Touch of Evil
Part Thirteen
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.
**And I don't cry for yesterday.
There's an ordinary world somehow I have to find.
And as I try to make my way to the ordinary world
I will learn to survive.**
~Ordinary World by Duran Duran~
"Hey Will, long time no see, huh." Buffy broke into a huge grin at the
sight of her best friend. Before she knew it, Willow had stepped outside
to wrap her old friend in a huge hug. Buffy returned the embrace with
equal fervor.
"My God, Buffy, I just can't believe it's really you. It wasn't for the
fact that all my dreams are actually nightmares, I'd think this was one."
Buffy winced at Willow's casual joking, but chose not to comment. There'd
be time for serious talking later. Right now Buffy wanted to enjoy the
reunion. As the two friends pulled apart, they each fell into a visual
examination of the other, noting the physical changes time and circumstance
had wrought. Buffy silently took in the hacker's half dressed, mussed hair
appearance with a slight smirk. Her friend had done a lot of changing in
the past year. She could tell, just from the tilt of her head and the way
Willow held herself. This new Willow standing before her was one who felt
completely comfortable with her body, exuding a confidence that was wholly
feminine. The transformation from the shy girl Buffy had befriended all
those years ago was startling, causing her eyes to widen in surprise.
Willow's own eyes widened as she took in the numerous yellowish purple
bruises covering the various parts of the slayer's body. "Buffy, what
happened to you? And what are you doing in Italy? Is Giles with you? How
did you know where to find me?" Once Willow started with the questions she
found she couldn't stop. If Buffy hadn't interrupted, she would have kept
on. There was just too much she wanted to know.
Buffy held up a hand. "Will, stop. Take a breathe. Now, how bout you
invite me in, we eat a little dinner cause airplane food- not a good thing-
and then I'll explain everything."
Willow was instantly remorseful. "Of course, how silly of me. Come in
Buffy, I'll make you some dinner." As Willow turned to lead her friend
inside, she almost ran smack into the momentarily forgotten Adrian, who was
still standing frozen in the doorway, the expression on his face
unreadable. Feeling flustered, Willow slipped into her trademark babbling.
"I am such a doof, I mean, first I don't even think about how Buffy must
be hungry and tired from the long flight and then I forget to even
introduce you guys. I swear, sometimes I don't know where my mind is. You
know, I'm just surprised by all of this… and there I go again, going off
and forgetting the point. Adrian, this is Buffy, slayer extraordinare and
my best friend. Buffy, this is Adrian, my angel in disguise."
Angel frowned slightly, his eyebrows twitching at Willow's coincidental,
though incredibly apt, choice of words. Buffy, meanwhile, was busy giving
Adrian an appreciative once over before extending her hand forward. "It's
nice to meet you, Adrian. I've heard a lot about you- all good by the way."
Angel drew in a sharp breath, pulling himself together long enough to
grasp the proffered hand and reply. "I've heard a lot about you too Buffy-
the pleasure is mine."
Willow was too busy heading towards the kitchen to notice the exchange
between the two closest people in her life, nor the look of pain marring
Adrian's handsome features as Buffy brushed past him to follow Willow into
the house. She paused to glance back at Adrian, who still stood in the
same spot, his head tilted downward as he stared at something on the floor.
Puzzled by both his reactions and her own feelings of déjà vu when she had
stared into his eyes, Buffy made a move to speak. Her words died in her
throat as Willow called to her from the kitchen, asking if pasta was
alright since that there wasn't much else in the fridge, considering how
they were in Italy and all. Buffy couldn't help but join in Willow's
laughter as she headed in the direction Willow had gone moments earlier.
Angel closed the door but remained in the foyer, listening to the distant
chattering of two of the only women he had ever loved. He felt his brows
furrowing as he entered into what Buffy had always teasingly referred to as
his "Brood Mode." Angel knew the two girls were probably waiting for him
but he couldn't bring himself to join them just yet. His mind had yet to
catch up with the evenings turn of events, and considering how numb he felt
seeing Buffy again after all this time, he wasn't sure a few minutes alone
would be enough. He wasn't at all prepared for the feelings seeing her
again were evoking.
It was harder than he imagined it would be, especially considering she had
no idea it was him. She had changed since the last time he had seen her,
and those changes had shocked him even though they hadn't been entirely
unexpected. It wasn't so much her outward appearance, which hadn't changed
much beyond her hair color, which was now as blond as it had been when he'd
first seen her. No, the changes in Buffy lay deeper than a new shade of
hair dye. The changes lay in her eyes and in the slight hardening in the
muscles of her jaw. The pain of her experiences had etched itself upon
Buffy's beautiful face, robbing her of the playful, childlike innocence
that had once defined her. There was no longer that fire in her gaze, that
mischievous sparkle, which both time and circumstance had extinguished. In
the end, it hadn't been the burden brought upon by her role as the chosen
one that had accomplished it, but merely the consequences of his love.
None of the demons and creatures of the night she had seen before had been
able to affect the slayer or destroy her innocence, like watching the man
she had once loved with all her heart and soul turn into the man she would
now have to kill. Instead of dedicating herself in love to him, she was
forced to dedicate herself in hate.
Seeing her again was opening wounds that had slowly but surely begun to
heal, dousing him in a pool of self-loathing and guilt. Being with Willow,
Angel had been blanketed in a false sense of security. He'd allowed
himself some peace with Willow, losing himself in her unconditional love,
so that she could heal some of his wounds. Now, face to face with the most
glaring example of all the pain he'd caused and the mistakes he'd made,
Angel could feel the wounds beginning to fester. Seeing the woman he had
once loved more than life itself, whom he still loved and would always hold
a special place in his heart, was throwing the new life he had tried to
build into question.
It wasn't that Angel now found himself questioning his love for Willow. He
knew with his entire being that she was the woman he was meant to be with,
the other half of himself. No, his love for the two women was as different
as night and day, neither one compromising the other. The love he now felt
for Buffy was that of warm affection, a knowledge that she had been the one
to open him up and tap into feelings that had been buried for over 200
years. The love he felt for her was such that he didn't want to hurt her,
and finding out that he had never felt the burning depth of desire and love
which he now felt for her best friend; that it had always been Willow for
him though he hadn't realized it at first, well, that would wound her
deeply. And wounding either Buffy or Willow was something he never wanted
to do.
Angel frowned, knowing the only conceivable outcome to this was one or
both of the girls getting hurt. Buffy because he had loved her too much
but, at the same time, not enough to prevent her further pain. Willow,
well, there were too many ways Angel could end up hurting her without
meaning to that he felt guilty already. Strangely, the guilt felt right to
Angel, as if he deserved it. After all, the feeling of living in a
perpetual state of guilt was more natural to him that the state of peaceful
bliss he had been experiencing the past few months with Willow. He was on
familiar ground again.
Realizing he had been lost in his thoughts for quite awhile and was
probably missed, Angel collected himself and entered the kitchen. Instead,
he found the two friends seated at the kitchen table, plates filled with
leftover pasta Lucinda had made the other night in front of them. They
were deep in conversation, catching up on old times, and didn't appear to
have noticed his prolonged absence.
Plastering a bright smile on his face, Angel took a seat between Willow,
who immediately turned to smile back at him, her face radiating her joy.
"Adrian, isn't it so great Buffy's here? I mean, it's just been like
forever and now it feels just like old times, only without the supposedly
unstoppable evil of the week that needs to be researched and destroyed."
Angel smile turned natural as he listened to Willow work herself up into
one of her excited states which was always accompanied by her babbling and
the cutest expression on her face. Angel reached over to grasp Willow's
hand, giving it a loving squeeze as a surge of warm affection swept over
him. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Buffy wince when Willow
mentioned the absence of an evil. A sense of foreboding colored Angel's
mood as he observed Buffy unconsciously raise her hand to her face, her
fingers lightly brushing a particularly nasty bruise falling across the
right side of her neck and lower jaw line.
Trying to sound casual, Angel turned towards Buffy and asked, "So, what
brings you to Italy? I hope it's a social visit and nothing more serious."
The flash of emotion in her eyes confirmed the worry that had begun to
take root inside Angel. When the silence began to stretch out, with Buffy
avoiding both their gazes, Angel felt Willow's tormented realization that
something was wrong. Her grip on his hand tightened while her shoulder's
slumped in a sign of defeat, as if she had known that Buffy's presence was
too good to be true, and trouble was always just around the corner.
"Buffy." Willow's voice, barely above a whisper, was markedly different
from moments ago, all the carefree joy drained away and replaced by a grim
resignation. The air in the room felt charged with tense emotion.
Willow's voice held a quiet authority that forced Buffy to look up and meet
her gaze. "Why are you here, Buffy? What's wrong?"
On to
Part Fourteen
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Part Twelve
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