Return.chapter10X

Title: The Master Willow Series: The Return Of Wicked Red
Author: psimetis
E-mail: psimetis@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17
Feedback: if it pleases you, do :).
Summary: This Chapter: Hello, Little One

Chapter Ten

“Invite me in, Willow?” Angel suggested, as he loomed in the doorway in his subtly menacing way.

“And why should I?” Willow replied pleasantly as she approached the door. “Do you come as avenging angel, here to stake me and Mum, or are you here as Family?”

“Is that what warding me out of my own home is about? You could have chosen somewhere else to live if you were afraid of me,” Angel growled.

“I did offer to buy the place from you, Granddad,” Willow answered with a disapproving frown, which looked more like a petulant pout coming from the vampire’s delicate features. “And I like it here. It was where I was reborn.”

At this, Angel’s broad shoulders sagged slightly. Remembering the sweet girl Willow once was, he was hard pressed not to compare the memory to the deceptively adorable face before him now. It was like what he had sensed three weeks before; this Willow acted more like her human self than the newborn Willow had. She even dressed different. Cool jacket.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you,” he finally said, his dark eyes sad.

“I’m not,” Willow commented indifferently. “Why are you here, Angel?”

“We need to talk. And I want to know where Tara is.”

“Kitten is fine. And Dru knows you’re here, by the way. If I let you in, you have to be civil,” Willow threatened, stepping closer to the bigger vampire and looking up menacingly. “When you left Mum with Spike, she never saw you for nearly a century, and then there was nearly twenty years where she barely had hope of returning here again. Don’t you dare try to dismiss her with a stake, like you did with Darla,” she growled, and she was referring to the rumor, which she was certain was true, that Angel actually tried to stake his own sire.

Angel could barely believe it; this little childe was threatening him! Angel wouldn’t hesitate to throw even his second eldest childe, Spike, a Master vampire in his own right, across the room for such insolence. But Angel did not survive 240 years without recognizing that the little one before him was definitely not what she seemed. Power rolled off her, thick and almost suffocatingly so, this close to the slender girl. Willow stared up at him with glittering, emerald eyes, and Angel did not doubt that he was sensing only a little of what she was capable of.

“Fine,” he finally answered. There was no emotion to his face. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

He was surprised when he saw the thinly disguised disgust on Willow’s face. What did she expect him to say? The childe stepped back and her face slipped into a distantly polite regard.

“You may come in, Angel.”

When Angel stepped out into the terrace, he was surprised by the appearance of the party. It definitely was not a typical vampire one. Not one minion or fledge was in sight, just some local demons, and there was no cage with imprisoned bleeders. Even the quartet was made up of demons, which meant there was no one here human for Dru or Willow to eat, unless--

There was Tara, in the arms of his Dark childe. They danced close, and the honey blonde human was gently leading. She laughed, and then Dru giggled. His insane childe looked delighted, which could only mean one thing.

“Tara must keep away from Dru--” Angel warned, starting toward the pair. A firm, yet small hand took his arm.

“Mum won’t kill Kitten,” Willow assured, as she led her reluctant granddad to the patio table and sat him down. “Mum loves Kitten, as I do.” She fetched her grandsire one of the warming cognac glasses. Angel shot her a dark look.

“So you intend to make a Pet of Tara?” he growled.

“Of course,” Willow answered. “Who wouldn’t?” When her grandsire only stared at the glass offered, she actually sighed. “It’s from Giano’s. You know they only use volunteer bleeders.” The redhead nearly rolled her eyes at granddad’s behavior as he finally accepted the glass with one of his trademark pained expressions. The old man was so guilt ridden, he would even try passing up a free glass of human blood.

“Now why are you here, Grandpappy?” she quipped as she took a seat at the table.

“Tara told me something of what happened to you and Dru when you disappeared,” Angel said. “You’re definitely alot different from when you were first born.” That was practically an understatement, as far as Angel was personally concerned. The demon unleashed in the freshly Turned Willow had been a murderously gleeful maniac; a second Dark Goddess, much like her mother, but minus the insanity. The incredible control this Willow was exhibiting had Angel’s grudging respect and his curiosity. He’d really like to know how this Willow came to be, and what she was doing here in Sunnydale.

“Yes,” he heard Willow comment in an off hand manner. “Taking care of Mum made me grow up quick.”

“So what happened?” Angel asked casually. “Why’d it take nineteen years?”

“How much time do you have for me to tell you?” Willow joked.

The childe and the elder vampire fell into easy conversation then, chatting amiably even as they sized each other up. Grandsire’s attempts to feel Willow out were obvious. She in turn, gave him select anecdotes of her and Dru’s adventures--but nothing that would reveal the full extent of what she could do, or had done. At one point she pulled out a small silver case from her inner jacket pocket--imported cigarillos. She offered, but Angel refused.

“So you didn’t enjoy being a Master, Little One?” Angel mocked, finally relaxing with his second glass of warmed blood. The childe was sharing a funny story of when she had to play a clan Master. Willow had inherited the territory of a Master vampiress she had killed. The dusted vampiress had tried to make Dru her unwilling seer and mate. Willow scowled.

“Minions are idiots,” Willow complained. “And if you Turn smart humans they end up plotting against you. And the disciplining! I never had a moment’s peace. I was forever meting out beatings and tortures. And I hated the politics,” she groused as she took another puff of her tiny cigar. “Always a snore of a party at clan this, or clan that, and then making sure you didn’t insult the stuck up elder clan who’s too ‘elder than thou’ and fond of crucifying childer at the drop of a misspoken word. I got fed up, so I instigated clan war and had them destroy each other. Dru had alot of fun though,” she added as a perky afterthought.

Her mayhem loving Sire in question was sitting on the grass with Kitten while the quartet took another break. The elder vampire was gesturing with her arms, obviously telling her own fun stories. Kitten graced Willow with a glance just then, slyly checking her out. Willow wondered if Kitten liked her cigarillo. She waggled her eyebrows and gave the little cigar a flick. Yeah baby! There was Kitten’s amused half grin. The blonde turned back to her chattering Sire once more.

When Willow returned her attention to Angel, the vampire was grinning--which he rarely, to Willow’s knowledge, ever did--in a pensively dark manner into his glass.

“Angelus would have liked that, huh?” Willow noted lightly. “You were never much for vampire society, that’s why you and Darla roamed free with your childer. None of that Vlad fiefdom life for you.”

Angel raised his dark eyes to the little childe and scowled at her. Oops. Mr. Broody was back again.

Dru thought she saw a glimmer of her Dark Daddy when she glanced at the man beside her Precious, and then he was gone. She turned to the great face of the moon and then down to her fretting hand that plucked grass.

“Him, yet not him,” she whispered. “Him, yet not. Who am I then? What shall I do?”

Tara frowned. Dru’s moods were so mercurial. The elder vampire was giggling one second, and then one look at Angel and she was scattered into mad mutterings once more.

“Go say hi,” she suggested softly. “Then you’ll know.”

Dru’s sharp nails grazed Tara’s flesh as she quickly took the witch’s hands. The blonde winced slightly. She was very grateful that Willow kept her own nails extremely short and neatly trimmed. The elder vampire stood up, and silently urged Tara to accompany her.

“So what are your plans now that you’re back home?” Angel finally asked. He was on his third glass of blood. Willow just smoked and drank nothing. Her control was amazing. He then felt the presence of his first childe nearby, and he looked up into the frightened, expectant eyes of Drusilla.

“Um, Angel, would you like to dance with Drusilla?” he heard Tara ask in her soft, ingenuous manner.

Angel paused, his face impassive. Willow readied a foot to kick him. Then the souled vampire stood up.

“I would love to,” he said, staring down at his Dark childe. For the first time in nearly a century, he addressed her. “Come Dru.”

Willow let out a stream of smoke as both elder vampires left the table. Kitten smiled and took the seat Angel had vacated.

“That idiot. I thought he was about to fuck up,” Willow swore.

“Tsk. Such a potty mouth, and so pretty too,” Kitten quipped. She cocked her head as Willow put the cigarillo to her grinning mouth. “That smells so good. I never thought they could.”

“That’s because cheap cigars are made out of crap, Kitten,” Willow explained. She handed the tiny cigar to her witch, wondering if she knew how to smoke. “These are Cuban. You can smell their flavor. They taste like rich moist earth, rain, and banana leaves. It’s like smokin’ Mama Earth herself,” she grinned. Kitten readied for an experimental puff. “Don’t inhale, just take it to the back of the throat.” She watched Kitten’s cheeks suck hesitantly, then blow some smoke out. The vampire’s grin grew naughty, thinking how sexual that looked, Kitten puffing on Willow’s little cigar. Freud much?

“Mm. Strong,” the blonde witch slightly grimaced, handing the cigarillo back to Willow. She picked up her water glass.

Willow giggled and fantasized that the little cigar was Kitten’s as she put it back in her mouth. She sucked. Rrrr. Kitten smiled, then glanced in Angel’s direction.

“He, um, he doesn’t know what to feel, because of the guilt,” she heard Kitten hesitantly say. The vampire’s good mood soured.

“He hates us,” Willow stated darkly, watching her sire and grandsire dance.

“No,” she heard Kitten disagree. “It’s more like--because of what he did to Dru, and maybe because he couldn’t protect you, he, um, doesn’t feel he deserves to love you.”

Willow tore her eyes from the elder vampires to stare into Kitten’s gentle blue eyes. “That’s giving Angel lots of credit, Kitten,” she commented. “If he felt so undeserving of our company, he should stake himself, not the other way around.”

“Does he really want to kill you and Dru?” the blonde witch asked, concerned.

“To gain some redemption for over a century of bloody mayhem, yes. He’s on the Slayer’s side, Kitten. Mum and I are still creatures that kill people, after all,” Willow said with some bitterness, thinking of Darla. Willow didn’t care much for the great grandmother she had never met, it was just the idea that Angel now set himself up as judge and executioner of his own kind that peeved her. If he and Darla had a personal falling out and attempted to kill each other, fine, Willow would have never given the incident another thought.

“Maybe, you three could reach a compromise?” she heard Kitten ask.

“Oh,” Willow continued, with a slight rise of her eyebrow. “You mean a, ‘Willow and Dru will not kill’ type compromise, Kitten?”

The young woman lowered her eyes. “I w-would never--you are who are. It would be unfair to ask.”

“But you’d like it, wouldn’t you Kitten,” Willow softly surmised, and leaned forward to capture her witch’s receptive lips. They enjoyed each other’s mouths for a while.

“Mmm,” Willow finally hummed, leaning back. “I’ll think about it Kitten.” And she enjoyed the sight of the blonde witch’s shy, yet extremely happy, tremulous smile. Then the smile faded.

“Willow,” Kitten said, biting her lip. “I have to tell you s-something...”

Angel watched Willow and Tara kiss. The little one didn’t even kiss like a demon, she kissed like a sweet girl. He could not figure the childe out. Somehow a strong personality had asserted itself over the demon, much like how Spike’s impassioned personality could assert itself over his own demon. It was what made that troublesome childe so capable of loving and cherishing Dru for over a century. He was unsure how to deal with Willow though, not knowing if she had designs for the Hellmouth or some such scheme. Unless the young childe made a move first, he will have to wait. And then, there was of course Dru.

Angel gazed down upon the dark head of his unusually quiet daughter as she clung to him, her dark, large eyes faraway. They were his childer after all, he sighed inwardly. What was he thinking? They were on opposite sides, and yet they were his. And now one of them was going to make a Pet of one of the Slayer’s friends.

“Kitten, you’re not a demon,” Willow stated, a frown on her cute face.

“How...how can you be so sure?” Tara exclaimed, hardly believing what she was hearing.

“I drank your blood, I would know. There’s not a drop of demon in you. Magic is in every mortal, you know that. A demon doesn’t have to give it to you. You are one hundred percent, yummy human Tara,” Willow grinned. “All magical Wiccy goodness.” And how, Willow mentally salivated, re-living the tasty memory.

But Kitten didn’t look convinced. Damn family brainwashing, Willow silently groused. Kitten better not need deprogramming.

“Do you know Anya, at the Magic Box?” Willow suddenly questioned.

“Yes, she’s an ex-demon, and she’s seen so much, f-from being around more than a thousand years, b-but she couldn’t help me,” Tara stammered. Her blue eyes darted, still stuck on thoughts she didn’t want to think. God, that meant her family--

“What did Anya say?”

“Sh-she thinks there’s no demon in me either,” Tara explained. “Unless it were a weird and complicated curse that w-would somehow p-put one in me on m-m-my---but there’s no ritual, it’s supposed t-t-to just--”

Willow took the witch’s hand. Tara accepted the comfort gratefully, nearly gasping from her effort to speak. She was becoming upset, and her heart was beating frantically.

“Kitten,” the vampire’s soft voice soothed. “Like Anya, I think you’ve been lied to. But let’s not think about your stinkin’, lying family, okay? You are the most beautiful person here, right now. I want you. And if you do come with a curse, we can deal with it when the time comes. Right now, there’s just you. Yummy you. And me, who wants you. Right now, you’re my Kitten. Sounds good?” Willow stroked the young woman’s hand, watching her troubled blue eyes closely. Tara rallied herself and put her old, and now discredited burden, away.

“S-sounds good,” she answered softly, smiling shyly once again. Willow loved making Kitten smile. It made the vampire want to smile.

“Everything all right?” she heard Angel ask, Dru in tow upon his arm as he approached. Of course he would have heard Kitten’s frantic heartbeat. He probably hadn’t the decency not to eavesdrop either. Well, Willow never was respectful about her own vampiric hearing, but still.

“Yes,” Willow merely answered. Now was a good time to move the party along.

“Mum!” the red haired vampire announced, as she turned to her Sire. “Time for the Little Hunt!” Dru jumped up and down at the words, still linked in Angel’s arm, and squealed. The male vampire frowned. He did not like hearing the word ‘hunt’. It only meant one thing.

“Oh Precious! Like th’ picnic?” Dru enthused to her childe. After the second dance with her long lost Daddy, Dru was more comfortable in his presence. She felt that there were things that needed to be said to him, but--she was trying ever so hard to stay focused--the stars were being pesky, but she ignored them. Precious’ little hunts always helped keep her here.

“Yep! Prezzies await you,” her childe affirmed, rising from her chair and kissing her sire on the cheek. “Grandpappy will take you on your Little Hunt in the garden.”

As Dru pulled upon her Sire’s arm, chattering about a picnic on the Thames with rabbits and faerie lights, Angel stood immobile and scowled at Willow.

“Nothing’s going to die,” the younger vampire enunciated slowly to the bigger vampire. “They’re just fun things for Mum. Now go!”

As the elder vampires finally headed towards the gardens, Willow took the blonde witch’s hand. She addressed the rest of the demon party goers.

“Thank you for coming! Good night!” she simply announced. A chorus of voices wished the vampire and Tara good night and then guests rapidly swarmed the buffet table, snatching leftovers to take home. Clem’s girlfriend Bee grabbed all the flower arrangements. Tara had noticed her snacking on those earlier. Willow went to the musicians, who were quickly packing up, and handed them each their gratuity.

As the guests departed, making their way around the house, Tara watched Willow smile and offer the blonde her hand again.

“Who needs to keep a party going on a night like this?” The vampire remarked, as she led Tara leisurely in the direction of the gardens. “The moon is shining, the birds are--well, not singing, and the vampires are out, checking out the hotness that is you,” Willow purred, as she gave the blonde’s body an eyeful. The soft red dress clung to Kitten’s curves so nicely.

“W-what?” Tara exclaimed, feigning alarm, and let go of Willow’s hand. “Vampires? Where?”

“Right here, silly,” Willow breathed, poised in her poet’s shirt and velvet jacket in a very still, yet sexy manner. Kinda threatening, but still sexy.

“I-I should run away then,” Tara further exclaimed, taking a quick, dance-like step back, her skirt swirling softly around her legs.

“Please do,” Willow exhaled in her little girl voice, and she let her eyelids grow heavy in aroused anticipation. Her smirk grew.

Tara shot away, light on her feet, her excited laugh trailing behind her as she dashed into the garden. Willow gave her a moment’s head start and then leapt eagerly after her. Oooo Fast Kitty!

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