Reflections

Author: Ann of Midnight

Rating: NC-17

Category: Angel/Willow and Crossover.

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me. Joss owns everyone except Pacey, who belongs to Kevin Williamson. There is some mention of characters from Kindred: the Embraced, they belong to Spelling entertainment. No need to have seen the show.

Summary: The title says it all, this is *mostly* character's reflections. Some insight into Angelus' life after the curse.

Notes: Part 6 of the Extended Family Series.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

-WILLOW-

The long night had finally come to pass, the sun creeping up over the horizon a few hours before.

Willow didn't know how long she had been there. The vampire had collapsed after his orgasm and she'd been swept up in his movement, falling on top of him. There they stayed, on the floor next to her bed, the only sounds in the dark room coming from her. His whole being was cold and hard as marble under her, gloriously naked. It unnerved her some that he wasn't breathing, that she couldn't feel a heartbeat, but his arms held her tight and she felt safe. She didn't want to move just yet.

She still couldn't quite get over the events of the last few days. She, little Willow Rosenberg, had gotten Angel out of Hell and she'd just finished giving him a blowjob. She remembered talking about it earlier, about her fear of hurting the man with her teeth, of not doing it right... but this wasn't any man, and pain didn't bother him at all, if there was any. There was no doubt what she did was right and she'd probably have bruises on her shoulders as a reminder. Of course she didn't need those, the sounds of pleasure Angel had made were etched in her memory forever. <Marked in a drawer called 'wow, I did that -bad Willow-' tee-hee>.

It was almost too much, every time she thought she was adjusting, the magnitude of it all slammed into her. She liked being in control, or at least knowing where she stood. She hadn't anticipated any of this, or the feelings that grew stronger every time she thought of him.

All summer, she'd tried to convince herself she couldn't be feeling what she was feeling. Before the restoration, before he'd gone to Hell, she hadn't really felt this way. Not before he was gone.

She had told Pacey earlier that she had always loved Angel and it had been the truth, but she hadn't known it then, not like she knew now. She had been instantly attracted to him but had accepted that as a fact of life. Sure, he was the most gorgeous guy she'd ever seen, but he was a vampire and there was an invisible sign on him that said 'property of Buffy Summers: you touch, you die'. There had been no question in her mind that he wouldn't want a mouse like her. The only time she felt some physical attraction from him, was when Angelus had held her at the school and she'd felt his erection pressed against her butt. That had been truly terrifying and the fact that he was preparing to kill her did not help matters.

She had honestly thought she loved Xander then, but the young man was safe, he was something she knew she could never live with. He was what she was supposed to want, and Willow never went against type.

When she looked at Angel, the whole world fell away and they were the only two people in the room. She repeatedly tried to beat the thoughts out of her head, but she knew there was something there, it felt destined somehow and a voice in the back of her mind kept telling her to be patient. She had always looked out for others before herself so she just changed the subject whenever she felt herself contemplating whatever-it-was too closely. She was the dependable one after all.

She had seen a lost soul in his eyes. She had to struggle every day not to go to him and try to make it better. She'd wanted to be his friend, she'd wanted to see him live, she'd wanted to see him pieced back together. She'd longed for him to quit beating himself up and stand up. Let go. Move on. Forgive himself. But he hadn't been ready. And she hadn't been ready.

The tides were changing, she could feel it. It was like everything was coming together. Angel had broken down earlier but she could see he was a changed man. Soon, he would wake up and stand up and be stable for the first time. She was sure of it.

She sighed and opened her eyes to find him looking at her. She kissed him gently and lay on her side, scooping up against him and nuzzling against his back.

"That was uh- I liked it. Did you -uh, like it?"

"I don't know how you can ask me that. That was amazing. You're quite the uh- student. I know William would be jealous."

She blushed and snuggled more closely. They talked in hushed tones.

"It's morning. Sweet dreams"

"... Angel?"

"Yes Willow?"

"What should I call you? Now that you're well- you? 'Cause you don't seem like Angel, and-"

"You can call me whatever you want, whatever you're comfortable with. The only reason I started going by Angel was because I didn't want anyone tracking me but now-. My father called me Liam because he thought my mother had picked terribly, but I never answered to that name. My mother called me Angel sometimes, as a diminutive and as an inside joke, because everyone knew I was anything but. The rest of my family and friends called me Angelus or 'Lus or by my middle name-"

"'Lus? That's cute. Sleep now."

"Yes, mistress Willow. Good night."

He smiled and took her hand. Kissing it, he put it over his heart. She pulled the blanket up and over them and went back to her musing.

<Yup. Still surreal.> She wondered for a moment if she was going to wake to find him back in the underworld. Maybe she would go to the library and find Giles, Xander, Cordelia, Oz and Buffy. It seemed so long ago now but it had only been a few months since Buffy had bailed and not even a week since Xander had left with Cordelia in tow. Oz, he'd gone when he'd found Xander kissing her. Oh, well. It seemed pointless to think about it now. She'd felt a kinship towards the werewolf, and she'd wanted to fit in, make him feel loved. But he wasn't really loved, not a true kind of love anyway.

When she considered someone a friend, her feelings for the person ran deeper than an ordinary friendship, kin to the love one has for family members. Giles had been more of a parent than both of hers combined could ever hope to be, and when she thought of the rest of the Scooby gang, she saw brothers and sisters there: ones she wanted to care for, fight for, ones she would die for if it came to it.

Willow had originally thought that once she'd brought Angel back, Buffy would come back. They needed a slayer on the Hellmouth and they all cared for her. Now, she wasn't sure she wanted the blonde back at all. Giles was very hurt at her disappearance, Xander was distressed that she'd just abandoned them without saying goodbye and Cordelia and Oz had been irritated. Willow had tried to understand, making excuses and forcing herself to reserve judgment. Who was she to judge? She wasn't Buffy, she didn't know. Maybe it was best to just let everyone keep healing and move on.

There was still an part of herself that taunted her, calling her names, telling her she was bad, telling her it was only fair that she waited to hear Buffy's side and to not interfere with her and Angel's "relationship". It was fading. She had changed over the summer. Putting her life on the line every night and learning to work with her friends to keep the town safe did that. Spending more time searching for a way to bring the vampire back home than sleeping did that. Studying magick, learning the Wiccan ways and how to control her power did that. Succeeding in her endeavor did that and hell, getting a new wardrobe cemented it. There was no turning back now.

The Hellmouth had a new slayer named Faith and a new slayerette called Pacey, not to mention Amy was available for magick. The bases were covered. It was clear Angel didn't want Buffy anymore. This time, just this time she would break the promise she'd made to herself to keep the group together at all costs. Something told her that this was meant to be. She really did feel like everything was coming together and although she couldn't explain it, she had to believe in the rightness she'd started feeling the minute Angel was back. When Pacey came, the feeling intensified, and although she didn't know what to think of Faith yet, something had told her everything would work out.

She was in a half sleep by now, wrapped around her Angel, her Angelus. She could feel him deep in thought, she could almost hear the wheels turning in his head. She managed to mutter a soft "stop brooding" before her tired body shut down.

-ANGELUS-

Fueled by the force of his climax, the man hovered between consciousness and his death sleep, afraid that if he gave himself over he'd be transported back to Hell, literally or figuratively. He needed to hear her there, her labored breathing, her steady heartbeat, her lifeblood chanting to him as it coursed through her body. <And what a body it is>.

He struggled against the darker, sexy thoughts that waited to overwhelm him and focused his mind onto the events of the night. Everything was still surreal. People could argue all they wanted that nothing should be able to shock him anymore, after all, he was at least 250 in vampire years and had spent an equal amount of time languishing in Hell. But it seemed everything had shocked him since she's brought him back. The first one being that he was back at all. He had complete faith in Willow, it was life, or unlife or death, for that matter, that he did not trust. The Powers That Be had not been overly kind to him. His need for human blood was another shocker. He hadn't even felt bad when he'd acquired some earlier and he had even considered draining Willy himself on principle. The guy had done the world a favor of sorts, but he had sold him out. And he was greasy.

Last night, he had laughed with Willow and the new kid, had even joked about his vampiric state and sex with William -his childe and another man-. Angel would never have done that with mortals. He had also fought better than ever and had enjoyed it. Angel never would have admitted he liked a good fight, except when he was riled up. He still felt a certain pang at killing his own kind but that was all it was, a pang. The vampires in Sunnydale never obeyed the rules of the Masquerade. Whether because they were clan less, cocky, they didn't care, they didn't know their own heritage or the power of the Hellmouth messed with their minds, he would never know. The fact remains that there was no one to keep the peace, no government to keep the undead population in line, to keep the bloodshed to a minimum. The kindred who came to town were the demons who craved chaos, disorder, mayhem and murder.

There had to be a reason he was brought back. He had been over it a thousand times but had come up with nothing and maybe he was being egotistical in thinking that he mattered in the grand scheme of things. He wasn't human but he always knew there were much greater forces at work than one measly entity. He almost chuckled. <Measly. The great Angelus, king of pain and pleasure. Scourge of Europe and all that. Measly indeed.> But he was; he was at the mercy of the Powers That Be. Maybe it wasn't all predestined but something was brewing. He never liked not being in control, not when he was human, not when he was a demon and not in his present state.

He listened to Willow mumble something in her sleep. It sounded like "stop brooding" but that had to be his mind playing tricks on him. He didn't want to brood, he didn't want to be Angel anymore. He had to be himself this time. All of himself. Angelus Keiran Bailey, son of Patrick and Aideen, childe of Darla, master vampire... If he was lucky, and for as long as she would have him, mate to Willow Rosenberg.

The only obstacle that could make things considerably more difficult would be the blond slayer. Buffy. He had tried very hard not to let Willow see the animosity he now held for the girl. She'd sent him to Hell and ran away. All she had to do was cut him and throw the sword into the portal to seal Acathala. He had replayed that scene countless times and he had made every excuse. She was young, she didn't know, she thought it was a trick... blah, blah, blah. Whatever.

The pain he was inflicted in Hell, physically and emotionally, were unbearable. When he would start getting used to one form of torture, they would knock him down with another kind. He had spent the equivalent of 20 earth years in total darkness. Nothing: no need to feed and no sounds, just four walls. I had been the hardest, to wonder if he'd been forgotten there, to wonder what was happening on Earth, to want desperately to get out of there but knowing when he did the physical pain would start again. He thought he may end up like Dru. Just when he had decided that maybe going mad was a good thing, he'd been right back in chains. The only times the torture would let up was when different portals were opened to show him the world he thought was lost to him forever. People he cared about going about their lives, most of them suffering one way or another.

He'd watched powerless as Buffy made herself the center of attention. Not letting anyone forget how bad she was feeling, even if her best friend was in a hospital room with needles in her arms and her watcher was mourning the love of his life. Refusing to talk to them, she shut them all out even as she strutted around dressed in black -a black mini skirt and tank top with knee high leather boots. <It's important to look your best when you're grieving. Christ.>

She had cried real tears for him, that he knew, and she felt guilty, that he knew. He also knew that in that 'state', she'd left her friends to fend for themselves on the Hellmouth and forfeited her sacred duty without too much thought. For him, that was the ultimate betrayal. It was only 5 days before her mother had come to her with plane tickets and she took the out -murder charge be dammed.

He watched her and Joyce get off the plane in Guadaloupe. They flirted with the Club Med personnel who were pretty much paid to flirt back and were more than happy to provide 'other' services. Sometimes Buffy would moan and wail about how unfair life was, how life had taken her boyfriend away, all this more likely when she'd had one too many margaritas. However, the frown on her pretty face never stayed long, there was always some tanned hunk at her side to make the pain go away ... She was young. She was fallible. She wasn't to blame. The pull of a normal life may prove to be too strong. Then again, she may realize what she's done.

Being so far from Sunnydale, she had let her other life take a back seat to the pleasure of having a beignet on the beach, going water skiing and wowing everyone with her skills at the flying trapeze. She barely protested when her mother suggested they disappear after the trip, she didn't try to explain what exactly being the Slayer entailed or what it could mean if she was absent too long. She even said it would be nice to go to the East Cost, maybe see some snow and rejoin a cheerleading squad.

She wasn't thinking clearly, and she didn't want to. She wanted everything behind her and as much as she had loved her watcher and her slayerettes, she'd lost faith in her abilities. She knew her disappearance from her post could mean certain death for her friends but she told herself they'd find the other slayer or get the hell out of Dodge. She'd underestimated them, all of them. Watching her was starting to be equally as awful as the rest he was put through and when all the good feelings he had for Buffy died, the portal had closed. He had been relieved.

Angel knew she was in denial, knew that it was only natural that she would choose life over death. The freedom to travel the globe, the freedom not to fight, the freedom to bed every fucking guy she felt like, the freedom to see a future beyond her twenties. A lot of people would have done the same thing. Except for Willow.

The redhead was stronger than all of them. She would always be there for those she loved, she would fight for them and with them until her last breath. He knew she would do anything for them: he was flesh and blood example. Taking that into consideration, he knew she would at the very least attempt the same for Buffy and it would only end up hurting her. Bringing her back would not be the right thing. He had no right to judge. Angelus wasn't what would be called a good person, alive or undead. But he knew loyalty, he knew sacrifice and he knew love.

He had loved his mortal family, regardless of problems, then had felt fierce loyalty towards Darla and their clan, loving again when he found and made his demon childe William, his first and favorite. Darla had given him this predictable idiot named Penn as a present, and he had bonded with him to a certain extent, training him as he thought a childe should be trained, but there was nothing there. As a childe of Darla, they were technically brothers, and Angelus got bored quickly with that one, sending him all over the world in hopes of never seeing him again.

His unlife had changed after the curse. Disoriented and lost, the once feared Angelus was the one doing the fearing. He had rejoined Darla, and had sought out William and Drucilla but it was too late. William was different, colder. Being cursed, he couldn't bring himself to try and regain his relationship with his childe. He let the younger man continue to be with Drucilla and he himself stayed with Darla. He only remained in their company a few weeks. After Spike finally killed his first Slayer and he couldn't bring himself to be happy or proud, he left. He had trekked back across Europe, avoiding cities, feeding on animals and the stray human, burying himself in the Earth to avoid deadly light of day. For one year he wandered, warning mortals off with his grisly appearance and animalistic growls, telling himself each night that the next day would be his last. All until that fateful night when he had come across a being that had brought him back to life. He could never forget his face, the unique taste of his blood, the story of his life and the hope for the future he had been given. Someone understood, for he himself had been Death.

He found himself bearing his burden more easily, wandering through the New World to meet Archon Raine in San Fransisco. The man had become his family, along with other members of the his entourage and 'Angel' had a good job, a great support system, and the love and sympathy of those that mattered to him in the community. They never let him wallow too much, they counseled him, taught him and kept him busy.

In 1986, after decades of service, he took the new jet to New York City and lost himself. He felt compelled and justified in leaving. He wrote letters to his friends and left on his quest for redemption. He had reached the conclusion that he wasn't atoning or helping humanity where he was and he felt he was strong enough to make a difference. He knew sacrifice, he sacrificed everything he had for a feeling. He had been plagued with the same thoughts for years: he wasn't where he was supposed to be, his path to redemption lay elsewhere, etc. However, without his friends he had ended up truly loosing himself.

He stopped feeding on humans, which eliminated all, albeit short, outings in the sun; he stopped caring where he would sleep next, leaving all his millions in dormant accounts; he just stopped seeing himself as part of the world. He felt like an accident, a mutation, a parasite: unworthy of living above ground. He went under- the way of the Norferatu- and didn't emerge for long lengths of time <3 years once>.

New York City wasn't the best place to be when one had a penchant for severe depression. He had tried to help at first but he was overwhelmed. All the guilt and shame and self-loathing he had felt since the curse were overriding every other feeling that manifested itself. He hadn't been truly happy in San Fransisco, but he had a place there, a purpose, a routine to keep himself under control. He had nothing in New York and he was going mad. Mad at the world for allowing him to live, mad at himself for leaving, for failing on his quest to find his place. Mad he had given up so easily. Mad at how weak he was... <yes. I was mad in New York- let's move on our little soul search->

His William. As hard as he concentrated he couldn't feel him. Maybe he was too far away, maybe the changes in his own body were to blame, maybe either of them were too weak, maybe his boy was dust. Angel shuddered and quickly put the thought out of his mind. <William is not dead. He couldn't be... We just havn't exchanged blood in a very long time.>

Angelus couldn't stand the thought of his childe being weak. William had never been weak, he had made sure of that himself. He had been his first childe. The demon knew the second he saw William that this one was to be the one. He had taken several decades to train him, to mold him, to know him. He was William's God, his creator, but their relationship amounted to much more than what was the norm. There were times when he had to assert his dominance but he never lost control and all in all, they were equals, they were... William was given his undivided attention. The bond was formed and created and for the first time in his life Angelus had something to call his own, someone he coddled, someone he raised, someone who would be by his side till the day he died. William had been obsessed with Angelus from the first moment their eyes locked, and the next night, he was given a place to belong. They left the fold soon after and Angelus built his empire, with his childe at this side. William had gone along willingly, doing everything in his power to please him, to keep him interested. Then Drucilla happened. <Oh, how William hated her.> It was true, William had despised her for taking his Sire's attentions away. He started rebelling then, getting the nickname 'Spike' after an unsanctioned blood bath. It was never the same after Dru, although they did spend very good times together. What others didn't know, was that it was never about the girl. It was always about the two of them.

After he'd lost his soul, he'd been different. The demon had taken one look at his favorite childe and for all the love he felt, there was so much hate.

Angelus hated Spike for being in a wheelchair, for loving Dru, for not seeking him out after he'd been cursed, for not being straight with him. Spike had known where he was. He had gotten a copy of 'Interview with the Vampire' in the mail from him yet he did not come...

So Angelus-the-demon set out to make his life miserable, figuring that Spike would grow stronger, that he would admit he had only taken care of Drucilla because she was his last link to him. That he would admit that everything he had done since he'd come to town was done to get his attention. He knew it, and William knew it. But it seems Angelus was too much a changed man, that William was still too hurt from the first time he left. His lyova had grown stronger during that time but too much damage had been done. He hadn't even told Angelus when he started to walk again...

Angelus only knew Spike was back to being himself when he'd bashed him in the head helping the slayer.

If the blond had stuck around and the world hadn't been sucked into Hell, Angelus would have thrown himself onto his childe and fucked him into unconsciousness as a welcome back present. Of course, he would have had to chain him up, beat, torture and humiliate him awhile for helping the bitch. Then he could have claimed his childe again, marking him for all to see and everything would have gone back to normal. They would go back to being sire and childe, best friends, lovers and rivals. But that Angelus was not in control of himself and was not the man William had known, it would have ended badly.

Angel unconsciously stroked his erection at the images this line of thought brought up. He WAS glad it hadn't happened that way though. Fate had brought him here and he knew this is where he belonged. With Willow.

He did like the freedom he had, not once feeling bad for his thoughts about his childe or mentioning him to Willow earlier. He didn't particularly want to go back to killing humans, he didn't feel the need to destroy and wreak havoc on the world but as William would say, he wouldn't mind a spot of violence here and there, he would welcome it. <It's official: I still have morals. What does that make me, a bad-ass good guy?>

He was tired of rambling.

It was time to get back in the game, and he was ready.

He listened to the sounds coming from his girl and felt safe (and finally quiet). He slept.

*************************
PACEY and FAITH-

Pacey woke up from an unpleasant dream at dawn, only to find Faith in the throws of her own nightmare. He grabbed her shoulders and tried to nudge her awake but it was no use. Her incoherent mumbling and squirming became more intense. She started violently thrashing around, sobbing frantically, screaming.

"No Adam! Don't leave me you bastard, not me. You promised! Adam, stay with me old man! You fucking pussy, you have to fight! NO! You promised ADAM! ADAM!! DAD. Oh DADDY *PLEASE* wake up!!"

Her shrieking became high pitched and guttural. She kept trying to fight Pacey off, who was now holding her firmly against him to minimize the risk of injury. Her voice became raspy and gradually weaker as she called for her father over and over and over again. Once it finally stopped, they stayed there for what seemed like an eternity. He realized she had stopped struggling and let go of her wrists. She was straddling him in an instant, her right hand choking him fiercely.

That lost, wild look was back in her eyes and all a frightened Pacey could do was try to reach her. He pleaded silently and she released her grip, disoriented.

"Faith, it was just a nightmare, it's over now, you're okay now." He coughed out.

She squinted to see him in the darkness, shrugging off sleep.

"Who are you and where am I?"

"You're in Sunnydale remember? At the club? I'm"

"Pacey, yeah -sorry. Why are you still here?" She said coldly.

"You didn't through me out. I have no place to go, no place I can find anyway... When you didn't remember me- Well, I guess I should have a bruise on my ego the size of the Icehouse. *sigh* Right now I just want to know if you're alright."

"Well, you'll probably get a bruise but not on your ego. Sorry about your neck, I didn't know where I was."

"Who's Adam?"

"It's none of your-"

"Hey, I just want to know who I was choked for."

"He's- was my watcher. See, I was going after these two seriously power-hungry vamps and I thought everything was five by five when I couldn't find them, figured they'd split or something. When I walked to the library where we- I found him. Let's just say it wasn't a pretty picture. If I'd had time to eat that night I would have puked. His body was laid out on the front steps like a fuckin' offering. They didn't even bother to drain him: they ripped his stomach open and fucked with his insides. His body was still warm... I can't wait to get my hands on them. I will rip them limb from limb, I promise you this. They will die slow and painful and I am going to have a ball hearing them scream."

As the rage built up inside her she was crushing Pacey's shoulders, drawing blood. He was so entranced by her story he didn't register it until she stopped talking. Then he withered, which ended up giving him an erection.

It was then she realized the position they were in. And the pain he was in. She let go of his shoulders and laid her hands on his chest. They were both naked and she was pretty much sitting on him.

"Faith, I-"

"Shut up" she whispered.

She lowered her lips to his and they were transported eons away from the real world. She took control, smashing her lips against his and plundering his mouth as her hand went to his hair, pulling his head back into the pillow.

He let her take the comfort he felt she craved, the power she needed to have over anything at this point. He just let himself be molded by her, complying to every wordless command. He didn't mind one bit, he felt better with her than he had in a long time.

She was sucking on his nipples, pinching and biting them until they were hard and erect. Faith wasted no time in putting the other hand to good use, rediscovering every inch of his body.

Her touch was not loving like the hands of the other two women with whom he had shared his bed- or a bed- with. They were possessive. As her nails raked down his side, as her hand squeezed his ass, as it fondled his balls and now roughly tugged on his cock, he could feel the implied statement as if she were saying it out loud.

You. are. all. mine.

Pacey whimpered in delight. He had never really been needed. It was sweeter than anything to him when he grasped why he was so enthralled at the brutish touch. With both Tamara and Andie, he had been the one to pursue, to need. First Tamara; when she finally gave in to him, she taught him what she wanted him to do- to her. Sure, it lasted for hours and he learned some nifty tricks but he'd been nothing but an insecure, love-sick puppy, tenderly worshiping her, and taking direction. Then Andie; he had treated her like a porcelain doll, and getting himself off was almost a second thought. To him it had been a meeting of souls- the sex had hardly factored. His short moment of reverie was interrupted by her mouth engulfing his penis, her tongue laving him, teeth occasionally grazing, her fingers kneading his balls. This was desire. This was want. This was need. Uncontrolled. Raw.

Faith was taking him. She was seeing what she wanted and making it hers. <Want. take. have.> She plunged onto him when he had stopped moaning and it had the desired affect.

He sucked in a ragged breath and groaned his contentment. He was getting more and more vocal, gripping first the sheets then the bars above his head. He started thrusting in time with her, hitting the back of her throat as he felt himself getting closer. He cried her name as his hands moved of their own volition to nestle in her dark hair.

He cried her name again, this time in anguish, when she abruptly jerked away. He struggled to focus and saw her walk to the closet.

"So you like that huh?"

She was laughing.

He just settled back on the bed, watching her perfect form and pondered jerking off. Of course, one look at Faith, walking back to bed with a mischievous smile told him he'd have more fun if he let her have her way. She could break him after all. And she was HOT.

He didn't move.

She was looking at him like he was a piece of meat. He was looking at her like she was a queen and he was but a servant. She approved.

"Give me your hands."

When he did she handcuffed him tightly to the bedpost. The shock on his face was priceless.

Pacey was taken a back at first, but he was 17 and a devoted porn fan. She was fulfilling one of his darker fantasies and who was he to turn her down? It's not like he had a choice, regardless. He looked up at her amused face.

"Well, Pacey, it looks like we've got ourselves a little misunderstanding... Did I say, at any point, that you could grab my head like that?"

He looked puzzled for a moment and then started searching for an adequate explanation.

"Look Faith-"

"Wrong answer Pacey."

She slid back into bed and straddled him. She then proceeded to pinch his left nipple so hard his body jerked up. She would have lost her balance if she hadn't been so strong. She waited until he met her eyes and asked again. This time, he didn't try to explain.

"No, you didn't."

"Do I look like a slut to you?"

"No, lady."

He said the term reverently, no malice in his eye. Faith held her breath in disbelief. <This guy is too good to be true, too good...> Not liking the direction her brain was going, she shook it off and bent down to kiss him on the neck. A small kiss that sent shivers up and down Pacey's body.

"Good answer."

He was obviously enjoying the game, she could feel him hard as rock under her. He was at her mercy.

She started to roll her hips slightly and watched a moan escape his lips and his eyes close at the sensation. She raised her hips off him and grabbed his face.

"Don't break eye contact... unless you want to be punished. Do you want to be punished?"

"No lady."

<Damn>

She started rocking again and he did the best he could. She started moaning, his name escaping her lips as she took her pleasure, grinding against him, grabbing her breasts, sucking one of her fingers before placing in on her clit. He was in heaven, or hell. He couldn't really decide which, all he craved was being inside her slick folds and he couldn't help but let his eyes roam her perfect body.

She twisted the other nipple and scratched at his stomach. She didn't draw blood but he was definitely a marked man. He was already in bad shape from the last couple of days, but all he felt was stiff due to Willow's little magick trick. He was feeling these new scratches. His now painful erection didn't help matters at all. Exquisite torture.

"Was I not clear? Or do you want to be punished?"

"Yes, no, I mean..."

"Which is it Pacey?"

She took pity on him and descended for a kiss, igniting his passion again, only to pull away just as he reached for her. Metal clanged against metal as he struggled against his bonds.

"Naughty boy." She reached for his dick and squeezed, then placed it at her entrance. "How much do you want me?"

He moaned, his eyes dark and lust filled.

"More that anything, lady."

"Really?"

"Yes."

She moved up his body and settled over his face.

"Suck me."

He complied.

She had not forgotten how good he was at this particular task and as much as she wanted to take him hard and rough, she needed to make him wait, to make him beg- like he had her do.

He brought her to the edge and kept her there. He enjoyed the small amount of power it gave him and frankly, he was afraid she would leave him all riled up and handcuffed to the bed if she came now- not pleasant.

Her taste, her smell, her voice, everything about her was enchanting. They were both so close he could -pun intended- taste it. All he needed was a couple of tugs and he would know bliss.

As he refused her release once more she roared and moved off his mouth. He licked her juices off his lips and grinned cockily.

"Please lady, put me out of my misery. I want you so much," he pleaded.

She grinned back and raked her nails down his sides, this time drawing a bit of blood. He clenched his teeth and grunted but his eyes didn't leave hers. She positioned him at her entrance.

"Who do you belong to Pacey?"

"You lady, only you."

With that she thrust on to him savagely. It was amazing: their eyes locked together, their bodies moved as one, the rhythm building steadily to a crescendo. After less than five minutes they came together with a guttural cry. She threw her head back and he closed his eyes, seeing an explosion of color where darkness had been.

She fell back on to him exhausted, their bodies still joined.

After a few minutes, Pacey got up the nerve to speak.

"Umm, Faith... Lady, could you un-cuff me?"

She tried lifting her head but sleep was calling.

"Right now, I can't even get off you..."

Both teenagers, one more comfortable than the other, visited dreamland quickly. This time, instead of nightmares, they dreamt of acceptance, and earth shattering orgasms.

*************************

Late afternoon:

Willow was in a deep sleep. She was having a familiar dream. She didn't remember ever having it before, not so vivid as this, but she did remember getting flashes all summer. She looked around and found herself in a fully stocked library, one she was not familiar with. She felt her mind being invaded, but there was no talking. She was only getting impressions.

She was sitting cross-legged on the table, doing a grounding and centering exercise she used before a meditation, ritual or spell. She knew she had to relax to get the message clearly. When she was done making like a tree, her roots fully planted and her mind clear, she opened herself to the force.

And the library vanished and the darkness came. She awoke startled and felt around for her dream journal. She found it under the bed and wrote down what she remembered from the dream. Then she realized she wasn't on her bed.

"Ohh."

She turned around and found tall-dark-and-handsome doing up his pants.

"Angel-us. Good mor-ugh night?" She squinted and rubbed her eyes.

"It's afternoon"

"Okay, well I'm going to go in the bathroom and try not to die when I see what I look like right now. You're not leaving yet are you?"

"No, not unless you want a pile of ashes for a mate. And you look- let's just say I'd rather not be getting dressed."

"Good."

She walked over to him and gave him a quick closed-mouth kiss: she still didn't have a spell to get rid of morning breath. She hugged him and felt his erection swell. She decided to have a little fun. She placed small kisses on his chest and hugged him again, pressing her body firmly up against his. Then she stood back, took off his shirt and handed it to him. "You may need this."

She locked eyes with him and decided she liked the stunned-but-extremely-aroused look she got. She smirked, turned around and went into the bathroom, locking the door.

<She's trying to kill me> he smiled. She was going to be trouble.

Willow took a very quick shower and brushed her teeth. She remembered their talk the night before, and how he had tried to get to her, coming out of the bathroom after his shower wearing only brand-new boxers. She liked this new side of him. Who was she kidding? She liked all his sides. <Specially his back side.. Where is all this coming from? Oh yeah! Years of fantasizing and suppressed hormones.> She glanced around the bathroom and realized she had forgotten to bring clothes to wear for the day. Since she was as certain as she could get that all this was really happening, she decided to have a more fun, and see where it got her. She came back out into the room wearing only her panties and a small towel.

She did her best to ignore the vampire sitting on her bed. Going into her drawers and her closet to pick out some clothes, pretending to be interested in matching a skirt with a new top. She didn't know if she was getting to him until she bent down to get her new boots out of the back of the closet.

He growled. She stopped and stood upright, still her back to him.

"What?" she asked innocently.

He was behind her before she could blink.

"Don't play with me little girl. I haven't eaten yet."

She let out a little 'eep' as he pulled the towel away started working her with his hands. His left hand went to her breast and his right hand went straight for her underwear. He rubbed her over the material for a few seconds until she settled against him unconsciously baring her neck.

A dangerous snarl filled the room when his face shifted. She tensed a bit, then relaxed when his hand found it's way under the material of her panties. Two fingers were thrust inside her and pumped a few times while he kissed her neck, nicking the skin and licking at the drops of blood that surfaced. He groaned low in his throat and she let out a few strangled cries at the sensation of his thumb on her clit.

When his other hand ripped the panties off her, he removed his bloodied fingers and brought them to her mouth. He traced the outline of her lips with the blood and licked the rest of off his fingers. He spun her around and descended on her. Their tongues dueled for dominance, Willow's trademark shyness buried underneath the intense passion and love she felt for him. He moved his mouth to her ear.

"mmm... I'm going to like breakfast"

Again he moved faster than the eye could see and she was thrown onto the bed. He pried her legs open and delved in, lapping and sucking at the accumulated blood. Inhaling the sweet scent of her arousal, tasting her life, he purred against her. She trembled at the sensation, experiencing it fully for the first time.

He looked up to see Willow, eyes sewn shut, head turned, clutching her comforter. He stopped abruptly and waited for her to open her eyes.

She blushed purple when she saw him. His chin was resting on her lower stomach. He was game faced, bloody fanged, wearing a deadly grin. His right hand was tracing patterns on her stomach, circling her hardening nipples, his other had running along her side so gently she got goose bumps. He wanted to make sure she understood what being with a vampire would mean.

"We should, you know, we really need to have this talk..."

He bent his head back down again and licked her slit, getting a mouth full of her life force. He closed his eyes and forced himself under control.

"No we don't Angel."

He brought his thumb to her aching center and started a slow circular motion. She moaned and shut her eyes again. He stopped.

She couldn't figure out what he wanted, what point there could be to all this, and she didn't care, so long as he didn't stop. But he had.

She let out a frustrated sigh.

"Tease."

"I could say the same about you little girl."

"Don't call me little girl."

"But that's what you are right now. Helpless. I could just take what I want. Which, if you haven't figured it out, is you. All of you. I could
bury myself in your tight pussy, bury my fangs deep in your neck. You don't know how badly I want to hear you scream for me."

"Yes, I do."

She was panting and her eyes were glazed over. She could have been drooling for all she knew. His voice, low and raspy, his hands so strong and soft were making her forget everything but him. She wanted him badly, but they didn't have much time and he'd made it clear that he wanted to talk before-

He started to kiss her lower stomach, working his way down to her netherlips, carefully avoiding the hard nub of her desire. He could make her crazy.

"Please Angel-"

"Please what? Look at me. What do you want Willow?"

"I, I want you."

"There's plenty of time for that when you're ready. But I want to know what you want, what you like, what you need."

"I, I want you to kiss me... down there."

"Like this?"

He placed a hard, open mouth kiss on her clit that made her back arch and her whole body tingle.

"Yesssssssss"

"Is that all you want?"

"Your fingers, what you did the other night."

"How does this feel?"

He slid one digit in slowly, searching, then brought it out and suckled on it.

"So good Angel."

"Mmm, is that enough?"

"More, please more"

He thrust two fingers in savagely, tearing a part of her hymen in the process.

"Yesss, like that" she wailed.

He kept pumping her and brought his left hand to her butt, lifting her for better access. He caught a strong whiff of her mingling juices and decided to cut it out with the dirty talk. She wanted this, she knew what was happening and as much as he wanted to take her, he wanted it to be special, just like in her dreams.

He dipped his head back between her legs and nestled the soft auburn curls. He tasted her again and growled, the vibrations alone bringing her closer to the edge. He lapped hungrily even as his fingers continued their dance and moved to her clit. She liked it fast like that. He didn't bother teasing anymore, his tongue circled her clit before settling on it. They both moaned loudly as a small bolt of energy passed from one to the other. Again, he found himself grinding his hard cock against the bed mindlessly, as his attention was focused solely on giving her pleasure. He jumped when she spoke to him.

"Touch you, I want to touch you."

He shifted his position so his legs rested next to her head and whispered.

"Do what you will, Love."

She turned to the side and undid his pants clumsily, she was surprised to see he wasn't wearing anything when his erection popped out. She slid the pants lower around his knees quickly and circled his shaft with her hand. He was clearly a fan of the rough so she squeezed hard and started moving from base to tip at a fast pace. He cried his contentment and redoubled his efforts. She was getting close, he felt her start to convulse around his fingers.

"Say my name Willow, say it when you cum."

That was it for her. A light show waited behind her closed eyelids and when she reached the peak she cried out hoarsely.

"Angelus"

He was the next to scream out, not only at his name on her lips but at those lips encircling his cock. She buried him to the hilt, grazing with her teeth. She squeezed his ass and sucked hard on the way out.

"Oh, god Willow, oh!"

She used her tongue, her burning mouth giving him a massage like no other. The angle was amazing. He licked at her still flowing juices and she bit down on him in reaction. He cried out and came, then bit into the soft flesh of her leg and came again with an animalistic grunt. The blood flow made his last orgasm go on forever as he shook against her. She swallowed the blood-tinged cum, noting it's taste and texture. It wasn't disgusting, although she had no doubt it could be. His was cold, and tasted like him, broody, dangerous, musky, but sweet... He finally came down and removed his fangs, forcing himself to move and scoop her up in his arms. They dozed off spent, content and unashamed. Things were definitely not the same. Angel didn't apologize for biting her, and she didn't feel embarrassed for what they just did.

Willow had always been what people called a goody-two-shoes. Someone they regarded as completely non-sexual. But she was. She had a healthy appetite for sex. She dreamed about it, she thought about it, she fantasized and masturbated. She had been since she was 13. She was normal, and she could finally express her desires to the man she loved. Her head rested on his chest, one of her legs over his, spread to him as he played with her lightly, his other hand tracing the puncture wounds on her thigh. She could stay like this forever.

But they couldn't. Two hours later it was dusk and they both reluctantly got up.

They enjoyed a real breakfast in the kitchen. Willow went for your standard Captain' Crunch, while on the other side of the table Angel was savoring warm blood out of an obnoxious pink coffee mug. Both were grinning like Cheshire cats every time their eyes met, or one 'accidentally' grazed the other's foot.

"I like what you've done to the place." He said, referring to the boarded up windows and the lack of mirrors. She chuckled.

"If my parents came home," she started, then the grin left her face, "I wonder if they would even notice?" She sighed.

They spent some time washing the dishes and teasing each other before Willow got dressed and they sat down to talk as the sun set. As he pulled her down onto his lap and kissed her soundly, she felt sadness. She settled against him and sighed, reading his mind.

"You're leaving."

"I have to."

"How long?"

"No more than a couple of weeks."

"Are you going to get used to yourself again or are you going after Spike?"

"I need to know what happened to him. I could never bring myself to see him as anything other than my William, my childe and I can't stand to see him weak. It's hard to explain, especially after what's happened since he first came to town. We both made too many mistakes. Spike and Angel couldn't connect. William and I, that's another story. I have to assume responsibility for most of his actions while he was here."

"But Spike is his own man-person-demon-vampire guy. It's not your fault he did what he did."

"It could have been avoided but I wasn't ready... As his sire, I should have taken action. I was just so weak then. As mad as he was at me, he would have taken me back. I should have claimed him again, disciplined him. I could have helped Drucilla back to full strength by offering my blood, or found a way to get him to let her go. I just didn't want to immerse myself in vampiric life again, afraid I'd revert back to form, afraid I wouldn't be able to perform my duty to the Slayer and the world if I took care of my childer."

She kissed away his next words, willing him out of all the what-if's that plagued him. When she felt his mind stop spinning she pulled away and looked him straight in the eye.

"Try and come back soon. I don't like the idea of sleeping alone anymore."

"Is that all I'm good for?"

"I'm just saying you're a hell of a lot more comfortable than my pillow." She smiled.

"I'll miss you Willow."

"I know, 'cause they'll be major missage on my end too."

"You've got school coming up and Giles-"

"I'm not going to tell him yet. He'll have enough newness with Faith and Pacey."

"I'll stop by and see them before I go."

"Will you stay in touch?"

"I'll try... You have to know I would never leave you if it wasn't-"

"Him."

"Yeah. This must be strange to you."

"I feel you. I can't totally understand-"

"I will explain everything, but right now I have to go."

Angel felt the sun dip down below the horizon and they kissed their last minutes away. Emotions running high, both perfectly in tune with each other.

When she walked him to the door with tears in her eyes both were vowing never to be apart again.

The End

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