Title: You're No Mr. Smith
Chapter Title: September 9: Maggie Walsh
Chapter Summary: All of Buffy's friends agree, she needs to get laid. Angelus is happy to oblige.
Author's Notes: Okay, so this chapter was written for Jen who asked oh so nicely for it. I'm really enjoying writing this fic. Crazy, murderous Buffy is kind of awesome to write and Angelus is well...Angelus. Yum. Anyways, what else is there to say?I'll tell you when I think of it.
Thanks to: of course Angel's blue eyed girl, raginspuffyh8ter, xan-merrick, riencrz, kitottekat, ba2006, and princesakarlita411 for reviewing. You guys seriously make my day.
August 17
Buffy walked back and forth. She knew that her constant fidgeting was wearing a hole in the carpet, but she really couldn't find it in herself to care. Willow was taking too damn long.
"What is the fucking holdup, Will? It's never taken you this long to make me papers," she snapped, stopping her restless motions and walking back towards Willow.
Willow turned in her chair and stared at Buffy. "This is the normal amount of time it takes to make convincing papers and if you weren't being such a bitch, you'd notice that. You've been such a Mrs. Cranky-Pants ever since that failed job in Detroit, and I think Faith was right about you needing a good lay to help release all that pent up energy," she retorted, before turning back to her computer.
Buffy's scowl deepened. She did not need a "good lay". She'd already had one of those…and she was so not going there. Not at all. No, that wasn't the problem. The problem was everyone, Willow, Faith, and Xander…everyone was slacking off. And she was really getting sick of it.
She began to prowl around the office again. Ten minutes later, the sound of the printer starting up announced the completion of Willow's job, and it was good thing too; Buffy had just about reached the end of her rope and she was only a few seconds away from picking up the glass vase on the windowsill and throwing it across the room.
Buffy grabbed the papers out of printer, holding them carefully to avoid any smudging. She reached down to the bottom of the printer, picking up the ID, driver's license, and two credit cards engraved with the name Helen Pruitt.
She looked them over, taking longer with the driver's license and ID. She photographed well. Smiling, she patted Willow on the head affectionately.
"Good job," she said absently, her focus now on the detailed information about her newest identity.
"I'm not a dog, Buffy," Willow said, scowling. She pulled away from Buffy's hand and stood up from the computer. "The details about your life from the age of three onwards are all there, plus pertinent medical information, and what not. I hacked into their system and replaced you with the original applicant for the job, so they should be getting back to you within the next day or so."
Buffy glanced up from her reading. She'd have to dye her hair brown for this. She wrinkled her nose at the thought. Brown dye was so hard to wash out. "So, I'm all set?"
"Yeah. Xander said he'll have the car set up with all of your equipment by this evening, and all of Faith's information is in the file I gave you earlier."
Buffy nodded and walked over to the couch to get her coat. She would need to sharpen her secretarial skills before Walsh called her in, and she also wanted to clean up her house before she left. The last time Buffy had left on a job without cleaning, she'd ended up sleeping with the man who had taken that job away from her.
Not that she thought the house had anything to do with that, but still, it never hurt to be sure.
Buffy was halfway to the door when she stopped and turned back. Willow looked up from the computer to give her a questioning stare.
"Hey, can you find out what Angelus is up to?" Buffy asked.
Willow raised an eyebrow as she began to type. "Yeah, but why? I thought you warned him off taking your jobs."
Buffy ignored the question. It was true; she had already told Angelus to back off her jobs, but she just wanted to make sure.
It never hurt to be sure.
September 9
"It was good of you to come in on such short notice, Ms. Pruitt. I just need these forms notarized and sent in, and then you can go back to enjoying your weekend."
Buffy followed behind Maggie Walsh, smiling despite the condescending tone in her voice. Women like Maggie were what made Buffy's job fun. They were just like the cheerleaders in high school who thought they ruled the world just because they happened to have some power. Buffy had very much enjoyed taking those girls down, the looks on their faces as they burned alive forever captured in her mind, and she knew that killing Walsh would be just as, if not more, enjoyable.
Walsh entered her office and after a moment, Buffy followed. She really hated this room. It was too sterile, too much like a hospital or a lab for Buffy's liking. The clean cut walls of Plexiglas and sterling silver and the matching sterling silver chairs and glass desk made Buffy twitch and she was once again thankful for Maggie Walsh's pride.
Buffy was fairly certain that the only reason Walsh had called her in, alone, on a Saturday had been to warn her off Riley. From Faith's information, Buffy knew that Walsh and Riley had a fling a while back, but it was only through Buffy's own careful observance that she realized that Walsh still considered Riley hers.
That's why Buffy had asked him out. She was actually supposed to be on a date with him right now, but Maggie had other plans.
And in fact, so did Buffy.
She had never planned to go on that date anyways. If Walsh hadn't fallen for the bait, she would've just gone to Walsh's house and killed her there. She was tired of this job, tired of pretending to be a good little secretary, and especially tired of being a brunette.
Buffy watched Walsh dig through her desk from a chair in front of the desk. She slid the penknife out of her pocket and fingered it.
"Helen, I know this is personal and your own business, but where do you see your relationship with Mr. Finn going?"Walsh asked sweetly, an almost matronly smile on her face
Buffy plastered a confused look on her face. "What do you mean, Ms. Walsh?"
"What I mean, girl, is that you and Riley will never last. You're just a fling to him. In the end, he'll only leave you with a broken heart, so you might as well stop before you even start," Walsh stated, her voice losing its sweet tone and her mouth forming into a hard line.
Buffy smiled at her and watched as Walsh's face lost its confidence. She stood up then, and began to walk towards Walsh, who took a small step back before raising her hackles and glaring Buffy down.
"Ms. Pruitt, what are you doing?"
Buffy ignored the question and removed the cap of the penknife. "Maggie, you talk too much."
Seeing the knife, Walsh backed up quickly and before Buffy could finish her off, a hard fist connected with her head sending her spinning.
Walsh began to scream, but Buffy stood up quickly and slammed her head against the wall. As Walsh slid to the floor in a crumpled heap, Buffy faced her attacker.
Somehow she wasn't surprised to find herself parrying Angelus' next attack.
"You know, I clearly remember telling you that I'd kill you the next time you tried to take one of my jobs," she gritted out, feeling anger and heat rise within her. Angelus looked really good in a pair of tight black leather pants and a red silk shirt. She couldn't help the lust and memories that assaulted her at the sight, and angry at herself, she focused all her energies into taking him down.
"See, lover, I can't just let you corner the market on all the good kills. That would go against everything I stand for," he quipped back, smirking at her as he dodged a kick to the face.
"Oh, you stand for something?" Buffy snapped, slamming into his chest with her shoulder. He hit the wall and glass shattered against the floor as Walsh's certificates fell from their hooks.
"Of course, lover. Death and destruction for high profit is my motto," he answered cheerily, ducking Buffy's next blow and causing her to slam her fist into the wall. She growled in anger and reached down in her belt to pull out a black-handled trench knife. With expert precision, she cut her skirt along the slit all the way up to her waist, making it easier for her to kick out at Angelus.
This time, her foot connected with his face and he hit the desk, toppling over it. She took his moment of disorientation to run over to Maggie Walsh who was crawling along the floor, towards the panic button under her desk. Walsh hadn't wanted to seem weak by putting security cameras in her office, so the only way her guards could be alerted was through that button. Once again, Buffy was thankful for Walsh's pride. With Angelus here, dispatching any guards that came running while trying to prevent Angelus from killing Walsh would've proved difficult.
Bending down, she pulled Walsh's head back and moved the knife to her throat. Buffy stared into Walsh's scared, pleading eyes before dragging the knife across her trachea. Blood splattered across the floor and Walsh grabbed at her throat, choking for air.
Without warning, Buffy was pulled away from Walsh and slammed against the wall. She dropped the knife as Angelus pinned her with his body.
He stared at the dying Walsh with almost detached amusement. "That's a thing of beauty, lover. Truly artful."
She snorted. "Well, yeah I try."
As Walsh's struggles slowly stopped, Angelus turned back to Buffy and smirked. "Now, what to do with you… what do you prefer Buff? Do you like being on your knees or on your back? Hmm?"
She glared at him. "You know my name."
He chuckled and brushed his hand through her hair, "You're not the only one who can do a bit of research, Buff."
"Yeah, but see I'm better at using it, considering the fact that I was the one who finished the job," she retorted, trying to force him off her.
He twirled her hair in his hand, before releasing it. He tilted her head up and she glared into his eyes. "That may be true, but I didn't have to spend weeks pretending to be an employee to get in here. See, Buff, research isn't the only thing that makes a good assassin. It also takes skill…which you seem to be lacking."
"Let me go, and I'll show you just how much I'm lacking in skill," she said sweetly, causing him to laugh heartily.
"You know, Buff, I'd almost forgotten just how hilarious you are."
Angelus released her chin, and slid his hand away from her mouth before she could bite him. He gave her a smile for her effort, and she smirked back at him, her eyes daring him to bring his fingers close again.
"Did you miss me, Buffy?" he asked, grinding himself against her. He'd been horny all day, the excitement at the prospect of meeting his hot little Slayer making his cock hard enough to hurt. She was just as fuckable as he remembered, though the newly dyed hair brought a frown to his face. He'd much preferred his Buff with long golden tresses. They suited her better.
"Maybe," she said, squirming beneath him. If she could just get her hand to her shirt she could get her other knife.
Angelus rolled his eyes, watching her movements. His little slayer was so silly. Like he wouldn't notice her trying to get at her weapons? And he knew she had more than one; his little Slayer had more knives on her than a door-to-door knives salesman.
"Only maybe? Buff, I'm disappointed. I thought I made a better impression on you than that," he said with mock sadness. He slid one hand between their bodies and grabbed her questing hand, guiding it away from her goal and towards his erection.
"Well, at least I know this made a good impression," he said lewdly, rubbing her hand against his leather clad cock.
"You really think so? I'm sorry to inform you, but I'm really good at faking it. Don't feel bad, you're not the first guy I've fooled," she replied airily. She tried to close her fingers around his erection, but his hand prevented her from closing her fingers. He was so warm against her palm and she could feel her body warming to match him.
He leaned over her even more, his hand crushing into her shoulder. She winced in pain. "There's no way you could've faked those orgasms, Buff. You and I both know that."
He fought the urge to slam her harder into the wall. The thought of Buffy having other lovers angered him, and he wanted to hit something. Too bad Walsh was dead. She would've made a great punching bag.
Buffy breathed deeply, the pain in her shoulder making it hard for her to focus. She was glad when Angelus released her, but realized quickly that it wasn't necessarily a good thing. She watched him pull out a length of nylon rope from his pocket and she fought him hard as he wrapped her wrists together. He was really good at it, and Buffy found herself growing wet at the thought. She wasn't really into bondage, but Angelus made everything seem attractive.
"You like this don't you, lover?" he asked, laughing at the righteous anger on her face. He couldn't resist any longer and leaned down to kiss her. He pulled back quickly, licking blood from his lip.
Angelus smirked. "I didn't know you were in to the kinky stuff, Buff. If only you had told me, I would've brought more toys."
She hissed at him and closed her eyes. He bent down and kissed her again. This time, she didn't bite, instead allowing him better access. He cupped her face with one hand, leaning against the wall with the other as he kissed her. When she began to moan into his mouth, he nipped her lip with his teeth, drawing blood.
Her eyes shot open and he pulled back, smiling. "Well, now we match."
Buffy licked the blood from her lip slowly, and Angelus grew harder at the sight. Lifting her up, he carried her to the desk. He bent her over it and used the cut slit of her skirt to tear it the rest of the way off her.
"What the hell?" she yelled, trying to wriggle her hands out of their bonds. God, he was good. This would take her awhile to get out of.
Probably planned it that way, she thought sarcastically as his hands glided over her hips. She opened her mouth to criticize him, but all that came out was a pained moan as his hand slapped against her panty clad bottom.
Angelus smiled, staring at the red print his hand left on her ass. God, she was so hot. It was worth having to wait over a month to see her. It made the sex spicier.
"Mm, Buff, your ass looks so good with my handprint on it," he murmured into her ear as he bent over her, grinding his erection into her bottom.
"Fuck you," she spat, bucking her hips against him. The stinging in her butt had faded to a dull throbbing, but it still hurt. And she knew it would leave a mark. Her body was sensitive to things like that. Though she healed easily, she bruised just as easily.
"That's what I'm going for," he replied, lifting his body off her again. He walked to the side of the desk and reached around her, tugging up her shirt.
"Hmm, sorry, Buff, but you gotta lose the shirt." He picked up Buffy's fallen pen knife and sliced through her shirt. He pulled the tattered remains from her body and threw them to the floor.
"Gee thanks, Angelus. Now, how the fuck do you think I'm going to get out of here?" she asked snidely.
He bent down and kissed her cheek. "You'll think of something. You're a smart girl."
He chuckled at her hiss of anger and slid his hands beneath her, cupping her breasts. He pulled her bra down roughly and covered her breasts with his hands. He molded the soft mounds in his hands, before letting them go to smack roughly against the table. She moaned, and Angelus found it hard to discern whether it was a moan of pain or pleasure.
"Please…" she said softly and he smirked. Buffy liked it rough.
"You gotta tell me what you want, Buff, or else I won't know," he said, stroking the soft skin of her back.
She glared at him, the green of her eyes flashing in annoyance. After a moment, she closed her eyes and murmured something he couldn't hear.
"I didn't hear you, Buff. Repeat please."
She opened her eyes and gritted her teeth. "Fuck me already, dammit."
He smirked and patted her on the head. "Now, you're speaking my language, lover."
Buffy groaned. Why did he have to make her so hot? He'd barely touched her and yet here she was, begging him to fuck her. She guessed she could blame it on the heat of the kill, but she knew that it was all Angelus. She heard the unmistakable sound of pants dropping to the floor and she sighed happily when he pressed against her.
Angelus tugged Buffy's panties down to wrap around her boots and ran his fingers up and down her bottom. She had the perfect ass, all curvy and soft. He smacked her bottom again, and then ran his fingers down farther. She was wet and hot, and he told her so, murmuring it into her back while he pressed kisses to her skin and slid his fingers insider her.
"Please," she whimpered, thrusting her hips against his fingers. She was so close but he was deliberately keeping her on the edge, pulling his fingers back each time she reached the brink. Buffy didn't know how long she could last like this, and she didn't want to know. She hissed as Angelus pressed her farther into the glass table. Glass tables were not conducive to fucking, and she only hoped that Maggie Walsh's pride had made her buy the best glass tables. She did not want this table breaking on her, especially in her state of undress. She was pulled from her thoughts when Angelus pulled away.
"But-" she started to say, but her words were cut off when she felt his tongue brush her clit.
"Oh god," she chanted as Angelus began to lick her thoroughly. He drove two fingers insider her as he tasted her, leaving no part of untouched. When her words turned into strangled whines, he thrust another finger into her as he sucked her clit into his mouth. Buffy came seconds later, and she stared at the wall with dazed eyes.
"You ready for me, baby?" Angelus asked, sliding himself against her entrance.
Buffy whined again in response and drove his cock inside her. He thrust against her hard, their hips slapping together loudly with each time he pulled out and slid back in. He was so hard and she was so tight, and he groaned her name as he tried to stave off his orgasm.
"Fuck, Buff, Fuck," he shouted, pounding her into the table. She answered with a whimper and pushed her hips back against him, begging him with her body as she was too dazed to do it with her mouth.
Angelus knew she was close, and he reached around her waist and slid his fingers against her clit. At the first brush of a finger, Buffy whimpered again, panting his name into the quiet of the room. When his fingers brushed her again, she cried out and came, sending him over the edge with her.
Angelus was the first to recover and pulled himself off of her. She made a glorious picture, lying nude across the table with her skin flushed from exertion. He committed the image to memory, planning to savor it later when he'd be able to put the image to paper.
He picked up the knife from the floor and slashed the ties that bonded her. Angelus then sat her up on the table and caressed her wrists, rubbing the blood back into them. It was a while before she opened her eyes, and when she did, he was staring up at her, a smirk on his face.
"You know, Buffy, I'm really enjoying these meetings. I think we should make it a regular thing."
She rolled her eyes at him and scoffed. "I'll cut your balls off before fucking you again."
He chuckled, patting her knee. "Buffy, sweetheart, you are such a kidder."
He leaned in, kissing her on the cheek before reaching down to pick up his fallen clothes. He sat on the table and put on his pants, but when he went to grab his shirt, Buffy had already taken it and put it on.
Angelus smirked. "I like you in my clothes."
"And I like you dead. We all like unhealthy things," she replied absently, slipping on her panties under his shirt. "It's a wonder the guards didn't come, with all the noise we were making."
"Oh, them? I killed them on the way in. I didn't want anyone walking in on us."
She raised an eyebrow and pressed her hands to her hips. "You were planning this?"
He wagged his finger at her and leaned in to kiss her again. "Now that would be telling."
She pulled away from him and jumped off the table, frowning. "Look at the mess you made. Our prints are probably all over this room."
"Don't worry, Buff, I already called the cleanup crew. They'll go in when we leave," he said, pulling on his shoes. Buffy walked and stood in front of him, a murderous look in her eye. "You were planning this."
Standing up, he pressed yet another kiss to her mouth before walking out the room, whistling a jaunty tune.
When he left, Buffy picked up the tattered remains of her skirt, before dropping them to the floor in disgust. She didn't know what it was, but she was feeling more relaxed than she had since he'd first entered her life. Maybe Faith and Willow were right. Maybe she had needed a good lay. And Angelus had been more than good ─ god, the pleasure was still coursing through her body.
She licked her lips, her tongue sliding over the bite he'd made in her bottom lip. It stung a little, but he hadn't bitten her that deeply.
Buffy thought about the fact that he had planned this all, and wondered if he had even planned to kill Walsh in the first place. She wouldn't put it past him to pretend to want to take her job just so he had the chance to screw her.
Well, she thought, smiling to herself. Two could play at that game. The next time they met, she would be ready.
She walked out the room, grinning, the sound of her own whistling echoed down the empty hall.