Fangdicko

Author:  Natalie Sims

Email:  NatalieSims2@yahoo.com

Parts: 11

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~Part: 11~

Willow smiled happily as the cool breeze cut through and dissipated the humid evening heat.  Their impromptu trip to Santa Barbara had ended at a small seaside restaurant, which served the most wonderful Chicken Marsala.  The remains of the raspberry sorbet she now toyed with had been the perfect complement to a delicious and pleasant meal.

Angel had been full of sidelong glances and secretive smiles as he watched her eat.  She knew there was something he wasn’t telling her, but after a few unsuccessful attempts to pry information from the tight-lipped vampire, she finally settled down and just enjoyed the evening for what it was:  a highly enjoyable night out with a friend.

 “I’m sure you wonder why I’ve gathered you all here this evening,” Angel began, humor filling his eyes at the oft-heard quote from hundreds of mysteries.

Willow simply smiled back at him, declining to answer.  He would tell her what he wanted, when he wanted.  His earlier refusal to enlighten her had made that obvious.  “Nah, I’m just here for the food,” she teased, the look of fondness in her eyes belying her words.

“I figured it out,” he informed her smugly.  She quirked an eyebrow at him as if to say, ‘Yes, get on with it’.

“Oh!”  Realization dawned on Willow as she took in the smile on Angel’s face.  She cast a look around them quickly, making sure that nobody was watching them.  Moving carefully, she scooted her chair next to his, laying her hand on his crotch.  She was surprised to feel that his not-so-little soldier seemed to be taking a nap. “You figured out…”

The warmth and the weight of her hand, which she hadn’t removed, began to work its way through the fabric of his pants.  As her fingers shifted slightly, he could feel his cock start to stir.  He might not be dosed with Viagra anymore, but he wasn’t made of stone, either.

“Yeah.  I figured out why I was having those, uh, problems.”  The busboy had arrived to clear off their table, and Angel found himself editing the words he had planned on saying.

“Oh!” Willow pulled her hand back into her own lap, but not before the busboy noticed where it had been previously.  The knowing smirk he sent in Angel’s direction made that eminently clear.

“I think we’re ready for our check,” the vampire growled, somehow managing to pitch his voice in such a way that shivers crawled up and down Willow’s spine, sending the hair on the back of her neck to attention.  From the look on the teenager’s face, his reaction had been similar.  He gave the couple a nervous glance, all traces of his earlier smirk suddenly vanished, and then hurried off to find their waiter.

Willow stared at Angel, her eyes brimming with suppressed laughter.  “Poor kid, he’s probably going to be traumatized for years,” she told Angel.

“Did you see the way he was looking at you?  Like he wanted to…”

“He’s just a kid, Angel.  Don’t you remember when you were young and—okay, bad example.”  She frowned; having a friend whose bout with puberty had taken place back in the 1700s was definitely a little odd.  “But seriously…it wasn’t that big of a deal.  Now,” she added, leaning back in her chair and fixing him with a smile, “didn’t you have something you wanted to tell me?  Something about finding the cause of your little problem?”

Angel’s lower lip stuck out just a bit as he pouted at her.  But his mood changed quickly as he remembered the reason for bringing Willow all the way out here.  “It’s Spike,” he told her, watching as her brow crinkled in confusion.

“Huh?  Spike’s a ghost…how could he be responsible for your little problem?”

He gave her that pout again, and Willow found herself tempted to lean towards him and grasp that lower lip between her teeth.  But public displays of affection generally made her uncomfortable, so she settled on giving him an encouraging smile.

“Could you please not refer to it as a ‘little’ problem?  Couldn’t we just call it a problem?  Or, a larger than average-sized problem?”

Jeez, human or vampire, guys could be awfully touchy about remarks relating to the size—or lack thereof—of their dicks.  Willow did a mental eye roll before she replied.  “As I’m sure you know, there’s nothing little about what’s under your belt.  It was a euphemism.  Okay?”  Angel nodded, looking slightly mollified.

“Okay, now, back to the subject at hand.  Can you explain to me how Spike, who was a ghost the last time I checked, could be responsible for your—condition?  Can we call it a condition?”

He nodded reluctantly.  Apparently ‘condition’ was okay.  He probably would have been happier if she had called it a ‘big fat honkin’ condition, but he’d have to get over it.

“Well, Harmony was the puppet who actually did the deed, but Spike was the one pulling her strings.  I figured it out, confronted her with it, and got her to admit it.”

Willow’s eyes widened comically as she took in what Angel was telling her.  “Harmony?!  Stupid vampire Harmony!?  Miss ‘I’m too dumb to find my way to work, but at least I still dress better than you’?  That Harmony?”  Her voice had been soft and quiet when she started, but by the time she had finished, people at nearby tables were turning to watch the commotion.

“Could you, um, tone it down a little?” Angel asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.  “I’m guessing everyone in this restaurant thinks I’m having an affair with Harmony, judging by the looks they’re giving me.  Maybe we’ve overstayed our welcome?”

Sure enough, their waiter rushed over with their check, which Angel quickly paid, grabbing the fuming redhead and heading for the car.

Willow was obviously not in any condition to head back to Los Angeles.  Spike would only need to take one look at her flashing eyes and the angry set of her mouth, and the jig would be up.  The element of surprise would go up in smoke, along with any chance of getting their revenge.  Angel had not gone to all the trouble of getting her to Santa Barbara in order to keep their knowledge a secret from Spike, only to have her blow it by going back to Wolfram and Hart and screaming at the ghost like a banshee from hell.  He would have to take her somewhere and help her cool down.

They motored down the highway in silence, until Angel spied the perfect place for them to spend the night.  He stopped the car in front of the Four Seasons Hotel, watching with satisfaction as Willow’s eyes opened wide at the sight of the white buildings with their red tiled roofs.  The sound of the surf greeted them as they opened their doors, but other than that, all was quiet.  It was as if this little corner of the world was empty, except for them.

“Wow,” was all Willow said.

Angel nodded.  It was a pretty impressive sight.

“Do you think they have a room?” she asked.  “I mean, it is kind of late.”

Angel threw an arm around her shoulders and followed the signs that directed them to the lobby.  “I’m the head of the largest evil law firm in Los Angeles.  If they don’t have a room available, they’ll find one.”

Willow wasn’t so sure, but she was willing to follow his lead.  Her heels clicked across the tiled floor as they made their way across the lobby.  She knew it was silly, but she felt like a child playing dress up with her mother’s clothes.  Sooner or later she fully expected someone to come up to her and tell her it had all been a terrible mistake, and that she’d have to leave.

But it didn’t happen that way.  Quite the opposite, in fact.  Once they understood who Angel was, and what he wanted, things moved quickly.  Less than ten minutes later, Willow and Angel were alone in a private suite, the windows open, with the distant crashing of the waves as a soothing soundtrack.

She looked around the suite they’d been given, her eyes full of wonder.  Cream-colored walls were decorated with delicate sconces, a perfect complement to the hardwood flooring and the plush sofa that faced the corner fireplace.

This was a long way from the last place she’d stayed in—a room at the Best Western she had shared with a half-dozen Slayers after the fall of Sunnydale.

Sunnydale—she could never think of her hometown without thinking of the vampire that died there, disappearing without a trace when the entire town sunk into the ground.

Spike.

Now that the beautiful room had soothed her anger, Willow was ready for explanations. Flopping down on the large, comfortable bed, she beckoned to her companion to join her.

Angel complied, sitting against the headboard, his long legs stretched out in front of him.  Willow climbed onto his lap, her arms circling around his neck.  Her fingers ran through his hair, playing with the longer bits in the back and winding them around her fingers.

“So how did they do it?  Spike and Harmony, I mean.  And what did they do?”

The way that she was touching him had relaxed Angel so much that it took a conscious effort for him to remember what she was talking about.

“Oh, that.  Well, they were dosing me with huge amounts of Viagra.  Apparently Spike found some in a desk, and convinced Harmony that it was some sort of vampire version of Prozac.  So she’s been chopping it up and putting it in my blood ever since.”

Willow’s mouth dropped open and her eyebrows rose halfway to her hairline.  “Vampire Prozac?  Vampire—that’s just—there isn’t really any such thing, is there?” she asked.  Angel shook his head and she continued, “That bitch!  That stupid, worthless, scheming ho-bag of a bitch.  I can’t believe she did that!”  Turning to face Angel, she had to laugh at the surprised look on his face.

“I didn’t even know you knew all those words,” he said, feigning shock.  “And…well, don’t blame Harmony too much.  She was just a tool that Spike used.  A gun, if you will.  He loaded her up, aimed her, and then pulled the trigger.  But she was mostly just an innocent bystander.”

“Innocent moron, you mean,” Willow muttered sourly, amazed that Angel was taking this so well.  “How can you sit here calmly and talk as if this is some misunderstanding on Harmony’s part?  I mean, she was poisoning you!  What if Spike had been feeding you Strychnine instead of Viagra?  Or—or holy water!  When I get back to the office I’m going to—”

“You’re going to do nothing,” Angel interrupted smoothly, grabbing one of her hands and bringing it to his mouth, nibbling lightly on her forefinger.  “Yummm.  Angry Willow has a flavor all its own.”  At her bemused look, he added, “You can’t go back to the office and get Harmony because she’s not at the office.  I wanted her out of the way, so Spike wouldn’t have any warning.”

“You didn’t—stake her, did you?”  A look of horror spread across her face as she contemplated the thought.  Sure, Harmony was an evil vampire, no doubt about that. But on the evil scale of one to ten, with The Master being a ten, Harmony weighed in at about a two.  Maybe a three, if she was having a bad hair day.

Angel’s laughter surprised and reassured her.  On the evil scale, he was about a one and a half these days, if that.  Of course he wouldn’t stake Harmony.  Even if she deserved it.

“No, I didn’t stake her, for heaven’s sake.  I just—sent her somewhere.”

“Somewhere?” The lack of a definite location piqued her interest.  Where had he sent Harmony?  Somewhere where she could have lots of time to sit in the dark and contemplate her nefarious deeds and the errors of her ways, maybe?  Not that Willow believed that Harmony was capable of deep thought.

“I sent her to Hawaii.”

“Hawaii.  You sent the vampire who was drugging you to Hawaii?!”

Willow was quickly becoming more animated, twisting and squirming in his lap.  Angel felt his cock stir as it benefited from the unwitting attention Willow was giving it.

“Why Hawaii?  Couldn’t you find somewhere more appropriate for her?  Like the Sahara, for example?  Somewhere she’d have to burrow in the sand and muss her vain, well-groomed self in order to avoid incinerating at dawn.”

Angel decided not to remind her that less than two minutes ago she was afraid that he had staked Harmony, and now she was wishing the pesky vampire to the Sahara.  He was finding her reactions to be inconsistent, to say the least.  He was also thinking that Willow was more ruthless than she looked, and that he sure as hell never wanted to get on her bad side.  “I was in a hurry, okay?  Under pressure.  I just wanted to get her gone as quickly as possible, before Spike could find out what was going on.  So I handed her a credit card, told her to buy whatever she needed on the way, and then pushed her into the elevator.”

Even as he said the words, he realized the mistake he had made.  Sure enough, Willow jumped out of his lap and off the bed and took to pacing the floor.

“Jeez!  I mean, yeah, okay, I see your point.  But it’s just…how come when she’s bad, she gets sent to Hawaii.  But when I’m bad, I just get spanked?”

“Because you’re so much fun to spank?” he said, raising a hopeful eyebrow.  Suddenly, mindful of bad timing, he had to struggle to squash the fantasy that talk of spanking Willow had evoked.

“Huh!” she snorted, stopping to turn and stare at him.  “Do you know how much damage she could do with that credit card?  I mean, I know evil pays well.  But we’re talking ‘national debt’ here.  It’s safe to say that her outlandishly expensive new wardrobe exceeds every bimbo’s wildest dreams by now.  And knowing Harmony, she’ll buy up every pair of sunglasses on the island—not that she needs them, since she can't go out in the sun at all.  Or she could go on a pineapple rampage and destroy the Hawaiian economy for years to come.  Or she could—”

“Stay out of our way for a couple weeks, until we figure out exactly how we’re going to punish Spike,” Angel reminded her.  “That’s what this is all about, Willow.  Let’s keep our priorities in order.”

Willow’s steps slowed to a halt as she considered Angel’s admonishment.  He was right, of course.  Spike was the real mastermind behind this.  Harmony was nothing more than a boneheaded puppet he used to fulfill his whims.

And then the depth of their predicament became clear.

How would they punish Spike?  They couldn’t touch him.  They couldn’t take anything away from him, because he had nothing to begin with.

“Well, there’s only one thing we can do.  We’ll just have to make Spike corporeal again,” she told Angel, as if it was truly as simple as that.

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