Title: Then and Now
Author: Kat, a.k.a. KallieRose
E-mail: [email protected]
Rating: NC-17 
Pairing: Willow/Angelus
Disclaimer: I acknowledge Joss Whedon as god of gods. All the characters in this story are his creation, along with Fox, the rest of the Mutant Enemy Crew, and whomever else wants to lay claim to them. I'm merely killing time by putting them in totally unrealistic situations :-)
Summary: Angelus takes an interest in Willow, in order to tick off Buffy.  But it doesn't quite turn out the way he expects it to.
Spoilers: Spoilers for season 2 Buffy
A/N:  A huge thanks to Gabrielle and Lisa for all their help and support.  Without the help and encouragement of these two wonderful ladies this story would probably just be stuck inside my demented little head./

Then and Now

Part 10


Willow's feet were silent as she made her way up the driveway to the front of her house. Jenny and Giles waited patiently as she pulled out her key. The two adults made sure that she was locked safely inside before they pulled away, Giles somewhat eccentric car unusually noisy in the silence of the early morning.

They had spent their evening together, Jenny hunched over the spellbook as she sought to decipher the ingredients they would need to restore Angelus' soul. Giles and Willow had searched the reference section, looking for any information they could find on the old gypsy language. 

Finally a point had come when they could no longer keep their eyes open. Jenny in particular needed her wits about her as she tried to translate the words of the curse. Even a small error in her work could result in horrific problems when casting the curse, so it was decided that they would go home and sleep, and gather again the next evening. Hopefully by then Jenny would have at least a couple of ingredients that they could start to track down.

The three agreed not to tell the others of their progress. If Buffy knew that it was possible to re-curse Angelus, it would affect her ability to fight him. Giving the vampire that type of an advantage was dangerous; anything that might make her fight at less than 100 percent of her abilities could get her killed.

An additional concern was that anything told to the three young adults could be overheard and passed back to Angelus. Willow shivered when she thought about what he would do if he found out they were trying to re-curse him. There was no doubt at all in her mind that his response would be brutal, bloody, and fatal.

Willow climbed the stairs to her room, her body dragging under the weight of her need for rest. All she wanted was a nice warm bath, and then the feeling of cool, crisp sheets caressing her body as she drifted off to sleep. Come to think of it, the warm bath wasn't even a necessity, she decided. Sleep, glorious sleep, that was the key.

She walked through her room and on into her bathroom, her brain's single-minded need for rest making her careless. Her senses failed to notice the sharp brown eyes that watched her progress from a chair in a dark corner of her room. Angelus smiled then, enjoying being able to observe her without awareness clouding her thoughts and expressions. She was so pure, so soft, so innocent, and he loved knowing that he would be the one to change all of that. 

Soon she re-emerged from the bathroom, her face stripped of all artificiality and her body smelling of a soft citrus scent. Still she did not see him, her mind so preoccupied with the idea of sleep that it moved her body on autopilot, divesting her of her clothes and re-dressing her in an oversized shirt that buttoned down the front.

Angelus watched silently, unwilling to break the spell that seemed to have settled over the girl. As piece after piece of clothing was removed, the bulge in his pants got tighter and more uncomfortable. Leather, although extremely fashionable, did have its drawbacks, he conceded wryly. 

Finally she slipped into bed, a sigh of comfort leaving her lips as her body slid between the soft sheets. He chose that as his moment to make his presence known, standing and creeping silently to her bedside. 

"Willow," he called teasingly, not surprised that the girl was already half-asleep and made little response. His hand reached up, pushing the thin sheet that covered her body down to her waist. His fingers made quick work of her buttons, moving the sides of the shirt away to give him the chance to admire her firm breasts. As he reached forward to cup one of them with his cool hand, her eyes flew open and the scent of her panic and fear filled the air.

"It's about time you woke up," he whispered, watching her green eyes grow huge in her luminous face. "I was beginning to think I would have to find some other way to get your attention."

"No, I, you--you have my attention," she stuttered, her sleep-filled mind unable to bring forth the words she wanted to say. Her body tensed, and a hand reached out to bat his away. 

He seized her wrist, holding it in his iron grasp, his eyes daring her to try it again. "It's survival of the fittest, my little flame. Do you really think you can fight me?"

Her eyes fell as she processed his words. No, she conceded, she couldn't win against him. But for form's sake, she had to at least try. She tensed her body, ready to attempt her escape.

"No, don't even think about it," he said, reading her next move all too clearly. "I can make this quite enjoyable," he told her seductively, as his hand lightly caressed her breast, "Or I can make it something else altogether," he threatened coldly, as his fingers grabbed tight and twisted the nipple harshly, holding it there and increasing the pressure. He smiled cruelly as he heard her soft cry of pain. 

Deciding that he had made his point, he released her breast, his hand coming back to lightly touch the flesh he had so recently abused. "The choice is yours, sweet Willow. Do you want it soft and sweet, or hard and brutal? Make up your mind, or I'll just choose for myself."

Her mind was awash with pain, but his words penetrated clearly enough. Stall for time, her mind screamed, knowing that such action was most likely futile. There was no way she would be able to keep him away for the four or five days needed for Jenny to finish her spell. But what else could she do? 

"Are--are you going to kill me?" she whispered finally.

"Do you want me to?" he asked, his tone curious.

"No! I mean, no thank you," she answered, her tone the polite one she used for company. 

"Then as long as you behave," he answered with a smile that never reached his eyes, "I won't have any reason to."

"Oh!" the word slipped out quietly from her surprised lips. Could she trust him to keep to his word? Did she have any choice?

His hands moved to unbutton the rest of her nightshirt, stopping between each button to explore the newly revealed skin. Something in her mind screamed at her to stay still. It was the same defensive reaction she had when a bee was buzzing by her, or when some other horror was just inches away. Stay still, she told her body; let him do what he wants but don't take an active part. 

Soon he had reached the last button, and his hands snaked down, attempting to ease her underwear down over her hips. When she refused to lift her hips to help, his eyes traveled the length of her body lazily, coming at last to her face, reading the anger and rebellion in her eyes. 

"I take it you're choosing hard and brutal, then?" he asked, shrugging philosophically as he reached down and tore the underwear from her body. The action shocked Willow, bringing a cry of pain from her lips, quickly stifled when he covered her mouth with his own. 

The kiss was brutal and punishing, his lips taking no time to explore, merely forcing hers open and thrusting his tongue inside. There was no attempt at discovery or tenderness, merely the pure need to punish and dominate her in every way possible. Her body squirmed as he covered it with his, and he gave a sardonic laugh as his lips left hers. 

"I did give you a choice," he reminded her mockingly, watching the tantalizing movements of her breasts as they heaved beneath him, her breath coming in harsh gulps. 

"I-I'm sorry," she replied, all traces of rebellion gone from her soft eyes now, replaced by resignation and the understanding that it was within her power to make this easier on herself.

"Hmmm...is your apology too little, too late? Or should I show you that I can be merciful, if given the proper incentive?" he murmured teasingly, his lips moving over her throat, listening to the sound of her blood as it rushed by below his lips. 'So very close,' he thought, punishing himself with the knowledge.

"In-incentive?"

"Umm hmmm," he confirmed, raising his head up to meet her eyes. Her tongue poked out to lick her lips quickly, before darting back into her mouth. The action was both unknowingly erotic and extremely innocent, and his eyes grew dark with barely-restrained lust. 

"Kiss me," he commanded, watching the uncertainty play on her face before she made up her mind to do what he asked. She moved her face up to meet his, her hot lips heating his cool ones as they touched. At first her motions were tentative, a gentle movement of lips against lips. But when he opened up to her, encouraging her to deepen the kiss, she opened to him as well, her tongue exploring, gently teasing, as she examined his mouth, leaving no corner untouched.

He returned the favor, his tongue delving into her mouth, sliding sensually against hers. All too soon she broke away, taking in great gulps of air, her human need to breathe working against her.

When she did this, Angelus took advantage of the opportunity to quickly divest himself of his clothing. Shirt, shoes, socks, and at last his pants came off, thrown hastily into the corner. He stood before her, the moonlight glowing around his head and giving the appearance of a halo. Willow knew that nothing could be further from the truth. But if she could keep him from killing her, then maybe, just maybe, she could make it through this.

He came to sit beside her on the bed, his eyes never leaving hers as he delved his fingers into her auburn curls. Her eyes flooded with embarrassment as his fingers teased her, circling her clit again and again as he watched her face turn a rosy pink. She was blushing. How...adorable. The word came unbidden to his mind, making him uneasy that he could ever think such thoughts about a human. She was food. A means to an end. Certainly not...adorable.

A blinding need to punish her consumed him, and he moved his fingers into her passageway, thrusting one in until it reached her maiden barrier. "A virgin. How unusual. Not many of you around in this day and age," he said mockingly, watching with satisfaction as tears began to form in her eyes. She turned her face away from him, the motion a dismissal of him and all he was doing to her. 

His eyes flashed amber and he used his other hand to grasp her chin tightly, bringing her eyes back to meet his. She saw his rage there, and tried to turn her head away from him again.

"LOOK AT ME," he thundered, the voice ringing in her ears like an echo. The hand on her chin tightened and she whimpered in agony. 

"That's more like it," he muttered, her pain satisfying some need deep within him. "Keep your eyes open and on me at all times," he commanded, letting go of her chin to see what she would do.

'Smart girl,' he thought, giving her a slight nod of approval as her eyes met his. 

His finger was still deep inside her, and now he added a second one, moving them back and forth to stretch her tight channel. The action brought another flash of pain to her eyes, and he reveled in the knowledge that it was he that was doing this to her. 

His cock was sandwiched between their bodies, the pressure to his hard length becoming almost uncomfortable as he waited for her to adjust to his spreading fingers.

Finally he stopped, removing his fingers and licking them clean of her juices. He stared into her eyes, enjoying the look of fear and, yes, curiosity that he saw in their depths.

"This will hurt a bit," he said, his voice cold and unapologetic, merely stating a fact.

She nodded at his words, her teeth worrying her lower lip as she waited for his next move. 

He moved his cock to the lips of her sex, using his fingers to open them wide and moving his cock as far in as he could. The barrier of her innocence stopped him, and he waited for a moment, reveling in the tight grip in which she held him. Then when he could wait no longer, he pulled back and thrust deep inside her, tearing away her virginity in a blinding flash of pain. Her high-pitched scream and the tears that fell from her lush green eyes were almost as pleasurable as the feeling of the warm channel that clung to him tightly, and the smell of her blood as it coated his member. He growled in contentment, holding himself deep within her.

A quick glance at her face confirmed that she was still following instructions. Her eyes met his, full of pain and apprehension. This was all new to her, he reminded himself, and made an effort to move slowly, languorously in and out of her passage. 

His gentle, almost teasing motions had the desired effect, and soon the pain in her eyes was slowly being replaced by desire and shame. He reached a hand out to touch her cheek, catching a tear as it slipped down her face and bringing it to his lips. His tongue snaked out to consume it, letting the taste dance on his tongue. "Delicious, you're so delicious," he murmured, bring his hand back to capture another teardrop and bring it to her lips. She opened them obediently, tasting her salty tear along with his finger, and sucking them both into her mouth.

Angelus knew that he couldn't hold back his orgasm much longer, but it was so much more important that she reach her release first. There would be no claims later that she received no pleasure from him; no cries that she had not been an equal participant in their games. His fingers traveled her body, caressing here, teasing there, moving down to sneak inside her curls once again. He found her clit and went to work on it, noting the clenching of her muscles as she came closer and closer to her own orgasm. 

Soon she began to thrust her hips up to meet his, the pain fading from her eyes and being replaced by something that looked, to his practiced eye, like lust. Slowly, tentatively, she snaked her hands around his neck, pulling him down for a rough kiss, waiting curiously to see his reaction to her initiative. When he didn't object, she deepened the kiss, her hands running through his dark hair, pulling it slightly in her distraction.

Suddenly her body relaxed slightly and then her tight passage spasming around him, squeezing and releasing him in a grip that was almost painful. Her face as she came was magnificent: her cheeks flushed, mouth open in surprise, eyelids fluttering like a caged butterfly in an effort to remain open. 

As her passage clutched him he came as well, shooting his seed deep within her. His demon visage came forth, aching to bury his teeth within her and drain her of her life. He chose a spot on her breast, sinking his fangs deep into her and drawing mouthful after mouthful of her sweet, spicy blood. Her eyes fluttered momentarily, before finally giving up the fight and closing in defeat.

He fought the urge to drain her, keeping his plan foremost in his mind. He moved back, easing his fangs out of her tender skin. The marks wept blood still, and his tongue ran slowly over his marks, sweeping up the last traces of the crimson liquid. He had taken more than planned, but there was no doubt in his mind that she would be fine in the morning.

His hand passed across her face in a gentle caress, tucking a stray strand of her copper hair behind her ear. He wondered what she would think upon waking the next morning. Would she be surprised? Horrified? Scared? Curious?

He stood finally, retrieving his clothes and dressing quickly before walkng out of her room without a backwards glance. He made his way down the stairs and out the front door, taking care to lock up carefully behind him.

End of Chapter 10

Part 11


The harsh ringing of the telephone was the thing that finally woke Willow up the next morning. Instinctively she reached for the phone, pulling it from the stand next to her bed and setting it against her ear. 

"Hmmmm?" she said, still trying to shake the cobwebs from her brain. For some reason, logical thought seemed to be just about impossible at the moment. Why the heck was that?

"Willow?"

It was Jenny on the other end, the concern in her voice making it sound sharp. 'Time to paste on the typical Willow cheerfulness,' she thought hastily. 

"Hi Jenny," she answered, injecting a little bit of enthusiasm into her voice, even though she suspected it didn't really fool her teacher.

"Are you all right Willow? It's not like you to miss class, so I thought I'd better check in and make sure you're okay."

A quick look at her clock told Willow that it was coming up on 11am, a fact that shocked her. She must have forgotten to set her alarm last night.

"Oh shit," she said, as the dull throbbing pain between her legs reminded her that there were other things that she had forgotten last night.

"Willow! I didn't think you even knew such words!" Jenny teased her. The young gypsy seemed to be under the impression that Willow's muttered curse was related to her sleeping in and missing school. Willow wasn't about to disabuse her of that notion.

"I'm sorry! I just was really tired last night, and I stayed up late. But you were there, so you know that. And I guess I forgot to set my alarm, and then I didn't wake up, and-and I forgot to call and I'm sorry--"

"Stop, no more, I believe you!" Jenny said laughingly, working desperately to stop Willow before she went into full-fledged babble. 

"Um, okay," Willow tried to hide the relief in her voice. Apparently she succeeded, because when her friend spoke again, it was with a voice that held a lot of laughter, and just a small hint of concern.

"So, you're okay? Can I tell Giles you'll be in after school for more research? I think I've got the first half-dozen ingredients translated, so you guys can start with that. Giles will send the others out on some wild goose chase or something, so we can concentrate."

"Great! I'll be there," she chirped, mentally calculating how much more sleep she would be able to get before she had to be up to meet them in the library.

Jenny said her good-byes and hung up, leaving Willow alone with her thoughts. 

Willow tried to stretch, but the pain between her legs made her wince and she decided that she really didn't need to stretch after all. She knew that she ought to get up and take a shower, maybe even do some studying or try to make it to her last couple of classes. But the bed was so warm and comfortable, and her body was so tired, that she made it only as far as the bathroom, and then back into her bed.

It was mid-afternoon before she woke again, and this time going back to sleep was not really an option. Willow knew that it was past time for her to think about what had happened last night, and try to figure out how to keep it from happening again.

Angelus had fucked her. Sure, she could pretty it up by saying they had 'made love' or 'had sex' but she would be fooling nobody with such a statement. They had fucked...there had been no emotion between them other than lust. Well, maybe there had been a bit of fear and a smidgen of curiosity on her part, but certainly not the kind of affection or love that she had always imagined her first time would involve.

She always thought that her first time would be centered around someone she loved and cherished, someone who cared for her and would move heaven and earth for her. Instead, she had wasted that precious gift on a vampire who was out for a quick fuck. Even worse, a vampire who was only using her to get back at her friend. Shame and regret flooded her body as her mind replayed every caress she had given him, every kiss they had shared, and every thrust of his hips that she had met with her own.

God, how could she have done that? Sure, he was an evil demon and he hadn't really given her much choice. But after an initial weak attempt to fight him, she had responded to him, had encouraged him, she had even cum for him. What sort of a person was she? Had she been so easily ruled by her lust that sensible thought had completely left the building? Whatever excuses her feeble mind came up with would not be enough to compensate for the horror and self-loathing she felt right now. Her actions had been wrong, and she knew it. 

And what about Buffy? Buffy was one of her best friends, and she had thrown that away without a second thought. She had slept with the one man that meant more to her friend than life itself. Well, she had slept with his body. The person within was nothing like the Angel they all remembered and missed. God, why do things have to be this complicated?

She got up and headed for the bathroom, hoping that a burning hot shower would rid her of the feel of his hands on her body; his cock inside her, and his fangs on her breast. 

Oh god! The bite mark. She looked down at her breasts, and there it was: twin punctures surrounded by angry red skin. She ran her fingers lightly over the flesh, surprised and horrified when she felt a tingle of lust rush through her. "STOP!" she yelled aloud, terrified that such an innocent gesture could invoke such strong feelings within her. 

Her mind gave her body the commands: Turn the water on. Hot. Hotter. Get in. Hope that it distracts from everything else. Please!

Willow soaped and rinsed, scrubbing the flushed skin harshly in an effort to erase the memory of his body against hers, as she cleaned herself of his touch. She washed and dried, brushed and spit, and through it all she kept her mind busy with extremely sensible thoughts: what she needed to do in school, upcoming tests, study sessions, even the periodic table of elements. ANYTHING to keep her from thinking of those things she was trying so desperately not to think about.

Her short walk to the school, usually a time spent in thought and quiet reflection, seemed to take forever today. Doubts assailed her, and her feet moved slower and slower. What if her friends found out...what would they do to her? What would they think of her? The wedge that seemed to be driving her away from them would completely break them apart if that happened, and she didn't think she could bear it. 

But they would never know, Willow tried to convince herself. She would never tell them. Never ever. And Angelus--oh god, he would probably tell Buffy the first time he saw her. Seducing Buffy's best friend would be the feather in his rather full cap, the piece de resistance in his attempt to break the slayer. Of course he would tell her. It was just a matter of when. He would wait for the best moment - the time when it would have the deepest impact on her. Angelus was a master tactician. 

Willow's only hope was that they could resoul him before he had the chance to spring his surprise.

Progress had been made tonight, and for that Willow was incredibly grateful. Jenny had given them a shopping list of items for the spell, and they had managed to secure them all. Willow had tackled the task with ingenuity and a single-mindedness that had surprised the two adults, and she had managed to secure one item that Giles himself had been unable to find.

There was one problem that they hadn't counted on, however: The Orb of Thessulah. When Jenny had mentioned that they would need one, Giles had looked rather sheepish and mentioned that he had one in his office. He had apparently been using it as a paperweight. Orbs were few and far between these days, so they had all been grateful that the Watcher had one on hand.

However, his look of sheepishness had turned to one of disappointment and anger when he entered his office and reappeared with the pieces of a broken orb, along with a note from Xander, apologizing for sitting on his 'pretty shiny thing.' Giles had practically shook with anger at the boy's carelessness, but Jenny managed to calm him down, suggesting that Willow might be able to find one online.

Sure enough, there were two of them on eBay, and with the help of Giles' credit card, they would soon become the owners of a brand new orb, or rather one ancient, tried and true orb. Subject to three to five days shipping, of course.

Willow wondered idly whether she would be alive in three to five days. If she looked at the question in a purely clinical way, it was easier not to be afraid. She had no illusions about the fact that once the time was right, Angelus would kill her. Last night was just--just a vampire killing time, she thought bitterly. Once he decided that Buffy was ready, he would kill Willow and leave her body, no doubt violated and drained of blood, to be found by her best friend.

The thought crossed her mind that she could tell someone what was happening to her, but she knew that she wouldn't. Ever since he had begun concentrating his attentions on her, he had left Buffy and the rest of them almost completely untouched. If she removed herself from his influence, she had no doubt that he would find some other way to punish Buffy - probably something involving Xander or Giles. She couldn't bear for either of them to be hurt, especially if, in some twisted way, she was partly responsible. 

So Willow did the only thing she could. She kept silent.


End of Chapter 11

Part 12

"So what's got you so downright cheerful this evening?" Spike asked curiously, as he observed the wide smile on Angelus' face. His sire had been in a bloody good mood ever since he had woken that afternoon, and although Angelus in a good mood was often enough to breathe fear into the hearts of lesser vampires, for some reason Spike wasn't alarmed today. Angelus' mood was more of a mellow happiness than an 'I just had the best idea to end the world' type of giddy excitement, and for that the blond was grateful. 

"Life is good, me boy, life is good," Angelus crowed, letting just a bit of his Irish brogue creep into his voice. "So tell me, how are those legs of yours doing? Ready to bag another slayer yet?"

"Making progress," he allowed, rolling the wheelchair over to the edge of an old wood table. 

Under the curious eyes of his sire, he moved the chair's footrests to the side and pushed his arms down onto the armrests, then straightened them slowly. The muscles in his arms stretched and bunched, working to take the majority of the pressure. He carefully came to his feet, balancing there for a few seconds before turning slowly to smile at his sire.

The approving gaze in the darker vampire's eyes made him wish that he could do more, push himself to progress more quickly, but the protesting muscles in his legs persuaded him to sit back down now, before he made a fool of himself and fell down on his arse. He would continue to practice in the privacy of his room, where nobody could see his weakness.

"Quite a lot of progress you've made there," Angelus nodded, impressed.

"Speaking of progress," Spike said with a slight smirk, "How goes it with the virginal Willow?"

Angelus smiled evilly, looking like the proverbial cat that caught the canary. For the briefest of moments, Spike almost felt sorry for the redhead. She had seemed such a shy little thing. He wondered what she would look like when Angelus was through with her.

"Not so virginal anymore, my sweet little Willow," he replied, the smile widening with pride. "She didn't even know what hit her. So very innocent. And her blood, Spike. I've never had anything like it. It's amazing," he purred, his eyes closing as his mind flashing back to the sweet, spicy flavor of her.

"So what's next on the agenda? Leave her body on the slayer's doorstep?"

Angelus shot him a sharp look, eyes flashing amber. "Eventually," he said finally. "But not for a while. I'm not through playing yet."

Angelus wandered the streets of Sunnydale, his steps sure and confident. He was in command of this town, and everyone, except a certain blonde slayer, knew it. A slight frown crossed his face as he passed by the house of one Willow Rosenberg. It was well after 2am and he knew with a certainty that she would be home.

The plan had been to leave her alone tonight, to give her time to berate herself for her foolishness and stew in self-loathing. And yet, of their own volition, his feet had taken him to this place. To where he knew she would be waiting. 

Surely it wouldn't hurt to take a peek, just a look, to make sure that she was there. After all, if something were to happen to her, his plans would lie in ruins and he would have to start all over again. Yes, a quick look would be justified, he convinced himself.

He climbed the trellis to her balcony, his movements betrayed only by the changing shadows as his body moved closer to its goal. The curtains over the window obscured his view, making it difficult to see the woman within. But he heard her heartbeat, slow and steady as she dreamed. He wondered what she was dreaming about. Were they happy dreams full of sunshine and friends, or something darker, more sinister? She moaned softly as the sheets rustled against her skin, and he wondered if she was dreaming about him.

His hand curved around the doorknob, turning it quietly and slipping into the room. Everything looked exactly as it had the previous night, including the sweet young woman curled up tight beneath the covers.

Moving silently, he grabbed the chair he had used the previous evening and placed it next to Willow, sitting and staring down at the sleeping redhead. 

As if she had sensed his eyes on her, her eyelids fluttered open, and bright green eyes regarded him sleepily.

"Angelus?"

"You were expecting someone else?" His voice was low and a thread of humor ran through it.

"I wasn't *expecting* anyone," she said, frowning. Waking up with a master vampire hanging over you could definitely be disconcerting. And NOT something she wanted to make a habit of.

She struggled to sit upright against the headboard, hoping that would help her to feel a little less vulnerable. The movement reminded her of the soreness she still felt between her legs, and she flinched just a bit.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, his voice a mixture of curiosity and masculine pride. His fingers snaked under the covers and between her legs, pushing her underwear down to her knees.

She attempted to squirm away from him, but he laid his other hand down on her abdomen, pressing her into the soft sheets below. "Stop that," he admonished softly, watching her eyes as they darted about the room, never quite settling on his face. He was fascinated with her expressive face, using it to gauge her level of pleasure or discomfort. His fingers darted around her sex, stroking teasingly one minute, thrusting deep within her the next. 
"Willow," he called, waiting until her eyes returned to his face. "Would you like to cum?"

His fingers began a gentle gliding motion within her, while his thumb caressed her clit. The little nub was soon hard and tender, and Angelus could see that her eyes had the glazed look of someone who is about to give in to passion. 

"Is that a yes?" he asked, speeding the movement of his fingers. She was close, and soon her mouth opened, emitting a low moan of pleasure. Her body went taut, and her inner muscles caressed his fingers as they moved within her, prolonging her release.

Willow closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the lassitude she felt as her body began to relax. How could something that was so wrong feel so damn good, she wondered. Her confused eyes met Angelus' fathomless gaze and seemed to ask for answers.

"What is it?" he asked curiously, wondering what kinds of thoughts consumed her mind at a time like this.

"It's, no, nothing. It's nothing," she said, too embarrassed to say what she was really thinking, yet too honest to make up something just to appease him.

"I can't answer your question if you never ask it," he told her.

"It's not like I can expect you to be honest anyway, Angelus. Everything you do is part of a plan, isn't it? A measured, calculated plan to hurt Buffy," she accused bitterly. 

Ah, he thought, the wonderful trappings of guilt. He recognized the symptoms well; after all, he had spent the last several decades watching the soul struggle with just that emotion.

"Good old Buffy," he said teasingly, a nasty edge to his voice. "The good friend who does nothing but betray you and hurt you. And yet you still feel guilty; I bet you even feel like you've wronged her, don't you?"

"Haven't I?" Willow asked sadly. "This whole thing," she waved her arm, encompassing the room, the scene, him, her, and who knew what else, "It's wrong, Angelus. Maybe it feels good, but it's still wrong."

"And yet on some level, deep down where you push all the unpleasant thoughts that you don't want to acknowledge, it makes you happy. Doesn't it?" He looked at her, daring her to lie; daring her to deny what she felt.

She was silent for a moment, her eyes taking on a far-away look. "Maybe it's not so much that it makes me happy, as it is that it gives me something I think is lacking in my life right now," she said slowly, trying to organize her thoughts and feelings into something that she could explain aloud.

"It's just that, I feel like life should be this bright, shining adventure, full of excitement and interesting discoveries. I mean, I'm not getting any younger. This is supposed to be the best time of my life, isn't it? But I seem to be stuck in this humdrum existence, always doing what is expected of me, and maybe I'm getting just a bit tired of it." She stopped a moment, waiting for his reaction.

Angelus smiled slightly, sensing that she had more to say. He nodded his head, waiting for her to continue.

"There should be more to life. And for everyone else, it seems as if there *is* more. Like, everyone else is dancing to this really cool music, but for some reason I just can't hear it. And sometimes, when I do catch a bit of the melody, it still leaves me empty inside. Why is that? What's wrong with me? Why can't I be like everyone else?"

She looked at him with a mixture of emotions in those clear green eyes: embarrassment at having exposed so much of her inner turmoil, fear of his reaction, curiosity, and just the slightest bit of hope. These were questions that had plagued her for years, and she despaired of ever finding the answers.

Angelus reached out a hand, running it lightly along the curve of her jaw in a soft caress. The derision she had half expected to see in his eyes was absent; instead, his gaze was almost gentle.

"Willow, you're unique. You may not hear the music that others dance to, but you see colors that they can only dream of." He glanced at her, glad to see that for once she seemed to be accepting his words at face value, and not tearing herself down. "Do you think that you're the only one who yearns for something more? Well you're not. You're just one of the few that is brave enough to admit it."

Her cheeks flushed faintly at the implied praise, and she seemed to hang on his every word. Ever the eager student, he thought.

"But the important question is," he whispered, his lips coming to rest upon hers, "Are you brave enough to do something about it?"

He saw the confusion in her eyes, and pulled back, continuing with a quiet intensity. "If the opportunity presented itself-the opportunity for something more, something better, would you grasp it with both hands and hang on tight, or would you hide behind your archaic ideals of right and wrong, good and bad, afraid to step outside of your self-imposed prison?"


End of Chapter 12

Part 13


"If the opportunity presented itself-the opportunity for something more, something better, would you grasp it with both hands and hang on tight, or would you hide behind your archaic ideals of right and wrong, good and bad, afraid to step outside of your self-imposed prison?"

The words hung in the air between them, demanding an answer. 

"If you think that being a vampire qualifies as 'something better,' then I'll have to regretfully decline." Willow said at last, not allowing her emotions to color her words. He was trying to play her again, she knew, and she was smarter than that. At least, she hoped she was.

He looked at her without malice, a certain amount of regret showing in his eyes. Regret for what, she couldn't be sure. The wheels in his mind were still turning; even now she could see the plots and schemes dancing behind those soft brown eyes. She waited for his next pitch, certain that it would only be a matter of seconds. He didn't disappoint her.

"What do you see when you look at me? Or at any vampire? You see evil, correct?" She didn't deny the claim. He made a 'scooting' motion with his hands, and she reluctantly moved back, towards the empty half of the bed. With simple grace he stood up and stretched, his muscles flexing and relaxing. Then he lay down next to her, his long body stretched out on his side, head on his palm, as he thought about how to explain to Willow how wonderful her life could be. 

His fingers reached out to play with a lock of her fiery hair, and he began to speak in a low, persuasive voice. "Willow, there is a lot more to being a vampire than just being evil. Admittedly," he smiled, "It's one of the perks. But there's a lot more to it than that. For example, there is a sense of freedom that you could only imagine." 

He watched his words take root and grow behind those sharp green eyes. She turned the idea over, looking for the flaws, and accepted it. Time to build on the theme. "There's no responsibility. None at all. No getting up early to go to school. No work. No doing chores, studying for school, taking care of the house, no 'shoulds' or 'have tos' or any of that other garbage. You do what you want, when you want, how you want. You answer to nobody."

"Nobody?" she scoffed, her agile mind seeking out all the things he left unsaid; the secrets he hadn't revealed to her. "I would answer to anyone who was older, stronger and faster than I was!"

Something akin to respect danced in his eyes before he quickly subdued it. She was just too smart for her own good, he thought ruefully. Well, at least she would keep him on his toes. "You would be my childe. There would be very few stronger or faster," he stated surely, proudly. "And certainly none smarter," he added, a gentle smile on his lips.

"Then I would answer to you," she remarked, her mind yelling at her to stop his conversation RIGHT NOW. Her emotions, on the other hand, gave the matter some consideration. What exactly would it mean to have Angelus as a sire? He would be quick to discipline her when he deemed necessary, that much was certain. But she suspected that he could also be tender, as well as fiercely loyal to one he thought of as his own. 

Something about that appealed to the little redhead. Certainly she had not felt that sort of loyalty or unconditional devotion in many years. Her parents had pretty much opted out of her life. They dropped by now and then for a quick peek, mostly to make sure she wasn't ruining things completely, and then they were off to another lecture. Her friends, well, maybe that was a subject best not touched on.

Yes, it would be nice to have that kind of love and devotion in her life. But looking at the demon before her, she knew that the price was simply too high.

"Sorry, no sale," Willow told him flatly, realizing from the look of satisfaction on his face that he had expected no other answer.

"Why?" she asked, confused. If he had already known the answer, why had he asked the question?

Angelus came gracefully to his feet, sensing that it was time to leave. The girl needed some rest, and he had things to do before daylight struck and he was trapped once more indoors. "Idle curiosity," he admitted, a half-smile playing along the corners of his mouth. "I wondered whether you would think about it seriously, or discard the notion without a thought."

"Sleep well, sweet Willow," he said softly, leaning over to place a soft kiss upon her warm lips, before standing and walking to the door, his steps graceful and firm. His final words, "I'll see you tomorrow night," sent her heart racing madly within her chest. Whether it raced from fear or excitement, she couldn't begin to figure out.

Willow had been tired all day, thanks to her late-night conversation with Angelus. She suffered through her classes in a sort of zombie-inspired sleepwalk. Finally the drudgery had ended, and she had fled to the quiet safety of the library. Buffy and Xander were, as usual, nowhere to be found. While she envied them their ability to disappear whenever there was research to be done, a part of her admitted that it was easier this way. She was becoming more and more angry about their lies, and pretending that everything was normal was becoming more and more of a strain. 

By contrast, research with Giles and Jenny was much easier. She could sit in her high-backed wooden chair, looking online for this ingredient or that, as Giles and Jenny did the real work of translating the curse. And through it all, she could distract her mind from the confusing, traitorous thoughts she had suffered from lately.

The two adults seemed to be getting much friendlier again. She was happy to see that Giles was working hard to forgive Jenny and blot out the anger and betrayal he had felt towards her when he had first found out who and what she was. They took every opportunity to stand close to one another, to touch lightly whenever possible, and often they shared that secret smile when they thought that nobody else is watching. Yes, Willow was happy for them. They deserved some small amount of peace and happiness after everything they had been through.

Now if only Buffy would see it that way.

The blonde Slayer had stormed in that evening, her jealous eyes taking in the comfort with which the three of them worked together, and Willow could tell that they were in for some pyrotechnics. 

"It's nice to see that my tragedy has brought you both closer together," she sneered, her eyes taking in the way that Giles' hand rested comfortably on Jenny's shoulder. "Jeez, Giles, it sure didn't take you long to forgive her, did it? Has she wormed her way into your bed yet?"

Giles turned several shades of red and purple before bringing his rage under control--just barely. "Buffy, you have no idea what you're talking about," he muttered, quickly removing his hand from Jenny's shoulder and stalking towards his slayer. "Ms. Calendar is helping us, helping you as well, and she deserves your respect. If you can't manage that," he added, "At least try to keep a civil tongue in your head."

The look Buffy gave him was mutinous, but instead of unleashing her vitriol on the watcher, she turned her attention to Willow. "You really need to get out more," she said simply, before twirling around and heading back out of the library, the heavy doors swishing soundlessly behind her.

"I'm terribly sorry," Giles apologized, his eyes taking in both of the women before him. 

"It's not your fault, Giles," Willow reassured, trying to take the hurt look out of her friend's eyes. He really *wasn't* responsible for Buffy's actions, although she knew that he often felt like he was. Good old guilt would eat you alive if you let it. Her eyes widened a bit, recognizing that 'wisdom' as something that Angelus would have said. Maybe her association with him was rubbing off on her?

Jenny sighed and pushed back the chair, closing her laptop computer and coming to her feet. "Well I think we've gone as far as we can tonight," she said, her eyes red-rimmed from the lack of recent sleep. Dreams of gypsies and vampires had haunted her every time she closed her eyes, and she had finally given up trying to sleep. Instead, she had poured those extra hours into translating the curse, getting it even closer to completion than the others knew. There was maybe another night's work needing to be done, and then all they would need was the rest of the ingredients. 

The one thing that would hold them up was the Orb. The one they had located would be there in about three days' time, so they would have to wait until then before anything further could be done.

"Willow," Jenny said, calling the redhead's attention back to her, "I think we've done about all we can until the Orb shows up. Why don't you take a couple of nights off and just relax. I'll let you know when it's time to do the curse, all right?"

Willow looked surprised, but also grateful. Maybe she would actually be able to get some sleep in the next couple of nights. Well, until Angelus chose to visit her again, she acknowledged silently. "Are you sure there isn't anything I can do to help you?" she asked uncertainly.

"I'm sure," Jenny confirmed, smiling slightly at the conscientious streak that the young woman always showed. "Get along now, and have a good night's sleep for once. From the looks of it, you could use it!" The gentle smile on her face let Willow know that she hadn't meant the words to be offensive, and she acknowledged that with a smile of her own, before turning and walking out the door, her feet moving quickly to take her home.



End of Chapter 13

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