Title: Unnatural 4/8

Series: Unnatural!Verse. Part One.
Author: Miz Thang
Summary: post-Shells, Illyria has a few thoughts on things. The people she has to deal with. This takes a little twist on canon. I'll just say this doesn't turn out to be a happy ending fic.
Spoilers: Season 5 of Angel, up to Shells, and some plot points beyond that.
Warnings: Spike/Illyria. Sex. Character Death.
Rating: FRM

A/N: Oh my God, is this an update? Yes, I believe it may very well be an update.

Chapter Four: Skin on Skin

Illyria had dressed in clothing she had strangely hoped Spike would approve of. Clothes that, from the shell's memories, the shell had only dreamed of wearing. They had no importance to her. And, so, she had no problems dressing in them.

He had stared at her for what had seemed like hours no end; she almost felt the instinct to fidget. She did not fidget. This amazingly went away as he complimented her on her choice of clothing.

She had followed him to the dark table in the corner he had chosen and watched as lustful women propositioned him and he turned them down to sit with her and drink beer. Every time a woman walked over, this dark feeling curled up in her gut and she automatically wanted to bash their faces in.

"We should dance." She said suddenly. Spike looked at her in a perfect mix of surprise and confusion as she stood and practically yanked him onto his feet. She thought it was kind of cute.

He didn't pull away from her nevertheless, allowing her to lead him onto the dance floor. She stood face to face with him, allowing him to guide her body to the beat of the music. She found something strangely powerful in the way he was able to make her hips move with the music.

She stepped closer to him, and they were pelvis to pelvis, chest to chest…and the room had gotten decidedly warmer. She stared him in the eyes. "I like this."

She watched him curiously as his face clouded over with an unreadable expression. Maybe it was enjoyment, anger or lust. She couldn't be sure. Well, she wasn't until he kissed her.

Her arm wound around his neck and she let no indication that she had planned on releasing him in the near future. Her tongue battled his for dominance and they weren't even swaying anymore.

Illyria was tumbling. She was free falling as she continued this wild rendezvous with Spike. As she continued to have these romantic feelings and notions, ideas that they could be together, could rule the world together. Him and her. And she liked the idea so much for no reason. She wanted it to happen. She needed to happen. She would do everything to insure it did happen for herself and her mate.

He pulled away, breaking the kiss and his blues eyes were on her cold ones. "My place, then?"

She almost smiled.

-

There was something that could be said about the fact that she found it much more interesting and enjoyable that Spike was hovering above her in his bed, kissing her, when comparing it to fighting in the training room.

When she had agreed to this night with Spike, she had not intended on a sexual exploration that involved her allowing him being dominant because it felt better. She had not actually expected anything out of this night at all…

She slid her eyes shut in ecstasy. She was even unable to form words in her mind to describe the feelings and sensations that came from finally being able to consummate their relationship. She was determined to not let him go.

Hours later, she had remained awake, thinking back on the fact that she had given into her desires and lowered herself…only she didn't feel as if she had lowered herself at all. She sat up, looking down at the sleeping figure beside her.

Her hand rose, moving to slide over perfect pale flesh. She felt the muscles and contours, thought of how they had felt in the throes of passion. He was hers. Her pale perfection.

It barely occurred to her as she leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his shoulder that she was falling deep into something she wouldn't be able to get away from her. It still didn't occur to her as she trialed them up to his lips that under normal circumstances, foreplay wouldn't have crossed her mind.

She lost herself in the kiss that slowly woke Spike, pulling him from the world of dreams he'd been. She straddled his hips, deepening the kiss as he responded, her hand sliding lower as lust flared within her own self.

She almost found unmistakable pleasure in Spike reversing their positions, her hand reaching it's destination.

She still hadn't realized that she had lost. She'd lost this battle. Surrendered herself to these emotions that had her craving Spike. Surrendered to the advantages to this. To having Spike as her…mate. She'd surrendered herself. Not only herself, all of her. Her dignity, her power, and her stance on issues…she'd given it all up in seconds, just to be skin on skin in between pieces of cloth with a half-breed. All to feel pleasure that distracted her from thoughts of returning this world to what it had once been.