Broken, part six
here's the next part. it's funny... nothing actually seems to happen in this chapter, and i didn't even realize until the last time i read it over. *headdesk* also, it would probably make more sense if i knew anything at all about quantum physics. that's right, i'm totally faking it. and there's nothing you can do about it, so nyah. :P
Title: Broken, Part Six: Schroedinger's Hostage, or the Duality of Light
Author: girlpire
Rating: I'm calling it NC17, but so far it's pretty tame.
Pairing: Fred/Angelus
Disclaimer: This story is based on the "Angel" series, with which I am not affiliated in any way. Joss Whedon is my master, etc.
Distribution: Please no. kthnxbye. :)
Summary: Fred deals with the consequences of her decision to release Angelus.
Warnings: Well, it's kind of dark. There's some hitting and other sorts of abuse. I mean, it's Angelus, right?
Author's Notes: This story takes place during season four of "Angel" and season seven of "Buffy." Here are all of the previous parts:
Breakable
Broken, Part One: Sick Little Girl
Broken, Part Two: Just Water
Broken, Part Three: External Tools
Broken, Part Four: The Mind and the Body
Broken, Part Five: Reason
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*
Fred sat perfectly still on the bed as Angelus braided her hair. Her head was tender where he'd knocked it against the wall, but she didn't whimper or move as he slowly combed the long wavy locks, twisting them into a dark rope down her back. She'd not spoken at all since Angelus had mentioned the witch. She was vaguely curious about her, but mostly she'd just been thinking about the Kiss, which was capitalized in her head like the title of a grimoire or a Dixie Chicks song. Like something that had happened to somebody else a very long time ago.
She ran her tongue along her bottom lip. It was already healed.
Angelus hadn't said anything else either, except to tell her to strip when they got back to the hotel room. He'd carefully hung up his coat and her clothes and arranged their shoes neatly beneath the desk. He'd also listened to the unconscious boy in the closet for a moment before being apparently satisfied that he was still alive and closing him into the small space again.
She had stood there naked, watching Angelus do all of this and wondering if Angel had always been that meticulous or if it had something to do with being evil. Mostly, though, she was still thinking about the Kiss.
Then he'd stripped down to a pair of dark red silk boxers, and her mind had gone blissfully mushy at the sight of him, but when he'd pulled her onto the bed to start braiding her hair, she began thinking about the Kiss again.
She'd enjoyed it.
And now she was tired, and she ached all over from walking the whole city in one night and being slammed against brick walls and bleeding and crying and being hit on by strange vampires... And she really wanted to go to sleep. She wanted Angel to finish braiding her hair and gather her up in his strong arms and pull the covers up to their necks and sleep with his knees behind hers and his lips pressed against her shoulder, but she couldn't stop thinking about the Kiss and wondering what It had meant and reliving It and analyzing It and wanting It to happen again, regardless of whether or not It had actually meant anything to Angel at all. Angelus, that is.
Partly, of course, she knew that he had kissed her so roughly to show her that he was in charge, that he was calling the shots and all she was allowed to do was take whatever he dished out. That both turned her on and irritated her in equal measure. And partly he had probably been trying to reassure himself that she was still his lost cause and not someone else's, though she wasn't quite sure why he would be that jealous over her, especially given his low opinion of her this far.
He'd made her say that he was the only one she wanted. Was he insecure? Or trying to prove something? Or was it just to remind her of the reason she released him in the first place? She did want him; she hadn't lied. The thought that she couldn't get out of her mind now, though, was that maybe... maybe he actually wanted her a little bit in return.
Getting an evil demon to care for you, even the tiniest amount? Not bad for a day's work.
He was done braiding her hair. Angelus reached around Fred to turn out the light, then pulled her down into the bed, drawing the covers up around them. She felt his thighs behind hers as she settled back against his broad chest, his body cool against her warmth. His arm lay over her waist, the large hand flat against her belly. She thought about the Kiss.
"Goodnight," she said softly.
He didn't say anything.
As she closed her eyes, she felt Angelus shift slightly, his hand sliding up over her breast.
*
She was sitting at the desk in Angel's office. There was a problem here, a big one, full of numbers and letters and shapes like mouths with sharp teeth, and she was trying to work the problem, find the answer hidden somewhere on the paper in front of her. The paper was too small, though. The answer couldn't be there, not when there wasn't enough paper. The answer was too big.
"There's never enough paper," she said. Out loud, so everyone in the auditorium could hear her. They stared up at her with blank faces while she stood at the podium, explaining the problem. "I'm too skinny, and there's nowhere for me to write it down," she explained. She held up the paper so everyone could watch it shrinking. They stared at her with blank faces, as though they were made of wax. "Y'all are wax-people," she told them, "and I don't have enough room to record it." She let the Post-It note flutter out of her hand into the portal behind her. She turned to watch all the paper disappear into the black hole. But she wasn't going in there after it. She stared into it, saw Charles standing on top of a crate of paper.
"Baby, I got everything you need," he said, and he held out his hand, but she didn't move.
"I don't want answers," she said. She knew he couldn't hear her. "I don't want to know. I just want to feel something."
Charles pulled a thick piece of white chalk from his pocket and tossed it at her. She caught it in her right hand, no her left hand, no her right hand, and walked to the back wall of her cave. Her cave was never very far away. Always right where she'd left it. "How convenient," she said. Out loud, but this time there was no one there to hear her. She began to write.
"A cat, a radioactive atom, and a vial of hydrogen cyanide walk into a bar. A Geiger counter is attached to the vial. Is the state of the cat in the Fishtank indeterminate until a vampire snaps its neck?" At this point, she ran out of chalk. But she had some ink. She opened her mouth and pushed the tip of her finger against one sharp fang. The ink welled up, and she started to write again. "The paradox lies in the clever coupling of quantum and classical domains."
*
The bed was shaking. Her first coherent thought as she opened her eyes was that it was a tiny earthquake, but then she remembered what had been going on when she woke up the night before, and she immediately tried to turn towards the vampire beside her. He caught her shoulder to keep her from turning, just as he had the night before, his fingertips sinking into her arm over the same tender marks. The bed continued to move quietly.
She lay on her side, facing away from him. Was this going to be her wake-up call from now on? She listened to the steady sound of flesh on flesh, his hand moving up and down. It wouldn't be so bad if she could see him, but having to imagine what he was doing, where he was looking... it was driving her crazy! She closed her eyes and tried to pretend she wasn't aroused.
"Stop it," she whispered.
He huffed a small laugh. "What, are you jealous?" The motion didn't slow.
She didn't say anything; she was torn between wanting to scream and wanting to touch herself along with him. She moved her free arm closer to her body, then thought about what had happened the last time and stopped.
"I asked you a question, Fred," he said. "You wish this could be your hand pulling my cock, don't you?"
She still didn't respond, although her mind was screaming at her to say yes. If she said yes, maybe he would let her...? She clenched her fists.
"Come on, Fred. You can tell me. We're all friends here."
"Fuck you," she said quietly.
There was a sudden silence as the motion stopped. Then he rolled toward her, a cool presence along her back, and she could feel his friction-warmed erection push against her bare ass. She bit her lip.
"That's exactly what you want, isn't it?" he asked. His voice was soft in her ear. "You want this," he moved his hips slightly, and his cock rubbed across her bottom, "shoved inside you, fucking your hot, tight cunt. Don't you, Fred? You want to know what it's like to be fucked by a demon."
God, yes. She allowed herself to squirm a little bit against him, thrilling to the velvet feel of his hardness on her ass. She thought about the Kiss. She felt herself blush and turned her face into the pillow as far as she could, half angry that his coarse words turned her on. She squeezed her thighs together and hoped he wouldn't notice.
"Just leave me alone," she murmured. "Please."
"But sweetheart, I wasn't doing anything to you," he said, sounding offended. "Oh, wait a second." He moved a hand down behind her and quickly slid two fingers along the length of her damp slit. She gasped in surprise and tried to move away, but he was still holding her down with his other hand. He reached over her shoulder and presented his wet fingers to her highly embarrassed gaze. "How about that? Looks like I was doing something to you."
She gritted her teeth, turning her face to the pillow again, and he chuckled. She hated him a little bit.
"Don't sulk, Twiggy," he said, popping her sharply on the thigh as he got out of the bed. "It's not sexy unless I do it."
She heard his footsteps go into the bathroom and then the sound of the door shutting. A moment later the shower came on. She rolled onto her back, pulling the pillow over her face and holding it there. How was it possible to want someone so much and yet despise him at the same time? She sighed into the pillow and felt it warm up against her mouth. What time was it?
She dragged the pillow to one side and peeped at the window from under it. Still light outside. Looked like late afternoon, almost dusk. She wondered if they would be going anywhere when it got dark. Her muscles were still sort of achey from all the walking they'd done the night before, so she was half hoping to stay in tonight. She didn't really feel like being around Angel right now anyway. She scowled. Angelus.
In fact... what was she still doing here? She sat up suddenly in the bed. He was in the shower, and she was out here, unsupervised, perfectly capable of opening the door and escaping into the world. What was he thinking, leaving her alone like this? Did he think she wouldn't go? That she was so desperate to be with him she wouldn't see an opportunity like this for what it was?
It would serve him right if she escaped! Yes, she wanted him; that hadn't changed and probably wouldn't ever, but this thing between them? Definitely not what she wanted. She wanted passion. She wanted something... extreme. She wanted to feel life happening around her, instead of just knowing that it did. And Angelus... wasn't what she'd expected at all. She wasn't even afraid of him, not really. They'd both known that from the beginning. How can you be afraid something will hurt you - or even kill you - if that's what you'd asked it to do? And since it looked as though he wouldn't be fulfilling her request anytime soon, what was the point in staying?
Even as she thought these things in her head, Fred knew she wouldn't leave. She fell back against her pillow, cursing the vampire inwardly for knowing that before she did. Where would she go? She had nothing left. If everyone in L.A. were dead...
Her chest hurt to think about them, so she tried to push their faces out of her mind. Even if they were still alive, she could never go back after what she'd done. Better to let them believe he'd killed her, that she'd died a horrible and gruesome death at the hands of Angelus of Aurelius, Scourge of Europe.
It wasn't too late for that to still happen.
Fred rolled slowly out of the bed and made her way to the small dressing area, sparing only a brief glance at the door. If he was this comfortable leaving her alone, then she'd have other opportunities to leave if she changed her mind. She tried not to think about starting over somewhere, getting a job, going through the motions. She never wanted to live that way again. That was the whole point of this. She just wanted to feel something.
I just want to feel something... Fred pulled the rubber band out of her hair and paused, repeating the phrase in her mind. I just want to feel something... what did that remind her of? She began undoing her braid. Deja vu. Deja senti, really. The strange feeling that you were experiencing something from a dream. It was a common occurrence among seers, slayers, and temporal lobe epilepsy patients.
Wait, had she dreamed last night? She tried to remember as she finger-combed her hair. I just want to feel something... She stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her reflection stared back, looking a bit tired. Had it had something to do with Charles? And... writing something?
The water in the bathroom shut off. She hadn't realized the shower was so loud until the noise was gone. And then, breaking the sudden silence, Fred just barely heard a soft groan coming from the closet. She froze, hands in her hair, then gradually turned to look at the closet door. There was another quiet moan from within, along with the light thud of something shifting around. She took a tentative step in the direction of the noise. And a cat, she remembered. She reached for the sliding door handle.
The bathroom door opened behind her before she touched the closet, and Fred turned to see Angelus step out wearing only a towel, beads of water rolling down his bare chest. Her breath caught for a moment. She sometimes forgot to think about how pretty he was.
"Our friend awake yet?" the vampire asked, indicating the closet with a nod of his head as he readjusted the towel around his waist. "Didn't die overnight, did he?"
Fred blinked and looked back at the closet. The mirror on the door was fogging up with steam from the bathroom. She could see through the place where Angelus was standing. She thought, the vampire in the towel is either alive or dead, but not both, and definitely not neither. "The state of the cat is indeterminate," she murmured.
"Oh good," Angelus replied wryly. "Crazytalk. You know how I love crazytalk."
She glanced back at him. "It's... I'm not..." She swallowed and started over. "It's a thought experiment," she explained. "It has to do with the wave-particle duality of light - the wave form collapses when a system is observed. It means that nothing is certain until you look at it."
Angelus crossed his arms over his chest. "The wave form collapses," he repeated.
She nodded. "Or the universe spontaneously splits into two or more dimensions, so that every possibility is simultaneously realized. It really depends on which school of Quantum Physics you belong to. If you subscribe to the Copenhagen Interpretation or the--"
"Fred."
"Many Worlds... Interpretation..." She swallowed. It was hard to stand naked in front of a gorgeous, wet man and not babble. Her gaze fell to the side of his neck, and she began to follow the progress of a drop of water sliding down his skin. He was only wearing a towel. Where had he put the towels?
He leaned down close to her face. The water droplet paused in its track, trembling. "You could have just said you didn't know."
I really want to lick your neck, she thought. "Right. I um. Yeah, I didn't check on him. So I don't. Know. If he's awake."
Angelus stepped away from her toward the closet door. She watched, crossing her arms over her breasts. He slid the door open, and they both looked down.
The boy lay curled on the floor. He slowly turned his head toward them, his eyelashes fluttering against the light. He squinted at Angelus, then Fred, blinking rapidly. Fred stepped closer, peeking around the vampire. He looked as though he were having trouble focusing. Fred hoped the blood loss hadn't permanently damaged the kid, but then Angelus may not keep him alive much longer anyway, so maybe it wouldn't matter. He was looking at her face, not seeming to notice that she was naked. His eyes flicked back over to Angelus.
Suddenly, the boy seemed to recognize the vampire, and a desperate attempt to scramble backwards was stopped short by his head coming into forceful contact with the back wall of the closet. He groaned and clutched his head in his hands, squeezing his eyes shut. Fred winced.
"St-stay away from me," he mumbled. "I'll... I have powers you don't even... understand..."
Fred and Angelus glanced at each other. Angelus put his foot forward and nudged the boy's leg.
The boy jerked backward, again hitting his head against the back wall. He slumped forward, moaning.
"Great," Angelus commented. "Now I have two morons to take care of."
"I resent that," Fred muttered, crouching down next to the boy.
"No, you resemble that," Angelus corrected. He reached into the closet and gathered a shirt and pants from their hangers, taking them over to one of the beds to set them down. Fred watched him from behind as he removed the towel and began drying off his body with it. Oh, God, he was beautiful. Her ankles wobbled beneath her, and she sat on the floor, not taking her eyes off him. He toweled off his arms and chest while she looked on, mesmerized by the ripple of his back muscles as he faced away from her, the way his tattoo moved and flexed. When he bent down to dry his legs, she felt her mouth fall open.
When he was done, he quickly scrubbed the towel over his hair, then dropped it on the floor and picked up his pants. He stepped into them, not bothering with boxers, and Fred stared as his perfect ass disappeared beneath the dark material. She finally tore her eyes away, looking back to the boy in the closet. He still had his eyes closed, his blonde head clutched tightly in his hands. She felt sorry for him.
When she looked back up, Angelus was walking into the dressing area, his black shirt on but not buttoned. She tried not to look at his chest. He opened a small drawer beneath the sink and pulled out a tube of something, flipped the top up and squirted it into his hand. He rubbed his hands together and then ran his fingers through his wild, damp hair.
"He needs some protein," Angelus said.
Fred blinked. He...? Oh. Right. "Protein," she repeated. So he did do his hair by feel.
"And iron. I'm going out to get a few things. I'll pick up something for him." He was buttoning his shirt now. He glanced down at her. "Stay here."
She nodded.
"Remember what I'll do if you don't?"
"My... ears. You'll tear them off?"
He smiled. "Good girl." He let his hand rest on her head briefly as he walked by.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She wanted him. Bastard. She considered wave-particle duality, where wave is want and particle is hate. When observed, the wave function collapses, and all that's left is resentment. She thought about the Kiss. Did Austrian physicists ever construct thought experiments on vampires? She pulled her knees up to her chest and leaned her forehead against them. She wasn't making any sense.
Angelus sat on one of the beds, pulling on his shoes. "Hungry?" he asked her.
She nodded, not looking at him.
He stood up and reached for his coat, beginning to tug it on. "I'll grab some food too. Take a shower."
"What about him?" she asked, glancing at the boy.
Angelus sighed. He walked into the bathroom, and Fred heard a loud noise. Then he walked back out carrying the towel bar, which he'd apparently ripped from the wall. He closed the boy into the closet again, wedging the door shut with the bar. He tried to slide the door back open, but it wouldn't move.
"There," he said. "Don't let him out."
She nodded again.
Angelus started to walk away, then paused. He turned back and squatted down in front of Fred, reaching out to put her hair behind her ear. He slid his hand down her cheek and cupped her chin, tilting her face up to look at him. "Don't you think about leaving here, Fred," he warned her softly. "You're mine. You gave yourself to me; do you understand that?"
"Yes," she said.
"You belong to me. I own you. Say it."
"You own me," she said softly. "I belong to you."
He nodded. "You don't have to like it..." he said. He ran his thumb along her bottom lip. "...but you can't do anything about it." He looked at her mouth for a moment more, then let go of her face and stood up.
She watched him walk away, his coat flapping softly around his legs. She saw him open the door, and then he disappeared into the dusk, fading away like every other particle of light.
*
next part
Title: Broken, Part Six: Schroedinger's Hostage, or the Duality of Light
Author: girlpire
Rating: I'm calling it NC17, but so far it's pretty tame.
Pairing: Fred/Angelus
Disclaimer: This story is based on the "Angel" series, with which I am not affiliated in any way. Joss Whedon is my master, etc.
Distribution: Please no. kthnxbye. :)
Summary: Fred deals with the consequences of her decision to release Angelus.
Warnings: Well, it's kind of dark. There's some hitting and other sorts of abuse. I mean, it's Angelus, right?
Author's Notes: This story takes place during season four of "Angel" and season seven of "Buffy." Here are all of the previous parts:
Breakable
Broken, Part One: Sick Little Girl
Broken, Part Two: Just Water
Broken, Part Three: External Tools
Broken, Part Four: The Mind and the Body
Broken, Part Five: Reason
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*
Fred sat perfectly still on the bed as Angelus braided her hair. Her head was tender where he'd knocked it against the wall, but she didn't whimper or move as he slowly combed the long wavy locks, twisting them into a dark rope down her back. She'd not spoken at all since Angelus had mentioned the witch. She was vaguely curious about her, but mostly she'd just been thinking about the Kiss, which was capitalized in her head like the title of a grimoire or a Dixie Chicks song. Like something that had happened to somebody else a very long time ago.
She ran her tongue along her bottom lip. It was already healed.
Angelus hadn't said anything else either, except to tell her to strip when they got back to the hotel room. He'd carefully hung up his coat and her clothes and arranged their shoes neatly beneath the desk. He'd also listened to the unconscious boy in the closet for a moment before being apparently satisfied that he was still alive and closing him into the small space again.
She had stood there naked, watching Angelus do all of this and wondering if Angel had always been that meticulous or if it had something to do with being evil. Mostly, though, she was still thinking about the Kiss.
Then he'd stripped down to a pair of dark red silk boxers, and her mind had gone blissfully mushy at the sight of him, but when he'd pulled her onto the bed to start braiding her hair, she began thinking about the Kiss again.
She'd enjoyed it.
And now she was tired, and she ached all over from walking the whole city in one night and being slammed against brick walls and bleeding and crying and being hit on by strange vampires... And she really wanted to go to sleep. She wanted Angel to finish braiding her hair and gather her up in his strong arms and pull the covers up to their necks and sleep with his knees behind hers and his lips pressed against her shoulder, but she couldn't stop thinking about the Kiss and wondering what It had meant and reliving It and analyzing It and wanting It to happen again, regardless of whether or not It had actually meant anything to Angel at all. Angelus, that is.
Partly, of course, she knew that he had kissed her so roughly to show her that he was in charge, that he was calling the shots and all she was allowed to do was take whatever he dished out. That both turned her on and irritated her in equal measure. And partly he had probably been trying to reassure himself that she was still his lost cause and not someone else's, though she wasn't quite sure why he would be that jealous over her, especially given his low opinion of her this far.
He'd made her say that he was the only one she wanted. Was he insecure? Or trying to prove something? Or was it just to remind her of the reason she released him in the first place? She did want him; she hadn't lied. The thought that she couldn't get out of her mind now, though, was that maybe... maybe he actually wanted her a little bit in return.
Getting an evil demon to care for you, even the tiniest amount? Not bad for a day's work.
He was done braiding her hair. Angelus reached around Fred to turn out the light, then pulled her down into the bed, drawing the covers up around them. She felt his thighs behind hers as she settled back against his broad chest, his body cool against her warmth. His arm lay over her waist, the large hand flat against her belly. She thought about the Kiss.
"Goodnight," she said softly.
He didn't say anything.
As she closed her eyes, she felt Angelus shift slightly, his hand sliding up over her breast.
*
She was sitting at the desk in Angel's office. There was a problem here, a big one, full of numbers and letters and shapes like mouths with sharp teeth, and she was trying to work the problem, find the answer hidden somewhere on the paper in front of her. The paper was too small, though. The answer couldn't be there, not when there wasn't enough paper. The answer was too big.
"There's never enough paper," she said. Out loud, so everyone in the auditorium could hear her. They stared up at her with blank faces while she stood at the podium, explaining the problem. "I'm too skinny, and there's nowhere for me to write it down," she explained. She held up the paper so everyone could watch it shrinking. They stared at her with blank faces, as though they were made of wax. "Y'all are wax-people," she told them, "and I don't have enough room to record it." She let the Post-It note flutter out of her hand into the portal behind her. She turned to watch all the paper disappear into the black hole. But she wasn't going in there after it. She stared into it, saw Charles standing on top of a crate of paper.
"Baby, I got everything you need," he said, and he held out his hand, but she didn't move.
"I don't want answers," she said. She knew he couldn't hear her. "I don't want to know. I just want to feel something."
Charles pulled a thick piece of white chalk from his pocket and tossed it at her. She caught it in her right hand, no her left hand, no her right hand, and walked to the back wall of her cave. Her cave was never very far away. Always right where she'd left it. "How convenient," she said. Out loud, but this time there was no one there to hear her. She began to write.
"A cat, a radioactive atom, and a vial of hydrogen cyanide walk into a bar. A Geiger counter is attached to the vial. Is the state of the cat in the Fishtank indeterminate until a vampire snaps its neck?" At this point, she ran out of chalk. But she had some ink. She opened her mouth and pushed the tip of her finger against one sharp fang. The ink welled up, and she started to write again. "The paradox lies in the clever coupling of quantum and classical domains."
*
The bed was shaking. Her first coherent thought as she opened her eyes was that it was a tiny earthquake, but then she remembered what had been going on when she woke up the night before, and she immediately tried to turn towards the vampire beside her. He caught her shoulder to keep her from turning, just as he had the night before, his fingertips sinking into her arm over the same tender marks. The bed continued to move quietly.
She lay on her side, facing away from him. Was this going to be her wake-up call from now on? She listened to the steady sound of flesh on flesh, his hand moving up and down. It wouldn't be so bad if she could see him, but having to imagine what he was doing, where he was looking... it was driving her crazy! She closed her eyes and tried to pretend she wasn't aroused.
"Stop it," she whispered.
He huffed a small laugh. "What, are you jealous?" The motion didn't slow.
She didn't say anything; she was torn between wanting to scream and wanting to touch herself along with him. She moved her free arm closer to her body, then thought about what had happened the last time and stopped.
"I asked you a question, Fred," he said. "You wish this could be your hand pulling my cock, don't you?"
She still didn't respond, although her mind was screaming at her to say yes. If she said yes, maybe he would let her...? She clenched her fists.
"Come on, Fred. You can tell me. We're all friends here."
"Fuck you," she said quietly.
There was a sudden silence as the motion stopped. Then he rolled toward her, a cool presence along her back, and she could feel his friction-warmed erection push against her bare ass. She bit her lip.
"That's exactly what you want, isn't it?" he asked. His voice was soft in her ear. "You want this," he moved his hips slightly, and his cock rubbed across her bottom, "shoved inside you, fucking your hot, tight cunt. Don't you, Fred? You want to know what it's like to be fucked by a demon."
God, yes. She allowed herself to squirm a little bit against him, thrilling to the velvet feel of his hardness on her ass. She thought about the Kiss. She felt herself blush and turned her face into the pillow as far as she could, half angry that his coarse words turned her on. She squeezed her thighs together and hoped he wouldn't notice.
"Just leave me alone," she murmured. "Please."
"But sweetheart, I wasn't doing anything to you," he said, sounding offended. "Oh, wait a second." He moved a hand down behind her and quickly slid two fingers along the length of her damp slit. She gasped in surprise and tried to move away, but he was still holding her down with his other hand. He reached over her shoulder and presented his wet fingers to her highly embarrassed gaze. "How about that? Looks like I was doing something to you."
She gritted her teeth, turning her face to the pillow again, and he chuckled. She hated him a little bit.
"Don't sulk, Twiggy," he said, popping her sharply on the thigh as he got out of the bed. "It's not sexy unless I do it."
She heard his footsteps go into the bathroom and then the sound of the door shutting. A moment later the shower came on. She rolled onto her back, pulling the pillow over her face and holding it there. How was it possible to want someone so much and yet despise him at the same time? She sighed into the pillow and felt it warm up against her mouth. What time was it?
She dragged the pillow to one side and peeped at the window from under it. Still light outside. Looked like late afternoon, almost dusk. She wondered if they would be going anywhere when it got dark. Her muscles were still sort of achey from all the walking they'd done the night before, so she was half hoping to stay in tonight. She didn't really feel like being around Angel right now anyway. She scowled. Angelus.
In fact... what was she still doing here? She sat up suddenly in the bed. He was in the shower, and she was out here, unsupervised, perfectly capable of opening the door and escaping into the world. What was he thinking, leaving her alone like this? Did he think she wouldn't go? That she was so desperate to be with him she wouldn't see an opportunity like this for what it was?
It would serve him right if she escaped! Yes, she wanted him; that hadn't changed and probably wouldn't ever, but this thing between them? Definitely not what she wanted. She wanted passion. She wanted something... extreme. She wanted to feel life happening around her, instead of just knowing that it did. And Angelus... wasn't what she'd expected at all. She wasn't even afraid of him, not really. They'd both known that from the beginning. How can you be afraid something will hurt you - or even kill you - if that's what you'd asked it to do? And since it looked as though he wouldn't be fulfilling her request anytime soon, what was the point in staying?
Even as she thought these things in her head, Fred knew she wouldn't leave. She fell back against her pillow, cursing the vampire inwardly for knowing that before she did. Where would she go? She had nothing left. If everyone in L.A. were dead...
Her chest hurt to think about them, so she tried to push their faces out of her mind. Even if they were still alive, she could never go back after what she'd done. Better to let them believe he'd killed her, that she'd died a horrible and gruesome death at the hands of Angelus of Aurelius, Scourge of Europe.
It wasn't too late for that to still happen.
Fred rolled slowly out of the bed and made her way to the small dressing area, sparing only a brief glance at the door. If he was this comfortable leaving her alone, then she'd have other opportunities to leave if she changed her mind. She tried not to think about starting over somewhere, getting a job, going through the motions. She never wanted to live that way again. That was the whole point of this. She just wanted to feel something.
I just want to feel something... Fred pulled the rubber band out of her hair and paused, repeating the phrase in her mind. I just want to feel something... what did that remind her of? She began undoing her braid. Deja vu. Deja senti, really. The strange feeling that you were experiencing something from a dream. It was a common occurrence among seers, slayers, and temporal lobe epilepsy patients.
Wait, had she dreamed last night? She tried to remember as she finger-combed her hair. I just want to feel something... She stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her reflection stared back, looking a bit tired. Had it had something to do with Charles? And... writing something?
The water in the bathroom shut off. She hadn't realized the shower was so loud until the noise was gone. And then, breaking the sudden silence, Fred just barely heard a soft groan coming from the closet. She froze, hands in her hair, then gradually turned to look at the closet door. There was another quiet moan from within, along with the light thud of something shifting around. She took a tentative step in the direction of the noise. And a cat, she remembered. She reached for the sliding door handle.
The bathroom door opened behind her before she touched the closet, and Fred turned to see Angelus step out wearing only a towel, beads of water rolling down his bare chest. Her breath caught for a moment. She sometimes forgot to think about how pretty he was.
"Our friend awake yet?" the vampire asked, indicating the closet with a nod of his head as he readjusted the towel around his waist. "Didn't die overnight, did he?"
Fred blinked and looked back at the closet. The mirror on the door was fogging up with steam from the bathroom. She could see through the place where Angelus was standing. She thought, the vampire in the towel is either alive or dead, but not both, and definitely not neither. "The state of the cat is indeterminate," she murmured.
"Oh good," Angelus replied wryly. "Crazytalk. You know how I love crazytalk."
She glanced back at him. "It's... I'm not..." She swallowed and started over. "It's a thought experiment," she explained. "It has to do with the wave-particle duality of light - the wave form collapses when a system is observed. It means that nothing is certain until you look at it."
Angelus crossed his arms over his chest. "The wave form collapses," he repeated.
She nodded. "Or the universe spontaneously splits into two or more dimensions, so that every possibility is simultaneously realized. It really depends on which school of Quantum Physics you belong to. If you subscribe to the Copenhagen Interpretation or the--"
"Fred."
"Many Worlds... Interpretation..." She swallowed. It was hard to stand naked in front of a gorgeous, wet man and not babble. Her gaze fell to the side of his neck, and she began to follow the progress of a drop of water sliding down his skin. He was only wearing a towel. Where had he put the towels?
He leaned down close to her face. The water droplet paused in its track, trembling. "You could have just said you didn't know."
I really want to lick your neck, she thought. "Right. I um. Yeah, I didn't check on him. So I don't. Know. If he's awake."
Angelus stepped away from her toward the closet door. She watched, crossing her arms over her breasts. He slid the door open, and they both looked down.
The boy lay curled on the floor. He slowly turned his head toward them, his eyelashes fluttering against the light. He squinted at Angelus, then Fred, blinking rapidly. Fred stepped closer, peeking around the vampire. He looked as though he were having trouble focusing. Fred hoped the blood loss hadn't permanently damaged the kid, but then Angelus may not keep him alive much longer anyway, so maybe it wouldn't matter. He was looking at her face, not seeming to notice that she was naked. His eyes flicked back over to Angelus.
Suddenly, the boy seemed to recognize the vampire, and a desperate attempt to scramble backwards was stopped short by his head coming into forceful contact with the back wall of the closet. He groaned and clutched his head in his hands, squeezing his eyes shut. Fred winced.
"St-stay away from me," he mumbled. "I'll... I have powers you don't even... understand..."
Fred and Angelus glanced at each other. Angelus put his foot forward and nudged the boy's leg.
The boy jerked backward, again hitting his head against the back wall. He slumped forward, moaning.
"Great," Angelus commented. "Now I have two morons to take care of."
"I resent that," Fred muttered, crouching down next to the boy.
"No, you resemble that," Angelus corrected. He reached into the closet and gathered a shirt and pants from their hangers, taking them over to one of the beds to set them down. Fred watched him from behind as he removed the towel and began drying off his body with it. Oh, God, he was beautiful. Her ankles wobbled beneath her, and she sat on the floor, not taking her eyes off him. He toweled off his arms and chest while she looked on, mesmerized by the ripple of his back muscles as he faced away from her, the way his tattoo moved and flexed. When he bent down to dry his legs, she felt her mouth fall open.
When he was done, he quickly scrubbed the towel over his hair, then dropped it on the floor and picked up his pants. He stepped into them, not bothering with boxers, and Fred stared as his perfect ass disappeared beneath the dark material. She finally tore her eyes away, looking back to the boy in the closet. He still had his eyes closed, his blonde head clutched tightly in his hands. She felt sorry for him.
When she looked back up, Angelus was walking into the dressing area, his black shirt on but not buttoned. She tried not to look at his chest. He opened a small drawer beneath the sink and pulled out a tube of something, flipped the top up and squirted it into his hand. He rubbed his hands together and then ran his fingers through his wild, damp hair.
"He needs some protein," Angelus said.
Fred blinked. He...? Oh. Right. "Protein," she repeated. So he did do his hair by feel.
"And iron. I'm going out to get a few things. I'll pick up something for him." He was buttoning his shirt now. He glanced down at her. "Stay here."
She nodded.
"Remember what I'll do if you don't?"
"My... ears. You'll tear them off?"
He smiled. "Good girl." He let his hand rest on her head briefly as he walked by.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She wanted him. Bastard. She considered wave-particle duality, where wave is want and particle is hate. When observed, the wave function collapses, and all that's left is resentment. She thought about the Kiss. Did Austrian physicists ever construct thought experiments on vampires? She pulled her knees up to her chest and leaned her forehead against them. She wasn't making any sense.
Angelus sat on one of the beds, pulling on his shoes. "Hungry?" he asked her.
She nodded, not looking at him.
He stood up and reached for his coat, beginning to tug it on. "I'll grab some food too. Take a shower."
"What about him?" she asked, glancing at the boy.
Angelus sighed. He walked into the bathroom, and Fred heard a loud noise. Then he walked back out carrying the towel bar, which he'd apparently ripped from the wall. He closed the boy into the closet again, wedging the door shut with the bar. He tried to slide the door back open, but it wouldn't move.
"There," he said. "Don't let him out."
She nodded again.
Angelus started to walk away, then paused. He turned back and squatted down in front of Fred, reaching out to put her hair behind her ear. He slid his hand down her cheek and cupped her chin, tilting her face up to look at him. "Don't you think about leaving here, Fred," he warned her softly. "You're mine. You gave yourself to me; do you understand that?"
"Yes," she said.
"You belong to me. I own you. Say it."
"You own me," she said softly. "I belong to you."
He nodded. "You don't have to like it..." he said. He ran his thumb along her bottom lip. "...but you can't do anything about it." He looked at her mouth for a moment more, then let go of her face and stood up.
She watched him walk away, his coat flapping softly around his legs. She saw him open the door, and then he disappeared into the dusk, fading away like every other particle of light.
*
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