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Part 12
Two days. It had been two days since his vampiric friend had returned from Boston with the little witch who had become his Mate, and he had *yet* to see either of them for more than a few minutes. Of course, that was understandable-- or so he kept telling himself. From what he'd read back when he was still with the council, new matings were oft-times like that. Still, as happy as he was for them both, he was starting to wonder if they would *ever* be able to get any work done! His eyes moved slowly to the main staircase, and he smiled slightly as the vampire strolled down the steps clad in what had apparently become his usual attire. "Nice robe," he smirked, although he actually meant it. The silk robe with its dark paisley pattern *was* quite nice; he only wished he could afford something similar, himself.
Angel grinned as he crossed the floor. "Thanks, Wes," he told the former watcher, "Willow likes it, too." His grin grew even wider when the man rolled his eyes. "What?" he said teasingly, "You want me to *lie*? Hell, I'm *thrilled* that my Mate likes my wardrobe... Although she *is* threatening to get me wearing colours..."
"Oh, horrors," Wesley said drolly, "*Anything* but *that*! I mean, how could you pull off that... brooding, sulking look in *colours*!" He faked a shudder, smiling again when Angel laughed. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, having the vampire being less morose. No, he told himself, it wouldn't be bad at all; he'd have to remember to make Willow feel as welcome as possible. "So... what brings you down stairs *this* time?"
The vampire didn't even realize that a soft, truly enrapture expression had taken up residence on his face-- and even if he *had*, he wouldn't have cared. "Will's hungry," he said softly, ignoring the other man's amused chuckle, "I thought I'd get her something from the kitchen. We do have food, right?"
It only took one glimpse of Angel's furrowed brow to send Wesley into full-on belly laughs. "Y... yes..." he managed to force out, the vampire's suddenly affronted gaze not helping at all.
Angel stared at the former watcher for a moment before shrugging. Whatever the man found so funny, he figured it didn't really matter. He had a Mate to feed, after all, and that took precedence. He shrugged again, the corner of his mouth twitching as he walked to the kitchen door.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Her plan was working well. Or at least, that's what the ops team in Sunnydale had reported. The bug that had been planted in the magic shop seemed to be functioning perfectly, and the leader of the team had detailed one of his men to follow each of the little group. Yes, the senior partners wanted the vampire dark; not *dead*, but... Lilah had come to the conclusion that Lindsey had been right. If they couldn't make him evil, they could at least destroy him. That way he wouldn't be a thorn in their sides any longer.
A small sigh slipped from her lips, even as she flipped through the pages on her desk. She almost felt bad about the little redheaded girl, but... She had a higher purpose, and that purpose relied upon getting the vampire out of the way.
No, the Sunnydale group was her best bet. From what her man had told her, they'd hated Angel even *before* he'd told them the carefully manufactured lies about what the vampire had done to the redhead, and while Angel would hesitate to even *harm* any of them-- due to his past with them on the Hellmouth-- *they* would have no such restraint. And if their attacking him caused his darker half to re-emerge, somehow...? Well, then, that was all to the good as well!
She leaned back in her chair, chuckling. "Yes," she told herself smugly, "This is a win-win situation. Miss Morgan, you're headed for great things!"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Fred felt jumpy, and she wasn't sure why. But she'd been feeling some sort of... *tension* in the air for the last day or so, and it was making her skin crawl. That was why she'd ducked out of work early and come to the bar. Her small fist banged repeatedly at the door, and if she hadn't been so worried about whatever it was that was making her so twitchy, she would have giggled at the look on the green-skinned demon's face when he finally opened it. "There... there's something *wrong*," she said softly, to the question in his wine-coloured eyes, "I need... your help..."
Lorne sighed and opened the door wider, stepping aside. "Well, don't just stand there, precious," he instructed, "Come on in and tell your favourite empath all about it..." He sighed again, trying to shake the sleep from his mind. If it had been anyone other than *this* young woman, he would have slammed the door in their face, but... Whatever it was that was 'wrong', it had to be fairly serious for her to have come to *him*. Hell, she still had a hard time even *looking* at him! Not that he could blame her, considering what he was sure had happened to her at the hands of his own people, but he still wished... He pushed the thought away. He doubted that any of the Angel Investigations team had any *idea* of everything that had *really* been done to her in Pylea, but... *he* *did*. He'd grown up there, after all, and... she was attractive enough that it wouldn't have been easy for her. "Drink?" he said gently, motioning her towards one of the tables, and "Well, *I* will, if you don't mind...? I have a feeling I'm going to need some... refreshment..."
She shook her head quickly, and followed him to the bar, perching lightly on one of the stools as he went behind it. A large part of her was screaming to just... *run*, not understanding the difference between this man and the demons who had... But she knew, deep down, that Lorne was different. *He* wasn't the same as those others, even if he *did* look an awful lot like them. No, he had a gentleness about him that was soothing, regardless of the resemblance to her former... Masters. "I..." she began, only to fall silent when his eyes rested on her. "I'm nervous," she admitted, after a moment.
He nodded slowly, taking a sip of his drink. "Perfectly understandable, sweets," he said gently. "Why don't you just... close your eyes and pretend I'm, oh... that prissy friend of yours. The English one." He smiled widely when she giggled, and leaned on the bar, careful not to invade her personal space too much. "Now, what's so serious that it brought you *here*..."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Giles glanced swiftly around the training room in the back of his shop, once again checking their supplies. Not that he thought anything would have changed in the last five minutes, but... he needed to be *sure*. It wasn't every day that they went after Angelus, after all-- a fact for which he was *truly* grateful. His eyes took in the assorted weapons, and the stiffly standing group he'd come to think of as family. "Yes," he finally said, "Well, I think we're ready..."
"Bloody hell," Spike said yet again, "I should be going with you, Watcher! He's my *Sire*, after all; if *anyone* gets to kill him, it should be *me*!"
The Englishman gestured the rest of the silent group towards the door, not speaking until they'd each grabbed their selected items and filed out. "Perhaps so, Spike," he said calmly, "But the fact of the matter is... He *is* your Sire. Can you guarantee that he won't be able to work some sort of... Sire/Childe thing on you? Can you promise me that with his life on the line, Angelus won't be able to *control* you?" He sighed at the rising anger in the blond vampire's eyes, although a part of him was glad to see Spike feeling something other than the deep misery and despair that had covered him like a shroud ever since Buffy's death. "Besides, if you come, too, then Dawn has to come as well. We can't leave her alone and unprotected, now can we? Some of Glory's minions may still be about, and *God* knows what they'd do if they somehow got their hands on her." He shook his head determinedly. "No. You have to stay here. There's no other choice."
He didn't like it, but the Watcher was right. The last thing Buffy had asked of him was that he keep her sister safe, and he didn't think that dragging her off to LA and throwing her into a battle with the un-souled version of Angel qualified. Still, it rankled, but... "Fine!" he said, glaring at the Englishman, "But don't come crying to me when my Sire kills you all!" His hot glare followed the man out the door, resentment still lodged deep within his heart.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Feeling better, my love," he purred softly. He was leaning back against the headboard of their bed with his witch in his arms, his entire body humming with contentment as he fed her.
"Mmmm..." she sighed, nibbling at the piece of cheese he was holding to her lips, "I was feeling fine before, too, though..." She giggled softly when he lowered his lips to the point of her shoulder, and took another small bite of cheddar. "But this is nice..."
Angel smiled against her skin, and slowly moved his mouth to the mark he'd left on her neck. A purely pleased rumble began in his chest, even as he licked softly at the slightly seeping bite. "I thought you should eat," he murmured against her skin, "You're going to need your strength, after all..." He chuckled delightedly when she shivered, and swept his tongue along her neck again. He'd have smelled her becoming more aroused, even if the increased heat of her skin wasn't giving it away, and a small moan slipped from his lips as she pushed his cheese-holding hand away.
Her fingers closed around his wrist, and she guided his hand to the plate perched precariously on the edge of the bed. She smiled when the small chunk of cheddar joined the fruit, and laughed softly as he moved the plate to the bedside table. "I think I've had enough... food..." she told him, suggestively.
The laughter in his eyes was swiftly replaced by a wild heat as she moved from him before returning, straddling his lap. His hands moved gently over her pale skin, pausing at her breasts to tease her nipples into tight points before moving down her sides and coming to rest on her slightly bruised hips. He groaned as she shifted against him, his eyes closing as her hot, wet slit rubbed against his rapidly hardening cock. "Willow..." he begged, fingers flexing on her heated flesh.
She loved seeing him like this, lost in the sensations of her body. It still amazed her that he could find her attractive, but she was slowly starting to believe him when he called her beautiful. She could feel him hard and ready against her, and she rocked her hips just a bit harder, giggling at his needy groan. "What do you want, Angel?" she murmured, a bit of smug knowledge colouring her voice as she continued to torment him.
God! She was trying to drive him *insane*, and damned if she wasn't *succeeding*! Her hot, tight little body was resting on his throbbing cock, and he just *knew* she knew what he wanted; what he *needed*, and yet... He could feel the demon chuckling within him, thoroughly amused by their Mate's playfulness; *feel* the knowledge that their Willow would have made one *hell* of a vampire, and he couldn't bring himself to disagree. "Let me *in*, Will," he ordered darkly, his hands sliding around to grasp her ass as his eyes opened, golden in his ridged face.
Her breath caught as she watched his true face slip over the human seeming, and her hands moved from his arms to his shoulders. Still, she couldn't resist teasing him just a little bit more. "Oh, that's *right*," she said, soft and low, "Your kind have to be *invited*..." She gasped loudly when his hands on her ass pulled her harder against his pulsing shaft, and heat flooded her as she raised herself above him, shifting until she felt the broad tip of his anxious cock positioned at her entry. "Come in, Angel," she almost sobbed, needing to feel him buried deep inside her. Her legs spread wide, and she lowered herself swiftly onto him, her small cry of delight drowned out by his.
Hell, she was incredible! It didn't matter *how* many times he had her, she was always better than he remembered! He watched her intently as she began sliding herself up and down his raging erection, his hands moving firmly over her back, and a growl flew from his lips when she started... *twisting* *her* *hips* as she raised and lowered herself. "Willow..." he warned, almost afraid of how good she was making him feel, and he pulled her down hard on him, holding her there. His hands slid up her back, curling over her shoulders, and he arched her towards him, leaning forward to nip gently at her breasts. He could feel her heart beating wildly, smell the blood racing swiftly beneath her skin, and she was so tight around him; so *hot*! He thrust himself up into her harshly, his demon reveling in her slightly pained moans, even as his lips slid quickly to his mark. "My Mate," he growled, driving his sharp, jagged teeth deeply into her as he continued to slam hard into her slick core.
She was in heaven. Even though he was almost hurting her in his desperation, she was still in *heaven*! Besides, whatever slight pain she might be feeling was more than made up for by the overwhelming pleasure of being stretched almost to breaking. Her fingers tangled hard in his short brown locks, and she held his mouth tightly to her as he drank her down, her eyes rolling back while he continued to plow deep into her willing heat. "Angel!" she shrieked, her tight, throbbing clit slamming hard against his coarse curls, and "Angel!" again when his next thrust sent her flying. Her entire body convulsed upon him, her heart beating so fast she thought it might explode. She barely noticed it when he pulled his fangs from her skin, but her eyes flew wide open when he pulled her mouth to his own neck and she found the open wound there.
It was her tongue probing deep into the cut he'd given himself that truly did him in. His hands flew to her ass once more, lifting her almost completely off him before slamming her down hard to accept his streaming ribbons of cool, dead seed. He grunted repeatedly, pressing his spewing cock as deep into her as possible, and he groaned loudly as her contracting core milked him dry. His head fell back against the headboard, and he moaned softly, completely unable to speak, as she licked demandingly at the slowly healing gash in his neck, one hand rising to the back of her head while the other stroked her back with lazy delight. Yes... she was his Mate... in every possible way.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Cordelia grimaced slightly as she turned down the radio, her eyes going to the ceiling as she listened intently. A relieved sigh sprung from her lips as she turned the music completely off and stood. Her feet carried her swiftly to the open door of Wesley's office, and she leaned against the doorjamb, an expectant look on her face. "Well...?" she demanded, when he didn't speak immediately.
The former watcher sighed and nodded. "Yes, Cordelia," he finally said, "We *do* need to speak with him about soundproofing his room..." He turned his slightly flushed face back to the folder in front of him, wondering which of them would get *that* job. Maybe he could get Gunn to do it.
End-- pt 12