Rating: NC-17
Pairing: W/Angelus
Summary: Willow is ready to head home; she just needs to make one stop along the way.
Spoilers: Series begins just after ‘Lover’s Walk’, now a couple of years have passed, and we’re part way through season six.
Disclaimer: I did not build the Buffyverse that would be Joss, it is merely my playground.
Distribution: If you want it, fine by me, just drop me a line first.
Special Thanks: Kat for checking over my ramblings, Aden for always being happy to see me, and all the super cool people who send me feedback!
Feedback: Pretty please with sugar on top!
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The flight home was about as pleasant as the flight there had been. Both Drusilla and Angelus had gotten very drunk in order to deal with their fear of flying, which in truth was a mixed blessing. The pair was a great deal calmer about the trip, but Willow had to constantly explain to them why they weren’t allowed to start killing people on the plane or in the airport during their layover. Finally though, they were safely back in the United States. However, before heading back to Sunnydale, Willow needed to stop off first in Iowa to check on her mother.
The Des Moines airport was ridiculously small, without even a decent coffee shop. Willow sighed, feeling the ravages of exhaustion wearing her body down. Jet lag clouded her senses, but sadly not enough for her to be able to block out the cold. She stood in the snow outside the main building without a jacket, waiting for Angelus to ‘acquire’ them a car. It was early April, there should have been some sign of spring, but still frigid winds were blowing, stinging her skin and stealing her breath away. She couldn’t understand why anyone would want to live in a place that was so unbearably cold in the winter, and if memory served was also swelteringly hot in the summer. When she was at Marion, the patients were rarely allowed outside, and certainly not in the winter, but she remembered when the air conditioning had broken one summer, and hadn’t been fixed for more than two months. The heat had been overwhelming, and when combined with the humidity, it felt like she was wading through a warm bath everywhere she went. However, at that moment, standing there freezing, her summertime memories didn’t seem quite as bad.
Drusilla didn’t seem to notice the cold, which struck Willow as funny. She knew logically that vampires were rarely affected by the temperature around them, but Drusilla often complained of being cold. Over time, the redhead came to realize that her complaints had little or nothing to do with the weather. Dru felt cold when she was upset. It was almost as if she had brief moments of clarity, when she realized that she was a monster, and the knowledge left her feeling frozen, literally. It usually passed quickly though. Willow would wrap a blanket or something around the vampire’s shoulders, and sing her a little song or something to take her mind off it. The distraction always seemed to work better than the blanket. At the moment however, Drusilla seemed perfectly content, spinning around in the snow with Miss Edith, trying to catch snowflakes on her tongue as they whipped past her on the wind. Willow shivered uncontrollably and wished Angelus would hurry up.
The dark vampire pulled up then in a brand new Lincoln Continental. Drusilla climbed in the front with a giggle, happy to see that Angelus had left her a little snack. The unfortunate businessman who had rented the car was slumped heavily next to Angelus, nearly unconscious. Drusilla instantly latched her mouth onto his throat, drinking down the rest of his precious blood greedily. While she was busy with that, Angelus hopped out to help Willow throw what little luggage they had in the back, and soon they were off.
About two hours later they arrived in Council Bluffs, just on the border of Nebraska. This was where the new facility was, where all the patients from Marion had been moved. It was almost dawn, and the trio pulled into a cheap motel where they could rest for the day. Willow paid for the room while Angelus and Drusilla quickly went out to hunt. The one man had not been enough to satisfy them both before they had dumped his body in a ditch on the way there. Willow had picked this particular motel for the simple fact that it was open, but now she was wondering if it wouldn’t have been better to just sleep in the car. The place was like something out of a bad movie. The proprietor came to the counter wearing a ratty bathrobe, and frighteningly not much else. He asked Willow how many hours she needed the room for, and then acted surprised when she said she would need it till the next night. He then asked her if she wanted to rent any videos, indicating their wide variety of adult films they kept behind the counter, but she graciously declined. The man shrugged, and handed her a key, happy to get back to bed. Just as she was about to head out the office door to find her room, the man called out over his shoulder not to use Canadian coins on the bed. She agreed, not understanding what he was talking about, but wanting to get out of there so she could finally get some sleep.
The room was small with ancient and ugly furniture, mostly from the seventies. The bed was too small, so much for a good night’s sleep, but thankfully it was clean. There were even fresh sheets on the bed. Willow grabbed a hand towel out of the bathroom, and tied it around the doorknob outside so Angelus and Drusilla would know which room was theirs. Then, she stripped down and took a long hot shower, trying to wash away the last few days of travel. Finally, when she was clean and dry, she climbed into bed, flipping on the TV. Of course there was nothing on but infomercials, but at least they were in English, which was a nice change. After the trio had left Paris, with the intention of coming home, Angelus had convinced her that first they should take a little detour and visit some other parts of Europe since she had never been. Willow had been a little thrown by the suggestion, knowing full well that Angelus never did anything without an ulterior motive, but in the end she had agreed.
The trip had done her some good, helping to take her mind off things for a while. It turned out that Angelus’ real reason for wanting to travel a bit was so he could hook up with some of his old demon buddies and show them that good old' Angelus was back, bad as ever. Apparently the male ego was the same, whether living or dead. Although, while they were in Ireland she did get the chance to see a side of Angelus that she never had before.
One night she had followed him through the small village they were staying in, to an ancient cemetery. She had watched from the shadows as he delicately placed a bunch of wild flowers on one grave, and then before leaving, spit upon another. When she thought he was gone, she crept among the graves to see whom he had been visiting. She found the flowers laying in front of a small tombstone that had been mostly worn away with time. She could only just make out the name ‘Katherine’, but that was all. The tiny headstone was wedged between two others, on one the name ‘Liam’ was visible, once she bushed away the weeds that had been covering it, but the other had no name to read. Time hadn’t worn away the words, the stone had been broken.
“My family,” his voice came from the shadows, causing Willow to jump and let out a girly squeal.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to invade your privacy or anything,” she responded quickly, making him chuckle.
“Yes you did. You were curious,” he held his hand up to quiet her protests before continuing, “It’s okay, I’m not mad.”
“Oh, good,” she said with obvious relief, “So, do you want to talk about it?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Well, who’s this one with the broken headstone?”
“That was my father,” Angelus spat out, “He was a real bastard. My mother’s grave is next to his, but the marker is missing. I guess after a couple hundred years it just wore away.”
“And who was Katherine?”
“Katie,” he corrected, “She was my little sister. She was the sweetest girl in all of Ireland, and then I tore her throat out.”
His voice became heavy with emotion, bringing out his thick baroque accent. Willow didn’t know what to say. She knew he had killed his family, but never imagined that he would have regretted it. She placed her hand lightly on his arm, to offer him some sort of comfort, then looked at the last grave.
“Who does that one belong to?” she asked.
“That one is mine.”
Willow lay on the bed in the crappy motel room and thought back to that night. It was the only time she had seen Angelus look truly vulnerable. She had looked into his eyes and seen sorrow there, and for a moment she realized how very lonely his existence must have been. Living forever with no one to really share himself with. Darla was to much of a hard ass to tolerate such weakness, and Drusilla too far gone with her own insanity to ever really comprehend the emotional needs of others, and Spike, well Spike just rubbed him wrong. He was truly alone, and it hit her like a revelation as she watched him looking at his own grave with a powerful longing in his eyes.
She had offered herself to him that night. Pulling him close to her, doing her best to take some of that pain and offer him the comfort of knowing that for once he was not alone. They had made love, there in the cemetery, on the graves of his family. And for one night they understood each other, both pouring all their pain and loneliness and hunger into that one night together. Every other night before or since had only ever been about domination between them, about seeing who was stronger. But even if the tenderness hadn’t continued in the bedroom, there was a difference in the way they looked at each other. There was a mutual understanding or respect that had replaced the animosity. Angelus had even asked her to be his mate, but she had declined. He hadn’t been happy with her answer, but he wasn’t surprised. She didn’t want to live forever, and after showing her what eternity had done to him, he couldn’t blame her. Vampirism was a curse; why else would they be condemned to keep the memories of when they were alive if they would only be able to live a half life separated from everyone they had ever loved for all time.
Willow slouched down lower in the bed, wishing she could somehow wipe the memories away. Life had been easier when Angelus had been just another monster wanting nothing more than to fuck her or kill her. Now when she looked into his eyes, she saw a man there as well, and despite everything he had done to her, she couldn’t hate him anymore. The redhead closed her eyes, and rolled on her side slightly, when her head slid off the pillow somewhat and smacked into something hard.
“Ow!” she sat up more; rubbing the spot on her forehead as she looked to see what had accosted her. What she found made her burst out laughing. There, mounted to the side of the bed, was a metal box with the words ‘Magic Fingers’ in rainbow letters and a coin slot. She read the small print which explained that for the very reasonable price of one quarter, your bed would be transformed into a full body masseuse for a full thirty minutes. She guessed that like the rest of the furniture, the vibrating bed was a souvenir from the ‘70s, and probably no longer worked, but her curiosity got the better of her, and soon she was rummaging through her pockets looking for change. She frowned, looking down at the small pile of change in her hand. There were no quarters, actually she had no American coins at all, but she did have some of those new Euro coins, which technically weren’t Canadian. She picked one out that looked to be the same size as a quarter, and slipped it into the slot.
The bed gave a shudder, as if it were some beast being roused from its slumber, but then the vibrating began. Willow couldn’t help but let out a heavy sigh, as she rolled her naked body around the bed, letting the vibrations ease her aching muscles. She was so consumed by the sensation that she hadn’t noticed at first when the door opened and Drusilla and Angelus entered the room. However, she did notice the freezing blast of wind that rushed along her naked flesh, making her gasp in surprise and sit up to face the intrusion.
Drusilla and Angelus stared at her like a pair of hungry wolves. Her fiery hair had mostly dried from her shower, and fanned around her face in tousled waves. Her flesh was creamy white, but flushed red briefly at being caught doing something she considered to be silly. The wind brushed her skin again. Caught up by the vision before them, neither had remembered to close the door. Willow’s nipples hardened to twin points, and goose bumps ran up her skin.
“Were you born in a barn?” she asked hotly, then seeing their glazed looks, she added, “Shut the damn door!”
Angelus pushed the door shut and paced around the bed somewhat, still watching her. The redhead grabbed at the blanket, trying to cover herself, not only from the cold, but also to hide from the predatory look Angelus was giving her.
“Drusilla go take a shower, a long one,” he said without looking at her.
“But I want to play with the little tree too,” she whined in response. Angelus did look at her then, and his expression made her flinch. Her bottom lip began to tremble like she was going to cry, she hated be left out of things. It made her feel unloved.
“Do as he says Dru. In fact, why don’t you take a nice long bath, and I’ll be in when we’re done, to wash your back. Okay?” Willow said in a pacifying tone. It was sad really, but lately Angelus seemed to have grown bored with Drusilla, often taking her out to hunt with him, but rarely taking her into his bed. The poor crazy vampire was losing her daddy all over again, and all Willow could do was try to pick up the slack with her.
Drusilla looked at the pair and slowly nodded. She no longer looked as if she would cry, but as she turned and headed to the bathroom Willow couldn’t help but shake the image of a lost child from her head. Once the door to the bathroom was shut, she turned her attention back to the dark vampire standing at the foot of the bed, leering at her. Her blanket slipped from her shoulders, leaving her breasts bare and jiggling slightly from the still vibrating bed.
“You know, that wasn’t very nice. You hurt her feelings again,” she admonished.
“I don’t care about her feelings. All I care about right now is what I’m going to do to you.”
His voice was thick with lust, and it made the redhead shudder, to imagine what was soon to come. She watched as he tossed his coat onto a nearby chair and began to slowly unbutton his black silk shirt. Willow watched, completely transfixed on his form as the garment dropped to the floor. He still made no move toward her, but stayed standing at the end of the bed, hands tracing lightly along his pale chest, fingers trailing up and down before finding his nipples and giving them both a firm pinch. Willow gasped, realizing that her hands had been mirroring his. The feel of her small fingers pinching her own sensitive points, made chills run down her spine.
From the moment he had walked through the door he had wanted nothing more than to sink himself into her warmth and pound her into the bed. But Angelus was all about control and loved nothing more than teasing the girl before him until she was in a frenzy of lust. However, watching her stroking her chest and pinching her nipples, he wasn’t sure how long he could last. There was only one way to find out.
Angelus continued to stroke his chest with one hand, while allowing his other hand to trail lower, and was happy to see she was still imitating him. He rubbed his hand firmly over the growing bulge in his leather pants, and let out a low groan as Willow stroked her own hand over her cinnamon curls. He then began to free his cock, one button at a time, as Willow found her clit and began to rub the hard nub. When the last button was popped, he slid his pants to the floor, stepping out of them and allowing his hand to stroke up and down his rigid shaft. Willow looked at him through heavy lids, her breath coming in pants. She was close already, but wanted to cum with him inside of her. But still, he hesitated. Normally she would have been content to keep playing his little game, enjoying the challenge of seeing who really had the control, but at this moment she could care less about who was on top, she just wanted him.
“Angelus, please…” she moaned with need.
He knew he had won, and no longer felt the need to play their little games. He moved toward her like a predator, grabbing her arm roughly and dragging her toward him. His kiss was powerful and made Willow feel suddenly weak in the knees. But almost as soon as it had started it was over. He grabbed her at the waist, turning her around until she was on her hands and knees. He ran one hand over her firm ass before giving it a sharp slap. Willow mewled with pleasure, pushing her butt back farther to rub against the tip of his cock, and was rewarded by another firm smack. He was dominating her, forcing her to submit to him, and a part of her, a part that was growing fast, loved it. She was about to ask him for another spank, when Angelus lost control and slammed his cock into her wet core.
Both cried out from the much needed contact. Angelus took a moment to compose himself, otherwise it would be over too quickly, and he wanted it to last as long as possible. With gritted teeth he began a torturously slow rhythm. Over the last several months it was becoming increasingly difficult to control himself with her, but he sure as hell was going to try. He rocked his body against hers, driving himself deep into her with each thrust, his eyes shut tight with concentration.
His slow pace was driving Willow insane, as she began to thrust her ass back toward him, trying to increase their contact. The motion broke Angelus’ concentration, and unwillingly his hips sped up to match her pace. Soon he was slamming into her with total abandon, his balls slapping against her sensitive clit with the violence of their motions. Willow was unbelievably close, her hands tearing at the bedding and a constant moaning sound escaping her half parted lips. Suddenly she was there, screaming her release while Angelus dug his fingers into her hips painfully, continuing to pound away at her. The feel of her tight muscles clamping around his cock like a vise, threw him over the edge after her, his pace slowing and his eyes rolling up into his head as he emptied his seed into her.
Angelus collapsed on top of her, as she crumbled onto the bed. Willow panted, trying to get her breathing back under control. Angelus rolled off of her, and pulled her into his arms. His breathing was as calm as always, he didn’t need to do it at all; it was just an unconscious behavior. However, as Willow allowed him to pull her closer, she could feel him trembling. She placed one hand flat on the bed to be sure that the vibrating had stopped. When she was sure that it had, she pulled the lost blanket from the floor and wrapped it around them. She knew he wasn’t shaking from the cold, but wasn’t sure what else to do. Willow glanced up at his face, but his look was so intense that she had to look away. Why couldn’t he just be an unbelievable bastard like he used to?
She wouldn’t look at him, and somewhere deep inside him, it hurt. Ever since that night in Ireland, things had changed for them. Angelus had spent months torturing this girl in hopes that when the time came and he turned her, she would have a blood lust to match his own. But after that night he had realized he didn’t want another mate like Darla, he wanted someone softer, more compassionate, a mate he could let his guard down around. He wanted Willow, but she wouldn’t have him. Suddenly rage began to flood his body. ‘Spike’s right, I am a poof. That fucking soul must have contaminated me,’ he thought coldly before giving Willow a harsh shove, forcing her out of the bed and onto the floor.
‘Ah, yes. There’s the Angelus I’m so fond of,’ she thought as she stood and rubbed her sore backside. She didn’t even try to understand what was running through his head; her own mind was messy enough without trying to understand the two hundred plus years of neuroses that was Angelus. Willow simply turned and walked to the bathroom to join Drusilla.