Pairing: W/Angelus
Disclaimer: All things BtVS belong to Joss Whedon, et al.
Distribution: The normal places. No one else.
Author's Note: The first purely BtVS fic I've written in a while. Hope it pleases.
Notes2: Spoilers for BtVS S6. Takes place at some indeterminate time in the AtS universe prior to Connor, prior to Lorne getting so chummy, etc.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
~*~Prologue~*~
No one knew when it happened. He didn't even know why. Maybe it was a time release clause caused by the caster of the last spell not really being that adept.
Maybe it was something more.
Maybe it was something less.
All that mattered was, in the end, he was free again. The pain, the horrible searing, ripping feeling coming from within; as if something large and horrible was trying to tear its way from his skin, out into the world.
And then the sense of freedom.
He smiled, grinding his cigarette out on the floor of his room before picking it up and tossing it discreetly out of the open window. A fan was blowing the odor outside, away from him. The last thing he needed was for someone to figure it out now. Not when everything was going 'so far, so good'. The Seer didn't have a clue. Nor the ex-Watcher.
That cute little brunette, though - she'd looked at him kind of strange a few times; like she could see what the others couldn't. It wasn't possible, though. She had nothing to reference, not like the others. The would-be thug was just as clueless.
He was back, better than ever. Not so crazy.
Yeah, he could admit he might as well have been talking to the stars with Dru last time he came back. He was that far gone. Totally nuts. Send the world to Hell?
Well Hell isn't really all its cracked up to be, is it?
And where would he have gotten a midnight snack from? The day-long barbecue pits of the nether world?
Deep-fried food wasn't really his style. He liked it raw and still screaming, begging for mercy.
Food that could still run and flee was fun too.
He smiled, fangs biting into his lower lip; realizing for the first time that he wasn't in his human mask. It felt so much better to just let the demon out . . .free to do what it wanted. To show itself for what it really was.
Evil.
He smirked. Soon the city would bleed. Soon the masses would hide in the homes in terror.
Soon.
But, first things first. There was only one person that could put a stop to this before it even got started. One person with the knowledge and the power.
A certain little red haired witch.
Willow.
The shy one.
The naive one.
The one that would be his.
He chuckled softly, pulling a book from the shelves of his room. It was an old text, one that Wesley had loaned his other self for research at one point. A treatise on vampires, their powers and their anatomy.
It contained alot of useful information, things he hadn't been aware of. Like the existence of different 'types' of vampires depending on where they were created, how they were Sired, things of that nature.
But the most important item was a power that he wasn't even aware of.
Blood.
Used on mortals, to be exact.
His blood could be slipped to a mortal and it would, very slowly, change them. Not quite human. Not quite vampire. But different from what they were. A mix of the two. And he had seen Willow's darker side, knew what it would be like.
Pure fun disguised as torture and pain and sensuality and desire.
She would be his. Her darkness would be a good pairing for what he already had, and her intellect would be an asset. And then there was the way she looked in leather corsets, nice and lusty --
"ANGEL!"
His head snapped towards the doorway, human mask sliding back into place. The damned Seer was screaming for him. Probably with another vision for him to go traipsing around like a knight in shining armor.
That would all end soon.
First things first, though -
Willow.
~*~Part One~*~
The day was unusually cool for being only early September, or at least Willow thought so. She shifted her books in her arms so that she could pull the light blue cardigan she wore a little tighter around herself. The skirt she wore was a thin denim and, though it reached her ankles, did little to shield her against the chill wind that blew through the airy open hallways of the school. One good thing about living in Southern California, she mused, was the dazzling architecture that left many places in the open air.
That, of course, on days like this was also a bad thing.
She hurried through the open hallways, breathing a sigh of relief when she finally made it out into the openness of the campus. Here the wind was less concentrated and a little warmer, the full power of the afternoon sun beating down to warm it. A soft smile flashed over her lips, here and then gone. The object of her hurrying was now within sight.
Tara.
She had found herself thinking more and more of the blonde haired girl, the only one with Talent other than herself in her Wiccan group. The night of the Gentlemen's visit, when they had joined hands and saved themselves with their powers - that had been the turning point, if there had to be one. That had been the point at which she knew that her feelings weren't totally of the friendship nature.
It had come as a great surprise when, after a night of introspection, she had decided that although this was something that had caught her offguard, she wasn't completely opposed to it.
That was - if Tara wasn't.
She really didn't know how to approach the situation, now that she had made her decision. It wasn't like she'd had the greatest track record with men. There had been the crush on Xander, which had gotten her nowhere; and her relationship with Oz - which had ended very badly. If she had to be honest, she'd admit that she had no idea how to flirt or even hint that she was interested. And then there was the complete unknowing of whether or not Tara liked. . .well. . .girls.
"H-hey," Tara stammered as Willow neared her, ducking her head to hide a face that Willow knew was probably pink.
"Hey yourself. On your way to class?" She motioned to the books Tara held in her arms.
"No," the other woman shook her head. "I was going to the library to study for my Chem test."
Willow smiled brightly. The library was in almost the opposite direction of where she, personally, had been heading, but the opportunity to spend time with Tara won out of her desire to go grab a quick nap before meeting with the others for a early evening research session.
"Mind if I join you, then? I have some. . things to look up. Book type things. Thus the library." She cursed herself silently for the babbling ramble that poured from her lips. Of course she was going to the library for books. That's where the books were stored. Argh! No wonder she'd only had Oz in her life!
"That would be nice," Tara smiled shyly and Willow's heart soared somewhere close to its pre-babble position. She turned, falling into step beside the blonde.
Maybe today would be a good day, after all.
~*~*~
Angelus was smirking as he lifted the receiver on the phone, dialing out a number he knew all too well. Things just couldn't be going any better. The perfect situation to start his new plan had all but fallen into his lap. He hadn't needed to contrive or fabricate a single thing. A new demon was in town - something large and smelly, for that matter. Wesley had narrowed down the spell that they needed to weaken it enough for the final death blow to be struck, but he needed a second to help perform it - preferably someone with some sort of magical Talent.
Which meant Cordelia was out. And Gunn and Fred. And, whoops, himself, too.
Shame, that.
But there was someone else that they knew that would be perfect for helping out. And she was only an hour or two away.
He listened to the phone ring. They'd probably all be there by this time. Wasn't that what they did on nights like this? Stay inside with the books and 'research'? Well, maybe not the Slayer. Knowing that little tramp she had a date and had left her friends to do all the 'hard' work. Only someone as lacking in brains as she was would consider research, sitting in a house without working up a bit of sweat, to be 'hard work'.
"Hello?"
Angelus smiled, calling forth the same memories of his souled-self's speech patterns that he had been relying on to fool his employees for days.
"Giles? It's Angel."
There was a pause, during which time the vampire dredged up memories of Jenny just as he had left her, perfectly posed on the Watcher's bed, to make him smile. After all, that's what Giles himself did every time he was forced to look at 'Angel'. He remembered that pain. That feeling of helplessness.
"Yes. Good evening, Angel. How can I help you?"
"Actually, I was hoping to get a message to Willow. There's a spell that Wesley needs help with and we were hoping that she could come up for a day or two?"
Or three or four, the demon within him cackled merrily. Take her, break her, make her your own. Twist that naive innocence to something dark and horrid. But don't ruin her mind, not like Drusilla. Never again like that bent looney.
Giles sighed. "She's right here. Hold on."
There was some noise on the other end as the phone was passed to another hand, and then her voice filled the line.
"Angel?"
"Willow, its good to hear from you again." He kept his tone as neutral as possible, as if inquiring about something completely mundane. Willow had never really been a 'friend' even to his souled-self. She was the Slayer's friend and, by association, someone that he had interacted with, but never on a wholly friendship basis.
"Yeah, you too." She paused. "Giles said you needed to ask me something?"
Here little fishy. . .
"There's this spell that Wesley needs help with. It would only take a day or two. Do you think --"
"Of course." Her happiness shined through the phone and he could just 'see' the thoughts going through her head - 'oh joy, someone -needs- me' or 'he wants me to come help, how cool'.
"Great. Can you get here tomorrow?"
"Um. .let me see." Pages flipped in the background, close to the phone. "Yeah, no tests for the rest of the week. I should be there by afternoon."
"That's great. We really appreciate this." He almost choked on the words, so nice and sweet. They tasted bad in his mouth.
"'Kay, see you then. Bye."
"Bye." He hung up the phone, resisting the urge to throw it across the room. Wesley was still in his office, head bent over the book of spells he and Willow would be using. She'd be here tomorrow. Tomorrow the plan would begin and then. . in a couple weeks.
Fruition.
He laughed softly, dark eyes narrowing as images of Wesley's broken, battered body lying in the very center of the lobby ran through his mind.
Yes, this would be fun times indeed.
No one would see it coming.
~*~Part Two~*~
The drive to the Hyperion was something of a welcome relief for Willow, a quiet time between herself and no one else. She could think if she wanted, sing with the radio if she wanted, or just zone out and drive.
She chose to do a mixture of the latter two. There had been too much thinking lately and she was, to be honest, a little sick of it. Sick of over analyzing every little thing in her life. That's what she got for growing up with psychiatrists for parents, though. A deep sense of self-evaluation, even if it led to low self-worth.
But that was all going to change, she told herself as the radio switched over to commercials. She was going to make things better. No more sitting around waiting for life to come to her. No, this time she was going to come to life. When she got back to Sunnydale she was going to make a move on Tara. A little move, yes. But a move, still. And either it would go well or it would go badly - but either way she would have tried. No more sitting around just waiting for something, anything, to happen. She was going to be a new and improved Willow. A non-mousy non-shy Willow. She --
Who was she kidding? The plans all seemed well and good in her head, but the second she got home and started trying to put them into action she'd run into the same brick wall she always did - she was still the same old Willow. And Willow didn't do things that were bold or brash. She wasn't the one that made the first, or even second, move.
She pulled up outside of the Hyperion, still giving herself a great mental kick for even getting worked up over something she would never follow through on, and grabbed her overnight bag from the seat next to her. It had a couple changes of clothing, just a few things in case this took longer than a couple hours.
"Willow!" Cordelia called out as the red head entered the lobby. She still looked like the same old Cordy, Willow noted. Complete with emaculate clothes and makeup. Obviously being a Seer was good for her.
"Hey." Willow smiled in the moment of uncomfortable silence that descended on them. Some things would never change - she still had nothing to say to Cordelia. "Angel around?"
"The King of the Brood is upstairs doing what he does best."
"Brooding."
"Of course." The former cheerleader shrugged. "Up those stairs, third door on the left."
"Thanks." Willow offered, already heading towards the winding staircase. You could take Angel out of Sunnydale, it appeared, but you could never make him not sit in dark rooms thinking thoughts of self-admonishment. Atonement was all fine and good - but he really needed to move on.
Besides, she didn't really think that feeling sorry and guilty was the same thing as atonement anyway.
She stopped in the doorway of the room Cordelia had indicated, a soft smile touching her lips. Yep, there he was. Sitting in a chair, in the dark, just thinking.
Silly vampire.
~*~*~
He could smell her, standing there. She was watching him and he was letting her. It was easier this way, letting her assume that what she saw was what she got, before launching into his Emmy-worthy performance of the tortured vampire known as Angel.
Angelus laughed silently, licking his lips.
"You can come in, Willow."
It was hard not to laugh outright at the soft, startled 'eep' that left her mouth before she set foot in the room.
"It's. . .uh. . good to see you, Angel." She stammered, and he could smell her blood so much the stronger now that she was fully flustered. Her face was red now, he knew. Even without turning he knew without a doubt that she was blushing.
"Thanks for coming," he said simply, rising from his chair. "I know Wesley. . .and the rest of us. . . really appreciate it."
"Yeah, well," she shrugged. "You guys can always count on me."
Can we, he wanted to ask.
Will you be there for us. . . for me? When you know the truth will you stand there, at my side, powerful and cruel?
Well, she wouldn't have a choice in the matter. She'd be his, body and soul, before she even knew what was happening.
He reached over, flicking on a table lamp.
"Are you thirsty? Hungry?"
"A little thirsty," she admitted with a shy smile.
"Let's see what Cordelia put in here last night." He walked to the refrigerator, already knowing what was in it. He had been the one to tell the intelligence-challenged secretary what to get, after all. "I have some sort of cherry flavored water and soda."
"Soda is good."
He was smiling on the inside as he reached into the back of the refrigerator, pulling out a small bottled soda that he had prepared especially for her the night before. Mixed in amongst the bubbles and carbonation was exactly what he needed to get his plan rolling - his blood. Just a few drops. Not enough to even be noticeable over the strong taste of the soda. Coming from a minion or a master vampire of lesser power, it wasn't even enough to do anything.
But he wasn't a minion or any other master vampire. He was a childe of Darla, childe of the Master. One of the last of the Aurelius bloodline.
He was, to put it mildly, powerful.
And this was more than enough of his blood to start working in her system, changing her from within.
He twisted the cap off, handing it to her with what he felt was an Angel-enough smile.
"So, about the spell -" she began, taking a sip of the soda. He waited, eyes watchful, to see if she would notice anything. Anything at all. But she didn't say anything, just looked at him for an answer.
"It's for closing this small dimensional portal. Wesley'll be able to tell you more about it. Unfortunately," he sighed, making a big show of seeming sorry for what he was about to say. "Something came up and I had to send Wes for something a few hours north of here. He'll be back late tonight. I hope you didn't need to get back to Sunnydale right away?"
She shook her head, and Angelus felt an almost overwhelming urge to cheer.
"I've got until Sunday if we need that long." She gestured at her bag. "I even brought some clothes and stuff with me."
"Good."
Good, he chuckled silently. This was great. She would be here for four or five days. Plenty of time to get her fully under the influence of his blood.
"I'll show you to a room, then," he offered, letting his face fall back into his souled-self's perpetual mask of brooding.
This was going to be even easier than he had thought.
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