Echoes (V) Kaleidoscopic 1/3

Disclaimer: These characters belong to WB/Joss/Fox etc etc, but certainly not to me. I'm only writing this for fun and therapy. And because there are NEVER, ever, enough flashbacks.

Pairing: Angelus/Anna

Spoilers: Based loosely on events in Becoming and The Prodigal

Short Summary: Anna decides to meet Liam, not knowing he is now Angelus. Their encounter is watched closely, and has some dangerous and lasting effects.

Feedback: Yes please... The address is soofic@hotmail.com - I'd love to hear from you if you're reading and always reply to feedback!

Comments: Follows on from "Echoes (IV) - The Wheel's Kick". Fifth and last in the "Echoes" series. The "Echoes" series is a sequel to Pen Pictures, and the whole lot starts from the premise that Liam was having an affair with Anna (the servant who appears in a flashback in AtS) before he was turned. [ There are five in this series altogether: "Caught Red-Handed" from Liam's POV, "Still Life" from Darla's POV, "Chosen" from Anna's POV, "The Wheel's Kick" from Angelus' POV and "Kaleidoscopic" from everyone's POV. ]

Echoes (V) Kaleidoscopic 1/3

"Joe, I'm sorry. I have to see him."

"I'll walk with you as far as the bridge."

"There's no need."

"I'll not detain you."

"Joe, please..."

"Would you... would you... go somewhere with him?"

"No!"

"If he asked you?"

"I... I don't know."

"I'll come as far as the bridge. I just want to lay my eyes on him once. If there's no danger... I'll leave you."

"Very well..."

The moon reflects on the water, an alabaster disc, fragmented. All around me the silks and satins of the well-to-do glisten and shimmer, and torches glow and reflect from the mosaics of shop windows.

As I step onto the bridge (a ridiculous structure, seemingly too crammed with stuff to stay upright) a strange unreality descends on me. My eyes won't focus; my whole world is dazzling and glistering. Perhaps the bridge has finally come to the knowledge that it is too heavy for its supporting limbs and we have slipped under the water, without anyone noticing.

He's standing near the middle of the bridge. I see him and like the view through a kaleidoscope as it's twisted, the myriad colours of the world shift, realign, and suddenly, he is the dominant pattern. Everything seems to be a repetition of some part of him.

Do I sleep or wake?

(My sweet Liam, I've missed you so.)

(Anna... you're quite beautiful tonight.)

(I just came to see how you were.)

(I understand. I have no right to ask anything of you.)

(How is Kathy? Did she finish her story?)

(Don't let's talk about the family. We... don't have much time.)

(As you wish...)

Due to the stupid struggling of the gin-soaked slut I picked up in Lincoln's Inn, I'm sure I've arrived too late; that the deed is already done. But then I see them, two motionless figures amid the bustle and noise. I'm curious as to why they're so still.

They're talking without words. She is clearly under his spell, and why not? He is powerful enough for that, already. A pleasant thrill reverberates through me as I recognise the symptoms: the vacancy of her eyes, her slightly opened mouth, her limbs full of lead and her heart pounding. Clever, clever boy.

She's already forgotten that leaving is a possibility.

(Are you well?)

(Nothing ails me.)

(Good.)

(Except not having you.)

(Liam, I don't think it can be. It's not right.)

(I want you.)

(Liam, please. Let's be... be calm. Careful.)

(I've been careful - done what you asked - for over a year. And still every part of me aches to touch you.)

(Touch me, then.)

He seems lost for words. His gaze moves over me, taking me in from head to toe. My blood rises; then he makes an impatient noise and pulls me onto him, pausing for a second before covering my lips with his. Fingers are in my hair, pulling, and my head falls back.

That kiss... how many nights have I longed for it? And if I could kiss, why not slip my fingers inside his coat, open my lips under the insistence of his and rub myself against his body. I'm thirsty for the friction of his hands on my skin. Joe - I'm sorry - I can't help it - I loved him first.

(More, sweetheart of mine. My Liam.)

(Why didn't you come before? I've waited three nights.)

(It isn't seemly. I wasn't sure.)

(No, but...)

(You are right, love. I should have been here.)

I look around and can see no-one watching us, so I half-push, half-throw her into a nearby doorway. The recess is deep and she's cast into shade. She stands, unresisting, watching me with wide-open eyes as I walk towards her slowly.

I unwrap the scarf from her throat and drop it to the ground. The white skin of her throat is blotched with red and she shivers uncontrollably.

(More. I'm thirsty.)

(You won't refuse me?)

(I won't.)

He reaches me and places his hands on my shoulders, then lets them flow down my back and fall to my rear. He grabs my flesh there through my dress, and lifts me onto the slight sill of the window, pinning me there with his weight.

I feel him; sense how hard he is for me, and somehow know that this is it, that the final "no" will not be uttered, and if by some miracle I managed to force it past my lips it would not be heard. His eyes flash amber, and I close mine in order to hide my desire, so unexpected, from him and the world. I want to be taken, used roughly, right there, like the common whores I so despise.

(Liam... please... please...)

(You want me?)

(Oh, yes.)

I grind myself into her, and try to lose my hunger in the physical sensation. Then I open my eyes and see her head thrown back and hear her soft gasps; she's incoherently begging me to take her; it's a fantasy, culled straight from my human dreams.

But it's secondary to me now. I want her, but next to the sound of the blood rushing under her skin... My mouth is wet. The sound, and the throb where we touch, makes me salivate. I force myself to ignore it and take my time with her; I'd... he'd waited so long.

(Liam, the people...)

(Ignore them...)

(They're watching.)

(They don't see us.)

(If we're caught... it's a public flogging.)

(We won't be caught.)

(Quickly then...)

He's grabbing my skirts, gathering them up to my waist and pinning them there with his body. I help him; I hold myself up by means of my arms around his neck. I feel the ribbon from his hair coming loose and cool air on my thighs as he fumbles with his clothing and nuzzles my throat.

Then a pain, sharp and hot, the slice of a heated blade between my legs and at my neck.

(It hurts.)

(I know. Forgive me.)

My eyes open in shock and the last thing I see is a white face, surrounded by perfect, teased curls, and a satisfied smile.

Then I hear my own breath, roaring in my ears. And see nothing.

(Liam, I'll fall. Don't let me go. )

(Never.)

(Am I awake?)

(You're with me.)