An Ending or a Beginning
Fandom: Ats/BtVS
Pairing: Angel/Willow
Rating: FRT
Disclaimer: The characters herein are not mine. The only thing I really came up with was the story idea.
A/N: Set after the end of both shows. Inspired by my challenge [Pay attention to this moment, it could change the world.] and beta'd by, and dedicated to, the ever talented velvetwhip.
An ending or a beginning. This moment could go either way. Looking across the width of the bed, trying to figure out what did happen and what should happen now, they could only stare at each other in silence. Brief snatches of memory - the slide of his hands down her side, the scratch of his teeth along the back of her neck - popped up in her mind. This wasn’t what she had intended. She was only going to rush in, help the L.A. gang with the battle, and maybe catch up on what had happened in their lives, before rushing right back out again. But when it was just her and Angel, it hadn’t taken long for awkward silences and averted gazes to change to friendly laughter over shared memories. She wasn’t exactly sure when that laughter had changed to kisses, nakedness, and embarrassingly loud moaning. Hearing him give several false starts to what was sure to be a painfully fumbling morning-after conversation, Willow couldn’t help but compare his behavior now to the confident, suave, dirty-talking vampire he had been last night. She was sure that her continued silence wasn’t helping him, but she really didn’t know what to say. Besides, she thought he looked kind of cute when he was embarrassed and wearing nothing but a blanket.
She could, of course, let him off the hook, babble on about how it was just temporary insanity, and then they could both scramble for their clothes and go their separate ways. She would do that, too, if it weren’t for the months of research she had done looking for a way to bind his soul. Somehow, in the confusion of yesterday [and last night], she hadn’t managed to saying anything about it. She also hadn’t mentioned the dreams she’d been having. Dreams of Fred, drowning in a sea of blue, screaming for help and worrying about her boys. Those dreams were what had brought her out of the depths of the jungle and sent her into the battle. Angel had told her, in a detached voice that somehow managed to betray the pain he felt, about how Illyria’s awakening had destroyed Fred’s soul. In all her digging about Angel’s soul, Willow had come across one fact that everyone seemed to agree on; nothing can destroy a soul. They could be corrupted, banished, lost, forgotten, and bound, but never destroyed. She was keeping that bit of information to herself for now. Better to have Angel, Gunn, and Spike think that Fred was no more than to have them find out her soul was in some kind of unreachable cosmic oubliette and then be unable to rescue her. Therefore, the way she saw it, she had two choices: They could do the awkward fumbling, let’s-forget-about-last-night thing or they could deal with it. Given how close they were going to have to work together to bind Angel’s soul and, hopefully, find and restore Fred, she thought dealing with it was the better option.
“Willow…”
As if his voice was some sort of signal, Willow walked around the bed and toward Angel, stopping just shy of touching him. She looked him in the eye, watched him starting to panic, and tried to figure out the best way to explain how she thought they should handle the situation. Finally, giving a bright smile, she wrapped her hand around the back of his head and brought him down for a kiss.
Well, it worked for Oz when she was panicking.
Pairing: Angel/Willow
Rating: FRT
Disclaimer: The characters herein are not mine. The only thing I really came up with was the story idea.
A/N: Set after the end of both shows. Inspired by my challenge [Pay attention to this moment, it could change the world.] and beta'd by, and dedicated to, the ever talented velvetwhip.
An ending or a beginning. This moment could go either way. Looking across the width of the bed, trying to figure out what did happen and what should happen now, they could only stare at each other in silence. Brief snatches of memory - the slide of his hands down her side, the scratch of his teeth along the back of her neck - popped up in her mind. This wasn’t what she had intended. She was only going to rush in, help the L.A. gang with the battle, and maybe catch up on what had happened in their lives, before rushing right back out again. But when it was just her and Angel, it hadn’t taken long for awkward silences and averted gazes to change to friendly laughter over shared memories. She wasn’t exactly sure when that laughter had changed to kisses, nakedness, and embarrassingly loud moaning. Hearing him give several false starts to what was sure to be a painfully fumbling morning-after conversation, Willow couldn’t help but compare his behavior now to the confident, suave, dirty-talking vampire he had been last night. She was sure that her continued silence wasn’t helping him, but she really didn’t know what to say. Besides, she thought he looked kind of cute when he was embarrassed and wearing nothing but a blanket.
She could, of course, let him off the hook, babble on about how it was just temporary insanity, and then they could both scramble for their clothes and go their separate ways. She would do that, too, if it weren’t for the months of research she had done looking for a way to bind his soul. Somehow, in the confusion of yesterday [and last night], she hadn’t managed to saying anything about it. She also hadn’t mentioned the dreams she’d been having. Dreams of Fred, drowning in a sea of blue, screaming for help and worrying about her boys. Those dreams were what had brought her out of the depths of the jungle and sent her into the battle. Angel had told her, in a detached voice that somehow managed to betray the pain he felt, about how Illyria’s awakening had destroyed Fred’s soul. In all her digging about Angel’s soul, Willow had come across one fact that everyone seemed to agree on; nothing can destroy a soul. They could be corrupted, banished, lost, forgotten, and bound, but never destroyed. She was keeping that bit of information to herself for now. Better to have Angel, Gunn, and Spike think that Fred was no more than to have them find out her soul was in some kind of unreachable cosmic oubliette and then be unable to rescue her. Therefore, the way she saw it, she had two choices: They could do the awkward fumbling, let’s-forget-about-last-night thing or they could deal with it. Given how close they were going to have to work together to bind Angel’s soul and, hopefully, find and restore Fred, she thought dealing with it was the better option.
“Willow…”
As if his voice was some sort of signal, Willow walked around the bed and toward Angel, stopping just shy of touching him. She looked him in the eye, watched him starting to panic, and tried to figure out the best way to explain how she thought they should handle the situation. Finally, giving a bright smile, she wrapped her hand around the back of his head and brought him down for a kiss.
Well, it worked for Oz when she was panicking.