velvetwhip (velvetwhip) wrote in red_magic, @ 2007-07-02 09:45:00 |
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Entry tags: | fic, velvetwhip, willow/angel |
Fic: Escape Me Never (Willow/Angel) 6/10 FRAO/NC-17
Title: Escape Me Never (Chapter Six)
Author: Gabrielle
Pairing: Willow/Angel
Rating: FRAO/NC-17 (for references to rape and explicit sex)
Summary: Jenny visits the mansion and Willow and Angel reach a new level in their relationship.
This was written for the whichwillow ficathon for the prompt: "What if nobody had been there to save Willow when Angelus grabbed her in the hallway?"
Feedback: Please. Thank you.
Distribution: For now, just here and my site. (Oh, and whichwillow, of course)
Disclaimer: I own nothing. It all belongs to Joss and a bunch of other people who are not now and have never been me.
Author's Notes: This fic is dedicated, in its entirety, to purplefeen and lilbreck. They know why. Thanks also go to lilbreck for her beta skills and willingness to put up with me.
Chapter Six
The nightly visitors would be there soon and they were both ready. Angel wore a black silk shirt and black trousers, casual, but elegant, and Willow was wearing one of the many ensembles he’d purchased for her, attire that suited her quiet beauty without doing violence to the shy girl she still was despite her ordeal at the hands of Angelus.
As much as Angel had to acknowledge the crass appeal of Buffy’s skimpy outfits, the short skirts and skin-tight tops, he would never want Willow to dress that way. His mind flashed back to Halloween and he nearly growled. Trust Buffy to think it was a good idea to deck Willow out in the same vulgar style she always sported. It had been almost an abomination. No, Willow wasn’t Buffy. She didn’t need to display all her wares at the front of the market stall in order to be alluring.
Take now, for instance. There she stood, calf-length, moss green plaid skirt skimming her hips, showing just enough well-turned ankle and gently rounded calf to make a man’s mouth go dry wondering what further delights lay yet undiscovered; cream silk blouse giving just a hint of the soft curves it concealed; grey cashmere cardigan clinging to lovely, slender arms, and it was all Angel could do to keep from undressing her piece by piece, a groan nearly escaping his lips as he imagined unveiling her nubile form and taking her to his bed. Maybe it had taken losing his soul and regaining it yet again to bring his aesthetic in line with his age, but now that it had finally happened, Angel could hardly believe he’d ever preferred the cheap and obvious to Willow’s more discriminating appeal.
The sound of the doorbell broke through his dangerous reverie and he took Willow’s arm to escort her downstairs. The doorbell was a good sign. Giles and Jenny always used it when they arrived alone; when accompanied by Buffy and Xander, they all just barged right in. Tonight, fortune must be favoring him with at least the ghost of a smile.
As they reached the door, Angel could only hear the sound of one heartbeat besides Willow’s and he was a bit puzzled. They had never had only one visitor of a night. His nose told him the identity of this evening’s lone caller before he opened the door. Jenny Calendar was here, and without her tweed-clad Romeo. This was a bit of a surprise. Angel had a feeling his earlier relief might well have been misplaced as he opened the door to admit her.
“Good evening, Angel.”
Her tone was stiff and formal, as always, her hatred for him seething just below the surface. She was startled, but also looked relieved to see Willow standing beside him and he realized that she must have been dreading coming here by herself, remembering a time not so long ago when the two of them, or at least she and his demon, had been alone in a room together.
Drusilla had been acting like a spoiled brat lately, but at least she still knew which side her bread was blooded on. And today she had told him the most curious story. About a teacher. And her family. And a curse.
Sunnydale High was such a fascinating place. He hadn’t been much for book learning as a lad - that was dear William’s provenance, not his - but maybe he’d been missing something. Of course, the teachers hadn’t been nearly as fetching in his day as the one engrossed in working on her computer right now, unaware of his presence.
“Come on, come on. That’s it. That’ll work.”
She was downright chipper, the pretty gypsy was. She’d obviously figured something out. Something important, if the gleeful expression on her face as she read over the paper being spewed out by the printer was any indication. Well, good news was always better shared. Let’s see if he could get her to open up.
She gasped. “Angel.”
Ah, so she finally realized she wasn’t alone. Good. His feelings had been hurt by her earlier obliviousness. He wasn’t used to being ignored by beautiful women. Still, it did sting a bit that she hadn’t gotten his name right. Oh well, he supposed he could forgive her mistake just this once.
“How’d you get in here?”
“I was invited.”
She looked confused. Maybe he hadn’t missed out on much after all. For a teacher, she sure didn’t seem too sharp.
“The sign in front of the school: Formatia trans sicere educatorum.”
“Enter all ye who seek knowledge.”
Oh good. Angelus had begun to despair of modern education. At least she knew her Latin.
“What can I say? I’m a knowledge seeker.”
“Angel, I’ve got good news.”
There she was with that name again. How many people did a vamp have to drain to get some respect? Wasn’t taking ownership of Willow a good enough indication that he was no longer a housepet? Seems that Willow wasn’t the only one who still required some instruction. Because this teacher certainly seemed in need of a good lesson.
“I heard. You went shopping at the local boogedy-boogedy store.”
At least she was looking properly terrified now, backing away as he approached the desk. It wasn’t quite the shrieking and pleading he deserved, but it would do for the moment.
“The Orb of Thesulah. If memory serves, this is supposed to summon a person’s soul from the ether. Store it until it can be transferred.”
The Orb glowed as it lay nestled in the palm of his hand. The nerve of the gypsy bitch, trying to neuter him again. She’d pay for this.
“You know what I hate most about these things?”
The Orb shattered into a cloud of glass and dust as he threw it full force against the wall. The teacher finally screamed. Not for the last time tonight, he’d make sure of that.
“They’re so damn fragile. Must be that shoddy, Gypsy craftsmanship, huh?”
Aw. Guess that racial slur offended her. Her terror won out over her umbrage, however, and she was backing away again. Good. He hated not getting his point across.
The sweet scent of her fear was giving him all sorts of delicious ideas. She might just be the perfect object lesson for his lovely, but stubborn, little Willow. Watching her favorite teacher die a painful, lingering death might help his pet to learn her place once and for all. But first things first, time to get rid of every trace of that hideous curse once and for all.
He stood over the computer. It seemed so innocuous, just plastic and glass. Yet within it...
“I never cease to be amazed at how much the world has changed in just two and a half centuries. It’s a miracle to me. You put the secrets to restoring my soul in here.”
With a crash and a shower of sparks, the computer now lay broken beyond repair on the floor at his feet. All knowledge really *was* ephemeral.
“It comes out here.”
He yanked the printout from the machine and smirked. It felt good to have power over the very thing that had caged him so degradingly for so long.
“The Ritual of Restoration. Wow. This... This brings back memories.”
He began to tear it up, gazing into the flames building inside the ruins of the computer.
“Wait, that’s your...”
“My cure?”
How could anyone so stupid have ever become a teacher? As if he would give up all of this- the power, the bloodshed, the joys of pet ownership- in order to go back to being a fluffy, defanged, pathetic shadow of a vampire.
“No thanks. Been there, done that... Deja vu just isn’t what it used to be.”
He dropped the scraps of torn paper one by one into the fire.
“Boy, isn’t this my lucky day. The computer... and the pages. Looks like I get to kill two birds with one stone.”
She was edging towards the door. Goody. It was always more fun when they tried to make a run for it. Of course, she’d be even more frightened if she knew what his plans were. Stupid bitch probably thought she’d just be a drain and drop.
He let his true face emerge as he looked up from the fire that was consuming the curse.
“The teacher... makes... three.”
And she’s off! First a clumsy stumble right into his arms. No fun at all. So he let her go, watching as she dashed out the door and nearly fell on her face while she was at it. Damn her, she was making this almost too easy.
“Jenny!”
Oh hell! Everyone’s favorite buzzkill was here. Dammit, shouldn’t stuffy old librarians be in bed at this hour?
“Rupert!” He heard her call out. “It’s Angel, he’s here.”
She was out of breath and he watched from a distance as she fell into the Watcher’s arms.
“The curse... the Orb.” She looked so crestfallen, even from this distance. Angelus wished he could stay and gloat, but he had a girl at home who needed tending to and it wouldn’t do to keep her waiting.
It was a pity, though, that he wouldn’t be bringing a guest with him. Sure, he’d accomplished what he’d set out to do, but he hated to give up on the idea of finally making Willow the perfect pet... tonight. Still, Jenny Calendar wasn’t the only fish in the sea, might not even be the *best* fish now that he thought about it. There might be others much better suited to the task of helping Willow achieve her full potential. Hmm... wonder what Cordelia Chase was up to this evening...
“Jenny.” Angel’s voice broke the uncomfortable silence as she stood in the foyer, her hand almost twitching with what he could tell was a desire to reach back for the doorknob.
“Rupert couldn’t make it this evening.”
“Or Xander either, I suppose.”
Angel couldn’t resist getting a dig in while Jenny was backed into a corner, both literally and figuratively, feeling rather disturbingly like his counterpart as he enjoyed watching her jaw clench with the effort to conceal her loathing of him from Willow. After all the times she’d made him sweat, though, even his soul had to be forgiven for delighting a bit in her discomfort.
“They’re with Buffy.”
“I hope they can make her understand. I didn’t want to hurt her. But I’m sure you agree that it was the right thing to do.”
Jenny was silent for a moment and Angel could almost hear the wheels turning as she tried to gauge his motives. Suspicious bitch. He could tell that, out of all of them, she was the only one who would see Willow as a possible romantic rival for Buffy, as a possible reason other than guilt and altruism for him to have ended his doomed love affair with the girl. Under other circumstances, he might have been glad that someone besides him appreciated Willow as more than just a shoulder to cry on and a helpful lackey with a knack for research and extraordinary computer skills, but now that very perception could well be a spanner in the works and Angel viewed it with something akin to alarm. He couldn't believe he'd once thought Jenny the least troublesome of Willow's self-styled protectors. If it weren’t for the fact that she had given him back his soul and thus saved Willow from a life of unimaginable pain and degradation, he’d almost wish that Angelus had killed the meddling gypsy that night at the school.
“I can’t give her the things she deserves. I hope that someday soon she sees that, as hard as it was for me to give her up, I did what was best for her.”
“Well, while I might wish that you had come to this realization before you lost your soul, I’m glad you realize now what a mistake it is for you to be involved.”
The words “with Buffy” didn’t appear at the end of her remark and Angel got the gist of things. She was definitely warning him off Willow. He’d been right to be wary.
He did his best to look tormented. “I haven’t forgotten the curse, Jenny. How could I? Believe me, I don’t want Angelus to be free again any more than you do.”
He could feel Willow tense beside him at the mention of his demonic counterpart. He wondered how much of their conversation had registered with her. He had a feeling she understood more than she let on. In the past day or two, he’d come to believe that Willow’s condition was much more complicated than he or the others had previously thought. She wasn’t Drusilla, and her mind, being far more agile, had adapted in unique and far more convoluted ways than that of the fey creature who’d been his first “creation.” Maybe she wasn’t so much broken as she was... altered.
Letting his mind wander right now was a mistake however, and Angel quickly reined in his thoughts and refocused on the conversation at hand. Jenny Calendar was a cunning foe and if he wanted to stay ahead of whatever game she was playing, he’d have to pay close attention to everything she said, and everything she didn’t say.
Her eyes didn’t meet his and he could tell his remark about his soul had discomfitted her. She quickly switched gears and addressed the girl by his side.
“Willow.” Her smile was forced and oozed treacle. “You look so pretty tonight.”
Willow said nothing, eyeing Jenny with the same suspicion she always did. Good girl.
“I don’t remember ever seeing you in that outfit before, is it new?”
Trust Jenny not to let go of her feud with him for a single moment. Even when talking to Willow, she had to fire a salvo at him. Willow stayed silent, so after an awkward moment, long enough for Jenny to get the point, Angel stepped in with an answer.
“Yes, it is. I thought new clothes would cheer Willow up, make her feel better. They always seemed to do the trick for Buffy.”
Evoking Buffy was a risky move, one that might have hurt Willow’s feelings and made her doubt his, but if Jenny took it as a sign that Buffy was still the girl who held his heart, it would buy them both time and peace. He made sure Jenny’s eyes were elsewhere and then he squeezed Willow’s hand tight, hoping the gesture gave her encouragement and told her the truth, that he hadn’t been thinking of Buffy at all.
“Well, what a nice thing for you to do, Angel.”
Jenny’s smile was tight, her jaw almost strained with the effort of forcing herself to be civil and pleasant and Angel suppressed a chuckle at the thought of how much discomfort she would likely be in later as a result.
“It’s the least I could do. Surely you agree, Jenny.”
Angel could play the civility game as well as she could, probably better, and he seemed to have put her at rather a disadvantage. Now all he could do was see how the rest of the evening’s visit unfolded.
“Yes.” She looked around uncomfortably, obviously feeling uncertain once more. Her lack of a ready support system was telling on her resolve.
The silence that ensued was deafening. Willow continued to look at the ground or at Angel, never at Jenny, and the woman seemed at a loss for more to say. She was perceptive enough to realize that Willow wasn’t going to speak to her tonight, didn’t want to speak to her. There was pain in her eyes and, for a moment, Angel almost felt sorry for her. She did, after all, care deeply for Willow and the girl’s antipathy for her had to be painful. Still, Angel’s sympathy had limits. Jenny was the enemy. If one of them had to suffer the pain of losing Willow, it was going to be her; Angel had no compunction about that.
“Well.” Jenny finally spoke. “Perhaps I should be going. It’s getting late and I’m sure Rupert’s waiting up for me.”
At first Angel wondered why she’d made that final remark. Surely she knew he wasn’t going to do her any harm. Unwelcome sympathy welled up in him again as he realized that Jenny was saying the words for her own benefit, not his. She hadn’t understood before just what getting involved with Giles would mean, that whether he loved her or not, she would never be the center of his world. That would always be his Slayer. Right now, Giles would either still be with Buffy or would have fallen into worry-plagued sleep fretting about her after driving her home. He would not be waiting up for Jenny. Jenny would barely have crossed his mind tonight. He might well love her with what he believed was all his heart, but he was a Watcher, and the Watcher would always trump the man.
Angel felt for the woman. Falling for Rupert Giles had cost her dearly, and she continued to pay that cost every day. He wondered if he wasn’t the only one tethered to Sunnydale by strands of red hair alone. Once Jenny gave up the battle and accepted that Willow belonged to Angel, he could see her cutting her losses and leaving town. That would undoubtedly be best for her. She’d never be happy in a world where Buffy was always at the center. Duplicitous, cunning foe that she was, Angel could wish her well once she’d conceded defeat. He hoped for both their sakes that day was soon.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Willow.”
With that, she left. Angel listened to each step she took away from the mansion. At the sound of her car pulling away, Angel turned and saw Willow walking towards the stairs. She was upset, he could tell, and he wondered if there had been any other way to handle Jenny tonight. A way that would not have involved distressing Willow. It was all academic now, however, and Angel decided to stop his pointless ruminations and focus on repairing the damage he had caused. He followed Willow upstairs, waiting until they had reached their bedroom before speaking.
“Are you alright, sweetheart?” he asked, knowing she wouldn’t answer.
He sat on the bed and patted the space next to him, hoping she would accept his silent invitation and sit beside him. She did, and Angel let go of the breath he’d been holding, a human reflex that hadn’t left him, for all its uselessness. Taking her hands in his, and feeling further relieved when she didn’t pull away, he continued.
“I didn’t mean what I said to Jenny. I want you to believe me. You have to believe me. Nothing between us has anything to do with Buffy. Not the clothes I buy you, not the way I treat you, nothing. But I had to say those things, had to make Jenny believe that I still love Buffy. You have to understand. I know you know that they want to take you away from me. Buffy, Giles, Xander, Jenny, they are looking for any excuse. If they find out how I feel about you...”
Willow was looking at him with those eyes again, those soft, beautiful eyes so full of love, and Angel could no longer speak, he couldn’t think of any more words to say. So he kissed her.
It was a passionate kiss, full of all the emotion he couldn’t find the words to tell her he felt, full of all the love and lust and dominance and protectiveness and need that roiled within him, a tempest of feelings both pure and depraved, both saintly and demonic. All those violent, intense emotions that Willow inspired in him. Emotions he hoped with all his soul and demon had counterparts within her.
She responded, returning his kiss with an ardor equal to and even surpassing that she had expressed earlier that night. He moaned into her mouth as the kiss grew more passionate still, as they clung to each other ever more desperately. Even had he wanted to, Angel could not have stopped himself from taking her now, and if the way she held him and caressed him was any indication, she didn’t want him to stop in any case.
He broke off the kiss, taking in with pride her swollen lips and panting breaths. His hands moved to her sweater, pushing it down her shoulders as she helped him take it off. The rest of the task of undressing her was one he wanted to perform himself, so he stopped her as she began to undo the buttons on her blouse.
For all the memories he shared with Angelus, this would be the first time he made love to Willow. The first time she shared her body with someone who loved her and cherished her. It was a momentous occasion and Angel wanted to make it perfect for the both of them, especially for Willow. She had endured so much. He wanted to teach her about making love, that it was something beautiful and caring, completely unlike the sexual degradation she had endured at the hands of his demon.
He untucked her blouse from her skirt and undid the buttons slowly, bending to plant a kiss on each patch of skin as he uncovered it. Willow’s eyes were bright with desire, but she was used to obedience and made no move to hurry him along. When he was done, the silk fabric slid easily down her arms and he made short work of finishing the job of removing it and tossing it aside, his eyes focused on what now lay open to his gaze: Willow’s breasts encased in soft, cream-colored lace.
If he had needed to breathe, he would never have been able to do so. There she was, still so innocent in spite of everything, her eyes wide, looking for all the world like the virgin she had been before Angelus had taken her. But there was a sensuality, too, a knowingness that beguiled him as surely as that purity of soul his demon had not been able to corrupt and destroy. She was an intoxicating paradox and his vow to take this slowly, to be gentle and patient, was being tested just by looking at her.
She got to her feet, surprising him by her defiance of his implicit command, unfastening her skirt and letting it puddle on the floor at her feet as she stepped out of it and stood before him. Her hand moved to his face and he covered it with his own while she caressed his cheek. She seemed unconscious of her near nudity and of the allure she possessed. But it certainly didn’t escape Angel’s notice.
He stood up also, bringing her hand to his lips briefly before taking her in his arms and kissing her again. He let his hands roam over her body, delighting in the softness of her skin, softness that shamed the cashmere and silk she’d so recently been wearing. She was yielding and pliant in his arms, but ardent as well, her need obvious as she gave herself over to him. Her arousal perfumed the air and he could hear his demon roar within him. This was not a scent Angelus had ever experienced and Angel gloated internally that he had brought her to this new place, a place where her desire was real and not something she had willed herself to feel in order to please his demon and spare herself the worst of his torments.
His hands moved to the clasp of her bra and he unfastened it, watching as the straps slid off her shoulders and the delicate garment fell to the floor. He sat back down on the bed as she stood before him. He gazed for a moment, drinking in her perfection. Then he drew her close and took one of her breasts in his mouth, gently teasing her nipple with his tongue and teeth, glorying in her moans and the heady scent of her deepening arousal.
He couldn’t be patient much longer, for all his good intentions, his own need was becoming too great; he sensed Willow’s was as well. He pulled her down towards the bed, the sudden movement causing her to fall onto her stomach; he rolled her onto her back. She giggled at his eagerness, one of those sunshine smiles he cherished lighting up her face.
“I love you.”
His voice was soft and for a moment he wasn’t sure she heard him, but she reached up and pulled his head towards hers, begging for a kiss, silently acknowledging his words. Certainly, he had hoped to hear those same three words from her, but he knew it was too much to expect and more than he deserved. It was enough that she was accepting his love and sharing herself with him so trustingly.
He lay down beside her and began to kiss and caress her again. She surprised him by becoming more bold and taking some of the initiative, unbuttoning his shirt with eager, fumbling hands. This sign that she wanted him so badly nearly brought tears to his eyes and he helped her along, his own movements almost frenzied as he saw the desire in her eyes. His pants soon went the way of his shirt, her hands on his belt buckle making him willing to rip them off his body if need be and making him happier than ever before that he never saw a need to wear underclothes.
Now the only barrier between them was a thin scrap of cream-coloured lace, an easily replaced scrap at that. So Angel tore the panties from Willow’s body, not stopping to worry if the violence of his desire might frighten her. He was too far gone, his need too urgent, to pay heed to any misgivings he might have had about being so rough.
As if anticipating his wishes, or perhaps out of her own lust, Willow spread her legs for him. The contrast between her pale skin and the reddish brown curls that covered her sex was striking, almost too beautiful to be real. He knew he had to taste her, to show her one of the pleasures Angelus had been too selfish, too wrapped up in his own gratification, to share with her.
She gasped in surprise at the first touch of Angel’s tongue on her sex. Angelus had only done this to her once, and then only to taste her virgin’s blood the first time he’d brutalized her. He had never done this to bring her pleasure, to savour and devour her and to glory in her taste and scent and essence. Only Angel would truly know her, would truly experience her body in this most intimate way, use his tongue and lips and fingers and teeth to send her spiraling into ecstasy, know the power of giving her something that was all about her, even as it brought him a pleasure beyond the purely physical.
Soon she was shaking on the precipice of release and Angel sent her over the edge, delighting in the taste of her nectar.
“Angel!”
It was too much for him to take and he came as well, the sound of his name on her lips, the knowledge that she knew completely who she was with, causing him to experience a kind of sexual joy that he’d never known before. Willow had given herself to him, shared herself with him, and that knowledge was glorious.
It was only a moment later that he was hard again, his desire for her unslaked, and he moved up her body, positioned himself at her entrance, and was inside her in one thrust. He stilled for a moment, wanting to commit each sensation to memory, wanting to ensure that the look in her eyes as she felt him, Angel, inside her for the first time never left him. But it wasn’t long before she began urging him on with her moans, encouraging him to move, so he did. She cried out as he began to thrust, her hips rising to meet his, her legs wrapping around him. He couldn’t hold back and he could tell she didn’t want him to, so he gave all of himself to her, demon and man, in a way that was as much a first for him as it was for her. He gave and took, surrendered himself to her and conquered her, and they climaxed together, tears shining in both their eyes, his fangs in her breast, her scream of completion echoing in the air.
As they both came down from their sexual high, Angel pulled out of her body and drew her into his arms as he lay beside her on the bed.
“I love you, Willow.”
“I love you, Angel.”
The words may have been whispered, but Angel heard them and his heart soared. She loved him. She was his. Tonight she had given herself to him as completely as he had to her. Angel knew with unshakeable certainty that his soul must truly be his forever, because he had never known such rapture.
He held her tightly to him as she fell into an exhausted sleep in which he would soon join her. But he knew that when he awoke, he had some thinking to do. Tonight had made it necessary to face the reality of their situation, to think about the future, and to be willing to make some hard choices not just for himself, but for Willow as well. He only hoped that, when all was said and done, those choices would be ones that Willow could forgive him for.
Tbc...