![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
Light's, Sound's, Place's, Town's By: VanessaSky Disclaimer: Joss Whedon need I say more. Distribution: Want, Take, Have Summary: He doesn't like why he left anymore, she doesn't know why he came. AN: Please engage your denial and suspend your disbelief now. AN2: No Parker here, Oz never leaves, Buffy’s not as happy as she look’s, Spike already been chipped. Spoilers: None really my own little world fic. Alt season 4. Feedback: Please like I beg all the time. And not just with anybody your special. Enjoy! ----------------------- On the darkest night Sunnydale had seen in a while, a man clad in only the darkest of black walked the streets with such power the only noise where the whispers in the wind. He walked with purpose as always, and extended his coming home party to no one. He melted into the dark corners of the shadows where only the wicked would hide. But as he continued on his path the wicked grew fearful, and returned to the cramped nests and sewers of the small town. He had a mission, a job to do. One he swore after long nights, and tiresome fights in LA he would not allow the luxury of until he could no longer bear the pain. He was tired and bone weary with the knowledge that all he would ever need waited for him in the form of the most beautiful woman god had every blessed the earth with. So with fierce determination, and the hopeful reminder that he left this perfect angel for a life she better deserved, he stalked the darkness in search for even a glimpse of her happiness. That's all he needed. That's all he craved. The knowledge that he had told her to move on and she had. But what he craved more was the knowledge that what he deemed as the right thing hadn't destroyed the most precious thing ever bestowed to his care. Hadn't made her as soul weary, and hurt as his was now. He finally found his goddess in the only club to ever grace the town. He took to the darkness he knew was available, and watched with anticipation the way her body was caressed by the music coming from a large speaker hanging in the rafters. One by one patrons fled the club. Taking understanding over common sense and running with it. He did not blame them. The show would not last long, and by the time it was over. He would revel in the wonder at how he made it out alive. If he even wanted to. The music loved her, and she it. She was a goddess on an altar that was created for her and her alone. The light surrounding her pushed the darkness covering her heart away. Pushed the hurt away. All the pain. Dressed in only the smallest of skirts and tightest of tops she danced the only way she knew how. She danced for him. For his pleasure. For his pain. For his heart. She knew he was there, hiding in the quite shadows. Watching her from afar as always. It did not bother her tonight. Tonight she was here for her pleasure, not just his. The thought gave her power. The power to switch her hips and move her body the way she saw fit. Not the way her so called mate would allow. But the way she felt. Her heart, her mind, her body. But you love his soul. The aching between her thighs intensified, and the heat coming off her in waves grew more forceful. Click to Continue Click to Return to Buffy/Angel Index Click to Return Home |