Actions and Reactions

by Melissa

Willow stood undecided in front of the door of the mansion. She was fairly sure that this wasn't a good idea and yet she couldn't shake the memory of his eyes when he'd looked at her. There has been such hate and pain and rage directed at her. The memory was strong that a shiver slid down her spine. He had flinched back from her. Her! So when Buffy and Angel had gone hunting tonight she'd volunteered to stay with the Angel doppleganger. They had all felt that he was still to new to this world and its ways to stay alone and they didn't want any repeats of the Cordelia incident. So she found herself here outside the mansion unsure if she was the right choice for this assignment or not. Shifting her backpack up a little higher on her shoulder she took a deep calming breath and knocked.

The door swung silently open, the interior shrouded in shadows. Off to the side of the door she could see the hunched form of a larger shadow. Swallowing down the lump of nervousness in her throat she stepped into the doorway.

The shadowed form retreated before her, quiet words tossed over his shoulder as he moved further back. "I don't need a nursemaid."

"I-I not." She tried hard to hide that nervous stutter. "Angel and Buffy just thought you shouldn't be alone. We just want to make sure you . . . you know. . . are safe."

"Safe. That's funny." His voice was curiously flat, as if he couldn't imagine anyone caring for his well being.

"Angel . . ."

"Puppy," he interrupted with a snarl.

Willow flinched at his tone but didn't back away. She shook her head. "No, I won't . . . I won't call you that. It's . . . It's not good.

The vampire that looked so much like their Angel raised his eyes for the first time. His voice was silky when he spoke and for some reason his voice scared Willow more than the growl he'd let out earlier. "You don't like Puppy? How strange, since you are the once that named me."

He stalked toward her, his eyes burning. Willow felt her fear rising. This was not how this was supposed to go.

Angel continued in that same soft voice, raising the goosebumps on her arms. "I've hated you for two and half years. I've begged you for my death while you laughed at me. You've tormented me and tortured me and used me as plaything and sex toy and . . .puppy." He spat the last word out.

"Angel . ."

He had her backed up against the table now, her fear strong, her heart pounding as she stared into his eyes. Angel closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring. "You're afraid. Good." He opened his eyes, now the feral amber of the vampire. "I've dreamed of killing you. It used to be my one and only joy, thinking of ways I could kill you. And every way was slow and painful, paying you back for every pain you ever caused me."

In a lightening fast move he lashed out, his hand circling the back of her neck. With steady force he pulled her closer, lips pulled back in a snarl, exposing his elongated fangs.

Willow pulled against the force of his hand but she was no match for his strength. Panicked her mind spun in ever widening circling trying to come up with something, anything to say or do that would stop him. "Please, Angel, don't do this. That wasn't me. Please. You don't want to do this. B-Buffy will kill you."

That last seemed to stop him for moment. Then he smiled at her, though there was no humor in his expression. "To be able to feel your blood on my hands, I think I would welcome death. Then I won't have to worry about the nightmares any more."

Then he was leaning towards her, his fangs cold against the skin of neck. Willow's mind went blank and then the images she'd seen of his reality spun through her. In a second, she saw it all again and knew exactly what she had to do. Moving the hand that pushed ineffectually at his chest, she reached up and grabbed a handful of his hair. With a sharp yank she jerk his head backwards. With that small space between them she drew back her hand and slapped him as hard as she could.

He staggered back more out of reflex than any actual pain but it was enough. Leaning back on the table, she lifted one foot and planted it in his chest sending him stumbling to the floor. Adrenaline and fear pounding though her giving her the strength.

Angel landed hard, his eyes stunned but slowly fear filled his face as he looked up at the image of an angry Willow, his reality of what had been mixing up with the reality of what was.

Pitching her voice low and deadly, Willow sing-songed. "So, Puppy wants to play, does he? But Puppy's forgotten, around here we only play my games."

Pushing herself off from the table, she fought her instinct to drop to his side to comfort him. Letting the horrible images in her mind guide her she lashed out hard with her foot, catching him in the ribs. He grunted at the pain. "My games, little puppy."

Before her eyes, two and half years of "training" took over and Angel lay back on the cold stone floor, his arms stretched out and over his head as if held by invisible chains.

Seeing him there, helpless, afraid, something dark inside of her stirred until she wasn't just following the memories of another place and time but living them, here and now. Slowly, she straddled his hips, grinding her sex against his. She wasn't surprised to feel the beginnings of his erection. She grinned down at him, showing perfect white teeth.

She curled the hand that rested on his chest into a claw, sinking her nails into the criss-crossed burns and scars that littered his chest.

Then she saw the single blood red tear that ran out from under one closed eyelid. Disgust rolled through her, breaking the hold of the images in her mind. With a cry of horror she leapt to her feet. "Oh god, I'm sorry. So sorry," she babbled at Angel who still lay on the ground like one crucified.

Her stomach roiling, she ran, grabbing her backpack as she flew out the door. She'd only taken a few stumbling steps when, with a cry, she dropped to shaking knees, vomiting up the contents of her earlier supper. End