Bad Dream [fic]
Title: Bad dream
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 569
Summary: Dark!Willow warns Angel away
Disclaimer: All Joss's.
He feels a hand on his shoulder. He almost jumps a foot. He shouldn't be this surprised. there's nothing, no one that can sneak up on him like this. At least, not in LA...
"Don't look around."
"Willow? What are you doing here?" He tries to turn, but the hand, pale skin and darkly painted nails, is strong. Much stronger than he remembers.
"I'm here to talk." He can feel breath on his neck. It smells Willow-ish, but something's not right.
"Willow? What's wrong? Has something happened-"
"I'm fine. Buffy's fine. Xander's fine. Dawn's fine. Anya's fine. Everyone's fine. For the moment anyway." The hand tightens and Angel is in pain. Pain he should not be able to feel at Willow's hands. "Something's going to happen at Sunnydale. Something...well, it's nothing for you and your colleages down here to be getting involved with."
"But-" She is holding him in place with one hand. She shouldn't be able to do that. No mortal should be able to that, even if they did reak of magick.
An arm snakes over his shoulder, makes him flinch for no reason. It picks up the reciever of his phone. "If Buffy calls-" she drops it over the side of the desk. "-hang up. Don't come anywhere near. Because if you do-" She is cheek to cheek with him now - he can feel her flesh against his, but it is cold, too cold and she stinks of magick and blood and ashes and Angel knows he can't turn and face her, even if he wanted to. His heart flutters, not daring to even beat properly as she whispers in his ear "-I'll kill you. All of you, one by one. And then-" she pauses and he just knows she's smiling "I'll kill Buffy too."
He manages somehow to break free of her grip and tears around, nearest thing to hand raised above his head, a makeshift weapon.
He starts awake with a yell, scrabbling at his desk for something to wield against her. It takes him a few moments to realise he's been dreaming. He's alone in the office - everyone else is investigating their latest mystery in whatever way they can. He tries to resume work, but is too jumpy to finish a sentence, so sure there's someone behind him.
Eventually he calls it a night and withdraws to his room, settling on the bed. He shuts his eyes and then, behind his eyelids, he sees her and it's as if his eyes are still open. Her boots hover a scant inch or two over his chest, her arms spread, palms up, calling upon some higher power and she looks so different; her skin is too pale, her hair's gone dark and her eyes are black as hell, burning with cold fury. She looks down and fixes these eyes, these eyes so devoid of light, sucking it up and swallowing it like blood, on him and smiles and Angel is sure, for that moment at least, that he's never felt this scared in all his life.
"Be a good boy. If you're not, I'll know."
He jumps up, eyes open, but she's not there; gone like a bad dream. Yes. A bad dream. He lies back down slowly (just a bad dream), in disgust tries to ignore how aroused Angelus feels (a bad dream) and hesistates before closing his eyes again.
Bad dream.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 569
Summary: Dark!Willow warns Angel away
Disclaimer: All Joss's.
He feels a hand on his shoulder. He almost jumps a foot. He shouldn't be this surprised. there's nothing, no one that can sneak up on him like this. At least, not in LA...
"Don't look around."
"Willow? What are you doing here?" He tries to turn, but the hand, pale skin and darkly painted nails, is strong. Much stronger than he remembers.
"I'm here to talk." He can feel breath on his neck. It smells Willow-ish, but something's not right.
"Willow? What's wrong? Has something happened-"
"I'm fine. Buffy's fine. Xander's fine. Dawn's fine. Anya's fine. Everyone's fine. For the moment anyway." The hand tightens and Angel is in pain. Pain he should not be able to feel at Willow's hands. "Something's going to happen at Sunnydale. Something...well, it's nothing for you and your colleages down here to be getting involved with."
"But-" She is holding him in place with one hand. She shouldn't be able to do that. No mortal should be able to that, even if they did reak of magick.
An arm snakes over his shoulder, makes him flinch for no reason. It picks up the reciever of his phone. "If Buffy calls-" she drops it over the side of the desk. "-hang up. Don't come anywhere near. Because if you do-" She is cheek to cheek with him now - he can feel her flesh against his, but it is cold, too cold and she stinks of magick and blood and ashes and Angel knows he can't turn and face her, even if he wanted to. His heart flutters, not daring to even beat properly as she whispers in his ear "-I'll kill you. All of you, one by one. And then-" she pauses and he just knows she's smiling "I'll kill Buffy too."
He manages somehow to break free of her grip and tears around, nearest thing to hand raised above his head, a makeshift weapon.
He starts awake with a yell, scrabbling at his desk for something to wield against her. It takes him a few moments to realise he's been dreaming. He's alone in the office - everyone else is investigating their latest mystery in whatever way they can. He tries to resume work, but is too jumpy to finish a sentence, so sure there's someone behind him.
Eventually he calls it a night and withdraws to his room, settling on the bed. He shuts his eyes and then, behind his eyelids, he sees her and it's as if his eyes are still open. Her boots hover a scant inch or two over his chest, her arms spread, palms up, calling upon some higher power and she looks so different; her skin is too pale, her hair's gone dark and her eyes are black as hell, burning with cold fury. She looks down and fixes these eyes, these eyes so devoid of light, sucking it up and swallowing it like blood, on him and smiles and Angel is sure, for that moment at least, that he's never felt this scared in all his life.
"Be a good boy. If you're not, I'll know."
He jumps up, eyes open, but she's not there; gone like a bad dream. Yes. A bad dream. He lies back down slowly (just a bad dream), in disgust tries to ignore how aroused Angelus feels (a bad dream) and hesistates before closing his eyes again.
Bad dream.