Is this hell?
The kiss came hot and fast. The lips were familiar, the shoulders and neck that she gripped were the same. But all was different. And how could it be right? But she had to know. If this was it, the end for them both – surely she had the right to it.
She felt fangs in his mouth. They cut her, but she didn't pull away. She didn't want to break the kiss and neither did he.
Would Willow's spell work in time?
She heard the snarl. Felt it creep up his throat. Guttural and animal. Was he enjoying this?
Acathla was coming to life behind them. A demonic vortex swam and rippled, just waiting to suck the world into hell. And she stood selfishly by – kissing her lost love. Kissing the thing that killed him because she couldn't bear the separation any longer. And he kissed her back.
It was like dying.
She felt everything that she knew coming to an end.
She stumbled forward into his body. She felt small against him, while his body remained firm and comforting. Supportive – he caught her and held her steady.
It felt like he was smiling. Was he enjoying this? He had triumphed The Slayer. This was worse than death. It was complete surrender – the surrender to her darkest desires. All of her beliefs, her rules toppled and tumbled like an avalanche. She found herself sighing out his name –
Angel.
It didn't exactly reverberate from the walls. It was no cry of ecstasy or conclusion.
It was only the beginning of the end.
Xander crossed the courtyard. Fallen leaves scraped the ground, the wind dragged them mercilessly back and forth – there was no other sound to be heard. Acathla stood dormant, quiet and undisturbed as though the earth had never been at risk. But it had. He had left, with a bloodied Giles under his arm while Buffy fought for her life. It had been chaos but a few short hours ago. Swords had rung a loud song of death. And now? Where is she?
"The spell didn't work." Willow looked up into her friend's sombre faces. "I didn't feel anything."
"You don't know that," Oz said. He laid a comforting hand on her shoulder but she only shook her head.
"Buffy would have called. She would let us know if it had been in time. Or if it worked at all."
"Or she would be wandering off with him, selfishly, leaving us all in suspense."
Willow frowned at Cordelia's remark. She gave a toss of her thick dark locks as though that helped prove her point.
Angelus brushed a silken lock from Buffy's face. He kept her body locked in an iron grip as he gently moved himself a part from her. Where he could gleefully study her.
"Angelus," He whispered back. A slight frown formed at her brow but she remained still against him.
"Does that trouble you, lover?"
The vortex hissed, she could feel it's strength at her back – pulling them both towards it. She found herself wondering what hell was like. Was it like this? Was it looking love in the face and knowing you could never have it. Was it lying to yourself so that you would never be without…
"That thing wants your blood," She said it quietly. His yellow, vampiric eyes still regarded her. He was smiling.
"Acathla will have the world."
"What does hell mean to you that you would have it here? What does it prove? What do you gain by it?"
"Is this your attempt to reason with a vampire?"
"No, I'm reasoning with you. Is there nothing more that you want, nothing else that this world has to offer you but hell?"
His grip on her was becoming painfully tight. Her arms ached but she couldn't have him letting her go. She blinked and his face shifted. She stared into those angelic features once more. Human and naïve.
"Come on, Buff. You don't want to ruin all the fun we're going to have."
"Fun? Do you think they'll make you king? You're as dead as the rest of us."
"Been dead a while or hadn't you noticed?"
He looked up, past her. His and her fate, and all the world's regarded him. Stone faced and open mouthed. So it was the end for them.