RAVISH ME

Chapter One (word count: 2601)

WILLOW ROSENBURG PROPPED an elbow up onto the table, resting her chin in her hand, her eyes once again filling with tears as she watched her two best friends share yet another slow dance at the Bronze. It had become their thing. These sexy dances and flirty smiles. Laughing at jokes only the two of them got. It was nauseating, and it hurt. Bad.

 She shook her head, dropping her gaze to her drink, lightly fingering the top of her red and white striped straw, and sighed. She really should go. They weren’t going to miss her. Probably wouldn’t even realize she’d gone until tomorrow. They were so lost in their own little world these days they didn’t seem to notice the miserable existence of hers.

 Some friends.

 Willow screwed her eyelids shut tight, forcing the bitter thoughts away, and dropped her hand from her drink, her eyes automatically scanning the crowd for the vampire see hadn’t seen since the night at the warehouse. As usual, she didn’t find him.

 Giving her head a resigned shake, she pushed to her feet, turning on her heel just as a familiar hand shot out to grip her shoulder. “Angel.”

 “Hi.” He stopped, fingers retreating as they met with bare skin, and frowned. “You’re not leaving, are you?” he asked, dropping his arm and thrusting his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “I thought, well, hoped actually, that maybe we could talk.”

 Talk. Yeah, right. “What is there to talk about, Angel? We kissed. You drank. I left. You evade and escape. Pretty much got the picture in the mail there, big guy. No need for clarification. Really. I got the message, loud and clear. In surround sound even.

 “And it’s okay. Really it is. I mean, it’s not like I expected you to actually—”

 He kissed her, hard.

 Right on the lips.

 In the middle of the Bronze.

 Where anyone and everyone could see him. See them.

 Oh God.

 Willow jerked away from him, scrambling to put some distance between their bodies. “You said talk,” she accused, tossing him an angry glare. “That wasn’t talking, Angel. That was kissing.”

 He shrugged, stepping forward, and reached for a strand of her hair, running it between his fingers as his eyes caught and held hers. “In some cultures, a kiss is a form of talking. A kiss hello. A kiss goodbye. A kiss of thanks. There’s even a kiss of death. Rare, though, that may be.”

 “And what was the one you just gave me?” she asked bitterly. “Does it have a name?”

 “You tell me. You’re the one that seemed to need it.”

 She sighed, exasperated.

 Wasn’t that just like a man? Kiss a woman and then blame her for it. “I didn’t ask you to attack me, Angel. That was your decision. All yours.”

 “I didn’t attack you,” he mumbled under his breath. “I kissed you. Big difference in that, believe me.”

 Not much of one.

 She averted her eyes. Staring at the couples still writhing on the dance floor. She didn’t see Buffy or Xander anywhere. Maybe they left? She tried to pull up some resentment at that thought, and found she couldn’t.

 Just one more thing she could blame Angel for. Except, to be honest, it kinda wasn’t his fault.

 Darn him.

 She met his eyes, and blew out a deep breath. “Okay. You can talk now. But no kissing. It makes my brain go all…fuzzy.”

 He smiled at that, and nodded. “Got it. No kissing Willow. Anything else?”

 “Not just yet. But…I reserve the right to add to the rule list later.”

 Angel laughed. A full-blown, honest-to-goodness, gut-clenching guffaw. “Right. The rule list.” He stopped suddenly, his eyes narrowing in thinly veiled suspicion. “Is this a test, Willow? Some kind of couple’s exam I don’t know about?”

 She blinked. Once. Twice. A third time. “You think that we’re a couple?”

 “Don’t you?” He closed the gap between them, his hands moving to her hips, tightening their grip to prevent any semblance of escape from her. “Isn’t that what this irritation is about, Willow? Being upset with me because I didn’t call you? Come see you?

 “Not being able to kiss you is my punishment, right? For not being there when you wanted me to be.”

 She frowned at him. When did he get all…insightful-ish? “Don’t be ridiculous,” she lied, desperately trying not to squirm beneath his knowing gaze. “I’m not upset because you weren’t around. I’m upset because…”

 “I comforted, Buffy. You wanted it to be you.”

 Well, yeah. She did. And it sucked that he knew that. “I’m sorry. I know it isn’t fair. That Buffy needed you. That you two have…a history. It’s just…”

 “You needed me, too.”

 “Yeah.”

 He nodded. “It won’t happen again, Willow. I promise. Next time you need me. I’ll be there. Whether you want me to be or not.”

 Somehow, she believed him. And it petrified her. The trust she already placed in him. They barely even knew each other. Only shared a few kisses and a bite. Yet, in the span of a few days, he’d unknowingly become her whole foundation.

 Which only begged the question what would happen once he got what he wanted, and left her nursing a broken heart in the dark?

 “Come on,” Angel said, tugging on her hand, leading her toward the hardwood floor. “I’ve wanted to dance with you all night.”

 He had? How? He hadn’t even been here…

 She stopped, waited until he looked back at her, and said, “Have you been spying on me, Angel? Is that why you wanted to talk? Because you were watching me tonight?”

 She looked pissed. Really, really pissed. And he couldn’t exactly blame her. He’d be ticked, too. Only he wouldn’t be nearly as nice about showing it.

 His lips pulled into a frown. “I might’ve noticed how sad you looked. Right before I came over to the table. But I had already decided to talk to you. Before I saw that you were upset.”

 She narrowed her eyes, and he had the distinct impression that she didn’t believe him. He scowled, and grudgingly offered, “Okay, you’re right. I was beneath the stairs when you guys got here. I didn’t plan to stay there, but…I wasn’t sure how you would feel about seeing me at first. And then when I realized you might need to see me, a whole hour had gone by.”

 “You were watching me for over an hour and didn’t say anything to me?”

 “Well, maybe closer to two.”

 He forced out a puff of air, begging her with his eyes to forgive him. “Look, I’m sorry, Willow. I just… This thing with us it…kind of caught me off guard, okay? I wasn’t expecting to…feel things for you. I’m not sure how to handle it. If I even want to handle it, to tell you the truth.”

 At her hurt look, he explained, “It’s the demon, Willow. There’s something about you that…brings that part of me closer to the surface. When I’m around you, it’s like…the demon and man are fighting. They both want you. Both care for you. But it’s different. Confusing. The man, the soul, he wants to court you, romance you. But the demon… he wants to possess you. Claim you. Mate you. Totally. Completely. Irrevocably.

 “It scares me how much control it takes to fight right now. To deny myself what both halves of me want from you. You’re so young, Willow. You don’t know the darkness I live inside. Believe me, you don’t want to know. Ever.”

She reached up, touching his cheeks with a shaky palm, and forced a smile across her lips. “I might be young, Angel. But I’m not a little girl. I haven’t been for a very, very long time. If ever. My parents they… were quick to make sure I know how the world works. Know what a man like you might want from a girl like me.

 “I’m not ready to give in to that yet. I don’t know how long it might take before I am, but… I don’t want to run from the feelings that I feel for you. I don’t want you to run from them, either. We can figure things out, Angel. I promise. It just…might take a little time. That’s all.”

 Time was exactly what they didn’t have. It was true he could control the demon for now. Control those baser instincts and desires. But later, as they spent more and more time together, grew closer, got hotter…he wasn’t so sure about then.

 The soul might be a good buffer for conscience. From knowing right from wrong. But it wasn’t so good at curbing the passion. Of ignoring desire. It hadn’t as a man. And it didn’t as a vampire.

 He had always wanted what he wanted. To hell with all the consequences.

 But he couldn’t be that way with Willow. She didn’t need brash and domineering. She needed gentle and…coaxing.

 He shut his eyes, drawing her back into his arms as a new slow song began to play out over the loud speakers, and willed his body to relax against the temptation of hers. She wasn’t ready. She said so herself. And he would be damned if he’d rush her just because he needed to remember what it felt like to be alive. To be…free.

 If they did this, did anything, it would be on her terms. Not his. It wouldn’t be easy, he knew. Fighting what had always been second nature to him. Probably turn into one of the hardest battles he’d ever fought in his life really. But he’d do it. For her. For them. For the simple need to be something different. Somebody different. Somebody she could…respect. Maybe even…love, someday at least.

 “Angel?”

 “Yeah?”

 She lifted her eyed, meeting his eyes, her gaze holding nervousness it hadn’t held before. “Will you… do something for me?”

 “Anything,” he whispered, tightening his arms around her waist. “Whatever you want. It’s yours. Just name it.”

 She nodded, contemplating, and asked, “Will you kiss me now?”

 “There’s nothing I want to do more, Willow. All you had to do is ask.”

 Taking her face between his palms, he lowered his lips to hers, gently brushing them across her mouth, down her throat, pausing at the pulse point in her neck. He could hear the blood rushing through her veins, the rapid beat of her heart as her body instinctively sidled closer to his, and he fought the desire to taste her there. To vamp out and draw her blood back into his mouth.

 Until he got his demon under control again, though, there was no way he was letting himself anywhere near Willow’s throat. No matter how much the soul might want to be there.

 With an inward sigh, he moved back to her lips, taking advantage of the delicious part in them by sliding his tongue inside. One of her hands fisted in his hair, holding him in place; he hadn’t even realized she lifted them there. Her fingers flexed against his scalp, tightened roughly, pulling the short strands taut. A pleasured growl ripped his throat, his fangs fast threatening to emerge.

 He dropped his hands to her arms, quickly thrust her away him. “Let’s get you home, okay?” he said thickly. “It’s getting late. Your parents will be worried.”

 “No, they won’t,” she panted. “They aren’t even there. They’re on a research dig in Africa. I’m on my own for the next two months.”

 His eyes widened. “They just left you? Anything could happen to you, Willow! Don’t they realize how dangerous it is for…”

 “I can take care of myself, Angel. I’m not a little girl. I might not have the strength that Buffy has, or know the kind of Magicks Ms Calendar knows, but…I am not helpless.” She yanked her arms away from him, her eyes growing bitter in the dark. “And I don’t need your pity, either. It’s not the first time they left me alone. I’m sure it won’t be the last. I’ll be fine on my own. I don’t need a babysitter.”

 She went to leave; he stopped her with a firm hand on her arm. “Let me walk you. I don’t like the idea of you out alone after dark. I’m not the only vampire that lives in this town, remember? I’m just the lucky bastard that got cursed with a soul.”

 She wanted to fight him on it. He could see it in her eyes. Thankfully, though, she gave in. “Fine. You can walk me home. But don’t think you’re going to hang around outside until the sun starts to rise like you did the rest of this week. I don’t need a watchdog, Angel.”

 “What do you need then?” he asked, reaching for her hand, feeling at least a small measure of satisfaction when she didn’t immediately jerk it away from him. “Tell me, Willow. I want to know. What can I do if not look after you and try to keep you safe? Is there anything? Because that’s all I want. Just the simple knowledge that you’re okay.”

 She sighed. “Is that why you’ve been watching over me at night? Because you’ve been worried about me? You didn’t even know my parents were gone, Angel. What was there to worry about?”

 “This is the Hellmouth, Willow. There is always something to worry about here. Always. And like you said before,” he continued, pushing open the door of the Bronze and guiding her outside, “You aren’t the Slayer. You don’t have the martial arts skills or the knowledge of the Magicks to protect yourself from danger.

 “But what you do have,” he said, smiling into her eyes, “…is me. And believe me, I’m going to do everything in my power to keep you safe. Even if it means keeping you safe from me, too.”

 She rolled her eyes at that last one. “I don’t need protection from you, Angel. You’re one of the good guys, remember? You have a soul.”

 “That doesn’t automatically mean I know how to use it, Willow. A soul does not equal saint. That is one lesson I learned a long, long time ago.”

 “Before you were turned?”

 “Yes. Years before. I wasn’t…what you’d call a good man back then,” he admitted reluctantly. “I was selfish. Brash. And I did things, things that hurt the people I cared about. My family. My friends. But most especially, girls. Women. And there were a lot of women, Willow. A lot. And each of them thought we were going to one day ride off into the sunset.

 “Because that’s what I let them think. I made them believe we had a future together and, once I got what I wanted, I was gone. On to the next woman, the next conquest. I hurt a lot of people. A lot of good people. Honest people.

 “I don’t want that to happen to you, Willow. In fact, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to avoid it. Even if it means making you not like me so much from time to time.” He smiled, letting her know he partially teased, and squeezed hand. “Come on, let’s get you home. We can talk more on the way.”

 She nodded, and together, they made the short walk to her house. Only once she was safely inside did he turn and greet the man that came up behind him.

 “Hello, Spike.”

 “Angelus. Long time no see, eh, mate?”