesh driving him to distraction. Willow lightly scratched the skin of his lower back, her hot breath landing in soft puffs between his shoulder blades.
"Are you sorry, Angel?" Willow purred, digging her sharp nails hard into his sides. It couldn't have hurt much, but she felt him flinch. "Answer me. Are you sorry?"
"For what?" He held his breath as his captor slinked her way into his field of vision. She was a siren, her red hair capping an ensemble that consisted of black leather. The black boots could've been leather, or maybe they were vinyl. They zipped all the way up to just above her knees, leaving him an unobstructed view of her thighs until the tops vanished under a short leather skirt that could barely be called even that. The boustier cinched her breasts together, showcasing the smooth expanse of ivory skin. She was holding something behind her back.
"For what?" Willow mimicked, sliding her way towards him. She was a hair's breadth away from him. "Oh, poor thing. For what, he wonders. Let's be adults about this, shall we?" He felt Willow lean against his chest, the leather sliding against his bare skin. He wanted to arch into her, moan, beg, but for now, Angel kept silent as death. "I have an idea. Punishment where punishment is due. Sound good?"
He didn't make a sound, nodding mutely. Her mouth was mesmerizing, her tongue--the darkness was causing an overload of his vampiric senses. He whimpered softly as she moved behind him again, hands straining at the cuffs. They were fixed firmly above his head.
"I don't think you heard a word I said. Let's start out slow..." Angel nearly shot into the air with the first flash of the flail against his ass. Maybe that wasn't so slow? Oh, bother." The witch cackled, fingering the small wounds. Her index finger swiped over them, bringing a taste of the vampire's blood to her lips. "You taste good, Angel."
That was all it took to send all the blood rushing to his groin, his iron-clad defense breached. Angel groaned at the thought of Willow drinking from him, pleasuring him, sinking fangs she didn't posess deep into his throat to claim him... His cock throbbed to attention. The vampire squeezed his eyes shut. Too far, too fast. "Willow, maybe I was too rash in coming here--" His abdominal muscles tightened in pain, the devilish little barbed toy leaving more than lashes as she struck him. Again. Again. Just when he thought she was finished, another lash would hit him. She varied force and location. Finally, Willow dropped the bloody toy at his feet, moving off to the side of the room he couldn't see. "Listen to me. Willow--"
She cut him off rather abruptly.
*****
Later.
Willow gripped the side of the rack, resting her pounding head against the cool metal surface. What had begun as an enjoyable form of payback was most definitely becoming Not. As much as she wanted to make him feel what she'd been feeling, she discovered she didn't want to hurt him. She wanted him to be embarassed, turned on, beg a little... And she had, for just a minute there, almost gotten his defenses down enough for him to enjoy himself. Instead, he'd been thrown. Probably didn't know what to expect and overreacted to his natural response, thinking of this as a wholly 'attack' experience. Angel was in the wrong frame of mind; all that ever stood between pleasure and pain. There was no pleasure in this now, not for either of them.
"Your own fault, Rosenberg." She muttered, shutting her eyes. She could hear snatches of his trying to pull against the restraints from across the room. "Not how you should've handled things at all." One of the first lessons she'd learned was not to let herself assume too much about anyone, even if they were a vampire. Each client was different. Some wanted violence, some wanted roleplay, some wanted...
Willow's headache subsided somewhat. Of course. She felt so stupid, letting her usual vampiric clients' behavior cloud her judgement. Whoever said a dominatrix had to use violence at all? Not that they couldn't work up to it, if things went well. The witch found herself growing wetter for the umpteenth time, forcing the erotic images out of the back of her head. Bad Willow.
*****
Angel opened his eyes, startled by Willow's sudden reappearance. He couldn't understand why she was into this sort of thing. It was horrid, violent, and very vampiric. Angelus would've loved it. Still, he deserved it. The vampire steadied himself for another onslaught as she approached.
His arms were suddenly loosed, sending the taller man sprawling forward with the sudden addition of his own upper body weight. His head swam.
"Get dressed." Willow gestured towards the door and his clothes that lay beyond. "Wait for me on the couch." She shook her head and walked out through a back exit, previously unseen.
End Part 20
Willow entered the air living room wearing the same silky dressing gown from earlier in the evening. She took a seat on the couch opposite. Angel stared at her with wary, coal-black eyes.
"What are we doing now?"
"We're doing what we should've done at the beginning." Willow put her hands in her lap sheepishly. "We're having the talk session."
Angel arched his brows in the 'explain, please' motion.
"It's where I actually behave the way I should have been behaving." She explained, taking a deep breath. Confession time. "That's not the way it's supposed to happen. I shouldn't have taken you in there, not having talked first. It's just--I was mad, and I assumed you would be into that because you were a vampire, okay, maybe I made a mistake--jumped the gun... a little. The point is, I acted out in a highly unprofessional way." Her eyes lowered. "And I'm sorry I hurt you. I didn't think it would turn out that way."
"It's all right." He rumbled quietly. His back was still tender; most of him was still tender. It was strange. A kind of sensory overload consumed him. He was very physically aware of himself. Yes, it stung, but in that dull way that promised it would soon subside. "I asked for it."
"No you didn't." Willow interjected, crossing her legs. "You came to me for..." She took another breath. "What it is I do, and I didn't ever listen to you. So." Willow tried her best not to fidget in front of Angel. Sometimes he had a way of staring that made her feel like she was back in high school. "Nothing leaves this apartment, Angel. You can go now? If you want--" She offered, quickly moving on, finding herself slightly queasy at the idea of Angel never being in her life again. Even when he'd seemed more evil than Angelus back in that house, even when she had looked over her shoulder every night coming home from work--it was oddly comforting. With Angel out there in the world in hot pursuit--she hadn't ever been alone. Not really. "But if you don't, we can try this the right way."
Angel seriously considered that door before turning back towards the redhead he'd pledged his heart to. He nodded warily.
"All right." She concealed a smile. He was staying. "Can I get you something to drink?"
"No."
"Blood? I have blood. I mean, not mine, in the fridge, cause my blood--" Stop. End babble.
"Thank you, no."
"Okay, then." Willow chirped, picking up a pillow and wrapping her arms around it, hugging it to her chest. "Tell me. What do you like when it comes to sex?"
Angel gaped. The doorway was looking better and better. "Willow... I can't--I can't talk to you about that."
"You just let me beat you naked. I mean, you were naked, I wasn't naked--" Stop being so nervous. Be professional. "You can talk to me about that."
"I wouldn't... know where to start."
"Well, let's go with something easy. Hair color?"
"What?"
"Every guy has a hair color preference. What's yours?"
Angel scratched his head. "Depends on the person."
"Huh. Good answer." She shrugged. "I have wigs, if you ever want to see something else. Are you into leather?" Willow watched as he lowered his gaze. He was practically sweating. "Angel." He looked up, quickening her heartbeat with his intensity. "You don't have to answer anything that makes you uncomfortable. Listen. I'm going to go open a bottle of champagne. Think about what you want to happen here. I know you know most of the rules... and I think--" She ventured, rising and heading for the kitchen,"--you'd have a much better time if you realized that this isn't about pain--although that can be a big part of the experience... you can get something out of it." Willow turned the lights down in the living room, leaving it in a soft glow from the standing lamps. She didn't want to see him leaving. She was afraid she'd run back out and try to make him stay. Willow paused at the doorway, calling back. "If you aren't here when I come back, I'll understand." She went into the kitchen.
Angel sat quietly, crossing his legs after a moment. He heard the soft sounds of dishes clinking, the refrigerator door opening... How was it humanly possible for anyone to be so fragile and yet so threatening? The vampire sighed softly. He had the distinct feeling that the evening would only get stranger. But he promised himself would stay, so he was going to stay.
He heard the distinct pop of a cork. Willow would be back any minute, wanting answers. Why did he want to be here? Because I love her and I want her back, any way I can have her. Even if it has to be this. All the others were far moved on. If he and Willow were stuck, then why couldn't they somehow be stuck together?
"Angel." He looked up, seeing her sillouhetted in the kitchen light.
"Yes?"
"You're still here." Willow said flatly, trying to suppress a smile.
Angel nodded, panicked at her reaction. What if she'd wanted him to go?
"I'm glad." She passed a flute to the vampire, filling it and then her own. She sat back on the couch, giving him plenty of room. "Where were we?"
*****
The room was beginning to be edged by the hazy glow of champagne. Willow noticed how much the darkness helped loosen him up. She was struck by the urge to wrap herself tightly in the man's arms. They'd begun talking more than an hour ago. Only a few questions had prompted an outpouring of a life's history that had always needed to be told. They hadn't even gotten to Buffy yet. Willow imagined she was probably chapter twenty thousand.
He'd first talked about Spike and Dru... probably because she knew them, but soon he'd moved back, talking about his own sire.
"Darla was... I couldn't even tell you what Darla was to me." He didn't have to say it. Willow had seen enough children with sires to know of the unspoken connection they had. "When I was with her, I never even thought about not being with her. When I was away, all I thought about was getting back to her. She was incredible." Angel poured himself another glass of champagne. It didn't affect him too much, but it helped him concentrate. "It was never like that with Drusilla. Or Spike." He tried to picture the younger vampires, back when Angelus had first turned them. "...Or maybe it was."
He caught Willow stifling a yawn out of the corner of one eye. "Are you tired?"
The redhead nodded after a moment. "I've had a long day. But this was... nice."
"I'll... leave you to b--sleep." Nothing even resembling innuendo. He was on his feet with bag in hand quicker than Willow could blink.
"Angel!" He whirled, facing her. She gripped the glass tightly. "I'd like to... get a second chance at a first impression. Are you free tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow..." Angel's face clouded unreadably. "I have to work. It's going to be a late night. Spike's been wreaking havoc..." He sighed. "I should be out there looking for him right now--" He risked a partial smile. "But I missed you."
"You missed me..?" Willow fingered the edge of her glass, not daring to look up.
"Ah, anyway--" The vampire turned towards the door. Maybe she was never going to be all those things he wished she would be for him. Maybe this was hopeless. "I guess I'll give you a call?"
A call? Willow's pride took a left hook to the jaw. "Oh. Well. Sure." She put her glass down, afraid she'd drop it. "Look, Angel. I understand if you don't want to do this again, that's fine, but tell me if you don't want to see me, don't make me wait by the phone--"
"Don't want to see you?" He cried, whirling on her. "I've tried to see you for the past--God only knows how long! I've been going crazy trying to see you! I've been calling Buffy trying to get your phone number. I've been hanging out on the subway and at the coffeehouse on my nights off--trying to see you." Angel became aware of his grip on her forearms. He relaxed his hands, afraid of hurting her, but she didn't pull away. "I bailed you out of prison because I wanted to see you so badly..." He trailed off. "I *Badly* wanted to see you. Badly. I still want to see you."
He searched her face for some sign, going on when he found none. "Couldn't we go back to the way it used to be? Before--all that. Meet for coffee, watch movies, at least go back to being friends? I can live with just friends--I wouldn't try to interfere or tell you what to do..." He pleaded desperately with her. "I came here tonight because I would agree to anything to see you again. I--Willow--I need you in my life. Please. You can't shut me out." Angel shut his mouth, surprised at his revelation. The months between had been spent in denial. Each call to Buffy, all the public loitering. I'm such a fool, he thought. "Willow?"
"...I think you should go." Tears were pooling at the corners of her eyes.
He couldn't go now. Not after that. The vampire pressed his advantage. "But you don't want me to. You need me like I need you. All you have to do is say it, Willow. Say it and I'm yours."
"Angel." Willow whispered, closing her eyes. "You're hurting me."
Angel became acutely aware of his hands tightened around her wrists. His fingernails were cutting into his skin. The faint scent of blood wafted upward. "Oh, God." He let her go, backing away hurriedly. "I'm so sorry, Willow. I'm sorry."
When she opened her eyes, he was gone. She glanced at her wrists, his fingernails having left marks. "Wow." She sucked in a breath.
******
"Girl, there is something goin' on with you." Sheila swung his/her legs over the barstool, hopping up next to the red-headed dom.
"Why do you say that?" Willow was nursing a rum and coke. With cherries. Several patrons were watching in rapt attention as she sucked the red fruit off their stems... very slowly.
"Because you never take your breaks out here." The drag queen's eyes widened. "You met a man."
"Nope." Willow grinned, shaking her head.
"It's a man. There's a man involved. Trust me, sweetie, I know when it's a man so if it's a man, then you best tell me it's a man."
"He's an old..." Willow sucked at another cherry. Down the bar, a man swooned. "Friend, I guess?"
"It's a man!" Sheila warbled. The younger girl's face fell. "What's wrong, honey?"
"I kind of gave him the brush off."
Sheila stared. "Why!"
"Got scared. I stayed up all night, thinking about it." Willow smiled softly. "Won't happen again."
"What, last night?"
"No..." Willow plucked another cherry from the glass. They were the maraschino kind. Her tongue darted out, pulling the bright fruit into her mouth. "Scared. I'm tired of being afraid all the time. It's just so hard... putting your heart up on the chopping block. Yet, if I don't, I know I'll regret it."
"Well--Carpe Diem, baby."
Willow's eyes flashed. She blushed. "Thanks."
*****
Officer Buffy Summers kicked off her shoes, dead tired from the day's work and slaying. She was in a bit of a quandry (to borrow a Gilesean phrase) about how to continue patrol. Patrolling in uniform gave her an all-access pass to certain areas of the city, but fellow officers were starting to get suspicious of a cop walking the beat around a graveyard. Of course, if anyone brought it up, all she had to say was:
"You do know where we live, don't you?" But she couldn't keep it up anymore. Slayer Cop was too gung ho an attitude to live by every day. Her mind strayed to Willow and Angel in New York. They both called regularly now, but had been distant for a few days.
Her phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Buffy?"
"Hey, Willow."
"Geez, you sound tired."
"Chasing a Kreblic demon through the public library during kiddie story hour, with Giles limping behind me. He still refuses to get his leg checked. I think he broke his hip and is just terrified of getting old."
"Oh, he's not that old."
"Getting there. But we aren't talking about Giles. Let's talk about you."
"..."
"Will-oh."
"I saw Angel last night."
"You saw Angel?! What happened?"
"Uh... alot."
"Start at the beginning! And when you come to the end, stop. Oh shit, I have a beep. Hang on. ...Hello?"
"Buffy?"
"Angel."
"This a bad time?"
"No-no, not at all. I was just... could you hang on for a second?"
"Sure."
"...Willow?"
"Yeah?"
"What the hell happened?"
"Who said anything happened?"
"I have a sixth sense about these kind of things."
"Well... He made an appointment and kinda surprised me. I never should have showed him where I lived, but he bailed me out so I was feeling magnanimous."
"Whoa--bailed you out?"
"Uh--figure of speech. He bailed me out of a jam."
"Were you in a fight?"
"Ah..."
"Hang on Willow." Click. "Angel?"
"Yeah?"
"What happened last night?"
"Who told you anything happened last night?"
"My spies. Willow, you idiot. What did you do?"
"...Told her I wanted to..."
"Wanted to what?"
"Wanted to be in her life. Even as friends."
"Oh. Is that it?"
"I think I might have scared her again."
"Angel, hang on." Click. "Willow? Are you scared of Angel?"
"No. I mean, I was, for awhile, but--where did that come from?"
"Just wondering. So what's the deal? You going to see him again?"
"I can't avoid Angel. The man can leap a subway platform."
"...I won't ask. But are you going to, you know, see him?"
"I don't know. Every time I'm around him, he gets crazy."
"Has he killed your fish again?"
"Buffy."
"It was a joke. Hang on. Angel?"
"Still here."
"Stop acting crazy. I don't know what happened last night, but she's willing to let it slide."
"How do you--"
"Hang on. Willow?"
"What's with the putting me on hold?"
"Nevermind. Do you or do you not want to date Angel?"
"...Buffy."
"Okay, would it be worse if he were always around or never around."
"...Never around. I like him, Buffy, I just don't know--"
"Willow, hang on. Angel?"
"Still. Here."
"She likes you. Are you free tomorrow night?"
"I can make tomorrow night free."
"Ooh, good answer. Hang on."
"Buffy?"
"Sorry, thinking a second. Are you free tomorrow?"
"...Yes. Why?"
"Because you're going to go out on a date."
"What?"
"With Angel. Do you like Italian food? Cancel that, I know what you like."
"Buffy--!"
"Hold on. Angel?"
"This is ridiculous. Who's on the other line?"
"Here's the deal. You're taking her to dinner tomorrow night. A fancy Italian place, I don't care where it is. Don't pick her up, meet her there so she won't feel threatened."
"We're talking about Willow?"
"Duh, catch up. Then take her to a movie."
"Which movie?"
"Who am I, your matchmaker? Figure it out yourself. But nothing with action in it, and nothing steamy. Romantic comedy time. Hang on. Willow?"
"What's going on?"
"Angel's on the other line. You guys are having dinner and seeing a movie tomorrow."
"Buffy, I didn't ask you--"
"To what, arrange things? Please. You guys are practically begging me to play Dolly Levi. Hang on. Angel, where are you going to meet her?"
"Uhm... Mariana's."
"Is it fancy?"
"It's not casual, but it isn't formal."
"Great, perfect. Eight o'clock. What are you going to see?"
"I don't know. What's playing?"
"Anything with Meg Ryan or Sandra Bullock is a good one."
"Okay."
"Cool. Hold on. Wills? Eight o'clock, Mariana's. He'll meet you. Dress sexy."
"He said to dress sexy?!"
"No, that's a little tip from me to you. Now get the hell off my phone. I do have an actual life."
"Love you Buffy."
"I know. Angel? Mariana's, eight o'clock. She'll be there. Dress sexy."
"Dress sexy..?"
"Trust me. Dress sexy. Have a great time, kiss her good night on the lips--but only once, and don't do more than hand-hold in the theatre. You guys go rushing into things and then don't talk for six months, except you do talk, you just make me your messenger--and frankly I am sick of it."
"Anything else?"
"Don't screw up this time. You guys make me insane."
"Bye Buffy. Thanks."
"I know, I know. Bye. Jesus Christ, another beep..."
"Hey."
"Hey, Xander. Good news. Willow and Angel are finally going to hook up."
"Bout damn time."
End Part 21
Mariana's was a cute place. Translation: small but not run down. The waiters actually seemed to be Italian, and the ones of questionable descent had the sense to serve the back tables. Candles in red holders let to the ambiance already created by the low lighting.
Angel breathed a sigh of relief. He'd overheard the name from his secretary, blurting it out before he'd even been there. It was perfect. Romantic--yet casual. The vampire strolled through the archway. "Ahh... Rosenberg?" The head waiter checked the book of reservations.
>From the back of the restaurant, he saw a hand wave. Willow was already there. Angel checked his watch. Nope. He was even fifteen minutes early. He threaded his way between tables, smiling softly as Willow came clearly into view.
He was aware that the booth was dark, but this made little difference to his vampiric senses. Willow looked gorgeous. He wondered how she was able to transform so completely. Her makeup was light and flattering, the scent of cherry lip gloss catching his peaked sense of smell. His smile grew slightly. He'd never smelled it before. She'd worn it for tonight.
Her dress... wow. Throw catsuits out the window. The soft green material clung to the swell of her breasts, the cut showcasing her delicate collarbone and throat. He was only sorry she wasn't standing, so he could fully appreciate the view.
"Willow. You look great."
"Thanks." She blushed, chastizing herself a little bit. She'd seen him a hundred times. Was this a romantic date? Was this a friendly date? Not that the vampire didn't look great. She caught a whiff of cologne, something like Old Spice but probably more expensive. Angel had money, just the kind no one had ever heard of since the seventeen hundreds. He had on a white button-down shirt under a grey sweater. On anyone else it would've looked Mr. Rogers-y. On Angel---ouch. The black slacks? Oouuch. "You--look good too."
"Thanks. I was trying to be... classier than the usual duster and jeans."
"You're plenty classy." Angel watched a hint of pink spread through her cheeks. God, she was beautiful. "I mean--you look fine, regularly."
"Thank you."
Willow stared out at the other patrons, the weight of his full gaze too needy to bear in silence. A sudden thought brought her back. "Oh. Are you hungry? It just--occured to me that you don't eat this sort of food and all."
"I'm good. And anyway, I like to save room for popcorn."
Willow stifled a giggle, then gave into the urge to laugh. It was a throaty sound that positively gave Angel goosebumps. He deadpanned into his usual serious face.
"What? Don't go thinking we're seeing a movie without popcorn."
******
"Large popcorn. And a box of milk duds."
"Butter?" Chirped the concessions clerk.
"You have to ask?" Willow suppressed a laugh as Angel finished his order. "What?" He asked, concerned.
"...You're funny." She finally said, blushing. Willow grabbed the box of Milk Duds off the counter, silently studying him as he paid the man and accepted a huge cardboard tub of popcorn.
"Ready?" He held the popcorn in the crook of one elbow, offering her the other. Willow hesitated only for a split-second, resting her hand on his forearm. "Does this make you uncomfortable?" He asked as they moved down the long hallway. "Only it's how they used to escort ladies when I was growing up."
"I'm hardly a lady."
"...You're a lady." He replied softly, more to himself than her. They passed into a darkened theatre, taking seats near the middle. Angel risked a glance at his watch. They had just five minutes until the movie started.
"Is this one any good? I haven't read the reviews."
"...Meg Ryan's in it." Angel supplied weakily, relieved when that seemed to satisfy her. "Popcorn?" They both looked up as the lights dimmed, exchanged badly-doctored nervous smiles, and sat back. Straight ahead, eyes on the screen. Straight ahead. Eyes on the screen. Okay, one peek.
Out of the corner of one eye, Angel watched Willow watch the movie. His heightened senses let him see her face clearly, emotions playing on it like the ripples on water. She was absorbed, inhaling her Milk Duds within the first twenty minutes. He casually scooted the popcorn bag closer, grinning as she took the bait. Perfect. The vampire waited until her hand drifted over for a few more kernels and--pow!--accidentally brushed his fingertips against hers.
Willow stiffened as if charged by an electric shock. Her fingertips flitted over his briefly, fumbling for and bringing a piece of buttered popcorn to her lips. Angel hadn't moved a muscle. He was playing with her. The hacker reached back to the bag, running into cool skin. She didn't look away from the mundane movie, tracing the life line on Angel's palm with her ring finger.
The projectionist could've had a heart attack and stopped the movie at this point; they wouldn't have noticed. Both stared at a screen, faintly hearing words that seemed like garbled swahili, totally fixed on their senses of touch.
Willow's ring finger traveled up the gentle curve of his palm, gliding over his index finger. It arched up, the tip chasing hers as it escaped. Angel peeked at her. Her hand had returned to her lap. He covered, taking a piece of popcorn, chewing it. The popcorn tasted like cardboard.
The vampire watched her hand return to the bag. It lingered there. He turned his eyes back to the screen, breath catching in his throat as his fingers once again encountered hers. God, she was warm. And soft. Softer than his dreams. His fingers slid over the back of her hand, moving to thread themselves with hers. His thumb caressed the soft web of skin between her thumb and forefinger before it pushed them gently apart, moving to explore the surface beyond. He wanted to drink in every possible facet of the woman sitting next to him.
Willow felt a shiver run through her as his fingers massaged, pressed, and pulled. Could you feel this good from a simple touch of hands? Angel was curling her toes and he hadn't even kissed her yet. Why doesn't he kiss me? She glanced quickly at Angel. He was stalwartly looking ahead. The redhead sniffed slightly. Two could play at this game.
She sighed audibly. Angel glanced over, his thumb still lazily tracing the curvature of her palm. He blinked, catching himself before he spat popcorn all over the people in front of them.
Willow reclined, slouching lower in the chair. Her legs were uncrossed and set apart, the dress riding up to reveal more of her thighs. Her left hand was tracing the edge of her neckline, plucking gently at front snaps he hadn't seen. It was almost an absent gesture. One of the snaps gave way under her onslaught, the dress curling further open. Angel stiffened, facing foward again, this time with his eyes firmly on the seat next door.
He felt a gentle squeeze from her right hand still entwined with his. Buffy told him to keep it down to hand-holding only. Technically, he was only hand-holding, but Willow seemed intent on escalating matters. "...Willow." He whispered, his gentlemanly instincts in firm grip of his vocal chords. Other organs? Those were being controlled by different instincts. He watched another snap go the way of the wind. One more, he thought, or rather, mentally begged.
Through the fog of the dark movie theatre, Angel had a moment of clarity. Sitting next to him was this beautiful girl ready to accept his screwed-up love. Willow wasn't frightened of the demon; she knew his sordid past--she was part of it; she would take him and all the macabre baggage that came with it.
The problem was him. He wasn't accepting her. The vampire watched the third snap go. She wasn't afraid of him because he was stronger or was a physical threat. She cared about his opinion--that was what scared her. Angel said on many an occasion that he wouldn't judge--but he was worse than Mills Lane.
He'd come into her life and done nothing but try to 'save' her from herself. The days of shy, innocent Willow were gone. But the hacker was only a mask, as was the sorceress, as is the dominatrix--all a part of hugely wonderful and complex Willow; she had her very own intoxicating darkness that didn't have to be wrong. Angel resolved to never judge her again. He wanted her in the worst way--but also in the best. He wanted to keep her forever and ever. He leaned over.
"Willow..." He whispered huskily into her ear. She shivered. How could she have known this man for so long and not have taken advantage of him? Oh, right. She'd tried. "Do you want to get out of here?"
She turned her head, lips inches from his. If she kissed him now, she'd melt into the floor. "Your place or mine?"
"...I was thinking we could go get coffee; talk a little. Like we used to." Angel was enraptured by her lips. They were slightly parted; begging to be kissed. Even her breathing had sped up. Once again, he was left with the feeling that someone else was talking for him. He really wanted to take her right there in the theatre.
"I have a coffeemaker." Willow shot back. The popcorn bowl, having been knocked over during their games, no longer hindered their hands. She pulled his into her lap, warming his fingers with her heat. His hesitancy face broke out again. "We can talk later, as long as you want."
"...What about now?" Angel gulped. If that thin layer of material were gone, he'd be stroking her right now.
"Now isn't a good time for me."
"Why's that?"
"Because I really need you buried deep inside me."
End Part 22
No more was said.
There comes a point when words won't suffice; when all that matters is the other person in proximity. You find yourself wandering if it feels so good because it is so good, or if it feels good because you have no memory of how good it is supposed to feel. The wait had been far too long. Delicious anticipation wound itself around them, the walk to the car nearly too much for Willow, who felt her knees tremble each time his hand caressed an undiscovered part of her anatomy. His palm cupped the small of her back and all she could feel was the primal urge to leap on the silent vampire. All they were doing was getting into the car. How in the world was she expected to behave herself until they reached the apartment?
"Angel?" Her throaty voice cut into his thoughts. There was more pressure on him now than there had been -- ever. He wanted it to be perfect in every way, and had said more than one prayer to the powers that be in the hopes it went smoothly. He hadn't had a chance to test the steadfastness of the anchored soul, but Willow gave it to him and though he was wary of her addiction, he was confident in her occult abilities. The soul part only remotely nagged at him -- the real worry was... well, performance. The vampire... hadn't... in years, and although they say it's like riding a bicycle -- people have been known to fall off bicycles occasionally. He only hoped he remembered enough to compete with her seemingly vast experience. ...Exactly how vast was her experience? "Hmm?"
"Is your place closer than mine?" Willow couldn't take her eyes off his mouth. That mouth would be on her in less than a half hour. God, she hoped it wouldn't take that long.
"From here... closer by a couple of minutes."
"We'll go there." She nodded resolutely. "...Is that okay?"
"Yes! --I mean, yes." Angel corrected, absently rubbing small circles into her lower back.
"Good." She said breathlessly, contemplating the romantic value of taking him on the hood of the car. Spontaneous, yes, but not so much romantic. Willow groaned in frustration as he opened her door for her and carefully checked his side mirrors. When Angel drove, he would be ready to brave a hurricane. He pulled out into traffic.
"Come on, come on..." He heard her grumble, and smiled a little.
*****
He jammed the keys into the lock, opened the door, and scanned the area for any signs of danger. It was an unbreakable habit. Satisfied they were alone, Angel shucked his coat and turned to see Willow wander into his living room.
The apartment was dark, but darkness was it's element. It wouldn't look
right in full light. Leather couches never do. The furniture lurked. Angel
watched her silent appraisal of the room. She slid her purse off her shoulder
and onto the coffee table. Without turning, Willow moved forward, her coat
dropping onto the hall floor. Angel followed at a slight distance, watching
her step out of one shoe, then the other, leaving them like a trail of
breadcrumbs to the master
bedroom at the end of the hall. She padded barefoot out of his field
of vision, disappearing into the bedroom. With sudden urgency, Angel shot
forward, a vampiric bolt of lightning.
Willow could hardly see the bed in the thick darkness. It was probably better this way anyhow. She could be less inhibited than she would be facing him in broad daylight, not that she could face Angel in broad daylight, because he'd burn to a crisp and ashes aren't a good way to start the day-- "Ohh."
She gave the tiniest of strangled cries. His hands found her waist, drawing her back into his hard body as they ran upward, aggressively exploring the soft planes of her stomach, cupping the swell of her breasts as her nipples tightened in response to the pressure between her legs. She leaned back, face tilting up to the darkness. She was rewarded with a chaste kiss on the cheek. His hands pressed downward, leaving her tight chest, staking sole claim to her navel. Willow arched hungrily up into his hands, mewling as he came in contact with her swollen flesh, sensing through the deep haze of her arousal how gentle, almost hesitant, Angel was being.
Her arms snaked up, almost of their own accord, pulling his mouth down to claim hers as she felt his right hand cup her throbbing sex through her skirt. Willow ground against his hand, desperately needing more friction. She mewled in time to the soft stroking of his fingers, tearing her lips from his long enough to turn around and once again launch herself into his savage kisses.
Angel's tongue stroked hers, the rest of his body hopelessly lost in the sensation of being in such intimate contact with someone so warm. His erection was already straining against the fabric of his slacks. The second he'd scented her arousal on the ride over, Angel had been hard as rock. He was glad he didn't need to breathe; Willow's mouth nibbled and teased expertly. Her hands were buried in his hair, her head tilted up to reach his mouth. Angel wanted her closer, close as he could get her. He stroked his hands down over her thighs, caressing the backs of them. The vampire pulled her upward, their mouths never seperating as he settled her on his hips, her legs wrapping around his midsection like a vise. Angel held her against him, neither fully aware of the other's unconscious thrusting motions.
The vampire took a step forward, lowering Willow down onto the edge of his bed, the kisses halted for the moment. There was a brief silence; the two of them panting like animals in heat, which was mostly an accurate description.
"You can see in the dark..?" Willow asked, leaning back.
"Yes." Came his rumbling voice.
The redhead slid her fingertips along the dress' neckline, dipping them
in and tugging the sleeves down. Willow unfastened the first button on
her dress, her legs squeezing together tightly to alleviate the pressure.
She felt his hands on her knees, pushing them apart. Angel's eyes shone
imperceptibly in the dark, making Willow's breath catch in her throat.
His hands took over where hers began, unfastening button after button,
stopping to taste the newly exposed
flesh with slow kisses and lazy swipes of his tongue.
But Willow wasn't an inactive participant. She pulled the sweater over his head quickly and made short work of the white shirt, shoving it from his broad shoulders as if it were offensive. He recaptured her attention when his tongue traced the flat of her stomach just below her bellybutton. Willow shrugged the dress off her shoulders, swiftly moving to press her hands against the corded muscles of Angel's back, her nails instinctively digging in.
He urged her hips upward, working her panties down her thighs and off. The scent of her arousal was thick in the air. Angel drank in her smell, memorizing it for a colder night. A large part of him was convinced she would be gone in the morning, gone forever. Tonight was a last illusion.
"Where are you?" His eyes shot to hers. Willow looked at him questioningly. She was mostly naked about three seconds from screaming in frustration.
"Right here. Forever." The vampire took her mouth in a desperate kiss, using every movement to claim her as his own. His tongue snaked inside, thrusting gently against hers. His hands stroked the inside of her thighs gently, opening her legs to his assault. Angel pulled her closer with his left arm while his right thumb trailed to her folds, parting them and dipping into her wetness. He smirked against her lips as he felt her quick intake of breath.
Willow buried her hands in his soft hair, hanging on for dear life as his thumb found and circled her clit, steadily increasing the pressure and tempo until her jaws clenched and breathing became more difficult. God, she was so ready for him. She clamped her eyes shut, imagining how in a few moments he'd finally be inside her.
Angel kissed her neck softly, having the most wonderful time watching the tortured expressions on her face. He was amazed at how quiet she was. Her entire body seemed to be focused, her hips pulsing against his hand. Slowly he let off on the pressure, teasing her with feather-light touches. Willow arched up into his fingers, her lips parting silently. He took the opportunity to nibble her bottom lip, teasing and tugging.
"Angel..." She moaned, her eyes closed tightly. "Please..." His touch was driving her crazy with need, building her desire, but he wasn't giving her enough friction to do any good.
"Please what?" He placed a kiss on each of her fluttering eyelids, his fingers still lazily circling her clit.
"Harder--harder. Please." She begged. A shiver ran down his spine as he pictured her writhing above him, screaming those words. He took pity on his redhead. Manipulating her quickly, he drove her over the edge.
Willow could make no sound -- she couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't speak. She hadn't been with someone she cared for in years. And back then, she knew little of technique. Now, older and wiser, Willow found herself at a higher crest than ever before. She came, and the world split apart. Her entire body shook with the spasms that rocked her core, fingers twisting involuntarily in Angel's hair, pulling his head to rest against her breasts. The wave of orgasm began to die, but the vampire pressed on, his gentle hands keeping her at the peak of ecstacy. She sucked in lungfuls of air, trying to keep up with the intensity. Finally, he began to let her descend, caressing her thighs while she gasped in wonderment at the talents of her lover, a truly beautiful man.
"Angel..." She breathed. His head was still cradled to her bare breasts. She released her hold on him.
"Yes?" The vampire sounded slightly pained.
As Willow's breathing slowed, she realized he hadn't made any move to let her go. "That was... That was..." She swallowed, feeling light-headed. "Incredible."
"I'm glad." They rested there a few moments. Willow felt almost at peace, if not for the ache that was returning with a vengeance.
"Angel?" She asked, her voice husky. Her fingers ran through his hair.
"We're not finished y... oh." As she stroked his hair, she brushed the
edge of his forehead...and what could only be his game face. She blushed
slightly, not embarassed to be with him, but embarassed that she'd discovered
what he was
hiding. "You know... I don't care what you look like. You could be...
a slime demon. I wouldn't care."
His voice was dry. "A slime demon would drench you with ectoplasm every time you kissed him." The vampire looked up, unable to hide a glint of humor in his eyes.
Willow smiled, tossing back her hair. "Then why don't we find out how you stack up?"
She leaned forward, her lips meeting his gently. He stayed perfectly still, letting her take the initiative. Willow kept her eyes closed, trying to give him some privacy. Not like she could see much in the dark anyway. But as she deepened the kiss, snaking her tongue against his teeth, she felt his fangs. Her eyes went wide. Fangs! Fangs that weren't there ten minutes ago! She broke off abruptly, shuddering under the wave of arousal threatening to knock her over.
"Willow... what's wrong?"
"Well..." She paused, afraid of what she might blurt out. "You win against the slime demon." In the darkness, Willow made out a smile. She returned in kind, giving him the dopiest grin she could manage. "Angel!" She stopped. Years of being sexy for a living clamped down on her babbling instincts, but for once they refused to be silenced. "Angel!"
"What?" She reached out to stroke his ridges, her breath becoming ragged.
Willow gulped. "Bite me." He jerked in her arms, caught totally off guard. "Bite me, Angel. Please. Bite me. As hard as you can." The red-head tilted her head to one side, licking her lips. "Bite me!" She entreated, quivering.
"Willow...I don't want to hurt you!"
"God, Angel, please. Bite me. Bite me, make me yours. Fuck me." Her eyelids fluttered. She was trembling with need, her control tossed out the window. "Please, Angel. Please! I want to be nice for you!I do...but I'm not nice... you make me so... so goddamn crazy! I've wanted you so long, and now you're here, but I'm sick of you worrying that you're somehow going to offend me! I trust you, I'm not afraid of you, and I need you so bad it hurts." She licked her lips, leaning into him, her heavy breaths causing her hardened nipples to scrape against his chest. She offered her neck to him, moaning softly. "Bite me, Angel!"
The vampire gently pushed his witch backward, standing. He could see the instant rejection and confusion on her face. She was so beautiful. Angel placed the tip of his index finger underneath her chin, wordlessly tilting her face upward. He reverently brushed the hair away from her face, noting with pride she'd broken a sweat.
"Please, Angel!" She cried, her lips trembling. "Don't make me wait. Please."
"...You're the most beautiful creature on earth." He whispered, lifting her off the bed and into his arms easily. "Far be it for me to deny you anything." The vampire held her with one arm and pulled the covers back, laying her down with a large amount of satisfaction on his own bed. He quickly removed his slacks and underwear, pausing to gaze at her. Willow's lips were swollen, her breath came in gasps, and both her heartbeat and the heady scent of her arousal were proof of her excitement. Angel slid into his bed, pulling the satin sheet back over them. Supporting himself on his arms, he let his lower body cover the red-head's. As his cock made contact with her slick folds, the vampire groaned. He felt one of her tiny, hot hands encircle his width, caressing his hardness and guiding him into her depths.
"God, yes, Angel!" She keened in pleasure as he drove deeply into her core, losing all rational thought as he possesed her with long, hard strokes. Willow dug her fingernails into his back, hanging on for dear life. Still, she urged him, faster, marveling that he seemed to know exactly what she needed. It seemed uncanny... his rhythm was perfect, the way he moved against her.
"Willow! Willow! Willow!" Her name tumbled off his lips like a litany. She was so hot, so wet, so tight he could hardly stand it, wanting to let go everything and claim her, mark her as his own forever. His demon, carefully locked away, urged him onward, screaming at him to take her. Angel concentrated on his lover, knowing he wouldn't last much longer. He'd been hard for what seemed like hours... with no release.
"Harder, Angel, harder...fuck...harder!" She was almost there, thrusting desperately against him, and by the twisted expression on his face, her Angel was nearly there as well. "Angel! Angel!" She moaned, digging her nails into his back. Willow gasped in delight as his eyes opened, shining golden in the darkness. He hammered into her, setting every nerve ending on fire.
He was in shock. She'd drawn blood with her fingernails. He could feel the marks. Willow marked him. Every fiber of his being, vampire and otherwise, screamed one word: Mate. Angel groaned, the last walls of his defense stripped away. As he came, he sunk his fangs tenderly into Willow's neck. Angel was delighted to hear the sound of his mate's cry of ecstacy as she joined him a moment later. He lapped at the wound gently, draining only the tiniest amount of blood before collapsing exhaustedly next to her.
"...Angel..?"
"Yes?" He asked, bracing himself for whatever she said next. If she asked him to get out of her life, he would honor her wishes. His lover laughed softly, readjusting herself to rest on his chest. She snuggled down against him and smiled.
"Be here in the morning. No matter how much you think you shouldn't."
Angel smiled back, then reflected on this.
"Well, Willow! It is my house."
end part 23
THE END