Disclaimer: I own nothing of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, nor Angel.
Note: Something my mind came up with. If Angel and the Gang did not get in touch with Buffy and company at the end of Angel, to ask for help... What if there was a way? What if ‘someone else’ made an attempt?
The Demon stood in the shadows of the night, watching quietly from beyond the edge of the forest, a slight smirk on his face. His brown, yellow tinted eyes flashed for a moment with desperate hunger as they caught sight of the young, red haired woman dancing less than thirty feet away in the middle of the clearing. She was bare foot, wearing a tank top, and jean shorts, her free flowing hair flying about her shoulders as she danced.
The full moon lit up the clear night sky, the stars above dimmed by its silvery might. The bon-fire the witch danced around flickered against the wind, casting reflections of flames against the red head’s skin, and casting shadows at her feet as she moved. She was ethereal; she was life…and death. The Demon’s eyes narrowed with both anger and hatred as he watched her sway gracefully as she slowly circled the fire, her hands dripping low and her hips rolling as she moved. She twirled, swaying, arching sideways and back again as she danced her cares away. Her presence teased the Demon with the promise of what might have been; if only he had taken that opportunity those many years ago, she could have been one of his…family.
“Hello Red…” He purred as he stepped into position directly behind the young witch.
Willow Rosenberg paused in mid-motion, her muscles tensing at the aura pressing at her back. After a moment, she took in a deep breath, with her arms falling to her sides as she turned around to face the threat she hadn’t felt in some time. She gazed up at the Master Vampire with darkening eyes, her mouth tightening.
“Well, hi there Angelus…it’s been long between visits, hasn’t it? It could have been longer I suppose…so why are you here?”
Angelus cocked a brow at her sarcasm, before he reached out to her. His arms circled her waist and he pulled her close to his body. A mocking grin pulled at the corners of his mouth as he felt her tense within his embrace. Slowly, as if to taunt her, he ran the palm of his right hand down her arm before he told hold of her fingers. He rested his free arm on her lower back, keeping her from pulling away.
“My dear Willow, can I not pay a visit to an old friend…and here I would have thought you’d miss me by now.”
The red head rolled her eyes at that, and not surprised when Angelus began to move. He led her into a two-step waltz, his footwork sure and precise, and she followed, unafraid. He couldn’t hurt her here in her dreamscape. He could only take physical form here, without any of his special abilities, like vampiric strength to aid him. He could touch her as long as he had no intent to harm, or else her mind would cast him out. The only reason she had not done so by now, was that there was always a reason for one of his visits.
“We are hardly friends Angelus, let along close acquaintances.” She replied as he spun her under his arm. “Why are you here?” She asked again as patient as she could.
Angelus pulled her back, a hard glint to his eyes as he caught her gaze and held it. This young witch was the cause of his imprisonment, not once, but twice! At one time in the past, he would have happily drained the red head dry, all the while wearing a grin on his face…but now? His mouth thinned as he silently cursed the ‘soul’ he was burdened with. It was because of Angel he was thinking the way he was now. While imprisoned in the last few years, he had to time to see, to reflect on his actions the first time the ‘curse’ let him out, and to realize…
Willow was strong, both in mind and in power, with self-will unlike anyone he had met in his long, undead existence. The witch might bend to another’s will for a time, but she held to her own morals of right and wrong, and no one could make her do anything she did not want to do. Her ‘walls’ could crack, but she would never break…not now. She had been tested, offered unimaginable power, and had conquered the darkest of evil within her own soul. She was the darkness
, just as she was of the light.
“Soul-boy is in trouble Red.” Angelus stated finally, shaking his head with his gaze unfocused as his inner mind recalled his counter-parts thoughts and actions over the last few days. “Angel is a fool…Too stubborn by half. He is too afraid of my attachments to justify calling for help…”
“Attachments…ha!” Willow scoffed crossly as she glared up at him. Every chance the demon had, Angelus would come visiting her in her dreams. Whenever Angel was tired, or was too distracted, he would lose a bit of his hold on Angelus, and thus the result was these little visits to her dreamscape. It happened more often than Willow would like, but it was part of the Gypsy Curse she bore for having re-souled her friend, and she would continue to do so.
“Are you asking for my help?” She wondered aloud as she thought of his words. “I found it hard to believe the great and powerful Angelus is asking a mere mortal for assistance. The planets must be aligned, or something.”
“Hardy har har…but you won’t be laughing witch, when soul-boy is nothing but ask in the wind.” He turned his head away, a sly look passing over his face. “Poor little William…he finally gets a body, only to lose it once again…”
“William?” Willow mused with a frown growing on her face. Who was…? “Spike?” She realized on a gasp. “Are you saying Spike is alive?...but he can’t be! He’s dead.” She pulled away a bit, hissing angrily as Angelus recapture her hand and twirled her into a spin with a sharp flick of his wrist.
“Of course I’m talking about Spike!” He replied with a bite to his words. “I can’t get rid of him! The bleach-Wonder is still an annoying twit.” He stepped forward, following her dance with an arm braced at her lower back. His hands were firm as he guided her around the bone-fire, bending over her shoulder as they moved.
“Little Andrew never told you, did he Red?” Angelus breathed into her ear. “He knew Spike was back and undead…but then again, he’s Rupert’s pet, isn’t he? A perfect little watcher-in-training, don’t ya’ think?”
She turned her head and glared up at him. He rolled his eyes back at her as they fell into another waltz, her front to his. “Oh, come now…nothing to say Red? Spike’s come back, a true champion…it’s nauseating, really, my own flesh and blood…”
They moved gracefully around the clearing, their bodies moving easily as one from long practice. He glanced down with a perceptive gaze, watching with satisfaction as her own darkened once more. He was getting to her. “You probably don’t even know about Fred, do you?” He wondered aloud, his tone light, but taunting. The witch had liked the Texan. This should do it. “The little girl’s gone, her soul slowly eat away…The great god-king Illyria made a home for himself in Fred’s lifeless body…”
“You…You lie!” Willow cried out in protest, tears gathering in her eyes.
Angelus growled at that accusation, his hands reaching up to grab her by the shoulders. He pulled her flush against him once more, his whole body shaking with rage. He loomed above her in ‘game face’, his ember-tinted eyes burning with the fury he felt. “I might be a demon girl, but I am no liar.” He pushed her away with a sound of disgust, watching dispassionately as she regained her footing. “Don’t believe me then, don’t help. They will all die, and you’re have to live with that, won’t you witch?”
He turned away, hiding the grin of triumph that brightened his face. The witch will come to L.A., no doubt about that. Even if she did not believe him now, Willow would ask questions, and she would learn the truth. Not all was lost…Angelus would live.
‘Soul-boy is in for a world of hurt.’ He thought in glee as he allowed his form to begin to fade from the red head’s dreamscape. The echo of his mocking laughter filled the clearing as he disappeared.
Willow stood there, her hands fisted at her sides, her face flushed with anger as she watched Angelus fade away. She wanted to ask more questions, but the damn vampire was gone. He did this on purpose, she realized. A way to manipulate her…and it was working. She could not ignore what he had said, what his words implied. She had to know the truth.
In the next breath, the witch woke up. She jumped out of bed and ran out of the room, her face full of resolve. She did not care what time of night it was…she had a Watcher to see.