Part 23

Angelus paced the room and cursed himself repeatedly. He was an idiot. What on earth had possessed him to tell Willow she could leave? Had he gone completely fucking nuts? Apparently. He couldn’t lose her. That wasn’t acceptable.

The bedroom was stifling and added to his feelings of restlessness and frustration. It was the same credit to good taste it had always been, but was quiet and still in a way that made him feel the entire world was empty except for him. Willow’s presence was necessary to animate it. Without her, it, and he himself, felt barren. She was just down the hall, but the distance felt vast.

Flopping down on the bed, he winced. His gut wound from the night before still pained him. Gingerly, he bent down and removed his shoes and socks. Actually, he did know what his reasoning had been at the moment he’d told her she could go if she chose. He sighed and ran a frustrated hand through his hair, staring into space. He’d felt confident Willow would stay and that by making her feel like she had a choice, she’d see how much she wanted to be with him. It had been a gamble, one predicated by knowledge of how her mind worked.

He rose and resumed pacing. He felt like a cat on a hot tin roof. He hated variables, and that’s what he was facing now.

Willow had said that she loved him. She’d said that his boorish behavior hadn’t been a complete shock. Those things, combined with what he’d learned about her nature from living with her, had helped form his opinion that she would stay if she didn’t feel trapped. Feeling trapped made people act rashly, and he didn’t want her feelings about him and their future together influenced by a knee-jerk reaction to a very unpleasant episode. He wanted her to look at the big picture, the entirety of what they had shared since she had been with him.

They’d had glorious times together. She’d grown a great deal and she’d learned there was much, much more to her than she had previously imagined. By becoming cognizant of previously unrecognized qualities, she’d been able to expand on them. Also, she’d come to see herself as a sexual being who was more than capable of pleasing a man. She’d become a woman. An impressive woman.

Therein lies the rub, he thought ruefully. Impressive women had minds of their own, damn it. Sure, it was a sexy, attractive trait, but hell. Shit. No doubt about it, insecure mice were much easier to manage. But who the fuck wanted to be saddled with that kind of woman for all eternity?

Impatiently, he unbuttoned his shirt and untucked it. It irked him to no end, but the fact of the matter was, for them to have the future he envisioned, she’d have to be allowed free will. He worried his lower lip with his teeth in consternation.

Ultimately, he saw them traveling the world, living an adventurous, exciting life of wealth and privilege. That couldn’t happen without an airtight commitment from her. He needed to know that she wouldn’t bolt at the first sign of discord between them. Her response to today’s conversation would demonstrate exactly where their relationship stood on that front.

Before he could even consider exposing her to the world outside of the estate’s gates, he needed to be confident that she understood how possessive he was. Finally, he stopped pacing and sat in one of the wingchairs by the fireplace. That was one thing he was fucking sure today’s debacle had accomplished, he thought with a growl of disgust. Willow had seen how possessive he was.

She had experienced firsthand how irrational and brutal his jealousy could be. On the one hand, he felt contempt at himself for his loss of control, on the other hand, he knew an outburst like that was inevitable sooner or later. Absolutely, she needed to know his true colors and that he had no tolerance for flirtation, or anything resembling it, with other men. But while it was necessary for her to know who he was and what he was about, had he sabotaged their future by a display of that magnitude this early on?

With things in their present state of jeopardy, he realized he’d made a strategic error. He’d been feeling all noble about having a ‘real’ relationship, but, in reality, he hadn’t. He’d still been controlling and game-playing by not coming clean about their shared dreams and his suspicions about their parallels as a couple with Genevieve and Nicholai. If he’d told her about all of that, it might have impressed upon her their…inevitability. And tied her to him. He now felt he’d made a gross miscalculation by playing his cards so close to the vest. Possibly. Maybe.

He reclined in his chair and stretched his legs out. What was done was done, he thought grumpily. He’d just have to sit tight and await her response.

He tried to think of other things, but was unsuccessful. Lighting a cigarette, he continued to torture himself with thoughts of what Willow might do.

As he watched smoke waft around him and sulked, he thought she might just pack up her beautiful new clothes and waltz out the front door with her newfound confidence and call out, “Adios Motherfucker,” over her elegant shoulder. Okay, he conceded, odds were that Willow wouldn’t say motherfucker. But still. It could happen. And who the hell could blame her? Sure, he was a great lay and devilishly handsome, but he was also, in her probable present estimation, an evil asshole vampire with an irrationally violent temper.

Cringing, he took a deep drag from his cigarette and decided he’d dwell on his positive attributes. Admitting the negative ones just made him panic and consider that she’d possibly be better off without him. “Too late,” he said out loud, he was already infected with the negative thoughts.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” He yelled to the empty room. A defeatist attitude wasn’t like him and he wasn’t enjoying it at all. Sometimes, since Willow had become such an integral part of his existence, he didn’t even recognize himself anymore. Clamping his cigarette between his teeth, he tore off his shirt and threw it across the room. Throwing something had felt calming, so he threw the cigarette into the empty fireplace grate. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees, clasped his hands, and examined his toes. That made him smile. Willow loved his feet. In fact, one of her favorite things was when he was dressed like he was now…just pants with no shirt and no shoes. She thought it was very sexy. In fact, she thought he was just sexy period. Pondering how much she craved his body cheered him significantly.

This is bullshit, he thought. His plan to wait for Willow to come to him with her decision wasn’t working for him. He was a powerful vampire of action, not some impotent moper, for chrissake.

He stood, squared his shoulders, and headed to Willow’s former room with resolve and determination.

Letting her think things over alone was foolish and an unnecessary risk. He’d utilize his assets and influence her thought process. What the hell good were charm and good looks if one didn’t use them to get what they wanted?

When he reached her door, he took a moment to organize his thoughts. Deciding not to knock, he opened the door and strolled in. Willow was standing with her back to the window, deep in thought, pinching her lower lip between two prettily manicured fingers.

She looked at him in surprise, and not, he was pleased to note, in fear. There was virtually no sign of her earlier injuries and she looked especially lovely. His blood appeared to have done more than just help her heal. Interesting. She had a…glow about her. And not just from her white satin robe and long shiny hair. They studied each other and he was pretty sure she was enjoying the view as much as he was. Yep, he thought smugly, no shirt and shoes affected her.

Slowly, he approached her and smiled. “You look very pretty standing there, sweetheart.”

She harrumphed and said, “Don’t you mean you like watching me standing here admiring you?”

“That too,” he replied with a smirk, exuding more confidence than he actually felt at the moment.

That made her smile. A very good sign, he thought with relief. He knew it was important that this conversation got off on the right foot. Now was no time for a misstep, he’d already mucked things up enough for one day. “Willow, I just want to say...”

She shook her head and cut him off, “No. Me first.” Motioning him toward the sofa, she went to sit in a chair across from it.

He compliantly sat where she’d indicated, impressed with her air of authority. She’d bounced back quickly from her earlier ordeal, and though he felt a bit of trepidation about what she’d have to say, he also felt pride. This woman was nobody’s victim anymore. Not even his.

Willow settled in and looked at him enigmatically for what felt like a long time. Finally, she sighed and spoke, “Angelus, it’s hard to even know where to start.” She gazed around the room, as if it would give her direction and inspiration. When her eyes reached him again, she smiled softly, “I’ve been thinking a lot since you left. There’s so much to say. I’ll just start at the beginning so maybe I’ll sound less scattered.” She snorted and rolled her eyes, “Okay, so that’s unlikely.”

Angelus smiled at that and looked at her encouragingly. The levity had relaxed her somewhat, now maybe she could speak her mind more easily. He wanted her comfortable. After her accusation earlier that he’d treated her as if she didn’t deserve respect, he wanted to make certain that he conveyed that she did. Absolutely did.

Willow nodded, more to herself, than to him, and began, “Okay. The beginning. Right.” Unconsciously, she squared her shoulders, then continued, “When you said I could leave, it scared me. Suddenly things seemed so much more complicated. Life was simpler when I didn’t have to make choices. Living the life you dictated took away any responsibility I had in my own destiny. When you put it back in my lap…I had to start thinking about how *I* felt and what *I* wanted.”

She took a deep breath before continuing. “I realized that since I’ve been here…somewhere along the line, I stopped being the girl I was…and, and started becoming the woman I’m going to be. I’ve changed. A lot. Because of you. I realized I’m now someone I like and respect, and I owe it to you. I was right, earlier today, when I said that you had treated me like a possession that didn’t have feelings or deserve respect. But, I also realized afterward, that, way more importantly, you’d taught me to respect my feelings *myself*. And that that’s what really counts. Yes, you were a big jerk today.” She gave him a harsh glare. “Really. Big. Jerk. But…but, also, because of you, I’ve learned that I have a right to decide who treats me how…and, and, what I do about it is up to me.” Willow stopped short and looked at him inquiringly, “Am I making sense?”

Angelus nodded slowly. He did understand, and to a certain degree, liked what he’d heard. But…he wasn’t sure if this thought process of hers was in his favor or not. With patience and understanding he didn’t completely feel, he said quietly, “I do understand, sweetheart. Please, go on.”

Willow was visibly relieved that she had made herself clear. Smoothing her robe over her lap, she chose her next words carefully. “So, here I was, all of a sudden realizing I was a grown-up and had to make up my own mind. First off, I knew I didn’t want to go. The thought of leaving you and going back to my old life, living without you, made me want to…to throw up.”

Angelus hadn’t realized how tense he’d become until she’d said that. For the first time since he’d sat down, he relaxed.

“I can’t explain it, Angelus, to myself, much less to you, but you’re a part of me now. I can’t leave. It would be like…like amputating a part of myself.” She flopped back in her chair. “I also can’t let you treat me like crap. Up until today, we lived in a happy little bubble, pretty much. Now that harsh reality has come into play, we have to start dealing with what ‘real life’ means for us as a couple.” She paused and looked at him. Her expression pleaded for understanding and a sign that he was *really* hearing her.

He was so pleased that she intended to stay, he’d say or do just about anything right now to give her peace of mind.

Evidently, what she saw on his face told her what she wanted to hear, because she continued before he could reply. “I’m not looking for hearts and flowers every minute of every day. But trust and respect aren’t too much to ask for. I’ve earned them.”

“You have, Willow. Absolutely. Today went terribly wrong and if I could take back my actions, I would.” He looked at her earnestly, “Believe me. Given another go, I’d handle things very differently.”

“I know,” she said quietly and smiled.

Those words were music to his ears. He was surprised at how much it meant to him that she knew and believed he was being sincere. Leaning towards her, he said, “Instead of more apologies, I’ll show you that I trust and respect you. Ways are hard to change, but you are different from anyone…that I’ve been involved with, and my behavior in the future will reflect that.”

Willow looked confused and he sighed. He tried to clarify, “What I’m trying to say is, you’re a whole new ballgame for me. I have zero experience with a respectable woman. My conduct has been colored by past experience and some…unfortunate character traits.” He smiled self-deprecatingly. “*You* are the woman in my life. I promise to try my damnedest to…judge situations by the woman I know you to be…” he paused, searching for the right words… “and not by what unjustified suspicions tell me.” He let out a frustrated sigh.

Willow put her hand up to stop him and grinned, “I get it Angelus. It’s kind of fun not being the one having a hard time articulating their thoughts for once.”

Willow surprised him by getting up and settling herself on his lap. With her hands on his shoulders, she kissed his nose. “I promise something, too. I’ll remember that you have a suspicious mind and try to avoid situations that you might misread. Okay?”

He couldn’t believe it: Willow was staying; fences were mended. It had been so easy. “Okay.” Hugging her to his chest, he said, “I’ve gotta say, I thought I was in deep shit.”

Willow giggled. “Don’t for a second think I wasn’t onto you, though.”

He was busy with self-congratulation and the idea that sex was forthcoming, and had no idea what she was talking about. “Huh?”

She leaned back so she could see his face and rolled her eyes. “You came in here in just your pants on purpose. To manipulate my hormones.”

He looked indignant, “I most certainly did not.”

She snickered. “You’re totally ‘Mr. Premeditation’, and don’t think I don’t have your number.”

Reluctantly, he gave in and smirked in acknowledgement. “Did it work?”

She waggled her eyebrows, “It didn’t hurt.”

He threw his head back and laughed. She was such a piece of work. He was getting used to expecting the unexpected with her.

Willow slid off of his lap and dropped her bombshell. “There was one other thing I wanted to tell you; I’m going to Sunnydale for a visit.”

Angelus’ laughter stopped abruptly.

End Part 23