The Most Powerful Drug
by Lara

SUMMARY: “He’s discovered something of hers that’s even more intoxicating, more arousing than a simple touch or smile.”

RATING: FRM [SS] [V] [AU]

WARNING: Dark, sexually-charged imagery

PAIRINGS: Wesley/Fred, Angel/Lindsey (mentioned)

SPOILERS: Through Season 5 “Destiny”.

DISCLAIMER: I only wish I were as successful as Joss Whedon. He and Mutant Enemy own this; I just write fanfic for fun while waiting for my own big break.

DISTRIBUTION: Permission granted to the usual haunts plus Signe’s Intoxication Challenge site. If anyone else wants to archive it, please let me know.

FEEDBACK: Very much appreciated. Please e-mail lara@darling-moon.com. Flames, however, will be used to fuel the fire in Wesley’s next spell casting session.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Fic for Signe’s Intoxication Challenge – Of Blood and Wine. Optional Inspirational Phrase: “Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind.” ~ Rudyard Kipling

He remembers the time they were both intoxicated, made so by Lorne’s words, and words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind – or demonkind, for that matter. This is something he’s long known, given his knowledge of languages, how words create meaning and meaning creates response. That night, when Lorne spoke, they both responded, becoming drunk in a matter of minutes, losing their wallflower inhibitions, touching and holding each other with a promise later broken by a few careless words.

The power to intoxicate. The power to sober. The power to charm.

Not that he ever needed words when it came to her. A smile from her would usually be enough to overwhelm him and make his heart beat faster. A whiff of her perfume could send his senses spinning. A tear would bring out the defender in him, the intense need to protect her from harm. And a touch – her touch – did more to him than he could ever explain. He’s always known that he would do anything for her, and he has.

Perhaps Kipling was wrong after all. Words aren’t the only powerful drug in use, at least not by women. Certainly not by her.

And now he’s discovered something of hers that’s even more intoxicating, more arousing than a simple touch or smile. It washes over him like a fine vintage wine from his father’s cellar and floods his senses. It’s sweet and heady and so unmistakably her, something he can never share with anyone else, he decides when she shudders in his embrace, crying out his name. Shifting, he holds her to his chest, sighing at the gentle kissing and sucking that send delicious sensations shooting through him.

A moment later, she lets out another cry before falling slack in his arms, her eyes closing. With a smile, he rests her down on the couch in his office and strokes her long hair back from her face. They’ve been playing this game for so long – him loving her in silence from afar while she let others not worthy of her catch her. Well, now he’s caught her and, unlike the others, will never let her go.

“So, Wesley,” a voice speaks up from the office doorway. “I see you’ve finally gotten over your...shyness with her.”

He raises his head and smiles, licking a drop of blood from the corner of his mouth and savoring the taste. “Just claiming what should have been mine long ago.”

Angelus returns the smile with a pleased smirk. “My boy’s all grown up and made himself a playmate.”

“More than that.” Running a hand up her leg, he finds his mind spinning with everything they’ll be able to do together.

“Ah, but you will play. You’ll see. And speaking of playmates, where’s mine run off to?”

“I saw Lindsey heading upstairs earlier. He’s probably waiting in your suite.”

“Good. Why don’t the two of you come up later.” He casts an approving glance over both of them. “We’ll...discuss things.”

With that, Angelus disappears, leaving Wesley sitting in the darkened office. As he watches her, his hands continue to caress over her, and he can feel that her heart has stopped beating and her blood has stopped flowing. Now he waits for Winifred to wake, so they can share this wonderful intoxication together.

Oh, yes...Kipling was most definitely wrong.

© January 2004

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