Part 29

She was as lovely and vivacious as ever, Angelus noted. And early. It was a damned good thing he hadn’t waited any longer than he had to bring Willow up to speed, he thought with relief. Considering his darling girl’s insecurities, being greeted in her own home so effusively by an exceedingly beautiful female stranger might have been…off-putting. First impressions were important and it would have been unfortunate if Willow had felt threatened initially. It was obvious that Genevieve felt very at home here.

Willow, who was still in Angelus’ arms, was speechless and agog. He got her attention by placing a soft kiss on her forehead and gently putting her down. She stood stiffly mute, but gave Genevieve a small smile.

“Willow, this is my old friend Genevieve. Genevieve,” Angelus said, smiling proudly, “this is my darling Willow.”

Ignoring Willow’s shy reticence, Genevieve glided over to her and clasped both of her hands, “My dear, I’m so delighted to meet you! The moment I entered your gracious home I knew why Angelus had summoned me. The very walls and air are alive with the special nature of the relationship that you two share. I had all but given up hope of ever again witnessing a union such as the one my beloved Nicholai and I had.” Fighting back tears of joy, her voice caught and she kissed both cheeks of the still stunned and speechless Willow. “I must confess, my curiosity got the better of me and I’ve been giving your excellent staff the third degree about you.” She whispered in a confidential tone with an infectious grin, “They are admirably discreet, but it’s clear that they adore you.” Genevieve cupped Willow’s cheek, “You are lovely. I look forward to getting to know you.”

Suddenly, she gasped, “Forgive my appallingly bad manners! You’ve just come home and here I am, a perfect stranger, rushing up to you and coming on like a freight train. What must you think of me prattling on so? Please, forgive me,” she said sheepishly.

Willow smiled shyly, unable to resist Genevieve’s affability and captivating charm. “Please, don’t apologize. I’m the rude one. You’re very kind, and so beautiful…I-I’m just kinda overwhelmed. Angelus just told me about you for the first time tonight…”

“Really?” Genevieve responded wryly, raising an accusing eyebrow at Angelus, who looked uncharacteristically, but appropriately, abashed.

“And, and,” Willow continued, “I was so fascinated by everything he told me about you—and here you are…in the flesh. And not, you know, just a romantic fairytale. I’m really honored to meet you. I want to be polite, and welcome you properly, and not stare like a star-struck idiot, and ask you a million questions, all at the same time. You’re—it’s, um, like meeting a celebrity or something. But, you’re so nice and approachable…” Willow stopped short and blushed profusely. “I’m babbling. I babble. Sorry. I’m nervous.”

Genevieve beamed, radiating warmth, “Thank you, Willow, for your kind and flattering words. Please don’t feel self-conscious about how you expressed yourself. It’s always refreshing to meet someone genuine who says what’s on their mind without contrivance or pretension. You are perfect. And enchanting. We’re going to be great friends—I can tell already. Angelus is a lucky devil, chére, to have such a delightful creature to spend eternity with.”

Willow smiled happily, still blushing, but clearly in awe of the new arrival.

Angelus had been contentedly watching in silence, very pleased with how taken Willow and Genevieve were with each other. Their first meeting was a great success. He hated to interrupt their little ‘mutual admiration fest’, but, “It’s wonderful to see you again, Genevieve. Thank you for coming so quickly. We’re grateful.”

Genevieve smiled broadly and gave him a friendly hug. “You’re most welcome. Naturally, I’m over the moon about the circumstances. You can’t even imagine how much.” She pulled back with a serious expression. “I had thought I’d never see you again. I hadn’t heard about your soul’s departure. I’m sure there’s an interesting story there.” She placed kisses on both of his cheeks. “But I’m happy to see you. Welcome back…from wherever you were while your soul was in residence.”

Angelus smiled rakishly, “Thank you. It’s great to *be* back. Now then,” he took Willow’s hand in his and placed his other hand on the small of Genevieve’s back, guiding them out of the foyer, “let’s adjourn to the parlor. We can make ourselves comfortable and address everyone’s questions.” Once he’d seated the ladies, he rang James and requested refreshments.

Willow and Genevieve were blithely chattering away as if they had been the best of friends for years, so Angelus stretched out in a chair unobtrusively, observing silently, and enjoyed the feminine energy they were generating. It was a relief to finally have Genevieve here to answer questions, but he did regret that Willow hadn’t had a little more time to adjust to everything he’d told her earlier tonight. They were getting along so famously that it probably wasn’t even going to be an issue. In fact, he thought, Genevieve had so quickly and thoroughly put Willow at ease that it might work in his favor by making Willow more receptive. With the charismatic Genevieve as ‘Exhibit A’, the possibility of immortality might be less daunting to his darling girl. Surely, by being such an exceptional example, Genevieve would put a friendly face and form on what had previously just been a somewhat frightening and surreal prospect.

Angelus was perfectly content to continue watching their animated conversation for the moment. It was very diverting. They were like two peas in a pod. When James arrived with the refreshments, the two men exchanged amused glances at the ladies’ mutual exuberance.

Willow and Genevieve ‘oohed’ and ‘ahhed’ at the treats, thanking James profusely. Angelus smirked when the normally reserved and contained man grinned at them besottedly before taking his leave. He certainly couldn’t blame him: they were a lively and enchanting combination.

There were advantages to having Genevieve here that hadn’t even occurred to him previously. Willow had apparently been starved for female companionship. Now that that need was met, maybe she would forget about her desire to visit Sunnydale—at least for a while. Also, as he listened to them, Willow’s self-esteem was getting a shot in the arm. Genevieve was showering her with compliments on her ‘perfectly flawless complexion’, ‘absolutely divine red hair’, ‘marvelously lithe and graceful figure’—she raved on and on and it pleased him to no end. Willow had now met, and become fast friends with, the Anti-Cordelia. Who knew there was an antidote to that vile and toxic cheerleader? he wondered with satisfaction.

Since one of the first things out of Genevieve’s mouth had been confirmation that he and Willow did indeed share the bond that he had suspected, it wasn’t hard for him to relax and remain patient. Besides, surely the frenzy they’d hypered each other into would die down soon. After all, Genevieve had just traveled across the world in record time and Willow had had a long evening of acquiring life altering information, topped off by vigorous fucking in the garage. Exhaustion couldn’t be far off for either of them. He’d just wait them out.

Naturally, Genevieve hadn’t changed a bit, he noted as he took a closer look at her. Younger perhaps, but that was just because of her mode of dress. She had previously appeared to be in her early to mid twenties, but now she looked approximately Willow’s age. Actually, Willow’s glamorous gown and jewels made her presently look to be the older of the two. Genevieve’s slender, but shapely, body looked very girlish in faded jeans, a white tank top emblazoned with a colorful, embroidered butterfly, and bare feet. He had to smile at that—two more things the pair apparently had in common. An avoidance of footwear, and clothing decorated with whimsical images. Three actually, since their mutual passion for food was obvious.

As Angelus continued to study Genevieve, he realized what a striking contrast she and Willow made sitting there side by side. They complemented each other perfectly and would definitely turn heads anywhere they went together. Genevieve had clear olive skin, large brown eyes, a long, slim, elegant nose, and thick, lustrous dark brown hair that fell to her waist. She wore little make-up, which suited her. Neither overshadowed the other; Willow’s delicate alabaster exquisiteness and titian hair were only enhanced by Genevieve’s dramatic Gallic beauty. They both exuded an effervescence that intensified their outward loveliness. In both cases, it sprang from their openness and was very similar, but Willow’s was fueled by her sweet, generous spirit, and Genevieve’s by a…certain dynamism.

Fortunately—and oddly, he mused--while he’d always thought Genevieve beautiful, he’d never been attracted to her sexually. Otherwise he’d surely be sitting here fantasizing about a ménage a trois as he studied them—which would be very inconvenient. Yes indeed, not having to restrain oneself from a taboo lust was good, he thought with noble satisfaction.

Angelus didn’t get to revel in smug self-righteousness for long. Well, fucking shit, he thought with distress and irritation as he recalled something that could…pose a problem. While he felt no desire towards Genevieve, *technically* he had known her intimately.

In the past century she and the soul had crossed paths a couple of times. While they had not felt mad passion for one another, mutual needs and shared feelings of loneliness and disconnectedness had brought them together. They had found comfort in familiarity, which had been a welcomed respite from the overwhelming sadness both lived with daily. In those days, Genevieve was still deeply mourning Nicholai, and ‘Angel’—pathetic bastard—existed in a perpetual quagmire of misery and remorse.

Both times they had met up, they had spent hours and hours talking, empathizing and sympathizing about their respective plights. Angelus shook his head in disgust as he remembered the maudlin pity parties. The worst of it was, all of that had led them to fall into each others’ arms, and ultimately, beds.

Ugh. ‘Melancholy fucking’ would be difficult for him to fathom if he hadn’t been there—in a manner of speaking. If that wasn’t a waste of a hard prick and willing female, he thought with a sneer, he didn’t know what was.

So, while their bodies had come together and they had felt a friendly affection for one another, the sole purpose of the acts had been to help assuage the feelings of sorrow and isolation they had had in common.

Would he, Angelus, now get bitten in the ass because the loathsome soul had needed a sexual band-aid for his emotional boo-boos? Surely not. Genevieve clearly recognized him as separate from the soul straightaway. She had no trouble whatsoever making the distinction immediately.

He felt calmer now that he’d considered that. It was unlikely that she would see any reason to rat him out and inform Willow of those interludes since they hadn’t actually been with *him*. Furthermore, she was so pleased to finally encounter a couple who shared the bond that she and Nicholai had had that she would go out of her way not to do anything that might cause dissension in the relationship. He supposed there was an outside chance that she would tattle out of some…‘female rules of disclosure’. Women, in his experience, did have that tendency. Well, in any case, he wasn’t going to make like Angel and brood about it. It was also encouraging to remember that Willow had no issues with the fact that the soul had fucked Buffy—so it followed that she wouldn’t get her panties in a bunch over things that had transpired with him decades ago. Right?

His speculation was suddenly cut short by a distinct canine scent tinged with cinnamon that suddenly filled the air. As he looked around for the source, something bumped his outstretched leg. Leaning forward, he saw a small fluffy dog alternately head-butting him and doing a tail-wagging little wiggling dance. Chuckling, he thought he shouldn’t be surprised: Genevieve was a dog lover. Big brown eyes looked up at him flirtatiously from a compressed face. With wiles like that, the tiny ball of fur *had* to be female, he concluded. Apparently considering his lack of resistance as an invitation, the forward mini-beast used his legs as a bridge and installed herself on his lap, where after some nuzzling, she nestled down contentedly. And hummed. He reluctantly scratched behind the brazen little hussy’s ears and she hummed louder. She almost sounded like a cat purring. Bizarre. “You must be Violetta’s successor, wee one.”

“Yes, she is,” Genevieve said with amusement. “Well, one of them. Darling Violetta is long gone.”

Angelus looked up and saw that the ladies had finally been distracted from their gab session and were watching him with silly grins on their faces. He glared at them indignantly. Pointing accusingly at the red and white bundle, now snoring blissfully on his lap, he said, “This is *not* my doing. The brassy little strumpet climbed up here and made herself at home without invitation or encouragement.”

He tapped the dog’s plump flank with a finger and told her sternly, “I can see that you’re accustomed to manipulating people with your dubious charms. Well, that flat face of yours must impair your sense of smell, because *I’m* not ‘people’.”

Roused from her nap, the little dog looked up at him drowsily and blinked, not remotely concerned about being woken up or lectured. Once she saw that he was finished speaking, she waved her flowing tail once and settled back down to resume her siesta.

He harrumphed, but left her in peace.

Genevieve giggled. “Angelus, Willow, I’m pleased to introduce you to Amerie. She’s a shih-tzu—and the light of my life. Angelus, don’t be offended that she’s unafraid of your ‘superior predator’ status. As my pet, she’s been exposed to vampires since infancy, and has only had positive experiences with them. Besides, she has an uncommonly sunny disposition—nothing ever seems to perturb, much less frighten, her.” Genevieve glanced at each of her hosts hopefully, “She’s a very good girl and won’t be any trouble. I hope her presence won’t present a problem.”

Willow reached forward and patted Genevieve’s hand. “Of course not! She’s adorable. I’ll love having her here. I’ve always wanted a puppy and it’ll be so fun to have one running around the house.”

Angelus really didn’t mind, he just hated looking like a pussy with a frou-frou little dog presumptuously curled up on him as if he were there for her convenience and comfort. He smiled reassuringly at Genevieve, “Don’t worry. I know how much your canine companions mean to you. You are our honored guest, and so is your beloved pet.” Actually, he respected the little imp’s audacity. He found the usual canine trait of sycophantic submissiveness annoying and undignified.

Genevieve smiled at him beatifically. “Thank you. Shall I remove her from your lap?”

He shook his head. “No. She’s fine.” He frowned at the conspiratorial looks of amusement Genevieve and Willow exchanged. “I’m just thinking that we have a lot to discuss and there’s no reason to further disturb Amerie,” he said a tad defensively.

Willow pursed her lips and nodded sagely, “Absolutely. Let sleeping dogs lie.”

Genevieve clapped her hands once and smiled at both of them. “Good, good. Now that that’s settled, let’s get down to business.” She took a sip of her beverage, gathering her thoughts. “I’m thrilled to be here for this momentous event and will happily stay for as long as it takes to inform and aid as you two adjust.”

She smiled at Willow reassuringly and then looked at Angelus with interest. “Your lovely mate has given me a condensed version of recent events. I must say I’ve learned some intriguing, rather fantastical things. I understand that for simplification purposes your souled counterpart is referred to as Angel—and I will adhere to that.”

Genevieve shook her head in disbelief, “Angelus, I must say that it was astonishing to discover that not only is Willow the current slayer’s best friend, but that Angel was in love with her. How…Shakespearean is that?!” she asked rhetorically. “And then for this Buffy to have been the unwitting catalyst for your reemergence! Mon Dieu!” She threw her arms up dramatically, “It boggles the mind. I have many questions—to say the very least. Right now, though, my prime objective is to address *your* immediate curiosity and concerns.

“Oh!” She winked at Angelus, “And you’ll be amused and interested to hear that Willow was positively delighted to learn that my immortality hasn’t precluded food. The fact that I eat and enjoy it so much was welcome news to her.”

Angelus raised an eyebrow and roared with laughter, causing Amerie’s ears to perk up. “Only Willow would consider that priority information at a time like this.”

Willow gave him an affronted glance and turned to Genevieve. “Well! Food is good. *Really* good. It would be—you know—a big shame to live forever and be deprived of it.”

Genevieve nodded enthusiastically, “I couldn’t agree more, chére. Rest assured that as one of life’s great pleasures, food, and your enjoyment of it, will continue.” Her expression became quizzical as she glanced back and forth between Willow and Angelus. “I’m confused about how the food issue hasn’t become a foregone conclusion by now.”

Willow smiled and said, “You’d think I would’ve asked as soon as Angelus told me that becoming immortal was possibly an option! Honestly, I was pretty stunned and overwhelmed by having so much dropped on me at once and hadn’t thought of that yet.”

Angelus nodded and interjected, “Willow is a bit uncomfortable with the idea of becoming immortal. She’s still struggling with absorbing all she’s been told tonight. I confess, I’m completely ignorant of what the transformation entails. Frankly, I never paid any attention whenever the topic arose—it just wasn’t relevant to me. Maybe if you explain to us what ceremony or ritual is involved, and what the time frame is, it will ease her mind. She’s years from full maturity, so time isn’t of the essence and she can leisurely examine the facts and make her decision.” He grinned roguishly, “Not that I don’t intend to actively influence her verdict between now and then.”

Genevieve rose from her chair and slowly paced in front of them, pinching her bottom lip between her fingers, deep in thought. Finally, she nodded to herself and stood in a spot where she could see both of them at once. Her expression was grave and she began to speak hesitantly in an apologetic tone. “This is an unfortunate…misunderstanding.” She paused to take a deep breath, “Fate has spoken; your alliance is sealed. Choice doesn’t enter into this.” She looked at Willow compassionately, “My dear, you already *are* immortal.”

End Part 29