(This is in answer to the W/A challenge on btvsgames.)

TITLE: The Proposition


EMAIL: lex@bitchenvy.com


SYNOPSIS: Willow makes a pass at Angel.

DISCLAIMER: <snort> Um, not mine. I'd take Angel in a second, but Joss can keep Willow.

NOTES: This is dedicated to my fellow W/A loathers, particularly Tam and Ryan. This is for you, kids! And this is completely hot off the presses, completely unbetaread.

Clutching his head, Willow ground her lips down onto his, rubbing herself against Angel's stiff form. She moaned, deep in her throat. Neither Oz nor Xander had ever felt like this, all hard, corded muscle just begging to be touched. Keeping her lips mashed to his (because, hey, it wasn't like he needed to breathe), she fumbled at the opening of his shirt, desperate to feel his bare flesh beneath her fingers.

Suddenly, Willow found herself flying through the air. Her back hit the wall opposite the couch in the mansion's living room, and she slid down it to land in a disheveled heap on the ground. Bewildered, she looked up at the vampire. "Angel..." she whimpered, "What...?"

Angel leapt off the couch, bounding to his feet. "Willow, what the HELL was that?" He swiped his hands over his mouth, as though to wipe the taste of her away. "What is wrong with you?"

"But Angel," the redhead whimpered again, "Don't you want me? Everyone wants me. Oz, Xander...and I'm sure Giles wants me too..."

"Want *you*?" Angel stressed, "You?" His tone was incredulous.

Willow began to fidget. "Well, you were nice to me, so that must mean you want me, because everyone wants me. I'm Willow, after all, paragon of womanhood."

Angel shook his head, trying to shake the cobwebs from it. "So you're saying you just threw yourself at me because I was nice to you?"

Wide eyed, she nodded.

"Uh, Willow, I hate to tell you this, but the only reason I'm even nice to you is because Buffy likes you."

"But you *have* to want me!" she whined.

He snorted. "Why would I want *you* when I could have Buffy?"

"Buffy!" Willow sputtered, "But everyone knows your 'love' for her was just a cover for your unrequited passion for me!"

"*What* have you been smoking? I have more unrequited passion for the couch."

"You do love me. See?" She pointed to her face. "Resolve face."

"And this is supposed to mean something to me?"

Willow was completely flabbergasted. Her resolve face always worked. She stood up and tried to walk across the room with her hips swinging, in the sexiest manner she could muster, but unfortunately for Willow, sexy equaled spaz. She tripped over her own feet, clad in those ridiculous sneakers, and landed at Angel's feet. Trying to salvage the moment, she gazed up at him longingly through her red hair.

"Willow," Angel said kindly, "Don't you have somewhere else to be?"

Willow's eyes narrowed. What was wrong with him, couldn't he see that she was a goddess to be worshipped? "But you can't *be* with Buffy...so how about me?"

Angel snickered. "Willow, I plan on spending the rest of eternity at Buffy's side. You're just not my type, dear."

"But...but...I'm *Willow*!" she said, exasperated. Nothing was going like she expected it to. Everything she knew was deserting her.

A new voice cut through Willow's whining.

"Willow, get up. For heaven's sake, stop throwing yourself at my boyfriend." Buffy stormed into the mansion, seriously pissed off. She had witnessed the whole thing, and was not thrilled with Willow at the moment. She stomped over to where Willow still sat, and grabbed the redhead by the collar of her shirt, yanking her off the floor.

Buffy held Willow up just by her grip on the collar of the absurd shirt the other girl was wearing. Shaking Willow violently, she said very clearly, "If you don't get your skanky ho self out of this house right this minute, I won't be responsible for what I do."

Willow tried to speak, but Buffy shook her harder. "Are we *clear*, Willow?" Buffy growled, "Do we *understand* that making a pass at your friend's boyfriend is wrong? But then, we probably should ask Cordelia about her opinion on that topic."

Tears spilling down her face, Willow nodded frantically. Buffy released her grip, and once again, Willow fell to the floor with a thud. The second she felt the ground beneath her, Willow scuttled off, afraid of Buffy's wrath.

When they heard the front door clang shut, Buffy turned to Angel. "What was that about?"

Her lover shrugged. "I don't know. She showed up, asking me if I need help with anything, and when I told her no, she flung herself on me and started kissing me. It was freaky."

Buffy's lips curved upwards in a smile.

He grimaced. "She's not exactly my type." He swiped at his mouth again. "And she slobbered all over me."

"Awww, poor baby," Buffy cooed as she wrapped her arms around him. "What exactly is your type, handsome?"

Angel grinned wickedly at the woman in his arms. "Oh, you know, small, blonde, hazel eyes, amazing muscle tone inside and out...strong enough to make me do what she wants..."

"Gee, sounds just like someone we know..."

"Doesn't it, though?" He lowered his mouth to touch hers. He kissed her hard for a moment, ridding himself of the other taste.

"Willow had just better find some other hunk to throw herself at, 'cause you're all mine, baby."

Angel swept her up in his arms, and carried her upstairs to the bedroom. "I wouldn't have it any other way."




Yes, I loathe Willow. What of it? <BG>

Praise, flames, and death threats to me at lex@bitchenvy.com.