This is the first chapter of a crossover I can’t get out of my head. A nod to Disney for giving me inspiration for the title. Welcome to the first chapter of my Dorian Grey/Willow pairing, Poor Unfortunate Souls Flamers be gentle. There will be more of Dorian’s devilishment and Willow babble as we go on.
Chapter One: Mirrior
He was traveling again. Exploring America after ten years of absense. Lazily wandering along the West Coast, examining the scenes of every day people with a detached interest. He envied those around them, those who still at least had a portion of innocence left. Those who would never know true luxories, perhaps even not traveling outside their state. There was a jaded innocence to this generation. They knew about attrocities, knew about things like war, rape, children killing children. He had seen them react, or more, not react to violance and vice. Their innocence laid in that lach of comprehension. Lack of experience and lack of will to act as others have done. He wondered what Lord Henry would think of this generation.. He did have a goal, however. The rumors of the most dangerous of the Boca Del Infernos had reached his ears. The death tolls of the California Hellmouth dwarfed that of any other town or city he had ever heard of. Sunnydale was a plac of contradictions. Since he had arrived, he could literally feel the Darkness.
It was a living thing, clawing, prying, tempting him in ways that even HE of all people had never thought of. It knew all about him, knew what mortals did not, saw beyond the seemingly innocent shell into which he long ago placed himself. He had indulged in all the Seven Deadly Sins. But in the end the liberation promised upon acting on the most base desires of the human heart had turned him into a slave. A slave to all his lusts, his vices, and the world was his cage. And as a slave answers to his Master, so Dorian had come to answer the call of Sunnydale. Yet there was something else, something besides the darkness within that called him here. Dreams, of a fire colored hair woman with eyes as black as death. A woman Fallen, who’s prescence called out to him. Called him to her. He knew she wzas here. He felt her, a soul of blackest Hell and brightest Heaven. He walked the night, as he did not fear any that went bump in the night. He found himself in front of waht looked to be a dive bar. A place called Willy’s.
This was a palce much like thos he could never stay waway from. The element here was of the darkest kind. He walked in, dismissing the glares of the patrons. Darkly amused, he watched the bar keep nervously filling drinks, his fear radiated around him. His hands shaking as he handed a shot to a petite, fragile looking woman, with fire red hair, dressed in form fitting black. Dorian noted the wide berth between her and the others that sat at the bar. He caught the glances of fear and admiration shot at her back. A slow smile was shown on his face. He moved to sit beside her. His eyes flicked first to the bar keep. “Scotch on the rocks. Start a tab for Dorian Grey and be quick ” The woman’s eyes snapped to his face. And his breath caught at the sifght. Pixie features, small, almost child like greeted him. A face devoid of any darkness, any taint. Fragile, vulnerable. In this place she stood out.She drew him in like a beacon. She was the very image of all that was innocent.
Yet her eyes, they told a different tale. Green, like the most precious of emeralds, and large. To those who did not know better it would only reinforce the belief of her vulnerability. But he saw beyond. He found darkness, a darkness there that matched his own. Pain, so much pain, that which belonged to one who hass seen to much, to fast, for to long. Numbness, a detachment to all around her. She had walked a path that the world would never comprehend, see, or understand. Broken with guilt, yet stronger than anyone he had come by in quite some time. She was beautiful. She was deadly. She was like looking in a mirrior It was a shock to his system, to know that he was no longer alone. Who knew what things she read in him, as her gaze held him there. A spark of life, perhaps the first in a long while flashed in her eyes. “Tell me, is it ignorence of who and what I am that keeps you in that seat, or knowing that exactly, Lord Grey?” her voice was light, soft, but not timid, though it sounded as though at one time it had been, and had been lost with her innocence.
The tone was sarcastic, but Dorian could detect the curiosity, the spark of interest, the lonliness he knew all to well. “Yes, and no. I know when I see someone lost in the Dark. I do not know how you got there. Though I am curious.” his tone was detached, lilting, but the interest could be read loud and clear. She smiled sadly. A image that would have made his old friend Basil weep to behold. He looked up as his Scotch was set on the bar. He reached for it, sipping slightly. The familiar burn made him more at ease. “Perhaps it would be better to leave you to it, your curiosity. It would be safer. I don’t want another to fall into misery or death because of me. Not now. It would be better if I could fade into the shadows.” she answered. Her tone was dark, devoid, an empty pain. He understood, more than she knew. How many times had he had that same desire? To many he drug down with him. Some he had no wish to do harm. Others just because he could. Sometimes he did it without intention but felt no regret.
But she was yet so very young Her fall had been recent, the descent fast. “Maybe, but I don’t want that, not for you. There are still chances for you. I look at you and see something of purity fallen into the abyss, and I want to know how, I want to know why Would you not speak with me?” he saw it again, the isolation, the lonliness. “If you wish. You will not be entertained by it though, Lord Grey. It is not an amusing or happy tale. This is not Shakespere, and I am not Hamlet. I would like it though...if in all this world just one person could understand They, all of them, my friends, will never understand. I will start you at the beginning but....” a small blush, one that transformed her for a brief moment into the young girl she should have been , appeared on her face before dissolving. “But, he urged for her to continue. For the first time in years, his own numbness began to crumble and he felt the isolation from the world more keenly. He wasn’t about to leave his spot.
“Liquid courage, if you will obligue. A Long Island Ice Tea with a lime and two shots of Spiced Rum. One for the each of us. Ask for the private room..” she said, a hint of shyness in her voice. He nodded and turned towasrds the bar keep. “A Long Island Iced Tea with two shots of spiced rum, to be had in your private room.” it looked for a moment like the bar keep would refuse but he fixed him with such a cold stare that he almost dropped the glass bottle of vodka he was holding. “Lord Grey, htat not be such a good....” “Willy, do you want to see why I am called the Dark One, why all your patrons bow to me? If not, do as you are told, when you are told to do it. Even better, if you forget we are here you will earn yourself a favor and more money then you’ll make in a month ” the emotionless tone to her voice seemed to send a shiver down the collective spine of all those in the bar. “As you wish, Miss Rosenberg.” Willy choked out He made the fixed drinks first, then the shots. Dorian was half afraid the man would spill them before they got into the private room just above the bar. Finally, they made it. The bar keep quickly set the drinks on a small wooden table before bolting.
He did not fail to see the guilt on the face of his companion as she watched him leave. The room was dusty, cob wens in the corners. It obviously had not been used in quite sometime. Curtains that once had been white were a faded sickly yellow. The furniture was just one couch, a mousy grey love seat to be exact. He sat first, gestering her to follow suit. She did so slowly, sliding her eyes up and down his form, yet looking more through than at him. She was calculating, friend or foe. Obviously she was no fool. His pretty face did not fool her for one second. It was a nice change to meet a woman who didn’t melt into putty at the very sight of him. “Tell me, when you look at me, what do you see?”she asked, her voice tired, sad. More the voice of an old soul than the chronilogical age she was. “Why ask a stranger?” he asked her, interested. He did as she had done, taking in her form, looking past it. She meant him no harm. He relaxed his posture, leaned back. As if to say, “No con, no games, no agenda, genuine interest.”
“I know who you are, Dorian. I know what you have done. It interests me to know what one who has done what you have done and seen what you have seen and lived what you have lived would think about what he sees.” her body was rigid. She did truly want to know A prospect he did not exactly expect. Kindred spirits, trapped in a personal hell. She knew it as well as he did. “I see a woman lost, caught between the Dark and the Light. Detached, for her wounds are not the kind most would ever understand. Guilt and pain, emptiness and self doubt.” the shocked look on her face showed that he had got her attention. HeShe was his mirrior image, Detached, dark, long for something more. “You see much, Dorian. But not all. Lost yes, By my own choice. I have done things... unforgiveable things. Things that even deeds such as yours do mot touch.” her voice broke. She was so fragile, a glass doll. But there was iron in her, something, an energy, a power, she was dangerous. It grew as she spoke, he could feel it. But it made him pull closer, want to know more. She could do nothing to push him away.
“We will start with an introduction.” she held out her hand, obviously intending for him to shake it, as was custom in America in these times. Amused, , he grinned at her and took it into his own. “So tell me then, to whom do I have the pleasure of speaking to?” he spoke, throwing in the velvet tone he was famous for. “My name is Willow Rosenberg, and I am a witch.”she answered. He slowly pulled the hand to his lips and laid a feathered kiss upon it. He caught the light blush on her face before she could hide it. He smirked inwardly. “Merry met, Willow Rosenberg, the witch.” at his slight antics she let a small giggle out. “Would you show me?” he asked. He hadn’t seen a genuine witch worth her salt in centuries It would be a real treat, and the power he felt from her made him think she was capeable of just about anything. He hated the look of pain that flashed upon her face. She should not know what he knew. Something inside him needed to know what happened to her. How did such purity fall? His hunger to know must have shown, for she began to ease.
“Not just now. Listen first. Tell me, what do you know of what goes bump in the night?” she asked. “That they, vampires, demons, gods, they all exist. And that the Balance here has been tipped dangerously in the wrong direction. There are Hunters who have taken it upon themselves to protect those around them and keep them in blissful ignorence. I have had run-ins with them before.” He willed himself not to remember being at the wrong end of a Winchestor blessed rifle. “Rumors of Champions and a Mystical Warrior.”he finished. “Hunters?” her question made him inwardly cursed himself. Those Hunters were going to be the bane of his existence yet “Later Little One. Continue.” It felt good to know he had caused a spark of life to gleam in those beautiful eyes. “When I was fifteen, there ws 3 of us, all best friends...” (Author to Readers: We all know Willo’s tale so we will cut to the end of her tale where she tried to end the world) He was stunned She had been the purist of the pure. But slowly, the judging, the sense of never being good enough, being useless had her scrambling and she had found magic while trying to help
Yet inspite of her natural apitude, no one ever taught her, they always ignored her when they weren’t asking for her to do this or that spell, heedless of what using magic on a Hellmouth of all places was doing to her, till she became a problem. The finding of love only to have it ripped away, he doubted angels could have held up long and endured as long as she did She gazed at him. She was waiting for his disgust, waiting for him to leave, if not try to purge the world of her existence. He understood more than she knew. “You fought, so long, so very hard. Your friends may love you but they never understood you. You are brilliant, a genious, that seperates you. To endure as long as you did is miracoulous to me. I do not judge you, not for one second I do not condone your actions, anymore than I do mine. But I’d never judge you. Don’t be so quick to dismiss my sins. They are not all recorded in The Picture of Dorian Grey, and I have lived a long while since that was published.
Tell me Willow, ever drag someone down, just because you were bored, they were there, and you could? Ever turn a soul into a tool for your own pleasure? Did you ever delight in taking someone’s innocence? How many souls have I lead a stray, I no longer know. At times I have done so without even trying to. I have murdered, stolen, pillaged. I have broke human souls, crushed dreams. I am a Destroyer, Little One. You are no greater a monster than I am, or any other creature that walks the night. You asked me what I see. When I laid eyes on you, it was like looking through a mirrior. We are monsters who long for the Light, to be understood, to move into the nuetral shades fo grey, and be accepted. He spoke. “Even though I don’t deserve it...” tears spilled down her cheeks. He moved close, wiped away the tears with a white gloved thumb. “Deserving has nothing to do with longing. I don’t deserve another’s understanding, but here it is, right here, in this room. I won’t feel guilty about finding it just because I don’t deserve it.” he said this with his characteristic smile and devil-may-care attitude.
He was rewarded with a small smile. “I thought I was healing, you know. I was redeeming myself, Tilll I learned...” her frame began to tremble. “It was ME I created the rift that He came through Because of me, we may all DIE ” she shook so very hard. He wasn’t expecting this revelation and a chill went down his spine at her words. “What do you mean, who is He Willow?” he asked, keeping his tone calm. “Don’t you feel it? From beneath you it devours, everyone feels it, everyone knows its coming The gathering Darkness, greater than ever before I brought the First Evil here ” bitter laughter bubbled up out of her. He never expected to learn something like this He wanted to change the subject, pluck this young one from her personal hell, if only for a moment. “Show me.” he said. His companion, who had turned her eyes to the floor, was shocked out of her self-loathing. “What?” she asked in confusion.
“You are one who has magic, show it to me.”he answered, as though it were the simplest thing in the world. “You know, you are not entirely sane Dorian. I tell you the world is coming to an end, and you want to see the magic that brought it to pass?” she quirked an eyebrow at him. “If I were sane, I would have been dead centuries ago, SHOW ME ” he insisted. “You are not going to drop this, are you?” she asked with a roll of her eyes. “Afraid not, Little One, show me ” he said again. “Oh for Goddess’s sake, stop with the freakin’ show me As you wish ” she got up from the love seat, then as she moved to the center of the floor she said “Well, come on.”he got up, a bit confused. He joined her in the center of the room. She sat on the floor an crossed her legs into a meditative pose. She gestured for him to do likewise facing her. He obeyed without a word. He watched her eyes close, her breathing slow. She raised her arms wlowly, till her hands met over her head and then slammed them back down to her sides in a cutting motion. He gasped as the power now bled into the room unrestrained, incredible energy, mixture of dark and light.
A brief smell of strawberries ws there. He gasped as he watched her fiery hair bleed into the darkes black. Her already pale skin lost all it’s color and veins became visible on her face. When she opened her eyes he fought the urge to run. They were pupiless, black as the abyss. “Tell me Dorian, do you still think me an poor unfortunate soul?” her voice was deeper, huskier, laced with power. There was an eery beauty to what he saw before him. Something unearthly, like a Fallen Angel. “Loss of innocence does not make one any less unfortunate.” he made himself answer. “Take my hand, if you wish to see. But once you do, you can not unsee it.” she moved on. “I am not someone you need to warn. I do not fear you.” he replied. “Then you are a fool. Aas you will. Close your eyes, do not for any reason let go of my hand.” He did as he was told. He heard her speaking, low, in Latin. He felt an alien energy surge through him. It was power like none he had ever encountered It unlocked soemting within himself.
A will, an authority that even after all this time, he never knew he possessed. This was what he tapped into, that long ago day when he wished his sins onto his portrait. He felt his own energy begin to twist around hers. They coiled around one another. He could see it, feel it. It gave him the first bit of peace he had felt since that fateful day when Basil had finished his portrait. He hard a gasp from his companion. Apparently, the witch had not expected this to happen. He opened one eye, just to get a glimpse of her expression. “When I tell you to do something, do it till I tell you otherwise. Keep your eyes shut and concentrate ”she commanded. “The energy witch What does it mean?” he demanded even as he obeyed. “I do not know. I don’t care. Neither should you. Don’t think on it. I need you to focus.” even in darkness there was a sweetness to her. She did not raise her voice. Of course, she had no real need to . “Imagine yourself light, light as a feather. Your body holds no weight. You are unbound from all the laws of gravity. See this in your mind’s eye. Know it in your heart. This is the only concern.” she spoke again. He did as he was bid.
Clearing his head of all other thoughts, all other ideas. He let himself feel the air around them. He saw himself as completely weightless. Willow continued to chant in Latin. Her presence was strong, he could feel it all around him, moving through him. Her power wrapped around him, almost like a warm blanket. The taste of strawberries was strangely on his tounge. Wind, he could feel wind sweep the room even though it had no window and the door was shut. Suddenly, he truly was weightless All the laws of gravity had melted away. He felt himself rise. “Open your eyes now, Lord Grey.” she commanded softly. A bit unsure, he opened one eye and then opened both in shock. Willow and he floated now 3 feet off the ground, spinning slowly in the air “Is this real?” he asked. She laughed gently. “No Dorian, your seeing things ” she quipped with a slight smirk. “You are enjoying this entirely to much.” he muttered under his breath.
“You asked Now close your eyes again.” she said. “No, not when I am 3 feet in the air witch ” he countered. “I could always drop you...” she drawed. “Then you are cruel.” he returned. She simply shrugged her shoulders, as though saying “you expected different?” He sighed deeply before complying. He couldn’t help but reflect on the fact that usually ir was the female that did HIS bidding “Keep thinking thoughts like that and I realy will drop you.” there was amusement in her voice. He could practically hear the laugher of every female he ever wronged. “That’s right, go ahead, laugh it up Enjoy me being under the control of a 90 lbs. red head ” he thought. Willow giggled gleefully. “Clear your mind again. Imagine all your walls, the lines of your mind’s defenses relaxing.” she said. He didn’t like the sound of that He knew what happened when he was last laid bare. “I am not going to pry where I am not wanted. There are somethings that one has to see to grasp. I want you to see, Goddess knows why But you have to let me in
You have to trust that I have no desire to cause you harm. Do as I ask, or we stop here.” she said. He nodded, hand still firmly clasping hers. He imagined that his defenses were seige towers. He visualized them moving back, giving an small opening. “You need to do better than that. No walls means no walls I will not travel where I am not wanted and I expect the same curteousy. You are going to have to trust me ” she spoke. “That is not a simple thing ” he spat, irritated. “But it is. It is you who complicate it. To trust is simple, ask any child. You have to learn mistrust.” she answered. He had never thought of it like that. To trust was simple, it was humanity that twists and complicates it. “If you betray me, or go back on your word, it does not matter how powerful you are, there will be no place for you to hide I will destroy you, am I understood ” with his words he felt his own energy surge and grow slightly darker in warning. This power shocked him, he had never displayed it before but used it now.
“I expect no less from you. We all have our secrets, and there are some things that are best kept out of the light of day.” there was a warning in her voice as well, he felt her power, new instinctively what it could do. Her voice was dangerous, she was dangerous, he knew he couldn’t allow himself to forget just who and what she was and what she was capeable of. With that mutual understanding he relented. He imagined his mental walls transparent, giving her the chance to walk through them without taking them down. “A nice compromise, it will serve.” she remarked. He felt warmth, her left hand was on the side of his face. Suddenly, he was no longer in his mind. He was there, with her. “It’s one thing to tell a story, it takes seeing with the naked eye for someone to truly understand.” she pointed to a fugure of herself. Here was a youger woman, with the same features his companion wore. But her face was clouded with restrained grief and there was madness in her eyes. Anger, rage, the pain of the whole world sitting on her shoulders. To much power, to soon, for someone to young, with to much grief It fueled a power raw and primal.
As he watched, the human man in him became stronger. She was more than his reflection, she was near identical to him, and for her to be that already when she was so young There would be no easy fixes for her. He watched as the memory continued to unfold. Together they watched her other self raise the ancient Satanic temple from the ground. And de-ja-vu occured for Dorian. Here was the very scene that had been replaying in his dreams for almost a year “Stop Little One, I know this scene. I have been here before. I have dreamed fo you, this moment, thous ands of times over. He had no desire to watch her come apart after her actions here. He silently plead with her. This hurt even an arch sinner like him to watch. He felt it all, the desperation, the despair. He couldn’t watch her crumble. He never hated the PTB more than he did right then His companion turned to face him. Do I disgust even you, Lord Grey?” she asked, her voice cracking. He stepped foward and took her hands.
“Never you, dear Willow. This world, yes, this place, absolutely. But never you. You need not relive a single second more of this ” and with that Dorian shut his eyes, pushed on his own authority, and sent them back into the room. He deliberately opened his eyes, wincing when both bodies hit the hard floor. “Why did you do me that kindness? You owe me nothing....” she trailed off. Her hair had bled black to red and her eyes retruned to that startling green. There were tears in them. “Friends are not easy to come by for the likes of us. Let alone one that can understand. Now that I’ve found you, I won’t be letting go.” he answered. “So we are friends, then?” she asked, her eyes boring into his. “You’ll won’t be rid of me anytime soon, lets put it that way.” he answered.
Everyone please forgive the typos, I typed this first chapter pretty fast. And be gentle. As stated above there will be more Willow goodness complete with babble to come and Dorian will show a bit of his lecherous dark side.