AUTHOR: Tisienne Blue

E-MAIL: tisatko@m...

DISCLAIMER: I own none of the characters commonly associated with Buffy or Angel. That honour belongs to Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, Mutant Enemy, 20th Century television, and whoever else is involved now.

RATING: Eventually this will be NC-17.

PAIRING: A/W; S/W; A/W; A/W/S (in that order.)

DISTRIBUTION: the usual suspects, cuz they ROCK!!! If you want it and I never told you yes, then ask and I will.

FEEDBACK: please. This is something a little bit different from my usual 'romantic' crap.

DEDICATIONS: to Joan Jett and the Blackhearts, for the song that inspired this (although this is NOT a song-fic.)!

NOTES: * *= emphasis. It would be safe to assume that this fic picks up where canon leaves off, so everything that's happened on the show has happened here, too (with the usual exception of Dru being Spike's Sire. I don't like that, I don't buy it, and I refuse to have it that way in my fics... ANGEL sired the
bleached wonder!!! Sorry, Joss!!!), but after end S5:B, and S2:A it's my world.

&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

He glanced back, smiling slightly at the smallish redhead still asleep in his bed. It was hard to believe that it had been almost two months since she'd shown up on his doorstep after a particularly bad fight with her best friends, but it had. It also amazed him that he'd actually managed to resist her unconscious charms for an entire two weeks, but he'd done it somehow. Of course, the moment she'd managed to affix his soul in the permanent fashion, that resistance had lasted all of another day!

He wasn't sure of whether he loved her or not. The way he felt for her was so different from what he'd felt for Buffy, but he *did* know that he was enjoying
spending time with her; that getting to know her better every day was something he looked forward to... and that he didn't want to hurt her *or* lose her. And
that was why he was sneaking off in the early hours of dawn.

He was a *vampire*, and as such, he had long ago accepted the fact that he had certain... *needs*. Needs which he would never even *consider* asking the
little witch to satisfy. Fortunately, there was a club not too far away that catered to his kind, and... if he had to skulk off for a few stolen hours every now and again, it was *worth* it, just to keep the girl by his side until he figured out what, exactly, they were doing; what they were *becoming* to each other.

He smiled once more at the sleeping redhead, resisting the impulse to kiss her before leaving. He *had* to go... and if he woke her, he wasn't sure of whether
he'd be able to restrain the wild impulses racing through his dead body.

He turned then, slipping quietly through the bedroom door, and moved quickly to the entrance to the tunnels, thinking only about where he was going, and why.

Maybe that was why he didn't notice the slightly blurred patch of air following behind him, but it could just as easily have been because her spell was that
good.

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

She wasn't entirely sure of why she'd even *learned* the spell she was using, but she thought that maybe it was one last vestige of her childhood fascination
with the Invisible Man. She'd been all of ten years old when she'd first seen the ancient black and while film, and while she'd found it sad, she'd still been thrilled with the ideas of all the things she could have done in such a situation. Of course, at *that* age, she'd never imagined that she'd be using invisibility to spy on her lover, but...

She'd tried to be patient with him; tried to wait for him to tell her what was so important that he snuck off almost twice a week, but... it had been a month and a half, and he didn't seem to be getting any closer to telling her what was going on, and while she wasn't exactly *afraid*, she *did*... wonder. And she was going to satisfy her curiosity.

She followed him swiftly and silently, her mind going over everything it could possibly imagine, and when he stopped at what *looked* like a maintenance
doorway, her brow furrowed in confusion. But then he knocked, and a small window opened. She didn't hear what he said to whoever was on the other side,
but it was obviously the correct thing, because the door was swiftly opened, and her lover stepped inside.

She had a hell of a time slipping in behind him without brushing against him and alerting him to her presence, but she *did* manage it, barely, and she stood to the side, wide-eyed and flustered, because... He'd been coming to a *club*! She didn't understand what the big 'secret' was, not even when she heard him talking with the doorman, mostly because they were using a number of terms she'd never heard before...

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

Marcus smirked to himself as he opened the door to admit the vampire who had become more and more of a regular customer lately. Time was, he'd only shown up about once a month, but lately... Lately, he'd been by every four days or so. He didn't know what was going on in the existence the souled-one had carved out for himself, but it was good for the club, so he didn't really care too much. "Master Angelus," he said smoothly, closing the door behind the vampire, "So good to see you again!"

Angel grinned a purely 'unsouled-bastard' grin. "And what do you have for me tonight, Marcus?" he almost purred, his eyes narrowing in anticipation.

The doorman grinned right back at the man. "That depends on what you're in the mood for. Your favourite Dom will be available in..." he looked at his watch,
"About forty minutes or so, and we have a few good Subs just... waiting around." His eyes roved quickly down the clipboard by the door. "So do you feel like giving or taking tonight?"

The vampire thought about it for less than a moment before replying. "I'll take the best bottom you've got. Two, maybe three hours this time."

Marcus nodded quickly before thumbing the button on his walkie-talkie and speaking quietly into his headset. "All right," he said, after a moment of hushed conversation with management, "Marie will be waiting for you in the Indigo Room, and Angelus!" he called out, as the vampire started to stalk quickly towards the mentioned suite, "Mistress Veronica asks that you stop by to say hello when you're finished!"

Angel smiled wickedly, just the *name* of his favourite Dom making the borrowed blood in his veins race even more quickly. "I'll do that," he said silkily, his
eyes glittering just a bit.

Neither he nor Marcus noticed that that same slight blur in the air was trailing him closely.

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

( Three hours later...)

Willow was running as fast as she could, retracing her earlier steps through the tunnels. The things she'd seen were flashing rapidly through her mind, her
heart was pounding, and... she wasn't sure of just *how* she felt. He'd gone to that *club*, and they'd *known* him there, and... while some of what she'd seen
had made her just a little bit... queasy... the *rest* of it had been rather intriguing. She understood now, though, why Angel hadn't wanted to tell her.

Of course, she'd also never asked, and she was fairly certain that he didn't know she was even aware of his many absences, but that was beside the point.
She'd *thought* that they were entering into something-- a *relationship*-- yet he'd never told her that he needed... *more*, and judging by the number of
*other* vampires and demons she'd seen at the club, it wasn't a need that was specific to *him*!

She raced through the tunnel door, and up the stairs, thanking every God she could think of for the fact that he'd stayed to talk with his 'Mistress Veronica', because there was just no other way she could have beaten him back to the Hotel, and she waved one hand, dispelling the image of herself she'd left laying in the bed when she reached their room. She thought that she could hear him closing the steel access door in the basement-- even though that wasn't terribly likely, what with her human ears and all-- and she gulped before racing for the bathroom, shedding her clothes in the process. Fortunately, she realized that they hadn't been strewn across the floor when he'd left, and she backtracked, gathering them into a small pile and tossing them into a corner behind a chair.

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

There was a slight spring in his step when he returned home that hadn't been there when he'd left, and almost all of the unwelcome tension had vanished--
for the time being, at least. It had been interesting to talk with Mistress Veronica as a fellow Dom, and even more interesting to find out that she shared his opinion of Marie, his bottom for that visit. They both thought the girl was truly talented, and could only imagine where she'd gotten her training. Wherever it was, they'd decided, the club needed to recruit from that location more often. They'd actually taken a few minutes, before Mistress Veronica's next appointment, to tell the management so!

But none of that was truly important to him at the moment. No, the only thing that *really* mattered was climbing the stairs to his room, and sinking deep into the smallish redhead he'd been thinking about since he'd left earlier that morning.

He smiled, just a touch wickedly, as he entered his room and saw the steam pouring out from under the bathroom door. His smile only grew wider as he toed
off his shoes and peeled the leather pants from his hard, tight body. He stowed them away in the back of his closet, the silk shirt soon following, after being
carefully placed on a hanger. His eyes glittered as he approached the bathroom door, thinking about the delights ahead.

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

She looked back at the large, dark-haired vampire, fighting the urge to just... fling herself back into bed with him. He was, after all, everything she'd ever
wanted, and she almost couldn't believe that she was about to leave him this way, with no good-bye; not even a *kiss*! But while he was everything she
needed; everything she'd *dreamt* of, she couldn't deny that the same could *not* be said of *her*. No, there were things he needed that she just couldn't
provide, and as much as it broke her heart, she *knew* it! And that was why she was leaving. That was the reason she was walking away from him and going back to the life she'd given up almost eight weeks earlier.

She didn't expect that it would be *easy*, or that her friends would ever treat her the way they once had, but that wasn't why she was going. She knew that
she'd burned her bridges with Buffy and the gang when she'd let them find out that she could make Angel's soul permanent; that she'd spent more time
researching *that* than anything *else* in the last three years. No, that wasn't why she was going back.

She was going back because she couldn't stay with her lover; not the way things were. She couldn't go on, and pretend that she was still blissfully ignorant of
his darker urges, and while it was difficult to walk away from the kind of love-making they'd just indulged in, she just couldn't accept the fact that his sweet, tender passion was brought on by the things she'd witnessed him doing at that club. He'd gone there and gotten all worked up by some other girl, and then he'd come home and... She felt *used*.

She sighed softly and turned away from the too enticing sight of him laying naked on the bed they'd shared for the last six weeks. No, she told herself as she walked from the room and down the hall, she just couldn't accept the status quo.

Her fingers trembled as she dug in her bag for her car keys, and she ran quickly down the stairs and out into the bright sunshine of LA in the spring. She only hoped, as she started her car and began the trek back to Sunnydale, that he'd understand what she'd meant by the note she'd left behind.

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

Angel was still more than half asleep when he reached out for the warm, slender form of his witch and encountered only the cold, smooth sheets of his bed. The wrongness of that registered on him more than her getting up had, because... she was human, and thus had a variety of needs that would require her to leave his bed at odd intervals. But the sheets were *cold*, telling his bleary mind that she'd been gone for longer than was usual, and he struggled into
wakefulness, his ears trained towards discovering where she'd gone. He glanced at the clock, and for a moment thought that maybe she'd gotten up for
breakfast... or lunch, considering... but the Hotel was silent.

There was no muted heartbeat anywhere nearby, and for a moment he almost panicked. Ah, he thought, finally seeing the folded paper on her pillow, she
must have gone out for something... maybe to do some shopping. A small smile crossed his lips, because he well knew that Cordelia had been pestering her for *weeks* to go out; to buy some new clothes, or at *least* keep her company while *she* shopped.

He relaxed back against the bed, content for the moment to just... *remember*.

He'd found her in the shower, and had joined her there, taking her soft, wet lips with his own. He'd been completely unable to keep his hand from roaming
her hot, tight little body, and her reaction to his touches had been... gratifying. She'd wrapped her arms around him, and her lips and tongue had been
*everywhere*, and when she'd slid to her knees before him, taking his long, thick hardness deep into her throat, he'd thanked God that he'd gone to the
club, because... She didn't deserve to have the impulses he'd released there taken out on her, and even though he'd been thinking of her the entire time, he
didn't want to treat her that way... like an *object*! His eyes had rolled back when her small, hot hands started clutching hard at his ass, and his fingers had buried themselves in her hair, and when she'd finally had her nose buried yet again in his short, dark curls, and had swallowed repeatedly, he hadn't been able to hold back, and he'd cum, long and hard, growling her name.

That hadn't been the end of it, of course, he reminded himself, because he'd pulled her to her feet, and driven his tongue deep inside her mouth. Her body
had been pressed tightly against his, and he'd slid his hands from her hair, down her back, and when his fingers were splayed across the bottom curve of her
buttocks, he'd lifted her and carried her to their bed. And she'd been a tigress, biting and sucking at him, her short, rounded nails scraping hard over his cool flesh... hell, she'd even drawn blood once or twice! She'd bucked and writhed beneath him, and then had rocked and shimmied above him, and when they'd finally reached their fulfillments, she'd collapsed upon him, still light as a feather.

He smiled delightedly, hardening at the memory, and reached for her note. Hopefully, she'd given some indication of when she'd be back, because he could
hardly *wait*!

His face fell, and his heart, too, when he read what she'd had to say. She was gone. She didn't know if she'd be coming back. She didn't feel like she
understood him; didn't know if she ever could. But she wished him well, and wanted him to be happy.

It wasn't until he truly understood that she was really *gone* that he knew-- he *did* love her, more than anyone he'd ever known! It was an almost heart- rending blow, but... she hadn't said that she'd *never* come back, just that she wasn't *sure*...

And that was the thought that would allow him to go on; to continue fighting the good fight. And he *would*, he swore to himself... He'd fight, and win, every time, if that was what it took. And maybe, if he did his job well enough, the Powers would send his witch back to him. He hoped so, but... until then...

He moved slowly from the bed, reaching into the closet for the clothes he'd so recently returned to the back of it. He'd go *back* to the club, he told himself, and see if Marie was still available... And if she *was*, she'd be one incredibly happy little Sub by the time he was finished with her. And afterwards, he'd have Mistress Veronica remind him of just why he was so unworthy... of *anything*, especially the little redheaded witch who'd stolen his heart without his even knowing it.

It was going to be a *long* day.

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

She'd done a lot of *thinking*, on the way back to Sunnydale, and she'd come to one rather inescapable conclusion. She loved him. And yes, she'd already known that, but... the act of leaving him-- of driving away-- had truly brought it home for her.

But still, she couldn't go back, not knowing that he'd be running off to that club all the time, and not knowing that he had all those... *needs*... that she
couldn't fulfill! It was a difficult situation to be in.

And yet, she found herself remembering the things she'd seen him do; the things that had made her feel... oddly aroused, and... Maybe, she told herself, it
wasn't that there was anything *wrong* with him doing those things. Maybe it was that he was doing them with someone *else* that bothered her so much!

She sat in her car, in her parents' driveway, as she turned that over in her mind. Yes, she decided, after a while, that was *exactly* it. She didn't know how to do those things, how to please him that way and fulfill the part of him that desired that. But she *would*!

She'd *learn*, she promised herself as she got out of the car and started up the front walk... and she knew *just* the person to teach her!

A slow grin spread across her face, and she giggled as she imagined the look on his face when she told him what she wanted. She had a feeling that he'd be
unwilling, or at least hesitant at first, but... eventually, he'd come around. He *owed* her, after all.

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

It had been four months since he'd moved into the witch's basement, and close to *two* since the last time he'd heard anyone but himself in the house. Of
course, that was because the girl's parents had moved to Budapest just after her sophomore year of University.

He'd been heartily bored for quite a while now, pretty much since the girl had packed up and moved away, but... he still knew the sounds of her heartbeat, of
her breathing, and he almost laughed for sheer joy when he realized that the noises he heard above were caused by *her*! It wasn't *her* fault, after all, that the little 'Scooby Gang' had shut him out after she'd left; it was his *own*. He had no doubt that they would have continued to tolerate him, had he not defended her every time they'd said something bad about her, and he'd ended up defending her *plenty*! The Slayer alone had said numerous things that had had him screaming in anger. Of course, he supposed he should *thank* the blonde bint, because... her nasty, self-centered bile had been the thing to drive every single nail into the coffin of his misplaced feelings for her.

He'd found himself missing the redheaded witch more than he'd thought possible, and with the death of his imagined love for the Slayer, he'd discovered the
*truth*. He missed Willow; he loved *Willow*! And there wasn't anything he wouldn't do to make that clear to her.

Unfortunately, she wasn't there to tell, and she wasn't there to woo, but he thought that she might care just a little bit for him, because... she'd kept the cable turned on, even after she'd left... She'd sent him numerous video games, even though she didn't know how alone he really was these days. She'd even arranged for one of the goons at Willie's to make a twice-weekly blood run to the Rosenberg house, and... that had to mean *something*! He'd wanted so
badly to call her, but he hadn't known how to reach her, and her former 'friends' hadn't been any help, telling him that they 'didn't know or care where the *bitch* was holed up'; he'd almost despaired of ever seeing her again.

But she was *back*, and seeing as she was the only one he'd actually ever cared for, other than during his brief stint as a Slayer-whipped puppy, he leapt up
from his couch and ran to the stairs leading up into the house. He'd only gotten up to the door, though, when he heard the tentative knock.

"Willow!" he cried happily, throwing the door open and grabbing her in a tight hug, "How *are* you, pet?" His mind was racing through each step of how,
exactly, he would make her *his* when the scent rolling from her finally penetrated, and he stepped back on the landing, his blue eyes flashing golden for just a moment. She'd been with his Sire, he realized, all his hopes crashing down around him. And yet, he reminded himself, she'd come *back*, and she still smelled... *innocent*. "You look... good..." he said warily.

She hadn't realized how much she'd missed him until he was standing right in front of her, and she hugged him back, *hard*, a small shiver trailing down her
spine at the sensation of being in his arms. She stared at him for a moment when he pulled away, only to sigh at the cautious look in his eye. "Thanks,"
she said slowly, "You, too." She sighed again when he continued to *look* at her that way, then said what she knew he didn't want to hear. "It's true," she
murmured, "That's *exactly* where I've been."

He almost wanted to cry when he heard her confirm what he already knew, but... "So why are you *here*, then?" he demanded, turning away and moving down the stairs. "Why aren't you in LA, with the *Poof*?" He could hear her following him, and a large part of him truly wanted her to just leave, because he didn't know that he could stand this. He'd gone and fallen in love... *again*!... with a girl who wanted *Angel*!... *again*! It wasn't fair, he told himself. "Why is
it," he asked rhetorically, "That my poof of a Sire gets all the good ones?" Fortunately, he said it very softly, and mostly to himself, because had he been
louder, he would have missed-- or forestalled-- her words.

"I'm *here*," Willow said quietly, sitting down on the couch, "Because I need a favour." She waited until he stopped his agitated pacing, and when she had his
full attention, she continued, staring deep into his eyes. She almost couldn't make herself say it, mostly because she was afraid he might laugh at her, but
if she wanted to be with Angel-- and she *did*-- she needed some *help*! She steeled herself to the possibility that he'd tell her to go to hell, and forced
herself to stand. She moved in front of him, and sank to her knees as she'd seen that girl do before Angel at the club. "I..." she began, before raising her eyes to meet his shocked blue ones, "I want you to *teach* me... about submission."
 

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