Title: I Will Never Speak Freely
Author: Grasshopper (A.K.A. The Undertaker’s Muse)
Warnings: Bad language. Angst.
Pairing: Willow/Cash, Cash/Sasha
- post “Grave,” but nothing from season 7. KtE
- post “Cabin In The Woods.”
- “Grave.” KtE
- “Romeo and Juliet.”
Summary: Response to QPC #113 (http://quickie.moonlitpaths.com
). Sequel to “But It’s Too Far Gone…”
, Where Angels Burn
. Anyone else, just keep my name on it and let me know where it’s going.
Disclaimer: Other than the story itself, nothing and no one belong to me. *pout* But I want Cash! *stomps foot* Title comes from “Do You Believe Me?” by The Juliana Theory.
I have a weakness for red hair.
Lovely red curls…
Long, baby-fine locks…
And always red.
This was not how things were supposed to turn out, but things haven’t gone the right way since the Brujah scum-
Since the Brujah took Sasha from me.
I know it’s futile; that in the end, we won’t be able to move past the fact that I’m Gangrel and she’s Brujah. Everything we are taught to believe after we're Embraced objects to our love. Even our bodies object; the blood in our veins screaming at us to turn back.
We don’t, of course. That would be the smart thing - the right thing - to do. But when have either Sasha or I been accused of being smart, let alone righteous.
We were doomed from the beginning; that was obvious to everyone but us, and even we had our doubts. It’s just a matter of when.
But Willow… With Willow, there was the possibility of something new…something pure and untainted by Kindred ways. Not to imply that Willow’s innocent; far from it, actually. Just about everyone in the supernatural world knows - if not who she is - what she did. She, quite possibly, could be the most powerful person on the planet that is still completely human.
It’s strange how one minute, everything can look to futile and the next, you’re staring your future in the present. At least, that was how it seemed. After yet another argument with Sasha, I had made my way to my Prince’s table for whatever business it was to be that night. That was when I spotted her. Willow.
She was so beautiful, even standing next to Sasha. It was obvious enough that she wasn’t happy; anyone who was the slightest bit sensitive to magick and within a ten mile radius could have felt it. It was also obvious that she was relatively used to the amount of Kindred in her presence. Not too many are like that, including a few of our own kind.
I was surprised that Julian wanted me to walk her home, it’s not his normal style, but I did as my Prince ordered.
“So what kind are you?”
“Excuse me?” I didn’t expect her to ask questions of me. Must be the prejudiced Kindred in me.
“Vampire. What kind of vampire are you?”
a question I ever thought she’d ask.
“How do you know that I am?” Real smooth, Cash. Be a smart-ass.
“Do you always answer a question with a question?”
“I’m Gangrel. Their Primogen.” Hey, dumbass! Stop talking before you tell her everything about you from your preferred underwear - or lack thereof - to your relationship with Sasha!
“Gangrel… That brings to mind images of David Heath.”
“David Heath. Of the Brood? Do you ever watch wrestling?”
Oh. Wasn’t expecting that.
“Not really a fan.”
“So how do you know about Kindred?” Great, just great. Ask her personal questions; there’s no way you’ll ever
piss her off with that.
“Oh… I grew up in Sunnydale.”
“The Hellmouth.” Well fuck me with a telephone pole. No wonder she’s so fucking powerful.
“That must suck.”
“Immensely…especially if you’re a vampire.”
“Wha- That was horrible.” And cute. Really cute.
“I know. Not really much for the quips and retorts anymore.”
“Yeah, there’s nothing quite like trying to end the world to change that about a person.” Shit!
I did not
just mention that, did I?
“I heard. A lot of people know. That’s a hazard of being powerful in this world.” Perfect excuse - the truth.
“Oh. Well… I guess this is my stop.”
“Yeah, it is. So I should probably get going.” Ask me to stay.
“Yeah, you probably should.”
, Cash. Move it before she gets pissed or something. Really, man, you have
to stop staring at the gorgeous redhead.
After a few moments of memorizing her features, I kissed her cheek. Then I left.
And I doubt I’ll ever see her again. I will not track her down; I will not call her; I will never have any kind of contact with Willow Rosenberg ever again.
If this is how it’s got to be, I have only three words...
Kill me. Please.The End