SERIES: Passing Time (#24)
AUTHOR: Tisienne Blue
E-MAIL: tisatko@msn.com
DISCLAIMER: Joss Whedon and David Greenwalt own all characters associated with BtVS and AtS. I am using them without permission, and receive no compensation for my efforts.
RATING: R-ish, this part, I think.
PAIRINGS: A/W/Liam; S/C.
DISTRIBUTION: the usual places, as well as my site.
FEEDBACK: please, assuming any of you remember this.
DEDICATIONS: to those who DO remember, and still like this series. Also (as always) to Jeannette and Nat, for all their work on the site!!!
NOTES: Pretty much AU. It's 2007, Willow lives at the Hyperion, and is mated to Angel and Liam (alternate timeline version of Angel-- non-vampy, but Eternal). Spike is with Cordelia (cuz I just like them together in this one...). The Powers have some plans for our main threesome, though, and things could get rather sticky for them soon. * *= emphasis.
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Cordelia gazed sadly at the shreds of fabric that had recently been a very nice little corset and thong combination. Of course, she should have expected Spike to rip it from her body, rather than just unlacing it. He was an impulsive sort, after all. Impulsive and naked, she reminded herself, and entirely *hers*. Her lips twitched into a sly grin when his cool body shifted against her, and her hand moved in abstract patterns over his pale skin.
His own smile was firmly in place, and completely wicked. "Like that little number you had on, pet," he murmured silkily, one leg sliding over hers. "You should get more like that..."
Her chuckle was almost disbelieving, but she'd never managed to deceive herself as to her Mate's character, so she shrugged. "Not likely," she said after a moment, "That was *expensive*, even if I did buy it on sale. I'm not gonna spend that kind of money on something that's just gonna get torn up like tissue paper!" She chuckled a bit more at his disappointed pout, and darted closer, taking his full bottom lip between her teeth.
His eyes closed at the sensation, and when she eventually released his lip, he claimed both of hers as his own in a deep, penetrating kiss. His fingers crept into her hair as he manoeuvered himself above her. "But I *like* ripping things apart, love," he told her, barely an inch from her mouth, "And I *especially* like ripping them apart when you're wearing them. It's like opening a prezzie, y'know?"
Her despairing sigh became a long, shuddering breath when he rested his hardening shaft against her lower belly, and she groaned. "So the only way to save my wardrobe is to stay naked all the time?" she teased, her heart racing from just he feel of him on her.
Spike tried to look thoughtful, but he couldn't quite pull it off. Not when he could smell the thickening need rolling from her. "Sounds like a plan, love," he agreed, even as he slid one knee between her legs, then the other. He wasn't at all surprised when her legs flew wide and wrapped gently around his waist. He also wasn't surprised by the deep moan she let loose as he sank fully into her perfect, tempting heat. "Love you, baby," he groaned, meeting her soft brown eyes with his own suddenly golden ones.
"You too, Spike," Cordelia sighed, even as she rocked up into his slow thrusts.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It had taken the combined efforts of Angel, Willow, and Liam to convince Gunn that his friend Wesley was actually his friend Wesley again, but they'd managed it. The tall black man wasn't sure he fully understood what 'Thobian Imps' were, but he figured it didn't much matter, as long as they weren't living inside the Englishman anymore.
The two Warriors and their Mate were much more forgiving than *he* was, though. He was sure he wouldn't have been able to forgive the former watcher if the man had tried to kill *his* woman.
Fortunately, that wasn't an issue, though. He'd just have to be sure to keep a close eye on *all* his human friends, now that he could recognize the symptoms.
None of which helped with making the decision he was faced with. His eyes trailed anxiously over the page in front of him, and he swallowed hard. "Okay," he said to the green-skinned man standing beside him, "Number A-12."
Lorne almost chuckled, but... considering what he already knew about Charles Gunn and the feelings the vampire hunter had for the recently Mated Seer, the song was surprisingly appropriate. "Fine," he breezed, in his usual carefree voice, "'I Can't Get No Satisfaction' it is. And don't think you're the only one, tall, dark, and dangerous. It's tough all over."
A bemused smile creased Gunn's face as the demon walked away to key in the selection. He'd been feeling a little superfluous at Angel Investigations lately; maybe the reader-demon could give him some direction.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The young woman standing in the lobby of the Hyperion definitely *looked* like she needed help, but something about her set off Wesley's 'bullshit' alarm. He still strode down the stairs, though, glad that Angel and Liam's clothes were a reasonably good fit. They certainly looked more professional than the... highly questionable outfit he'd chosen to wear in the depths of his imp-induced insanity. "Yes?" he said, moving to his usual spot behind the front desk, "May I help you, Miss...?"
The blonde barely kept herself from laughing at the pathetically hopeful man. But she was there for a reason, after all, and antagonizing him wouldn't help her; at least not until she knew if he was important. "Michaels," she offered, to the expectant tone of voice, "Hope Michaels. I'm looking for a Willow Rosenberg?"
His frown barely surfaced for an instant, but that was all right because she hadn't been looking at him, so he forced it quickly away. "Ah. Yes. Well. Are you... a *friend* of Willow's, then?" He somehow didn't think so. This girl didn't seem the type.
"No," Hope said swiftly, her eyes still darting about the large lobby, "We've never met. I... I have an offer for her, from... Well, from a group I'm a part of. Is she in?"
Everything within him was telling him to keep this young woman as far away from Willow as was humanly possible. Of course, it hadn't been long since all of him was screaming that the little witch had to die. Still, Willow Rosenberg wasn't his to protect, so he did the only thing he *could* do. "Just a moment," he said, trying to sound as foolish as he could, "I'll check."
The blonde watched as the prissy man picked up the phone, a sly smile twitching her lips as he spoke into the receiver.
"Angel," Wes said softly, "There's a woman here looking for Willow. Do you know if she's home?" He smiled slightly and nodded. "Yes, quite. I don't think it would be polite to keep her waiting, either." He forced yet another 'helpful' look onto his face as he hung up the phone. "Her... friend... is looking for her. It shouldn't be more than a minute. Have a seat." He waited until the girl did as he'd invited, and cock his head to the side. "Would you care for some coffee?"
Hope shook her head quickly. "No, no coffee, but... thanks." She hated having to be polite to this man who was obviously nothing more than some office worker, but it was necessary for the moment. Of course, once she got her hands on the witch, that would change. She settled back in her chair and waited as patiently as she could.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Mathry!" Sionelle cried, reaching through the ether to tug at his awareness, "Mathry!"
His eyes were slightly wild as he coalesced beside her, glancing about them for whatever had caused her to 'page' him. When he saw nothing, the tense lines of his material form relaxed a bit, and his brow creased in annoyance. "What, sister?" he demanded, "I was on the fourteenth hole with Arnold Palmer!"
The female rolled her eyes, still not understanding the male obsession with golf. "So sorry," she said, her tone making it clear that nothing could be further from the truth.
Mathry sighed and forced himself to calm somewhat. It wasn't fitting, after all, that a being like himself should get so riled over something so... human. Still, "I was eight strokes ahead," he muttered.
Sionelle sighed and shook her head sadly. "I thought you might like to see this," she told him, gesturing at the image in the scrying pool.
"They can't really be that stupid, can they?" he asked, after getting a good look at what was happening in the lobby of the Warriors' hotel, "I mean... can they?"
"I don't know, brother," the female Oracle said softly, "But we knew it was starting. I guess it's time *they* did, too."
Mathry nodded and sat down on the edge of the pool, his golf game long forgotten as he watched events unfold.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Angel hung up the phone and gazed lovingly at his Mates. They really were amazing to him, and he still wasn't over the fact that they chose to be with him. That they'd willingly linked themselves to him, and to each other. Still, that was the way it was, and he was glad.
Liam chuckled slightly at the distracted look on his vampire's face, well aware of what the other man was thinking. "What was that all about?" he asked, deliberately cutting into his Mate's thoughts.
The vampire jumped slightly, then smiled sheepishly. "Sorry," he said, completely unrepentant. It was his fault that he so frequently got caught up in the wonder of his loves; it was theirs, for being so very remarkable. Well, that was his story, anyway, and he was for damned sure sticking to it. "Oh. There's someone downstairs looking for Willow." He shook his head when the redheaded witch stood, and moved swiftly to her side. "Wesley doesn't trust her," he added, "I could tell."
Willow frowned slightly, not sure of how she felt about that. On the one hand, she trusted Wes' instincts, but... No, she *did* trust the former watcher. It was the idea that someone untrustworthy would seek her out in her home that had her flustered. Still, "Maybe I should just go see what she wants, then." she announced, frowning more deeply when both her Mates shook their heads.
"No, Will," Liam said softly, one hand rising to cup her cheek. His thumb stroked softly over her cheekbone, and he shook his head again. "If she's up to something, then it stands to reason she came her prepared to deal with you." His eyes tracked up to meet his other Mate's. "The same goes for you, Angel. You're a known quantity, after all."
The redhead saw where Liam was going with his carefully chosen words, and while she couldn't exactly disagree, she still shook her head. "Maybe so," she admitted, "But... if she's some sort of a trap, or even just a *threat*, there's no way for you to find out." She pulled away from the two identical men and started for the door. "I'll be careful," she said into the stunned silence, and strode out into the hall.
Liam's eyes were wide, even as he and Angel started after her. "Gods," he said softly, "She has one, too."
The vampire knew exactly what his human-self was talking about. "The infamous 'resolve face'. Yeah. I'm hopeless against it."
The Eternal Warrior only nodded, even as he sped up his steps. Damned if he'd let any Mate of *his* head off into Gods-knew-what without him. That Angel felt the same way was a given.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Spike was snarling, even as the phone was answered on the other end. His rough voice cut through the usual greeting, and he glared at the floor as though it had offended him. "Keep Red away from some blonde bint, Wussy," he demanded, although he wasn't sure of what the former watcher was doing free. "She's bad news." He slammed the receiver into its cradle, and he forced his human features onto his face as he turned back towards the bed. "There, pet," he said softly, crawling beneath the covers and pulling his girl to his side, "They're warned, okay?"
Cordelia nodded slowly, reveling in the coolness of his skin against her forehead. "Thanks, Spike," she whispered, even that small effort making her cringe. Her tense expression started fading as his cool, gentle fingertips moved soothingly over her face, and she sighed quietly a few minutes later. "Sorry about that..." she said.
The blond frowned, his blue eyes filled with concern. "Don't worry about it, baby. 'S not your fault, although if I ever meet these 'Powers' of yours, I'm gonna have a thing or two to say." He smiled slightly at her almost frightened gaze. "Their timing could be better, y'know? I mean, to take you from 'Yes, Spike, yes! Harder, harder, you big hunk of a handsome vampire' to 'Arrrgghhh... my head, my head' is just a bit... *rude*, in my opinion." He could see his Mate's eyes growing lighter; feel her pain fading as amusement replaced it. "They could at least give you enough notice that I don't think I'm hurting you. Maybe a little bell or something. You know. Or... a really good orgasm would work, too..."
The Seer couldn't help laughing, her arm sliding across his defined abdomen and holding him tight. "Oh, God. No! If I had to have a *vision* every single time I came?" She shuddered melodramatically. "The idea, alone, is enough to put me off sex forever!"
"Good point, love," he purred, pulling her sweet, warm body over his. "But that particular 'forever' is gonna have to start in your *next* lifetime, right?"
As much as she would have loved to tease him a little more, she just couldn't. Not when he was hard beneath her, and not when she'd been so close before the images had flooded her brain. "Right," she agreed, sliding back to impale herself roughly on her vampire's throbbing cock.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Hope's patience was rapidly wearing thin, so when she heard the quick steps coming down the stairs, she was more than ready to do her job. A small smile spread across her lips, and she stood. "Willow Rosenberg?" she asked the cute little redhead, well aware of the fact that it was she, "Hi. I'm Hope. Hope Michaels." She stepped forward, hand extended, only to be kept from touching the girl by the tall, dark man who suddenly appeared behind her. His arms wrapped around the witch, and he pulled her back.
Willow smiled slightly, silently agreeing with Wesley's opinion. Whoever this girl was, she hadn't come by to make friends. Still, "Yes, I'm Willow," she admitted, leaning back into her Mate's strong embrace. "Can I help you?"
And that was the question she'd been waiting for. Her window of opportunity for the touching spell had closed the moment the girl'd backed away. It didn't matter that she'd been pulled by someone else, only that the motion had implied a rejection. Her carefully crafted story was plan B. "I hope so," the blonde said quietly, "Can... can we sit down? It's... complicated."
The redhead nodded and moved towards her favourite couch, smiling happily when her Mate sat down beside her. She wasn't entirely sure of where her *other* Mate was, but she could feel him nearby, probably listening to their every word. "So..." she prompted, "The complexity?" Her eyes widened as this 'Hope' person spun her a tale of covens and lost members, and good works left undone without the full complement of elements. It was a good story, and one she might have believed-- a decade earlier. Obviously, whoever the woman was, she thought Willow was completely naïve. Too bad she wasn't. She barely kept herself from laughing when the blonde finally got to the point of the whole farce.
"So, basically, I just need to know which aspects you're grounded in," Hope finished, "So we can figure out how you'd fit with our group. I mean, it wouldn't do to have more than one member with the same aspects, you know?" She smiled her most innocent, disarming smile, sincerity oozing from her every pore.
"What if I *do* duplicate other members?" Willow asked. Curious as to what kind of answer she might get.
The girl frowned slightly, even as she searched for a response. The mark wasn't supposed to be smart, damn it! "There are... other groups," she finally said. "If you're not right for ours, then... we could send them along to you..."
And that was finally too much. She couldn't hold back any longer. "You're kidding, right?" Willow chortled, her eyes twinkling merrily as she laughed against her Mate's strong body. "*That's* your big *line*? And I'm supposed to what? Just *tell* *you*?" The stunned look on the other woman's face was enough to make her laugh even harder. "Not gonna happen," she smiled, standing when her love did.
"What are you... No! You *have* to!" Hope shrieked.
The redhead's eyes narrowed, and she was suddenly all business. "I don't *have* *to* anything," she hissed, glaring at the girl. "Not for you, anyway. The only things I *have* *to* do are my job, and stay the hell away from *you*. I don't know what your game is, but I'm not playing."
It was the very serious tone of the girl's voice that drove Hope to what would be the stupidest thing she'd ever done. "Fine," she hissed, even as she grabbed the tall man's hand and spoke the words she'd prepared. Her eyes flew wide when nothing happened, and she stepped back, a look of stunned disbelief on her face. "You're not dust..." she muttered.
"Observant, aren't you?" Liam said, even as he reached out and snapped the girl's neck. He heard Angel's shocked gasp from the top of the stairs, and knew the vampire was surprised by his swift action, but... He sighed in relief when Willow only squeezed his arm tighter. At least *she* understood. He turned slowly, facing the angry form of his other Mate.
Liam had killed a human, and for no apparent reason. He couldn't understand it; it didn't make sense. But it made him more furious than he'd been in a very long time. He barely touched the stairs in his hurry to confront his Mate, and he wasn't at all comforted by the lack of regret in his human-self's dark eyes. "Why?" he demanded, pulling his witch to him. Or trying to, because she wasn't letting go of Liam.
"Angel, you don't understand," Willow cried, all of her emotions in her eyes. "He did it for *you*!" She lowered her voice when she saw her vampire was listening. He *wanted* to believe her; she could tell. "That... girl," she said, all her hatred clear in her tone, "She thought Liam was you, Angel. She had a spell that was supposed to *kill* you!"
He felt like an idiot, all of a sudden. He should have known that there was a good reason; should have *sensed* it! He'd heard the words the girl had spoken, after all, even the shocked 'you're not dust', but it hadn't made any sense to him. It had been so long since he'd been able to see himself that he'd forgotten, for just a moment, how much he and his human looked alike. "I..." he began, not sure of whether there was anything he could say to make things better.
Liam shook his head sadly, and let go of Willow's hand. "You knew I was willing to kill for Willow," he said softly. "You've known that since she was sick. But somehow, you think I wouldn't do it for *you*?" He sighed, his heart breaking silently in his chest. "Or is it that you think maybe Wes was right? That maybe I *am* a trick. Something sent here to make you weak. That I only *pretended* to be a good man... to love you." He swallowed hard, and stepped back, unable to look at either of them anymore. "I always knew I didn't deserve to be so happy," he said bitterly. "I *knew*." And with that, he turned and ran out into the bright, sparkling sunshine. By the time it was dark, he'd be hidden away well enough that neither vampire nor witch would be able to find him. If they even tried.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It had been pure shock that had kept him silent during his Mate's comments, and that same shock held him still for just a second too long. "Liam!" he shouted from the shadowed doorway, trapped by the sun. He wasn't entirely sure of what had just happened, or even *how*, but he did know one thing. One of his Mates had run away, and it was his own fault. He was afraid to even look at Willow, knowing he'd see the same loathing on her face that he felt for himself, so he turned and silently-- defeatedly-- climbed the stairs to the room that still smelled of one smallish redhead and one already missed human. "What do I do now?" he asked the echoing emptiness.
She'd waited and waited for Angel to say something-- anything!-- to stop Liam from leaving, but he hadn't, and now he was tearing himself apart. She stood in the doorway, her own eyes sad at losing one Mate, but she'd be damned if she was going to lose the other, too. Besides... "We find him," she said simply, both as a declaration and as an answer to his rather rhetorical question."We wait until sunset, and then we find him, and bring him back, and never let him leave again." She moved slowly to his side and sat down beside him on the edge of the bed, pulling his lax arm around her. "It'll be all right, my Angel. He may know *his* LA, but this one is *ours*. We have connections here he's never even *dreamed* of." A slight smile crossed he lips when he finally glanced tentatively at her, and she pulled him closer, her hand rubbing soothingly at his back. "We'll find him," she finished simply, relieved by his answering nod.
She was right, he told himself. Wherever Liam had run off to, there wasn't anyplace he wouldn't go to bring him back. He'd fucked up, but... with any luck, he could fix it. He and *Willow* could fix it, he corrected himself, and he turned, pulling the witch tightly against him. "Yes," he finally said.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
His wide eyes were matched by those of his sister, even as the images in their pool faded away. "How is this possible?" he said softly, seriously worried for the first time.
"I don't know," Sionelle nearly whispered. "It... this wasn't supposed to happen... was it?" Her own confusion was frightening her; she was used to *knowing*, after all.
Mathry closed his eyes for a moment, amazed by the feeling sweeping through him. "Right," he finally said, standing up and glowering about the mist-shrouded dimension he was currently inhabiting. "I don't care," he announced angrily. "I don't care if this was 'meant to be' or *not*. It's *wrong*." He nodded shortly to his sister before dissolving from her view, his mind firmly set on making things right between the two Warriors. After all, if their side was going to have any chance of winning, they'd need their best weapon strong and ready to fight; not sitting alone in the dark, missing one part of himself.
Sionelle sighed unhappily, but didn't try to stop him; in fact, she silently wished him luck. She only hoped he didn't get himself killed.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Wesley's eyes moved constantly from the lobby doors to the stairs. He wasn't entirely sure of who he felt sorrier for. Liam, who thought his Mate didn't trust him, or Angel, who felt responsible for the loss of him. Then his eyes came to rest on the dead girl on the floor, and he sighed, knowing exactly who he had the most sympathy for. Himself. *He* had to take care of the dead girl, after all.
He sighed again and went to find something to wrap her in.
End.