E-MAIL: Ciderbreak@aol.com
SERIES: Story # 9
DISCLAIMER: Joss Whedon and the WB own all BTVS characters. No infringement implied.
DISTIBUTION: Charity, FoF, MY WEBSITE!
THANKS TO: Princess Daria, defender of the realm, for reminding me what I've already written and for Katie who lobbied so hard on the side of piercing.
WARNING: It starts getting all mushy. I hope enough time has passed that that could be believable.
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Angel watched Willow sleep in the early hours of dawn. She stayed on her side of the large bed, sprawled out on her stomach with one arm stretched underneath the pillow and the other bent with the fist near her mouth. Her t-shirt bunched around her breasts, revealing a swath of her smooth skin and the tattoo in the small of her back.
It was a black celtic knot, just like Angel envisioned, and it wasn't recent. He wondered where in the world she'd gotten it, and when. Had she always had it? Somehow, he figured not. The shy girl he met when Buffy was in high school would never have the temerity to get inked. The girl dating the werewolf… maybe. Maybe not.
Still, it was beautiful and it must have hurt like hell getting it at the base of her spine where all the nerve endings lived.
Angel dared reach out one finger to trace the outline of the knot. Willow shivered and immediately rolled over, flinging one arm out towards the wall and resting the other on her bare stomach. Angel smiled and moved a little closer, propping his arm up on one hand and studying her tight abdomen. She might look cute with a belly-button ring.
In the quiet dark apartment his thoughts ranged all over her body. Who gave her the first kiss? Who first uncovered any of this beauty? Who'd taken her virginity, Oz? And what was their love life like after that, did she give herself to him with reckless abandon? Had he taught her everything? Was she still in love with him? If he came back to claim her, would she want to go with him?
Willow awoke because Angel started growling unconsciously, deep rage in his eyes. She frowned up at him, groggy from sleep but knowing somehow that his thoughts were of her.
"Angel, what's wrong?" she said hoarsely, tugging down her t-shirt and pulling the covers up to her neck. Her voice was tentative and more vulnerable, sweet and sleepy.
"Nothing." Angel said sullenly, ashamed he'd woken her up. What was getting into him?! Willow was free to pursue anything she wanted in a 20 mile radius of his existence. If that was Oz, then so be it. He'd die before her, of course, an old, wrinkled man with no hair or teeth. Could she handle that? Would she still love him when she looked 19 and he looked like walking death?
"I doubt that," Willow smiled gently, closing her eyes. "I'll just lay here and you can talk to me."
"Are you in love with Oz?" Angel blurted out jealously.
"That's what you were thinking about? Oz?"
"He knew you first," Angel said softly. Willow blushed, not mistaking the meaning of the word "knew." Plus, Angel had eavesdropped on her little conversation with Amanda the night before. Maybe that's where this was all coming from. Maybe he was concerned.
"He was wonderful," Willow assured him. "I couldn't have asked for a better lover."
Angel nearly laughed at the green waves of jealousy that hit him. He was acting like such a guy! Double standard there. He wanted Willow to be chaste in the event he should ever decide to make love to her so he could be the first to teach her about pleasure. Yet he could go around with his incredibly long past sexual history, most notably Willow's best friend, and that was just fiiiiine. That standard didn't work so well in modern America when girls had so much control over these things. When Willow had control over these things, Angel corrected himself. The woman in his bed was just that- a woman, with all the complexities and quirks therein.
"If he came back would you go with him?"
"Can't go anywhere, Angel, you know that."
"But if he asked. If he wanted to get back together romantically and move here, would you?"
Willow didn't mention that she'd imagined that scenario a hundred different ways, especially on the nights when she was lonely and worked up with no warm Oz body beside her to give her satisfaction. The dreams always ended the same way. Oz got older, she stayed the same, and Angel lurked in the back of her thoughts like a huge dose of procrastination.
"I miss him," Willow said truthfully. "I miss that he loved me, how he loved me. But things between us could never work out now."
"They could for awhile."
Willow sighed heavily. There was no answer to that. Angel knew as well as she did the reasons it couldn't work. And the pain of Oz's desertion faded into a little gray mass in the bottom of her heart with all the other losses she endured, collected like pebbles on a grate.
"I like your tattoo," Angel said, changing the subject, his jealousy fading into the shadows.
"I got it with Doyle the night I broke down," Willow informed him. "I was pretty tanked. But I'm not sorry I got it." She stiffened at the hand that came to rest on her hip.
"Let me see again?"
Willow obediently rolled onto her stomach and shivered as Angel peeled up her t-shirt and tugged the waistband of her sweatpants down an inch. The touch wasn't sexual at all but my goodness, he certainly elicited a response from her long-unloved body when he began to trace the strands of the endless knot with one cool finger. Her breathing became shallow and she clenched the sheets in her hand, keeping her eyes closed, not wanting him to see how a simple touch affected her.
Angel, on the other hand, knew exactly what he was doing. He was beginning to love this little red-headed witch the PTB put in his life, and the guilt of betraying Buffy lessened daily. It would take a long time before he and Willow could truly be lovers without the past nipping at their heels and so he would bide his time, work hard getting her to trust him. He knew how touch affected her; she hadn't been hugged in weeks, much less caressed like this. He could hear her heart pounding, felt her tense muscles underneath his hand, which moved away from the design and slid up under her t-shirt to rub circles on her warm back.
"Mmm," Willow moaned, her body feeling like it melted into the mattress. Angel took that as a good sign and moved up on his knees, straddling her hips, pushing and kneading and massaging her back. Willow would have taken her shirt off to give him better access if Amanda hadn't woken up at that point and shuffled off to the bathroom. They both heard her behind the folding door that separated Angel's bed from the rest of the apartment and stilled.
"Forgot," Willow said with a sigh. Angel moved off her and eased out of bed. He pulled on pants and a shirt and tried to smooth down his hair.
"I liked watching you sleep," he said tenderly to diffuse her blush. "I liked touching you."
[ Hello to the honesty! ] Willow thought. Understatement.
"Dinner tonight," he reminded her happily.
"Okay."
Willow admired his backside as he walked away. It was too early to question those primal thoughts and anyway… she wasn't sure they were all wrong.