Title: Conversations kill
Parts: 6 of 7 in series
Email Saber at: daschus@attbi.com
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon is responsible for everything that is Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Summary: Buffy gets kiddnaped, and is forced to participate to a serie of crazy survival games.. with a very interesting partner.
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Post Lovers Walk
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Drivin' faster in my car
Falling farther from just what we are
Smoke a cigarette and lie some more
These conversations kill
Falling faster in my car
"I still can't believe you shagged her, mate," Spike said, settling himself back on the couch, one booted foot propped up on the table.
"That was taking a risk that even I wouldn't dare to do."
"Shut up, Spike," Angel scowled.
"What happened to all that bloody self-control the Slayer praised you on?" he asked, taking a drag on his cigarette.
"Spike-"
"Come on, you sod. What in the world possessed you to take her?"
"I couldn't stop," Angel finally admitted after a few moments of silence.
"It was...I couldn't...sweetness."
"What?" Spike said, frowning at the vampire standing by the fireplace.
"Overwhelming sweetness. I was drowning," Angel said.
"All I was going to do was kiss her, but that sweetness dragged me in. I couldn't get enough of her, I needed to have her." He sighed.
"Maybe I was possessed."
"Tell me, mate. Did this ever happen with my Slayer?" Spike asked, emphasizing the word ‘my.'
"No, never," Angel replied.
"With Buffy it was always dangerous, like I was risking my life just for a small taste of heaven. But I was in control, we both made the conscious decision that ended up costing me my soul. With Willow, however..."
"You knew if you didn't have her, you would bloody combust right then and there," Spike said.
"And not because you were horny. Something was calling to you..."
"Like a Siren calls the sailor," Angel finished. He looked over his shoulder at Spike, studying his pensive expression. The other vampire rolled his cigarette between his fingers, staring off into space.
"You've felt this way?"
Spike turned his eyes on Angel, the blue orbs reflecting an emotion the older vampire couldn't name.
"Yeah."
Time to take her home
Her dizzy head is conscience laden
Time to take a ride
It leaves today no conversation
Time to take her home
Her dizzy head is conscience laden
Time to wait to long
To wait to long
These conversations kill
"Joy, look what just came," Buffy said, entering her bedroom after getting the door. She held up a familiar video tape.
Willow was seated on the bed, flipping through a spell book when the Slayer came back to the room. When she saw the tape, her eyes widened and she turned first white, then bright red.
"Are we going to watch it?" she asked in a tight, high voice.
"If you want," Buffy replied.
"It's pretty much one big porno on me and Spike's end of the last Game. We were stuck in one puzzle for at least a day, if not more. I'm glad there was a bathroom right there, or I would have been one skanky Slayer."
Willow couldn't help but giggle.
"Buffy, the Skanky Slayer."
"Bad, huh?" Buffy asked with a grin.
"Watch the tape or no?"
"No," Willow replied quickly.
"We know what happened. We were there. No need to see the video. No need to relive the excitement. Nope. No need to do that."
Buffy nodded and stuck the tape in the box with the other two, then plopped back onto the bed with the hacker.
"You never did tell me what you and Angel did in that room for what? Two days or so?"
"It was longer than that," Willow mumbled, studiously looking at the book on her lap.
"And we...talked. Yeah, talked. It was boring. Nothing happened. Why would anything have happened? This is Angel, your Angel."
"Will, you're babbling," the Slayer pointed out.
"And Angel's not mine anymore. I have Spike and all his salty goodness."
Willow bit her lower lip, gearing up her courage to ask her best friend something.
"Buffy? What's it like?"
"What's what like?" Buffy asked.
"Spike and you and...sex," she clarified, turning red again.
"Uncontrollable," Buffy answered, leaning back on the pillows.
"This is gonna sound kinda gross, but it's like I'm melting into him. Kinda like that X-Files episode where Mulder and that dude who was on Laverne and Shirley switched places and those kids at the end found the black mailbox, which was painted white, and then the ripple came over them and the two that were kissing were all stuck together, with her arm coming out of his back and their faces melted together."
"You're right, that is gross," Willow teased.
"But I remember that episode. That's the one where the lizard got his head stuck in a rock."
"That's the one," she said.
"Feels like that." Willow nodded.
"What's up with the question? Planning on doing the deed with someone?"
The red head blushed even more.
"N-No. That is, well, some day, when I'm older. And wiser. And have someone to do the-the deed with. Not now or back in the house. Nope, not in the house. So, how about this spell?"
Buffy frowned at her friend. Something had happened back at the house the other day, but she wasn't able to figure out what. It couldn't have been sex, because she was with Angel the whole time and Angel couldn't do that. Maybe it was the scare of dying - no one wanted to die a virgin. With a mental shrug, she concentrated on the spell Willow suggested.
To much walkin', shoes worn thin
To much trippin' and my souls worn thin
Time to catcha ride
It leaves today
Her name is what it means
To much walkin'
Shoes worn thin
"Angel?" Willow called as she entered the mansion later that night.
"Are you here?"
"Willow, hi," Angel greeted, walking quickly from his bedroom to meet her.
She shyly ducked her head after giving him a small smile.
"Hi. I, uh, was wondering if we could talk."
"Sure," he replied, gesturing to the couch Spike had occupied earlier that day. As soon as the sun set, the blond vampire had disappeared, presumably to meet with Buffy.
"How are you doing?"
"I'm good," Willow said.
"Well, good in the sense that we're out of that house and no one seems to know what we did and I was able to put off Buffy seeing the tape and I am feeling really uncomfortable right now."
"Willow," Angel said, taking her hand in his. She looked up at him from under her lashes.
"You don't ever have to be uncomfortable around me. What happened between us was wonderful and special. I am going to apologize, however, for not having more control, especially because thirty seconds after I told you no, we were involved in a serious yes." His lips quirked in a small grin.
"It was like drowning," Willow said suddenly, a thoughtful look on her face.
"Buffy said it was suppose to be like melting, but it wasn't. Did we do something wrong?"
Angel laughed. He couldn't help it, so innocent was her question.
"No, Willow, we did it exactly right," he told her.
"I felt the same way."
"From the tone of your voice, I take it we won't be swimming anytime soon," she said.
"I'm sorry, Willow," Angel replied.
"I'm leaving at the end of the summer."
"Why?" Willow asked, both surprised and sad. She liked Angel, as in like like and didn't want something that had just started to end so suddenly.
"I have to," he answered.
"I was planning on leaving because of Buffy..."
"Oh," she said morosely.
"But now I'm leaving because I won't be able to be around you without fear of wanting to carry you off and making love to you for days on end," he finished.
Her eyes widened.
"Oh," she said again, this time in wonder.
"Just sitting this close to you is straining my control," Angel confessed, tracing patterns on her hand with his thumb. He released it and abruptly stood, walking quickly to the other side of the room.
"I'm sorry, Willow. My soul is already worn thin because of the guilt. I couldn't stand it if I hurt you by losing it."
"I guess I'd better go then," she replied, standing.
"Um, good luck. In LA, that is. I'll, uh, see ya."
Time to take her home
Her dizzy head is conscience laden
Time to take a ride
It leaves today no conversation
Time to take her home
Her dizzy head is conscience laden
Time to wait to long
To wait to long
These conversations kill
Spike sat on the hill outside of the mansion on a large rock, looking over the town. His arm rested on his one bent knee, cigarette in his other hand as he thought about his conversation with Angel. He ignored the hunger gnawing at him, both for blood and for the tiny blond Slayer that had invaded his life and his undead heart. Instead, his mind turned to the Siren who had sang out to him, inviting him to drown.
These conversations kill
The End