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Distribution: NHA, SoG, redsoulmates, Simple Majik, willsvamps, and anyone else I post to, all others just ask.
Summary: Willow is trying to deal with the news of having a `pseudo- soul' and Angel tries to help her. Heavy Angst.
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'A pseudo-soul,' Lorne had said. My personal magick mixed with the magick that gave Angel his soul, has given me an aura that acts as a soul. I know that news had made Angel happy. It should've made me happy too. So why did I cry and run in here? I'm in the bathroom for the second time today crying my eyes out. Talk about an emotional rollercoaster!
I don't really know how to take this news. It's not, hell, I don't know. I'm still crying. I look in the mirror. I don't know if it's a blessing or a curse that it is empty right now. I stare into the empty space in the mirror where my eyes should be. Would I be able to see my `soul' if I could look into my eyes? Can Angel see it when he looks? I'm afraid to ask.
I hear Angel come into the room. I really don't want to talk to him right now. I don't want to talk to anyone. This is all just too confusing. If I had a form of a soul then how could I have tried to go after that couple? What if Lorne is wrong about me?
Angel walks up to the bathroom door. I hear him hesitate, shifting from foot to foot. His apprehension is palpable. He clears his throat.
"Willow? Are you, well, do you need anything?" he asks, concern tinting his voice.
"Go away," I whisper through my tears. I like him, but what can he do for me? Nothing. No one can help me, yet again. I bet Angel hates me. It's bad enough I'm a vampire, now I'm not completely good. I've an evil side. If he would just leave me alone I'd go away. Leave LA, and him. He won't have to deal with me and what he did anymore.
"Willow, look, I'm sorry," Angel says. Why is he sorry? For making me? He probably wishes he had just let me die. Knowing Angel, that's exactly what he thinks.
If I look really hard into the mirror. I think I can see my tears trailing down my invisible face. In this mirror I almost don't exist. Could I actually look myself in the face if I could see me?
"Angel," I ask in as small voice, "when you look in the mirror, what do you see?"
"I, I don't see anything Willow, you know that. Can I at least come in?"
Such a small request, to come in. Do I want him here? Asking me questions I don't have the answers for. Does he know how much I care for him? Even, maybe, love him? Would he care if he knew? Who knows? I'm not Buffy after all. Just plain old Willow. Well, not plain anymore. I'm now magickal vampire Willow. And yet, that thought doesn't fill me with any joy. I sigh. Letting him come in couldn't hurt could it? I guess not. I unlock the door and let him in. I stay standing in front of the mirror, not looking at him. I feel him pass behind me to sit on the toilet, yet there's no reflection of him either. Good to know I'm not alone in that aspect. Although, I already knew that, I think I just wanted confirmation. Proof that I'm not the only one, that I'm not alone.
"So, how are you?" Angel asks lamely. I'll give him points for trying. Not many people would care how I feel.
"Do you actually care Angel?" I ask turning to him. My tears are in full view. His face softens at the site of me. Pity? I hope not, I couldn't stand it if he pitied me.
"Of course I care. How could you ask that?"
"It's just well, been a while since anyone truly cared about me. Since Tara…," I say trailing off. Fresh tears burn my eyes and I turn back to look in the mirror. It's easier to see nothing then to see the look on Angel's face. He's been through so much I don't know about. Yet, here he is setting aside the fact that his son just tried to kill him, just to make sure I'm alright. I let out a choked laugh at that thought. Angel must have taken it for a sob because he comes up behind me and puts his arms around my shoulders, hugging me close to him.
"Oh Willow, I'm so sorry. I know I've been saying that a lot lately. I just want you to understand," he says kissing the top of my head.
"Are you sorry you made me?" I ask. I have to know the answer. Even if I don't like it, I have to know. I don't what to have our relationship, or whatever we have, based on lies. Not again.
"That's hard to answer," Angel says on a sigh. "I don't want you dead, but if I had another option, I would not have made you. You deserve so much more then this, then the life I've given you. You're special, and precious, and mine." He nuzzles my cheek, neck, and ear. I lean into him, the touch of him. Comforting.
"I'm sorry too, Angel. For making you have to choose. If I had known I was in LA I might have tried to die in a different city," I say closing my eyes. He turns me around to face him, and takes my face gently in his hands.
"No. I'm glad you came to my city. At least you are, well a form of alive, and with a soul. Now you will be able to grace people with your beauty and intelligence for eternity."
He does know what to say to a girl. I smile a small smile that barely tugs at the corners of my mouth. I look into his eyes, those beautiful chocolate brown eyes. There's a pull between us. I don't know what it is, or how to describe it. Almost like I would do anything to make him happy. I would. Is that part of the Sire bond we have?
"Are you sure Lorne is right? I mean, I did try to eat that couple when we took a walk the other night. What if—"I try to say but he puts a single finger to my mouth. His finger slowly caresses my lips, tracing them. I have to try very hard not to take his finger into my mouth.
"Willow, I trust Lorne with my soul. And I have. I trust him with yours. The couple the other night…that was my fault. You're young and in need of some training. More now then ever. Let me help you?" he asks.
How does he do that? I've been effectively reduced to mush in his arms. He offers me so much. Practically everything I've ever wanted. Safety, security, love, hope…everything. Can he deliver though? I don't want his promises if they are empty. They do me no good; it would only serve to hurt me.
"Will you? Help me that is? Truly help me? I don't want you to if you really don't mean it," I say turning back to the mirror. I don't want to see his face if he's lying. I'd rather just stand here and look at nothing but the wall behind us.
"You are very special to me Willow," he says placing his hands on my hips. "I can't stress how much I want to help you, need to help you. If you would just let me…," he trails off.
I turn around, drawing closer to him. I run my hands from mid-chest to his shoulders feeling the hard muscles that lay under his maroon silk shirt. He takes a sharp intake of breath and looks down at me, lust clouding his eyes. I slowly bring myself up to meet his waiting lips, those soft, full, kissable lips. I run my tongue lightly across them, almost teasing. In one swift movement he captures my mouth in a hard, needy kiss. All tongue and teeth. This no breathing thing definitely comes in handy. I run my hands up into his hair, pulling his head closer, as if we could meld together at the lips.
His arms reach around me and lift me, setting me on the sink. Such a gentleman to not keep me at such an odd angle while kissing. We finally break the kiss, only to move to other areas of each other. I move my lips down his jaw line, nipping and licking my way to his neck. Angel is kissing his way along my temple to my ear, and down to my own neck. A long, soft, wet tongue makes its way across my jugular. I moan softly, encouraging him to keep up the good work.
I am suddenly overcome with the urge to sink fangs into his neck. My face changes, ridges and all. I fight hard for control, turning my face away from his neck. Angel gently places a hand on my head, leading me back to his neck, giving me permission to drink of him. I bite gently, drawing the sweet nectar of Sire's blood into my mouth, filling it, and then swallowing. He then sinks his teeth into me, and I spiral into oblivion. The sensations are overwhelming. I hear him moan, and I answer in kind. Eventually we stop, though I'm sure we could have stayed like that forever, locked together.
Our human guises slip back and we stare at each other. I wish I knew what he was thinking. I pull him down for another kiss, not as primal this time. It's more loving, passionate, caring. I run my hands along his chest, slipping fingers in-between the buttons to touch his skin. His hands are running up my back under my shirt, making my spine tingle.
I start to unbutton his shirt, carefully exposing his pale skin to me. I break the kiss and move to lick the expanse of chest that is now exposed. It tastes slightly salty, and smells of some oil I know, but can't name right off the top of my head. Especially not with him looking…oh God, just beautiful.
His eyes are closed and head thrown back. He is thoroughly enjoying this, if the bulge in his pants is any indication. The smell of our arousal fills this tiny bathroom. I undo the last of the buttons and gently slide my hands up to his shoulders, pushing the silky material with them, and off of him.
Angel decides it's his turn and takes off the shirt I borrowed from him. Exposing my chest to him, the bra long discarded days ago. He touches me reverently, like I would break. He runs his fingers across my breasts and I arch into the touch. Lowering his head, Angel licks lightly around my areola, teasing me, making me moan in protest. I am so enthralled in him that I barely hear the soft knocking on the outside door to his room. But he hears it and groans.
"Should answer that," he says not moving far from my chest.
"They'll go away," I say and try to pull his head back to me. He chuckles at my effort but pulls away anyways.
"I'll be right back," Angel says. He puts his shirt back on, buttoning it as he walks out of the bathroom and to the door. I grab my own shirt and put it back on to follow him. Whoever it is, they better have a good excuse. I walk out and see Cordelia at the door holding a phone.
"It's Giles," she says and looks at me. I must look disheveled because she just shook her head and looked back at Angel. My heart sinks. Giles? Why is he calling Angel? I don't want them to know.
"Don't tell him Angel," I plea. They don't have the right to know where I am. I've been gone for three weeks...I think. Wouldn't they have called him before now if they were truly worried? They are probably just covering their asses. Making a half-hearted attempt. Well, screw them.