Title: The Token

Author: Jude (Sk8erGurl24)

Disclaimer: Does it look like I own anything? No? Good. 'Cause I don't... The Santiago Mines are not real mines, I made them up because I wanted mines, couldn't find much on Google, and like the name Santiago...

Summary: When two outlaws come to town looking for a mystical gem with special powers, it's up to Buffy, Angel, and the rest of the gang to stop them. Third book in my Gealach Gorm series! BA, WO, XA

Note: Woo! I got loads of positive feedback on the second book, When the Sun Falls! Actually, I got more feedback than I've ever gotten on anystory. Thanks guys! You really rock. Anyway, this is the third book and I have some worries (I know I said that on the second book, but these are different). I've found this thing called 'The Curse of the Three'. Basically, the third book/movie of everything sucks. X-Men 3 was awful (my opinion), Spider-Man 3 was awful (my opinion), Buffy Season 3 wasn't as goodas the first two (my opinion), the third Twilight book (no, I'm not a fan, but was at one point and time) was awful (my opinion), Rocky 3 wasn't as good as the first two (my mom's opinion). Do you see where I'm going? Silly, I know. But anyway. Cross your fingers and hope it's good. On with the story!

* * * * * *

Buffy Summers stood outside the quaint little office with its blinds pulled shut around ten in the evening and glanced down at the post-it note again, making sure she had the right address. Her boyfriend, Angel, had been to Sunnydale many times, but this was the first time she'd ever been to see him. If the tiny 'Angel Investigations' on the wooden door was any indication, she was in the right place. She knocked on the door and waited. A moment later, the door was pulled open by Doyle, one of Angel associates and closest friends.

"Don'tcha know we're closed?" He asked before realizing who it was. "Oh, Buffy. Come in."

"Hi, Doyle. How've you been?" she asked politely.

"Surprisingly vision free. How 'bout yourself?"

"Can't complain," she said. "Hey, Cordy."

Without glancing up from the papers she had sprawled across her desk, Cordelia said, "Hi, Buffy. Angel's down in the Batcave."

Upon noticing that Buffy wasn't moving, she looked up. "Oh, that's right! You've never been here before. Silly me. Well, this is my office, main center of paper work, and Angel's office is through there," she said, pointing to a closed door.

"What about Doyle? Doesn't he have an office?" Buffy asked.

"Doyle's vision guy. He doesn't need an office," she held up a hand to silence any protests from Doyle and ushered Buffy over to a flight of stairs beside a small lift. "And this is how you get down to Angel's apartment. He's probably still sleeping since the sun just went down, but you can go wake him up. He won't get grouchy with you."

"Thanks for the, um, grand tour. I'll see you later," Buffy said before descending down the stairs as quietly as possible.

Cordelia turned to Doyle and sighed. "We won't be seeing them for the rest of the night."

"That bad?" he asked.

"That bad."

His apartment was nice, larger than the one they shared in Sunnydale, but not exactly large. She walked through slowly, examining this and that, before finally she came to Angel's bedroom. She didn't knock, that would have given her away, instead she quietly pushed the door open. She froze with her hand on the knob and took in the sight in front of her. Angel was standing with his back to her and was looking through his bureau, in just a pair of black pants. Her eyes traced the outlines of his tattoo and she smiled. For a vampire with super senses, he was definately behind in being aware of someone watching him.

Finally, she stepped silently into the room, shut the door behind her, and leaned on it with both hands still grasping the knob behind her. She smiled in satisfaction when he visibly jumped and quickly spun around.

"Buffy. What are you doing here?"

"Hi to you, too."

"Sorry," he said, and stood before her, both arms out stretched with his hands placed on the door on either side of her head. "You surprised me."

"Mmm. That's what I was going for." She smirked mischievously as he bent his head down to hers.

"You succeeded," he murmured just before his lips claimed hers.

Buffy's hands left the doorknob and traveled up to tangle themselves in his thick brown hair. His arms looped around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. Buffy moaned softly against his mouth and went up on tip toe. When they finally broke apart after a very long minute, she was panting and they were both grinning.

"I ask again, why are you here? Not that I'm not glad to see you--"

"Obviously," she said.

"Obviously, but I was coming to Sunnydale tomorrow."

"Like I said, I wanted to surprise you. And I wanted to see the base of operations."

"Oh. Okay."

"I like your office, by the way. Cordelia played welcoming committee, gave me the whole tour. But of course, I much prefer your form of welcoming," Buffy said and pressed her kiss-swollen lips together.

Angel smiled and began trying to straighten his bed and things on his bedside table.

"Don't," she said. "I'm not some unwelcome house guest - I hope - you don't have to clean up for me."

"You're not an unwelcome house guest, Buffy," He told her and sat down on his bed.

"Good." She plopped down beside him.

"How's everything going with you and your mom?"

She groaned. "The other day, I suddenly realized I forgot to get my hairdryer, you know, the new one I bought? Yeah, well I had to wait until nightfall so I could sneak back in, grab it, and sneak out without waking her. Because I just knew she'd blow up at me again. Can you believe it?"

He placed his hand over hers where it rested on her thigh. "It'll get better, you'll see."

She carefully considered this for a moment, then said, "And if it doesn't?"

"It will."

"Yeah," she snorted. "Right."

They sat there in comfortable silence, until Angel looked down at her. "Shower?"

An hour (or two) later, Buffy sat on Angel's large bed in one of Angel's white tee-shirts, with dripping wet hair. Angel came into the room in just a pair of grey sweatpants and lounged beside her. He couldn't help the insane joy that flooded through him at the sight of her in his shirt. He'd seen her like this before, but it never never ceased to amaze him. He lazily ran a finger up her smooth leg, causing her to smile.

She moved slightly so he was laying on his back and she was beside him, her head on his chest and her legs twined with his in a loving, yet sensual, gesture. Buffy traced patterns on his bare chest with her finger tips. She loved her power over him, and his over her.

Angel allowed his eyes to shut as he fell under the spell she was weaving. Nobody else had ever touched him like that before. Caring and sensitive, hesitant, yet bold at the same time. She was still so innocent, despite the horrors she'd seen. Never in all his years, even the human ones, had he ever thought he would fall for a pure, innocent nineteen year old. He had always figured himself with someone more like Darla. Experienced, bold, someone who'd been around the board a couple of times. Someone who knew all the tricks in the book. However, he never knew there was someone out there so beautiful, inside and out, so perfect.

Buffy looked up at Angel. His eyes were closed and, despite the tranquil expression, looked deep in thought. Her hand left his chest and moved upward to trace the planes of his face. His eyes, his cheekbones, his nose, and lastly his soft lips. She smiled when he kissed her fingertips. His eyes fluttered open and stared into hers. His gaze was so intense that Buffy felt a flush creeping up her neck and she had to look away.

Angel slipped his arms around her and held her tiny body to his tightly. Her scent was intoxicating, a drug. It didn't hurt him, but it was addicting. Everything about her was addicting. He buried his nose in the crown of her hair and inhaled. He felt her slender arms snake around his waist.

"I love you," he heard her murmur softly.

"I love you, too, Buffy. More than you could ever comprehend."

"I can try."

"Don't try," he said. "It takes all the fun out of it."

Buffy looked up at him, eyes wide. "Did you just make a joke? You joked! Alert the media," she called out to nobody imparticular. "Angel just made a joke!"

He laughed and rolled ontop of her, lifting her hands above her head and holding them there.

"I joke."

"Was that another one?"

"No." He kissed her quickly. "I think I've been spending too much time with you and Cordy, though. I'm beginning to joke."

"Now, I know that was a joke."

"True. No such thing as too much time with you."

"Glad to hear it. Did Cordelia and Doyle go home?"

"Pretty sure. They know not to hang around for too long when I haven't seen you in two weeks."

Buffy giggled. "Cordy needs to find a boyfriend..."

"She doesn't have luck with men," Angel said, still pinning her down. "They tend to end up losers."

"Ah... Can we stop talking about Cordelia and her loser men now? It's ruining the mood."

"Sorry," he said and kissed her neck.

No more words were needed.

* * * * * *

Angel held Buffy against him hours later, her tiny back pressed against his chest. He listened to the soothing sound of her breathing and smoothed back her hair. He was tired, incredibly tired, but couldn't bring himself to fall asleep. He had to stay awake to watch over her. He pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder and rested his head beside hers on his pillow.

Buffy was extremely warm, hot even. The heat rolled off of her in waves almost. Years ago, this would have drove him insane. Heat meant a heart beat, a heartbeat meant flowing blood, and flowing blood meant... But not any more. Now, her heat made him feel safe, content. He felt her sigh and smiled. She loved him so much, it was crazy. Nobody had ever loved him before. Not even Darla. She had simply...lusted after him. This was a completely new experience for him. Loving and being loved. He now understood why everyone wanted it so badly. It was amazing, this feeling.

Angel also understood what he and Buffy shared was unnatural. Not many people, no matter how in love, had what they did. They were truly the other's missing half.

He gently tucked her head under his chin and closed his eyes. He didn't breathe, he didn't think, just felt. Felt the way her body fit perfectly, flawlessly, against his. Felt the way her breath stirred her hair, which tickled his nose. Felt the way her heart beat slowly, yet strongly, in her chest. Felt the reaction her moaning his name in her sleep caused in him. Finally, he nuzzled her neck and let the tip of his nose rest just below her ear, where her pulse was. There was something in life that he wouldn't trade for anything. Not being able to walk in the sun, nothing. This miraculous event was one of them.

Eventually, Angel was claimed by sleep, and he and Buffy both slept peacefully with smiles on their lips. There had never been another two people in the world like them, and there never would be. Angel was right. Their love was unnatural. They weren't two bodies, and two souls, they were two entities, and one soul. When he was cursed with his soul, Angel was given only a piece of something. Something larger. When Buffy was born, she was given a piece of something. Something larger, as well. Angel was given the darker half, and Buffy the lighter, more carefree half. Together they were one. One soul. They melded together seamlessly when they were with each other. That was a rare, once in a lifetime sort of deal. No two other people would ever share what they did. They were truly blessed.

Buffy awoke slowly the nex morning and ran a hand through her tatted hair. She sat up and looked around the bedroom. Empty.

"Angel?" she called out softly. No answer.

She slowly, cautiously got up and walked out of the room, running her hands over her bare arms. She found him sitting on his couch reading. Such a creature of habit, she thought.

"Hi," she said and put her arms around his neck from behind. "Whatcha reading?"

"Nothing that would interest you," said Angel as he sat the book beside him.

"What do we have planned for today?" she asked, coming around to sit on his lap.

"Not much," he told her. "Not as long as the sun's up."

She smiled and kissed the base of his throat. "I'm sure we can find something to keep ourselves occupied."

He nodded in agreement.

"Are the guys coming in to work today?" she asked him.

"Probably not. It's Saturday, and Cordelia likes to pamper herself as much as possible inbetween killing demons."

"Hey, I know from expierience that it's hard to look pretty and kill ugly things at the same time. Let her do her spa day."

"I do. As long as no ugly things that need killing pop up, she gets every Saturday to herself."

Buffy smiled and comfortable silence fell between them once again.

"Do you have any food here?" she finally asked.

"Yeah. Are you hungry?"

"A little," she said.

Angel stood up and pulled her with him. "Come on. I'll make you breakfast."

* * * * * *

Deep in the Santiago mines of Los Angeles, a tinking noise could be heard.

"Have you found it yet, Victor?" A tall, red haired woman asked, looking up from the nail she was carefully filing.

"Not yet, Maurice, be patient. We'll have it soon enough."

"Good," she said, smoothing her hair down. "Because the moisture down here is making me friz. Plus, I heard there's a special detective agency in town that specializes in weird occurrences."

"Oh yeah?" Victor asked, stepping back from the rock he was chipping away at and wiping his forehead on a discarded tee shirt. "Where'd you hear that?"

"From Samantha."

"Maur, how many times do I have to tell you? Your sister's trouble."

"But the good kind," she replied. "Ever since Ronald's death, she's been keeping her ear to the ground, listening for any word on this mysterious 'Angel Investigations'. And guess who she tells all the gossip to!"

Victor rolled his eyes. "You."

"Exactly."

"So why don't you actually find Angel Investigations and deter them for a little while. Just so we have enough time to get it, and get out of here."

Maurice put a delicate finger to her chin in a thoughtful gesture. "You know, that just may work."

"Glad to help," he grunted as he picked up his pick axe. "Now go find 'em, so I can get back to work."

* * * * * *

Hours later, Angel was sprawled out on the couch with Buffy laying content in his arms. She sighed happily as he began running his fingers through her golden hair. She looked up at him and smiled at the look of adoration in his eyes.

"So beautiful," he murmured and bent his head down to hers.

They hadn't gotten very far into the kiss, when they were interrupted by someone knocking on the office door.

Buffy groaned when he pulled away, and said, "Can we just, you know, pretend like we didn't hear it?"

As much as the idea was tempting Angel, to forget someone in need and stay in their happy little bubble of peace and romance, he couldn't.

"We have to at least see what they want," He told her and sat up.

She took on a pouty face, but when he gently and quickly kissed her one more time, she couldn't stay mad.

"Fine, fine. We'll go see what they want, but tonight's mine."

"Deal," he said and together they climbed the stairs.

Neither of them expected to see a tall, redheaded woman in a tailored skirt-suit sobbing in front of them.

Buffy immediately rushed up to her, previous arguments forgotten, and asked, "Hey, hey. What's wrong? What happened?"

"Here," said Angel, taking her by the elbow. "Why don't you have a seat?"

He helped her sit down on the small couch, then he sat on the coffee table in front of her, and Buffy stood behind him with her hands on his shoulders.

The redheaded woman wiped her eyes with a tissue Buffy had given her and sat up straighter. "I-I heard you were a detective agency."

"That's right," Angel said. "We are."

"Yeah, well, I've got a problem."

"Like what? Hey, it'll be okay," Buffy said soothingly.

"He's dead."

The Slayer's eyes grew large. "Who? Who's dead?"

"Phil, my fiance`. I-I came home today and he was just laying there on the couch. I thought he was sleeping, so I went to wake him up...he didn't wake up."

"And you didn't call the police?" Angel asked. "Don't you think they could help you?"

"They couldn't help," she sniffled. "When I went to wake him up, I noticed marks."

"What kind of marks?" Inquired Buffy.

"Teeth marks. Like a-an animal attacked him. And the house, it smelled funny when I walked in. Of course, I just figured Phil was trying a new Asian recipe, he does that. But, I realize now that it wasn't a new dish. It was something else. Something inhuman," she whispered the last part as she leaned forward. "And I heard you dealt with...unnatural things like this."

The vampire and his girl shared a quick glance.

"We do...um, I'm sorry, what's your name?" Angel asked.

"Maurice."

"Maurice. Okay, Maurice, we're going to find out what killed your fiance. Is he still at your house?"

"Yes."

"Can you take us there?"

"My car's out front."

Maurice's home was a nice little cottage right on the outskirts of town. Just a simple two-story home with a one car garage and a dead body. When they walked in, Angel immediately realized that she'd been right, it didsmell funny, and whatever had killed Phil was definitely not human. Buffy had to grip Angel's hand and lean against him when they saw Phil. There weren't just marks, there were gashes. He had not just been killed, or murdered, he had been mauled.

"Oh...oh my...I'm so...so sorry," Buffy managed to gasp out. Then she straightened up and exchanged her 'Buffy Summers-Regular College Girl' face for her 'Buffy Summers-Slayer' face.

"Did you see anything unusual when you came home?" Angel asked.

"Other than my fiance` lying dead on our couch, you mean? No, nothing out of the ordinary."

"I'm sorry. I..." he trailed off, not sure of what to say. Finally, he turned to Buffy. "Check out the top floor?"

"On it, boss," she joked.

"I'm coming with you. If this thing is still in the house, I don't want you facing it alone."

She smiled at his concern. "Okay."

Maurice watched as the two made their way up the stairs, and then picked up her cell phone.

"Victor? It's Maurice...yeah...yeah...their out of the...no, I don't care how well Santiago Mines' cell reception is...Angel, the Angel Investigations guy, and his girlfriend are out of the way for now...no...didn't take much...okay...okay...bye."

She quickly snapped her phone shut and began pacing nervously. Look like the concerned girlfriend. Fiance`. Whatever. Don't let them onto you, she told herself.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Buffy and Angel carefully searched through the master bedroom.

"Huh, this is weird," she called from the closet.

"What?" Angel asked coming up from behind her.

"What size would you say Maurice is?"

"I don't know, Buffy. A seven?"

"Seven? Jeez, Angel. Then you must think I'm, like, a ten." She snorted. "Whatever. Try a zero. She's the skinniest person I've ever met! And I'm a two, by the way."

"What's the big deal?"

"Look at her clothes. There's fives in here. Unless she did a whole lot of Weight Watchers and forgot to throw out her old clothes, these aren't hers. Plus, there's not a pair of heels in here! And she's got to have money. You can tell by the way she dresses. So why do all her clothes vibe 'Good Will'?"

"Her clothes vibe?"

"It's a girl thing. Don't question it."

He nodded. "Maybe they're a friends."

"She'd be an awful good friend to give up all this closet space for her friend's clothes."

"So? Are you getting to a point?"

"My point is, these aren't hers!"

Finally, Angel caught on. "So you're saying..."

"This isn't her house."

"Then why is Phil, her fiance`, dead on the couch?"

"I don't know. And truthfully, I don't think we should confess we know something just yet. I want to see what game she's playing."

He kissed the top of Buffy's head and smiled.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing. Just proud, I guess. You hopped into the detective thing better than I thought you would."

"Hey!" she defended. "Just because I'm the Slayer, and am better at slicing and dicing rather than hunting out clues, doesn't mean I can't. My Hellmouth demons take some sleuth work, too, you know."

"I know," he said, then realized they were getting off topic. "We should go back downstairs so Maurice doesn't get antsy. And so that thing that killed Phil doesn't come back for her."

"Okay," she agreed.

"Did you find anything?" Maurice asked anxiously when she saw them.

After a quick, meaningful glance to Angel, Buffy said, "No. I'm sorry. Whatever it was seems to just have left after it...it...killed Phil."

Maurice let out a defeated breath and hung her head. "I guess I'll get a hotel room tonight. I don't want to be here with..."

"I understand," Angel said. "There's a really nice one out past the high way. The Bakers Inn, I believe. It's a nice little bed and breakfast."

"Thank you. I'll remember that."

A few more 'sorry's were shared, before the three went on their separate ways, Maurice to the mines, and Buffy and Angel to his apartment.

* * * * * *

Much later that night, after a long, hot bubble bath, Buffy stood in front of a foggy mirror combing her hair, wrapped in one of Angel's silky robes.

"So what do you think's up with Maurice?" she asked Angel, who was leaning against the door frame.

"I'm not sure. I'm also not sure if there is anything up with her."

"But the clothes! I say again, they weren't hers!"

"Maybe she was still moving in with him, and those were his ex-girlfriend's. Or maybe she's like us, two apartments. Maybe all her clothes are at her other one, like most of yours are in Sunnydale. I mean, other than the stuff you brought with you, you don't have any stuff here, do you?"

"No, but I have an excuse. This is the first time I've ever been here."

"How do you know it's not the same with her?"

Angel walked over to her, looped his arms around her waist, and pulled her up onto the counter so they were eye level.

"Look," he said. "You're probably right, you almost always are, and I'm not trying to argue with your Slayer senses, but just give Maurice a chance, okay? Then, if she does turn out to be a crook, you can rub it in my face all you want, but just please give her a chance."

He looked at her, his brown eyes wide and bright, full of emotion.

She chewed on her lip for a moment, before sighing. "You know I can never disagree with you when you look at me like that. Fine, fine. I'll give her a chance."

"Thank you," he said.

"But," Buffy said, a warning, yet playful, edge to her voice. "You owe me."

"Oh, I think we can work something out," he murmured before his lips captured hers.

* * * * * *

"Have you gotten it yet?" Maurice asked, looking up from the latest issue of Glamor.

"No. Say, how'd everything go with the Angel Investigations people?" Victor asked.

"I told you, they won't be bothering us for a while."

"What did you have to do?"

"Kill a man."

He raised his eyebrows in amazement. "Nice."

"I know. And just think, after we get this, nobody will be able to stand in our way!"

To Be Continued...

A/N: I really wish I could have some 'Duhn, Duhn, Duuuuuhn' music after that last line! Anyway, review please!

Also, check out my forum, 'Gealach Gorm'. I'll be posting some info on the series there!