Title: Scattered Thoughts: Promise You Forever
Author: JR
Email: JRR42@yahoo.com
Rating: NC-17 If you shouldn’t be here, be somewhere else.
Episode spoilers: Doppelgangland, Prom, G1 & 2, set between G2 and Buffy season 4/Angel season1
Archive: My site only! If you want to link to it, please contact me to let me know where.
Series/Sequel: Follows ‘Scattered Thoughts: The Road Has Come to an End’, but you *don’t* have to read that before this -- this one can stand alone.
Previous parts: www.angelfire.com/de/theparlor/buffy.html.
Disclaimer: Angel, Willow, et al, are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and the WB. All characters are used without permission. This story is not intended to infringe upon any copyrights, nor is any profit being made from it.
Thanks: As always, to Carrie and to Marius especially for coming through at the 11th hour. You two are the best :-) Thanks so much for all the work you do!

...to...oh *God*...skin.

‘What the hell are we doing?’ some strange, misguided voice in my head keeps asking. Fortunately, the annoying sound is drowned out by a chorus of ‘it’s about damned time’s’ and ‘oooh, this feels so good’s’.

Angel’s skin is cool against mine as we continue kissing. Then again, I can practically feel the flush that continues to warm me like an electric blanket on its highest setting. My hands are busy exploring his chest, tracing the ribs under a surprisingly ripplely set of muscles. I mean, I knew Angel was in great shape, but even in my naughtiest dreams, I never imagined him to be this muscular.

His hands aren’t exactly idle, either. While I’m busy trying to map his unclothed upper-body, Angel is keeping himself occupied by running his fingers up and down my back. I don’t mean to -- well, maybe I do -- but his touch feels so good, I can’t help arching forward, crushing my chest straight into his. In doing so, one of my nipples brushes up and kinda gets caught against one of his. It feels so good, I try to recreate it by repeating the movement that caused it to happen the first time. What do you know, it works! Again and again we move to make it happen, but it is only after several times that I become aware of an even more incredible sensation.

Somehow in the craziness of all this, I find myself kneeling on the ground. Angel himself is sitting down with one folded leg kinda in front of him while the other stretches straight out to the side. Fortunately for me, I happen to be straddling that folded leg, and every time I move, the more...secret...part of me brushes flat up against the tense muscle of Angel’s thigh. I hope that he isn’t aware of my sick behavior, but I can’t help myself from pressing down a little further each time we rub our bare chests together.

It’s...*OH GOD*...what was that?

Breaking a few inches away from Angel’s mouth, I gasp for some much-needed air. At the same time, I glance downward to where that mind-numbing sensation came from. Oh, ooh! It’s there I see that Angel’s fingers are pinching both my nipple and his together against each other. And if his squirming is anything to go by, he’s enjoying the feeling just as much as I am.

I’m mortified by my own brazenness, but I can’t seem to stop myself from wriggling closer to the source of my pleasure. I try to shuffle myself a bit nearer to it when my knee accidentally goes a bit too far and gently brushes against...oh.

Oh! Oh My! Whoa. Oh my God. Is that...did I...it couldn’t...did I...do that? To Angel?

A growl fills the air, sending a shiver that’s half fear-driven and half lustful down my spine. Just a tad bit startled, my eyes fly open to find Angel’s. He isn’t vamped out -- exactly -- but for a second I think I see a flash of yellow flare over the rich brown I’m used to seeing. So it seems that I’m not the only one affected by my accidental discovery.

Wha...eeep! My heart is beating double-time as Angel grabs me and physically picks me up. He...he’s not gonna...ulp...kill me...is he? Another growl cuts through the shadows while Angel pulls me closer to him. What is he...oh...Oh! I get it. He’s trying to position me so that I’m straddling his legs. I can do that. I just need to move one leg to the other side of his.

Finally, I get myself settled, but Angel doesn’t seem to be satisfied. I feel both of his hands clamp down on my butt, urging me to lean even more forw...ooh, ooooh yes. That’s so much...

...better. All this maneuvering has forced Willow’s mini-skirt up to her hips. In fact, I barely notice it -- kind of difficult to when I’ve got two handfuls of her satin-covered backside. Then again, I’m not overly aware of where my hands are at the moment. How can I be with Willow’s most forbidden parts pushing down against my straining erection?

There is a split second where our eyes meet. I peer deeply into her passionate stare, wanting to make sure that this is actually what she wants. Somehow I find my own question reflecting back at me. I sense more than see Willow lick her kiss-swollen lips, and it is only then that I listen to the reports my other senses have been trying to deliver to my lust-hazed mind.

Willow is breathing hard, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she struggles to pull in the air she needs. I take a closer look at her eyes, not surprised to find that the green irises that enchant me so much have been reduced to slivers, driven back by the inky blackness of her passion-dialated pupils. But neither of these things are what affects me the most.

That honour is taken by the heady scent of her arousal. Oh, there is no mistaking the fact that Willow is very turned on right now. As if the rising scent of her wasn’t enough, I can feel the damp heat of her -- even with three, albeit thin, layers of clothing separating us. Willow seems to be waiting for me to do something, so I do the first thing that comes to mind -- try to get that blissful warmth as close to me as possible.

Tightening my grip, I urge her body forward and then let go. Once, twice, three times, and then Willow follows the slow, steady rhythm that I’ve set on her own. It doesn’t really surprise me. As far as I’ve seen, she’s always been a fast learner.

Our mouths find each other again while our lower bodies continue to grind mercilessly against each other. Oh yes, that’s it. I use my hands to guide our motions -- a gradual climb to the pleasure I want to give her. Occasionally, I have to use my grip to slow her down, to keep her from charging headlong into the passion I’m trying to carefully lead her to.

Thinking becomes more difficult with each second that passes. My rationale is deserting me, draining away as my world collapses into dueling tongues, sweat-covered torsos and crushing pelvises. At some point, I abandon my attempts at guiding Willow’s pace. As her movements become more and more erratic, I know that she is close.

That’s it. That’s it, c’mon Willow, come for me. I want to feel you.

“Oh God, Angel!”

All of Willow’s movements cease completely as the beginning of her orgasm overtakes her. Desperate for air, she rips her mouth away from mine, which is fine by me. It gives her the freedom to cry out her pleasure into the night.

Willow’s diamond-hard nipples scrape along my chest as she resumes the rocking motion that brought her to this point. I can feel the tremors wracking her thin frame everywhere our bodies touch. However, what almost throws me over my own ledge of sexual abandon are the powerful, sharp thrusts of her hips as she instinctively tries to prolong her climax. I keep up my own rocking motions, determined to help her in any way that I can.

Seconds or hours, I’ll never be able to figure it out. The only thing I’m certain of is that it ends all to soon. Although my eyes stay focused on her flushed, perspiring face, I can feel her chest rapidly rising and falling against mine as she struggles to regulate her breathing. Somehow, seeing her like this makes me feel honoured, like I’m catching a fleeting glimpse of a hidden treasure that was never meant for my eyes.

Perhaps I’m thinking that because it’s all too true. Willow isn’t mine...can never be mine.

Before the darkness that is my constant companion can envelop me, Willow’s eyes flutter open. The luminous green silently demands...and receives my full attention. In them I see a thousand emotions -- gratitude, thanks, and confusion, to name just a few.

But through all that, there is one thing that captures and holds my rapt attention. For the most prominent thing emanating from those emerald depths is the one thing that terrifies me most: uncertainty.

Uh...

...oh my God! OhmyGodohmyGod! That was... it was... something. Vocabulary? What’s that? Funny, I thought men were the ones who were supposed to lose I.Q. points after mind-blowing orgasms.

I feel icky, sticky, sweaty, and kind of embarrassed. Oh God, what have I done? Hell, what have we done? And how come I never knew that it could feel so good?

My mind is racing. It’s never felt like this before -- not with Oz, not even...to my immortal shame...by myself. So *this* is what all the girls at school rave about. And with good reason, too. It was fantastic, mind-blowing, great...

...and...

...it happened with Angel.

I open my eyes to find him staring at me -- with a smile on his face. Angel smiling? I force myself to blink hard, but the little grin is still there.

That’s when I notice that something else is still there, too -- like his hardness pressing up against me.

I don’t have much time to think about it, though. Just when I thought I’d gotten my breathing under control, Angel moves us with all the amazing speed he’s capable of. Gasping at the suddenness of it, I’m even more stunned to find myself lying flat on the floor. I can’t see much at this point, only Angel’s face getting closer right before his mouth finds mine.

Despite the ferocity of his kisses, I’m surprised to find that I’m not afraid of him. Underneath it all, there is a carefully hidden layer of tenderness. I can simply sense that Angel is not out to hurt me; only to show me just how much he wants me.

Whoa.

My mental acknowledgement of that particular thought stops me cold. Angel wants *me*? Well, duh! Geez, I think to myself sarcastically. What was my first clue? The fact that he just gave me the best feeling I’ve ever had in my life, or the fact that his hand is...creeping lower down my body?

Oooh, Angel’s hand closes around my right breast, kneading it...I’m not sure how to describe it...more clumsily than before? It’s like he’s doing it in hurry before...oh, maybe he *is* in a hurry, because with a quick tweak of my nipple, his hand continues to move downward. With one last lick to my lips, Angel’s cool mouth departs from mine as well.

Those same lips skim down my throat, settling back on my nipple at the same time as his hand finds the waistband of my skirt. I feel him search for, find, and finally undo the button that holds it in place.

“Lift up,” he whispers, lifting his head away from my chest with obvious reluctance. I hurry to comply, refusing to allow myself to think about how wrong I know this is. Angel growls his approval as he scoots down to remove not only my skirt but my underwear as well.

Then nothing.

I dread opening my eyes, terrified that I’ll see Angel looking at me with disgust or something. After all, I know I’m not exactly built or anything. I don’t have Buffy’s athletic physique, or Cordelia’s curves for that matter. Oh God, Angel’s probably disgusted by me, too small and scrawny for his taste or something.

My eyes snap open to find Angel staring down at me. There is a look on his face, one I’ve never seen before. I don’t even begin to try and decipher it before I start curling up around myself to shield my body from Angel’s sight. Unfortunately, my embarrassment immediately gets his attention.

“What are you...don’t do that, Willow,” Angel...I guess the best word is...‘implores’. “Please, let me look at you.”

Swallowing against my suddenly bone-dry throat, I keep still for a moment as I consider what he has asked. My first thought is ‘is he serious’? One look at his face is enough to answer that question. But to my amazement, it helps to calm my fears...somewhat.

I still move slowly, not quite trusting that this isn’t some huge joke at my expense. Angel remains completely motionless as I slowly unfold. My hands, which I’ve been holding over my breasts and...down there, are the last things to fall away.

Bracing myself for rejection, I dare to take a peek directly into Angel’s eyes. Instead of the mocking I expect to find there, his expression is one of...no, that can’t be. But I look again, and it is. There, on Angel’s face, is *awe*. Before it really sinks in, those dark brown eyes find my own.

“You truly are beautiful, Willow,” Angel whispers softly as he leans forward for a kiss. “I’m just not sure what’s more beautiful...this,” he runs one of his hands down my torso and back up again to illustrate, “or this,” he says tenderly, his fingers brushing right over my heart.

I’m so...moved...by his sentiment that I can’t even think of something to say right now. In fact, my vision starts to cloud up before I can begin to stop it. I never knew...never even dared to dream, for that matter, that Angel might have noticed me or even thought of me in that way.

“Willow?” Angel questions, one of his hands moving toward my face. Brushing away yet another tear, he asks me what’s wrong.

“Angel,” I plead, launching myself at him. Wrapping my arms around his naked upper body, I squeeze him with every ounce of strength I possess. I feel hysteria rising within me, brought on by the thought of losing Angel just when we’ve discovered this new layer between us. “Don’t go.”

I can feel him tense up as I say the words. I’m kinda half-expecting his reaction, but still it takes me by surprise. Did I say something wrong?

“Will,” Angel starts hesitantly. “This...this thing...between us...now...”

Suddenly I get it, I understand what he’s trying, but not succeeding, to say.

“Oh!” I attempt to reassure him. Pulling back to look him in the eyes, I try to clarify myself to him. “Oh, no, I know...I mean...I understand...what this is. Well, not exactly,” I admit, but I continue on anyway. “What I’m mean to say is that I know...this isn’t real.” A hurt look crosses Angel’s face. “No! I mean it is, but it isn’t.” Now he just seems to be confused. “What I want to say is that I know this isn’t...permanent...or anything. You still love Buffy and I still love Oz. This is just a...” I struggle to find the right word, but only one comes to mind, “...a fluke. Unexpected, but still amazing.

And even though I know we shouldn’t be...shouldn’t have...done this, I can’t really say that I’m sorry.”

Finally, Angel seems satisfied. He graces me with a rare smile before pulling me back into his embrace.

“I can’t either,” he admits. “Thank you, Willow. Thank you for this and for everything. Thank you for being there for me, for accepting me when none of the others would. Thank you for being my friend.”

His words sound so final, I’m instantly back to where I was before.

“I wish you wouldn’t go,” I say into his neck.

“I think you, of all people, know that I have to,” Angel reminds me. But it doesn’t change my opinion. “It’s not like I won’t be coming back, Willow. I’m sure that with all the crazy things that happen on the Hellmouth, I might as well keep this place open as my second home...”

“But it won’t be the same, Angel. Don’t you see? Even when you come back it’s going to be different. You’ll still be a part of the group, but you won’t be...oh God, I didn’t mean it like that...well...maybe I did, but I don’t know how to say it any differently...or better. But if you leave now, there will always be this...separation from us...”

“Kind of like there always has been?” he hinted wryly. “I’ve never really been a part of you all. I’ve only been Buffy’s ...boyfriend, or...”

“You were always a part of us, Angel,” I said, my ‘resolve face’ firmly in place. “At least to me.”

“Don’t you see, Willow? I’m not meant to be with anyone.”

“You could be with me...”




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