A sinister shadow watches the house, watches the little blonde, the one that is Angels wife, watches as she sits in the room, her back straight. She is tense, watching through the window it is clear to see that she has problems. This was going to be fun.
Observing Angel’s wife like this was very enjoyable, watching and waiting for the right time to make the next move.
Getting excited at the thought of the next step, the figure tenses, watching more intently, taking pleasure from her obvious discomfort.
Despite having been stood at the window for hours now, there was no pain, no discomfort. Watching the older man with Angel’s wife before he had retired for the night had not been as much fun, the two clearly took great pleasure in spending time together. She was like a little girl looking for a father figure, sadly the old one seemed happy to provide. It was a shame, but you can’t have everything.
Still watching. Waiting.
Every now and then she tries to leaf through a magazine, pausing to read, but quickly throws it back on the coffee table in exasperation. She rolls her neck, trying to relax, even once turning the television on, flicking through the channels, before shaking her head, blonde hair flying. The shoulders of the dark figure shake, as if suppressing laughter, whilst watching the beauty as she fidgets, there is pleasure here watching her discomfort.
Safe from discovery.
Hearing footsteps, the figure moves deeper into the shadows, watching the man walking up the path to the house, he looks determined, focused on getting inside, far too drunk to notice the figure lurking by the bushes, as he walks into the door, the shadow returns to the window, excited at the thought of the possible show to come.
Watching the fun.
Through the window, the menacing observer can see the couple having heated words and they are clearly a couple, they have such chemistry together. The shoulders shake again; the man is not Angel, the pleasure of knowing that Angel is suffering bringing on more laughter. It’s a shame the window is not open, then the heated words could be heard, there is disappointment, but not a great deal. Just watching is enough for now.
Watching the fireworks.
The blonde man is smirking now, moving to share the sofa with Angel’s wife, this could get interesting. It does, the dark form watches their clinch but when the view becomes obstructed by the back of the sofa it moves to the side of the house, to another window, one that has been used many times in the last week since the pretty one had been found.
Searching for the pretty one had taken time, but now, now the fun could really begin.
Still watching intently.
Watching as Angel’s wife wraps herself around the blonde man, her top gone, his hands on her pussy, her grinding against him, there is no sexual pleasure, only satisfaction knowing this would cause Angel pain. Disappointment too, what a joy a camera would be right now. Sending photos of this to Angel would be such fun. But no, best to let the game play out to its conclusion. Doesn’t want Angel coming to take the pretty one home yet, there is still too much fun to be had.
But they have stopped, she is sitting up, more heated words are thrown at the man, she is clearly still unhappy, there is a little curiosity and more disappointment that the words cannot be heard. But wait, she’s kissing him again, this time she is taking charge, she must have liked what he said.
There is a thrill in watching, one that has never faded, no matter how often it is done, there is always something new to see. The soap-operas are closer to the truth than they know, even without the sound effects; this little show was enlightening and enchanting.
Watching the pain.
Even though the little act didn’t come to fruition, the look for pain on the women’s face was like a fine wine and the silent observer drank it in, revelling in the emotions.
When she fled the room, the watcher stayed a while, contemplating the blonde man, deciding that there was a need to find out more about him. Once it was clear that the man had passed out, the ominous figure moves further around the house, slowly and silently.
Finding the tree, the one that had been used for this exact purpose many times before, the figure expertly and silently climbed until he reached her window. Angel’s wife was quietly sobbing on the bed, the window was open a crack and the most delightfully pain filled sounds where heard.
Watching with pleasure.
Oh yes, this one will last, I will wait, thought the dark clad figure enjoying the pain and suffering. There is a lot more of this to be had and I shouldn’t waste it, don’t know when I’ll have it this good again.
After the woman had fallen into an exhausted sleep, he turns his attention to the cot and the pretty little one he could see through the bars. Oh we’ll have such fun you and I, he says silently to the sleeping baby. Just you wait.
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A/N: Well this chapter gives you a much better idea of where the plot is going I realise that it’s not been too clear up to now, but I really wanted the relationships of Buffy, Spike and Angel to be clearer before I started to let you know what’s coming next.
You know what they say, things always get worse, before they can get better! Lots more angst coming up.
Thank you for all the wonderful reviews, you guys are great! I’m glad that you are enjoying the story; it’s really quite hard to write parts of it. In my original plan I was going to give you Angel’s entire first therapy session, but I couldn’t do it, so you got Cordy’s side of it instead.
Hope you like the rest of the story as much and please let me know what you think.
Nikki
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