Email: KallieRose@aol.com
Rating: R, probably
Summary: Angelus meets someone, has some fun
Disclaimer: None of the characters here are mine in any way. Wish they were, cuz they're both so cute!
A/N: This is my first posting to the list...if there is anything I did incorrectly, please let me know. Also, any feedback would be greatly appreciated. I'm still fairly new to this, so any help is greatly appreciated.
Note: this is an AU fic. Angelus loses his soul again (pesky thing…as Spike said once about Dawn, couldn't you put a Lo-jack on that thing?). This takes place during season 5 or 6, I guess. Angelus returns to Sunnydale with revenge on his mind. But first he has a chance encounter at the Bronze.
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He slid silently around the edges of the crowd, keeping to the shadows. His eyes watched the bodies on the dance floor, boys and girls playing games with mutual attraction, undulating in time to the music. Boys and girls, he thought, shaking his head. They really were just children.
He had debated whether he wanted to come back to this place, the Bronze. He had many memories of time spent here with *her*, the Slayer, back when his soul had made him her lapdog. But things were different now, very different. His soul was gone again, thanks to a particularly stupid demon who had thought it would be "fun" to mess with a souled vampire. While what he had done to that demon later wasn't enjoyable for the demon, it sure was fun for Angelus. And now he was ready for a slightly different diversion.
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If anyone had thought to look in his direction, which they hadn't, they would have seen a handsome man with the face of an angel. Dark brown spiky hair, cut with style. A body that Michelangelo himself would have been honored to sculpt, and deep, dark brown eyes. His expression at that moment was one of insolence, and he wore a mocking smile on his lips, a smile which didn't quite reach into his beautiful brown eyes.
He stood on the catwalk, hanging slightly over the railing, and watched the dancers without much interest. He wasn't really hungry, just interested in a casual conquest to take back to his hotel. Maybe someone he could keep around for a bit and snack on later. But he didn't really see anyone worthy of his attention.
Then he saw something that caught his eye…a flash of red. There it was again. His eyes narrowed as they settled upon a young girl with shoulder-length red hair and a lean, tight body. She moved with abandon on the dance floor, her back to him. Angelus could see no partner for her, though. She was dancing by herself, moving to the music simply for the joy of dancing.
He frowned slightly, heavy eyebrows coming together over dark, hooded eyes. Something tickled at the back of his memory. Of course, he thought, she looks like the Slayer's friend Willow. Still, although he could not see her face, he knew that this could not be Willow. Willow was a shy, quiet, gentle girl, quite easy to overlook unless you knew she was there. She was pretty, in a soft, unspectacular sort of way, a complete contrast to the Slayer's wild beauty. Angel had never really paid much attention to her. This woman, on the other hand, danced with wild abandon on the dance floor, without a thought of who could see her or what they would think of her. It simply could not be the same person. He had to admit, however, that the general features were quite similar.
Then he noticed something that made him even more certain that this could not be Willow…this woman was a witch. A fairly powerful witch at that. He could feel the power coming off her in soft, gentle waves. This was definitely someone he wanted to get to know.
Moving slowly, languidly, as if he had all the time in the world, he made his way down the stairs and to the edge of the dance floor. The redhead was still dancing, moving her body fluidly in time to the fast beat of the song. Then the music changed and became slower, softer, sexier.
He weaved his way between the dancing bodies until he was right behind the redhead. He put his hands on her hips, drawing them back against his leather-clad thighs. He felt her jolt slightly at the contact. "Don't turn around," he whispered softly into her ear. He wanted to preserve the illusion that this was Willow, the Slayer's pet, even though he knew that it wasn't really her. Still, he felt himself get aroused by the thought that it was, that it could be. Imagine what it would do to the Slayer if he seduced her little friend. He put that thought in the back of his mind, in the drawer labeled "ways to make the bitch pay."
As the music continued to play, soft and sensuous, he pulled her even closer, grinding her rear against his growing erection. She shifted and wriggled deliciously, making him even harder. Dancing with her was a kind of torture…he knew that it would not be enough. He had to take her somewhere, somewhere more private, where he could *really* take her. Maybe back to his room.
As the music ended he tugged at her hand, gently leading her off the dance floor. He never looked back at her; he knew that she would follow his lead. And she did.
He led her out of the club's back entrance, down the alley and around a corner, away from the noise of the street, into the wet, dark, quiet alley. Without any preliminaries, he pushed her up against the wall of a building, facing away from him. His chin rested on her shoulder, his hands around her waist.
She started to open her mouth, to turn around, but he just pushed her head away from his and whispered "Shhh, not a word, do you understand?" She nodded silently and turned her face back towards the wall.
Unable to restrain himself any longer, he ran his hands along the soft swell of her ass, then down lower, to her thighs. She was wearing pantyhose and a short skirt. She gasped as he shredded the pantyhose and then quickly pushed the skirt up above her hips. His eyes drank in the sight of her beautiful white-milky skin. He smiled…she wasn't wearing any underwear. Definitely his kind of woman.
He had to have her, and quickly. He quickly unzipped his pants, the sound of the zipper echoing in the empty alley. He placed his hands on either side of her head, and without any preliminaries, he pushed into her.
She was ready for him. Wet, warm, welcoming--she was all of that. As he continued to thrust into her, she pushed her hips back against him, grinding her clit against his long, hard shaft. He grunted, thrusting, pushing her hard against the brick building. Again and again he thrust into her, each time seeming to go a little deeper into her. From the grunts and the soft cries she made, he knew he was hurting her, but he didn't care. All that he cared about was achieving that feeling of release that he strived for.
Finally, he was there. He thrust deeply one last time, threw his head back and groaned loudly, then covered her body with his own as he slumped against her, spent.
He watched her as she slid down to her knees, panting heavily. He knew she hadn't come yet, but he had, and that was all that mattered to him. Hell, she's lucky she's still alive, he thought. Usually he'd have bitten her and drained her as he came, but tonight he was feeling strangely generous. He'd needed something, and she'd given it to him without any struggle. No words, no recriminations, nothing. He'd let her live, and then maybe he would run into her again some other night, when he could take his time with her, maybe return to her some of the pleasure she had given him tonight.
Not wanting to hear her words or see her face, not wanting to spoil
the illusion, he left her quickly, quietly, his jacket swirling behind
him. His final words, "Thanks, little one," floated towards her across
the quiet night. The darkness of the night swallowed him up before
he ever saw her face.
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The redhead pulled herself slowly back to her feet, legs weak with fear and unsatisfied lust. She winced as she felt the pain in the muscles of her thighs and between her legs. But mostly, she was just surprised that she was still alive.
"Well," thought Willow to herself, "I guess I'd better go tell the gang
that Angelus is back in town."