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It must
have been a dream, Angelus sitting in the chair, watching her. Had to be, he
didn't move, didn't blink, just sat there, silent and ominous. A surreal
phantasm of her mind, Willow was certain of that as her eyes once more felt
heavy, she sighed and blinked a few times. The dream sat there, staring her
down, not moving as she relaxed back against Spike's spooned form, and her eyes
began to flutter shut. Then the dream moved, extracting itself from the corner,
to stand beside the bed, and a single finger was placed against her trembling
lips for silence.
Wide
awake, Willow couldn't help but gasp under the pressure of his finger,
flinching back against Spike, causing the blond to growl and tighten his hold
even more. Never taking his gaze from her, Angelus reached out, long fingers
dragging over his childe's face, dropping down to wrap about the throat,
squeezing as his thumb caressed the sharp jawline. Spike released his hold on
Willow and batted at his sire's hand, partially waking up.
"Sod
off," Spike mumbled in his typical post-sleep grumps, partially cracking
open one eye to focus on his sire. Further protests were cut short as Angelus
leant down, lips pressing firmly against the blond's, his tongue teasing them
open and exploring his childe's mouth. Sighing into the kiss, Spike didn't even
notice the loss of Willow's warmth as his sire quietly inched her away from the
broken embrace and the bed, forcing her to stand on shaky legs. Breaking the
kiss, Angelus stood, his fingers moving up to ruffle the blond hair even more.
"Go
back to sleep," he murmured, his fingers once more tracing the sharp
contours of the blond.
"Exactly
what I was doing you bleedin' poof," Spike grumbled, turning over onto his
stomach and burying his face in the comfort of the pillow. "So go
'way."
Tilting
his head, Angelus' gaze dropped his gaze back to Willow, his fingers tightening
their already firm grip on her upper arm, holding her steady. Without a word he
moved away from the bed, practically dragging Willow along, never pausing in
his movement until he reached the shower. Even then, his fingers still bit into
her flesh as he reached in and turned on the spray, shoving her in and breaking
his hold to turn away. The solitude of the shower was only brief, his leather
pants were tossed aside and he stepped in under the spray, causing Willow to
slam back against the wall in an act based purely on fear. The action only
served to bring a smile to her nightmare's lips before he reached out and
pulled her to him, under the warmth of the water.
"You
don't ever let the slayer have the last word," he stated, leaning forward
and reaching over her to grab a sponge and soap.
"What?"
asked Willow, dumbfounded. Her hands were suddenly filled with the items and
all she could do was stare at Angelus, her forehead wrinkling in confusion, as
she tried to comprehend what he had said. Shaking her head in disbelief, she
automatically started to go about their bathing routine, soaping up the sponge
and attending to the dark-haired vampire looming over her.
"The
slayer never has the last word. Don't give her the illusion that you obey
her," he caught her chin, halting her movements as he tilted her head back
to look her in the eye. "And that's all it is Willow, an illusion. She
thinks she sent you running from the library this afternoon ~ of course we both
know she didn't. You left of your own accord because you didn't want to be
there. Never let her tell you what to do and never, ever let her have the last
word. I don't give a damn if you hit her, or say the most puerile thing and
then walk away, but you don't let the smug little bitch talk you down or tell
you what to do. She is nothing in my world other than a parasite, an annoying inconvenience
that is tolerated...whereas you walk with me, so she has no right to presume to
be able to tell you what to do. Next time, handle it better. Do you
understand?"
Willow
nodded and he released her chin, his hands covering hers, urging her on.
"Now,
when my door is shut you don't open it. You don't want to see what's hidden
away here," Angelus smirked as she dropped her head. "Don't worry
darlin', when it's all said and done, I'll come for you."
Willow
kept her eyes fixed on his chest, watching the play of the water over his
torso, washing away the soap she had covered both of them in. Biting her bottom
lip she continued to wash him, her fingers playing across his flesh, noting the
scratches and bite marks that were practically healed. Slowly, hesitantly she
asked the question that had occupied her mind since she walked into the mansion
that afternoon.
"So,
you don't mind that I came home?"
"No,"
he spoke softly, his arms slipping about her waist to pull her in close.
"You missed a few classes but you'll soon make those up. There was no real
need for you to be there anyway."
Willow
frowned, and wondered about that. There was no doubt in her mind that Giles
would be successful in his frantic search for information regarding the demons
Buffy had encountered, with or without her help ~ he'd done it before, he'd do
it again. Sighing, she shook her head, dispelling her own melancholy thoughts
and turned her attention back to the task at hand. For once she appreciated the
familiarity of the action of washing him, cleansing him, this afternoon's
incident already forgotten, tranquility found in his arms as the water cascaded
over them. She could have been quite content to stay there for the rest of the
evening. Of course she knew she couldn't. Her task done, she leant against his
chest, her fingers absently tracing the faint outline of a long scratch running
along his upper arm.
"Are
we really going to LA tonight?"
"Yes,"
he smiled down at her, his fingers caressing the gold choker briefly before
moving on to push her wet hair back over her shoulder, baring her neck for his
fingers to play with. "What do you feel like for dinner?"
"I
don't know," Willow shrugged non-committally, tilting her head to one side
and subconsciously baring her throat even more. It was an invitation he didn't
deny, leaning down to torment the wet flesh with his tongue before dropping his
mouth down to bite teasingly at her shoulder. Her fingers moved to tangle in
his sopping wet hair and she sighed. "I'm starving though."
"We
can decide when we get there, then," he released his hold on her,
stretched under the warm water, and scrubbed at his wet hair. Reaching out, he
shut down the shower, turned his back to her and pushed open the door.
"Can't have you dying of starvation when there are so many wonderful
restaurants about."
Stepping
out, he grabbed a towel, rubbing at his hair, drying it enough to make it go
all spiky. Silently, he offered her another towel and she joined him, wrapping herself
up and wringing the water from her hair.
"By
the way," he finished drying off, carelessly tossing the towel onto one of
the chairs near the shower. "The demons the Slayer is so terribly worried
about...they're Barckham's. It's their mating season and she got between two
mates. Tomorrow, when the Watcher is so desperate for your help, you'll find
that very information in the Velzum Chronicles and the old man can puff up with
pride over your apt research skills."
Smirking,
he turned and sauntered back to his room, pausing at the door to look back at
her. "Wake Spike, tell him he's got half an hour to get ready."
With
that he turned and disappeared into his room, leaving Willow alone. Pulling the
towel tighter about herself, she strolled to her door, glancing over her
shoulder to steal a quick peek of Angelus as he started to dress. His back was
turned and she watched for a moment before dragging her eyes away from him to
focus on his bed, the sheets were tattered and stained with blood, hanging in rags.
Turning sharply, she stepped into her room and shook her head at the thought of
trying to wake the blond laying before her on his stomach, spread eagle across
the rumpled sheets, dead to the world.
True
to Angelus' word they headed down to LA. Dinner was taken in an elaborate
setting and within an hour of finishing her meal, Willow once more found
herself alone in Spike's company standing in the car lot while Angelus
disappeared into the interior of the Mercedes dealership office.
"I
don't understand it," Willow stated as they leant against the Desoto,
waiting for the new Mercedes to be brought around.
"Understand
what pet?" asked Spike, amusing himself by blowing smoke rings.
"Well,
if Angelus wanted a car, why go to so much trouble and expense?" Willow
asked, frowning as Spike cocked an eyebrow. "I mean couldn't he just find
some guy whose car he fancies and...you know...grrrr."
"Grrr?
You mean rip the sod's throat out and take the car?" Spike laughed as she
cringed at the detailed description of the very thing she had suggested. Taking
a deep drag on his cigarette, he shook his head, a look of disappoint marring
his features. "I would have thought you'd figured it out by now."
Willow
frowned, there was something to figure out? "Umm, what?"
"Angel's
a snob. Always has been, always will be," Spike stated, tossing aside his
cigarette butt as the attendant pulled up in a sleek convertible with the top
down. Smirking, he shook his head. "Black, such an original color. Don't
you think, pet?"
"A
snob?" asked Willow as Spike pushed away from the Desoto, swaggering over
to inspect the new car.
"Yeah,
hoity-toity," Spike twirled his hand about in the air as he took the keys
from the attendant and plonked down in the drivers seat. "Has to have the
best of everything and certainly doesn't settle for someone else's seconds or
hand me downs." His fingers admiringly ran over the dashboard before
wrapping about the steering wheel. " Well, this is a neat little
package."
"Spike,"
Angelus called, striding over to them, leather document case in hand. "Get
out of my car."
"Don't
I get to take her for a spin then?"
"Not
tonight," Angelus curtly dismissed the blond and held out his hand for
Willow. Scowl on his face, Spike relinquished his seat as Angelus' fingers
curled around Willow's. "Entertain yourself, we'll see you back at the
mansion later on."
"Oh
joy," was Spike's impassive reply as he eyed the couple, only to have his
view blocked by the attendant scurrying back. Smirking he moved behind the
young uniformed man and let his face morph into the demon. "Good night for
some blood sports."
Chuckling
Angelus shook his head in denial at the blond and the demon faded, the scowl
returning. Rolling his eyes in exasperation, Spike patted down his duster,
trying to locate his pack of cigarettes. It proved futile and the attendant
hovering about caught his attention.
"What
do you want?" Spike spat.
"There's
this," stuttered the young man, thrusting a magnum of Moet towards the
blond. "For the owner."
"That'd
be him," he snarled, jerking his head in the general direction of Angelus
and Willow, attracting his sire's attention. Behind the attendant's back Spike
blew a kiss to the two, causing Willow to giggle and blow one back. Clasping
his heart and staggering backwards, he gave a half smirk and twirled about,
heading back to his car.
"Champagne?"
Angelus questioned as he held open the passenger door for Willow, his hand
guiding her into the seat, carefully closing the door. The Desoto roared to
life and he watched, smirking, as Spike hightailed it out of the lot.
"Yes,
sir," confirmed the attendant, carefully placing the bottle and two
champagne flutes in the small section behind the seats. "Compliments of
the dealership."
"Wonderful,"
drawled Angelus, striding over to take his own seat. He'd already drunk,
compliments of the dealership, but he'd never say no to a bottle of Moet. With
typical male excitement, he turned the motor over, smiling at the perfect purr
of German engineering, put the car in gear and exited the lot. Even before they
reached the freeway, the motor had been gunned and the car roared through the
streets of LA, passing others in a blur of color and sound.
And
Willow was wishing she had died of starvation. Or at least hadn't eaten quite
so much at dinner.
Her
stomach churned even more as Angelus ignored the convenience of the freeway and
headed up the old coastal highway. This road, with its twists and turns, had
long since been abandoned by most for the freeway with its multi-laned
directness. However, tonight it was obvious that he was in the mood for speed
and sharp turns, and the old highway was ideal. With every passing mile, every
twist and turn, the speed seemed to increase until Willow was certain that the
next corner would see them hurtling off the road and dying in mass of twisted
metal. Then things got worse.
"Oh
god," muttered Willow through clenched teeth as the most notorious turn on
the old road came into view. It was one of those hairpin turns that some
over-confident jock from school always thought he could handle, not a year went
by that it didn't cause some major grief to one of the sporting teams in the
town. For once, in her very short life, she wished she was in a car with Spike
instead.
The
squealing of the tires and the raucous roar of the motor was all she could hear
as she scrunched her eyes shut and gripped the seat. The world spun and she
simply knew she was going to die. Suddenly, there was absolutely nothing, a
moment of pure silence where everything stopped. Then she heard it, the soft
humming of the engine and Angelus chuckling. Cautiously she cracked opened an
eye, expecting to see a bright light at the end of a dark tunnel. Instead she
was still in the car with Angelus laughing at her.
"Don't
you trust me, Willow?" he asked, stretching out a hand to stroke her hair.
Wildly
she glanced about the darkened road, the car's headlights and the illumination
of Sunnydale below them casting an eerie glow. They'd made the turn, she wasn't
dead, the car wasn't a wreck and she could start breathing again.
"I
don't think I can move," she whimpered, quite sure that if he demanded she
get out she couldn't ~ she was well and truly stuck to the seat in sheer fear.
Beside her Angelus laughed even louder and gunned the motor, heading into town.
"We'll
go for a walk and have some champers, darlin'," he stated, giving her knee
a squeeze to attract her attention. "Willow?"
"Hmm?"
she asked, still taking gulping deep breaths.
"Let
go of the seat, you're going to shred it."
"Okay,"
she whimpered, releasing her death grip on the seat. Chuckling Angelus caught
her hand and brought it up to his lips, caressing the tense fingers, before
dropping it down to his thigh and covering it with his own hand.
By
the time they pulled up in one of the biggest cemeteries in Sunnydale, parking
the car on a grass verge in the heart of the graveyard, Willow had her
breathing under control. Still, she was relieved that Angelus, for all intents
and purposes, was a gentleman, offering his hand to pull her out of the car.
She wouldn't have been able to stand by herself, her legs still quivering like
jelly after their drive back to town. Grabbing the champagne and glasses he
started to lead her through the maze of graves.
"I've
been thinking," stated Angelus as he led her deeper into the jumble of
graves, some were older than the town, others still had freshly turned earth.
"About
what?" Willow was hesitant to ask.
"Your
little adventure in the library this afternoon," he spoke quietly,
releasing her hand and passing her the glasses. With simplistic ease he popped
the cork from the bottle and the champagne, since it was as shaken as Willow,
exploded forth. Haphazardly he filled the glasses with the froth.
"Tomorrow you should spend some quality time with the Slayer ~ do some
bonding."
"Bonding?"
asked Willow skeptically. For the second time that evening she was uncertain of
what he was saying.
"Yeah,
catch up on some girl talk...whatever," Angelus smirked and took a glass
from her. " I don't want to deprive the Slayer of valuable time with her
best friend."
"Oh,"
said Willow, unsure of exactly what to make of his train of thought, especially
since his voice was dripping with sarcastic concern for Buffy. "Okay
then."
"Good.
What shall we toast?" he asked, watching her over the top of his glass.
"Mercedes
for having tires that grip," replied Willow flippantly. Angelus smiled and
raised his glass in salute.
"To
Mercedes," he offered, tapping his glass against hers and sipping the
wine. Willow, on the other hand, gulped hers down, only to have Angelus
immediately top it up again. "What else?"
"I
don't know..." Willow frowned, staring at her glass as Angelus looped her
free hand through the crook of his elbow and began to walk her amongst the
graves. "Are you meant to make a toast for every glass?"
"We
shall tonight," he replied, walking slowly, keeping their bodies close.
"So what else?"
"Umm,
complimentary bottles of champagne," offered Willow, struggling for ideas.
"To
free champagne," Angelus shook his head and smirked, again tapping his
glass against Willow's. They matched each other, one sip for Angelus, one
glassful for Willow. The glasses were refilled and the demand made for another
toast as they continued their strolling. By the time the need for toasts ran
out they were lost amongst the tangle of graves.
"Uh
oh, no more," Angelus stated, turning the bottle upside down and shaking
it. Pouting, Willow tilted her head back to look up at him, perched on a grave,
and stumbled backwards. Angelus' hand shot out and grabbed her before she could
fall and hurt herself. He grinned as she giggled. "I think you're
drunk."
"Nah
uh," Willow shook her head and smothered another giggle with her hand. She
wriggled her way out of his grasp, twirling her champagne flute between long
fingers as she strolled along, wavering and stumbling slightly. "Just
tipsy."
"Why
don't you walk on the graves?" asked Angelus doing exactly that as he
walked idly beside her, stepping from one grave to the next. Willow paused in
her wandering and turned to look at him, childish seriousness gracing her
features.
"It's
disrespectful," it was almost a whisper, as if she were being impolite by
merely talking about it. Angelus grinned and squatted down on the high grave so
he could look her in the eye. Motioning with his hand, he beckoned her to come
closer.
"How
the hell can it be disrespectful? They're dead," he smirked as her eyes
widened, only serving to enhance the childlike quality of her expression.
"Do you think they'll reach up from their graves and wag a finger at
you?"
"Well,
no," Willow giggled as Angelus proceeded to do exactly that. Capturing his
finger, she stumbled slightly before returning to her previous demeanor.
"But it's wrong."
"Wrong?
Why?" he watched in amusement as she puzzled over that question, still
holding on tight to his finger.
"Because
they're dead...you can't walk on them...it's wrong..." she repeated,
holding his gaze. The only answer she got was a shake of his imprisoned finger.
"Oh, I don't know. People tell you it's wrong so you don't do it. I don't
understand why it's wrong...I mean it's nothing more than dust, right? You'd
think we'd be more concerned with walking on things that are living. Although
spiders and frogs...people should stomp those things to death...they're evil,
don't deserve to be here. Yep..."
Her
drunken ramble was cut short as Angelus jerked his finger free and easily
pulled her up onto the grave with one arm.
"The
view isn't any better from up here," stated Willow, poking the dark haired
vampire in the chest with a finger, causing him to chuckle. She frowned and
pushed away from him, only being saved from falling off the grave by his arm still
wrapped about her waist. "You laugh too much."
"You
don't laugh enough," Angelus retorted. Willow rolled her eyes and brought
her hand up, to accentuate a point, when the champagne flute it held caught her
attention. Looping her free arm about Angelus' neck, she tapped him on the
chest with it.
"I've
forgotten what I was going to say, but I know it was witty so you can laugh if
you like," she smiled and dissolved into a fit of giggles. Once more the
glass caught her attention and she frowned. "What are we going to do with
these? I don't want to carry it round all night."
"Let's
play ball," purred Angelus against her ear, nipping it and causing her to
giggle again before he pulled away from her. "Batter up!"
"What?"
giggled Willow, turning to shake her head at him.
"Throw
it," he urged, jerking his head toward a mausoleum a few yards away.
"You
can't do that!" insisted Willow, rolling her eyes at his inability to
understand the very absurdity and impropriety of the act he had suggested.
Smirking he turned her about, took her hands in his and made her throw the
glass. With his unnatural strength it hit the solid wall and shattered, glass
shards bouncing and scattering amongst the grass. Willow stood for a moment in
stunned silence, her mouth wide open. "Ooh, that's...wrong. But then...it
was kind of...fun."
She
turned and grabbed his glass, stumbling slightly as she turned away, his hands
on her waist ensuring she stayed upright. Concentrating, she drew her arm back
and hurled the glass. The effect was similar, but less intense than the first
glass, and she pouted, stamping her foot.
"No
fair, it didn't go big bang," she gestured wildly with her hands causing
Angelus to chuckle behind her. "Great, laughter again."
"Here,"
he handed her the magnum and wrapped his hands about hers, pausing to look down
at her. "Ready?"
Scrunching
up her nose and grinning, she nodded. With ease, he pulled back and then
launched the bottle, sending it crashing into the wall, shards of glass flying
back and scattering across the grave they were on. Squealing in delight, Willow
was spun in his arms, his body protecting her from the flying glass and she
twisted her fists in his shirt, giggling against his chest.
"Oh,
we are so bad," she giggled, looking up at the smirking vampire and
untangling herself from his shirt.
"The
absolute worst," agreed Angelus, gracefully jumping down from the grave
and grabbing her, causing her to overbalance and fall into his arms. Sighing
she snuck her arm about his neck and rested her head against his shoulder.
Slowly, deliberately, he began to spin them.
"Everything's
spinning," she laughed, lifting her head from his shoulder and leaning
back against his arm. Closing her eyes she held out her free arm, fingers
spanning to catch the breeze as they continued to spin. Or rather, she did,
even as her feet hit the ground and Angelus caught her lips. Without hesitating
she eagerly opened her mouth, anticipating the entrance of his cool tongue and
sighing into the kiss. She gave as much as he demanded, more than was
necessary, and her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling the dark silky locks.
Suddenly
the world was spinning and she was falling, her landing cushioned by Angelus'
arms as he laid her back against a grave. Giving her a wicked grin, he lowered
his head to her breasts, sucking the fine material of her shirt, saturating it
with saliva. She gasped at the sensation, the buzz of the champagne still with
her, at once heightening and dulling her senses. Keeping one hand tangled in
his hair, the other wandered down over the flexing muscles in his back as he
moved to open her blouse. Arching up into his touch she glanced about the area
they were in. It was familiar.
Trees
that were somehow significant, although never seen before at night, a pathway
often walked. Frowning, Willow tried to focus on her surroundings, recognition
flashing through her mind, she'd been here before. Angelus' fingers pressed
against her damp panties as his mouth continued its assault on her now bared
breasts, she moaned and rolled her head back. Through half-closed eyes she
caught a glimpse of the headstone of the grave they were on. It was an empty
grave, there merely to offer comfort to parents who had lost their child, a
place for friends to come and pay their respects to the dearly departed, a pile
of ashes. It was Jesse's grave. With a shuddering moan Willow closed herself
off to everything except the sensations that Angelus was creating.
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