Title: These things that she felt
Universe: Angel, Season 5 AU.
Pairing: Wesley/Illyria, hints at Fresley.
"Wes?" Fred peers around the doorframe of Wesley's darkened office. There is no response. "Wesley?" She steps inside and shuts the door behind her silently. There is a half-emptied bottle of amber liquor on the desk, an empty glass sits next to it. She crosses the room until all that's between them is the desktop. She notices the vacant expression in his eyes, and his well past worn look, with a five o'clock shadow hinting more towards six. He doesn't move or look at her; his gaze is fixated on the liquor bottle.
"Wes? Are you like, mad at me or somethin'? Fred drawls sweetly to her despondent lover.
"Stop." Anger bubbles beneath the surface. Wesley grips the empty glass in his hand, glancing up at Fred.
"I love you, you love me. What's the matter?" Fred smiles sweetly.
"Don't." Wesley insists, his gaze boring into hers. "I could never love you." He adds in disgust.
"Oh, lord. We both know that ain't true." Fred giggles, a bounce in her step.
Suddenly, Wesley whips the glass at the wall. It shatters and the sound echoes harshly. "Stop it this instant!"
Fred tilts her head sharply, a low voice emanating from her lips. "I wish to explore the Burkle persona further. This shell, it feels things around you. Emotions that for my people are long gone."
Wesley steps right up into Illyria's face. "Be blue, be anything. But don't be her."
"As you wish." Illyria tilts her head back and resumes her usual form. She eyes Wesley curiously, surprised by the hum of emotions and feelings that still emanate within her. "There are more memories, from when her brain collapsed. This form, it remembers so well a yearning for your touch. If only I could explain..."
She places her forefingers near her jaw, a blue surge of electrical energy connecting them. "Is this clear enough for you?" Fred's sweet drawl emanates from Illyria's lips; her mind is suddenly full of she and her guide kissing. Back when the true owner of the shell still filled her form.
Wesley scoffs, laughing cynically. "You have feelings for me." His gaze connects with Illyria's quizzical stare. "Love. You're feeling love, Illyria."
"What does one do with this 'love''? She asks feeling compelled to step toe-to-toe with her guide.
Wesley, still disgusted with this notion, answers in distaste. "There are human actions which you would find foreign and beneath you." He turns to grab another drink, but a strong hand grabs him, holding him in his place.
"Teach me." She instructs, curious to see if he will obey.
Shocked by this strange turn of events, Wesley spins to find his lips meeting Illyria's. He finds her lips surprisingly soft and pliable. And soon their tongues begin to collide, mouths' meshing with one another. His hands grip at her thin waist and he lets out an utterance of pleasure.
She pulls back first. "This form. It remembers... It had fantasized a certain event..." She watches Wesley's eyes rake over her human shell and feels a thrill that she has never before experienced.
Wesley's voice comes out low and rough. "Illyria, it's called intimacy."
She nods slowly, on some basic level the shell has knowledge of this. "Wesley." her lips wraps lovingly around the familiar name.
"Yes..." He breathes, more statement then question as he finds himself pulling her into his arms and her armor fading away, leaving smooth soft skin it its place. She shows no modesty and knows no fear. His lips hungrily devour hers and his hands roam and explore, pleasing the god-king in ways she had never known pleasure before. Pleasure had been in the fight. It had been in the battle. It had been in conquering her enemies. She found urges that needed to be met, wrapping her legs around Wesley and moving to pin him against the wall. His hands tangle in her sapphire streaked hair.
"Goddess..." He breathes as they creep closer to becoming one.
"My Wesley." She replies, awed by the circumstances, which motivate this utterance. There are buttons on his shirt, which are soon undone by her ungloved fingers, and his chest is bared to her. The god-king finds herself overcome with human emotions and rakes her blue-tinted fingers over her guide's chest. His breathing has become labored and yet she does not know why.
"There is more you desire?" Her head tilts sharply to the side, her hands still trailing over the plains of his chest.
"Yes..." He nods and forces his lips to hers.
"You did not wish this to occur before..." Illyria states knowingly.
Wesley's hands grip the god-king's bare waist and travel up towards areas left unexplored. "My common sense seems to have escaped the room."
Illyria watches him curiously. "You would fill this need with me?"
"As good as time as any." His voice is low and rough, lips working on Illyria's neck.
Illyria knows she will be taught the deepest of human intimacies. The fantasies that the shell held for her rugged guide. Handsome for a human. She notes. There is an innate connection between her assumed form and Wesley.
Their lips meet, and the warrior goddess will let go of any pride she held, to become one with a human. To become one with her guide in this world. To unite with Wesley.
A/N: Disturbing? Out of character completely? Or something along the lines of 'the best laid plans'? Hm... may be the title of my next chapter. R&Rs are lovely.