vikingprincess (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} vikingprincess) wrote,@ 2009-07-26 21:09:00 |
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FIC - Hunter/Hunted - 10 - First (Adult, BtVS/AtS/Xmen, Angel(us)/Rogue, Xander)
Title: Hunter/Hunted, Chapter 10: First
Author:vikingprincess
(chapters 1-8 by bothvikingprincess and adarkershade_x)
Fandoms: Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel and X-Men (Comics, main 616 universe)
Characters: Angelus/Rogue, Xander, ensemble from both X-Men and BtVS/AtS
Rating: Adult/NC-17 (nudity, language, violence, sexual situations, death)
Spoilers: Through Season 5 of Angel, final episode. None for X-men, though there are Mutant Registration Act and Civil War connections implied, never explicitly stated.
Updates: Every two weeks on Sunday.
Highlight: For additional warnings. Click the link only for spoilers! There will be character deaths (multiple, in both flashbacks and as the story progresses). IMO, the story’s better if you don’t know ahead of time who has died, or how. If you really want to know so that it doesn’t shock you, you can click here for deaths explicitly mentioned in this and other chapters.
Comments: ARE LOVE!
PLEASE DO NOT ARCHIVE.
All chapters can be found here.
Summary:
In a post-NFA world, Angel has lost everything: his Shanshu signed away, his friends dead... and his soul gone, worn to nothing but rags that aren’t enough to stop Angelus from rising to take control. Humans are hard to find, most far too fragile to have survived the Apocalypse. But a new breed of prey has emerged from the ashes... or perhaps they were there all along. Mutants. Angelus discovers that prey that fights back just… tastes better.
Nuclear War becomes the final solution of terrified humans, running scared from Homo Superior. Billions die to slaughter a few thousands... civilization will never rise again. But in the ashes of a terrifying new world, Rogue discovers that mutants aren't all that humans should have been fearing, and that demons think mutants are just a little more fun to hunt. Rogue would much rather be the hunter than the hunted.
Previously:
He touched her face again, gentle as a butterfly on a flower, and whispered, “I like to have my cake and eat it too, Rogue. Or I would if I still ate, anyway.”
She raised her hand, cupping his fingers to her face, and tilted her head into that touch, savoring it even though she all too well the sort of creature who was touching her… and the kind of creature she was, too. Just like him. Wanting it all, but where Angelus wasn’t held back by raggedly torn remnants of ethics, Rogue still had a conscience. A guilty one. But she couldn’t resist that touch.
He kissed her, gently and thoroughly, letting her sweet and delicate flavors mingle with the memory of the Slayer’s blood on his tongue, and Rogue leaned into the kiss, a hungry, eager participant in her own seduction of the soul –so much more difficult and rewarding than a seduction of the body. “Let me feed from you… and I won’t eat humans.” He smiled wickedly down at her. “Well, unless they’ve done something… really bad.”
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Chapter 10:
Rogue blinked up at Angelus, sense and suspicion returning to her eyes in equal measure. “An’ just who gets to define ‘really bad,’ Ah wonder,” she said dryly, and wrapped her fingers around his to pull his hand from her face. He hadn’t been able to sink fang in here any time he’d tried, so why attempt to make such a bargain? It wasn’t as though she’d be able to keep it, unless she were willing to do something so ridiculous as break her own arm! An impossible offer for unfathomable reasons.
“Hey, you invited me to come along… and dragged me over here to talk while you buried the meat,” he pointed out, one corner of his mouth quirking wickedly. “You tell me, Rogue.” And he noted, pleased, that she was still holding his hand.
*
Settling Carrie in sleeping comfort hadn’t taken Xander long. He covered her with a thermal blanket, and moved to stare out of the partially broken bay window of the little family home, watching with one sober brown eye as the crazy woman made Angelus carry Mattie’s drained corpse into another house across the cracked and broken street, then pushed him back outside to disappear within by herself. Seconds later, the house started to collapse, not with the orderly fall of well-laid and planned dynamite for clearing a lot, but in violent shudders and crashes, as though a wrecking ball were attacking it from inside.
She emerged from the wreckage a few minutes later to speak with the murderous vampire, and Xander’s eye widened with disbelief as Angelus kissed her… and she let him.
“Not just Slayer-strong,” he muttered to himself, scratching fretfully beneath his eyepatch, unsurprised at the resentment he still harbored for Angel making Buffy love him all those years ago. Except this wasn’t even Angel. This was Angelus. “Slayer-stupid, too.”
He turned away from the window to take a few precautions, then started to prepare a meal for himself and Carrie, for when she woke. After a moment’s consideration, he increased his preparations to feed three, instead of two. The crazy woman had buried Mattie. He could feed her.
Once.
*
Rogue’s fingers trembled in Angelus’ grip, and she pulled them free, trying to tell herself there was no way he could have noticed such a tiny reaction. It was a feeble lie at best, and she didn’t even believe it herself. “Fine,” she said stiffly, and wondered if she was about to make a huge mistake. “If it’s between me an’ other folks,” she said after a long, long moment. “Then Ah’d rather y’ tried to snack on me.”
Angelus leaned close, his cool lips a breath from her ear, his words stirring the platinum streak that never would stay tucked back. “Where there’s a will… there’s a way. Count on it.”
Her scent rocketed between lust and fear, both spiced with stubborn determination, and he savored the mix like fine wine. Sure, he hadn’t managed to break her skin with his teeth yet, but the tastes he’d gotten when they fought, or when her mother had attacked her, had been more than enough to have him wanting every drop he could get. Besides, she could be cut… her mother had done it with that slender curved blade of that weird metal… which, he recalled, Rogue had some of herself, in the form of a multi-tool… a multi tool with a blade. Perfect.
Rogue turned her head to face him squarely, chin already rising in defiance of what he was making her feel. “Ah did say try,” she emphasized, and pushed him away –not nearly as hard as she could have. His only answer was a smile, small, wicked, and infinitely appealing. Just like Remy’s had been, once upon a lifetime ago.
What am Ah gettin’ myself into, she wondered, an ache in her heart at the reminder of all she’d lost. Trouble was, a dark and eager part of her didn’t care what she’d lost… it only wanted to explore what she’d found.
Rogue turned away, resenting her own confusion and needs, and made her way toward the ramshackle house where Xander had set up camp, and Angelus caught up to her in a couple of strides, trying to work out a way where he could ‘accidentally’ off Xander and the mini-Slayer without alienating his petite little firebrand.
At the doorway, he dropped back and gestured for her to enter, an Old World courtesy intended to keep her just that little bit off balance. “Ladies first,” he purred, and Rogue shot him a glance that blended an irritated frown with raised eyebrows, adorably skeptical, as she stepped past. He chuckled, and followed her.
Or tried to. “What the hell,” he exclaimed, pushing at the hardened air that prevented him from entering, and made even angrier at Xander’s smug look.
“Oh, sorry,” the boy said in his most annoying tone. “Did I forget to mention that before Willow headed off with Buffy, she set up some nice, portable, anti-vamp mojo for the other teams in the field? Never settle for the night without it.” He grinned, baring all his teeth, single eye fierce. Snarling, Angelus slammed his fists into the invisible barrier, eyes burning gold and game-face twisted in a full-on fury. “Oops.”
Rogue looked from man to dead man, forehead furrowed in confusion. “Y’ mean… he can’t co—“ Quicker than she would have thought he could, Xander slapped his bare palm over her mouth, and she jerked back hard in the fraction of a second before her insidious power could activate. “Don’t do that,” she growled, hands up to ward him off.
“Don’t do what, and for God’s sake, don’t ask him in after I just locked him out and threw away the mystical key, because that would be deadly stupid,” Xander replied, every bit as startled at her reaction as she’d been when he touched her. “And I do mean deadly. He may like you –which, wow, the amazing horror of that, because you seem to like him too, which, hello, fast train to wacky-land— but he pretty much hates us and would like to see us dead, in the blood-spraying, dance-around-in-our-entrails way. So, no vampires in the house, ‘kay?”
Still breathing a little unevenly, heart going pitter-pat at the nearness of putting the kid in a coma after everything else she’d inadvertently brought down on him and his girls, Rogue jerked a nod. “Fair enough. He can’t bite me, any road.”
“He’s standing right here,” Angelus bitched, face human again, and sulky with it. “So do you mind?”
Xander chuckled, a dry, humorless sound. “Oh, I mind. I mind everything about you still existing. But better out there than in here.” Dismissing the vampire as though he didn’t exist, purely for the pleasure of hearing Angelus slap his hands futilely against the spell again, Xander turned to Rogue, curiosity all ablaze. “What’s with the no touchy? You didn’t stop fang-boy from making with the smoochies, so… care to share?”
Rogue sighed, feeling a blush steal into her cheeks at the reminder of her rather obvious partiality for the vampire’s touch, and raked her naked hands through her hair. She wished she had some gloves with her, but there hadn’t been a need for them in so long…. “Not especially,” she replied, “but maybe Ah should. Don’t want any accidents. Ah’ll trade y’, Xander. Explain how y’ managed to stop my… companion, out there, and Ah’ll give y’all the Don’t Touch Rogue 101 lecture.”
“Hey,” her vampire said, again dragging her attention over his way. “How come she gets to be inside? Is this another she-demon magnet thing?”
“Ah’m not a demon,” Rogue shot back, affronted. She met Xander’s eye. “Ah’m not,” she said again, surprised to see color rising up his neck in a dull red stain. Was there actually someone else in the world who blushed as frequently –and as badly!— as she did?
“Um,” he said, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “Old news. So old it’s practically decayed. Really not important. At all. So,” he said, voice changing from embarrassed to bright and cheery in a heartbeat, “Who’s hungry?”
“I know I am,” Angelus lied with wicked mendacity, though he was topped off with Slayer blood, just for the fun of watching Xander twitch.
“Ah could eat,” Rogue replied, after giving Angelus a dirty look and receiving one of utter innocence in return, one that made her laugh despite herself, “but Ah don’t have to if y’all are short of supplies.”
“Huh,” said Xander. “No, there’s enough. Come on.” He led Rogue to the stewpot, and invited her to sit with an absurdly gracious wave of his hand. “I left the fine china and linen napkins in my other rucksack,” he informed her, and Rogue grinned as she dropped to sit gracefully cross-legged on the old Army blanket he’d spread out. “So we’ll be roughing it. Dehydrated stuff, all rehydrated and warm if completely bland.”
“Sounds fine t’ me,” Rogue answered around a sudden lump in her throat. The last time she’d eaten in company with anyone at all had been that last breakfast, before the various teams of X-men had separated for their urgent missions. She’d expected never to do it again, and had to sit very still for a moment against the surge of memories it brought, sweet and painful.
Xander served them both, and handed Rogue a steel bowl as he looked over at the sleeping Carrie, whose thumb had crept into her mouth. “Just gonna let her sleep a little more,” he said quietly. Rogue nodded. Sometimes, sleep was the only way to escape what the world had become, and even a small respite could make the difference between living and dying.
Angelus, now at a broken-out window instead of the door, sighed theatrically. “I could help her sleep,” he offered.
Rogue rose on another sigh, and went to the window. “Look here,” she said, very quietly. “Ah want t’ talk to him for a little while. And Ah swear Ah’ll make this very small, very benign piece of neglect up to y’all. Tonight. All right?”
He looked at her speculatively. “You’re… trying to bribe me? Marie, I’m disappointed in you. It’s so… peaceful. Boring, really, considering all the things we’ve… shared….”
Rogue snorted, and before she could think about it too much, her fist shot out through the window and connected with his jaw, snapping his head back. “Is that any better,” she asked sweetly, making sure that none of her hair blew out past the window frame by gathering it in one hand as she looked up at him with a cheeky smile.
He slammed his palms to either side of the window, making the house walls creak with the impact. “Now you’re just getting me hot,” he growled, intrigued at how quickly she’d taken advantage of the dead redhead’s leftover spellwork to make a point. Then again, he already knew she was a fast learner…. Leaning in until his nose pressed against the wall of magic, he whispered, “And I’m gonna make you pay… Marie.”
Rogue shuddered from head to heels, heat licking inside of her with anticipation. “Countin’ on that,” she breathed, swallowing hard. “Now go away. Walk a perimeter ‘r somethin’. Clean up. Somethin’.”
He backed away slowly, letting his hands slide down the wooden frame like a caress, and Rogue’s eyes dilated a little bit as she kept them fixed on his. “Tonight,” he agreed, mind already filling and cock already hardening with delicious anticipation of just what he could do to his sexy little mutant obsession. And what he could make her do to him, if he just manipulated that hungry desire, her scent washing over him like thick, rich magnolia honey.
*
Xander watched the byplay even more intently than before, and when Rogue returned to sit across from him, her jeans-clad knees nearly brushing his camo-clad legs, he commented, “Not that I don’t admire the way you reach out and punch him, but don’t you think it’ll just piss him off?”
Rogue chuckled. “Kinda countin’ on it, actually,” she admitted, and filled her mouth with reconstituted stew.
“Uh-huh,” he replied. “So not asking.” She blushed again, and he raised his eyebrows, patch scraping a bit on his weathered cheek, before changing the subject. “What’s with the not-touching anyone but Deadboy, anyways?”
Rogue swallowed her stew down. “It’s my power,” she said simply, and when all Xander did was gesture with his spoon for her to go on, she did. “When Ah touch a person –a livin’ being, Ah mean, human ‘r demon ‘r mutant, Ah… my skin takes somethin’ from them. Can’t control it; never could. But it can land a body in a coma, or kill ‘em.”
“Suck,” he commented succinctly. “Wait, mutants? You really don’t look like a mutant,” he told her, giving her a frank up and down with his one eye.
Rogue shrugged. “Well, Ah am. And my particular mutation lets me… steal… attributes from folks. Powers from other mutants ‘r demons, life force from everyone Ah touch.” She looked at the now empty window, a small frown furrowing her forehead. “Everyone ‘cept him, apparently.”
Xander rocked back on his butt, thinking. “So… the only guy you can touch without—“
“—Is him,” Rogue agreed, dropping her gaze to look at her bowl. “Don’t know why. Ain't run into another vampire yet, so who knows?” Methodically, she ate more, and didn’t speak again until the stew, bland but warm as advertised, and a soothing weight in her belly, was gone. “Thanks for th’ food,” she said, looking up at last to find Xander’s one eye studying her intently.
“So,” she said, awkwardly.
“Yeah,” Xander replied, still watching her as though he could look inside her brain. Hell, maybe he could, for all she knew; telepathy didn’t often show up as a physical mutation all on its lonesome.
“Um,” she tried again, “How did y’all stop Angelus from comin’ in here, any road?”
“Magic,” Xander said.
“Magic?” Rogue looked at him skeptically. “Really?”
“Cross my heart and plan to not die from a vampire bite,” he returned, actually making the gesture, then stacking their bowls together.
It was Rogue’s turn to say, “Huh. Well, surely have heard of stranger things, even before th’ world… changed.” They shared a quiet silence then, until Carrie whimpered quietly on the nasty old couch where Xander had bedded her down.
He was on his feet in a second, heading for the blonde teenager and resting a big hand on her tangled golden hair. “You’re okay,” he told her soothingly, and the girl rolled over and sat up, knuckling sleep out of her eyes in a way that gave Rogue a pang in the heart for all the students who had died with Storm that first day, crashing in the Blackbird on the way to Area 51 and Fury’s questionable protection.
Biting her lip, she filled one of the bowls up for Carrie, and brought it to her. “Here y’ go, sugar,” she said, and offered food and a spoon with which to eat it. “Ain’t half bad,” she encouraged.
Carrie reached out to take the food, sitting up with the thermal blanket twisted around her, and mumbled through a greedy bite, “Did you dust him yet?”
Rogue looked questioningly at her, and then at Xander. “Dust?”
“She means, have you killed Angelus yet,” Xander explained. “And that would be a no.” He gave Rogue a very level look. “I don’t think she’s going to.”
Rogue shook her head. “Made a deal,” she said, figuring now was as good a time to share that fact as any other, even if it would upset the younger gal. “He’s gonna try to eat me before he goes bitin’ on either of y’all. And since his teeth ain’t strong enough t’ break my skin….” Her voice trailed off, and she shrugged.
Xander and Carrie stared at her. “So,” Xander said at last. “You fly, touch people and suck their lives out, smash buildings into itty bitty pieces, and can’t be bitten by a vampire because your skin is, what… invulnerable?”
Carrie rolled her eyes, and a garbled, “Yeah, right,” came out of her mouth, fortunately with no stew following it.
“That’s about the size of it,” Rogue agreed, a tad embarrassed.
“Like stopping bullets invulnerable?” Xander knew he was geeking out, and he didn’t care. It felt so freaking normal to geek out!
“Well, Ah have done that a time ‘r two,” Rogue admitted, briefly wondering why he was so excited, and then realizing that of course, a normal human in the broken world would appreciate all of those things, instead of being worried that the evil mutant might try to take over the world. Hell, a mutant like her, who’d demonstrated she didn’t want to hurt a human and had gone toe to toe with the vampire this man and girl feared and hated, might even be something like… a hero. Again. Hope blossomed, twining its way alongside the purpose that was taking her and Angelus toward Tahoe.
“So, you’re like the uber- hot version of Supergirl,” Xander concluded gleefully. Just wait until he could get back to Giles! This was big. This was huge!
Rogue blushed. “Exceptin’ that Supergirl ain’t real,” she allowed, “Ah reckon y’ could put it that way.” If her poison skin was left out of the equation, any road….
*
They talked late into the night, sharing information interspersed with Carrie’s constant desire to make with the dusting of Angelus, at least until the girl dropped off again, and both Xander and Rogue were astonished at how narrow their worlds had actually been.
He’d been unaware of the entire mutant issue, focused entirely on Slayer training and recruitment, barely ever reading anything that wasn’t at least a hundred years old or so, or a comic book, as well as battling the demons that Rogue hadn’t even realized existed until the world was broken. She hadn’t ever truly realized there were such things, having figured they were just one-time mutations the few times she'd encountered any such thing before the bombs were set off, and consumed with mutant rights and alien invasions as the X-men had so often been, or that Los Angeles had been an enormous battleground between the forces of capital-G good and capital-E evil, and not the shattered site of a nuclear bomb like other major cities around the world, as she’d previously believed.
And the whole soul-no soul thing that Angelus had alluded to a time or two suddenly came a whole lot clearer, even if it did still sound like a faerie tale to her.
Most importantly, though, she let Xander and Carrie in on her whole reason for traveling toward the town of Tahoe: not just to take down her Mama, as she’d told Angelus, but because those were people who needed help, if the screams and fire in her stolen memories visions had been any indication at all, and because it was a place that could, if she played her cards right, become a sanctuary. A haven in the lost, broken world.
*
“We heard about it,” Xander admitted, as the night turned toward morning and Carrie slept, her head resting on his leg. “Not the whole mutant overlord thing –and I can’t even begin to express the big fun it is to say that, just so you know— but that there was a place that was safe. Well, safe-er. I thought it might make a good base for resting, regrouping, training Slayers… whatever. But now I’m thinking it won’t be so simple. Not a place to just walk into, am I right?”
“Not so much,” Rogue agreed, having picked up the expression from the one-eyed man. “And maybe especially not with just the four of us. But it ain’t altogether impossible, and it surely is worth doin’.” She stood up, stretching out the kinks of the longest conversation she’d had in months, and gave him an understanding look. “Don’t have t’ commit tonight, Xander, or at all, if y’ don’t want to. Ah’d understand wantin’ to stay clear of somethin’ like this. It’s a whole lot more’n a little quixotic.”
“It’s the Angelus angle that’s making me unhappy,” he reminded her, and Rogue’s pretty mouth thinned a bit as she nodded sharply. “You can’t trust him, Rogue. Ever.”
“Likely not,” she agreed, a bit sadly. “But Ah promise Ah’ll keep between y’all, if you do decide t’ come along and risk y’self and her in tryin’ to do this thing. Take care of these for me, will y’?” She took off her doubled belts, and placed them and the pouches they carried gently in his hands.
“Um. For how long? And where are you going?”
“Just ‘til mornin’,” she assured him with a smile. “And not far. Rooftop, Ah reckon, or someplace else in line of sight. Think of it as a guarantee that Ah’ll be back, all right?”
“Okay,” Xander said, the word drawn out by doubt. “Sleep well.”
Already on her way out the door, Rogue blushed. “Sleep ain’t exactly in the plan.”
“I so didn’t want to know that,” Xander whispered, absurdly worried for the invulnerable girl as he coiled her belts around her pouches to lay them carefully in the top of his pack, and got up to double-check the anti-vamp mojo before getting some rest himself.
*
The slight scrape of Rogue’s boots on the shattered street had Angelus’ head jerking up, nostrils flaring and the tiniest of growls coming from his throat. He’d been waiting on the roof for hours, crouching like a gargoyle and listening to her talk and even laugh with damned Xander Lavelle Harris, getting more and more irritated that his sweet and spicy little armful was wasting time on the boy when they could have been spending that time in heated red lust and violent fucking, when he could have been teaching her so much more than he already had.
He wasn’t jealous, no, not at all, Angelus assured himself. Just… irritated. That was it. Irritated. Rogue should learn not to irritate him like that. He’d have to… explain it to her….
With the silent stealth of the predator he’d always been, with the skill of nearly twenty-five decades of hunting and killing, he launched himself from the roof and tackled Rogue hard, one arm wrapped around her slim waist and trapping her arms against her body, the other hand slapping tightly across her mouth, thumb and forefinger pinching at her nose, for silence. The only sounds from his swift attack came after it was already done, a solid, muted thump from their landing, followed by the scrape of bodies across the pavement.
Rogue thrashed in the grip of her attacker, angry at herself for not being more cautious, for letting anticipation of some time with Angelus lower her guard. Since her arms were pinned, and breathing was going to be a problem in another moment, she kicked out with brutal strength as they rolled across the broken asphalt, and tried to bring her teeth to bear on the big hand that was smothering her. If she could just get a good angle, there or with her boots on the ground, there were any number of ways to take down this… whatever it was.
He held on as she struggled, savoring the strong twist and push of her luscious little body against him, taking the kicks and minor bruises of thrashing in the street as fair trade for the primal pleasures of feeling Rogue beneath him, of feeling her lungs desperately heaving for air she couldn’t get, of hearing her heartbeat slamming in a franticly intoxicating thump-thump of fear and anger.
“I hate waiting,” he growled, lips nuzzling the delicate shell of her ear, eager cock pressing hard against the flexing curves of her ass as she struggled.
Rogue shuddered violently beneath Angelus, and then went still with a twisted sort of relief. This wasn’t a random attacker, out to kill her; this was her vampire… which might be even worse. Or much, much better.
Even through the light-headedness of oxygen deprivation, being pinned down by him was exciting her; the rumble of his growl vibrating through her, the touch of his lips at her ear and the hard pressure of his arousal jerking against her rear had her whimpering with desire instead of struggling for survival. Her lips parted beneath his hand, and her tongue flickered out to draw a line of wet heat along his palm.
Angelus growled again, this time in pleasure, and his fingers relaxed enough to allow the beauty beneath him to take in a shaking breath… and then she did it again, nuzzling across his palm with the same rare tenderness that she’d given him the night her mother had attacked her, and taking his thumb between her lush lips, suckling it gently deep into her mouth and nipping delicately at the base.
Undone by the giving sweetness of her mouth, his hips jerked against her ass, and Angelus hauled them both to sit upright in the murdered orange moonlight, dragging her into the cradle of his bent legs, her spine against his sternum, and burying his face in the bend between her shoulder and neck, cool tongue and lips caressing hungrily along her flesh. Rogue moaned, and the sound shot straight to his cock.
She wanted him. Him, not stupid Xander Harris with his idiotic jokes, not the dead French guy he’d scented on her keepsake playing cards. Him, Angelus, soulless and damned and evil as he was, still… Marie wanted him. Without tricks, without games, without power plays, without wanting anything of him but himself. Just the way he was.
No one else had ever wanted him like that, not in all the long years he’d existed.
In a flash, he stood, freeing her arms and waist from his punishing grip, and holding her cradled in both arms instead. Rogue’s head spun, and she drawled, “Well, this here’s diff—“ only to be cut off by his mouth descending on hers with a fire that completely belied the coolness of his lips and tongue. Twisting in his arms, she half-rose to meet his searing kiss, her arms around his neck so tightly if he needed to breathe, he wouldn’t have been able to manage it. Her fists tangled in his hair, and she fought to get closer, deeper, in a way that was strong and vulnerable and desperate all at once.
The kiss went on until he could feel her lungs laboring for air again, and then on a bit more as she refused to give in to that basic need; it went on until Angelus could feel his knees buckling with desire, his cock ready to burst with need, and he ripped his mouth from hers.
“Time for payback, Rogue,” he whispered roughly, and leapt to a mostly-intact roof across the way, still clutching her tight to his chest.
A faint tingle of guilt chased through her system at just how long she had left Angelus alone while she’d been talking to Xander, when she had meant to speak with the boy for only a short time. Problem was, she liked the boy real well; despite his pathological hatred for Angelus, he was a good person. Nothing special about him, really, except his determination to make the world a better place no matter what it cost, and that one wise eye that seemed to understand what was going on in her heart even when she wasn’t entirely sure herself… like a younger Xavier with hair, a California accent, and absolutely no sense of style. But there were other things to think of, just now.
“Cain’t argue with that,” she whispered, and kissed him again, long, slow, and not exactly gentle. His hands tightened at her shoulder and hip, fingers digging in almost hard enough to bruise even her body, and Rogue made a hungry, pleased sound low in her throat, opening her eyes to see that his face was no longer humanly handsome, but that his forehead had gone rough and bumpy, his eyes a golden cat-gleam in the night.
“Put me down,” she said, more breath than words, her body humming with anticipation and nerves, and traced the ridge where his eyebrow had been, just above the shining circle of his right iris. This face was no more frightening than those of many of her mutant friends… and considerably less so than some. “Please.”
“Why should I?” He drew her up closer, rolling her higher on his chest, and if she’d been a normal girl, her ribs would have cracked at the pressure of his embrace.
Rogue licked her lips, her own eyes nearly gleaming, reflecting the shine of his, brighter than the moonlight. “Ah did say please….”
He took her mouth in a swift, savage kiss, letting her feel the prick of his fangs. “You’re pushing it… Marie….” Releasing her legs, he wrapped her torso with both arms, and lowered her slowly, excruciatingly conscious of the scrape of her breasts against his chest, her hands trailing from his neck down along the same path, and the tightening of her thighs beneath the denim she wore as they pressed against his raging hard-on.
Rogue swallowed hard, nipples tight with painful need and center growing hot and wet at the full-body caress, her knees shaky as her feet hit the roof at last. “Y’ are lettin’ me, darlin’….” Without waiting for an answer, she continued downward, until she knelt before him, her hands resting on his belt. Without allowing herself to pause, to give in to the potentially crippling shyness of never having done such a thing before, she undid the leather from the buckle, and lowered his zipper with trembling fingers, blushing fiercely in the dim orange light of the waning apocalypse moon.
His cool strong thighs quivered beneath her fingers, which moved light as moths’ wings as she lowered his pants and his cock sprang free, thick and pale and cool as she rubbed her cheek along that smooth, tight skin, working up her nerve to taking him in her mouth.
Angelus growled in frustrated impatience, and a hard hand twisted in her mingled platinum and dark curls, jerking her head back as he bent over her. “Don’t be a tease, sweetheart,” he began, and then smiled slowly as he took in the rich hot color in her cheeks, the mingled scents of fear and desire rising from her heated skin like thick, musky perfume. “First time, Rogue?”
Humiliated, she tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let her, forcing her swimming emerald eyes to stay locked on his feral golden ones, and her blush intensified as she whispered, “Is, at that.”
He wanted to throw back his head and roar triumph to the starless skies; he wanted to throw her on her back and rip her clothes to shreds, taking her then and there; he wanted to sink his cock and his fangs so deeply into her sweet innocence that he’d never come out again, that he’d mark her as his until she died or he was dust. But Angelus did none of those things. Instead, he pressed the gentlest kiss imaginable to her forehead, tension gripping his entire body from head to toe as he did it, and told her, voice rumbling low and pleased, “Take your time… for now….” His hand loosened in her hair, and he stroked it softly.
A breathless little sound escaped from her wine-red lips, half-laugh and half a sound of tension released, and Rogue smiled shyly up at him before licking her lips –his cock twitched violently at the sexy sight— and running her delicate little fingers along his length before parting her lips and sliding them around the broad head, her mouth hotter than lava as she sealed it around his much-cooler flesh and flicked lightly at the tiny slit with the tip of her tongue.
When she got bolder, taking him slowly and deeply into the hot cavern of her mouth and sucking greedily, his hand went painfully tight in her hair, and he groaned, hips rocking his cock slowly deeper into her mouth, scraping along her teeth with an edge of pleasure-pain that made his head spin.
Pleased at her apparent success in this new erotic art, Rogue hummed around his arousal, and tried to take him deeper still, fingers clenching and relaxing on the long muscles of his thighs as she worked her head back and forth, learning how to snatch breaths around him or through her nose, discovering the amazing variables of texture and taste, scent and sensation that were part of the first oral sex she’d ever given to anyone. Remy included, though the Cajun was far from her mind at the moment, if she could even be said to have a mind just then. Making Angelus respond to her without beating him bloody or scrapping like animals in heat was… curiously enlightening, and definitely arousing. She started to sway in time with his slow thrusts, her deepening swallows, and the place between her legs was soaking and slippery with excitement.
When Rogue sped up, taking him deeper, her tongue and throat and teeth all pulling him into rougher, faster movements, Angelus gripped her head between both hands, fists in her hair keeping her surprisingly talented mouth right where he wanted –needed— it. His hips started jerking faster and faster, and anything like control became a distant and not very interesting dream as he plunged deeper into Rogue’s mouth, the tip of his cock crashing into the back of her throat as he thrust hard and fast, thigh muscles quivering violently and buttocks clenching hard as he came in a flood of cool semen, surrounded by the vibration of her choking cries. Knowing that it was his petite obsession’s first time to even taste someone’s come just made it all the better.
Something Rogue had done, some movement or sound or touch, suddenly had Angelus’ hands brutally tight in her hair, his cock jerking roughly into her mouth, nearly choking her with his thickness and length, but her ever-ready stubborn streak kicked in, and Rogue was damned if she would back off, ease down, or even consider asking him to be more gentle.
Instead, her hands went from gripping the front of his thighs to clamping at the back of them, pulling him closer as she screamed around his cock, the sound opening her throat wide and letting her devour even more of him. She sank to sit on her heels, and knocked his ankles wider with her knees, just as he spasmed violently and came, his cool spend bathing the raw back of her throat in a sweet-salt wave.
Rogue swallowed instinctively, again and again, until his muscles lost their tension and his softening cock let her drag in a much-needed breath of night air, but when he shifted as though to back away, she didn’t let him, her hands and arms tightening around his legs just as his arm had banded her waist like iron when he tackled her in the street. He wasn’t getting away from her as easily as that, even if his big hands did feel wonderful as they released their fierce grip and stroked easily through her long hair. She licked along his softening flesh, and sucked hard once more, before nipping sharply at the head of his cock and finally releasing him.
The sharp bite on top of the fucking amazing blow job she’d just given him was a shock he hadn’t expected, not even close, and Angelus jerked away from Rogue, already growing hard again at the surprising ferocity she had shown, and the burning hot memory of the way she took his cock all the way, never stopping though he was sure she’d come close to choking more than once.
Rogue’s eyes traveled up his body, admiring the contrast between dark clothes and the pale lines of his hips, thighs, and rapidly swelling arousal, and she licked her lips slowly as she raised her chin and met his eyes with her own. “Think Ah’m flattered,” she purred, her smile slow and wicked.
“I think you have damned sharp teeth,” Angelus returned, his predatory face and gold eyes locked on her, fangs showing slightly as he gave her a smile far more wicked than her own. Lazily, he started to unbutton his shirt, and dropped it where he stood, toeing off his shoes at the same time. “Take off your clothes, Rogue.”
“Ah… beg y’ pardon,” she said, a little confused but nonetheless fascinated as he bared his chest, and started to step out of his already-sagging pants. Always before, he’d had at least some clothes on, their rutting so rough and hungry that he’d never bothered to strip completely, though he’d certainly put paid to her old uniform, peeling it off of her a piece at a time until there was nothing left. But this was the first time Rogue had seen Angelus entirely naked since they’d met on the concrete banks of a canal, and he’d touched her as no one else but Remy ever had.
“Take them off,” he said pleasantly, and straightened, a hint of a growl coming through. “Or you won’t have them any more.” His final word was nothing but a deep male promise, rumbling from his mouth like a force of nature. “Now.”
Her mouth went dry at his beauty, her body tingled all over with painfully intense desire, and her fascinated mind finally made the connection. Rogue tossed her head, sending her hair cascading all around her shoulders as she rose, and began by kicking her boots away.
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Title: Hunter/Hunted, Chapter 10: First
Author:
vikingprincess (chapters 1-8 by both
vikingprincess and adarkershade_x)Fandoms: Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel and X-Men (Comics, main 616 universe)
Characters: Angelus/Rogue, Xander, ensemble from both X-Men and BtVS/AtS
Rating: Adult/NC-17 (nudity, language, violence, sexual situations, death)
Spoilers: Through Season 5 of Angel, final episode. None for X-men, though there are Mutant Registration Act and Civil War connections implied, never explicitly stated.
Updates: Every two weeks on Sunday.
Highlight: For additional warnings. Click the link only for spoilers! There will be character deaths (multiple, in both flashbacks and as the story progresses). IMO, the story’s better if you don’t know ahead of time who has died, or how. If you really want to know so that it doesn’t shock you, you can click here for deaths explicitly mentioned in this and other chapters.
Comments: ARE LOVE!
PLEASE DO NOT ARCHIVE.
All chapters can be found here.
Summary:
In a post-NFA world, Angel has lost everything: his Shanshu signed away, his friends dead... and his soul gone, worn to nothing but rags that aren’t enough to stop Angelus from rising to take control. Humans are hard to find, most far too fragile to have survived the Apocalypse. But a new breed of prey has emerged from the ashes... or perhaps they were there all along. Mutants. Angelus discovers that prey that fights back just… tastes better.
Nuclear War becomes the final solution of terrified humans, running scared from Homo Superior. Billions die to slaughter a few thousands... civilization will never rise again. But in the ashes of a terrifying new world, Rogue discovers that mutants aren't all that humans should have been fearing, and that demons think mutants are just a little more fun to hunt. Rogue would much rather be the hunter than the hunted.
Previously:
He touched her face again, gentle as a butterfly on a flower, and whispered, “I like to have my cake and eat it too, Rogue. Or I would if I still ate, anyway.”
She raised her hand, cupping his fingers to her face, and tilted her head into that touch, savoring it even though she all too well the sort of creature who was touching her… and the kind of creature she was, too. Just like him. Wanting it all, but where Angelus wasn’t held back by raggedly torn remnants of ethics, Rogue still had a conscience. A guilty one. But she couldn’t resist that touch.
He kissed her, gently and thoroughly, letting her sweet and delicate flavors mingle with the memory of the Slayer’s blood on his tongue, and Rogue leaned into the kiss, a hungry, eager participant in her own seduction of the soul –so much more difficult and rewarding than a seduction of the body. “Let me feed from you… and I won’t eat humans.” He smiled wickedly down at her. “Well, unless they’ve done something… really bad.”
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vikingprincessChapter 10:
Rogue blinked up at Angelus, sense and suspicion returning to her eyes in equal measure. “An’ just who gets to define ‘really bad,’ Ah wonder,” she said dryly, and wrapped her fingers around his to pull his hand from her face. He hadn’t been able to sink fang in here any time he’d tried, so why attempt to make such a bargain? It wasn’t as though she’d be able to keep it, unless she were willing to do something so ridiculous as break her own arm! An impossible offer for unfathomable reasons.
“Hey, you invited me to come along… and dragged me over here to talk while you buried the meat,” he pointed out, one corner of his mouth quirking wickedly. “You tell me, Rogue.” And he noted, pleased, that she was still holding his hand.
*
Settling Carrie in sleeping comfort hadn’t taken Xander long. He covered her with a thermal blanket, and moved to stare out of the partially broken bay window of the little family home, watching with one sober brown eye as the crazy woman made Angelus carry Mattie’s drained corpse into another house across the cracked and broken street, then pushed him back outside to disappear within by herself. Seconds later, the house started to collapse, not with the orderly fall of well-laid and planned dynamite for clearing a lot, but in violent shudders and crashes, as though a wrecking ball were attacking it from inside.
She emerged from the wreckage a few minutes later to speak with the murderous vampire, and Xander’s eye widened with disbelief as Angelus kissed her… and she let him.
“Not just Slayer-strong,” he muttered to himself, scratching fretfully beneath his eyepatch, unsurprised at the resentment he still harbored for Angel making Buffy love him all those years ago. Except this wasn’t even Angel. This was Angelus. “Slayer-stupid, too.”
He turned away from the window to take a few precautions, then started to prepare a meal for himself and Carrie, for when she woke. After a moment’s consideration, he increased his preparations to feed three, instead of two. The crazy woman had buried Mattie. He could feed her.
Once.
*
Rogue’s fingers trembled in Angelus’ grip, and she pulled them free, trying to tell herself there was no way he could have noticed such a tiny reaction. It was a feeble lie at best, and she didn’t even believe it herself. “Fine,” she said stiffly, and wondered if she was about to make a huge mistake. “If it’s between me an’ other folks,” she said after a long, long moment. “Then Ah’d rather y’ tried to snack on me.”
Angelus leaned close, his cool lips a breath from her ear, his words stirring the platinum streak that never would stay tucked back. “Where there’s a will… there’s a way. Count on it.”
Her scent rocketed between lust and fear, both spiced with stubborn determination, and he savored the mix like fine wine. Sure, he hadn’t managed to break her skin with his teeth yet, but the tastes he’d gotten when they fought, or when her mother had attacked her, had been more than enough to have him wanting every drop he could get. Besides, she could be cut… her mother had done it with that slender curved blade of that weird metal… which, he recalled, Rogue had some of herself, in the form of a multi-tool… a multi tool with a blade. Perfect.
Rogue turned her head to face him squarely, chin already rising in defiance of what he was making her feel. “Ah did say try,” she emphasized, and pushed him away –not nearly as hard as she could have. His only answer was a smile, small, wicked, and infinitely appealing. Just like Remy’s had been, once upon a lifetime ago.
What am Ah gettin’ myself into, she wondered, an ache in her heart at the reminder of all she’d lost. Trouble was, a dark and eager part of her didn’t care what she’d lost… it only wanted to explore what she’d found.
Rogue turned away, resenting her own confusion and needs, and made her way toward the ramshackle house where Xander had set up camp, and Angelus caught up to her in a couple of strides, trying to work out a way where he could ‘accidentally’ off Xander and the mini-Slayer without alienating his petite little firebrand.
At the doorway, he dropped back and gestured for her to enter, an Old World courtesy intended to keep her just that little bit off balance. “Ladies first,” he purred, and Rogue shot him a glance that blended an irritated frown with raised eyebrows, adorably skeptical, as she stepped past. He chuckled, and followed her.
Or tried to. “What the hell,” he exclaimed, pushing at the hardened air that prevented him from entering, and made even angrier at Xander’s smug look.
“Oh, sorry,” the boy said in his most annoying tone. “Did I forget to mention that before Willow headed off with Buffy, she set up some nice, portable, anti-vamp mojo for the other teams in the field? Never settle for the night without it.” He grinned, baring all his teeth, single eye fierce. Snarling, Angelus slammed his fists into the invisible barrier, eyes burning gold and game-face twisted in a full-on fury. “Oops.”
Rogue looked from man to dead man, forehead furrowed in confusion. “Y’ mean… he can’t co—“ Quicker than she would have thought he could, Xander slapped his bare palm over her mouth, and she jerked back hard in the fraction of a second before her insidious power could activate. “Don’t do that,” she growled, hands up to ward him off.
“Don’t do what, and for God’s sake, don’t ask him in after I just locked him out and threw away the mystical key, because that would be deadly stupid,” Xander replied, every bit as startled at her reaction as she’d been when he touched her. “And I do mean deadly. He may like you –which, wow, the amazing horror of that, because you seem to like him too, which, hello, fast train to wacky-land— but he pretty much hates us and would like to see us dead, in the blood-spraying, dance-around-in-our-entrails way. So, no vampires in the house, ‘kay?”
Still breathing a little unevenly, heart going pitter-pat at the nearness of putting the kid in a coma after everything else she’d inadvertently brought down on him and his girls, Rogue jerked a nod. “Fair enough. He can’t bite me, any road.”
“He’s standing right here,” Angelus bitched, face human again, and sulky with it. “So do you mind?”
Xander chuckled, a dry, humorless sound. “Oh, I mind. I mind everything about you still existing. But better out there than in here.” Dismissing the vampire as though he didn’t exist, purely for the pleasure of hearing Angelus slap his hands futilely against the spell again, Xander turned to Rogue, curiosity all ablaze. “What’s with the no touchy? You didn’t stop fang-boy from making with the smoochies, so… care to share?”
Rogue sighed, feeling a blush steal into her cheeks at the reminder of her rather obvious partiality for the vampire’s touch, and raked her naked hands through her hair. She wished she had some gloves with her, but there hadn’t been a need for them in so long…. “Not especially,” she replied, “but maybe Ah should. Don’t want any accidents. Ah’ll trade y’, Xander. Explain how y’ managed to stop my… companion, out there, and Ah’ll give y’all the Don’t Touch Rogue 101 lecture.”
“Hey,” her vampire said, again dragging her attention over his way. “How come she gets to be inside? Is this another she-demon magnet thing?”
“Ah’m not a demon,” Rogue shot back, affronted. She met Xander’s eye. “Ah’m not,” she said again, surprised to see color rising up his neck in a dull red stain. Was there actually someone else in the world who blushed as frequently –and as badly!— as she did?
“Um,” he said, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “Old news. So old it’s practically decayed. Really not important. At all. So,” he said, voice changing from embarrassed to bright and cheery in a heartbeat, “Who’s hungry?”
“I know I am,” Angelus lied with wicked mendacity, though he was topped off with Slayer blood, just for the fun of watching Xander twitch.
“Ah could eat,” Rogue replied, after giving Angelus a dirty look and receiving one of utter innocence in return, one that made her laugh despite herself, “but Ah don’t have to if y’all are short of supplies.”
“Huh,” said Xander. “No, there’s enough. Come on.” He led Rogue to the stewpot, and invited her to sit with an absurdly gracious wave of his hand. “I left the fine china and linen napkins in my other rucksack,” he informed her, and Rogue grinned as she dropped to sit gracefully cross-legged on the old Army blanket he’d spread out. “So we’ll be roughing it. Dehydrated stuff, all rehydrated and warm if completely bland.”
“Sounds fine t’ me,” Rogue answered around a sudden lump in her throat. The last time she’d eaten in company with anyone at all had been that last breakfast, before the various teams of X-men had separated for their urgent missions. She’d expected never to do it again, and had to sit very still for a moment against the surge of memories it brought, sweet and painful.
Xander served them both, and handed Rogue a steel bowl as he looked over at the sleeping Carrie, whose thumb had crept into her mouth. “Just gonna let her sleep a little more,” he said quietly. Rogue nodded. Sometimes, sleep was the only way to escape what the world had become, and even a small respite could make the difference between living and dying.
Angelus, now at a broken-out window instead of the door, sighed theatrically. “I could help her sleep,” he offered.
Rogue rose on another sigh, and went to the window. “Look here,” she said, very quietly. “Ah want t’ talk to him for a little while. And Ah swear Ah’ll make this very small, very benign piece of neglect up to y’all. Tonight. All right?”
He looked at her speculatively. “You’re… trying to bribe me? Marie, I’m disappointed in you. It’s so… peaceful. Boring, really, considering all the things we’ve… shared….”
Rogue snorted, and before she could think about it too much, her fist shot out through the window and connected with his jaw, snapping his head back. “Is that any better,” she asked sweetly, making sure that none of her hair blew out past the window frame by gathering it in one hand as she looked up at him with a cheeky smile.
He slammed his palms to either side of the window, making the house walls creak with the impact. “Now you’re just getting me hot,” he growled, intrigued at how quickly she’d taken advantage of the dead redhead’s leftover spellwork to make a point. Then again, he already knew she was a fast learner…. Leaning in until his nose pressed against the wall of magic, he whispered, “And I’m gonna make you pay… Marie.”
Rogue shuddered from head to heels, heat licking inside of her with anticipation. “Countin’ on that,” she breathed, swallowing hard. “Now go away. Walk a perimeter ‘r somethin’. Clean up. Somethin’.”
He backed away slowly, letting his hands slide down the wooden frame like a caress, and Rogue’s eyes dilated a little bit as she kept them fixed on his. “Tonight,” he agreed, mind already filling and cock already hardening with delicious anticipation of just what he could do to his sexy little mutant obsession. And what he could make her do to him, if he just manipulated that hungry desire, her scent washing over him like thick, rich magnolia honey.
*
Xander watched the byplay even more intently than before, and when Rogue returned to sit across from him, her jeans-clad knees nearly brushing his camo-clad legs, he commented, “Not that I don’t admire the way you reach out and punch him, but don’t you think it’ll just piss him off?”
Rogue chuckled. “Kinda countin’ on it, actually,” she admitted, and filled her mouth with reconstituted stew.
“Uh-huh,” he replied. “So not asking.” She blushed again, and he raised his eyebrows, patch scraping a bit on his weathered cheek, before changing the subject. “What’s with the not-touching anyone but Deadboy, anyways?”
Rogue swallowed her stew down. “It’s my power,” she said simply, and when all Xander did was gesture with his spoon for her to go on, she did. “When Ah touch a person –a livin’ being, Ah mean, human ‘r demon ‘r mutant, Ah… my skin takes somethin’ from them. Can’t control it; never could. But it can land a body in a coma, or kill ‘em.”
“Suck,” he commented succinctly. “Wait, mutants? You really don’t look like a mutant,” he told her, giving her a frank up and down with his one eye.
Rogue shrugged. “Well, Ah am. And my particular mutation lets me… steal… attributes from folks. Powers from other mutants ‘r demons, life force from everyone Ah touch.” She looked at the now empty window, a small frown furrowing her forehead. “Everyone ‘cept him, apparently.”
Xander rocked back on his butt, thinking. “So… the only guy you can touch without—“
“—Is him,” Rogue agreed, dropping her gaze to look at her bowl. “Don’t know why. Ain't run into another vampire yet, so who knows?” Methodically, she ate more, and didn’t speak again until the stew, bland but warm as advertised, and a soothing weight in her belly, was gone. “Thanks for th’ food,” she said, looking up at last to find Xander’s one eye studying her intently.
“So,” she said, awkwardly.
“Yeah,” Xander replied, still watching her as though he could look inside her brain. Hell, maybe he could, for all she knew; telepathy didn’t often show up as a physical mutation all on its lonesome.
“Um,” she tried again, “How did y’all stop Angelus from comin’ in here, any road?”
“Magic,” Xander said.
“Magic?” Rogue looked at him skeptically. “Really?”
“Cross my heart and plan to not die from a vampire bite,” he returned, actually making the gesture, then stacking their bowls together.
It was Rogue’s turn to say, “Huh. Well, surely have heard of stranger things, even before th’ world… changed.” They shared a quiet silence then, until Carrie whimpered quietly on the nasty old couch where Xander had bedded her down.
He was on his feet in a second, heading for the blonde teenager and resting a big hand on her tangled golden hair. “You’re okay,” he told her soothingly, and the girl rolled over and sat up, knuckling sleep out of her eyes in a way that gave Rogue a pang in the heart for all the students who had died with Storm that first day, crashing in the Blackbird on the way to Area 51 and Fury’s questionable protection.
Biting her lip, she filled one of the bowls up for Carrie, and brought it to her. “Here y’ go, sugar,” she said, and offered food and a spoon with which to eat it. “Ain’t half bad,” she encouraged.
Carrie reached out to take the food, sitting up with the thermal blanket twisted around her, and mumbled through a greedy bite, “Did you dust him yet?”
Rogue looked questioningly at her, and then at Xander. “Dust?”
“She means, have you killed Angelus yet,” Xander explained. “And that would be a no.” He gave Rogue a very level look. “I don’t think she’s going to.”
Rogue shook her head. “Made a deal,” she said, figuring now was as good a time to share that fact as any other, even if it would upset the younger gal. “He’s gonna try to eat me before he goes bitin’ on either of y’all. And since his teeth ain’t strong enough t’ break my skin….” Her voice trailed off, and she shrugged.
Xander and Carrie stared at her. “So,” Xander said at last. “You fly, touch people and suck their lives out, smash buildings into itty bitty pieces, and can’t be bitten by a vampire because your skin is, what… invulnerable?”
Carrie rolled her eyes, and a garbled, “Yeah, right,” came out of her mouth, fortunately with no stew following it.
“That’s about the size of it,” Rogue agreed, a tad embarrassed.
“Like stopping bullets invulnerable?” Xander knew he was geeking out, and he didn’t care. It felt so freaking normal to geek out!
“Well, Ah have done that a time ‘r two,” Rogue admitted, briefly wondering why he was so excited, and then realizing that of course, a normal human in the broken world would appreciate all of those things, instead of being worried that the evil mutant might try to take over the world. Hell, a mutant like her, who’d demonstrated she didn’t want to hurt a human and had gone toe to toe with the vampire this man and girl feared and hated, might even be something like… a hero. Again. Hope blossomed, twining its way alongside the purpose that was taking her and Angelus toward Tahoe.
“So, you’re like the uber- hot version of Supergirl,” Xander concluded gleefully. Just wait until he could get back to Giles! This was big. This was huge!
Rogue blushed. “Exceptin’ that Supergirl ain’t real,” she allowed, “Ah reckon y’ could put it that way.” If her poison skin was left out of the equation, any road….
*
They talked late into the night, sharing information interspersed with Carrie’s constant desire to make with the dusting of Angelus, at least until the girl dropped off again, and both Xander and Rogue were astonished at how narrow their worlds had actually been.
He’d been unaware of the entire mutant issue, focused entirely on Slayer training and recruitment, barely ever reading anything that wasn’t at least a hundred years old or so, or a comic book, as well as battling the demons that Rogue hadn’t even realized existed until the world was broken. She hadn’t ever truly realized there were such things, having figured they were just one-time mutations the few times she'd encountered any such thing before the bombs were set off, and consumed with mutant rights and alien invasions as the X-men had so often been, or that Los Angeles had been an enormous battleground between the forces of capital-G good and capital-E evil, and not the shattered site of a nuclear bomb like other major cities around the world, as she’d previously believed.
And the whole soul-no soul thing that Angelus had alluded to a time or two suddenly came a whole lot clearer, even if it did still sound like a faerie tale to her.
Most importantly, though, she let Xander and Carrie in on her whole reason for traveling toward the town of Tahoe: not just to take down her Mama, as she’d told Angelus, but because those were people who needed help, if the screams and fire in her stolen memories visions had been any indication at all, and because it was a place that could, if she played her cards right, become a sanctuary. A haven in the lost, broken world.
*
“We heard about it,” Xander admitted, as the night turned toward morning and Carrie slept, her head resting on his leg. “Not the whole mutant overlord thing –and I can’t even begin to express the big fun it is to say that, just so you know— but that there was a place that was safe. Well, safe-er. I thought it might make a good base for resting, regrouping, training Slayers… whatever. But now I’m thinking it won’t be so simple. Not a place to just walk into, am I right?”
“Not so much,” Rogue agreed, having picked up the expression from the one-eyed man. “And maybe especially not with just the four of us. But it ain’t altogether impossible, and it surely is worth doin’.” She stood up, stretching out the kinks of the longest conversation she’d had in months, and gave him an understanding look. “Don’t have t’ commit tonight, Xander, or at all, if y’ don’t want to. Ah’d understand wantin’ to stay clear of somethin’ like this. It’s a whole lot more’n a little quixotic.”
“It’s the Angelus angle that’s making me unhappy,” he reminded her, and Rogue’s pretty mouth thinned a bit as she nodded sharply. “You can’t trust him, Rogue. Ever.”
“Likely not,” she agreed, a bit sadly. “But Ah promise Ah’ll keep between y’all, if you do decide t’ come along and risk y’self and her in tryin’ to do this thing. Take care of these for me, will y’?” She took off her doubled belts, and placed them and the pouches they carried gently in his hands.
“Um. For how long? And where are you going?”
“Just ‘til mornin’,” she assured him with a smile. “And not far. Rooftop, Ah reckon, or someplace else in line of sight. Think of it as a guarantee that Ah’ll be back, all right?”
“Okay,” Xander said, the word drawn out by doubt. “Sleep well.”
Already on her way out the door, Rogue blushed. “Sleep ain’t exactly in the plan.”
“I so didn’t want to know that,” Xander whispered, absurdly worried for the invulnerable girl as he coiled her belts around her pouches to lay them carefully in the top of his pack, and got up to double-check the anti-vamp mojo before getting some rest himself.
*
The slight scrape of Rogue’s boots on the shattered street had Angelus’ head jerking up, nostrils flaring and the tiniest of growls coming from his throat. He’d been waiting on the roof for hours, crouching like a gargoyle and listening to her talk and even laugh with damned Xander Lavelle Harris, getting more and more irritated that his sweet and spicy little armful was wasting time on the boy when they could have been spending that time in heated red lust and violent fucking, when he could have been teaching her so much more than he already had.
He wasn’t jealous, no, not at all, Angelus assured himself. Just… irritated. That was it. Irritated. Rogue should learn not to irritate him like that. He’d have to… explain it to her….
With the silent stealth of the predator he’d always been, with the skill of nearly twenty-five decades of hunting and killing, he launched himself from the roof and tackled Rogue hard, one arm wrapped around her slim waist and trapping her arms against her body, the other hand slapping tightly across her mouth, thumb and forefinger pinching at her nose, for silence. The only sounds from his swift attack came after it was already done, a solid, muted thump from their landing, followed by the scrape of bodies across the pavement.
Rogue thrashed in the grip of her attacker, angry at herself for not being more cautious, for letting anticipation of some time with Angelus lower her guard. Since her arms were pinned, and breathing was going to be a problem in another moment, she kicked out with brutal strength as they rolled across the broken asphalt, and tried to bring her teeth to bear on the big hand that was smothering her. If she could just get a good angle, there or with her boots on the ground, there were any number of ways to take down this… whatever it was.
He held on as she struggled, savoring the strong twist and push of her luscious little body against him, taking the kicks and minor bruises of thrashing in the street as fair trade for the primal pleasures of feeling Rogue beneath him, of feeling her lungs desperately heaving for air she couldn’t get, of hearing her heartbeat slamming in a franticly intoxicating thump-thump of fear and anger.
“I hate waiting,” he growled, lips nuzzling the delicate shell of her ear, eager cock pressing hard against the flexing curves of her ass as she struggled.
Rogue shuddered violently beneath Angelus, and then went still with a twisted sort of relief. This wasn’t a random attacker, out to kill her; this was her vampire… which might be even worse. Or much, much better.
Even through the light-headedness of oxygen deprivation, being pinned down by him was exciting her; the rumble of his growl vibrating through her, the touch of his lips at her ear and the hard pressure of his arousal jerking against her rear had her whimpering with desire instead of struggling for survival. Her lips parted beneath his hand, and her tongue flickered out to draw a line of wet heat along his palm.
Angelus growled again, this time in pleasure, and his fingers relaxed enough to allow the beauty beneath him to take in a shaking breath… and then she did it again, nuzzling across his palm with the same rare tenderness that she’d given him the night her mother had attacked her, and taking his thumb between her lush lips, suckling it gently deep into her mouth and nipping delicately at the base.
Undone by the giving sweetness of her mouth, his hips jerked against her ass, and Angelus hauled them both to sit upright in the murdered orange moonlight, dragging her into the cradle of his bent legs, her spine against his sternum, and burying his face in the bend between her shoulder and neck, cool tongue and lips caressing hungrily along her flesh. Rogue moaned, and the sound shot straight to his cock.
She wanted him. Him, not stupid Xander Harris with his idiotic jokes, not the dead French guy he’d scented on her keepsake playing cards. Him, Angelus, soulless and damned and evil as he was, still… Marie wanted him. Without tricks, without games, without power plays, without wanting anything of him but himself. Just the way he was.
No one else had ever wanted him like that, not in all the long years he’d existed.
In a flash, he stood, freeing her arms and waist from his punishing grip, and holding her cradled in both arms instead. Rogue’s head spun, and she drawled, “Well, this here’s diff—“ only to be cut off by his mouth descending on hers with a fire that completely belied the coolness of his lips and tongue. Twisting in his arms, she half-rose to meet his searing kiss, her arms around his neck so tightly if he needed to breathe, he wouldn’t have been able to manage it. Her fists tangled in his hair, and she fought to get closer, deeper, in a way that was strong and vulnerable and desperate all at once.
The kiss went on until he could feel her lungs laboring for air again, and then on a bit more as she refused to give in to that basic need; it went on until Angelus could feel his knees buckling with desire, his cock ready to burst with need, and he ripped his mouth from hers.
“Time for payback, Rogue,” he whispered roughly, and leapt to a mostly-intact roof across the way, still clutching her tight to his chest.
A faint tingle of guilt chased through her system at just how long she had left Angelus alone while she’d been talking to Xander, when she had meant to speak with the boy for only a short time. Problem was, she liked the boy real well; despite his pathological hatred for Angelus, he was a good person. Nothing special about him, really, except his determination to make the world a better place no matter what it cost, and that one wise eye that seemed to understand what was going on in her heart even when she wasn’t entirely sure herself… like a younger Xavier with hair, a California accent, and absolutely no sense of style. But there were other things to think of, just now.
“Cain’t argue with that,” she whispered, and kissed him again, long, slow, and not exactly gentle. His hands tightened at her shoulder and hip, fingers digging in almost hard enough to bruise even her body, and Rogue made a hungry, pleased sound low in her throat, opening her eyes to see that his face was no longer humanly handsome, but that his forehead had gone rough and bumpy, his eyes a golden cat-gleam in the night.
“Put me down,” she said, more breath than words, her body humming with anticipation and nerves, and traced the ridge where his eyebrow had been, just above the shining circle of his right iris. This face was no more frightening than those of many of her mutant friends… and considerably less so than some. “Please.”
“Why should I?” He drew her up closer, rolling her higher on his chest, and if she’d been a normal girl, her ribs would have cracked at the pressure of his embrace.
Rogue licked her lips, her own eyes nearly gleaming, reflecting the shine of his, brighter than the moonlight. “Ah did say please….”
He took her mouth in a swift, savage kiss, letting her feel the prick of his fangs. “You’re pushing it… Marie….” Releasing her legs, he wrapped her torso with both arms, and lowered her slowly, excruciatingly conscious of the scrape of her breasts against his chest, her hands trailing from his neck down along the same path, and the tightening of her thighs beneath the denim she wore as they pressed against his raging hard-on.
Rogue swallowed hard, nipples tight with painful need and center growing hot and wet at the full-body caress, her knees shaky as her feet hit the roof at last. “Y’ are lettin’ me, darlin’….” Without waiting for an answer, she continued downward, until she knelt before him, her hands resting on his belt. Without allowing herself to pause, to give in to the potentially crippling shyness of never having done such a thing before, she undid the leather from the buckle, and lowered his zipper with trembling fingers, blushing fiercely in the dim orange light of the waning apocalypse moon.
His cool strong thighs quivered beneath her fingers, which moved light as moths’ wings as she lowered his pants and his cock sprang free, thick and pale and cool as she rubbed her cheek along that smooth, tight skin, working up her nerve to taking him in her mouth.
Angelus growled in frustrated impatience, and a hard hand twisted in her mingled platinum and dark curls, jerking her head back as he bent over her. “Don’t be a tease, sweetheart,” he began, and then smiled slowly as he took in the rich hot color in her cheeks, the mingled scents of fear and desire rising from her heated skin like thick, musky perfume. “First time, Rogue?”
Humiliated, she tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let her, forcing her swimming emerald eyes to stay locked on his feral golden ones, and her blush intensified as she whispered, “Is, at that.”
He wanted to throw back his head and roar triumph to the starless skies; he wanted to throw her on her back and rip her clothes to shreds, taking her then and there; he wanted to sink his cock and his fangs so deeply into her sweet innocence that he’d never come out again, that he’d mark her as his until she died or he was dust. But Angelus did none of those things. Instead, he pressed the gentlest kiss imaginable to her forehead, tension gripping his entire body from head to toe as he did it, and told her, voice rumbling low and pleased, “Take your time… for now….” His hand loosened in her hair, and he stroked it softly.
A breathless little sound escaped from her wine-red lips, half-laugh and half a sound of tension released, and Rogue smiled shyly up at him before licking her lips –his cock twitched violently at the sexy sight— and running her delicate little fingers along his length before parting her lips and sliding them around the broad head, her mouth hotter than lava as she sealed it around his much-cooler flesh and flicked lightly at the tiny slit with the tip of her tongue.
When she got bolder, taking him slowly and deeply into the hot cavern of her mouth and sucking greedily, his hand went painfully tight in her hair, and he groaned, hips rocking his cock slowly deeper into her mouth, scraping along her teeth with an edge of pleasure-pain that made his head spin.
Pleased at her apparent success in this new erotic art, Rogue hummed around his arousal, and tried to take him deeper still, fingers clenching and relaxing on the long muscles of his thighs as she worked her head back and forth, learning how to snatch breaths around him or through her nose, discovering the amazing variables of texture and taste, scent and sensation that were part of the first oral sex she’d ever given to anyone. Remy included, though the Cajun was far from her mind at the moment, if she could even be said to have a mind just then. Making Angelus respond to her without beating him bloody or scrapping like animals in heat was… curiously enlightening, and definitely arousing. She started to sway in time with his slow thrusts, her deepening swallows, and the place between her legs was soaking and slippery with excitement.
When Rogue sped up, taking him deeper, her tongue and throat and teeth all pulling him into rougher, faster movements, Angelus gripped her head between both hands, fists in her hair keeping her surprisingly talented mouth right where he wanted –needed— it. His hips started jerking faster and faster, and anything like control became a distant and not very interesting dream as he plunged deeper into Rogue’s mouth, the tip of his cock crashing into the back of her throat as he thrust hard and fast, thigh muscles quivering violently and buttocks clenching hard as he came in a flood of cool semen, surrounded by the vibration of her choking cries. Knowing that it was his petite obsession’s first time to even taste someone’s come just made it all the better.
Something Rogue had done, some movement or sound or touch, suddenly had Angelus’ hands brutally tight in her hair, his cock jerking roughly into her mouth, nearly choking her with his thickness and length, but her ever-ready stubborn streak kicked in, and Rogue was damned if she would back off, ease down, or even consider asking him to be more gentle.
Instead, her hands went from gripping the front of his thighs to clamping at the back of them, pulling him closer as she screamed around his cock, the sound opening her throat wide and letting her devour even more of him. She sank to sit on her heels, and knocked his ankles wider with her knees, just as he spasmed violently and came, his cool spend bathing the raw back of her throat in a sweet-salt wave.
Rogue swallowed instinctively, again and again, until his muscles lost their tension and his softening cock let her drag in a much-needed breath of night air, but when he shifted as though to back away, she didn’t let him, her hands and arms tightening around his legs just as his arm had banded her waist like iron when he tackled her in the street. He wasn’t getting away from her as easily as that, even if his big hands did feel wonderful as they released their fierce grip and stroked easily through her long hair. She licked along his softening flesh, and sucked hard once more, before nipping sharply at the head of his cock and finally releasing him.
The sharp bite on top of the fucking amazing blow job she’d just given him was a shock he hadn’t expected, not even close, and Angelus jerked away from Rogue, already growing hard again at the surprising ferocity she had shown, and the burning hot memory of the way she took his cock all the way, never stopping though he was sure she’d come close to choking more than once.
Rogue’s eyes traveled up his body, admiring the contrast between dark clothes and the pale lines of his hips, thighs, and rapidly swelling arousal, and she licked her lips slowly as she raised her chin and met his eyes with her own. “Think Ah’m flattered,” she purred, her smile slow and wicked.
“I think you have damned sharp teeth,” Angelus returned, his predatory face and gold eyes locked on her, fangs showing slightly as he gave her a smile far more wicked than her own. Lazily, he started to unbutton his shirt, and dropped it where he stood, toeing off his shoes at the same time. “Take off your clothes, Rogue.”
“Ah… beg y’ pardon,” she said, a little confused but nonetheless fascinated as he bared his chest, and started to step out of his already-sagging pants. Always before, he’d had at least some clothes on, their rutting so rough and hungry that he’d never bothered to strip completely, though he’d certainly put paid to her old uniform, peeling it off of her a piece at a time until there was nothing left. But this was the first time Rogue had seen Angelus entirely naked since they’d met on the concrete banks of a canal, and he’d touched her as no one else but Remy ever had.
“Take them off,” he said pleasantly, and straightened, a hint of a growl coming through. “Or you won’t have them any more.” His final word was nothing but a deep male promise, rumbling from his mouth like a force of nature. “Now.”
Her mouth went dry at his beauty, her body tingled all over with painfully intense desire, and her fascinated mind finally made the connection. Rogue tossed her head, sending her hair cascading all around her shoulders as she rose, and began by kicking her boots away.
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