AUTHOR: Goddess Isa
EMAIL: goddessisa@aol.com
SUMMARY: If I told you, you wouldn't have to read it
SPOILER: None, this doesn't pertain to one single episode. Of course, the characters came to be in Welcome to the Hellmouth but still.....
DISTRIBUTION: Sure, just email me & lmk where it's going - I like seeing my name in print =) my site - http://planetslaythis.homestead.com
FEEDBACK: Please, I'd hate to have to Slay for it. =P
RATING: TV-MA
DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, Joss Whedon does. If he ever decides to give them to me, that would be nice. =)
Angelus was happy with his kill for the night. He'd succeeded in killing twelve people and in addition, had converted two more into members of the undead. He entered his lair with a proud smirk, blood smeared on his white shirt, a sign that he'd been snacking without his lover.
"None for me?" she asked, feigning hurt. She could've sent any one of their servants out at any time for someone, she just wasn't in the mood. She was still new at this whole Vampire thing, and sucking blood had yet to become a vanity.
"Sorry," he wiped his mouth, just in case. "I kinda got carried away."
"It's late, sun will be up soon."
"I'm sorry?"
She walked over to him, circling him as she drug her hand from his chin to his neck to his back to his chest. "You'll just have to make it up to me another way."
"Show me," he glared at her.
"No biting," she warned as she led him into their bedroom. "Not unless I tell you."
He grinned his evil grin and watched her as she slid the velvet dress she'd been wearing off. She stood before him in a black velvet corset and garterbelt. She wasn't wearing any underwear, which instantly turned him on.
"Undress me," she ordered.
He growled. He hated those blasted corsets. They looked sexier than hell, but they took two years to unlace for someone without long black fingernails. "Can't you do it?"
"Don't make me hurt you," she threatened. "Don't think I don't remember how."
"I'm scared," he joked as he approached her, pushing her down onto the silk covered bed.
"You should be," she grinned. "I still hide stakes in places you'd never find them."
"Is that a promise or a threat?" he countered.
She leaned back, pushing her breasts at him. "You tell me."
He began working on the intricate laces, eliciting a moan from her every time one of his fingertips brushed her breast or even her cleavage. She gave him what she determined to be a mischievous smile. "Can't you go any faster?" she asked.
"I'm beginning to wonder whose game this is," he pulled the strings loose and ripped the corset off, exposing her full breasts.
"I'll make you a deal," she leaned forward and met him eye to eye. "If you can make me scream, I'll kill her for you."
He pondered the thought. "That's quite an offer. I'm not sure you're up to it."
"They haven't created a woman I can't take."
"She's not a woman, not anymore."
"Neither am I," she countered. "Besides, Drusilla has grown what I would refer to as painfully weak. I'll dust her in seconds." she reached down and grabbed his balls. "Do we have a deal?"
"You still haven't told me what I'd have to do."
She grinned wildly. "You'd have to make that lose Xander Harris a Vampire."
He made a face. "If I knew where you kept the stakes, I'd just fork it over and let you finish me now."
She laughed. "You've become such a baby in recent years." her eyes fluttered across the room and caught sight of The Picture.
The one he held every holiday, the one he sometimes talked to.
The one she wanted to burn.
The only thing keeping her from burning it was knowing that if she took care of the picture, he would surely take care of her.
"Does it have something to do with....HER?"
"Leave her out of this. She's gone, there's nothing to worry about."
She rolled her eyes. "I'm lying here naked and it's not enough for you."
He pushed his body on top of hers and she could feel his erection at the opening of her vagina. "You sure about that?"
She flipped him onto his back, straddled him and began ripping at his clothing. "We'll see who can make who scream."
"I think that would be who can make whom."
"Shut up and fuck me."
*****
She slid into one of her velvet robes and walked around the room, swinging her arms in the air in happiness.
"So who won that one?" he asked.
"We'll call it a tie. I'll kill her anyway," she offered.
"Nah, we can wait. You never know, someday we might have a real reason."
She laid down next to him and glared at the picture across the room.
Thank God she had killed Buffy. She was the one thing keeping them apart. And now she was gone.
In human form, anyway. Her spirit hung on Angel dew on grass on a spring morning. No matter what she did, no matter who she killed, it wasn't enough and eventually, he admitted to still loving her.
She thought about the picture. About what it would mean if she went over and threw it to the floor.
She walked over and picked it up. "I could throw this," she threatened.
"What would that accomplish?"
"I'm stronger than her. Stronger than she ever was."
"True."
"And prettier."
"Much."
"I took her in seconds. I could do it again."
"You could."
"So why do you still love her?"
Angelus rolled his eyes. He thought about this answer very carefully. It would mean the end of his life for sure were he to admit the truth. It would be the end of his love life if he told her not to break the picture. He had other copies in places she'd never find.....
There was really only one solution.
"Break the damn picture, Cordelia."