Touch of Evil
Prologue
Author: Amanda Arlequin
E-mail: aca203@is8.nyu.edu
Rating: R/NC-17 overall (some parts are mild)
Summary: This is the story of the cat and mouse game Angelus plays with
Willow, and the romance that follows.
Spoilers: This takes place after Angel loses his soul but before Becoming,
which never happened in my 'verse.
I will keep and discard Buffy lore as I see fit.
Disclaimer: While I have taken the liberty of adding a few characters of
my own creation, all of the original BtVS characters and their world
belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and The WB. All are used
without permission and no copyright infringement is intended.
November 17, 2004
Willow couldn't help but wonder what she was doing at the Bronze. Though
the club hadn't changed much in the years she'd been away, she no longer
felt comfortable within its walls. It was still a teenage club and she was
no longer a teenager. Not that Willow looked out place. At 23, she still
looked young enough to fit in. Too bad she didn't feel the way she looked.
Inside, Willow felt as if she had lived three lifetimes, and if the amount
of pain she lived with counted as anything, she probably had.
She sat at her corner table and watched the strange, youthful faces passing
by her. She knew no one in the club, not that she had expected to. Everyone
she had known and loved had left Sunnydale, like her, years ago. Her
motivation for coming here hadn't been out of the hopes of seeing someone
she knew. She supposed it had been nostalgia that had drawn her there. She
wanted to sit and remember the way things had been, before life had
intervened and changed things.
Willow sipped her coffee slowly. There was no band at the bronze tonight,
though Willow didn't mind. The DJ they had hired had a rather classic taste
in music. Many of the songs he was playing had been popular when she in
high school. At the moment, an old Pearl Jam song, Willow vaguely
recognized as one Oz had loved, was playing. Willow's body swayed as she
let the lyrics wash over her.
**I seem to recognize your face
Haunting, familiar, yet I can't seem to place it
Cannot find the candle of thought to light your name
Lifetimes are catching up with me
All these changes taking place, I wish I'd seen the place
But no one's ever taken me
Hearts and thoughts they fade, fade away... **
Willow watched the couples dancing with sad eyes. Her eyes latched on to a
trio of youths, no older than 17, dancing off to the side of the dance
floor. They could have easily been her, Buffy and Xander. Willow's throat
constricted painfully as memories washed over her. < I miss those days so
much. Things were so much simpler then. Sure we had vampires and demons to
deal with, but we had each other. We were best friends, inseparable. The
slayer and her faithful slayerettes. I thought nothing would ever tear us
apart. How naive I was. >
Willow blinked back tears, her eyesight blurring. In her mind's eye, she
could picture Buffy and Xander, as they had been 6 years ago. The image was
so clear it was almost as if they were standing there beside her.
When Willow's eyes spotted the tall figure near the entrance of the Bronze,
she thought he was part of her mind, a hallucination like that of Buffy and
Xander. It was only when he turned to face her that she realized he was
real and not some apparition from her past. She paled visibly, her body
shaking in recognition.
**I swear I recognize your breath
Memories like fingerprints are slowly raising
Me, you wouldn't recall, for I'm not my former
It's hard when you're stuck upon the shelf
I changed by not changing at all; small town predicts my fate
Perhaps that's what no one wants to see
I just want to scream...hello...
My god it's been so long, never dreamed you'd return
But now here you are, and here I am
Hearts and thoughts they fade...away... **
Willow's heart beat a staccato rhythm in her chest, her eyes widening in
disbelief at the sight of him. He looked the same as he had the last time
she had seen him.
Willow's eyes hungrily took in his dark, sable soft hair, the liquid brown
warmth of his eyes. His face was all planes and angles, a study in
architecture. His lips, Willow had always loved those lips, were full and
pouty. Willow always found it remarkable, but also incredibly sexy, that a
guy's lips could be pouty. She had always thought that particular feature
was reserved for girls.
Willow could feel her body warming with desire as she took in his clothing.
As usual, his shirt and pants were black. The velvet and cotton materials
hung loosely on his body in a look that was incredibly flattering on his
muscular frame. He looked just as good as he did in skintight leather.
It was with faint horror and embarrassment that Willow realized that he was
starring back at her. The expression on his face and in his eyes was
unreadable to Willow.
These questions and doubts raced through Willow's mind in a millisecond.
Now that they were finally being reunited, Willow didn't know what to do,
how to feel, how to act, what to say. Her heart constricted painfully in
her chest.
All the love Willow had felt for him long ago, the love she had been
repressing while they had been apart, swelled up painfully in her chest.
Her instincts were to run over and throw her arms around him; to bury her
face in his chest and wrap herself in his protective arms. To surround
herself with his reassuring presence and bask in his love. Of course, she
couldn't do that now. For all she knew, his love for her had died long ago.
His face shifted, an emotion Willow couldn't identify flashing across his
face. Then, before Willow could even react, he began to cross the club
towards her. Keeping her face as neutral as possible, Willow waited for him
to reach her table. He avoided her gaze until he was directly in front of
her. When he looked up, Willow gasped at the naked emotion shinning from
their depths. "Willow," he breathed, his voice husky with pent up feeling.
Willow smiled timidly, afraid she might be misreading his eyes, yet hopeful
nonetheless. Her voice quivered as she opened her mouth to speak and she
realized she was on the verge of tears once again.
Before she could say anything, he surged forward, pulling her into his
embrace. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, unashamed as the tears
began to fall. Burying her face into his shoulder, her cheek rubbing
against soft velvet she let out the breath she hadn't realized she was
holding, "Angel."
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Part One
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