“You’re friends with the Slayer?” Cordelia asked, her stomach twisted in knots of anxiety. She hadn’t laid eyes on the Slayer since granting his wish and since her boss, D’Hoffryn, had fired her the next day she hadn’t heard a thing about the outcome of said wish granting. Since all of her vengeance wishes tended to go as planned, she figured that granting a wish for something good to happen would go along smoothly, too. However, the minute she laid eyes on Spike, saw the same heartache in his eyes, and remembered what Angel had said about his friend grieving over the loss of his girlfriend, her heart clenched. Had the wish not been granted? And, if so, why had her powers been stripped?
Before she could stop herself, Cordelia cringed after hearing the next sentence pour from her mouth, “Why isn’t Buffy with you?”
And on with the story...
To say that Cordelia was regretting her choice of words would be a huge understatement. Glancing around the table, her gaze landed on the set of frosty blue eyes positioned directly across from her that was currently giving her one heck of a case of heebie jeebies. For the time being she was completely happy with being a living, breathing, and one hundred percent human because otherwise she’d be Slayer meat judging by the expression on his face at the moment. Realizing that silence was not golden in a situation such as this, Cordelia gathered up the courage to say, “I’m just going to go out on a limb by saying she’s not here, right?”
“Cordy, I told you what happened with…” Angel started, only to be cut off by Spike.
“We’ve met before, haven’t we?” Spike inquired. There was something familiar about his friend’s date, but for the life of him, Spike couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Sadly, the past couple of months had been spent in a drunken stupor and most of the trivial moments were missing from his memory.
“You could say that. No formal introductions or anything, but we did have a chat at Willy’s one night.” Cordelia would’ve sighed with relief that he didn’t recall their conversation, but at the exact moment she had that thought the Slayer’s eyes lit up with recognition.
“The bartender, right? Yeah, you managed to get me to blather on about my dead girlfriend. Haven’t seen you in there since then.” Spike mulled over his thoughts for a very brief moment before adding, “What confuses me is why in the bleeding hell you’d be inquiring about my dead girlfriend’s whereabouts when I’ve already told you.”
Angel eyeballed his date and wondered what else he didn’t know about her. “You worked at Willy’s? Isn’t that strictly limited to demons…er, bad people?”
“Mainly demons, yes, but they get clientele of all types. And I never really worked there; I just filled in that one night.” Cordelia explained to her confused date. Knowing the Slayer wouldn’t drop the inquisition, she had no choice other than to explain the hows and what’s of her knowledge. Sadly, Cordelia had a sinking feeling that what she was about to expose about her former life would no doubt ruin her fledgling romance with Angel. “Ok, here’s the sitch. For about a thousand years or so I was a Vengeance demon sent to Earth to grant the wishes of heartbroken souls that demanded restitution against those who wronged them. When I felt the Slayer’s pain I made my way to the bar, got him to spill his story and wish, then I granted it. Since the wish had nothing to do with vengeance and everything to do with happiness and whatnot my boss stripped me of my powers and planted my human ass in Sunnydale as punishment. Up until now I thought everything had went all hunky dory and the Slayer and his vampire were living happily ever after on this piss poor excuse of a Hellmouth. Does that about sum it up for you?”
“You were a demon? I’m dating a reformed demon?” Angel muttered as his brain tried to digest the shocking news. After a couple of deep breaths that allowed room for a rare moment of clarity, he asked, “Is that common in the demon world? Becoming human, I mean.”
“I don’t think so. I’ve never heard of it happening outside of my class of demon and I think that’s only possible because vengeance demons are humans when recruited and then changed. “Cordelia twirled a locked of hair around her index finger as she pondered the idea. “I guess it could happen though. I mean, it’s a strange world out there. Why?”
Spike glanced across the dance floor, his eyes instantly seeking out the figure he longed to hold. He watched her in silence, ignoring the questioning glances from his friends. His heart ached as he took in the happy expression on her face, the carefree way her body moved as she danced seductively and as their eyes connected. Spike wondered what right he had to ruin her chance at a normal life. “I’ve got a funny feeling the wish you granted wasn’t quite a failure.”
Mine.
The thought slithered through her mind seductively teasing her with the force of its desire. She ached with the need to possess him, to make him hers and hers only. She craved his touch, the taste of his skin and feel of his heated flesh against her sweat moistened skin.
Moving seductively to the rhythm of the pulsating music, Joan moved only for him, to please only him. Her desire took over and led her through the motions of seducing the blue eyed man from her dreams. Her hands slid teasingly over the curve of her hips as they swayed slowly to the beat and she naughtily imagined that it was his hands caressing her body instead.
The force of the emotions coursing through her body both shocked and excited Joan. What was it about this man that incited such passion inside her? Why was he the only one that could cause her breath to falter, her hear to beat wildly and her stomach to twist into a knot of anticipation? Why did his icy blue gaze cause her skin to erupt in a fit of tingles and her mind to spin with desire? Joan feared she’d never know the answer to her questions and at the moment she didn’t care one bit. All she knew was that at this precise moment the only thing that mattered was being with him, having his hands on her body and being able to possess that which she craved with an animalistic need.
Leaving her so called date dancing alone, Joan walked towards him as if pulled by an invisible force. As if her body had no control and was powered only by the desire to be in his arms. She weaved through the gyrating bodies, her eyes never leaving his as she made her way across the room until finally she was within his grasp.
Her body sang with desire, hummed with the need to be in his arms; the need to claim what was rightfully hers was so strong Joan nearly wept with frustration. She stood silently as he unfolded himself from the cracked vinyl booth to stand mere inches from her trembling body. There was nothing to say, no pretense, no awkward pleasantries. Instead, Joan melted into his embrace and felt as though she were finally home.
Tilting her face up to his, she whispered one solitary word before claiming his lips.
“Mine.”