Tenderness
by TnBella

SUMMARY: Before the final battle with the Senior Partners, Wesley and Illyria spend some time together.

PAIRING: Wes/Illyria

RATING: FRAO [ESS] [A] [AU]

SPOILERS: Through “Not Fade Away” in Season 5.

DISCLAIMER: Angel and its characters belong to Joss Whedon and ME.

CHALLENGE: Written for the Illyria ficathon - Wesley tells Illyria he loves her (and she isn't pretending to be Fred when he says it)!

DEDICATION: This is for gwynnega. (I would also like to thank Lara, my beta, for her help.)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is AU and takes places after the last scene between Wes and Illyria in Spike’s apartment.

“Is it better?” Wesley asks.

Illyria places her hand over the cloth on her neck. “It’s better,” she replies.

For several seconds, they stare at one another until he breaks the silence. “Ahem…well, I should let you rest. Just because you used to be a god, doesn’t mean that you don’t need to recuperate, especially given the ordeal you just went through.”

Rising, Wesley carefully removes the healing strips to re-examine the wounds. Illyria tries to ignore the warm feeling she gets as he touches her. Even though, she would never admit to it outright a part of her enjoys the contact. The fact that he’s helping her at all confuses her greatly, though. Then again, everything with Wesley was a mystery. He had been furious, when she had transformed into Fred during the Burkles’ visit. Since that happened, he pretty much ignored her when she was around…until, now.

**************************************************************

Wesley doesn’t know how, but Illyria’s eyes have a hypnotizing effect on him. He practically has to force himself to think up an excuse to leave. He can’t bear looking into her crystalline orbs and seeing all the emotions that have begun to surface. Right now, he can clearly see shame and pain; however, if he stares long enough, he swears he can see love there, too. Wes quickly shakes off the thought, and once he is satisfied with the way her wounds are mending, he turns to exit the room when suddenly, Illyria speaks.

“I want you to stay,” she says, her voice tiny and child-like.

His heart and feet don’t want to cooperate with his brain, because in two easy strides, he’s sitting next to her on the small bunk-bed. “All right…if that’s what you wish, then I’ll stay.”

Illyria almost smiles but stops it before it can reach her lips. Instead, she answers, “Yes, that is what I wish.”

He nods in acquiesce. “Very well. Why don’t you lie back and rest for a bit. I want you good and healed when Angel and the others return later.” Illyria cocks her head like she’s trying to comprehend what he just said. Wesley interprets her silence as a sign of being stubborn, so he tries a more direct approach. “Illyria, you need to rest.”

This seems to spur her into motion as she attempts to find a comfortable position by wriggling around on the squeaky mattress with a scowl on her face. Wesley chuckles, but this only serves to deepens her scowl and after several more unsuccessful attempts to get herself settled, Illyria huffs in frustration at both the noisy bed and the laughing man to her left. Finally, Wesley takes pity on her and lies down beside her. Illyria nearly jumps at this new, unexpected development, but he calms her with a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“It’s all right, Illyria. I’m only trying to help you relax.” He turns her onto her side, spooning behind her with one hand wrapping around her waist while the other strokes her hair. “Shh…close your eyes,” he whispers, garnering a contented sigh from the usually, unyielding ex-goddess. Within a few moments, she’s sound asleep, cradled in the arms of her protector…her guide.

**************************************************************

Midway through her nap, Illyria flips over to snuggle into Wesley’s chest. He drops a kiss on her head, thinking about how much she has changed in such a short period of time. What happened to the ‘monumentally, self-possessed’ demon-goddess? When did she change into the fragile, little creature that was currently making snuffling sounds into his sweater? There’s something about her…something that makes her seem almost innocent and precious. Wesley remembers the anger he felt when he saw Illyria’s body lying broken on the floor. He vowed then and there to do a better job of caring for her. He has been neglecting his duty because of Illyria’s experiment in front of the Burkles. He looks down at her, and she wakes looking up at him in return. She blinks a few times before reaching out with a tentative, gloved hand to touch the side of his face. He doesn’t move an inch; he just lets her explore.

Illyria removes the gloves from her hands and cups his face as if it’s made of spun glass. She wants to take his pain away so badly, but she realizes that will never be possible as long as she is alive and Fred is not. Her eyes begin to brim with tears. She has caused this beautiful man more pain than should be allowed. She regrets that; however, it’s too late to be thinking such things. What matters, is she understands that now.

Illyria leans close and presses her lips to his in a benediction.

Wesley is definitely not prepared for the sweetness of the kiss, but before he can fully realize what he‘s doing, he kisses her back. The kiss grows in intensity…building into a crescendo of emotion and sensation. His clothes and her armor are quickly removed as Wesley studies all the beautiful blue on her skin. He traces a finger down the middle of her chest and follows the outlines and shadings until they disappear into the fur of her sex, smiling slightly at her surprised gasp in response. He changes direction to run both hands across her strong thighs and shapely legs.

Once he has mapped out her body, Wesley hovers above Illyria and whispers, “Is this what you meant, when you said you wanted to explore things further?”

**************************************************************

His voice travels over her like a gentle breeze, soothing and arousing her at the same time. Illyria answers him.

“Yes, this is an accurate depiction of the image I conjured in my mind. But you said you did not want this. I am confused.”

“I think I might have been a bit hasty with that decision,” Wesley explains. Reaching to pinch and roll one pert nipple, he continues, “You may not be what I want, Illyria...but right now, you’re what I need.” She goes to speak but he fastens his lips onto hers, diving his tongue into the cavernous spaces inside her mouth. He squeezes and caresses her breasts then shifts his body into alignment with hers. He breaks the kiss for a moment to take her legs and wrap them around his waist as he thrusts into her. He waits until she recovers from the intrusion and relaxes again, and then he resumes.

Illyria moans with each thrust. He is completely taking over her senses. She can feel a stirring begin slowly at first, but when he speeds up, the stirring gets stronger. There’s an explosion of emotions building to a volatile level deep down. She arches her back and raises her hips higher to keep him connected to her.

Wesley observes the different expressions that flash across her face while he drives into her again and again. He can tell she’s getting close, but he has one more thing to do. He captures her lips in a slow sensual kiss and whispers, “I love you,” before they reach their climax.

In all her years as a ruler, Illyria has never experienced ‘love’. Worship and Adoration, she knows these words, well. But, love? Never. Then, Wesley came along with his mysterious darkness and beautiful pain and suddenly, Illyria found herself longing to be with him. She has gotten her wish, if only for this night, and that's enough for her. He said he loved her and it didn’t matter if it was a lie or not because to Illyria, it is her truth.

Wesley pulls her onto her side while still inside her, drawing circles on her blue speckled back until they’re both asleep again.

**************************************************************

The first thing Illyria notices is the emptiness of the bed, and the next is Wesley’s absence. It takes her a few seconds to locate him. He is walking into the room with a deep frown on his face.

“Angel rang me. He wants to have a meeting with all of us. Everyone’s on their way. You should get ready.” He starts to leave but turns to face her once more. “Illyria, I meant what I said. It’s just…we have a job to do. Understand?”

She stands, covers herself with the protective armor of the body suit, and joins Wesley in the doorway. “I understand. Let’s go.”

Illyria smiles, reassuringly. She is pleased with what transpired between them.

As they make their way out to the den area, Illyria silently thanks Wesley for his compassion, his wisdom, his tenderness, and most importantly, his love.

She understands...more than he will ever know.

© July 2004

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