Willow was enjoying the ride home in Angel's car; he had the top down, and Willow let her head rest against the seat as the fresh hair caressed her. Every now and then Angel would hum along the music piping out of the speakers: Barry Manilow's I can't smile without you.
Angel hums, Willow thought, a smirk on her lips. It was a surprise in and of itself, but what was more, he hummed to Barry Manilow; Angel was a Fanilow! That was something Willow never would have guessed about him. She realized she had learned more about Angel in the last couple of days than she had known in the over three years she'd known him. And she was eager to learn more. Because the more she found out about the enigmatic vampire, the more she liked.
She had her eyes closed, but when the car rolled to a stop, they popped open in surprise.
Why are we . . . ? Willow thought, then looked up at the sign proclaiming Revello Dr. and she had her answer. Her mood fell.
Oh right.
She had almost forgotten Angel was taking her back to Buffy's house.
"Well," she remarked dejectedly, "looks like we made it, huh?" Angel's eyebrows rose and Willow's scrunched as her words registered. "Er. . . okay that pun was completely unitentional,"
Angel chuckled. He couldn't quite suppress a feeling of delight seeing the less than happy look on Willow's face; he liked that she wasn't eager to leave him.
"You know we can still go back to the mansion," he said.
Willow looked at him, one corner of her mouth quirked up. "Don't tempt me," she said with a sigh. Angel had wanted her to stay with him after her sick spell, but Willow figured it wasn't a good idea; if Buffy or Dawn saw she hadn't slept in her own bed, it would no doubt lead to questions and Willow was so not ready to deal with that right now.
But, if Angel and I are really going to try be together, I am going to have to tell them –tell Buffy– eventually aren't I? She thought, that not so pleasant feeling twisting in her stomach again.
Seeing the way her face twisted, Angel reached over and rubbed her back. "Hey, are you okay? Are you feeling sick again?"
Willow offered him a small smile; she really was touched by his concern. She shook her head. "No. It's not like that," she replied. "I was just thinking about. . ." her voice trailed off and she bit her lip as she gazed up at the darkened Summers home a little way up the road.
Angel followed her eye line and understanding hit him. "Oh," he murmured. He took Willow's hand in his. "Hey," he nudged gently and Willow pulled her face back to him. "Listen to me; we'll figure all of this out later, okay? Don't worry about it. The only thing I want you to think about right now is yourself and getting better. You are going to make that doctors appointment tomorrow, right?"
Willow smiled and nodded. "First thing, I promise."
"Good." Angel replied giving Willow's hand a squeeze.
Willow sighed, her hand on the door handle. "Well, I really should be getting inside," she was just about to pull the handle when Angel stopped her.
"Wait!" he exclaimed and, with vampiric quickness he got out of the car and came around to Willow's side, opening her door for her.
Willow smirked as he offered her his hand. "My, so gentlemanly,"
Willow saw the slight twitch of Angel's lips in the light of the street lamp; it may not be a full blown smile, but still a lot more emotion than she was used to him showing. He had always been the paradigm of stoicism-that is when he wasn't brooding.
L.A. must have really been good for him after all. She thought, not believing that his change could be because of her alone.
"Thanks," Willow said as Angel helped her out of the car. Her stomach fluttered, but not because she was sick; it was because of the way it felt to have Angel's large strong hand wrapped around her smaller one.
"My pleasure," Angel replied smiling as he gently clicked the door closed.
"You really don't have to walk me to the door," Willow insisted. "It's only up the street. I think I can make it on my own."
"I want to walk you." Angel replied.
Willow bit her lip hesitating.
"What?" he asked. "You don't want me to walk you?"
"Well, no. It's not that I don't want you to," Willow hastened. "It's just . . . I'm not sure if it's a good idea. I mean what if someone sees? Isn't that why you parked away from the house?"
"Well I didn't pull into the driveway to be safe. The engine might of stirred someone. But I think we'll be safe walking the rest of the way. You know I do have quite a reputation for being steathly," he said with the smallest tip of his mouth and an amused glint in his eye.
Angel just made a joke? Willow was stunned. Jeez. What the heck did they do to him in L.A?
She smiled up at him. "Well, okay," she relented. "But just to be extra-careful, let's go around back."
"Whatever you want," Angel agreed and they continued on to the house.
"Well, I guess this is goodnight." Willow remarked as she took the first step and looked back at Angel.
"Will I see you tomorrow?" Angel asked. "You'll come by and let me know how things went with the doctor?"
Again, touched by his concern Willow smiled. "Of course, I will."
"Okay," Angel wrapped his arms around Willow's waist and pulled her close to him. "Well, until then. . ."
Willow's eyes widened as Angel's mouth was coming toward hers; she put her hands to his chest and pushed him back, back up the steps away from him.
"W-what're you doing?" she asked a confused looking Angel. "You can't kiss me!" she hissed.
Angel's scowl deepened. "Uh . . . I can't?"
"Well no," Willow squeaked. "I, ya know, I have . . . icky barf breath." She finished in a sheepish whisper.
Angel's lips twitched ever so slightly. "Willow," he said taking the steps up to meet her, "I've been fighting demons for a long time and have encountered some pretty rank body fluids; it's going to take a lot more than a little vomit to deter me."
"But–" Willow's demurral was cut off as Angel's mouth touched hers. She sighed softly against his lips as her arms went up around his shoulders, fingers threading in his silky hair; she was surprised how his hair didn't feel more greasy given the amount of product he used.
"Wow," Willow breathily remarked as the kiss broke. "That was . . . wow."
"I'm glad you think so," Angel replied.
"I do. And even if it was slightly icky 'cause of the whole, you know, puking thing, it was totally romantic of you to kiss me."
"Anytime." Angel smirked.
"I'm really sorry about that by the way," Willow said. "I'm sorry I ruined everything by getting sick like that."
Angel put his hand on her cheek, gently stroking her cheekbone with his thumb. "You didn't ruin anything, Willow," he assured. "Just as soon as you're better, we can pick up right where we left off." A wicked glint shone in his dark, brown eyes and anticipatory shiver ran through Willow.
"I can't wait," she breathed.
"Me, either," Angel replied, his voice husky as he bent to capture Willow's mouth again. This time the kiss was more needful and wanton. Angel's hands moved from Willow's hips to her backside, cupping her ass, he pressed her harder against him and she felt the bulge in his pants.
"Oh, wow," Willow panted, breaking away. "Now I'm really sorry."
Angel, nuzzling her neck, let out a chuckle; the vibration of his lips tickled her skin.
Willow felt her eyes beginning to close and realized that if she didn't go inside soon she wasn't going to make it off this porch.
"I really should get inside."
Angel stepped back with a sigh. "Okay," he gave her one last brief kiss. "Get some rest all right? I'll see you tomorrow."
"Okay," Willow kissed him on the cheek before turning and creeping inside of the house.
Willow carefully made her way up the stairs and slipped into her bedroom; she crossed over to the window to draw the curtains, so the sun that would be rising soon wouldn't interrupt her sleep, and saw that Angel's car was still idling at the curb. Angel was leaning against the hood.
A smile curved Willow's lips. She gave a wave to the dark figure, he raised his hand in response, then pushed himself away from the hood and got behind the wheel. Willow watched as the car pulled away, until he turned at the end of the street and lights were swallowed up by the darkness.
Sighing dreamily, Willow practically floated to the bathroom to ready herself for bed.
Willow's stomach was quiet as she lay in bed, no signs of the sickness she was feeling earlier. But as for the fire of desire Angel had ignited in her at the mansion – and rekindled out on the porch – it was burning hot.
She whimpered in frustration and rubbed her thighs together, desperately needing the friction.
Well, she supposed she was just going to have to resort to taking care of the problem herself if she had any hope of relaxing and getting to sleep tonight.
She rolled back over on her back and lifted her knees up slightly. Slowly, she slid one hand under the top of her shirt and played with her already pebbled nipple, as the other hand descended down her torso and sneaked into the band of her bottoms. Her fingers were met with slickness immediately and she slowly slid them between her folds. Her mouth went dry as she began stroking herself. She moaned arching her back, as she rubbed her clit. She found that instead of easing her desire, the contact only made the need for Angel grow. She wished he was here with her now in her bed, that it was his hand between her thighs instead of her own. She wanted to have his hard cock inside of her, feel it grinding against her sensitive sex.
She thought how cruel a twist it was that she had spent all this time regretting and trying to forget what it was like to be with Angel, and right now, the only thing she wanted was to be with him again, but because of his curse, she would never know the sensation of having him inside her again.
The realization was like a bucket of ice water dousing her lust.
She removed her hand from her PJ's and whipped her pillow out from behind her head; she covered her face with the pillow and let out a muffled scream, then sat up and chucked it across the room.
Damn it. She thought. Stupid Gypsies and their stupid curses with stupid stipulations. She huffed turning onto her side. She grabbed another pillow and punched it before stuffing it under her head. Ugh! If only there was someway to. . .
Her eyes widened and she bolted upright.
What if there is a way?
There could be; she'd just never thought about it before. But what if there was a way that Angel's soul could be made permanent?
It's not like the possibility was beyond all reason or her skills as a witch.
Heck, I raised the dead! Modifying Angel's curse can't be any more complicated than that.
Scrambling out of bed, she went around to her trunk and opened it; she had kept all of the research she had done about the curse after Angel had lost his soul.
She poured over practically every book she had, meticulously going over every detail until she was sure she had the right solution.
This is it. She thought resolutely. This will work; it'll give Angel his soul free and clear.
Willow bit her lip ponderously; even though she was secure in her ability and certain that this spell would work, it still might take some doing to get Angel to agree to it once he found out what would have to be done.
She sucked in a breath and strapped on her Resolve face for the benefit of no one but herself.
Well then, I'll just have to be extra-convincing and make him agree to it.
She smiled as she sat back and imagined the prospects of Angel having his soul free and clear, and the wonderful things they would be able to do together once that happened; she felt that familiar quiver low in her belly thinking of it and knowing that soon the fantasies could become reality.
She sighed as she let her head fall back on the bed, stretching out her legs not minding the books and papers she consequently knocked off the bed.
She was just about to pick up where she had left off earlier when a high-pitched scream ripped her from her reverie.
"Buffy!" It was Dawn's voice that shrilled.
Willow bolted out of bed immediately, in a panic over what might have happened to the young girl.
She fumbled over her research trying to get to the door. Her heart was thumping wildly and her breath coming fast as she wrangled open her bedroom door and burst into the hall, almost colliding with Buffy.
"What is it?" she frantically asked the Slayer.
"I don't know." Buffy replied with equal panic. "Dawn!" she cried, rushing to the bathroom where her sister's voice had come from. She burst open the door. "What is it? What happened?"
Willow was close behind Buffy, peering at the teenager leaning over the laundry basket, trying to decipher what was the matter.
"What happened," Dawn squealed, "is exactly what I want to know." She turned to Buffy gripping fiercely to a jacket in her hand; a pure rage was glowing in her big blue eyes. "What did you do to my jacket?" She screamed spreading out the jacket to show the dirt and grass stains on the back of it.
"Is that what this is about? Why you're screaming like a maniac, because of a stupid jacket?"
Dawn huffed crossing her arms. "If it's such a 'stupid jacket', then why the heck did you borrow it and ruin it?"
"Ugh! It's not like I set out to destroy the jacket, Dawnie – and it's not ruined, we can have it dry cleaned." Buffy tried to cajole.
"But I wanted to wear it today!" Dawn harped.
Buffy sighed. "Well, I'm sorry Dawn, I got pinned down by a vamp and taking my jacket off wasn't really a priority at the time."
"You mean taking my jacket off wasn't a priority." Dawn sullenly corrected.
Buffy rolled her eyes. "It's not like you've never borrowed anything of mine and gotten it dirty before; suck it up." With that she turned her back on a seething Dawn, who let out a squeal of disbelief and slammed the bathroom door shut.
Willow winced at the noise.
"Sorry," said Buffy. "Did she wake you?"
Willow mustered a small smile. "Oh, it's no big."
"I was just making some coffee, do you want?" Buffy offered as she headed back for the stairs.
Willow stifled a shudder at the thought of that; she had tasted Buffy's coffee once before, that was not an experience she cared to relive. "Uh. . . no thanks," she replied politely. "I think it's an orange juice kind of morning."
Buffy shrugged and continued down the stairs.
Willow followed, her brow pinched as she thought about Buffy's comment to Dawn, about her being 'pinned down by a vamp' and the memory of what Angel had told her he saw in the graveyard with her and Spike.
"So," she ventured airily, "you had a pretty busy night last night, huh? You see a lot of action or was it just the one vampire?"
Buffy quickly turned her back on her, but Willow could have sworn she caught the beginnings of a blush crossing the Slayer's face before she did.
"Oh, um, just one," Buffy replied. "But he had a lot of. . . stamina."
Willow bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Oh, I'll just bet he did.
She still didn't understand why Buffy was keeping her relationship with Spike a secret; aside from Xander she couldn't imagine anyone having a problem with it. She knew for sure that Dawn would be ecstatic. And Spike had more than proven how much he's changed to her. Willow felt slighted by Buffy's secretiveness— and yes she was well aware of the irony there— but she was used to being Buffy's confidant and it hurt her that for whatever reason Buffy felt she couldn't come to Willow about Spike.
She wondered briefly how the vampire felt about being the Slayer's dirty little secret; it must kill him holding his tongue and not rubbing it into Xander's face every time he teased Spike about his hopeless infatuation with Buffy. Willow wouldn't have thought Spike capable of not bragging about such a thing. He must really be worried about losing Buffy to keep quiet.
"Hey, you okay?" Buffy's voice penetrated Willow's musings.
"Huh?"
"You seemed to be out of it a bit there just then," Buffy elaborated.
"Oh." Willow shook herself. "Uh, sorry, I guess I just got caught up thinking about. . . things."
Buffy smiled sympathetically. "You mean, Tara type things?"She gently prodded.
Tara? A lump clogged Willow's throat at the mention of her name. Of course that was whom Buffy would assume she was thinking about. But the fact was, Willow hadn't thought about her since she met Angel at the mansion. Realising this made her feel guilty; shouldn't she be thinking about Tara right now, the girl she loved and betrayed? Not worrying about fixing Angel's curse so that the two of them could be happily ever after. And Buffy too, she should be kicking herself for even entertaining the idea of having a relationship with the love of her best friends life?
Suddenly Willow's stomach bug was back again.
"Oh, Will, you don't look so good," Buffy remarked. "Maybe you should go lie down and get some more rest."
Willow nodded, swallowing down the bile creeping its way up her esophagus. "Yeah," she muttered, "I think you're right."
Now that she had officially crashed from the high she'd been on after figuring out the solution to Angel's curse, Willow, shamefacedly shuffled out of the kitchen up to her bedroom to wallow in what a lousy friend and overall human being she was.
Angel had his head between Willow's milky white thighs; her blushing slit was glistening with her sexual juices. He licked his lips, hungry for her. Not being able to wait a moment longer he dipped down, his tongue rasped along her slippery folds. Willow moaned and Angel felt her body tremble for him; he smiled against her sex and plunged his tongue deeper inside her, finding her clit and lapped at it with fervor.
Willow's fingers in his hair twisted, her nails digging into his scalp as she cried out, Her hips bucking up against his mouth.
Angel enjoyed the delicious pain.
He took her clit into his mouth and suckled on it greedily while she cried his name in an increasing falsetto, until her release burst into Angel's mouth; it was the sweetest elixir he'd ever tasted. He laved it up, every last drop. Once he was finished, his lips made their way up her body and met hers; she kissed him back lazily, too passion spent to use much vigor.
Angel leaned to her ear and whispered, "Is that all you can handle, Little one?"
"No," she answered, in a raspy voice. "I need more. I need you inside me. Angel, please!"
Angel chuckled. "Well, since you asked so nicely," He put himself between her legs and parted and took his cock in hand, slowly he began to ease himself inside of her; the sensation of her tight, wet heat enveloping him made Angel growl.
"Oh god, yes!" Willow cried. "Please, Angel, fuck me!"
Angel was ready to thrust himself completely into her when an annoying shrilling sound ripped from the dream.
"Son of a bitch!" Angel growled, as his eyes flashed opened, finding Willow's body no longer underneath him, and the grip strangling his cock was his own hand, not her sweet channel.
He heard the sound that had woken him again and realized what it was; God damned cell phones!
He shook off his rage thinking. It could be Willow; maybe she had already gone to the doctor. Rubbing his painful turning erection with one hand, he groped the floor for his pants with the other. Finding them, he took out his phone and flipped it open.
"Hello?" he answered anxiously.
"Hi, it's me!" A familiar voice chirped, not Willow's.
His shoulders slumped and his teeth gritted with annoyance. "Cordelia," he nearly growled, "what do you want?"
"Gee, I'm glad to hear that being around Buffy hasn't dampened your sunny disposition." She cracked.
Angel ground his teeth, closing his eyes. "Sorry," he chocked out. "But you woke me up."
"Oh, well sorry 'bout that." To Angel's dismay— but not surprise— she didn't sound all that contrite about disturbing his rest.
"Was there some reason for your calling?" he gritted.
"Oh, yeah," she chirped. "The boss wants to know when you're coming back. So does everyone else, including me. So. . .?"
Angel ire flared even more. "I told you last time you called; I need some time. I have . . . unresolved issues to deal with,"
Cordelia scoffed at the other end of the line. "Yeah, well, I hate to be the bearer of obvious news here, but Angel, when it comes to you and Buffy, things will never be resolved. And as for you needing time, well you've had almost a week now. You're using up all of your vacation days; if you don't come back soon, Wes says he's going to fire you."
"I did not!" Angel heard Wes' indignant British accent proclaim.
"Well, he would have every right to," Cordelia amended. "So," she prompted, "when the heck are you coming back? You are planning on coming back, right?"
"Of course I am," he rejoined exasperated.
"Well, good. Hurry up with it, will you? We miss you; the Hyperion just isn't the same without you brooding all over the place," Cordelia said.
Despite himself, a small smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I've missed you guys too, Cordy." He didn't realize that he actually had missed his friends until he said the words.
"Well, of course you have," Cordelia retorted in a Duh tone. "Look, I better go. Remember what I said; get your butt back here soon, okay?"
"Okay,"
"'Kay, bye,"
"Bye, Cordy,"
Angel clicked his phone shut with a dejected sigh. Despite his affirmation that he intended to return to L.A., he hadn't actually given much thought about returning home.
Home. The Hyperion was his home, not this mansion, not anymore. He had been completely sincere when he had told Willow he enjoyed his life in L.A. He had carved out a place for himself there, made a family. A family he realized now, he really did want to return to. As much as he enjoyed being around Willow, being with her, his place was in Los Angeles.
He couldn't stay in Sunnydale forever. What would his life be like? Would he just sit around the mansion all day waiting for Willow to come to him?
Angel couldn't exist like that. And he doubted that Buffy would welcome him back as part of her scooby gang once she learned about his relationship with Willow. And even if she would be fine with it — which was highly unlikely — Angel didn't think he could be content to go back to being the Slayer's lackey, even if it meant being with Willow.
Perhaps Willow would come with him. She had said she wanted to give their relationship a chance, and the reality was that, in Sunnydale, they didn't really have one. But would it really be fair of Angel to ask her to come with him; he would essentially be asking her to give up the thing he didn't want to: her life, her friends.
But he had to convince her it was for the best; there was no way they could have any kind of relationship together here. Sure, his friends might be daunted by the sudden change of having Willow around as Angel's girlfriend, but they would accept it eventually; Angel couldn't imagine Buffy, Xander or Giles, ever going along with it.
No, if he and Willow were going to be together it had to be in L.A.
Angel just hoped he could get Willow to realize that as well.
Feeling dismal, Angel looked down at his now flaccid cock still in his hand; he doubted he could fall back into his fantasies now, or get back to sleep at all. He had too much to think about.
Grunting with annoyance he pushed to his feet and stomped toward the bathroom to shower, grumbling, "Damn cell phones."
TBC . . .