Hazy Dreaming
Rating: 15 for sexual reference
Pairing: Angelus/Oz
Summary: There is no sign of guilt or grief in those eyes, and suddenly he knows. It wan't him in the chair; it was Angelus.
Timeline: S5 of Angel, after Shells and before Timebomb.
A/N: Written forparanoir27 in the angelusficathon.
Angel walked across the bedroom, removing clothing as he went, not bothering to turn on the lights until he came to the bathroom. Stepping under the scorching spray of the shower, he tried to clear his mind of everything. More and more it felt like they were fighting a losing battle at Wolfram and Hart, a feeling only compounded by the sight of a demon walking around in Fred’s body. Shaking off his dark thoughts, he quickly finished his shower.
In his room, Angel pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms and crawled into bed, falling surprisingly quickly into sleep.
******
A bell sounds, the doors slid open and Angel walked out into the deserted main lobby of Wolfram and Hart. His footsteps sounding unnaturally heavy in the silence, he made his way toward his office and enters. As he walks to his desk, he is brought up short by the sight of… himself. . . in profile… sitting in the chair, head thrown back, looking relaxed.
“What are you doing here?”
His double lifts his head and glances at Angel. There is no sign of guilt or grief in those eyes, and suddenly he knows. It wan't him in the chair; it was Angelus.
“I’m always here. I’m where ever you go soul boy.”
Suddenly a young man popped his head up from behind the desk, wiping at his mouth.
“Oz? What are you doing here?”
Looking calm and collected, as if this kind of thing happened everyday, Oz stood up and walked around to the front of the desk, leaning back against it.
“Maintaining control. It’s all about making the beast think you’re giving it what it wants.”
“So you tease it?” Angel asked, not bothering to hide his confusion.
“No, you give it what it wants.”
Just as Angel was about to question Oz further, Illyria walked through the office and passes through the now open elevator doors.
“Let’s go puppy, don’t want to be late.” Angelus said as he stood up from his chair, zipping his pants up.
Following the two, Angel was slightly disturbed to find a classroom on the other side of the doors. Taking his seat, he looked to the back of the room. Oz had Angelus backed against the wall and had his hand down the front of the taller man’s pants.
Turning to his right, where Willow was seated, staring straight ahead with a contented smile on her face, he whispered, "Doesn’t that bother you in the slightest?”
Looking behind them and then back at Angel, she gave a small shrug, then leaned in as if she was sharing a big secret.
“Not really, I’m gay now. Besides, class is about to start.”
As Willow turned back to face the front of the room, Fred walked in wearing a lab coat. Setting down her books and removing her glasses, she hopped up onto the desk.
“Angelus, are you ready?” Fred asked, looking to the back of the room.
Untangling himself from Oz, Angelus walked to the front of the room, straightening his clothes as he went. Angel looked to his right just in time to see Oz slip into the chair beside him.
“Where’d Willow go?”
Pointing to the toy phone sitting on Angel’s desk, Oz replied, “She never got here, you forgot to give her the wake-up call.”
Clearing his throat, Angelus waited until the two turned their eyes to him, and then put on Fred’s glasses.
“Does anyone know why we’re here today?” He asked in a condescending tone.
“We are here to discuss the subtle art of war. I have much I could teach vermin such as you.”
Looking to his left, where the answer had come from, Angel saw Illyria. Her arm was cradled protectively around a tub of whipped cream, her other arm, its hand almost totally covered in the white topping, was paused halfway to her mouth. Before Angel could comment, he heard Oz moaning.
Looking towards the teacher’s desk, he saw the werewolf rise from his kneeling position in front of Angelus and turn to address Illyria.
“Does it involve humus? Because I’ve got this really cool plan involving humus.”
Growing impatient, Angel stood and in a barely controlled tone gave his opinion on the matter.
“That blue bitch has nothing she can teach us. The world is a different place then when she was in power, and even then she was obviously outsmarted.”
Taking a deep breath, he was about to continue, when Fred’s voice came from just behind him.
“Is this what I died for?”
Before he could try and somehow fix whatever he had said wrong, she stood a bit straighter and got a hard look on her face.
“If you’re not ready to learn the lesson, Angel, then you should just wake up.”
******
Bolting straight up in bed, Angel could swear he still heard Fred’s voice and could almost smell her.
Pairing: Angelus/Oz
Summary: There is no sign of guilt or grief in those eyes, and suddenly he knows. It wan't him in the chair; it was Angelus.
Timeline: S5 of Angel, after Shells and before Timebomb.
A/N: Written forparanoir27 in the angelusficathon.
Angel walked across the bedroom, removing clothing as he went, not bothering to turn on the lights until he came to the bathroom. Stepping under the scorching spray of the shower, he tried to clear his mind of everything. More and more it felt like they were fighting a losing battle at Wolfram and Hart, a feeling only compounded by the sight of a demon walking around in Fred’s body. Shaking off his dark thoughts, he quickly finished his shower.
In his room, Angel pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms and crawled into bed, falling surprisingly quickly into sleep.
******
A bell sounds, the doors slid open and Angel walked out into the deserted main lobby of Wolfram and Hart. His footsteps sounding unnaturally heavy in the silence, he made his way toward his office and enters. As he walks to his desk, he is brought up short by the sight of… himself. . . in profile… sitting in the chair, head thrown back, looking relaxed.
“What are you doing here?”
His double lifts his head and glances at Angel. There is no sign of guilt or grief in those eyes, and suddenly he knows. It wan't him in the chair; it was Angelus.
“I’m always here. I’m where ever you go soul boy.”
Suddenly a young man popped his head up from behind the desk, wiping at his mouth.
“Oz? What are you doing here?”
Looking calm and collected, as if this kind of thing happened everyday, Oz stood up and walked around to the front of the desk, leaning back against it.
“Maintaining control. It’s all about making the beast think you’re giving it what it wants.”
“So you tease it?” Angel asked, not bothering to hide his confusion.
“No, you give it what it wants.”
Just as Angel was about to question Oz further, Illyria walked through the office and passes through the now open elevator doors.
“Let’s go puppy, don’t want to be late.” Angelus said as he stood up from his chair, zipping his pants up.
Following the two, Angel was slightly disturbed to find a classroom on the other side of the doors. Taking his seat, he looked to the back of the room. Oz had Angelus backed against the wall and had his hand down the front of the taller man’s pants.
Turning to his right, where Willow was seated, staring straight ahead with a contented smile on her face, he whispered, "Doesn’t that bother you in the slightest?”
Looking behind them and then back at Angel, she gave a small shrug, then leaned in as if she was sharing a big secret.
“Not really, I’m gay now. Besides, class is about to start.”
As Willow turned back to face the front of the room, Fred walked in wearing a lab coat. Setting down her books and removing her glasses, she hopped up onto the desk.
“Angelus, are you ready?” Fred asked, looking to the back of the room.
Untangling himself from Oz, Angelus walked to the front of the room, straightening his clothes as he went. Angel looked to his right just in time to see Oz slip into the chair beside him.
“Where’d Willow go?”
Pointing to the toy phone sitting on Angel’s desk, Oz replied, “She never got here, you forgot to give her the wake-up call.”
Clearing his throat, Angelus waited until the two turned their eyes to him, and then put on Fred’s glasses.
“Does anyone know why we’re here today?” He asked in a condescending tone.
“We are here to discuss the subtle art of war. I have much I could teach vermin such as you.”
Looking to his left, where the answer had come from, Angel saw Illyria. Her arm was cradled protectively around a tub of whipped cream, her other arm, its hand almost totally covered in the white topping, was paused halfway to her mouth. Before Angel could comment, he heard Oz moaning.
Looking towards the teacher’s desk, he saw the werewolf rise from his kneeling position in front of Angelus and turn to address Illyria.
“Does it involve humus? Because I’ve got this really cool plan involving humus.”
Growing impatient, Angel stood and in a barely controlled tone gave his opinion on the matter.
“That blue bitch has nothing she can teach us. The world is a different place then when she was in power, and even then she was obviously outsmarted.”
Taking a deep breath, he was about to continue, when Fred’s voice came from just behind him.
“Is this what I died for?”
Before he could try and somehow fix whatever he had said wrong, she stood a bit straighter and got a hard look on her face.
“If you’re not ready to learn the lesson, Angel, then you should just wake up.”
******
Bolting straight up in bed, Angel could swear he still heard Fred’s voice and could almost smell her.