Inconsequential [BtVS; Jenny/Angel]
TITLE: Inconsequential
FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
PAIRING: Jenny/Angel
SPOILERS: None; pre-series AU
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: "Names are inconsequential," she tells him, and he finds himself drawn in by the darkness in her eyes.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Pretty much just for dreamscaperuins, since she's the only other J/A fangirl I know of who'll read this. :)
*****
Angel sidles up to the bar, tossing a nod at Willy, the owner and bartender who nods back and asks if he'll have the usual. Another nod is the response and then he turns his eyes to the polished surface of the bar, waiting for his drink and not noticing the brunette sitting down beside him.
A smooth alto asks for a glass of scotch and at this, Angel looks up just as the pretty brunette turns her eyes to his. She gives him a soft, closed-lip smile, murmuring a "Hi," before turning to accept her drink. Angel just barely reacts before Willy sets his drink in front of him and he takes a sip.
The brunette eyes him, looks at his drink and comments, "That looks thick."
"It is," he says simply, savoring the taste of the blood warming his throat. He can still feel her eyes on him and so he keeps his gaze straight ahead.
"Is it any good?"
"You wouldn't like it," he tells her, and then looks up at her again, watching as she grins coyly and turns her head back to her drink, shoulder-length hair bouncing around her face as she does so. She's beautiful, there's no denying it. There's something enigmatic about her smile, and an intriguing power behind the gleam in her eyes. It's enough to encourage him to speak again. "This doesn't seem like your kinda place."
"It's not," she smiles into her drink. "I tend to prefer places with a more... lively crowd, so to speak." Her hair bounces again as she gives him a sidelong glimpse, eyes twitching into a narrow just slightly as a pretty smirk curls her lips.
He's never one to make conversation with strange women when he's not out hunting, but there's something about this one. He even manages a slight smile back. "So then, what are you doing here?"
"Waiting for you, Angel."
The smile fades. "How do you know my name?"
She twirls the glass of scotch on the bar and his eyes stray to her fingernails -- finely manicured and painted blood red, with white tips. He looks up to meet her smile, though her eyes are still on the amber liquid in her glass. "I know quite a few things about you. Your name is just one of many."
He slides his stool a little closer to hers, eyes taking her in -- the fitted leather jacket and dark suede skirt, leading down to tall leather boots. The creamy skin of her thighs beckons his gaze for just a moment but he forces his eyes away, back up to hers. "Who are you?"
"Mm." She takes a sip of her drink, pressing her lips together to savor the taste then, as she shakes her head and then tilts it toward him. "Names are inconsequential," she tells him, and he finds himself drawn in by the darkness in her eyes.
Reason catches up with him, and he replies, "But you know mine. Why can't I know yours?" but she just grins and again he's taken aback by her beauty. Brunettes normally aren't his type -- but her full lips, illuminating smile and mesmerizing eyes are making him rethink that 'type.'
"You'll know mine soon enough," she murmurs back, and it's low and dusky and, if he had a heartbeat, it would have skipped one or two at the sound.
**
Jenny had had to wait a good thirty minutes before he had arrived. Her research had told her that, since arriving in Sunnydale, he frequented Willy's -- a bar that catered to humans, vampires and demons alike. The research had also told her that he always ordered the same drink without fail -- a pint of blood, type-AB negative, warmed to body temperature. Willy had known she wasn't one of his usual crowd -- namely, that she was a human -- from the moment she sat down, but she had invoked Angel's name and any questioning from the bartender had ceased.
Avenging the death of her relatives first and foremost on her mind, she had changed her name -- Janna to Jennifer, Kalderash to Calendar. No traces of her gypsy heritage remain to tip off the vampire that had done her family so much damage. Now, he's here -- Angel, her reason for coming to Sunnydale in the first place.
Unfortunately, as she's realizing now, her research had never indicated how attractive he is. The dark hair, even darker eyes and his brooding good looks took her by surprise when he first swept into the bar and now, as they sit close, she's finding it hard to concentrate on her mission and not get lost in the power and innate sensuality he exudes.
"Can you at least give me a hint?" he cajoles, seemingly flirting with her now, and she can't help the flirtatious smile she gives him in return.
"Nope."
"Well, will you at least tell me if we've met before?"
She bites down on her lower lip softly. "If we had, you would definitely remember me."
His lips twitch, just barely a smirk. "Yeah, I'm getting that impression."
Their attempts at making small talk don't go so well for the next several minutes, as she keeps a tight lid on where she's from and what has brought her here and he, obviously on guard, does the same. It's an interesting dance, laced with flirts and smiles, and it becomes a tango of sorts as the amount of scotch in her glass and blood in his dwindles down to nothing.
When she tips her head back, draining her glass of the last bit of scotch, it comes down heavily on the bar and she shakes her head, a pleasant buzz coursing through her veins. She looks over at Angel and finds him sitting with his elbow on the bar, head propped in his hand as he studies her with a coy smirk. The drink makes her feel heady, and she giggles as a result. "What?"
He shakes his head, sighing, "Nothing," and slides his glass across the bar in a silent request to Willy for another.
Before the glass is snatched away, Jenny dips her finger inside, wetting the tip with the last bit of blood in the glass. Pulling her finger up, she studies the dark red spot staining the bulb as she smiles, stating aloud what she already knew before she'd come here. "So you're a vampire."
**
"I am," he confirms reflexively, not normally one to divulge much about himself, but finding himself helpless to resist as he watches her toy with the blood on her finger. "Are you?"
The dark-haired beauty grins at him again, just shy of devilish, as she brings the blood-stained finger to her lips, sucking it between them ever-so-briefly. Angel feels his mouth go slack as he watches the motion, catching just a glimpse of her tongue sneaking out to clean up the single drop of blood. Then, she licks those full lips and smiles. It's the closest he's come to sexual arousal in a long time.
Simply, she replies, "Nope," and gives him another of those dazzling smiles.
She has to be something other-wordly. Normal women don't just lick off a drop of stray blood like it's not a big deal. "Are you a demon?" he tries next as he accepts a new glass of warm blood from Willy, and her giggle is downright musical as she again shakes her head. He watches her smooth, dark hair shifting around her shoulders again and tries to remember what it was like the last time he lost himself in a woman.
"Only in the sack," she teases, and then tilts her head when he almost chokes on his drink, answering truthfully, "No. I'm not a demon."
"A witch?"
"Not really."
At that, he's intrigued. "Not really? What does that mean?"
She just shrugs and accepts the new glass of scotch Willy sets down in front of her. "It means, I know my way around a few spells, but a witch?" She shakes her head again and wrinkles her nose a bit. "I don't have that kinda power."
"So then, I kinda feel like I should ask again -- who are you?"
Another enigmatic smile is his reward for asking the question. "Who I am is in--"
"Inconsequential?" he finishes for her, lifting an eyebrow.
She smiles, nodding. "Now you're getting it."
Angel huffs, watching as she turns her attention back to her drink. There's still a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of those full lips of hers, and he has a feeling that if he weren't so damned attracted to her right now, he'd be feeling incredibly frustrated by her cryptic nature.
**
"I am human," Jenny tells him with a smile. "Blood still intact and everything."
"Yeah?" He takes another sip of his drink.
"Mm-hmm." She drinks from her scotch, looking down at the liquid as she adds softly but pointedly, "AB-negative."
That's enough to get him to choke on his next sip. He splutters softly, recovering, and wipes his mouth on the sleeve of his dark duster, looking up at her again. "I'm sorry?"
Her grin this time is open-mouthed, the tip of her tongue pressed to the roof of her mouth as she repeats, "My blood type. It's AB-negative."
"Why are you... telling me?"
"You were staring at my throat."
"Oh. Sorry." He ducks his gaze, and again she's taken in by how damnedably attractive he is. He's definitely the hottest vampire she's laid eyes on since she came to Sunnydale. Quite possibly the hottest guy in general thus-far, though she has yet to start her new job at the school -- no telling what sorts of guys she'll find there.
"I don't mind."
"You don't?" He looks up at her again and she shakes her head, sliding off her bar stool.
She shakes her head in the negative, mumbling an, "Mm-mm," before finishing off her second scotch. The rush to her head is even greater this time and she feels daring... reckless. Mission be damned. It's been awhile for her and Angel's gorgeous. She's gotta get her kicks from somewhere. Even if it's in the form of an oblivious mortal enemy.
So Jenny steps toward him, ignores his look of surprise as she invades his personal space and leans into him, her lips resting against his ear. "Want a taste?" she whispers, flicking the tip of her tongue feather-lightly against his ear and reveling in the shudder she feels wracking his body.
"Wh-what?"
"You heard me," she murmurs, and pulls away with a seductive look. Then, she reaches into her pocket and places money on the bar to cover her tab and the tip, before turning on her heel and heading for the back door, knowing that he'll follow.
**
Angel's not sure what actually propels him forward first -- whether it's the smoky look in those bottomless dark eyes, or the teasing way she sways her hips as she heads for the door. Maybe it's the two glasses of blood he's just had, rushing to his head and making him dizzy. Whatever it is, the bolt of sexual attraction hits him so sharply and so quick, he can't help but follow the enigmatic beauty out the back door and into the alley.
The air is chilly for late August and the breeze flutters his duster as he strolls down the alley, following where the curve of her hips lead. She spins around and backs herself against the building, reaching for him and he lets himself fall against her, the magnetic pull too great to resist now. His lips reach for hers without preamble and she stretches up to meet him. When they kiss, the intensity hits him like a blow to the head and from somewhere outside of himself, he hears himself groan.
She gasps in response and opens her mouth to him, inviting him inside. He can still taste the scotch on her tongue and assumes she must be able to taste the blood on his, but again, she doesn't shy away. If anything, she presses against him harder and he pushes her against the building, his fingers digging against her hips as he feels his body beginning to respond.
When their lips part, still resting against one another, hers spread into a smile as she teases, "So there is still blood flowing."
He chuckles against her mouth and nods, quipping, "To the important places, yeah," before he kisses her again.
This is insane. What he's doing is insane. If he were hunting, then this might be okay, but he's not -- his blood-lust has already been sated for the evening, leaving behind only one other kind. And it's that particular kind of lust that he hasn't indulged in for what feels like a few millennia. It had been some time since he'd felt a knee-jerk attraction like this -- he'd been correct in his initial assertion that there was some sort of power to her, whether it was the eyes or the lips or the voice or the intrigue, or maybe the whole damn package.
Because now here he is, lulled by this mysterious siren into a dark alleyway where she, knowing of his vampiric nature, could easily stake him and turn him to dust. Instead she draws him in further, pulling him tight against her while their lips and tongue and teeth clash, her soft mews of pleasure making him dizzy.
In one swift motion, he grabs her by the backs of her thighs and hoists her up, pulling her legs around his waist before he slams her against the building again. Her head lolls back and suddenly all he can see is the creamy expanse of flesh at her throat, beckoning him.
**
It's a flash that she sees in his eyes, that tells her those two drinks at the bar haven't completely taken care of his blood-lust. She's got him hooked right where she wants him -- it'd be too easy to stake him right here and right now, end this mission once and for all; only trouble is, she desperately wants to drag him back to her place and have her way with him. Plus, there's just something about him she can't put her finger on.
Jenny knows who he is and what he's done. She knows exactly how many of her relatives he's killed, either by breaking their necks or turning them to vampires and then leaving them to get staked. She knows the ballpark figure of how many people he's tortured, maimed and murdered in his two centuries of eternal life, and yet... she can't bring herself to hurt him. All she should be feeling toward him is hatred and a determination to make him suffer. Instead, what she feels is a connection.
More than attraction, she feels an odd, almost misplaced kinship with him. There's a pain in him that she can see in his eyes, one that prevents her from doing any lasting damage. It reminds her that he was once human too -- that he never asked for immortality or to become the monstrous Angelus. She meets his eyes again and they stop; for a long moment they just stare at one another, his eyes searching hers and vice-versa.
"I feel like..." He shakes his head, gently helping her to the ground before he takes a step back. "I feel like I know you. Or that I should."
She smiles at the softness in his voice. Maybe this little mission her family's sent her on will be harder than she'd originally thought. "Maybe you will."
His brows quirk at that but he doesn't address it, instead leaning in for another kiss. This one is softer in nature... deep, with just a hint of that hunger and desire he'd displayed moments ago, but... now there's a hint of something else. That attraction that she first felt when he walked into the bar swirls around her head again and she feels herself sway, sighing when he catches her with his arms around her waist.
When the kiss comes to a natural end, he lingers, just barely pulling his lips away and sliding his nose against hers in a way almost tender. Her resolve is weakening, but she knows this isn't something that can last. Or even start. "Can I see you again?" he asks, pulling back far enough to meet her eyes.
Jenny smiles, a little sadly as she knows what has to be done. "You will." Tilting her head, she adds, "In fact, I can guarantee that I'm going to become pretty important to you, Angel."
"Oh yeah?" He smiles, his tone once more flirtatious as he raises his eyebrows. "And why's that?"
She just searches his eyes. "Because I'm the only one that can save you."
"Save me?" He smiles, though his forehead is wrinkling in a confused frown. "From what?"
"From your biggest fear."
She watches his expression falter at that, but he's quick to pick it up again, exhaling a chuckle. "Come on," he teases. "I'm a big bad vamp. What could I possibly be afraid of?"
Jenny holds his gaze. "Losing your soul."
That gets him. His expression falters again, smile fading, and he doesn't bother to correct it. Instead, he takes an almost aggressive step forward. "What did you just say?"
His gaze burns her, but she holds steady, voice low and determined. "You heard me." She turns to leave and gasps when he grabs her forearm, spinning her to face him again.
"Who are you?" he demands, voice raising. There's ire in his eyes now; Jenny can practically feel it radiating off of him, but she doesn't back down.
"I told you, it's--"
"Inconsequential, yeah I got that!" His eyes flash, and she yanks her arm out of his grip. "But given that you know so much about me, I figure I'm entitled to at least a name."
"Angel..." Reaching out, she touches his face, which he flinches at, but doesn't shy away. She keeps her tone soft so as not to stir his ire any further. "Even if I told you right now, it wouldn't matter."
"Why not?"
"Because you won't remember."
He chuckles, but it's without mirth as he shakes his head. "No. No, you said yourself that if we had met before, I would remember you. So how are you so sure I'll forget?"
Instead of answering, Jenny stretches up on her toes for one last taste of his lips, gasping at the aggressiveness in his kiss. When she pulls back, breathless, her mouth opens and closes a few times without speech, lips still whisper-touching his. And, when she's sure that his eyes are still closed, she reaches up to his face again, and swiftly twists his neck, rendering him unconscious.
She watches as he crumples to the ground before she answers him, "Because I'm going to make you forget."
Then, she pulls out the crystal she'd brought with her, as well as the dried wildflower and her lighter. She incants a memory spell she'd learned just for this very occasion, waiting until the crystal turns black before she incants the final phrase of the spell three times: "Tabula rasa, tabula rasa, tabula rasa."
Then, she slips the dried wildflower into one of the inner pockets of his duster and leans down to him, making sure he's still out cold. She pats his cheek, murmuring, "I'm Jenny, by the way," before she straightens up and heads down the alley and out into the night.
Their paths will cross again soon enough.
FIN
FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
PAIRING: Jenny/Angel
SPOILERS: None; pre-series AU
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: "Names are inconsequential," she tells him, and he finds himself drawn in by the darkness in her eyes.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Pretty much just for dreamscaperuins, since she's the only other J/A fangirl I know of who'll read this. :)
*****
Angel sidles up to the bar, tossing a nod at Willy, the owner and bartender who nods back and asks if he'll have the usual. Another nod is the response and then he turns his eyes to the polished surface of the bar, waiting for his drink and not noticing the brunette sitting down beside him.
A smooth alto asks for a glass of scotch and at this, Angel looks up just as the pretty brunette turns her eyes to his. She gives him a soft, closed-lip smile, murmuring a "Hi," before turning to accept her drink. Angel just barely reacts before Willy sets his drink in front of him and he takes a sip.
The brunette eyes him, looks at his drink and comments, "That looks thick."
"It is," he says simply, savoring the taste of the blood warming his throat. He can still feel her eyes on him and so he keeps his gaze straight ahead.
"Is it any good?"
"You wouldn't like it," he tells her, and then looks up at her again, watching as she grins coyly and turns her head back to her drink, shoulder-length hair bouncing around her face as she does so. She's beautiful, there's no denying it. There's something enigmatic about her smile, and an intriguing power behind the gleam in her eyes. It's enough to encourage him to speak again. "This doesn't seem like your kinda place."
"It's not," she smiles into her drink. "I tend to prefer places with a more... lively crowd, so to speak." Her hair bounces again as she gives him a sidelong glimpse, eyes twitching into a narrow just slightly as a pretty smirk curls her lips.
He's never one to make conversation with strange women when he's not out hunting, but there's something about this one. He even manages a slight smile back. "So then, what are you doing here?"
"Waiting for you, Angel."
The smile fades. "How do you know my name?"
She twirls the glass of scotch on the bar and his eyes stray to her fingernails -- finely manicured and painted blood red, with white tips. He looks up to meet her smile, though her eyes are still on the amber liquid in her glass. "I know quite a few things about you. Your name is just one of many."
He slides his stool a little closer to hers, eyes taking her in -- the fitted leather jacket and dark suede skirt, leading down to tall leather boots. The creamy skin of her thighs beckons his gaze for just a moment but he forces his eyes away, back up to hers. "Who are you?"
"Mm." She takes a sip of her drink, pressing her lips together to savor the taste then, as she shakes her head and then tilts it toward him. "Names are inconsequential," she tells him, and he finds himself drawn in by the darkness in her eyes.
Reason catches up with him, and he replies, "But you know mine. Why can't I know yours?" but she just grins and again he's taken aback by her beauty. Brunettes normally aren't his type -- but her full lips, illuminating smile and mesmerizing eyes are making him rethink that 'type.'
"You'll know mine soon enough," she murmurs back, and it's low and dusky and, if he had a heartbeat, it would have skipped one or two at the sound.
**
Jenny had had to wait a good thirty minutes before he had arrived. Her research had told her that, since arriving in Sunnydale, he frequented Willy's -- a bar that catered to humans, vampires and demons alike. The research had also told her that he always ordered the same drink without fail -- a pint of blood, type-AB negative, warmed to body temperature. Willy had known she wasn't one of his usual crowd -- namely, that she was a human -- from the moment she sat down, but she had invoked Angel's name and any questioning from the bartender had ceased.
Avenging the death of her relatives first and foremost on her mind, she had changed her name -- Janna to Jennifer, Kalderash to Calendar. No traces of her gypsy heritage remain to tip off the vampire that had done her family so much damage. Now, he's here -- Angel, her reason for coming to Sunnydale in the first place.
Unfortunately, as she's realizing now, her research had never indicated how attractive he is. The dark hair, even darker eyes and his brooding good looks took her by surprise when he first swept into the bar and now, as they sit close, she's finding it hard to concentrate on her mission and not get lost in the power and innate sensuality he exudes.
"Can you at least give me a hint?" he cajoles, seemingly flirting with her now, and she can't help the flirtatious smile she gives him in return.
"Nope."
"Well, will you at least tell me if we've met before?"
She bites down on her lower lip softly. "If we had, you would definitely remember me."
His lips twitch, just barely a smirk. "Yeah, I'm getting that impression."
Their attempts at making small talk don't go so well for the next several minutes, as she keeps a tight lid on where she's from and what has brought her here and he, obviously on guard, does the same. It's an interesting dance, laced with flirts and smiles, and it becomes a tango of sorts as the amount of scotch in her glass and blood in his dwindles down to nothing.
When she tips her head back, draining her glass of the last bit of scotch, it comes down heavily on the bar and she shakes her head, a pleasant buzz coursing through her veins. She looks over at Angel and finds him sitting with his elbow on the bar, head propped in his hand as he studies her with a coy smirk. The drink makes her feel heady, and she giggles as a result. "What?"
He shakes his head, sighing, "Nothing," and slides his glass across the bar in a silent request to Willy for another.
Before the glass is snatched away, Jenny dips her finger inside, wetting the tip with the last bit of blood in the glass. Pulling her finger up, she studies the dark red spot staining the bulb as she smiles, stating aloud what she already knew before she'd come here. "So you're a vampire."
**
"I am," he confirms reflexively, not normally one to divulge much about himself, but finding himself helpless to resist as he watches her toy with the blood on her finger. "Are you?"
The dark-haired beauty grins at him again, just shy of devilish, as she brings the blood-stained finger to her lips, sucking it between them ever-so-briefly. Angel feels his mouth go slack as he watches the motion, catching just a glimpse of her tongue sneaking out to clean up the single drop of blood. Then, she licks those full lips and smiles. It's the closest he's come to sexual arousal in a long time.
Simply, she replies, "Nope," and gives him another of those dazzling smiles.
She has to be something other-wordly. Normal women don't just lick off a drop of stray blood like it's not a big deal. "Are you a demon?" he tries next as he accepts a new glass of warm blood from Willy, and her giggle is downright musical as she again shakes her head. He watches her smooth, dark hair shifting around her shoulders again and tries to remember what it was like the last time he lost himself in a woman.
"Only in the sack," she teases, and then tilts her head when he almost chokes on his drink, answering truthfully, "No. I'm not a demon."
"A witch?"
"Not really."
At that, he's intrigued. "Not really? What does that mean?"
She just shrugs and accepts the new glass of scotch Willy sets down in front of her. "It means, I know my way around a few spells, but a witch?" She shakes her head again and wrinkles her nose a bit. "I don't have that kinda power."
"So then, I kinda feel like I should ask again -- who are you?"
Another enigmatic smile is his reward for asking the question. "Who I am is in--"
"Inconsequential?" he finishes for her, lifting an eyebrow.
She smiles, nodding. "Now you're getting it."
Angel huffs, watching as she turns her attention back to her drink. There's still a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of those full lips of hers, and he has a feeling that if he weren't so damned attracted to her right now, he'd be feeling incredibly frustrated by her cryptic nature.
**
"I am human," Jenny tells him with a smile. "Blood still intact and everything."
"Yeah?" He takes another sip of his drink.
"Mm-hmm." She drinks from her scotch, looking down at the liquid as she adds softly but pointedly, "AB-negative."
That's enough to get him to choke on his next sip. He splutters softly, recovering, and wipes his mouth on the sleeve of his dark duster, looking up at her again. "I'm sorry?"
Her grin this time is open-mouthed, the tip of her tongue pressed to the roof of her mouth as she repeats, "My blood type. It's AB-negative."
"Why are you... telling me?"
"You were staring at my throat."
"Oh. Sorry." He ducks his gaze, and again she's taken in by how damnedably attractive he is. He's definitely the hottest vampire she's laid eyes on since she came to Sunnydale. Quite possibly the hottest guy in general thus-far, though she has yet to start her new job at the school -- no telling what sorts of guys she'll find there.
"I don't mind."
"You don't?" He looks up at her again and she shakes her head, sliding off her bar stool.
She shakes her head in the negative, mumbling an, "Mm-mm," before finishing off her second scotch. The rush to her head is even greater this time and she feels daring... reckless. Mission be damned. It's been awhile for her and Angel's gorgeous. She's gotta get her kicks from somewhere. Even if it's in the form of an oblivious mortal enemy.
So Jenny steps toward him, ignores his look of surprise as she invades his personal space and leans into him, her lips resting against his ear. "Want a taste?" she whispers, flicking the tip of her tongue feather-lightly against his ear and reveling in the shudder she feels wracking his body.
"Wh-what?"
"You heard me," she murmurs, and pulls away with a seductive look. Then, she reaches into her pocket and places money on the bar to cover her tab and the tip, before turning on her heel and heading for the back door, knowing that he'll follow.
**
Angel's not sure what actually propels him forward first -- whether it's the smoky look in those bottomless dark eyes, or the teasing way she sways her hips as she heads for the door. Maybe it's the two glasses of blood he's just had, rushing to his head and making him dizzy. Whatever it is, the bolt of sexual attraction hits him so sharply and so quick, he can't help but follow the enigmatic beauty out the back door and into the alley.
The air is chilly for late August and the breeze flutters his duster as he strolls down the alley, following where the curve of her hips lead. She spins around and backs herself against the building, reaching for him and he lets himself fall against her, the magnetic pull too great to resist now. His lips reach for hers without preamble and she stretches up to meet him. When they kiss, the intensity hits him like a blow to the head and from somewhere outside of himself, he hears himself groan.
She gasps in response and opens her mouth to him, inviting him inside. He can still taste the scotch on her tongue and assumes she must be able to taste the blood on his, but again, she doesn't shy away. If anything, she presses against him harder and he pushes her against the building, his fingers digging against her hips as he feels his body beginning to respond.
When their lips part, still resting against one another, hers spread into a smile as she teases, "So there is still blood flowing."
He chuckles against her mouth and nods, quipping, "To the important places, yeah," before he kisses her again.
This is insane. What he's doing is insane. If he were hunting, then this might be okay, but he's not -- his blood-lust has already been sated for the evening, leaving behind only one other kind. And it's that particular kind of lust that he hasn't indulged in for what feels like a few millennia. It had been some time since he'd felt a knee-jerk attraction like this -- he'd been correct in his initial assertion that there was some sort of power to her, whether it was the eyes or the lips or the voice or the intrigue, or maybe the whole damn package.
Because now here he is, lulled by this mysterious siren into a dark alleyway where she, knowing of his vampiric nature, could easily stake him and turn him to dust. Instead she draws him in further, pulling him tight against her while their lips and tongue and teeth clash, her soft mews of pleasure making him dizzy.
In one swift motion, he grabs her by the backs of her thighs and hoists her up, pulling her legs around his waist before he slams her against the building again. Her head lolls back and suddenly all he can see is the creamy expanse of flesh at her throat, beckoning him.
**
It's a flash that she sees in his eyes, that tells her those two drinks at the bar haven't completely taken care of his blood-lust. She's got him hooked right where she wants him -- it'd be too easy to stake him right here and right now, end this mission once and for all; only trouble is, she desperately wants to drag him back to her place and have her way with him. Plus, there's just something about him she can't put her finger on.
Jenny knows who he is and what he's done. She knows exactly how many of her relatives he's killed, either by breaking their necks or turning them to vampires and then leaving them to get staked. She knows the ballpark figure of how many people he's tortured, maimed and murdered in his two centuries of eternal life, and yet... she can't bring herself to hurt him. All she should be feeling toward him is hatred and a determination to make him suffer. Instead, what she feels is a connection.
More than attraction, she feels an odd, almost misplaced kinship with him. There's a pain in him that she can see in his eyes, one that prevents her from doing any lasting damage. It reminds her that he was once human too -- that he never asked for immortality or to become the monstrous Angelus. She meets his eyes again and they stop; for a long moment they just stare at one another, his eyes searching hers and vice-versa.
"I feel like..." He shakes his head, gently helping her to the ground before he takes a step back. "I feel like I know you. Or that I should."
She smiles at the softness in his voice. Maybe this little mission her family's sent her on will be harder than she'd originally thought. "Maybe you will."
His brows quirk at that but he doesn't address it, instead leaning in for another kiss. This one is softer in nature... deep, with just a hint of that hunger and desire he'd displayed moments ago, but... now there's a hint of something else. That attraction that she first felt when he walked into the bar swirls around her head again and she feels herself sway, sighing when he catches her with his arms around her waist.
When the kiss comes to a natural end, he lingers, just barely pulling his lips away and sliding his nose against hers in a way almost tender. Her resolve is weakening, but she knows this isn't something that can last. Or even start. "Can I see you again?" he asks, pulling back far enough to meet her eyes.
Jenny smiles, a little sadly as she knows what has to be done. "You will." Tilting her head, she adds, "In fact, I can guarantee that I'm going to become pretty important to you, Angel."
"Oh yeah?" He smiles, his tone once more flirtatious as he raises his eyebrows. "And why's that?"
She just searches his eyes. "Because I'm the only one that can save you."
"Save me?" He smiles, though his forehead is wrinkling in a confused frown. "From what?"
"From your biggest fear."
She watches his expression falter at that, but he's quick to pick it up again, exhaling a chuckle. "Come on," he teases. "I'm a big bad vamp. What could I possibly be afraid of?"
Jenny holds his gaze. "Losing your soul."
That gets him. His expression falters again, smile fading, and he doesn't bother to correct it. Instead, he takes an almost aggressive step forward. "What did you just say?"
His gaze burns her, but she holds steady, voice low and determined. "You heard me." She turns to leave and gasps when he grabs her forearm, spinning her to face him again.
"Who are you?" he demands, voice raising. There's ire in his eyes now; Jenny can practically feel it radiating off of him, but she doesn't back down.
"I told you, it's--"
"Inconsequential, yeah I got that!" His eyes flash, and she yanks her arm out of his grip. "But given that you know so much about me, I figure I'm entitled to at least a name."
"Angel..." Reaching out, she touches his face, which he flinches at, but doesn't shy away. She keeps her tone soft so as not to stir his ire any further. "Even if I told you right now, it wouldn't matter."
"Why not?"
"Because you won't remember."
He chuckles, but it's without mirth as he shakes his head. "No. No, you said yourself that if we had met before, I would remember you. So how are you so sure I'll forget?"
Instead of answering, Jenny stretches up on her toes for one last taste of his lips, gasping at the aggressiveness in his kiss. When she pulls back, breathless, her mouth opens and closes a few times without speech, lips still whisper-touching his. And, when she's sure that his eyes are still closed, she reaches up to his face again, and swiftly twists his neck, rendering him unconscious.
She watches as he crumples to the ground before she answers him, "Because I'm going to make you forget."
Then, she pulls out the crystal she'd brought with her, as well as the dried wildflower and her lighter. She incants a memory spell she'd learned just for this very occasion, waiting until the crystal turns black before she incants the final phrase of the spell three times: "Tabula rasa, tabula rasa, tabula rasa."
Then, she slips the dried wildflower into one of the inner pockets of his duster and leans down to him, making sure he's still out cold. She pats his cheek, murmuring, "I'm Jenny, by the way," before she straightens up and heads down the alley and out into the night.
Their paths will cross again soon enough.
FIN