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Shanna
shannalynn9064@yahoo.com
Angel was dreaming, which was unusual in and of itself. Vampires don't usually dream, unless it's to occasionally relive torturing, maiming, raping or draining of a particularly satisfying kill. But this was a vampire's version of a nightmare. He dreamt of running through the woods, hearing voices in his head, screams of damnation surrounded him. The vampire broke through into a clearing and dropped to his knees as the powerful voice of an old woman shattered the night. "Acum! Acum! Acum!!" Then a pain was ripping though his undead body, something was being driven into his mind and body, and his demon hissed and snarled, backing away in anger and with no small amount of fear.
The scene changed suddenly and he was at the old factory, battling Buffy, taunting her. Swords clashed and he began to get the upper hand. Then suddenly he was on his knees when that same pain slammed into his very core, only this time it was a young voice he heard cursing him. Willow's voice as she roared the same words the gypsy had so many years ago. He could see the frail redhead, sitting in a hospital bed, Cordy waving smoking sage as she walked about the room, Oz holding a bowl, both looking at the redhead in confusion as she collapsed back against the bed, pale and trembling.
His dream shifted again, viewing his last encounter with Spike and Willow as if from above, watching the three of them move together with a frenzied passion, almost as if he were a spectator. He could taste her blood flooding his mouth again, feel her warm pounding pulse beneath his lips. Angel felt her fingers sliding along his neck, urging him on, holding him close. He could feel his fingers manipulating her wet core, bringing her to a quivering release. The scent of their arousal and Willow's blood overloading his senses as he watched his body grind itself against the redhead's thigh, felt his orgasm shatter throughout his body once more, then he was floating higher, out of the hotel and rocketing toward the stars.
His dreamscape became bright, full of light and warmth. Angel hadn't felt this warm and comforted since he had been human. He looked around, then up, eyes widening as he felt the warmth of the sun shining down upon him. The vampire had the sudden urge to seek cover before he self-combusted, but he felt no pain. His skin didn't burn, instead he tilted his head back, basking in the warm glowing light.
The voice from behind him startled Angel. "Hey, Boss. How goes it on the lower plane?"
Spinning, he found himself face to face with his former employee. "Doyle?"
Smiling Irish eyes peered back at the vampire. "You were expecting Saint Peter maybe?"
Angel, confused, asked "I'm dead?"
"Nah! Just messin' wi' ya."
"Where are we?"
"Higher plane, like I said."
"Yea, ok." Angel looked around him in awe. "Why am I here? Why didn't I get fried to a crisp?"
"Mortal. . .and immortal restrictions have no place here. As for why you're here, thought you might need a little assistance."
The dark vampire frowned at the half demon, taking in his white pants, shoes, shirt and leather coat. White on white. He cringed. "Well, at least you're dressing a little better up here."
Doyle rolled his eyes. "Not here to help you with fashion tips. I'm here to help you with the redhead."
"Willow? You can tell us how to cure her?"
Doyle snickered at the confused man before him. "No, mate. I'm here to help you with the redhead. . .and your soul. You know? That fickle little thing that only hangs around as long as you're miserable and brooding."
His words brought reality crashing down around Angel's head. "Oh, God, did I lose my soul again? Is that why I'm here? I have to get back and warn them. Angelus will kill them all! You have to send me back Doyle. There has to be a way." He grabbed the man by the lapels of his jacket and shook him, his brown eyes desperate.
"Watch the leather, boss! And no, you haven't lost your soul. The big wigs up here just thought you might want a little heads up, you know, considering you just got extremely cozy with the witch, thought you might be a little confused when you woke up and were still Angel and not Angelus." He gently pried the fingers gripping his coat free and stepped back slightly.
Angel thought about it. He *had* been happy, completely content, after the threesome he, Spike and Willow had engaged in. Well, he didn't know if it could be considered a threesome since none of them even lost one article of clothing, but he had cum and cum hard. When the redhead had wrapped her arm around him and pulled him close after they had all collapsed, he had curled himself around her, burying his face in her neck to lick at the trickle of blood still escaping from the bite. He had actually felt himself purring as he drifted off to sleep.
"What does it mean? Why didn't I lose my soul?"
"She's the one who gave it to ya."
Angel looked at Doyle impatiently. "And? . . ."
"So she's the one who can break the curse, well, not the curse, curse, but the clause that goes along with the curse."
"So, you're saying there's some way for Willow to eliminate the happiness clause? Does she have to do the incantation again without the clause?"
"Nope."
"Is there some sort of ritual we have to do? I've had to feed from her because of the vilnavons' attack. Is there some blood ritual involved?"
"Uh-uh."
"Is there some charm or ring that will prevent me from losing my soul? Does she have to cast a binding spell on it maybe?"
"Strike three, mate. You're out."
"Just spit it out, Doyle!" The vampire rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh of exasperation.
"She has to give you happiness of her own free will, in pure love or friendship."
"Happiness? But we just did. . ."
"Oh, please, boss! Steamy as that little scene might have been, it wasn't about love and friendship. It was about blood and lust. Feisty little spitfire, she is, too." He wiggled his eyebrows at the vampire and nudged him in the ribs with an elbow.
"Show some respect," he growled, pushing the half-demon's elbow away.
"Just messin' wit' ya mate, honest. But do you get the picture yet?"
"You're saying that one way for my soul to become permanent is for Willow and I to. . .," the brunette waved his hands, trying to find the right words, "we have to make love?"
"Not happily ever after love, Angel." Doyle looked at his former boss seriously for the first time. "Just in love, freely given. Whether that love is true and passionate, or the deep and loyal love of friendship, as long as the emotion is there, the little redhead can secure your soul."
The dark vampire stared at his friend in disbelief. "So, what? I'm supposed to just say, 'Hey, Willow. I have it on good authority that if you have sex with me in a purely friendly way, I won't have to worry about losing my soul again.' That sounds like the worst pickup line ever!"
"Yeah, but the little cutie has a soft spot for you, I can tell. Only problem you might run into is that blond. Don't think he'll be likin' it much. Time to head back boss. Oh, and give the Princess my love and tell her I said sorry about the headaches, would ya?"
With those final words, Angel was sent hurtling through space back to earth. He could see the lights of LA as he fell rapidly toward the Hyperion. Suddenly he was back in his body and the vampire began to awaken.
The first thing he noticed were muffled voices and soft sobs. The second thing he noticed was that he couldn't move. Angel tugged, trying to lower his arms from their raised position, but only felt the cold metal of shackles around his wrists. His eyes popped open to take in his surroundings. He still lay in Willow's bed, but he was chained to it now, spread eagle on the mattress.
Lifting his head, he could see four figures standing near the door. Cordy's voice was shrill, even in whisper as she berated the sobbing redhead. "What the hell did you think you were doing, Willow? Hel-looo! Don't you remember, junior year, Angelus, uninvite spells - which reminds me, you do still remember those, right, because we are *so* going to my apartment next!"
"I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened," Willow sniffled before hiccuping on another soft sob. Oh, Goddess, had she really caused Angel to lose his soul again? She would have to call Giles and get him to send the disc overnight or have someone bring it. Then he would want to know *why* the souled vampire was once again soulless. Oh, no. That just wasn't a question she was prepared to answer. Maybe Spike could sneak back into Sunnydale and steal it from Giles' hiding place, in his sock drawer.
"Gee, I don't know what happened either," the seer replied sarcastically. "I walk in to find you in the middle of a vamp sandwich and you're telling me you don't know what happened? I know you're not super jaded, but come on Wills, I know you've heard of a menage trois. And from the looks of things you were the one being menaged." Cordy motioned to the two sets of bite marks on the redhead.
"Sod off, cheerleader! Leave Red alone," Spike growled. He put a comforting arm around his witch and pulled her close, gently rubbing calming circles on her back as the girl continued to cry.
"And *you*!" The former May Queen turned her wrath on the bleached blond. "Did you really want Angelus back so badly? If I recall you're the one who helped send him to hell. I don't think Angelus would be too happy with you if he got loose again."
"Don't want the bastard back anymore than you do. Bloody idiot wants to claim my witch and I'll let that happen over my undead body."
"That's all you care about? That he wants to *claim* Willow. I've got new for you Blondie, I've got my own neck to worry about here!"
The room erupted into a shouting contest between Spike and Cordelia, with Willow attempting to apologize over and over. Wesley was the only one not involved in the arguing, which is probably why he was the only one that noticed the now awake vampire watching them with a great deal of amusement.
"Uh, everyone. . .," he tried to interrupt.
". . .don't know why my Sire'd want to drain you anyway. Your blood probably tastes like some poofy drink with one of those little umbrellas in it."
"Hey, my blood would taste damn good, and don't you forget it!"
"Children!" The former watcher raised his voice and waved a hand between Spike and Cordelia before they came to blows.
"What!" Both said simultaneously and glared at the man.
"He's awake."
Three new sets of eyes flew to the restrained vampire who wiggled his fingers at them. "Hey guys. Uh, want to let me go?"
"Ohhhhh, no! No way, mister. You're not fooling me with that little act." Cordy moved cautiously toward her strung up boss.
"Delia, it's me, soul and all, I promise."
Willow shuffled forward, just as wary as the seer. "How do we know you're not lying, acting like Angel so we'll let you go, then you'll get all grr and go ahead and kill us all."
Spike snorted and walked nonchalantly over to the vampire, sitting down next to him on the mattress and pulling out a cigarette. He looked the chained man up and down. "Haven't seen you in this position in a good century. Ahhh, those were the days. Darla did love to play with her boy, didn't she?"
"Shut up Spike. You can tell. Look at me. Tell them I'm me, I'm Angel."
The blond looked closely at the coffee brown eyes. Yep, there was Angelus. . .and Angel. "He's still the Poof. You can let him go Watcher."
"How can you be sure?" Willow stepped closer, darting nervous and embarrassed glances at the dark vampire. Spike pulled her down on his lap and she landed with a little 'Eeep!'
"Can see the demon *and* the soul in his eyes. They're both there."
The redhead looked at the vampire curiously now. "So, why didn't you lose your soul, Angel? Oh, is it because we didn't, well, you know. . ." A blush stained her cheeks and she lowered her eyes shyly.
"No, Willow. You made me very happy, but while I was sleeping, the Powers took me to a different plane and explained it all. But I really don't think now's a good time to go into detail." He looked pointedly at the others in the room.
"Oh, I see. I'm not worthy enough to find out your little secret from the powers? What am I, chopped liver? I *am* the seer for the stupid Powers," she grumbled.
Angel's eyes softened as he looked at the girl. "Doyle sends his love, Delia, and says he's sorry about the headaches."
The brunette's mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air, then tears filled her eyes. "Doyle? You saw him?"
"He was my messenger. If it makes you feel any better, he's at least matching clothes now. The Powers are dressing him better, even if it is all in white."
Wesley released the last manacle and Angel rubbed his wrists lightly. They were all staring at him. He knew they wanted answers, but he wasn't ready. The vampire really wanted to process this information before approaching Willow and letting her know what the Powers had told him.
"Well?" Spike frowned at his grand-sire.
"All I can say right now is Willow can't cause me to lose my soul."
"Why is that, exactly?" Wesley asked.
"Because she's the one who gave it to me."
Spike's grip tightened on the redhead sitting on his lap. He didn't like what Angel was implying. He could shag Willow all he wanted and would remain all poofy. His eyes turned golden as he looked down at the still sprawled vampire. He rested his head on the witch's shoulder and glared at the dark vampire. "Mine!"
Angel rolled his eyes. Doyle had been right. This was going to be harder than he thought.
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