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Part 21
Fred's eyes were wide as she scanned the information on the monitor in front of her, and she sent out a silent 'thank you' to the powers for letting her notice the screen saver flashing across the screen earlier. It wasn't actually the Willow's computer, but she was the one who'd used it most frequently since she'd come back to the hotel for good.
The various images of angels had been slipping swiftly and silently into each other, and she'd actually thought the witch had just forgotten to turn the machine off, which was why she'd been so surprised to see what was actually there after she'd moved the mouse.
'Read decrypted data', the small window had said, and Fred-- being the curious sort-- had clicked 'yes'.
She was glad she had, too, because... the evil law firm seemed to know *much* more than she would have thought. Unfortunately, though, most of it was information that Angel and the Willow shouldn't have access to. It would either make them weak, or make them too certain of themselves, and that was something she couldn't allow. Her intuition was screaming that very fact to her, and... "Oh, great..." she sighed to herself.
She could feel the stunned sense within her, and knew her thought was right. Her instincts-- hunches-- weren't coming from herself. "Great," she said again, knowing that after more than five years, there was just no way she'd be able to disregard her impulses. She'd grown to rely on that sense within during her time in Pylea. It was much too late to stop.
She'd never intended to be a conduit for the Powers. It hadn't been a part of her plan. Of course, she'd never planned on being sucked into a demon dimension, either, and she'd *definitely* never counted on working with a souled vampire, a witch, a Seer, and a former 'rogue demon hunter'. The Powers, apparently, had been controlling her life for much longer than she'd thought, and... that made her angry.
It didn't stop her from taking the disk from the drive, though, or from slipping it into her pocket. The Willow and her Mate couldn't be allowed to know much of what was on that disk, after all. It would only disturb them, in the end.
Fred stood slowly, shutting down the computer. With any luck, she'd have enough time to get some help copying the relatively harmless files onto another disk, keeping the dangerous ones secret. Unfortunately, she didn't quite know who she could get to help her. Whoever it was would have to know something about computers, and be privy to the Powers' ways.
Her skin paled, and she flinched, as she realized that she knew only one person who fit within those parameters-- other than the Willow. Still, this was more important than her own misguided feelings, and... she thought she could stand to see him again, if only for long enough to accomplish her goal.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
A sly smile had been on his lips for well over two hours, and it wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, he knew. His fingers trailed softly, smoothly, up and down his Mate's spine, and a purely pleased rumble sounded in his chest. He'd worn her out.
The fact that he was one being, finally, and not a constantly warring battle field for soul and demon was still just... astonishing to him, and that his Will had been able to accept that? Well, it just made it more clear than ever that this was exactly where he was supposed to be. Still, he really *had* loved the Slayer, in his previous solid-soul state. But Willow... Willow was the balm, the joy, the completeness he'd never even allowed himself to dream of. And she was his, which just made him... ecstatic.
He raised his head, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to the top of her red-tressed head. His life was so much more than he could have hoped for, and it was all because of *her*. Her love made him more than he would ever have been, otherwise,and... Gods, he owed her so much!
She'd given him wholeness, and sunlight, and her own sweet self, and... that was something he could never pay back. "Love you, Will," he murmured, pulling her even closer. He chuckled slightly when he felt her answering emotions through their link, and glanced down to meet her wide, green eyes. "Hey, baby," he purred, trying to ignore the tightening in his groin.
He really *was* insatiable, she realized for the hundredth or so time. Not that she minded, but... "Hi," she told him, shifting up his body to take his lips in a soft, gentle kiss. "How's the sunburn?" she asked, giggling.
Angel laughed happily, and kissed her again. "Gone for now," he finally said, pulling his lips from hers reluctantly, "I'll have to get another one tomorrow." He'd enjoyed the sensation of being warm that way; he'd enjoyed the slight pain as he sank deep into his Mate even more. And she'd seemed to find the warmth of his skin intriguing, as well.
That burn had been amazing. His whole body had felt warm to her; even his seed, when he'd finally burst deep inside her. It had been unexpected, but welcome none the less. "Sounds like a plan," Willow murmured, her fingers sliding slowly over her Mate's broad chest. She almost wanted to get up, to leave their bed... if only to prove that she could. But he was beside her, and naked, and touching her, and she could feel him swelling swiftly against her leg, and... She chuckled silently, accepting the fact that she was a slave to his body, and the things he made her feel. "What time is it?" she asked him, hoping it was either early or late enough that they could stay right where they were.
That sly grin crept over his lips again, even as he glanced at the clock behind his woman. "Just past eight," he said, smugly, "Nothing much going on at this time of night..." It was true, too. Most of his 'work' happened later in the evening; they should have a good three hours or so, he figured.
Willow grinned, herself, and lowered her lips to his long, corded neck. "Good," she mumbled against his skin, her tongue slipping out to trace his adam's apple.
His arms tightened just a bit around her, and he tilted his head back against the pillow, eyes closed. "*Very* good," he agreed.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
He hadn't particularly wanted to open the bar, but he'd done it anyway. He'd rather have been across town, at the Seer's apartment, giving Freddie the flowers he'd bought her. Of course, ideally, those flowers would have been delivered to her, but apparently it was impossible to get delivery in less than a day.
Still, he'd bought her some, and had time not gotten away from him, he would have taken them to her himself. It was his own fault, though, and he knew it. It had taken him far too long to come up with something to write on the card, and now? Well, now he had a bar full of various types of demons to deal with.
He wished he had it in him to just blow off his responsibility to Caritas, but... if he did, he would hardly be someone the Powers trusted with the skills he'd been given. That didn't mean he had to like it, though. "I'm a moron," he sighed, leaning against the bar. His fingers fiddled impatiently with the straw in his drink. The night couldn't end soon enough for him, especially considering the fact that at that time the night before, he'd been happily ensconced at his usual table with the girl who was still dancing through his mind.
He sighed again, staring wistfully into his glass. He should have held out; not let her seduce him that way. Of course, he doubted she'd known what seeing her in that jewelry would do to him, but... that was his fault, too. He should have kept that chest locked. "Oh, who am I trying to kid?" he whispered softly, "I couldn't have resisted her, even *without* those things..." It was going to be a looonnng night; he could *feel* it.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Niblet hadn't been thrilled with the idea that she was being farmed out to the Watcher for a few days, but he hadn't been able to reconcile himself to the idea of taking her with him. She had school, after all, and besides, he didn't know quite how things were gonna play out with his poncy bugger of a Sire. For all he knew, the Mighty Pouf would try to kill him for falling for the Slayer.
Of course, the girl hadn't returned his feelings even slightly, but that wasn't really the point.
But Angel had Red; had Mated her, apparently, so maybe... maybe it would be all right. It wasn't like he was going there uninvited, after all.
He glanced into the rear view mirror, making sure the rat was still in its cage, and that that cage was still firmly fastened to the back seat. He couldn't help wondering what the big deal was about the bloody rodent, but that wasn't really his problem. Red needed her rat, Red got her rat. That was the way it worked. Hell, he figured it was pure luck that had kept the whiny little blonde witch from starving the poor animal to death.
He hadn't seen or heard of the nasty bint in days, he realized with a bit of shock, and that was definitely odd. The lying little bitch was usually all over the Scooby Gang. He wondered, for just a moment, if maybe something had happened to her. Bloody hell, he hoped so. She'd almost killed Red, after all, even if she *was* trying for his bloody prick of a Sire.
Oh, well, he thought, with a great deal of amusement, if something *had* happened to her, he'd find out eventually, and if nothing had? Well, he still had some connections in demon society... maybe he could arrange something.
Yes, he decided, speeding down the highway, that was exactly what he'd do. After he delivered Red's rat, of course. First, though, even before that... he needed a drink.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
She stood outside the door to Caritas, trying to decide whether she was a fool for going there. Lorne wouldn't want to see her yet, she knew, but... she really *did* need his help.
She'd seen the impressive computer in his rooms, and he definitely understood about the Powers, and... She was afraid.
What if she saw him again and couldn't control herself? What if she threw herself at him, and... And he was such a *nice* demon, he'd probably let her touch him, and maybe even *have* him again. He wouldn't want to, but he probably would, and.. She didn't know if she could handle that.
Still, she really needed help with the disk, and there wasn't anyone else she could ask.
Fred sighed deeply, and steeled herself to seeing him. She would manage somehow. She was strong, wasn't she? She'd survived those years in his home dimension with her sanity relatively intact, and... she was strong. She could do this. A sharp nod, and she reached out, pulling the door open.
She stepped through the doorway, her eyes scanning the smoky club, and she forced herself not to smile when she saw him at the bar. She could do this, she reminded herself over and over as she approached him, she could *do* this. "Lorne," she began, stopping beside him, only to find her voice stilled when he turned those wide, glowing red eyes to her. I can't do this, she thought frantically.
He wasn't entirely sure that he was even awake, because... "Freddie?" he demanded, reaching towards her. His nostrils flared, even as he felt the red flush beginning at the tops of his ears. His eyes narrowed, and he took a step forward as she took a step back. She was scared, he thought. But why? "Freddie," he said again, all his hope and need clear in that one small word that seemed to freeze her in place. His fingers finally closed almost desperately around her upper arms, and his eyes locked intently on hers, his hearts almost stopping at the look he saw there. "Freddie..." one more time, almost a whimper.
Gods, he was *touching* *her*! By choice! And his eyes were hot, his hands cool on her skin, and she had to get *out* of there! But his voice... his voice was so... rough, and hopeful, and... despairing? She felt like she'd just been hit in the head with a board, because... maybe he hadn't been relieved to find her gone? Maybe... maybe he'd actually wanted her to *stay*? It was too much to hope for, and yet... "Lorne..." she couldn't help whispering. Her eyes grew even wider at the shaky breath he released, but... she had to remember why she'd gone there; had to keep herself from hoping too much. So, "I- I need your help," she managed to say.
Oh, he'd *help* her all right. He'd help her right back into his bed, and he'd never let her leave it again. But first... first, he had to get her there, didn't he? His eyes closed for one very long moment, and he forced himself to calm down enough to speak normally. "All right, precious," he told her, letting one of her arms go, "Why don't you come into the back, and tell Lorne all about it, hmmm?" He swallowed hard when she hesitated, but he wasn't about to let the chance slip by. "I'm guessing there's a story behind this, right? And you have to admit, sweetness, it's a little loud out here."
Her eyes followed his gesture, and she noticed for the first time that it really *was* a bit noisy, what with the trio of Cartach demons on stage singing 'Bye, Bye, Bye', so she nodded slowly. "Oh. Yeah. Okay." she said, amazed that she'd even been able to form the words. She let him lead her silently to the door to his rooms, trying to ignore the sensations his hand on her arm was causing.
His entire body was humming in anticipation, even while he wondered if maybe he'd been wrong. Maybe she didn't want anything more than what they'd already shared. His eyes hardened slightly, as he realized... it didn't matter. If she didn't want him, he would make her. She'd roused some hidden part of his psyche, and Powers be damned, he was going to keep her. It would be better if she stayed willingly, but... No, he told himself. She *had* to still want him. He could see it, sense it. And she'd given him everything already. He wasn't prepared to let her deny what that had to mean. He ushered her into his rooms, closing the door firmly but gently behind her, his eyes traveling needily down her back, and up again.
She could feel him looking at her, and felt her barely present control starting to slip. This was going to be harder than she'd thought. "So," she began, reaching for her pocket, and the disk concealed there as she turned. She had time to suck one desperate breath into her lungs before her lips were sealed to his.
He couldn't help himself, and he didn't even want to try. His mouth covered hers desperately, his tongue sweeping between her lips, and when she was suddenly pressed tightly to him? He groaned almost silently, the sound swallowed by her demanding kiss. His arms closed harshly around her, claw-tipped fingers grasping wildly at her sweet, toned flesh, and he moaned at all the fabric between them. He forced himself not to gasp as she pulled him to the floor, only to let that gasp happen when he felt her soft, warm fingers at the button of his pants. "Fred!" he cried, dragging his mouth from hers.
She'd been a fool, thinking she'd be able to resist the temptation. There was something almost primal in the need she was feeling, and damned if she could control herself. She didn't really understand what was happening or why, but... it took her all of three seconds to decide she didn't care. He'd started this by kissing her, and she was for damned sure going to make sure he finished it, too. "Krevlorneswath," she declared, in response to her name on his lips. She tugged anxiously at his trousers, pulling them to his knees when he arched up a bit.
He'd had no idea that his claw-like nails were strong enough to tear denim, but they were, because her jeans were hanging in shreds from her body. It took one more careful swipe to rip through the double layer of the waist band, but damned if it didn't work well. His eyes were almost as wild as hers were, he was sure, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered except the fact of what was about to happen, right there on his living room floor. He lifted his hips again when he felt her hands at his boxers, and he truly hoped she wasn't overly attached to the panties he tore from her hot, smooth flesh. If she was, he decided in a short moment of clarity, he'd just have to buy her some new ones. That clarity disappeared entirely, though, when she pressed herself down on him, and rolled, pulling his tense, needy body over her. "Freddie...?" he said, almost a sob.
"Lorne," she moaned back, opening herself fully to him. Her eyes grew wider and wider as she felt him thick and hard against her, and finally closed, for just a moment or three, as she arched against him, taking him slowly and fully into her. When they opened again, it was to stare in wonder at the shocked and dazed expression on his red-streaked face. "Lorne," she said again, more of a whisper than anything else.
If he'd had to think about what was happening, he'd have been frozen there, encased in her slick heat, forever. As it was, his body seemed to know what to do, regardless of the fact that he'd never been in this position before. A tiny part of his mind took note of the fact that she hadn't lied to him, because... there was no pain for her this time, and he was glad. But that part of his mind was the *only* part not caught up in the sensation of being deep inside this amazing human woman who-- for some reason he'd never understand-- chose to give herself to *him*. He wasn't complaining, though; not hardly. His hands slid under her arms, finally fastening almost roughly on the tops of her shoulders as he moved slowly, deeply, fully within her.
She wished she'd taken the time to remove his jacket and shirt, but... he was inside her, his hands hard on her, and... she suddenly didn't care. Whatever was happening had been building all day, and obviously not just within her. She didn't know what it meant, but... A loud gasp flew from her as he pulled back and filled her completely again. She'd think about it later, because she'd be damned if she could string two thoughts together right then. Her eyes locked on his, and her fingers rose to trace the glowing red lines in his face before moving swiftly to the back of his neck. "Lorne!" she cried, her legs wrapping tightly around his thrusting hips.
His head dropped to the crook of her neck, and he focused on making the moment last, but it was hopeless. He couldn't help himself; not when she was so tight, and warm, and wet around him. Not when she was beneath him, her heels drumming wickedly against the pleasure-knobs in his back through his jacket. Gods, what he wouldn't give to be entirely naked with her! He gasped harshly when he felt her becoming even tighter around him, and her short, sharp cry was more than he could bear. His hips moved faster... harder... and he screamed deliriously as that feeling swept over him once more. He arched hard, pressing himself as deeply within her as he possibly could. Hell, if he could have melted into her in that moment, he'd have done so happily. "Oh... Gods..." he sobbed against her neck, every inch of his body throbbing blissfully.
Fred nodded wonderingly, in perfect agreement. It had been even better than the night before. The way he moved with her-- within her-- had made her feel things she couldn't even begin to describe. Her hands slid down his fabric-covered back, and slid up beneath his clothing to move in small, simple circles against his softly scaled back as she unlocked her ankles, and let her legs slide to the floor beneath them. "I wonder if it would be like that with a human..." she mused, unaware that she was speaking out loud until he lifted his head and snarled at her.
"You'll never find out," he told her, anger raging through his blood even as his hearts thumped furiously. "You will *never* know!" He slammed his lips to hers roughly, claiming every part of her sweetness for himself. He couldn't let her think she'd ever have anyone else; it just wasn't in him. He'd felt cold and empty from the moment he'd woken without her. He wasn't going to feel that way ever again; he just had to make sure she understood that.
He was so possessive. So demanding. So implacable. And she loved it. She could barely make herself believe that he wanted her, even after what had just happened, but... She sighed contentedly, meeting his angry kiss with accepting sweetness, and when he finally calmed a bit, and pulled back to look at her, she nodded. They had a lot to talk about, not the least of which was the question of what she would wear when she went home-- her pants were a shredded mess, after all-- but they'd figure it out. There were sure to be problems; she was pretty sure that he knew that, too, but... "Oh!" she cried, remembering why she was there in the first place, "I need you to help me with something!"
Lorne sighed, the whirlwind of emotions exhausting him. Still, he couldn't afford to sleep, or not yet, anyway. He'd help his Freddie with whatever it was she needed, and then... well, then he still had a bar full of demons to deal with. He sighed again, and forced himself to move from atop his girl's soft, warm body. It wasn't until he'd fastened his pants again that he realized exactly what he'd done to Fred's clothes, and he groaned again. He'd give her something to wear, of course, if only so she could go to the apartment she shared with the Seer to get some things to bring back, but... The minute she stepped out into the bar in his clothing, the entire demon community of Los Angeles would know *exactly* what had been going on in his rooms. Of course, that meant they'd stay away from his Fred, so... he could deal with a little embarrassment.
Fred smiled when he handed her the large pair of sweat pants. They would look ridiculous on her, but... they'd do to get her home in, anyway. First, of course, they had to deal with that disk; then she'd say good night and head out.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Spike rolled his eyes, throwing a few crumpled bills down on the bar. Not that it wasn't a nice little club, because it was. He could handle the fact that it was a sanctuary of sorts, although that did eliminate the opportunity for a good brawl; he could even handle the curiously talentless demons who insisted upon singing. What he *couldn't* take, however, was listening to the other customers gossiping about the sodding ponce who owned the place.
Besides, he didn't see what difference it made if the git had a boyfriend. Demons tended towards swinging both ways to begin with, so why the bloody hell should he care? Still, it was all anyone there was talking about, like they were shocked or something.
He almost wanted to stick around, just to get a look at the prancing sod and his human boy-toy, but... how interesting could people called 'the Host' and 'Fred' be, after all?
He stood up, quickly draining his glass, and walked from the club. He still needed to get the rat to the Hyperion, in any case, but maybe he'd stop back at the bar later.
He glanced at the sign over the door one more time as he started the
car. "Caritas," he sneered, "Stupid name for a bar, anyway."