Parts: 31 - 33
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~Part: 31~
If looks could kill, he would be a pile of ashes, Angelus thought. Willow was glowering at him furiously. He knew he had a wicked grin on his face, but he couldn’t help himself. Imagining the Slayer’s reaction to his relationship with Willow was great fun to contemplate. “Genevieve made the suggestion that you share our joyous news with your friends, sweetheart, not me.”
“Yes, but, *she* means well.” Willow pointed an accusing finger at him, “You don’t. You’re just sitting there loving the idea of Buffy going all ballistic. And, and, probably picturing Xander’s reaction and how upset he would get—which is just, just icing on your imaginary cake.”
“Darling, that’s just not true,” he lied smoothly. He managed to tone down his grin, and now, thanks to Willow, added the stupid boy’s undoubtedly furious response to his fiendish little fantasy.
Willow rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. It was written all over your face!”
Genevieve was looking back and forth between the two with a bemused expression. “All right, children, that’s enough. Angelus, stop provoking her with that malicious grin—you *do* look suspiciously delighted. And Willow, just ignore him.”
Angelus wasn’t perturbed in the least by being chastised. He continued to gleefully invent diverting scenarios starring the Slayer and the stupe and their horrified reactions to Willow being in love with, and bound eternally to, his evil self. When Willow was his captive, it had been important to keep their relationship a secret. Until he had become sure of her, it had been prudent to maintain the fiction he’d created for her friends and family. Now that she was absolutely his, he wanted *everyone* to know about it. Naturally, her friends finding out and being horrified, now that nothing could be done about it, was pleasing to him. It offended his pride to be kept a dirty little secret. The concept of Willow announcing her love for him to the world *and* making that detestable little cadre of hers monumentally unhappy and angry at the same time pleased him to no end. He was definitely feeling more generous about sharing her with them for a *short* visit than he had previously. However, in the spirit of peacekeeping, he did condescend to censor his facial expression a bit more.
Genevieve tucked her feet beneath her and looked at Willow with sympathy and determination. “Chére, I’m not trying to tell you what to do, just asking that you keep an open mind and hear me out.”
Willow’s jaw was set stubbornly, but she agreed to listen and said grudgingly, “Okay. Go ahead.”
“Prevaricating may be simple for you to pull off in e-mail, but in person it will feel entirely different. Even though you and I have just met, it’s plain to me that you are innately principled and honest. Do you really see yourself sustaining lies over a long period of time? *Especially* with people that you care about so much?”
Frown lines appeared on Willow’s forehead and she squirmed in her chair. “Well…yeah, okay, I see what you mean.” She fidgeted some more and sighed in misery and frustration. “Oh, man, telling them would be *so* not good. This is the thing, Buffy is the Slayer…and, god, Xander hated Angelus even when he was Angel.” She shuddered. “Not to mention…” Willow groaned and blushed, “Angelus inhabits the body of Buffy’s boyfriend. That’s, that’s…ugh.” She looked at Genevieve pointedly, visibly emanating dread, “It would be an issue.”
Angelus might be shielding his expressions, but the images Willow’s words created of her friends’ angst and anger, fueled by the scent she produced as she thought about it, made him want to cackle with glee. God, he thought, he really wanted them to wrap it up for the night—he was feeling really horny. He needed to remain patient, though. Obviously, in spite of hating the idea, Willow was seeing the logic of Genevieve’s point of view.
Genevieve sighed and nodded. “I can see the difficulties. But, Willow, I’m sure your friends love you very much. Certainly their reactions might not be pleasant…”
Willow gave an unladylike snort, “That’s putting it mildly.”
Undeterred, Genevieve continued, “But, once they get over the initial shock and anger, I’m sure they’ll listen to reason. If you’re as dear to them as they are to you, they won’t have any choice. After all, *fate* has decreed your relationship. Who can argue against that? You’ll have to explain to them that you and Angelus didn’t choose this union. Placing blame is impossible given the facts. They’ll see for themselves that you’re, quite obviously, happy and thriving. True friends should be able to take that into consideration.”
Willow mulled Genevieve’s words over, still looking miserable.
Seeing that she was making headway, Genevieve continued, “Where there’s a Slayer, there’s invariably a Watcher…”
Willow let out a loud, reverberating groan, “Giles will be so disappointed with me.”
Genevieve’s eyebrows shot up. “*Rupert* Giles?”
Angelus looked at her curiously, as did Willow, and he asked, “Yes, that’s him, why?”
Genevieve’s look of studied innocence didn’t fool him for a second. “Nothing,” she said nonchalantly. “Just a familiar name, that’s all.”
Yeah right, Angelus thought. He’d let it pass for now, but he’d be questioning her on it later.
Willow appeared appeased by Genevieve’s response and was more curious about the relevance of a watcher to the situation. “What does a Watcher being in the picture have to do with anything?”
Genevieve tried not to show relief that the topic was back to more comfortable ground for her, but Angelus was very aware of it. He remained silent as she answered Willow’s question.
“There is precedence in their archives for a relationship such as yours. The Watcher’s Council has records documenting Nicholai and me. My point is, they’re aware of the phenomenon. Which would prove to your friends…”
Angelus couldn’t resist the opportunity, so he interrupted her to ask, “How do *you* know what their records contain?” Genevieve covered quickly, but his watchful eyes caught her fleeting expression of extreme discomfort.
She shrugged casually and waved a hand dismissively, “Oh, you know, you pick up things here and there.”
Curiouser and curiouser, Angelus thought, intrigued. In the natural course of things, one did not ‘just happen’ to “pick up things here and there” when it came to the Watcher’s Council records. He definitely looked forward to getting to the bottom of *that* little mystery, but pretended to be satisfied with her response for now.
Willow was too busy thinking about how the Council’s knowledge might benefit her to notice anything odd. Pinching her bottom lip, she turned things over in her mind and evidently didn’t come up with much. “*Maybe* that’ll help. I just don’t know how…”
Genevieve became more animated and interjected, “But, chére, there’s more! You see, it’s a matter of record that Nicholai’s behavior was…much, uh, *curbed* once I became part of his life.” Her eyes slid sideways, obviously aware that while this would be welcome news to Willow, the vampire element in the room would, most likely, see things quite differently. “I’m certain that the council is worried about Angelus’ reemergence. His reputation is legendary—and well documented. Once they discover the nature of your relationship, the re-arrival of The Scourge of Europe in modern times won’t seem as dreadful. In theory.”
Willow was very interested in what Genevieve had said and was about to question her, but was cut off by a furious Angelus.
“What the hell do you mean I won’t be thought of as ‘so dreadful’?! That’s…that’s just fucking intolerable,” Angelus bellowed. “A master vampire’s reputation is of the utmost importance. He *must* be feared. It’s imperative—respect and standing depend on it.”
Genevieve looked annoyed and said testily, “Don’t be so dramatic, Angelus. How am I ever going to help Willow resolve her issues if you keep making everything about you? You *knew* Nicholai. Was *his* fierce reputation compromised in the vampire community, where it counted? Of course not,” she scoffed.
Angelus scowled at her, but considered her point. The idea of anyone, demon *or* human, thinking he was anything less than appallingly fearsome pissed him off. That was a given. However, his kind had not only respected Nicholai greatly, he and Genevieve were held in extremely high regard. Their relationship was an aberration, but one that elevated their standing—as opposed to diminishing it in any way. The more he thought about it, the more the potential consequences of his union with Willow, and how they would be perceived by the rest of the world, appealed to him. After all, hadn’t he foreseen himself and Willow as a power couple from the beginning? Before he was even aware of what their connection entailed, he’d sensed that they were destined to be something exceptional. He chuckled gloatingly, now pleased with himself and the prestige the future held for him and his woman.
Willow tsked and rolled her eyes. “Angelus, you are so full of yourself. Now that your ego has been pacified—or pumped up—or whatever went on with you there—can we please get back to me?”
Genevieve snickered.
Angelus smiled serenely, “Of course, darling. My ego and I are now content to sit here quietly and not interrupt.” He motioned benevolently, “Please continue.”
Willow giggled and looked at Genevieve, “Sure, he’s smug and narcissistic, but I love him.”
Genevieve laughed and replied, “He’s always been that way and it works for him somehow. Nicholai and I took to him immediately the night we met him for the first time. His self-assurance and charm can be very winning.”
Willow grinned. “And he’s hot.”
Genevieve nodded and waggled her eyebrows. “That never hurts in making a good impression, does it?” She turned to Angelus, “Are you enjoying this?”
He smirked. “Naturally. But while I’d love to savor the admiration of you beautiful ladies all night, I do have something relevant to interject into your conversation.” Choosing his words carefully so he wouldn’t unnecessarily upset Willow, he said, “I’ve intentionally stayed out of Sunnydale recently. Any activities that Willow’s friends might perceive as objectionable…have been conducted elsewhere. In other words, my behavior of late—to their knowledge—hasn’t included anything that would damage the impression you suspect the Watcher’s Council might have when they learn of my association with Willow.”
Genevieve nodded thoughtfully. “Very good. That should help matters a great deal.”
Angelus glanced at Willow, who was obviously making an effort not to think too hard about what his recent activities specifically included.
Genevieve smiled at Willow affectionately, “Chére, you’ve done a remarkable job of dealing with all you’ve learned tonight. Why don’t we all retire and you can sleep on it? You don’t have to decide anything until you’ve considered all the facts and had a chance to come to conclusions that you’re comfortable with. There’s no need to rush, and no pressure.”
Willow smiled at her gratefully. “That sounds really good. I have a lot to think about and get used to. I’m so tired that I don’t think I can even…” she paused to yawn. “Tomorrow I’ll be fresher and more able to ask questions and make decisions…and stuff. Do you have a room and everything that you need?”
“Yes, thank you. James gave Amerie and me a lovely room and we’re all settled.” Genevieve raised an eyebrow at her. “There is one more thing I’d like to add before we call it a night. While you’re considering all that I’ve said and contemplating going home and telling your friends the truth, keep in mind that I’d be happy to go with you. You could introduce me as a friend you met while you were away—which is true. I could lend you moral support and help ease the way. Besides, it would be a pleasure to meet your friends. Not only are they exceptional enough to be considered special by someone as wonderful as you, but the uniqueness of the situation is intriguing to me. A Slayer with a supporting group of friends to help her is unheard of. It would be very gratifying indeed to meet the people willing to take on the burdens and unpleasant realities that the Chosen One’s life entails. This Buffy is a lucky girl. Well…that is, for a Slayer. One could never really use the word ‘lucky’ with regard to a Slayer’s lot in life. I’ve always felt sorry for them.”
Willow smiled wearily at Genevieve. “Thank you for the offer. I have no idea what I’m going to do yet. If I do tell them, it would be great to have you there for support. If I don’t tell them, it would still be great to have you go to Sunnydale with me to meet them when I visit. I’d like that very much. Buffy’s calling *is* tough for her, but I think you’d be impressed with her and how she handles it. And you’re right; it’s time for bed. I’ll be thinking over everything you said—and thank you for all your thoughtful input. It’s very generous of you to take the time to help—it’s a strange and confusing time.”
Angelus rolled his eyes. Genevieve might *think* she wanted to meet that pack of losers, he thought contemptuously. Surely, once she met them, she’d wonder what all the fuss was about. Diplomatic guy that he was, he kept those thoughts to himself. Right now, he was just glad to finally be bedroom bound with Willow. Hugs were exchanged and everyone said their goodnights. The second all of the social niceties were accomplished, Willow surprised him by firmly taking his arm and rapidly heading upstairs with him securely in tow.
Once they were in their room, she pushed him against the closed door with raw hunger in her eyes. She’d certainly changed gears fast, Angelus thought. He loved the aggressiveness and seduction she was suddenly exhibiting. Smirking, he said, “Willow, I like…”
She pressed her fingers to his lips and her expression was beseeching and intense. “Shh. No talking. I’ve had enough of talking, and thinking, and surprises for now. It’s time for just *us*. Here. Now. Making love, forgetting everything outside our bedroom for now. Anything else can wait.” The look in her eyes was desperate and determined…almost feral. “Please.”
Holding him in a captivated gaze, her hands slid from his shoulders and her fingernails scraped his nipples through his shirt enticingly as they passed. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she stood on tiptoe and claimed his lips in a bruising kiss. Her tongue teased his and her lips dominated him with brutal passion.
Her mood change had caught him off guard, but he gladly capitulated to her sensual demands. Squeezing Willow’s ass, he pulled her more firmly against him, letting her feel his rock hard shaft. Whatever she wanted in this wanton state, she sure as hell wasn’t going to meet any resistance from him.
While allowing her to maintain control—which he instinctively understood was important right now—he ground his pelvis into hers and reveled in the almost violent nature of the kiss.
They were both moaning, their bodies writhing together. Willow was emanating so much heat that Angelus’ entire body was warmed. He fully intended to take her with the aggression that she obviously craved, but at the moment, he couldn’t imagine wanting to move beyond the erotic sensations they were sharing. Their voracious mouths and fully clothed bodies were creating sexual enjoyment that was nearly as satisfying as full out naked, in the bed, fucking, he thought with what mental function he could muster at the moment. And *Willow* was the demanding instigator of this incredible feeling.
Certainly, being dominated sexually was something he’d always enjoyed under the right circumstances—but this was…beyond. Finally, his cloudy brain put a finger on it: Willow was displaying desire and force with the utter confidence of ownership. She now knew, without question, that he was hers and had no doubt that he’d completely respond. He was hers, and she was his, and there were no boundaries to the rampaging want they shared. His thirst for her soared to a previously unprecedented level. Nobody else could ever come close to quenching it—and Willow did it effortlessly. They were each other’s…brass ring. The source and fulfillment of infinite, exquisite longing. The realization didn’t come close to the feeling. Words or thoughts couldn’t convey the powerful…oneness.
Angelus willingly and enthusiastically succumbed to the indescribable, magnetic abyss that was this…this…mating. He was sure that this level of attraction between two beings had never before been experienced by anyone. It was profound, and it was theirs. Together they had ascended to something seemingly unachievable because it went beyond the imagination: Sublime unity.
He couldn’t even revel in the superiority of them as a couple at the moment. This experience and the epiphany were taxing his balls mightily. Coming without his beloved was out of the question, as was seizing the reins. Willow *had* to be in charge…for now. He was so turned on, his cock ached and throbbed and he whimpered in desperation; mercifully she responded to his plea.
Pulling away, gasping for breath, Willow looked at him with glazed eyes and demanded, “Take your clothes off.”
He couldn’t move fast enough, and didn’t remotely give a damn that he might look foolish in his rush to comply. He was too fucking grateful.
Willow was out of her sweatpants and shirt and headed towards their bed while he was still wrestling with his belt. Haste made him clumsy. Buttons flew as he watched her standing and waiting for him with absolute promise smoldering in her wild eyes.
The blatant carnality she exuded without self-consciousness almost unmanned him and he struggled to gain some self-control. Once he was completely undressed, he stood stock-still and uttered her name in a tone of hushed reverence.
He hadn’t even realized that he was shaking. Briefly, he closed his eyes, seeking calm in the face of the storm running through him. He was a bit at sea in the midst of this…compulsion. It was daunting to be experiencing something new—he didn’t know how to handle it. So he just let the purity of it wash over him and opened his eyes.
Willow’s arms were opened to receive him. It was reassuring to him to see she was overwhelmed herself. Their eyes locked and he walked into her embrace. She singed him with her heat and their lips melded in primal consummation.
It felt like Willow’s hands were everywhere at once. Her possessive stroking of his back and ass left fiery trails on his skin. His cock jumped when she squeezed his hips and thrust into him. Abandoning his attempt to let her be in control, he pushed her onto the bed, falling between her splayed legs. He took her face in his hands and kissed her with all the passion building up inside of him and thrust his hard cock against her wet cunt without entering her. Her nails scratched a bloody path down his back, making him howl and he thrust harder. Willow raised her knees and maneuvered her hips, trying desperately to force his entry, but he resisted. She mewled in protest even as her lips continued to devour his hungrily.
He couldn’t fuck her yet. Not yet, not yet, not yet, he chanted to himself. He wanted to draw out this momentous occasion. But, god, he thought with frustration, the desire to ruthlessly drive into her with all of his might was tempting.
He couldn’t allow the culmination of this coupling to be routine in any way. Somewhere deep within him, the strength came to pull his lips from hers. She responded by fiercely biting his tongue in an effort to hold on.
He roared and let his blood from the bite flow into both of their mouths. Thinking he’d succumbed to her demand, she resumed the kiss. Not giving her a chance to react this time, he held her head down by roughly grasping her hair and pulled away. Her expression was one of animalistic lust, but the sight of his blood smeared on her lips was what he focused on. It incited him into an avaricious frenzy, but one determined to make sure that her pleasure matched the enormous depth of feeling running through him. He *needed* to physically communicate his euphoria.
Willow keened and moaned insensibly as her body shook with need. He responded with a guttural groan and sank his fangs into the delicate skin and tender flesh of her neck. Her blood was divine ambrosia and her frantically bucking hips abused his excruciatingly hard cock. Sheer force of will kept him from coming as she screamed his name in orgasm. While shudders ran through her, he soothingly laved the wound he’d caused.
Willow’s delirious murmurings of satisfaction hummed through him as he continued his ardent assault. Her experiencing *repeated* explosions of completion was his sole objective right now—no matter how badly he wanted to seek his own release. He was on a sacred mission.
Moving down her body, he feasted on the sight of her heaving breasts and sucked one perfect, succulent nipple into the vacuum of his mouth, swirling his tongue reverently. The taste of her and the texture of the tight bud made him greedy and he pulled as much of her beautiful tit into his mouth as he could manage.
Willow was grunting her encouragement and pulling his hair painfully as she buried her fingers in it, pressing him more firmly against her. Her hips thrust up rhythmically, but he continued undeterred. He switched his attentions to her other breast, but squeezed the one he had deserted lovingly, occasionally alternating his touch with a painful tweak to the distended nipple. It was impossible to discern the difference between her reactions to the pain and pleasure. Surely no more perfect woman had ever walked the earth, he thought with deep, abiding devotion.
Willow squirmed and moaned in the throes of passion; he could feel the tension in her building again to a fever pitch. He increased his efforts, and when her body began to go taut, sank his fangs into her breast, pushing her over the edge and tasting her as she came like a freight train. Her body’s seizures threatened to bounce him off, so he braced himself and was careful not to tear her skin with his fangs. As her body settled down, he licked and nursed at the wound, periodically squeezing gently to release more blood. Purring loudly, he temporarily lost himself in the moment.
Willow’s feet teasing his ass brought him out of his trance, and he growled, viciously aroused, as her toes traced his crack and nudged his asshole. Her hot, wet snatch was pulsing against his skin, and, god, he wanted to enter her like a battering ram and fuck her in half. But, not yet, he thought with fierce determination. He wasn’t finished taking advantage of the storming tempest possessing his woman. He wouldn’t allow himself to plow her into oblivion until his fingers and mouth accomplished what his ravishing of her neck and tits had—all consuming rapture. What was chipping away hardest at his control was the knowledge that his fangs sinking into her was what had set off her orgasms. The idea of her peaking over and *over* again from his bite made his balls contract painfully. With a tortured groan, he slid himself further down her body, licking and sucking a wet path down her belly.
Willow moaned and writhed helplessly as she fisted her hands into the bedcovers. She was incoherent and not aware of anything but what he was doing to her. As it should be, he thought with possessive satisfaction.
With a gentleness he hadn’t thought possible in his current state, he caressed her satiny inner thighs with his fingertips as he spread her legs. Her clitoris was swollen and her cunt glistening from her juices—it was a gorgeous sight. Before he could devour her with his tongue, she grunted impatiently and thrust her hips urgently, begging him to satisfy her.
“Uh, uh, uh,” he chastised, spreading her legs further apart and holding her knees tightly to keep her still.
“Angelus! Pleeeeease,” she hissed in a harsh whisper.
He chuckled hoarsely and ran the flat of his tongue between her engorged nether-lips, savoring the taste and texture, then he licked her greedily, slightly penetrating her every few passes. She was panting so hard he thought she might hyperventilate. Her need to come again was great and he just wasn’t letting her quite get there. She was too overwrought to form words and beg—but he got the message. Finally, he gave her what she wanted so badly, sucking her clit hard, then rapidly palpating the sweet spot just beneath it with his tongue. She screamed and surged, pounding the bed with her fists.
Before her orgasm subsided, he entered her with two fingers, stabbing into her harshly, aiming exclusively at her g-spot. Her legs quivered and she whimpered helplessly. He knew her body so well and loved being the only one in the world capable of doing this to her. He was an expert at driving Willow mad with pleasure. He sustained a steady rhythm until her vaginal tissue clamped vigorously, then applied pressure to her perineum and clitoris simultaneously. Her entire body relaxed except for the muscles spasming riotously around his fingers, and she let out a high pitched monotone cry that went on and on. It was incredible—as if, he thought, her orgasm was so unbelievably intense that every other nerve ending in her body wanted to lend its energy to the ones between her legs to aid in the erotic overload that she was experiencing.
Angelus didn’t move until she was silent again and the depths of her pussy stilled. The only sound in the room was Willow’s labored breathing. *Now* he would fuck her. As she lied there in a stupor, spread-eagled, he swiftly mounted her and savagely tore into her with his eager cock. He roared as his hips pistoned against her, luxuriating in the relief of finally being inside of her. He stopped abruptly, so he wouldn’t come, but stayed buried to the hilt. He swallowed hard; Willow was capable of such exquisite sexual responses. Right now the internal flutters and pussy spasms surrounding his cock were intoxicating. They didn’t indicate imminent orgasm—just her body receiving his with ecstasy. It turned him on immensely. The aching eroticism of Willow’s body telling him how badly she wanted him filled him with possessive pride and primordial satisfaction.
Once he judged himself able to stave off his climax long enough to give her another one, he resumed the punishing tempo he had set earlier. Willow’s hips bucked and reared in response, forcing him deeper and deeper. She was using her feet as leverage, pushing herself off the bed, literally slamming her pelvis into his. She was crying out every time she was fully impaled and he knew part of it had to be from pain. Pain she was actively seeking, he thought with a shudder of besotted delight.
“Oh, god!” she called out hoarsely. “Right there. Right. EXACTLY. There. Fuck me Angelus! Fuck me so hard!”
“I am, baby. I am,” he responded in an unsteady voice. “Christ almighty, woman, fucking you is pure GODDAMNED BLISS!” He loved plowing into her without having to hold back. Screwing Willow without fear of permanently damaging…or even killing her, was amazing. Letting loose with the full extent of his desire for her was the best way in the world to celebrate what they had learned tonight of her immortal status. He couldn’t last, though. Shaking with the Herculean effort it took not to come, he coaxed, “I need you to come, Willow. Come for me, beloved.” Hastily mashing his fingertips against her clit, he ground them against it.
Their passion crested and they rode the waves together, letting the tide carry them to the shore of exhaustion. Angelus was so drained that the inside of his head was thrumming and he almost thought he *could* hear the ocean.
Their firestorm of passion had been out-of-this-world, Angelus thought happily, but he was too tired to move as he lay in a spent heap at Willow’s side.
Neither of them spoke for awhile, then Angelus remembered something and smiled, “*You* said ‘fuck’.”
Willow giggled drowsily. “It just popped out.” She paused for a couple of beats, then said softly, “*You* said ‘beloved’.”
“So I did,” he acknowledged quietly.
It had been quite a night.
~Part: 32~
It was creeping up on mid-afternoon when Angelus woke up. His sleep fogged brain was slow in sharing all of the sensations that had its pleasure center stimulated and purring like a kitten. Of course, he had a major hard-on—and that was never conducive to clear thinking.
As he became more conscious, he realized that his face was buried between Willow’s breasts. They were all warm and soft, and her heartbeat resonated against him, the feel and sound pleasant and soothing. She was breathing slowly and deeply, her arms holding his head snugly against her.
Her legs were doing the same thing to his mid-section, her pussy pressed
firmly against him.
The marvelous scents were heady. It all was. Without moving a muscle, he smiled, remembering how he and Willow had rutted like animals and fucked each other senseless in the wee hours. It had been amazing.
The blood congregated in his dick nagged for satisfaction, but other than that, he was totally relaxed. Purring contentedly, he tried to hold on to the feeling, but his mind kicked into gear and wouldn’t let him.
Last night had left him with a lot to think about and his thoughts got busy whether he liked it or not. As much as he’d like a ‘wake up fuck’, he had to let Willow sleep. She’d had a hell of a day yesterday and was exhausted. Besides, he preferred to get his thoughts in order before she started her day—she would be full of thoughts and questions of her own.
Very carefully, he extracted himself from Willow’s arms and legs and went to take a shower.
He’d jerked off in the shower to take the edge off, but as he stood here now and admired Willow’s inviting position on the bed, he was hard again. He smiled as he stroked his cock soothingly. After he’d left the bed, she had repositioned herself. Now, she was lying on her stomach, head resting on her folded arms, mussed hair spilling all around her. Bunched covers were beneath her, elevating her glorious ass. Her legs were spread and the view was tantalizing.
He walked around the bed for the full effect, memorizing the sight so he could recreate it later on paper.
With regret, he headed to the closet to get dressed.
~~~~~~~~~~~
As Angelus descended the stairs, his thoughts ran amok and he was unable to bring order to the chaos. This must be what Willow felt like when caffeine got the better of her, he thought wryly.
Willow.
Immortal.
In all of his speculation about his and Willow’s similarities to Genevieve and Nicholai, it had never crossed his mind that Willow’s immortality had already begun. Signs had been there, he just hadn’t realized it. Like her speedy healing after he’d injured her—he’d assumed that the small amount of his blood that he’d given her had accomplished that.
He felt a surge of excitement. Life was just beginning. He’d been a vampire for 245 years, and there had been a lot of good times, but…. He took stock and tried to articulate to himself what he was feeling. Things were different now. Before, he had been sowing his wild oats. Living by the seat of his pants. Recklessly going from one adventure to the next. Feeding, fucking, and wreaking havoc wherever and whenever he could.
In retrospect, he saw that Darla had been the instigator in most of that. Hindsight clarified things, as it so often did. It was never easy to fully understand the motivations of others, but for the most part, Darla had been trying very hard to keep things exciting. He snorted. She hadn’t wanted to lose her ‘boy toy’ to boredom. He’d certainly been a keen participant and infatuated with it all; her, the power, the terror they had wrought. It had been a hell of a ride.
Until Romania. When the time came to pay the piper.
Then there had been a century of imprisonment in a broody body. The soul had tortured him every moment with misery and remorse.
He shuddered.
When the soul had finally begun to feel less bleak, things got worse instead of better. The Slayer came along, and against all odds, the soul had actually found something that was worse torture for his demon than what had come before. Ugh. All those warm, mushy feelings for the blonde nightmare were a new brand of hell that had been beyond the pale.
Then, of course, Angel had fucked the little cunt. He chuckled at his pun.
Who would’ve ever thought fucking Buffy’s virginity away was the answer to all of his problems? The twists and turns of fate could be strange and wonderful things.
Now he’d entered a new era. Everything else had just been…groundwork. The world was his oyster. His and Willow’s. His mate, he thought with a broad grin.
Sure, there were still some obstacles to get past and hoops to jump through—but he’d deal. He wasn’t going to let any of that spoil his feeling of exhilaration.
There was so much to think about.
Now, his active brain was jumping to Genevieve. What was her connection to Rupert Giles? Whatever it was, he thought with an anticipatory grin, it was sure to be a tasty little scoop. Was that why Genevieve volunteered to accompany Willow to Sunnydale, he wondered? Oh, he knew Genevieve sincerely wanted to help Willow. But did she also have an agenda of her own?
He entered the library and wandered idly as his thoughts bounced from topic to topic erratically.
Sunnydale.
What would Willow decide with regard to that? He wondered with mixed feelings. He chuckled. Here he was speculating on what decisions she would make, when a short time ago he wouldn’t even have considered letting her make her own decisions. “Times are changing,” he said out loud as he lit a cigarette.
He took a deep drag and watched the smoke lazily waft through the air as he exhaled. Last night Genevieve had said that his relationship with Willow was more “egalitarian” than anything he’d previously experienced with a woman. He snorted, and thought, ‘wasn’t *that* the truth!?’ But, in reality, he didn’t have to consciously make adjustments to his ways—they seemed to be changing all by themselves. With regard to Willow. Exclusively. *He* wasn’t changing…except for that.
He studied the tip of his cigarette. Well, okay, *he* was, he allowed, but not *all* of him.
He grunted with frustration and walked to the French doors. It was all very confusing.
Out on the lawn, Genevieve was romping around with her audacious little ragamuffin, Amerie. He snickered as he watched. Genevieve would throw a tennis ball, Amerie would bound after it enthusiastically on her short little legs, then sniff the ball and sit down, waiting for Genevieve to come get it and throw it again. He had to laugh at that. He supposed it could be worse: the dog might not retrieve the ball, but at least she didn’t run off with it.
Restlessly, Angelus went to his desk and sat down. Savoring his cigarette, he wondered if Willow would wake up more enthusiastic about her immortality than she’d been last night. He let out a soft growl as he fondly remembered things she *had* been enthusiastic about last night. Well, he thought philosophically, if his darling was only going to be excited about one thing in life, fucking him was the one he’d choose.
Ultimately, Willow was Willow: it was her nature to see the bright side of things. He knew that it might take her awhile to reconcile to the changes in her life, but the end result would be a positive attitude, because it was her way.
As Angelus put his cigarette out in an ornate crystal ashtray, Amerie sashayed into the room, smelling of grass and sunshine. She made a beeline for him and reared up to put her front paws on his leg, expecting a friendly greeting. He smirked down at her. “Hello, you cheeky little imp. You are awfully sure of yourself.” He gave her a perfunctory pat on the head. “Off you go now.”
She wagged flirtatiously at him, then bounced off to find someone more generous with their affections.
Genevieve laughed as she entered the library dressed in weathered Levis and a tiny pink T-shirt proclaiming ‘Girl Power’, with her lovely hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail. “Good afternoon, Angelus. I just passed Amerie on her way to the kitchen. Had she been in here pestering you?”
Angelus smiled, “She can’t resist my charms.”
“Hmph,” she replied with an eye roll, taking a seat in a chair in front of the desk. “*You* think that about all females.”
He shrugged and motioned to himself in an ‘of course’ gesture.
Genevieve giggled, then looked at him seriously. “It’s wonderful to see you again, Angelus. You haven’t changed, and the familiar is comforting to encounter in life. And Willow was such a delightful surprise. I look forward to a long friendship with her.”
Angelus nodded and smiled softly. “It’s good to see you again too. The world changed drastically in the century I was gone.” He raised an eyebrow. “Sure, I witnessed the changes. But, it’s not the same when you’re just a resident in a body, without control of it. But, yes, I know what you mean; a familiar face from ‘back in the day’ is a welcome sight.” He leaned forward. “And I suppose Willow is especially significant to you. After hundreds of years of existence, you’ve finally met one of your own kind.”
Genevieve’s eyes welled up, but no tears fell. “It means more to me than I can tell you,” she replied softly. “It’s a rare gift to meet someone you hit it off so well with, no matter the situation.” She smiled at him brightly. “Best girlfriends are a treasured commodity for us women, you know. It’s those relationships that sustain us and give us strength and…” she wrinkled her nose and looked at him pityingly. “Never mind. You wouldn’t get it. Men…just don’t. Especially vampires.”
Angelus was affronted by her condescension and gave her a dirty look as he leaned back in his chair. “Well, one thing holds true with women of *any* species: their smug certainty that males ‘just don’t get it’ regarding…a myriad of subjects.”
Genevieve snorted. “Only because it’s true.”
He gave her a sardonic look and asked derisively, “Is there something we can discuss other than male inadequacy?”
Doing a poor job of hiding her amusement, she replied, “Sure. I can
see that it’s a sensitive subject for you.” Ignoring his grunt and glare,
she asked, “Did last night’s excitement keep you awake, tossing and turning,
or were you out like a light and worn out from it all?”
Angelus grinned rakishly. “I slept fine. *After* satisfying the greedy sexual dynamo that Willow turned into the second we got to our bedroom.”
Genevieve threw her head back and laughed, then smiled at him wickedly with a gleam in her eye. “I’m not surprised. Chemistry—or whatever normally attracts people to one another—is increased with the bond.” Her brow wrinkled briefly while she searched for the right words. “It’s like you’ve both been furnished with vast amounts of pheromones that irresistibly attract you to each other. It turns you into each other’s…aphrodisiac.”
Genevieve paused and looked wistful. “It’s *wonderful*,” she said, stretching leisurely. “I remember that feeling so well. It’s a sexual compatibility beyond imagining, if you haven’t been fortunate enough to experience it firsthand. Since you have a great deal of experience, you can fully appreciate how exceptional the attraction and the sex between you and Willow is. With someone young and innocent like she is, and I was when I met Nick, you do understand that something extraordinary is happening, but not the full extent—due to lack of experience.” She smiled knowingly. “And you don’t really care because you’re deliriously happy and so swept away.”
Genevieve’s attention drifted and she was lost in her thoughts temporarily. “Yes. So very swept away,” she whispered.
Angelus sank further in his chair, getting more comfortable, but didn’t say anything. Obviously, Genevieve was lost in fond reminiscing and he didn’t want to intrude on her sentimental trip down memory lane.
With Willow in his life, he had a new and profound respect for the magnitude of her loss of Nicholai. Angelus shuddered. He didn’t even want to contemplate losing Willow. That would be just…
Genevieve came out of her reverie. “Memories are bittersweet,” she said quietly, more to herself than to him. Sitting up straighter, she propped her feet on the chair next to hers. “As I was saying, I’m not surprised about Willow’s behavior last night. Beyond the obvious sexual pull between you two, she’s experiencing a new feeling of empowerment. She’s feeling more sure of herself and her place in the world. She’ll be spreading her wings—testing the waters.” She grinned at Angelus. “It’s going to be an exciting time for Willow. I know that last night she seemed to be having some difficulties, but don’t worry, as time passes, she’ll work all of that out.”
She threw her arms up with exasperation. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to get so long winded. All I’m trying to say is that if you thought Willow was a “sexual dynamo” last night, you’ll *really* enjoy what’s to come.”
Angelus had been listening very closely. He was interested in every aspect of what Willow was and would be going through…and Genevieve had certainly finished with an exciting tidbit. He grinned. “Everything about and relevant to Willow is important to me. Learning that I’m in for pleasant surprises in bed is *always * welcome news. Who doesn’t like hearing that their future holds incomparable fucking?”
Genevieve chuckled. “True. That can even make the most tedious conversation become interesting.”
Angelus was thoughtful, then said, “What you’ve said explains why I can be absolutely absorbed in business matters, then she walks into the room and my brain empties the second I catch sight of her. My eyes and nose send their messages and suddenly my dick’s so hard, it’s like I haven’t gotten laid in a week.”
Genevieve lifted her hand, palm up, gesturing toward him. “Exactly. For both of you. Like teenagers with sex on the brain 24/7.”
“And it will always be that way?”
She grinned impishly. “Pretty much. For several years. Things will level out eventually, but lovemaking will never become routine or boring between you. It will make even randy vampire pairings seem like old married couples in comparison. That spark that makes her more alluring to you than any other woman will always be there.
Angelus pondered that with a self-satisfied smile.
Genevieve cleared her throat, “I hate to change the subject when you’re so pleased with this one, but where are Darla, Dru and Spike? I would’ve expected them to race to your side the moment your soul vanished. Or don’t they know yet?”
Her eyes widened at the odd expression Angelus wore in response to her questions.
He told her what had become of Darla and she was astonished. After taking a moment to absorb the information, she said, “Well…huh. That *is* news.” She wrinkled her nose and raised her eyebrows. “Oh, not that Darla became Nest’s lackey when he rose again. That doesn’t surprise me the least, she always *was* especially devoted to that vile creature. I never cared for either of them, so good riddance, I say. But…now…that you’re…you know, ‘yourself’ again, how do you feel about your…er, Angel’s part in staking your sire?”
He studied her thoughtfully while he considered her question. Finally, in a subdued tone, he responded, “It’s complicated. She *was* my sire, so there’s that.” He blew out a puff of air. “Hell, even trapped inside Angel at the time, I had mixed feelings, not the rage you might expect. At the time, watching her bow and scrape and simper to the Master—she had lost her dignity, I thought.” He arched an eyebrow at Genevieve, “You wouldn’t have recognized her.” He grimaced with disgust at the memory, then looked resigned. “And, you know, when *wasn’t* my relationship with her complicated?”
Genevieve nodded. “She may have sired you, but two such dominant personalities are bound to have conflict once the fledgling stage passes, regardless.”
“Yes. I had had unresolved ‘sire issues’ for a long time. She did not have a loyal nature—or, only when it suited her. And when I was cursed with a soul she repudiated me. Many times since I’ve been back I’ve thought about how different things would’ve been if Willow had been in Darla’s shoes. Willow would’ve moved heaven and earth, never giving up on finding a solution until I was restored.” After a brief scowling silence, he said with disdain, “Darla couldn’t distance herself from me fast enough.”
“Well, if she were here, she certainly wouldn’t be distancing herself now. You would have a lot of conflict to deal with. Darla wouldn’t have stood for your relationship with Willow.”
Angelus made a pained face at the thought. “I can’t disagree with you there.”
“So, what about Spike and Dru?” Genevieve asked.
He smiled fondly. “Fine. They’re in Sunnydale.”
“Really. Interesting. I’d love to see them. What are they up to? Are
they aware of Willow? Oh, and sire killing is serious business. How did
they react to that? And…”
Angelus raised a hand to interrupt her slew of questions and laughed. “Jesus, woman, you’re full of questions. Let me address the ones you’ve already asked before you continue pelting me with them.”
Genevieve chuckled repentantly. “Sorry. I have a lot of catching up to do, I guess. Go ahead.”
“I told Drusilla and Spike that you were coming, and they’re looking forward to seeing you. Especially Dru, she adores you. They’ve been up to quite a lot. It’s astonishing to me that they’ve survived without me watching over them since they both have such a penchant for trouble. Of course, it’s been a near thing a couple of times, but I’ll let them fill you in on their antics. And, yes, they’re aware of the situation with Willow. They were amazingly receptive—the idea of the correlation between you and Nick, and Willow and me appealed to them a great deal. Darla was a tyrant and a bitch, so there certainly was no love lost there.” He cleared his throat and scowled, “And with regard to sire killing—or at least attempts—well, vampires that live in glass houses can hardly throw stones.”
Genevieve’s eyes widened in astonishment at the implication. “They tried to *kill* you?”
Angelus nodded brusquely. “They did. It’s a long story. I’ll let my errant childer tell it.”
She looked thoughtful and appalled as she absorbed his words. Finally, she said, “Well, they always were full of surprises.”
Angelus just grunted in response.
“Considering the hideous things you did to Drusilla in creating her…maybe it’s a bit of ‘what goes around, comes around’.”
He pursed his lips and rolled his eyes, looking bored. “Whatever.”
She ignored his response. Still a little taken aback, it took her a moment to form her next question. “Sooo, Spike is in the same town with the current Slayer...who just happens to be your woman’s best friend?”
Angelus laughed. “Yeah. Ain’t life grand?”
Genevieve looked at him skeptically.
He smirked. “Oh, what? I’m an evil bastard and I’m not supposed to think the whole crazy thing is funny as hell?”
She looked at him crossly and snapped, “Listen dumbass, you have a complicated situation on your hands that could easily become volatile. You’re going to have to learn to balance being an “evil bastard” with your relationship with Willow. She’ll be feeling her way for a while, adapting to her new life. If you don’t maintain a tight rein, things could happen that can’t be undone. Especially now, when this life is so new to her, this lackadaisical attitude on your part could allow events to unfold that would be detrimental to how she perceives things.”
Angelus glared at her belligerently, not liking being lectured, but Genevieve continued undaunted, not the least bit cowed by looks that would scare the hell out of most people.
“Willow will become very accepting of vampire behavior. Something happens with the bond—like she’s been hard-wired to accept that the vampire nature has tendencies that would’ve been completely unacceptable to her before.” Genevieve’s brow furrowed as she concentrated, trying to find the words to articulate the process.
Angelus took the opportunity to control his temper. She had pissed him off by being so high-handed with him. Sternly, he reminded himself that he had invited her here specifically to enlighten him and Willow on the bond. And that was exactly what she was doing. He made a conscious effort to relax his jaw and shoulders, and focused on what he was learning about the psychological evolution Willow was, and was going to be, experiencing.
Genevieve noted his countenance becoming less fierce and smiled at him softly. “It’s like this, Angelus: You and other vampires are perceived by me as…sort of like another species or culture. I accept the differences. As will Willow…IF something—or things—don’t happen to derail her. She *loves* her friends—they’re family to her. That became abundantly clear to me last night. If you or yours are responsible for harm that comes to them, it could do irreparable damage. If Spike or Drusilla perpetrate these hypothetical events, it won’t matter that it wasn’t you directly.
“Maybe not now, but eventually, as she comes to understand the sire/childe dynamic, she’ll *know* that you could’ve exerted the influence to avert things that hurt her deeply. That kind of pain would change her and her outlook beyond anything you can imagine. Bitterness, hate, anger—those things alter humans a great deal. You would rue the day you let things happen that altered the course she’s on now.”
Judging by the intent look she was giving him, she was done, Angelus thought, and was trying to gauge if she got through to him. He had to admit to himself that while Spike and Dru knew that Willow was part of their family—and therefore safe—they were wildly unpredictable. He hadn’t been monitoring them closely, and there was no telling what they were scheming up, left to their own devices. It was highly unlikely that they would see Buffy and her crowd as off limits just because Willow was. And with Spike’s penchant for killing Slayers…
“You make a good point, Gen. Actually, Spike and Dru have had run-ins with this Slayer and,” he chuckled, “it hasn’t gone well for them. This Buffy, while I dislike her intensely, is a formidable Slayer. One would think their experiences would make them cautious, but you and I both know that those two can’t be relied upon to be sensible. I’ve made it a point to spend time with them, but they have a lot of free time on their hands to dream up mischief.”
Angelus ran a hand through his hair and considered what his childer’s mindset might be. He realized he probably shouldn’t waste any time in getting over to the mansion and explaining things to Spike and Dru. “Maybe tonight I’ll visit them. That will give you and Willow time to get better acquainted and discuss questions that she has. Convincing Spike and Dru to stay away from Willow’s friends will probably be fairly easy.” Angelus raised an amused eyebrow at Genevieve. “You see, Drusilla is *very* excited about her new ‘mommy’.”
Genevieve laughed. “Ah, I see! Yes, that will definitely work in your favor. Knowing Dru, the opportunity to make ‘mommy’ *and* ‘daddy’ happy will please her immensely. If Drusilla is determined to comply, convincing Spike isn’t even an issue. Right? I’m assuming he still adores his ‘princess’ and will do whatever she asks.”
“Absolutely. He’s as devoted as ever.”
“I can’t imagine you’ll have any trouble with them. Between your authority as sire, and Drusilla’s desire to please both you and Willow, it should be a piece of cake.”
Angelus frowned.
Genevieve’s forehead creased. “What?”
He looked up at her, but took a moment to answer. “Well…I *have* re-established my authority with them since I’ve been back, but there are…*issues* that only time can resolve.”
She looked at him curiously. “Such as?”
“As you know, those two aren’t like other vampires.”
Genevieve snorted. “That’s an understatement.”
Angelus chuckled wryly in agreement. “They were very hurt by being deserted during the century that I was…gone. ‘Angel’ was a selfish bastard and ignored them. Of course, he pursued Darla like a whiny baby running to mama. She sent him packing, and he left Spike and Dru in the dust. Since I was privy to his thought process, I can tell you there were a couple of factors involved. The guilt kept him away from them—he couldn’t bear the sight of them because they were tangible evidence of his misdeeds. Then, there was his absolute self-absorption. He was so wrapped up in his ‘woe-is-me’ state of mind and didn’t even consider that while he was running to *his* sire in an unpleasant time, his own progeny might have similar needs. If the pity party wasn’t all about *him*, he wasn’t interested in it.”
Genevieve nodded in understanding. “I see. Forgive me if this sounds stupid, but I don’t completely understand how things worked while you were, um, *submerged*. Couldn’t you make suggestions?”
Angelus grunted in disgust, then let out a bark of bitter laughter. “Believe me, I tried. The soul was all about disregarding *anything* that came from me.” He shook his head. “Jesus, he was a contrary fucker!” He growled and sneered at the annoying memories, then remembered his original point. “As a result, it will take time to re-establish trust with my childer.”
Genevieve had pulled her ponytail over her shoulder and was absently playing with it as she mulled over Angelus’ words. “Hmm. Well, it sounds like you’ve already made a lot of headway with Spike and Drusilla. Consistency on your part, and as you said, *time* should take care of the rest.”
He watched her and waited for her to continue. She was deep in thought and clearly had more on her mind. Finally, he grew impatient watching her stare into space, tugging and twisting at her ponytail. “What else, Genevieve?”
She looked back at him in surprise. “Oh, sorry.” She smiled. “I was just thinking about a couple of things. Spike’s had time to come into his own during your absence. And, of course, you two always did have an adversarial love/hate relationship. Now he’s stronger and used to running his own show. That’s good for you in terms of Willow; it gives you room to be with her and explore your new life. It’s very good that you intend to go to them tonight because I can also see where Spike might be more intractable than ever.”
“Agreed.” Angelus raised a determined brow at her. “I’ll reinforce that I’m back to stay and here for them. I’ll also nip in the bud any plans they might have that would be counterproductive to Willow’s adjustment.”
“That’s good. I know there’s a lot going on for Willow right now, but you might consider moving up your timetable for her getting to know them. Establishing a family bond for Spike and Dru with her should help your case.”
Angelus wasn’t entirely sure that Willow was ready for that, but he saw the practicality of Genevieve’s point. “I’ll consider it, and maybe discuss it with her.”
“You know, Angelus, it’s pretty ironic.”
“What are you talking about? You lost me.”
She smiled. “Sorry about that. I mean Angel. As you know, I spent a lot of time with him.”
Angelus looked uncomfortable, but nodded, curious to hear what she had to say.
“He had a difficult lot in life and I felt sorry for him at the time. But what you said earlier makes me see some things in a different light. He avoided Spike and Drusilla because he/you were responsible for taking their lives—and worse in Dru’s case—and that through them, he was still perpetrating evil. *But*, as sire, if he had kept them close, he could’ve prevented much of what he felt guilty about and responsible for. They *still* would’ve been vampires, with a vampire’s hungers and desires, but…”
Angelus threw his arms up and nodded vigorously. “Yes! Exactly. His influence could’ve prevented a lot of what those two got up to in the past century. Fucking hypocrite,” he seethed. “I’m glad someone else finally sees it. And that’s not the half of it. Many times, he turned a blind eye to evil just so it wouldn’t inconvenience him and distract from his ridiculous preoccupation with his own misery. There was a time in the early ‘50’s that he left a hotel full of humans to the mercy of a demon that…. Well, never mind.” He smiled at her. “I’m just glad that someone else sees that he wasn’t just some…do-gooder to be praised ad nauseum.”
Genevieve laughed as he finished with his rant. “Do you feel better now?”
He smirked. “Yes, actually.”
She grinned at him. “I’m glad I could help.”
His expression became mischievous. “You could also help me by clearing up something that has me curious as hell and my imagination running rampant.”
She looked confused and said tentatively, “What?”
He leaned toward her. “What on earth is your connection to Rupert Giles?”
“Oh. That. Uh. Um.”
~Part: 33~
Genevieve had been caught off guard by Angelus’ question about Rupert Giles. She obviously wasn’t anxious to discuss how she knew him. It was interesting to see her look so uncomfortable and guilty.
Angelus was delighted by her response. He was more certain than ever that there was a story there well worth hearing. He was about to prod Genevieve further when Willow walked in.
“Good morning, everyone,” she said with a sunny smile.
Genevieve rose to welcome her with a hug. “It’s afternoon, chére, but it’s good to see you are feeling cheerful, no matter the time of day.”
Willow hugged her back warmly. “Thank you. I do feel good—it’s, well…we’ll discuss it.”
Angelus was pleased and relieved to see that she was all right today and didn’t appear upset in any way. When she came to greet him with a kiss, they shared an intimate glance that spoke volumes.
As Willow went to sit in the chair in front of his desk, next to Genevieve’s, he breathed a mental sigh of relief. He had had no idea what to expect of her after all the life-altering things she had learned last night. It was excellent to see her this way. He was thrilled with the new things he’d learned, so it felt great that he wouldn’t have to bury his feelings out of respect for a subdued or upset Willow. He was disappointed, though, that he would have to wait to hear about how Genevieve knew Rupert Giles. Oh, well.
Genevieve and Angelus looked expectantly at Willow once she’d settled herself. She looked at each of them in turn. “Right. You guys want details on what’s going on in my head.” She sighed and gathered her thoughts.
“I’m not sure why I’m not all freaked out. I did some thinking while I was taking a bath just now and reviewed my life thus far, trying to…sort things out, I guess. It’s kind of hard to put it all into words, but I’ll do my best.”
She took a deep breath and began to explain. “I’ve been a cheerful, upbeat person my whole life, but until recently, it had been kind of a forced optimism. Evidently, sometime before I was old enough to remember, I decided to try to look at everything in a positive light, no matter what. I’m a little stubborn…”
She ignored Angelus’ snort, wrinkling her nose at him, and continued. “Maybe that’s why I’ve always looked at life the way I do. Maybe as a toddler, or a little girl, I realized that life wasn’t going to give me attentive, loving parents and the other things that can make early childhood an idyllic, happy time. As a sorta…*determined* little person, I think I decided to find the bright side of things and ignore the rest.
“That’s how my whole life went until recently. When I was in the tub looking around the bathroom just now, and everything was so beautiful and elaborate—I realized that, now, so was my life. *Without* having to make a conscious effort.”
She smiled adoringly at Angelus. “Thanks to him. Just thinking about him made me grin. That gorgeous, sexy man…er, vampire, had taken me from my home, brought me here, and then proceeded to turn my whole life upside down.”
Angelus was listening attentively, but took a moment to savor the well-deserved compliment. Willow and Genevieve chortled and exchanged knowing looks. He raised an eyebrow at them reproachfully, but didn’t speak, so Willow stifled her amusement and continued.
“Being happy became easy as pie. Deliriously happy—with no effort. Pretty great.” She offered Angelus a grateful smile.
“And then, last night was quite a jolt. As you guys already know, I was shocked, overwhelmed, and kind of scared. More than ‘kind of’, I guess.
“This morning…um, this afternoon, I mean, when I woke up, I was surprised to find myself excited; feeling like my life stretched out before me endlessly—full of promise and infinite possibilities.”
She looked at them intently, “Believe me, I haven’t forgotten that there are things on the horizon that are going to be difficult—short-term and long-term. But, the thing is, I’m *happy*. I have the same life I had before I found out all that stuff…but just, just with more *factors* involved than before.”
Willow reached out and took Genevieve’s hand and smiled warmly. “I took your words to heart and won’t borrow trouble. I’ll make decisions on how to deal with things when the times come…and try not to worry unnecessarily. Thank you for the valuable advice.”
Genevieve squeezed her hand. “I’m so pleased and proud of you. You’re very impressive. It’s wonderful to see how quickly you’re adapting and coming to view the world, and your place in it, with the assurance of a woman, instead of the trepidation of a child.”
While the ladies had their ‘special moment’, Angelus silently agreed. Willow *had* grown a great deal and he was delighted beyond words with her progress. It was time to move on, though. He was about to clear his throat and interrupt them when Willow spoke again.
“Okay, folks, now you’re updated.” She grinned, “Now you’re up-to-the-minute on my…uh, what’s going on in my head. So, you can stop worrying.”
Angelus leaned toward her, “It’s very good to hear how well you’re dealing with everything. I admit, I’m surprised. And, remember, you’re not alone. You’ve got me now, and I’ll be by your side always.”
Willow nodded solemnly. “I know,” she said quietly, then turned to Genevieve. “And I know I have your support, too. Thank you, it means a lot to me.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, chére. It’s a pleasure to be in your life and offer friendship and any help you need on your path.”
Angelus was relieved when the emotional ‘warm fuzzy’ moment was interrupted by James knocking softly on the door and coming in with a tray of pastries and coffee. “Thank you, James, as always, your timing is perfect.”
Once the ladies were set with their cups and plates, Angelus smirked at Genevieve. “Gen, I believe before Willow came in, you were about to explain how you know Rupert Giles.”
To his amusement, Genevieve frowned; no doubt she’d thought she’d escaped that conversation.
Willow nodded enthusiastically and hurriedly swallowed. “Yeah! That’s so weird--it’s a small world. So, what’s the deal?”
Genevieve took her time helping herself to another croissant and chuckled.
Angelus doubted Willow picked up on the forced tone of the chuckle.
Trying to appear nonchalant, she glanced from Angelus to Willow. “Yes, it is a small world. That’s so true.” She paused to sip her coffee. “I suppose that odd coincidences are common for you two. Proximity to a Hellmouth will do that.” She turned to face Willow. “I imagine that growing up in Sunnydale must’ve made for an interesting childhood. The tales you must have!”
Willow was about to respond enthusiastically, so Angelus snickered and stopped her. “Don’t fall for it, darling. She’s prevaricating.”
At Willow’s confused look, he explained, “I don’t know why, but for some reason our guest isn’t anxious to share the exact nature of her connection to our local Watcher.”
Willow’s brow knit. “Really? Well, then,” she patted her friend’s hand, “don’t feel like you have to. Sure, I’m curious as heck, but…”
Angelus interrupted. “No, no, no sweetheart! Full disclosure is what we need here. Who knows what might be relevant if you two intend to visit Sunnydale together?”
Willow’s mouth formed an ‘O’ of confusion.
Genevieve sighed with resignation. “Very well. You’re right, Angelus.” Her glance in his direction said that her words didn’t match her feelings on the matter 100%.
“Before I begin, you should know that my appearance and voice were disguised when I knew Rupert. He won’t recognize me.”
“Huh,” Willow said with interest. “Did you use one of those ‘glamours’ you mentioned last night?”
“Yes, Willow, that’s exactly it.”
“Sooo,” Angelus drawled and couldn’t resist adding, “you were up to something.”
“Yes, that too,” Genevieve confessed. “I should also mention that while I looked and sounded different, a keen observer could, possibly, recognize mannerisms and such.”
“Oh. So, um,” Willow asked, “it might be that someone who knew you while you were…that way, might find you familiar, but couldn’t place why? Or, that you reminded them of someone?”
“Right.” Genevieve smiled at Willow, “It’s just a possibility, of course.”
Angelus was impatient for her to get to the good stuff. “Go on.”
Genevieve rolled her eyes at his impatience and continued, “It was a lark, really. And curiosity combined with boredom. Eternity is a very long time, so one has time on one’s hands to dream up shenanigans.”
“That’s the truth,” Angelus agreed with a smirk.
“You should know!” Genevieve replied with a snort. “I don’t know anybody who dreamed up more mischief when bored than you.”
He grinned wolfishly and winked at her, but didn’t reply.
Genevieve turned to Willow, “Another thing you should understand, and will in time, is that an immortal has all the time they want to lay a foundation for a plan. Time constraints are irrelevant.”
“So,” Willow said thoughtfully, “like, if you wanted to visit Italy, you could spend as much time as you wanted to learn the language first. Or, to study its history.”
“Yes,” Genevieve nodded, “things like that. And, by the way, chére, you’ll love Italy. Make visiting it a priority. You’re so clever that learning different languages will probably be simple for you. It’s not always been easy for me, but the more you learn, the simpler it becomes. As a seasoned traveler, I can’t stress enough how important it is. You’ll enjoy wherever you travel so much more if you speak the language.”
Willow smiled, “It’s exciting to think about seeing the world. I’ll definitely take your advice.”
Angelus cleared his throat, hoping to urge the conversation back on track.
“Do you have a frog in your throat, Angelus?” Genevieve asked with mock concern.
Willow laughed, then shrugged unrepentantly when he raised an eyebrow at her.
“So,” Genevieve continued, “I had this interesting idea, but needed an alias. Over the next twenty years, or so, I created a person with a history qualified to make my scheme successful.”
“Cool,” Willow said, “undercover work!”
“To what end?” Angelus asked. He was intrigued about what could catch her interest enough to go through so much trouble.
Genevieve might not have been anxious to share the story to begin with, but she looked pleased at having her audience so rapt.
“I infiltrated the Watcher’s Council,” she said with smug satisfaction.
Willow gasped. “Wow,” she said with awe. “That’s, that’s…wow.”
Angelus was impressed. That was an ambitious undertaking. And risky. But…“Why?”
Genevieve grinned at Angelus. “I know. It was bold. But that’s what made it exciting.” Turning to Willow, she explained, “Excitement is a valuable commodity when you live forever. It’s important to have ambitions and goals. Otherwise, despondency sets in. I had had more than my share of despondency and was keen for something that would fully engage me.”
“Yikes,” Willow marveled. “That’s a biggie, though. Wouldn’t it have been safer to…uh, I don’t know, become a prima ballerina or…concert pianist, or something?”
Genevieve laughed. “Sure. But, ‘safer’ wasn’t interesting to me at the time. I wanted risk and excitement. An adventure.”
“I can understand that,” Angelus allowed. “But, still, *why*? You have access to the world’s vampires and demons, and anything supernatural that the Watcher’s Council might be interested in. Your knowledge surpasses theirs and your contacts are extensive. What could they possibly know that you don’t, or that you couldn’t find out if you were so inclined?”
“That wasn’t the point. They’re so smug and self-righteous, so part of it was just infiltrating their organization because I *could*. Watching the sanctimonious Watchers appealed to me. And, I wanted to see their archives: What did they know and about whom?”
Willow cocked her head, “So, you must’ve gained a pretty trusted position. I’m sure they don’t just leave stuff lying around. Right?”
“Right. Over the course of a few years, I—or, rather, ‘Lily Sanders’, my alias—gained trust. I was just a worker-bee, mind you, but that suited my purposes. Especially since I was assigned to the archives.” She grinned. “It was my *job* to snoop through the archives. Very convenient, no? I had access to everything, and incoming intelligence, as well, so I could add it to the relevant files.”
Angelus tapped his fingers on the desk, considering all of the aspects. “I imagine that was pretty boring most of the time.” Then he brightened, grinning rakishly, “What did they say about me?”
Willow and Genevieve exchanged looks. They weren’t bothered in the least by his austere glower at their amusement.
“A lot, naturally,” Genevieve said with a grin.
“Of course,” he said complacently.
“What they *didn’t* say was what I found most intriguing.”
“Really. What do you mean?” Willow asked curiously.
Angelus was affronted. How could every aspect of him not be worthy of recording?
Genevieve took a sip of her coffee and then elaborated. “They had very detailed vampire ‘family trees’, for example, and everything they could find on evil deeds, but left out important—in my opinion—details. Their interest is in painting demons as evil creatures, period. Of course, the Angelus/Angel curse was studied and recorded because it was an anomaly. But then, Angelus’ creation of Service, Inc. was left out entirely. Intentionally.”
Willow looked perplexed. “I don’t get it.”
Angelus growled, then snapped, “Assholes! I’m a business genius. Everyone knows that. What self-respecting organization could document me and leave that out?”
Genevieve nodded her agreement. “Pompous, but true. Service, Inc. isn’t just a profitable enterprise; it was a revolutionary idea. Humans and demons work together peacefully—and have done for over a hundred years. The quality of life for the demons that it employs improved substantially because they were able to make a living, and, of course, life improved for the demons on the receiving end of the services, as well.”
Willow frowned. “So, you mean things that show Angelus in a positive or productive way are excluded from the Watcher’s Council records.”
Angelus sneered.
“Pretty much, yes. Oh, you could eventually put two and two together if you dug around and knew what you were looking for, but the information isn’t readily available. They don’t want their people to see demons as anything but pure evil. There are many demons that wouldn’t hurt a fly and…”
Willow’s eyes grew large, “Really?”
Genevieve smiled at her. “Yes. You’re a perfect example of Watcher propaganda at work. No matter how gentle a demon species is, you can bet that one of their kind has done something unsavory along the line, and that the Watchers have attributed it to that entire species.”
“That’s not fair!” Willow cried out indignantly.
“No, chére, it’s not. Most of the time those demons remain safe from Slayers, though, because they tend to stay away from hubs of evil or danger. A current Slayer’s whereabouts is common knowledge in demon communities.”
Willow nodded slowly; she was still absorbing what she’d just learned about demons.
Genevieve continued, “My darling Nicholai was an exception. Like Angelus and his curse, Nicholai was an anomaly. Or, rather, *we* were. I was surprised at how thorough their research on us was. It was very strange to read a detailed account of our lives together.”
“Yeah,” Willow said, “I bet. But, it makes sense. What about after…after you lost Nicholai? Did they still watch you?”
“Yes. They wanted to know the affect his death had on me. The record became less thorough once it became apparent that my immortality wasn’t tied to his.” Genevieve sighed, “I didn’t die, I didn’t go insane—I just grieved. Mourning isn’t an exciting subject to study and record.”
Willow patted her arm comfortingly. “Was it hard to see your life story in writing and be reminded of everything?” she asked softly.
“No. Well, sometimes it was bittersweet. And, Nicholai *was* a vampire. So, during the course of my reading on him, I came across accounts of events I hadn’t been aware of. Some of those stung. But, by and large, I was, and am, happy that our epic love affair is on record.”
Willow nodded in sympathetic understanding.
Angelus couldn’t imagine that being stuck with those annoying prigs would be a lot of fun. He was also wondering when Rupert Giles was going to enter into the story. Instead of pushing her on that point again, he asked, “So, once you’d assuaged your curiosity, you left?”
Genevieve leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs, then re-crossed them. “Well…no. I’d been ready to move on, but…”
Willow waited politely and patiently as Genevieve’s pause hung in the air, but Angelus had tired of her drawing the story out. Impatiently, he waved a hand at her, “Yes? ‘But’ what?”
Genevieve scowled at him, then changed gears and shrugged in her impressive French way. “But then, I got distracted by a handsome young man, as sometimes happens.”
‘Aha!’ Angelus thought. He grinned wickedly and was delighted; this was going to be better than he’d anticipated. Sex always spiced things up.
Genevieve’s face softened and she smiled fondly. “So, instead of disappearing from London in the dead of night, I began a torrid love affair with a young Watcher-in-training.”
Willow’s eyes widened with interest, “Ohhh! Romantic.”
Angelus laughed heartily, Giles’ appearance so late in the story became clear. “Perhaps. But, I’m thinking, more likely, darling Willow, that what she’s saying is that she didn’t just *know* a young Rupert Giles, she *seduced* him.” This was rich, he thought gleefully—stuffy, boring Giles had once been Gen’s boy-toy.
Willow’s expression changed several times; she clearly didn’t know what to think about that. “Is that true, Genevieve? *Giles* was the ‘handsome young man’?”
“Yes, Willow, it’s true.” With a proud set to her chin, she said, “‘Seduced’ wouldn’t have been the word I’d have used, but yes, Rupert and I became lovers.”
Willow blinked owlishly several times. “Huh.”
Angelus continued to find the whole thing immensely amusing. Genevieve had always been an interesting woman, full of surprises, but this one was especially fun. Part of him was disgusted that she would stoop so low—but he knew from experience that occasional slumming kept things interesting.
Genevieve looked at him pointedly. “Angelus, do wipe that look off your face. It was a lovely time. I have fond memories.” Turning to Willow, she said with a smile, “My dear, you look positively agog.”
“Well…” Willow’s voice squeaked, so she cleared her throat and started again. “It’s kind of weird to think of Giles that way. And, you and Giles together is hard to imagine.” She blushed then, and added, “Also, I had a little bit of a crush on him, so…”
Angelus’ amusement disappeared abruptly. “Oh, really?” he asked in a forbidding tone.
His ominous expression made Willow sputter. ‘I…I…w-well, yeah. A little. Before. Before now. *Not* now.”
Genevieve threw up her hands and tsked. “Angelus, don’t be ridiculous. Young girls have crushes. It’s the way of things.”
Angelus couldn’t care less about how normal it was or wasn’t for ‘young girls’ to have ‘crushes’. But, he cared a great deal about who Willow found attractive. He *certainly* wasn’t being ridiculous.
While he mulled over Willow’s disturbing disclosure, Genevieve smiled at Willow and asked, “So, Rupert is still handsome?”
At Willow’s expression of panic, Genevieve took pity on her. “Never mind, chére, that’s answer enough.”
Angelus looked at her suspiciously. “So, Gen, why the interest? Are you looking to rekindle things and fuck the Watcher?”
“Of course not!” she snapped indignantly. “It’s just…natural curiosity. Besides, he won’t recognize me. I’m sure of it.”
Willow chewed her bottom lip in thought. “There’ll be no reason for Giles to connect my new friend with ‘Lily Sanders’ if we go to Sunnydale. From what it sounds like, at most, there might be something familiar about her.”
Angelus didn’t think it would matter much. So what if Genevieve reminded Giles of an old fling? “By the way, how did things end?” he asked curiously.
“Oh, you know,” she gestured vaguely, “things just end.”
Willow and Angelus looked at her blankly, silently pressuring her to elaborate.
Genevieve blew out a puff of air. “Obviously, the relationship couldn’t go anywhere. I cared for Rupert a great deal, but I didn’t want to bring down the wrath of the Council by having my true identity discovered. So, despite my feelings, I never revealed my secret to him. Although our time together was wonderful, nothing significant can be built on a lie. In retrospect, I see that I let things go on longer than I should have. For close to a year we laughed, fought, made love—it was tumultuous and marvelous.”
She paused and smiled to herself, and then continued in a subdued voice. “Rupert fell in love with me. Up until then, it had been everything you could want in an affair—giddy and passionate and over-the-top. Once I saw that his feelings were…of the ‘forever’ variety—or, so he thought—I disappeared.”
Willow looked devastated. “Genevieve, that’s so sad! Poor Giles. Did you break his heart?”
Genevieve sighed. “I don’t know, chére. Probably. For a time. The young are overly romantic and dramatic, but very resilient.”
Angelus was amused by how invested Willow had gotten in the story; she looked so sad. “Oh, cheer up, sweetheart. Genevieve is right; he probably moped around for a bit, then snapped out of it. I’m sure what he was left with after his initial funk was over was a wonderful memory of an exciting romance. It was a long time ago, you know.”
Willow nodded, but still looked glum.
Genevieve smiled at Angelus and winked. Standing, she reached her hand out to Willow and said, “Come, chére, we’ll find Amerie and take a walk on the grounds. I’m sorry I depressed you while I was appeasing Angelus’ rabid curiosity about my connection to Rupert Giles. It’ll be nice, you can give me a tour, and I can try to deprogram you a bit and correct any misconceptions you have acquired by way of the Watcher’s Council.”
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