Willow and Angel belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy.


Changes
by Beth M.

Part 1

"Oh…"

"Like that, do you?"

"Oh, God, yeah… that's it… right there… oh… Angel… harder…"

"You're making me harder, Tink…"

"Shush!  Don't start that.  I'm trying to work here, you know?  For you?  Boss man?  Tall, dark, handsome vampire-man that owns the company?"

Angel grabbed the office chair that Willow was sitting in while he massaged her shoulders, spinning it around so that she faced him,  "Willow, it's my first night in Chicago with you, and I really don't want to spend it sitting
in your office watching your fingers dance across that keyboard instead of dancing across me,"  he said, kneeling on the floor in front of her, a twinkle in his eye.

"I just have a few things to finish up, and then I'm all yours,"  she leaned forward planting a kiss on his lips,  "Please?  Just a little while longer?"  she stuck her bottom lip out in what Angel had dubbed her new resolve face, a combination of her old resolve face and a pout.

"That's not playing fair,"  he mumbled, capturing her bottom lip gently between his teeth,  "I can't say no to you when you do that and you know it.  Not fair."

Willow briefly deepened the kiss, pressing her tongue quickly into his mouth before pulling away,  "I love you,"  she informed him, spinning back around in her chair to face her monitor, a triumphant grin on her face.

Angel sighed and went to sit on the corner of the conference table sitting in the center of her office.  Watching Willow work at her computer, he thought back over the past two years, the glorious two years since Willow came back into his life.  Stumbling over that flowerpot had been the best thing that had ever happened to him.  Staying away from her for a year had been the stupidest thing he'd ever done.  But they were making things right now, or
trying to.

Living on opposite sides of the country was hell on earth for both of them.  Angel had convinced Willow not to move to Los Angeles until he had a chance to rid the city of a new master vampire that had settled in town, and she reluctantly agreed.

Instead, they had compromised and settled on monthly visits.  Angel, as a result of Willow's resolve face, had bought a small plane for the company's use, and either Willow would fly to Los Angeles for a long weekend, or Angel would travel to Chicago, not a small feat for Willow to accomplish considering Angel's fear of being trapped on a airplane during the day.

The trips were too short, breathless, and wonderful.  They spent the better part of their days and nights in bed together, quivering masses of sweaty flesh and limbs tangled in passion tempered by the tears that invariably came whenever the time came for one of them to leave.  Willow tried to be strong and tried to hold back the tears, but they came nevertheless.

She was still a young woman, only a year out of college.  Her twenty-fourth birthday was approaching and every time she looked in the mirror, she saw a woman that was growing older every day, while her boyfriend never aged.  Angel wouldn't want her in a few years, she knew.  It would become too awkward for both of them, and the one thing that could keep this from happening, changing her, Angel refused to do.

Willow knew it was stupid for her to want to be a vampire, but she loved Angel desperately.  Although Angel assured her that they had many years to be happy together, Willow knew better.  Her estimation was ten years, at the very most.  She couldn't imagine, wouldn't even allow herself to think about, letting Angel watch her grow old and die.

The thought scared the hell out of her.  Every once in a while, she would get a glimpse in her mind, a picture of what it would be like for her to be eighty years old with Angel taking care of her, seeing the pity and pain in
his eyes while he watched her wither away.  She couldn't face that possibility.  And she also couldn't face the possibility of their break up a few years down the road.

Would she be the one to do it, or would Angel?  No, she knew Angel better than that.  His heart was too big, as was his love and devotion to her.  He would stay by her side no matter what, trying valiantly to convince her that
her aging and her looks didn't matter to him, that he loved her all the same, and still felt as passionately about her.

But that was impossible.  How could he ever be attracted to an old woman?  He would still love her, but would he still not be able to keep his hands off of her?  She knew that passion such as that didn't last anyway.  The
psychologists that she had studied in college all claimed that it lasted no longer than six months to two years.

Even knowing that, Willow couldn't accept the thought of letting Angel watch her age.  And Angel, being the sensible one of the two, refused to even entertain the thought of turning her into the monster that he was.  He knew that she'd be different.  Willow was a dreamer, a beautiful, tender, thoughtful dreamer.  She had no idea how hard it was to do battle with the demon inside you every minute of every day.  True, the demon could never
fully gain control of him again.  Tinkerbell had taken care of that little problem.

But the demon was still there, he hadn't be banished.  He hovered beneath the surface, longing for a taste of what Angel had.  He humored him sometimes, let him show himself a tiny bit.  Now that Angel knew his soul was permanent, he could do things like that, knowing that he would be able to rein the control back into his hands when necessary.  Angel had developed a sense of humor, allowing his biting wit, and sometimes sarcasm, to come out more often.  This was his demon.  Angel's intelligence grew every day that he lived.  Over his two hundred and fifty years, he learned volumes, and his demon loved to show off that side of him, to taunt people with it.  Xander was a fun target, although now that he accepted Angel as Willow's other half, Angel backed off, both because despite their best efforts, they were becoming friends, and because Xander had grown up to be quite a man, and Angel respected him.

The demon also begged for playing time during sex, which had caused several rather heated battles between himself and Willow after some of their more passionate encounters.  Willow felt like he was holding back from her, and Angel was terrified that he would hurt her.  Willow understood his fear, but also understood that Angel could never hurt her.  She knew that if she ever told Angel to stop anything that he was doing, no matter how much the demon might think he was in control, Angel could immediately stop it.  But Angel would never allow it to get to that point, never allow himself even the smallest pleasure that he knew he would get from a tiny taste of her
blood, or even from the smallest bit of rough sex that he knew the demon, and, to a certain extent, Willow, wanted.

They had teased each other about it a little as the couple grew more familiar with each other.  It started with Willow teasing him about a spanking, and then Angel had allowed things to get too carried away in Las Vegas.  His dark, dominant nature had come forth, and Willow had played along with it every step of the way.  After he had time to think about it, he was shocked that Willow had been so accepting of what he did to her that night, and had also seemed to love it.

They had never really talked about it, the orders that he had given her, the way she had opened herself up to him, and they had never approached sex that same way again after that.

But, he wanted to, and he knew that she wanted to.  The first time Willow traveled to Los Angeles, she bit him during sex.  Not a big bite, but small nibbles along his neck.  He had been too far-gone to stop her, too close to
his orgasm and she pushed him right over the edge.  He had chastised her about it afterwards, and she played it off.

Several times since then, she had tried again but he wouldn't allow it, and that's usually when the fighting started.  She would give in to him, and they would both reach their climaxes, and then Willow would start in on him,
feeling insecure that Angel must be finding that release elsewhere.  No matter what he did or said, he couldn't convince her that he didn't need that, that his orgasms were powerful enough without the rough sex.  Willow
would try to convince him that if he'd change her, he could do whatever he wanted with her, and Angel would argue that he could, and would, never change her, that he loved her exactly how she was, and that he was a completely sexually-satisfied vampire.  Willow would pout, Angel would coo and coddle and whisper words of love in her ears, and she'd relent and they'd end up making love again, usually tender and sweet and slow, and all would be forgotten, at least, temporarily.

But it was still something that hung over their heads, another obstacle in their impossible relationship, a relationship that was doomed to end with someone being broken-hearted beyond repair.

Part 2

"Angel?"

"Hmmm?"  he answered, his thoughts being broken by Willow's voice.

"I'm done… we can go now."

Willow walked over to where Angel was perched on the table and he wrapped his arms around her waste, pulling her closer.

"Mmm… don't think I can wait,"  he grinned at her,  "Ever done it on this table?"

Willow opened her mouth to speak, but Angel shushed her,  "Nevermind… if you have, I don't want to know about it."

"I haven't,"  she answered, bringing her hands to rest on his shoulders,  "but there's a first time for everything, I suppose…"

Trailing the fingers of her left hand down his chest, her hand came to rest on the bulge in his pants, massaging him.  She felt him growing harder beneath her fingers as she fumbled with his belt buckle and zipper before
releasing his enormous erection.

Taking him in her hands, she dropped to her knees on the floor in front of him, taking him in her mouth.  Over the past several months, her techniques had greatly improved under Angel's tutelage.   His hands gripped the edge of the table as Willow sank her mouth around him, sucking hard before moving back to the head of his cock, making sweeping circles with her tongue around the tip, worrying the little slit on the end with damning slowness.  Her
hands caressed his balls, kneading them between her nimble fingers as she brought him closer to climax with her talented mouth.   Angel gripped the back of her head with his hands, readying himself for his release, but Willow
pulled back suddenly.

Looking up into his confused eyes, she wrapped her hand around him, pumping him vigorously.   Willow could tell how close he was as his eyes suddenly clenched shut and his hips thrust up off the table.  She swept her tongue across the tip of his cock one last time before moving her mouth to his inner thigh, her cheek close enough to brush against his shaft.

Not pausing to think, she continued to pump him as she sank her teeth into the tender skin just below the juncture of his thighs, biting him hard.

"WILLOW!"  he screamed, tangling his hands in her hair to pull her away as he climaxed uncontrollably.  His cold fluid splashed against her cheek as she quickly turned her head to capture him in her mouth again.

His body betrayed him as he tried to get away from her, anger pouring off him in waves, yet unable to stop himself from thrusting down her eager throat as she drained him.

Sitting back on her heels, she looked up to the table at Angel.  His head thrown back, he grasped tightly to the edge of the table, white-knuckled.  After a couple of moments, he calmed slightly, enough to reach between his
own body to feel the area that she had bitten.

Pulling his hand away, he held it up for his inspection, seeing the blood on his fingers.  His dark, angry eyes met hers.

"Is this what you want, Willow?"  he asked waving his hand in her face,  "Is this really the way you want things to be between us?"

"Angel, I…"

"Shut up, Willow.  I can give you want you want.  You've pressed this issue for months…  You want it rough?  I hope you're ready for what that means, little girl, because I don't think you've quite considered the ramifications
of what's about to happen.  But then you've made it quite clear that you don't care, do you?"

Willow had never seen him so angry.  His normally soft eyes were harsh and darker than she had ever seen them, almost black.  The muscles in his jaws were twitching just beneath the surface, and she knew he was struggling not to slip into his game face.

"Angel…"

"Too late for words, Willow."

He jumped off the table and grabbed her by the back of the head, pulling her to her feet, crushing his lips against hers.  She struggled only briefly before returning the kiss with equal passion, both determined to play out
this game, both wanting to see how far the other would take it.

He pushed her away, seeing the glazed look on her face, her lips swollen from the intensity of the kiss.  He had tasted his own blood in her mouth and the result was his increased anger and arousal.  He reached out, grabbing the collar of her shirt in his hands and ripped it open.  She shrugged out of it as he grabbed her skirt, ripping that off, too.  The force of his efforts caused her to stumble into him and she tried to wrap her arms around him, but
he stopped her, roughly pushing her back again.

"No, Willow… this is no time for tenderness.  You made that perfectly clear."

Angel couldn't control what was happening.  He tried to stop, but the anger consumed him, anger at Willow and anger at himself for the intense arousal that he was experiencing.  This was what he had been afraid of, why he
wouldn't allow the biting or the rough sex that Willow had been pushing for.  He had been holding back with her, but not in the way that she thought.  He loved her and their moments of passion were beautiful and exhausting.  When he told her that he didn't need bloodshed to reach his climax, he meant it.  His love for Willow was all-consuming enough.

But now she had taken it too far, and he couldn't stop.  A tiny part of his mind told him not to do this, knowing that it was too dangerous, but the demon squelched that voice and took over the control.  Angel felt as if he
was helpless to prevent what was happening, and, as angry and frightened as he was, he wondered if he really wanted to stop it.  His erection had returned as soon as Willow had finished her task, and it was almost painful.
Whatever was happening, whatever was going to happen, he had lost control of the part of himself that made love to Willow.

He urgently removed the rest of her clothing and spun her around to face the table.

"Bend over, Willow,"  he said, barely containing his voice through clenched teeth.

"Angel…"  she whispered, realizing that the game was out of control.

"Bend over, Willow,"  he repeated, harshly emphasizing each word.

Complying with his demand, she leaned across the table, resting her head on her arms, trembling.

Angel removed his own clothing and moved to stand behind Willow.  Raising his hand, he brought it down on her bare cheeks.

She leapt as he made the contact, trying to move from his wrath, but he was faster, holding her securely down on the table with one hand pressed into the small of her back.

Again and again, he rained blows down on her backside, and with each blow, his cock surged.  Tears were sliding down her face, yet Angel could sense her arousal.  He stopped with the spanking and reached between her legs, quickly plunging three fingers into her weeping sex.

"Is this what you want, Willow?  Is it really?"  he bent down to whisper in her ear,  "Even if it's not, it's a little too late now, isn't it?  You wanted to play this game, so let's play."

He removed his fingers from her core and rubbed his wet hand over her reddened cheeks.

"Angel…" she moaned beneath him.

He ignored her as he spread her cheeks open with his other hand and wormed a finger into her tight hole.

"Angel…"  she hissed.

"This is what you wanted, Willow, right?"  he wiggled the finger inside of her,  "You wanted it rough…"

Pulling his finger from her, he quickly forced it back inside, this time adding another finger.  He maneuvered his fingers inside of her, stretching her before adding a third finger.

"Does it hurt, Willow?"

She could do nothing but moan.

"Because, Willow, you did this."

He removed his hand and positioned himself behind her, grabbing his hard cock between his hands, pumping himself several times.  Placing the head at the entrance of her tiny puckered opening, he plunged inside, ripping a scream from Willow.

She pounded her fists on the table angrily as he pulled almost all the way out of her body before forcing himself to thrust back inside.  He grabbed her hips tightly and began an angry, hard rhythm.  He pounded her small body so
hard against the table that the sensible part of him almost took the control back, afraid that he was going to crush her hips between his body and the table.  Willow gripped the opposite edge of the table, crying out each time
Angel thrust into her.

It felt nothing like it had in Las Vegas.  Angel had been domineering then, but he had also been tender and loving.  There was no tenderness in what he was doing to her now, and, although she was terrified of him, she couldn't stop the wetness she felt seeping down her legs.

Angel gripped her shoulders and began pulling her back against him with each of his thrusts.  He knew that she'd have his handprints bruised into her shoulders for days to come, but he didn't care.  He dragged his fingers down
her back, leaving long, red welts in their wake, and Willow clenched her muscles tight around his cock.  He reached below her body and angrily pinched her clitoris as he screamed and emptied himself inside her.  Her body spasmed as she joined him, coming in waves as she nearly blacked out from the intensity of their situation.

Angel quickly pulled out of her and began dressing.

"Angel?"  she whimpered.

He met her green eyes, and slowly shook his head,  "I don't want this."

"Angel, please… let's talk about…"  she pleaded.

"No, Willow.  I made my position on this perfectly clear, but you wouldn't respect my wishes,"  he walked towards the door.

"Where are you going?"

"Home.  I can't be around you."

Part 3

Several months later in Los Angeles…

He stood in the shadows watching Angel fight another vampire, admiring his fighting techniques as Angel quickly dusted the young, inexperienced monster.

Angel brushed the dust from his clothes,  "You can come out, Whistler.  I know you're there."

"How?"  Whistler asked, stepping out from the darkness.

"I can smell you,"  Angel snarled with a dangerous smirk,  "What are you doing here?"

"We need to talk, Angel."

"What's up?"  Angel asked as the two started to walk out of the dark alley.

"She's in trouble."

"Who?"  Angel asked.

"Your redhead.  The little witch."

"What?  What do you mean she's in trouble?"  Angel spun, grabbing Whistler and pinning him against the wall.

Angel hadn't talked to Willow since he left Chicago that night.  Everything had gone horribly wrong.  He should have been in better control, should have been able to prevent what happened from happening, but he didn't… couldn't.  The trip was to have been so special.  Angel had finally defeated the master, and he was gone.  He was going to ask Willow to move to LA with him.  The timing had finally been right for them to be together, but it had been ruined.  Whether it was his fault or Willow's fault, it didn't matter.  It was over now.

"Answer me!  What kind of trouble?"

"Put me down, Angel, and I'll tell you."

Angel dropped the smaller man.

"You've still got some temper, Angel.  You really ought to learn to control that better,"  he chuckled, not noticing the dangerous look that Angel shot him.

"If she's hurt…"

"Calm down, Angel… I said she's in trouble, not hurt."

"What are you talking about?"  Whistler was right, Angel wasn't doing a very good job controlling his anger, but if Willow needed his help, and Whistler was holding back from him, Angel would rip the head off the demon.

"It appears that she's decided to take matters into her own hands."

"Quit being so cryptic."

"Did she ask you to change her?"

"Lots of ti…  She's a vampire?!"  Angel bellowed.

"No, man… not a vampire.  But she wants to be immortal, doesn't she?"

Angel slammed him against the wall again,  "Tell me what the fuck is going on."

"An ascension."

"WHAT?!"

"You're little witch is very powerful, and she's about to become immortal."

"A demon?  Like me?"

"No, Angel… a demon like me.  She has way too much goodness in her soul to be…"

The hurt look in Angel's eyes stopped him in the middle of his sentence.

"I didn't mean it like that, Angel.  I know what you think of yourself.  I know how hard it is for you to separate your demon from what you really are.  I mean that she's about to become a demon like me in the sense that she'll be on our team."

"I've got to stop it… I can't let her do this.  She doesn't know what she's doing."

"She does know, and it's too late."

"Then why are you even here?"  Angel hissed at him,  "If it's too late, why are you here?"

"Because she's going to need you.  It's already started and you can't stop it.  But you can be there for her when she wakes up."

"She won't be my Willow anymore…"

"Quit being so dramatic.  She's still going to be the exact same person and you know it.  And, besides, from what she's told me, she's not been your Willow for a while now, has she?"

"She told you?"

"She loves you more than you deserve, and I don't mean because you're a vampire that's done some very bad things.  I mean because you destroyed her when you walked out.  All she wanted to do was please you, and you walked out on her.  Why?"

"Why?  Because."

"What kind of answer is that?"

Angel grew silent for a moment before answering.

"The only one I have."
 

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