One-shot written while procrastinating. Not Mine. Post OMWF but no spoilers for nearly anything, and you didn't need to see the epi.
When Buffy woke from the dead for the third time, there were cool arms around her waist and a familiar face looking anxiously into hers.
She sneezed, and her face felt funny.
"Angel?" she asked. He smiled and it was so beautiful her eyes hurt.
"Almost babe, almost," he said with a gentle smirk. Her lips curved into a smile.
"Angelus."
He kissed her, nipping and biting at her lips, his tongue coming into play with hers, twining and twisting. She moaned.
"Mmm," he said. And gently slapped her on her thigh.
"Up with you lass," he said, "As much as I'd love to play, you really need to hunt." She cocked her head and nodded. Shimmying up from under the sheets of a bed she hadn't seen in years.
"The apartment?" she questioned. He shrugged.
"Figured no one would look here," he replied. She nodded, sitting up.
"Where are my clothes?" she asked. He glanced at the floor and she followed his gaze. They were bloodstained and torn beyond repair. He smirked.
"I think you still have some here," he said and went to rummage though the drawers, pulling out a shirt for him and finding an old mini and a lacy white top. He shrugged.
"Good enough for now," he said, tossing her the clothes while he buttoned up his shirt. She raised an eyebrow.
"I don't have underwear or a bra," she pointed out. He frowned. In the end, her bra was salvageable. It was fortunate that it came off easily, or it might have gone the way of her panties in his haste.
They walked down the street after she had finally been able to put away her game face.
"I can't believe you didn't even leave Dawn," she complained. He rolled his eyes.
"Hey, I was protecting us both. All of your silly slayerettes are dead and no one can stuff our souls back into us," he responded.
"True," she said.
"And all the Fang Gang knows is that Angel had an urgent errand to run and that due to the sunlight, Soul Boy would be unable to make it back until Tuesday," he added with a cocky smirk.
"Oh," she breathed. He continued to smirk.
"I guess it's time to pay them a visit," he said.
Cordelia was the only one left alive, and she was now straining to take her last breaths. Buffy watched her with dark green eyes that glittered with malice. Angelus watched her with pride.
"So that's the end, Cordy dear," she spoke softly. "You die alone in a basement, while I died in the arms of my lover, only to awaken to eternity. Do you still think you've won Angel, silly girl?"
"I should thank you," Angelus spoke, with a voice that slid through the ears like a mocking caress. This may have been Buffy's show, her supposed rival (not that there had ever been any competition), but he was still the master here.
"Were it not for you selfish cruel desire to taunt my love, then we wouldn't even be here. You'd still be pining after Soul Boy, and he'd still be helping the helpless," he continued. He'd never have heard Buffy break down without him there. Never have been driven to her side. And they'd never have selfishly, desperately, willfully given in to their mutual need and consummate the love that still tugged through their veins.
"And I'd be helpless to kill you," Buffy said softly. "Bound by an absurd moral code." She snorted. "I'm powerful. I take what I want now."
Angelus cocked his head and considered that.
"It's really more me taking you, lover," he said. Buffy shrugged.
"True. But I still get whatever I want now," she replied. He kissed her neck and drew her closer as the pounding of the bitch seer's heart sputtered.
"Anything you want baby, anything you want"
There were no more heartbeats in the basement.
They'd gone to some swanky club in L.A. after Cordelia had done the world a favor and died. They'd showered and washed the blood from underneath their nails, and Angelus and dressed her in white.
"You look like an innocent angel," he'd told her. She had kissed her dark angel senseless and ruined the pretty dress before they'd made it out the door, but second time had been the charm.
They'd redressed and danced to an exquisite jazz trio. She'd teased him about finding something like the Bronze and he'd laughed.
Things were different. Things were perfect.
"I've got a theory," he breathed into her ear. She giggled against his chest.
"It doesn't involve dancing demons, does it?" she asked. He looked momentarily confused.
"What?"
"Nothing," she giggled. "I'll tell you later,"
"Mmm," he said, inhaling the scent of her hair.
"I think you were meant to be with me like this," he said. "I think this whole soul shebang was the prelude, baby, this is what we're meant to be,"
"Free," she said.
'Exactly," he agreed. "We'll have forever." She smiled mysteriously and he wanted for a single absurd moment to drown in the green depths of her eyes. He shook it off; this love stuff was making him corny.
"Forever," she sighed, "That's the whole point."
R&R Please