E-MAIL: medealives@hotmail.com
PAIRING: Angelus/Willow
RATING: PG-13 (Language/Naughty Insinuations)
SUMMARY: An alley. A stalemate between a frightened Slayerette and a persistent vampire. Can Willow match wits with Angelus in his deadly game?
SPOILERS: BtVS Season 2, 'Surprise'
ARCHIVE: Please do. HOME, HOME ON THE RANGE....: http://members.fortunecity.com/medealives/index.html
DISCLAIMER: Do I look like Joss? HA! Joss wouldn't be wasting his time at a computer screen when he was supposed to be packing a suitcase for Paris...Sucky? Lame? Not believable? Yeah, well, I haven't been getting much sleep...
FEEDBACK: Yup! Comments and criticism gratefully accepted at medealives@hotmail.com
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How had she let this happen?
/*Stupid, stupid, stupid way to die!*/
Willow scrambled down the darkened alley, desperately searching for a fire escape or a door, or anything at all that would get her out of this mess. What had she been thinking, stepping outside the Bronze for a little fresh air *alone*?
And now he was right behind her.
She could hear his low, mocking chuckle, pursuing her through the shadows like a hound on the hunt.
/*Think, Willow, think!*/
No outlet to the alley: a dead end. Literally, if she couldn't come up with something and do it quick.
Dumpster? No good. It would probably be the first place he looked. Still, Willow scanned up the wall to see if there was a high window she might reach if she climbed up on the dumpster.
Nothing.
Manhole? Maybe she could escape through the sewers, although that would probably be like going from the frying pan into the proverbial fire, considering that the sewers were the Undead Freeway.
But no manhole.
/*Arrgh! Use your head Willow! They usually put those things in the middle of the street. You know, nice, wide, open street where people walk and cars drive? Much safer than this dark, smelly alley you ducked into? Not so bright, huh?*/
"Well, isn't this enticing?" came a dreadful voice from the entrance to the alley.
/*Okay, getting *really* scared here...*/
/*Really, really *not* up with the dying thing. Dying equals bad. Dying in a stinky alley is an extra bleah, although the dying part is bad enough on its own.*/
As Willow wrinkled her nose instinctively at the pungent stench of urine along the wall, her glance fell on a large, cardboard box a few paces away and a flash of inspiration hit her. Well, maybe it was only the vain, deluded hope of One-Who-Really-Didn't-Feel-Like-Dying-The-Night-Before-Her-Chemistry-Exam. But it was worth a shot.
Anything was worth a shot when Angelus was blocking the only escape from the alley.
Willow scrambled toward the box and crawled in, her heart thumping in her throat, every nerve pulsing with fear. Please work, please, please, please work! Subtle signs made her hopeful. The box, one of the large kind that a washing machine or dryer might be delivered in, had been tilted on its side and seemed a bit scuffed up inside. It also had a faint, sweaty, urine-y odor to it, although nowhere near as bad as the wall of the alley.
Slow, heavy footfalls echoed through the alley as Angelus drew nearer and nearer, stalking her in the darkness. Trembling, Willow tucked her knees as close to her chest as possible, making sure that every part of her was completely within the box. She had to remind herself to breathe.
Her breaths, when they managed to get through her terror-constricted throat, came out in shallow, shaky pants.
Then, the terrible moment arrived when leather-clad legs and wicked-looking boots came to a stop before the box. Legs bent and heels rose as Angelus crouched down to peer into her cramped refuge.
He smiled coyly. "Hello, Willow."
Willow flinched and shrank back even further into the box.
"What, no greeting for an old friend?" the dark vampire taunted with a smirk. "But you've always been so welcoming, so eager to make room for the poor vampire with a soul." With feigned self-pity, Angelus heaved a sigh of resignation and said, "Oh, well. If you're not willing to make room for me any more, guess I'll just have to bring you out to join me."
With that, he reached out to seize Willow. For one terrifying moment, the frightened red-head was certain she felt her heart stop.
Relief flooded her in the next instant, when the hand that would certainly have killed her was repelled by an invisible barrier.
"What the--?" Angelus's voice was tinged with equal measures of irritation and astonishment. He gave an experimental poke at the seemingly open end of the box. Once again, his deadly hand was stayed by an unseen force that would not yield.
"What the hell is this?" The vampire's tone had now darkened with anger.
He balled his hand into a fist, drew his arm back, and punched with all his might. Enraged when this met with no greater success than his first two attempts, Angelus snarled curses most foul. He surged to his feet, stalked a short distance away, then began pacing like a caged tiger.
Except in this case, it felt to Willow like she was the one in the cage, with a very hungry, nasty tiger looking in at her.
Eventually, Angelus regained his composure and returned to the box. Once more, he crouched down and peered in at Willow. A sly grin graced his handsome features, but his eyes were hard and calculating. The timid, young hacker was distinctly aware of being appraised.
"Clever girl," Angelus conceded, letting his gaze roam over the dingy cardboard box. "A human abode is a human abode, be it ever so humble. I wonder who I could kill for coming up with the term 'homeless'? It's obviously misleading."
He paused for a moment, and Willow felt chills crawl along her skin like insects as his expression grew cold and utterly unforgiving. "Wait, I know. I could kill the pathetic piece of human waste who nests in this box. One dead vagrant...no more barrier... one dead school girl. Tell me, Willow, how long do you think we'll have to wait before he comes back?"
Willow closed her eyes and bit her lip, trying to squeeze back her tears at the thought that Angelus would kill someone else just to get to her.
"Oh! Do you think that's him now?" Angelus remarked, glancing toward the entrance to the alley.
Willow's eyes snapped open. She had to warn--
Reality came crashing down on her in a cold sweat as she halted abruptly, a fraction of an inch away from having leaned out of the box to see who might be approaching. That was close.
With wide, haunted eyes, Willow stared at Angelus and slowly pressed herself as far back into the box as she could manage.
"Definitely clever," Angelus observed with a slight lift of an eyebrow. "Wasn't sure if I'd slip that past you, but it was worth a try."
Willow's only response was a strained, audible swallow as she tried to soothe her throat, which had gone dry with fear.
Angelus, on the other hand, looked completely at ease. He sat down facing her, then stretched his legs out to the side and leaned on one elbow, the very picture of leisure. Lacing his fingers together with the same, studiously patient air as the high-school guidance counselor when he was trying to persuade her that he really was interested in her plans for the future, Angelus let a half-smile tease at his lips and mused, "Since it might be a while before I get to kill you, we may as well get comfortable. So, what shall we talk about, Willow?"
For the first time since she'd stepped outside the Bronze (idiot!) and found herself in this fatal situation, Willow felt words forming in her mouth, albeit timidly.
"Go...away..." she whispered so softly and shakily she almost didn't hear the words herself.
Vampire hearing, however, was notoriously acute.
"And deprive myself of the pleasure of your company?" Angelus countered in mock surprise. "No, no, Willow. You've always had such a talent for making me feel all *warm* and *fuzzy*. Even when you had no clue what to say to me. Like now. It was just so...sweet...hearing you get all tongue-tied." Slowly, the dark vampire reached out and began tracing idle designs along the barrier with his fingertip. "Why was it so hard for you to talk to me, I wonder? Did I scare you even then?"
"N-no..." Willow began, but stopped. It would be pointless to say anything to him, when everything Angelus did was just a ploy to lower her defences so he could kill her.
"No? Willow, Willow," Angelus tsked her with a disapproving frown. "Lying just doesn't come naturally to you. So innocent. Oh, I think I scared you. Not like I'm scaring you now, but there were other things about me that made you afraid, weren't there?"
Angelus rested his palm flat against the barrier before slowly curling his fingers like claws and raking them down the supernatural shield that kept him from pouncing. Willow's nervous gaze flicked between that menacing hand and the vampire's ever-watchful eyes. She found herself staring at him, transfixed like a deer in headlights.
"What was it you told Buffy?" Angelus wrinkled his brow thoughtfully. "A few vowel sounds and then you have to go away?"
/*No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no....*/
This had to be the stuff of Willow's worst nightmares. It wasn't bad enough that she was trapped by a vampire whose only concern was whether he should snap her neck or drain every drop of blood out of her body. Nope, the threat of death apparently wasn't misery enough. He was going to pick apart every one of those secret thoughts and anxieties about boys that were supposed to stay between her and her diary. Oh, God. She'd had stomach-churning, sweaty-palm panic attacks before at the thought of Cordelia Chase tormenting her over these very issues.
Willow wasn't sure who was worse in this case: Cordelia, or the psychotic demon before her.
"That was why you were Buffy's little cheerleader in her forbidden romance, wasn't it?" he continued in a smooth, seductive voice that made Willow feel violated. "Did your lips tingle when Buffy and I kissed? Did you get a vicarious thrill, sighing on the sidelines, little girl?"
Heat flared through her cheeks as Willow blushed furiously and averted her gaze. She desperately wished that the sun would suddenly come out in a bizarre, cosmic, freak occurrence and turn him to ashes. She'd even settle for turning to ashes herself.
"Did you touch yourself, Willow?" The question was hushed, a forbidden whisper that mocked every one of her girlish daydreams about destined love and soul mates. "In your bed at night, did you slip your hand between your legs while your imagination conjured up secret fantasies about perfect lovers?"
"Dont," Willow bit out, low and desperate, not quite a demand, not quite a plea.
With fluid, feline grace, Angelus leaned forward until his face was flush against the barrier. "When you were consoling her after she *fucked* the soul out of me, how persistent was that small, still voice in your mind that still wanted to ask her what it felt like? What it was like to be with a man?"
"You're not a man," Willow's voice grew a little louder, a little firmer. She managed to raise her eyes to his and glare at him, albeit weakly.
"And I'm not a boy," her vampire tormentor countered smoothly. "Aren't you tired of being the faithful supporter, always on the sidelines, just a pawn in someone else's game? Wouldn't you like to see what it's like to play, yourself?"
"I'm already a pawn in a game I really don't feel like playing, but considering my options right now, I'd rather be a pawn than dinner," Willow blurted out, not quite sure where the sudden, chatty streak came from.
"Fair enough," Angelus conceded. With a sinister gleam in his eye, he ran his tongue over his incisors and added, "Although, as dinners go, I bet you'd taste sweet. I still plan to find out. But, can I be honest, Willow?"
Willow *seriously* doubted that. However, she held her tongue while Angelus continued.
"Between you and me? Street people taste awful." He pulled a face and feigned a shudder of disgust. "Their blood is vile, kind of gamey. I mean, sure, it'll do in a pinch, if there's nothing else around. But I'd really rather not spoil my palate on it. So how would you like a chance to make us both happy?"
"Um...you're going to hold still while I stake you?" Willow ventured.
"How kind of you to confirm my suspicions, Willow," Angelus purred his retort. "Underneath that sweet, innocent girl, there *is* a nasty streak." He cocked his head to the side and raked his eyes over Willow's trembling form. "Let the nasty girl come out to play, and win something you want."
"Uh-uh, no way," Willow refused, shaking her head. "Whatever you're going to say, it's a trap, so you might as well not even say it. And, hey," she added indignantly, "not very convincing to call someone nasty if you want them to do something for you."
Angelus inclined his head ever so slightly in acknowledgment, his gaze never wavering from hers. Arching an eyebrow, he said, "You know the risk, but you don't know the reward."
For several moments, Willow refused to reply, not wanting to be manipulated by the deceptively-calm killer who studied her just inches away. Eventually, she caved in to the superior patience of the 240 year-old demon and asked, "Okay, so...what's the reward?"
"You get the satisfaction of saving a life," Angelus answered.
"Whose life?" Willow pressed warily.
"The piece of filth whose 'home' you're occupying."
The troubled young red-head frowned. "But not mine?"
Angelus shrugged and smiled. "I *am* hungry, after all. And I told you that I prefer the finer tastes life has to offer -- your life, in particular. Besides, Buffy is a shallow, self-absorbed child. An anonymous vagrant turns up dead, and she won't so much as bat an eyelash. But you? Her best friend? Oh yeah, that'll hurt."
Willow recoiled in fury and stammered, "Go...oooh! Go...fall on a stake!"
"Easy, there, Willow," Angelus chuckled, his eyes dancing in wicked merriment. "You see, I *am* pretty honest, for a demon. I've been completely honest about wanting to kill you. Haven't tried to deny it once. I know, I know -- you hate me right now. But are you going to let a little thing like hate stop you from saving another human being's life?"
Silently, Willow fumed. She really, really wanted to smack that irritating, smug smile off of his face, but the trouble with that was that it involved reaching out of the box. And it would *not* be worth it to die just to give an arrogant vampire one good, hard slap in the face.
Really. It wouldn't.
Tempting, but not worth it.
"What would I have to do?" Willow sulked, rather than asked, her question.
"Nothing you haven't thought about doing before," Angelus assured her. Waiting until Willow raised her eyes to meet his, he said, "Kiss me."
"What?!" Willow's eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets and she was positive that her face had just gone redder than her hair.
"Kiss me, and I'll let the wretch whose hovel you're hiding in live," the dark vampire explained with a mocking smirk. Willow was poised to hurl the meanest insults she could think of, but Angelus interrupted her with a shake of his head. "Protesting is a waste of time, Willow. You know you thought about it, when it was nice and safe and you could hide on the sidelines. Why don't you see what it's like to get in the game yourself? Satisfy your curiosity -- or do you want your life to be nothing but daydreams?"
"Who do you think you're kidding?" Willow snapped indignantly. Her voice rose and her face grew more and more animated as she tore into the vampire who had just twisted every aspect of their one-time friendship into a sordid mockery. A mockery that cut at her all the more painfully, all the more shamefully, because deep down, it contained a tiny element of truth. "All your talk of games and sidelines and pawns and players. You're trying to make me a pawn right now. Kiss you? Yeah, sure -- so you can get me to lean forward enough to grab me and yank me out of here. You think I'm stupid!"
"Not at all, Willow," Angelus countered, his eyes narrowing. "You've always been a very smart girl. I can't make you a pawn. There are rules to every game, and you already understand the rules. I can't get at you while you're in there. You're safe as long as you stay in that cardboard hovel, unless the person who lives there comes back and I kill him. Until then, we're in stalemate. I've simply offered you the chance to save one life. The decision is up to you."
Willow's brow furrowed at the dilemma. There was no way she could trust Angelus. Even if she did what he asked, he probably wouldn't keep his promise. And then she'd end up dead. But doubt gnawed at her resolve. What if he *did* keep his promise? So long as it was just a little kiss, so long as she just pressed her lips against the barrier without crossing it, she might be able to stay safe...right? And if that could win one life...?
Frowning, she glanced furtively at Angelus. "I shouldn't trust you at all."
"No, you shouldn't," he agreed, smiling amiably.
"Just a kiss. That's all," Willow stated, her resolve wavering.
"One kiss," Angelus confirmed.
"No biting," she insisted, aiming for stern but unable to sound anything but completely intimidated.
"Saving it for later," the dark vampire chuckled. Chastened by Willow's harsh glare, Angelus stifled his grin and said, "Sorry. I'd say 'just kidding', but I'm not."
Fighting to overcome the tense knot in her stomach, Willow drew in a deep breath. Then, with the utmost care, she shifted so that she was on her knees and inched forward. Like the predator he was, Angelus followed her every move. Willow kept her eyes wide open in anticipation of trickery. Slowly, slowly, she brought her face closer to that imperceptible barrier that was the only thing keeping her from an ugly death. A hint of a grin tugged at Angelus's lips as he leaned forward to meet her.
Heart thundering in her chest, Willow finally brushed her lips against his. With surprising tenderness, Angelus angled his mouth and moved his lips over hers, as if he could caress her with that small surface of flesh. Against her better judgment, in violation of every survival instinct she had, Willow found herself closing her eyes and slipping into the sweetness of the kiss.
He was evil. He was a liar and a manipulator and a vicious killer, but he had been oh so right. Something deep inside her, the something that had always made her heart flutter when she saw Buffy and Angel together, had indeed been curious about this. Yes, Willow had wondered what it was like.
A slick, velvety tongue ran along her lips, teasing them, trying to coax them apart, seeking entry.
It would be so tempting to just--
Willow's entire body went rigid as the trap suddenly came into focus, crystal clear. She had been on the verge of opening her mouth beneath his demanding tongue and welcoming him in. The moral issues about consent might get murky when it was a matter of he said/she said or date rape, but Willow was unwilling to find out just what the mystical forces behind anti-vamp barriers considered an invitation.
Shakily, with clenched teeth, Willow leaned back from the barrier and said, "No."
"Almost had you," Angelus taunted with a sinister grin. "But you were right. You can't trust me. I'm going to kill the first vagrant that shuffles down this alley toward that box. And then, I'll kill you."
Exhausted and emotionally drained from her stand-off with the sadistic demon, Willow snapped and did what she realized she should have done in the first place.
"BUFFY!" she screamed with all her might. "Buffy! Xander! Anybody! Help me! Help me, please! Help! Buffy!"
"I love that sound!" Angelus shouted with glee, shifting to his gameface and leering hungrily at her. "Pure terror and helplessness. You are just so much fun!"
Willow continued screaming until, sure enough, her friends, who had grown worried when she'd disappeared from the Bronze, came running into the alley. At the sight of Angelus looming over a tearful, screaming Willow, Buffy barrelled ahead with a vengeance, stake raised and ready to dust. Xander followed hot on her heels, a look of pure hatred in his eyes for the vampire who threatened his best friend. Oz wasn't far behind, and the crossbow he wielded was aimed directly at Angelus.
The dark vampire tsked and shook his head. "Well, as much as I'd like to stay and kill all your friends while you cowered there and did nothing..."
With that, he charged at the approaching teens, got in a few punches with Buffy, knocked Xander down with one, dismissive swipe, dodged a bolt that Oz fired at him, and fled into the night.
Willow collapsed into Buffy's arms and cried...and cried...and cried.
The ordeal was over.
Her friends hovered around her protectively, offering her hugs and assurances. They got her home safely, and Buffy even offered to stay with her, attempting to ease Willow's shattered nerves by saying it could be just like a sleep-over. Willow smiled, hugged her friends again, and told them she'd be fine.
After they'd gone, however, she spent much of the night lying awake, quaking at each noise, each tiny sound.
She must have fallen asleep at some point, though, because in the morning, when she sat up in bed and looked out her window, she saw the evidence of his visit, even though she didn't remember seeing him lurking outside the night before.
A small, black chess piece.
Another taunt. A reminder that she was, indeed, nothing but a pawn in a deadly game that Angelus was playing with Buffy.
Choking down the lump in her throat, Willow walked over, opened the door that led out to her terrace, and bent down to retrieve the pawn.
Except...it wasn't a pawn.
It was a knight.
THE END