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Dangerous	By : addielogan Category: Angel the Series > Het - Male/Female Views: 3801 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Angel: The Series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Anne opened her eyes slowly, blinking before she sat
straight up, gaping at what she saw. She must've been more deeply asleep than
she'd thought, because Connor had managed to move most of the furniture in the
room in front of the door, effectively barricading them in. She cursed under
her breath as she turned to look at Connor beside her who was seemingly
sleeping peacefully.

With a grumble, Anne climbed out of the bed and walked over
to the pile of furniture. She had her hand on the first chair to move it when
she felt Connor grab her and pull her back from the pile. She turned to see
him, his features set in determination as he shook his head.

"Connor, you can't just trap us in here!" Anne
exclaimed, snatching her arm away from him. "For one thing there's no
food. If nothing else, we'll starve!"

Connor's expression didn't change, and Anne sighed, knowing
he didn't understand her at all. "This�" she said as she gestured to
the furniture blocking the door, "Is bad.
Do you get that? Do you understand bad? It's�not good. No." She
started trying to clear the space again, only to have Connor lift her off her
feet, carry her back to the bed, and sit her down there.

Anne took a deep breath, trying to will herself to stay
calm. A muscle in her jaw ticked as she cocked her head from side to side,
reigning herself in. "Connor�you can't�" Her fists clinched.
"Bloody fucking hell."

Connor stood in front of her, arms crossed. If he understood
nothing else, he did know this was a battle of wills.

Anne didn't know what to do. She could try to wait until he
was asleep and move the furniture back, but he tended to be a light sleeper and
would probably stop her before she got very far. And even if she did manage to
clear a path to the door, Connor would only put it all back the first chance he
got. She had to convince him that they needed the door unblocked. How on earth
was she going to manage that without using language? Draw him a diagram of them
perishing in a fire because they couldn't get out the door?

Anne dropped her head into her palms. This was more trying
than she'd thought it would be, and she knew she was at the end of her rope.
She looked back up, noting that Connor hadn't budged. "God, I wish you
understood sodding English. Well, guess it is pictures after all."

Anne walked over to her things and dug around in the pocket of
her bag until she pulled out a pen. She cursed when she couldn't find any
paper, but decided she didn't really give a damn about damage to Angel's
property, she could just as well write on the walls. First, she drew a crude
image of the door with furniture piled in front of it and an angry stick figure
with long hair. Beside it, she drew a door with no pile and a happy long-haired
stick figure. She turned to Connor and gestured to the one with the furniture.

"This is bad. Bad."
To emphasize her point, she crossed the picture out with a large, angry X,
repeating the motion several times. Then, she turned to the other. "And
this, is good. Good." She
circled the picture with the clear door. "See�this Stick-Anne is
happy." She pointed to the other side again and frowned. "And this
Stick-Anne is very, very cross. You don't want cross Stick-Anne�or cross real
Anne. Got it?"

The only indication Anne got that Connor was even aware she
was addressing him was the one eyebrow that rose. Other than that, he continued
to stare, arms squarely crossed.

Anne threw her hands up. "Fine! We'll just die of
starvation or a fire or something in
here. Sounds bloody lovely!" She sat down on the bed, arms crossed over
her chest in much the same way Connor's were.

Connor sighed and came over to sit beside her. He tried to
reach out and pat her back, but Anne jerked from the touch, turning her head so
she wasn't facing him, missing the wounded look on his face.

"Anne?"

Anne turned back around at Connor's soft use of her name.
He'd spoken it so rarely since he'd come back, and it made her heart tighten to
know he still knew who he was. She could tell now that none of what she'd
said�or drawn�had gotten through to him at all, his expression clearly
depicting confusion over her anger. She sighed. "I know you're just trying
to look out for us, I do, but�" Her lip trembled, and she struggled in
vain to keep tears out of her eyes. "I can't just stay in here until we
find a way to fix you, Connor. I can't.
I need to see my parents. Please, just try to understand this� Let me move the
furniture. Please�"

Connor frowned. He hadn't expected her to be so upset.
Didn't she understand it wasn't safe out there? Something had torn them apart
before, and he still didn't know what it was. Could it still be out there? He'd
spent every day he could remember fighting, struggling just to stay alive. He
didn't know where they were now, but it was the first time in so long that he'd
felt even marginally safe. He couldn't allow any of the bad things he'd come to
know in here to hurt Anne.

But now she was crying, and Connor knew the wall he'd built
had caused this. With a resigned sigh, he stood, going over to the pile and
putting the pieces back where he'd found them. He'd just have to be more
diligent than he had been, guard the door and make sure nothing got inside with
them.

Anne smiled when she saw what he was doing and made a sound
that sounded soft and kind, and Connor smiled back at her, willing to do this
if it could make her happy.

*** *** ***

Anne was bored. Connor had taken the furniture away from the
door, but now he was camped out in front of it, staring at it like it could
transform into a demon and eat them both at any second.

She'd never been one to stay cooped up. It wasn't in her
nature. She needed to move, to have the freedom to come and go as she pleased.
She'd been that way even as a small child, getting into trouble with her father
time and time again for wandering away from their flat at all hours of the day
and night. It had been especially bad when he'd made the mistake of teaching
her how to disguise her scent in case she was being chased by a predator and
she'd used the technique to hide from him. She'd thought of it as a game. He'd
gone into a full-blown panic.

Connor had brought her back. It had been when he'd been
staying in London, and he'd been the one to find her. He'd carried her back to
her father and asked with a small grin if Spike had lost something. It wasn't
the only time Connor had been the one to find her when she'd wandered off, and
Anne wondered now if maybe she'd been unconsciously seeking him out, even then.
She knew she'd taken to him almost immediately, welcoming him into their home in
a way she rarely did with strangers.

Unlike Angel, whom she'd kicked in the shin and informed
that her daddy had been right about him�he was a poncy git. Or so she'd been
told. She didn't remember the encounter, but it seemed like everyone else
involved did. Her father found it hilarious. It still made Angel glare.

Anne looked up sharply when there was a knock on the door.
Connor leapt to his feet, ready to spring into action and Anne went over to
him, putting her hand on his shoulder. "It's okay. Just calm down."
She tried to open the door, but Connor stopped her, pulling her back and
shaking his head. Anne sniffed the air and recognized the scent outside the
room. "Connor, it's my friend�Rebecca. She won't hurt us. She's a
friend�"

She tried to go towards the door again, but Connor blocked
her way, his eyes wild. "Dammit, Connor, I'm not going anywhere!"
Anne yelled, her patience with this at its breaking
point. "I'm just going to open the door and talk to her!"

"Anne?" Rebecca called. "Are you all
right?"

"I'm fine, Becca," Anne called back.
"Connor's just being a little�difficult."

"Should I come back later?"

Anne sighed. The last thing she wanted to do right now was
send Rebecca away, but with the way Connor was acting now, she wasn't even sure
what he'd do to anyone who tried to come into the room. She hated to think it,
but opening the door could be putting Rebecca in danger. "Might be for the
best," Anne replied. "Sorry�"

"It's all right."

Anne heard Rebecca's footsteps retreating down the hall and
she turned towards Connor, her arms crossed. "There, she's gone. Are you
happy now?"

Connor frowned, his brow knitting.

"God, I just wish you could bloody understand me."
Anne snapped, then stormed over to the bed and sat down in a huff. Connor
walked over to her and placed his hand on her shoulder, but she nudged him off,
turning to face him. "Can I have just one sodding minute to myself? You're
driving me up the bloody wall!"

Connor pulled back, his expression one of hurt and confusion
as he slunk off away from her and went back to sit by the door. Anne let out a
deep breath, immediately feeling bad for snapping at him. She wanted to take
care of him, and she knew that he was just as frustrated as she was, but she
wasn't sure how much of this she could take.

But what else could she do? She had no way of really
communicating with him, of letting him know what was safe and what wasn't. He
was like a child. A very strong, very stubborn child.

But even with the difficulties, there was no way she could
simply walk away from this. She was the only person Connor trusted; she
couldn't abandon him. Leaving Connor now would make things even worse for him
than they already were. And who would she leave him with anyway? Angel? She'd
seen how easily Angel had hurt Connor downstairs, no regard at all for the
fragile state his son was currently in.

All she could do was hold on and hope that things got better
before she went completely out of her mind.

She looked over at Connor, her heart hurting at the sight of
him there in front of the door, his knees pulled to his chest. She offered him
a tiny smile and opened his arms out to him, hoping he could accept her silent
apology.

He did, a look of relief flooding his features before he
hurried over to her and wrapped his arms tightly around her to hold her close.
Anne knew her outburst had to have confused him, since he couldn't possibly
understand why she'd be upset at what he probably saw as an effort to protect
her. She ran her fingers through his hair, trying to soothe him, to let him
know that she did love him.

Connor lowered her back down to the bed then pulled up,
looking down at her hesitantly, asking her for permission with his eyes. Anne
knew he needed the connection, the reassurance she could only give him now with
her body. She answered him with a spread of her legs, wrapping them around his
hips and pulling him close. Connor sighed in relief and dipped his head to kiss
her lips.

His touch was the gentlest it had been since he'd come back,
as if he was afraid he'd do something to push her away again. Anne moaned into
his mouth, letting him know that she did enjoy and welcome his touch.

Connor worked to strip them both of their clothes, and
Anne's hands quickly joined the effort, until there was nothing between them
once again. He slid into her with a grunt, and Anne winced at the sudden
penetration but didn't push him away. She knew it wouldn't be long until his
thrusts worked her into a frenzy.

And it wasn't. She was soon panting and writhing beneath
him, begging him for more. Connor wrapped his arm around her, pulling her chest
to his as he moved, wanting her as close as he could get her. Anne licked and
nipped at his neck and collarbone, making Connor growl and thrust harder. She
could get lost in this so easily, could so quickly submit to the feel of being
with him.

They came together, their cries of completion sounding in
unison, and Connor collapsed, his breathing harsh against the curve of her
neck. Anne held him until he re-hardened inside of her, his strong thrusts
starting anew. She surrendered to the feel of him completely, knowing the only
thing that would keep her sane right then was not thinking at all.

*** *** ***
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Dangerous