Part 27
Just seeing the girl in his Sire's shirt made every single demon-y part of him rail against the injustice. He'd been the one to take care of her while she was furry, and yet there she was, swimming in one of Angelus' big silk shirts, the stink of him covering her.
Not that he had any feelings for the girl. He didn't even know her, after all, but... what was it with the sodding ponce and women? Why did they all seem to be drawn to the brooding one? Spike growled softly, acknowledging that 'brooding' wasn't really one of his Sire's attributes anymore, but still... "So it worked, then," he said quietly, eyes locked now on the tired form of the smallish redhead.
Willow nodded swiftly, leaning hard against her Mate's side. "Yeah, it worked, all right." She sighed and motioned the blond vampire to sit down. "We're telling Amy about the changes since she got all..."
"Ratted?" Spike supplied, staring at the human form of the no longer furry witch. "Sounds like a big job, Red."
Angel tightened his arm around his own witch, a small wrinkle forming between his brows at the undertone in his boy's voice. His eyes moved back and forth between Spike and Amy for a few seconds before that slight frown suddenly cleared. "It is," he replied for his girl. "Too big to cover completely right now, so... Why don't I get some of Will's things for Amy, and she can have a shower; maybe eat something? We can pick this up later." The small bit of relief in Spike's body was enough to tell him he'd been right about what he thought he'd sensed, and he smiled. "Why don't you help Amy find a room, Spikey, my boy? I'll take my Mate upstairs and get Amy those clothes."
Willow giggled softly as her Angel swept her up into his arms again, and waved happily at the others as he carried her across the lobby and up the stairs. "Good call, love," she murmured, relaxing into her Mate's tight hold.
Angel sighed quietly, even as he entered their room and settled her on the bed. "I've hurt the boy enough," he finally admitted. "So much that I'm not sure I can ever make up for it, but... I'm trying, you know?" He sat down on the edge of the mattress, one large hand rubbing wearily at his face. "I didn't care much when the soul was in charge, but now...?" He sighed again. "Now that I'm... whole... it matters."
Her arms crept around his solid waist from behind, and she pressed her cheek softly to his tense shoulder blade. "I know, baby," she murmured, inhaling the subtly spiced scent of his naked skin, "And you'll make it right. It's just gonna take some time."
He nodded slowly, hoping she was right, then forced himself to pull away. "I'd better get her something to wear," he reminded himself and her. "My shirt really isn't enough, and I kind of want it back, anyway."
The fact that he seemed to be feeling better made her smile, and she sent him one sharp burst of love and appreciation along their link. "Do that, love," she purred, laying back against the cool sheets. "I'll be here when you get back."
And that was something to spur him to quick action, he knew. He moved quickly to their closet, finally pulling a long-ish floral dress out. "I think this'll do," he said, before stalking quickly from the room.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It had been so long since she'd walked upright that she was actually having a hard time of it. Still, she had to admit that the blond vampire helping her was being more attentive than she would have expected from one of his kind. Of course, Angel was hardly typical, either, and this vamp had been made by him, so... maybe that made sense. She leaned a bit harder on his arm as she stumbled on the steps, and smiled up at him. "Thanks," she breathed.
The little chit was kind of cute, he admitted to himself. She seemed to be entirely clueless as to what to say or do, though, but then again, he supposed that made a certain sort of sense. She'd been living as a small gray rodent for a while, after all. "Not a problem, pet," he answered, wondering what was wrong when she winced. "Pet?"
Amy shuddered slightly and pulled away, climbing the rest of the stairs carefully. His hand on her arm stopped her at the top landing, and she glanced at him quickly before staring at the floor. "I..." she began, then "That word. Could you not call me that? Please? Bad associations..."
His brow furrowed slightly while he tried to figure out what she was talking about. "What... Oh!" He could have slapped himself. Of course, the little witch didn't want to be called Pet. "Sorry, luv. Wasn't thinking."
Well, she supposed that was a bit better, although... "Amy would be good, too, you know," she muttered, even as she took his arm again and went in search of a room.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It helped that Gunn knew where Lilah Morgan lived. It helped even more that he was rather adept at picking locks. It took them barely two minutes to click over the tumblers and pop her door.
Cordelia looked around the large apartment, sighing softly at the trappings of wealth and social standing. She'd lived like this once, too, and... a part of her missed that. Not, she reminded herself, that she'd want to go back to being the selfish, vain girl she'd been then, with not a thought in her head other than the latest fashions and how she could humiliate those who weren't as lucky as she was, but... No, she told herself sternly. She was much better off now, even if she *didn't* get to wear designer originals. She had a purpose, and a place within the good fight, and... she was, ultimately, much happier knowing that she was doing good. "Okay," she said softly, "Where do we put it?"
Gunn almost couldn't believe that Cordelia Chase was actually on board with this, but she obviously was, and... that fact alone was enough to convince him that there really was a chance for him. If she could look past what was going to happen to the lawyer, then... maybe she could see him for what he really was. Not a thug; not a child of an economically repressed station, but... just a man. Still, that wasn't the issue at the moment, so he forced himself to look around him. His eyes finally fastened on the armoire against the far wall, and he nodded. "How 'bout in the bottom of that thing?"
It was probably the best choice, Cordelia admitted silently, and she moved across the room. She crouched down and pulled open the small wooden door, glancing inside swiftly before nodding. "It doesn't look like she opens it up a lot, so yeah."
Moments later, she and Gunn slipped from the apartment, taking great care to lock the door behind them. Lilah was in for an unpleasant surprise, but it wouldn't last long. No, she wouldn't be upset for more than a moment before that emotion ended, along with everything else. It was no more than she deserved.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Wesley sighed softly as everyone left the lobby without a word. He knew they all had their own things going on, but a word of acknowledgment would have been nice. He almost felt invisible. He replayed the words and ritual of what he'd helped Willow do in the basement, a wide smile finally crossing his lips. If anyone had ever told him, back in Sunnydale, that he would one day be glad to be expelled from the Watchers Council, he wouldn't have believed them, but... it was true. He'd found his place, finally, and...
He stood, moving to his office, and pulled the book he'd been reading from the stack on one side of his desk. His friends didn't take him for granted; he knew that much. They were just a bit... distracted, at the moment, and that was fine. He supposed he would be equally distracted if he had a new Mate like Angel did, or a recently transformed witch to get acquainted with as Spike did. And the bleached blond *did* need to get to know the girl; especially if they were going to work together in Sunnydale. It might even make things easier for the vampire if he and the girl became friends.
None of that stopped him from feeling a bit lonely, however. Angel had Willow, Fred and Lorne were apparently connected equally tightly, and unless he missed his guess, Cordelia and Gunn would be moving along to a relationship of their own soon. Hell, even Spike had a chance at happiness now, if the subtle signs he'd picked up on were any indication. He was happy for them all, really, but...
He shook his head sadly, turning his mind back to the page before him. This was his life, and the chances of finding a woman who could deal with the reality of the world he lived in were slim, at best. He had to accept that and move on.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
His Mate was sleeping deeply by the time he returned to their room, but that was all right. She was exhausted, after all. He dropped his just-recovered shirt on the floor, and slid out of his pants before crawling across the wide mattress. His arms tenderly gathered his woman against him, and he sighed happily as he breathed in the well-known, and always welcome, scent of her. "Love you, baby," he whispered against her ear, his tongue sweeping slowly and soothingly along her neck.
His eyes glittered gold for just a moment when he felt her heart beating faster, and he closed his eyes, determinedly forcing himself to sleep. He'd join her in her dreams, and that would be almost enough. It would do until she woke up, anyway.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Well, I still think you should talk to Wesley," Fred insisted. Her finger trembled slightly as she buttoned her shirt, but that didn't keep her from smiling at the slight aches all over her body. Being with Lorne was proving to be more of an education than she ever would have guessed, but in a *good* way. A *very* good way. She actually welcomed the small twinges of muscles pushed just a bit too far, secure in the knowledge that he was aching equally. "I had to tell someone, especially once Gunn noticed that some of the files were missing."
Lorne sighed softly, knowing she was right. His own hands were trembling just as much as hers were, but he chose to ignore that as he dressed himself. "All right, Freddie," he answered, admitting to himself that he couldn't ever really say no to her; she owned him too completely for that. "We'll go see Wes, okay? Maybe he can help us figure this out." And maybe he really could. It would definitely help if the former Watcher could give them some insight as to what the information in those files might mean. Oh, it *seemed* straightforward enough, but... where Wolfram & Hart were involved, there was a strong chance that how it looked wasn't really the way it was. Regular lawyers were devious enough; he had a feeling that *evil* ones were even more so. "We'll go see Wes," he said again, gasping at the sudden heat in her eyes when they met his, "And we'd better go *now*."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Once again, Angel found himself both amused and aroused by his Mate's dreams. She'd obviously been spending too much time reading Jane Austen, because he was for some reason riding a large black horse and wearing a very tight jacket, along with skin-tight britches, a waistcoat, and a cravat. Still, that was fine with him, because he could hear her sweet, soft voice through the trees he was winding through.
A sly smile crossed his lips as he followed the sound of her slightly wicked laughter, and he suddenly couldn't breath-- even if he'd needed to-- as he passed one last tree and saw her.
Her petticoats hung recklessly from a low branch, while her gown was barely clinging to the top of a rock, and... the small, subtle splashing should have alerted him beforehand, but he'd somehow managed to miss it.
His eyes locked on her smallish, pale form, and he slipped from his saddle, stalking stealthily across the open ground. His coat and boots were shed first, although the rest of his clothing swiftly followed, and by the time he reached the edge of the small pool, his entire body was humming wildly from the sight of her cavorting in the apparently warm water. He waited until she ducked her head beneath the surface, and swiftly submerged himself, swimming swiftly beneath the sun-sparkled ripples, to her side.
His head broke the water, even as his arms wrapped gently around her slim waist from behind, and he pressed himself tightly to her, glorying in the sensation of his Willow, slick with the water of the pool. "Hello, my love," he murmured into her small, pink ear.
She would have been startled if she hadn't been expecting him, but as things were, she simply relaxed against him, allowing his long, strong body to support them both in the water. Her arm rose above and behind her head, and she cupped the nape of his neck in her warm palm. "Hello, Mister Angelus," she purred, trying to keep with the tenor of the dream she'd found herself in. It was a losing battle, of course; especially when he rocked his thick, ready cock lightly against her behind. "Angel..." she moaned softly, turning her head to meet his lips with her own.
And this was what he'd been wanting ever since she'd finished de-ratting the other witch. One hand roved swiftly down her torso, cupping her sex, while the other rose to pinch lightly at her tense, budded nipples. "Love you, baby," he whispered against her mouth before opening his lips and driving his tongue between her own. His index finger pried gently at her, then slid deep inside the tight, hot channel he was waiting to occupy with an entirely different portion of his anatomy. His hand on her breast moved a bit more roughly, and he chuckled when she groaned. "Have I mentioned how much I love your dreams?" he asked rhetorically, even as he pulled his finger from her depths and turned her in his arms.
She was already short of breath, but he'd always affected her that way, so she didn't know why she was surprised that he did in this dream, as well. Her hands came to rest on his muscled shoulders, and she wrapped her legs tightly around his hips, smirking a bit when he moaned. Her pelvis rocked slightly, rubbing her hot center wickedly against his throbbing shaft, and she giggled happily when he moved swiftly towards the bank of their pool. "Have I mentioned how much I love *you*?" she replied softly, her eyes deep and warm on his.
Angel moaned again, and accepted the fact that he was entirely a slave to this smallish redheaded witch. There was no way around it, and even if there was...? He didn't particularly want to find it. He didn't even make it all the way to the shallows, much as he tried. No, as soon as his feet were firmly against the sandy bottom of the pool, he shifted his Mate in his arms, driving his turgid shaft deep into her perfect wetness. A loud gasp flew from him as he was surrounded by her, and he stopped his steps, just enjoying the sensation of having her almost weightless and impaled upon him. "Yeah," he finally answered, "But feel free to tell me again..." He lifted her swiftly and slammed her back down fully on him. "Later..."
Her eyes opened as widely as her mouth, and Willow had no doubt whatsoever that their actions were being echoed-- in a slightly different fashion-- in the *real* world, but... it didn't matter. The only thing that truly made any difference was the fact that he loved her as much as she did him, and... she'd already known that, after all. It didn't make it any less of a heady bit of knowledge, though. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and buried her lips at the juncture of throat and chest as she tightened around him, her legs flexing wildly as she rode him wildly. "Angel, my Angel, Angel, my Angel," she whispered against his skin, barely even noticing the fact that she'd made him warm in her dream.
Heat raced through him, even as he grunted and groaned, and strained to hold back. He could feel every sweet bit of her tight wetness moving upon him, the feeling only intensified by the water swirling wickedly about them. His eyes closed, and his fingers dug deep into her soft back as he felt her small, hard nubbin rubbing fiercely against his coarse, dark curls, and when she pulled her head from the crook of his neck to shriek out his name, then drove forward, her blunt human teeth driving deep into his flesh, he was lost. His eyes flew wide and golden, and he roared into the still air of the twilight as he pumped her full almost to bursting. He cried out again, his true teeth appearing, and held her hard as he stabbed them deeply into the scar he'd started that first night, and had made even more apparent with each time since he'd brought her home. Just the taste of her had him sobbing, but he didn't stop drinking her down; not until he felt her going entirely still against him did he find the strength to pull away.
His hands roamed slowly and silently over his sweet Mate's smooth skin, and he finally managed to move, walking up the sloping bed of the pool. He fell to his knees beside the small pile of his clothing, and lay back, holding her tightly upon him, his cock still deep within her perfection. His lips roamed wildly over her small features, pausing to nip gently at the tip of her nose, at the lobe of her ear, at the slight point of her chin, and when she stirred a bit, a moment or three later, he smiled up into her eyes. "Sorry, baby," he sighed, completely unrepentant, "Couldn't help it..."
And those very words made her smile. Still, "Good thing I've got that whole immortality thing going on, then," she teased, only to find herself stunned by the sudden self-loathing in his eyes. He hadn't worn that expression since before he'd blended his two halves, after all. "Angel?" she nearly begged, sitting up on him, her fingers caressing his face desperately, "Angelus?"
It was the fact that he hadn't even been thinking about that at the time that had him feeling like he'd betrayed her, because... in that moment, with the feelings that had been coursing through him, he hadn't even remembered that part. He would have killed her, he realized, or turned her, anyway, and... While he was a demon, he loved her as she was. He didn't *want* her to be evil, and... he honestly couldn't believe that he'd forgotten. He shook his head in disgust as she continued to touch him, only to moan with a deep, gut-wrenching sort of despair a moment later. He really *would* have turned her, and... he didn't deserve to have his Mate. Didn't deserve her love, most of all. His eyes closed sadly, and he sighed again.
Willow couldn't help but be worried when her Mate's emotions slipped along their bond to her. How could he be so sunk in misery after what they'd just shared? She couldn't figure it out, much less what she could say to make it better, but... she did what she could. She opened their link as wide as possible, and allowed him to feel everything she'd ever felt for him, from the days back in Sunnydale, through her initial time in Los Angeles; from the weeks spent without him-- after he'd claimed her-- through the first time he'd been in the sun with her; from the day she'd petitioned the Powers and found Jesse, through the moment they were currently in, and... When his eyes flew open again, regarding her with a certain stunned disbelief, she just smiled and nodded. "You're all that and more, my Angel," she said, "And... you can do no wrong to me. That's just how it is."
And there was really nothing left for him to say. Yes, he'd done something that he might have regretted, but... it hadn't panned out that way, and his Mate was just that. His *Mate*. Just as he was hers. He let the anguish drain away, his fingers trembling wonderingly as they rose to stroke her soft, warm cheek, and when she turned her head, pressing a soft, wet kiss to his palm, he finally understood. "You're my *world*," he murmured, unable to pull his eyes from hers. "My world, and more..."
Willow nodded, his words filling her with a strong sense of peace. "My everything," she responded, her voice equally stunned.
"Yes," Angel said, the knowledge racing through every part of his being. "Everything..." He sat up slowly, muscles flexing wildly, and wrapped his arms tightly around his woman as her arms mirrored the motion. "Everything," he said again, even as he felt the dream fading around him. He wasn't at all surprised to find himself in the same position as the real world bled into his vision; nor was he surprised to find his eyes still locked with those of his sweet, perfect Mate.
She ignored the fact that he felt warmer than usual, because it didn't matter right at the moment. Her love had had some sort of a crisis, and she was too caught up in her relief that it was over to pay attention to something so insignificant, especially when she could feel him growing thick and hard within her once more. Her hands returned to his shoulders, and she sighed softly into his eyes as she began to move upon him once again. His brooding moment had ended, and she would do everything in her power to see to it that nothing of the sort occurred again. "Love you, my Angel," she whimpered, even as he rolled them on their bed and drove himself mightily into her tender, yearning core.