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And All Our Regrets Shall Than Be Forgotten

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Willow looked at Angel, longing in her big brown eyes. Scratch that, as she tossed her red hair over her shoulder and decided to go for it. She'd spent the last few years of her life trying to reconcile her past and do all those things she said she'd eventually do. Even if her Aunt Ruth whispered prayers or possibly curses in Yiddish when she'd brought Kennedy to Cousin Samuel's bar mitzvah.

Angel was the final mark on her list. An easy target after Buffy told him exactly where he could stick it and swearing enough to make even those who had attempted to destroy the world blush.

They sat next to each other in the burnt out hole that was the former office of the Hyperion. Books scattered from one direction to the other. Xander had sworn up and down that it wasn't he who used the flame thrower in the office and melted Angel's favorite sword.

Angel handed her a gin and tonic and tossed back his own.

"Umm, Angel." Willow wanted to say that drinks and her didn't always mix well. That she was making a checklist and one of those check marks included kissing him. But they both keep drinking, a lot more, and maybe the room got a little spin-y.

"She really left." Angel leaned in his chair like he was going to place his head on Willow's shoulder. He was bigger, more massive than Willow remembered. He looked good.

Willow found her lips pressing against Angel's and his tongue invading her mouth. Vampires weren't as cold to the touch as she'd thought; Angel was rather pleasant, more than pleasant. She moaned into his mouth as his hand unbuttoned her shirt and slid under her blue bra.

Angel pushed her down on the desk, the day planner digging into her ass. Her hands splayed outwards, trying to regain her balance, shoving papers and books everywhere. She squirmed, breaking their kiss, when she heard his belt buckle clank against the desk, his boxers peaking out.

Willow's shirt crumpled under her thighs, underwear torn in half. She wanted this, wanted him more than she'd expected, only looking for a kiss. She'd never realized just how beautiful he was or that he might've actually wanted her.

Angel growled against her neck, a shiver going through her body. And she gasped as his cock filled her. "God," he groaned. The desk creaked under them as he began to thrust.

Willow whimpered; her body pinned and under his control. Not that she couldn't change their positions with a few words. He felt large and heavy. She hadn't had sex with a man since Oz, and Oz fit here whereas Angel overwhelmed her. He burned through her body, hot, forceful, and magical, his thumb pressing against Willow's clit. "Angel," she said while coming.

The desk quaked. Angel's body trembled, and he slumped over her before pulling out and zipping up his pants. "I'm sorry. I-" He didn't look up at her.

Willow's sandals hit the floor with a clank. She felt stickiness on her thighs and reached for a tissue to clean herself. "I kissed you, Angel." Her head hurt with the beginnings of a hangover; she wondered if he'd even been drunk. She could still taste the gin and tonic.

"I know." Angel's shoulders slouched, making him look shorter than he was.

And Willow smoothed out her skirt and fixed her top. She felt the far away look in his eye before she saw it.