…

After engaging in a heated kiss, he slowly pulled away from her, forcing his loins under control…for the hundredth time that night.

"Buffy, we can't." He reluctantly denied her, using everything he had to step back.

"What? Why?" She asked, trying to get her hands down his pants.

"You're drunk…I'm drunk…it wouldn't be right." He told her, digging at every bit of chivalry in him.

"Drunken sex is great." She giggled, grabbing for his pants again.

"Buffy, you haven't been ready to resume an intimate relationship in months…now after a few bottles of champagne you're all for it? I can't take advantage of you like that." He urged, kicking himself for it. 'Damn, sometimes I really REALLY hate this soul.' His darker side growled.

"Sure you can." She smiled, unfastening her dress and letting it slide off.

His eyes widened, taking in the wonderful image of her bare top, those perfect breasts he's been denied for months practically begging for him to touch them. That little scrap of fabric she calls panties just asking to be ripped off so he can indulging in the perfection that lay just beneath.

His mouth watered.

'Wrong, this is wrong, very, very wrong…she's going to hate you in the morning.' That little souled voice in the back of his head rambled annoyingly.

'Who cares, get some pussy, she's offering.' The darkness suggested.

She slowly walked towards him, "You know you want me." She teased, swaying her hips the way he liked, brushing her fingers down her stiffening peaks.

His groin throbbed in agony for her.

She pressed against him, her nipples teasing against his chest. Her hands tangled in his hair then pulled, dragging his lips down to hers.

He couldn't stop his lips from responding, but a moment later the taste of champagne on her tongue forced his resolved back in place. His eyes searched hers, those hazel green eyes misty with drink.

He growled in frustration and turned away. "We can't."

She was drunk, that was the only reason she was coming on to him. He really wished his morals were lower, but right now they weren't. Pride kept him back, being too proud to take advantage of someone clearly not making coherent choices. Even his demon side rejected the idea, he wanted love from Buffy when she wanted it give it, not while she was incapable of saying no.

Although there was something else swirling in his brain, suggesting things even his demon usually didn't.

"You don't want me?" She asked in a quiet, hurt voice.

"I do…but…" That little pout on her lips was making his knees weak.

She pulled him down again, forcing her tongue deep into his mouth.

He was rapidly losing his will to fight back. 'Just fuck her.' Sprang into his mind.

"Buffy..."

"Shut up." She ordered, pushing him roughly down on the bed and straddling him.

'You're going straight back to hell.' Repeated in his head.

'That piece of juicy ass will be well worth it.' The darkness added.

She leaned in, ripping the buttons off his shirt so she could kiss his bare chest.

His eyes closed, his body screaming to sink into her. 'Dick or fangs, just bury yourself in that succulent offered flesh.' That little voice suggested.

His hands moved up her lean and muscled thighs, drawn towards the wet heat he could smell clogging his senses. He hadn't smelled arousal on her in months, and god how he missed it.

She moaned as his fingers found her folds, his thumb messaging her nub, making her rock hard against his hand.

"Angel." She breathed out against his ear, nipping at the skin.

The word sounded like heaven on her tongue.

She shuttered against him in orgasm, slowly pulling his hand from her body and lowering herself over his still clothed arousal. She looked him in the eyes as she sucked his wet fingers, tasting herself on his skin.

He feared he would lose it right there.

Any self-control vanished.

He growled, sitting up and flipping her beneath him.

She giggled, feeling the rush from her orgasm tingling all over her body.

He literally ripped the pants off himself, tossing the shredded fabric away from him as he positioned over his wife.

He nibbled and kissed her neck and scar, then moved down to her stiff peaks, sucking and flicking them with his tongue, making love to her with his mouth. Savoring every taste.

As his lips moved down her body, she felt the cloud of alcohol slowly lifting, her slayer healing sobering her up.

He didn't hesitate as his tongue entered her hot center, greedily devouring her from the inside.

She was gasping out her second orgasm when the fear settled over her again, the numbness from the alcohol vanished.

Her eyes focused on his naked arousal as he prepared to finally sheath it into her.

"Stop." She breathed out, sitting up and pulling away from him. Cold fear rushing over her, almost claustrophobic.

"What?" he asked, his whole body throbbing for her.

"You're right, I was drunk…I'm not ready…I'm so sorry Angel." She said, closing her legs to him, all the while fighting with her mind why.

He just stared at her a moment, "Are you f*cking serious?" He breathed out, shocked.

He felt her arousal dropping like a plane without wings; he knew she was dead serious.

"You should have said no." She scolded him, feeling like he'd taken advantage of the situation.

"I tried, you didn't let me." He defended, clearly remembering being thrown down and straddled.

"You should have tried harder." She countered, mad at him now and herself for being so cold.

"I should have tried harder? You shouldn't have shoved your tongue down my throat!" He yelled.

"I was drunk ok, and horny!" She shot back, "And you didn't try taking the champagne away at all tonight."

"You're horny? How the hell do you think I feel? Damn it Buffy, it's been months. I can't wait anymore." He moved forward, wanting to just jump her.

"You said you were ok with it! That I could have time! That you were patient!" She yelled back, reflexively moving back from him at his advance.

"That was before you used me to get you off!" He yelled, rage flaring as the shock of her denial sank in.

"I didn't, not on purpose." She told him sympathetically.

"So that's it? I'm supposed to just take a cold shower and hold you the rest of the night?" He spat.

"You said you were ok with giving me time." She repeated, seeing he was beyond pissed at the moment.

"Yeah, well maybe I lied!"

"You lied to me?" She asked, hurt.

He growled, "I wanted to believe it Buffy, I tired like hell to…but it's not working, I can't just wait for you anymore." His eyes drank in her bare skin, the flush of recent orgasm on her cheeks, he breathed in deeply her lush scent.

"What do you mean?" She asked, pulling the sheet up around her, seeing the predatory gleam in his eyes.

"This isn't working." He repeated, really wanting to just give into his darker urges and take her regardless of her saying no. Part of him was a little turned on by the idea of her fighting and screaming.

"What isn't working?" She demanded, meeting his hungry stare with a cold glare.

"Us." He hissed out.

"What?"

"I'm near you everyday, I see you, I feel you…but it's like you're not even here. This…whatever we've become, I can't even think straight anymore. To see you and not to be able to touch you…it's killing me. This is why I left you in Sunnydale, I can't exist in some half-life with you. It's all or nothing…and if I get too little...it might as well be nothing at all." He explained, forcing words instead of actions through his mouth.

"So you're saying if I don't have sex with you, you're leaving me?" She outraged.

"What you just did to me? That's inhuman Buffy!" He growled, holding on as tight as he could to his aggression. He felt like hitting her, and that thought scared the sanity back into him.

"I know! I can't help it! I don't want to feel this way but I do! I can't help it!" She reeled, beside herself at how selfish she was acting towards him. It was like every time they started to get intimate, someone was throwing ice on her. As if they were being pushed apart.

"No shit! I can't stand you jerking me around anymore." He turned hotly on his heels, grabbing for clean, undamaged clothes. He needed to leave, before she got hurt.

"You bastard." She yelled out, feeling betrayed by him.

"I'm not saying this to hurt you, I'm telling you because I promised you I'd talk to you. Well I'm talking. The words are bitter and stale on my tongue but I'm saying them.

There's too much going on in my head, there are feelings in here I don't care to address; I'm not that guy anymore. But the more time I spend in this limbo with you, the more I feel that good part of me slipping away.

There's a whole world of evil in me Buffy, and your love is what keeps it away. Without it, I'm losing who I am…and I feel like I'm becoming who I was…and I'm not referring to the broody hero guy.

I actually considered raping Spike in an alley…that's not the guy I want to be." He forced out, fighting his emotions to just take her, sink is teeth into that lovely neck...

"You…what?" She gasped, trying to understand what he'd just said

"I love you Buffy, but I don't think I can be with you right now." He pushed out of his mouth; needing to put as much distance between her and his darker urges as soon as possible before he lost his grasp on them.

"You…can't be with me right now?" She gasped out, "So you're just leaving? What the hell happened to you never leaving me again!"

"It's easy when you're pushing." He answered coldly.

She couldn't speak, she just stared dumbstruck at him. How the hell could he just dump all this on her like that? Completely throw away everything he'd said only the night before and change his story so much? How could she not have seen it?

"You want a push! I'll give you a push!" She screamed and shoved him, angry more at herself but taking it out on Angel.

His hands wrapped around her forearms, halting her. "You don't want to do that." He threatened, something swimming just behind his eyes.

"Don't I?" she shot back, ripping her arms free. Whatever darkness that was pressing at him, her slayer instincts reacted to it. In an instant, she swung her arm, her fist striking his jaw.

He reeled back from the blow, spitting blood from his mouth. As his eyes turned towards her, she was a shadow spread over them, something dark and foreboding.

Suddenly she found herself pressed against the bedroom wall, a crazed sparkle behind his eyes. "You bitch." He growled out, backhanding her.

All at once he seemed to compose himself, pulling back at her shocked stare as she held her hand to the red mark on her cheek.

'He hit me.'

"Buffy…I…I'm Sorry…" He apologized, in disbelief he'd just struck her.

"GET OUT!" She yelled in shocked rage, pushing him away from her and grabbing a vase off the nightstand.

In under a second she had chucked it at his head.

He didn't duck.

The glass shattered against his skin, cutting a few deep gashes on his forehead.

His demon face flashed at her, yellow eyes blazing.

Eyes that didn't stay yellow for long.

Rage exploded over him, and for a second, he almost went for her. "You'll regret that you selfish cunt." He spat out, he didn't stop to check the wound as he turned and stalked pissed from the room, grabbing a handful of clothes and slamming the door as he went.

Buffy stood staring at the door a few minutes, trying in vein to shuffle through the mess that just happened.

He angrily pulled on his clothes, turned and punched the wall along the stairs, sending his fist through the material and causing a few pictures to fall and shatter from their mounts.

He wanted to rip the whole house apart, every damn bit of it.

Buffy included.

But he stopped himself…barely.

Taking deep breaths he stormed out the front door, slamming it as he went.

A dark calm washed over him as he felt the trickles of blood drip down onto his shirt, his anger flowing into his muscles, giving him strength to keep walking. A cold smile slid across his fanged lips as he looked out into the warm June night. 'This is for the better; I don't need the cold bitch anymore.' He thought, melting into the shadows.

Had he been looking in a mirror, he wouldn't have seen the feral yellow his demon eyes always bore, but a curtain of black sweeping over his eyes, chasing out the white and leaving only darkness in its place.

…

Buffy stood gaping at what had just happened. It felt like their first big fight all over again, except with more swearing.

She looked down numbly at the one casualty in the space, the shattered remains of it anyways.

The vase she'd thrown had contained the paper roses Angel had given her for their first anniversary. The glass was broken well beyond repair and most of the flowers were crunched or torn from the high velocity impact.

There was a splatter of blood marring the light blue carpet, the red liquid on a few of the shards.

She shut her eyes, 'What is happening to us?'

When she opened them again, her mind kept replaying the conversation…her actions, how she'd subdued him beyond his refusal, used him to satisfy her desires then brushed him off. 'Why the hell did I do that? That's not me. I wouldn't do that to him.' But it didn't change the fact that it happened.

Something wasn't right.

They weren't acting right.

The hex on Oz flashed into her mind, 'What if Oz wasn't the only one under a spell here?"

Picking up the phone she shoved down the pang of sorrow for the hour and called Giles.

…

Angel stalked angrily down the empty streets, feeling like shit. He hated this; it was tearing him apart inside.

Was he wrong to say those things to Buffy? He didn't know.

'Do you really care? Kill the cold bitch, just sink your fangs into that throat and suck her dry.' Wafted in his head.

All he did know was if being together was killing him, being away from her was beyond hell.

This was worse, he could feel that now. He'd hoped being away would help, let his mind settled without bouncing around every time she entered or exited a room.

But without her near, his mind wouldn't settler for even a second. His thoughts racing and jumping and punching at everything else.

God he felt if he were going mad.

Maybe he was.

His body was still reeling from the almost sex, his head not being able to understand how she could get him so worked up and then just tell him to stop. She couldn't be that cruel.

'Of course she can, bitches are that cruel...it's in their nature.'

He had a feeling his junk was beyond blue, a shade unknown to man by now.

Rage crept up his spine, that desire to just rip someone in half was growing.

It made him sick how badly he'd just wanted to f*ck her, not love her, but f*ck her into oblivion. He craved to sink not only his manhood into her, but his fangs too. He'd wanted to drain that bitch of every last betraying drop.

He stopped walking, sensing someone hurrying along a sidewalk opposite the side he was on. He watched predatory from the shadows as a woman speed walked down the path. His nostrils flared, the scent that wafted off her was somehow familiar. His interest peaked, Angel followed, not even realizing he was hunting.

…

Buffy hung up with Giles and cursed to herself over and over. Something was defiantly wrong with Angel and her too.

They hadn't been able to call Willow, her and Oz had their phones off as they enjoyed their first night as a married couple.

Giles had agreed that something was amiss and suggested she her perform the spell she'd used to discover if there was something mystical attacking her mother years ago. The same spell she'd used to discover Dawn wasn't born her sister.

Buffy quickly did as he'd suggested. She'd awoken in the trance and looked around her house, passing a mirror she'd seen a shadow hanging over her. The picture of her and Angel on their wedding day showed the same shadow over her, over him too, but his was larger and much darker.

She'd just finished informing her watcher of the spell results and was grabbing the enchanted handcuffs just in case Angel wasn't going to be cooperative. She had no idea what was affecting them and wasn't taking any chances.

All she knew was someone was screwing with them using magic, and Angel was in danger…or a danger.

She was glad Connor had the kids as she jogged down the street. She figured on foot would be better since Angel had left his car in the driveway.

…

Almost an hour passed, Giles was driving around town as a second pair of eyes as she searched the shadows for her husband. They decided not to call in the rest of the gang yet, knowing almost everyone was either sleeping off a great party or spending time with loved ones.

Not to mention if Angel turned violent, they'd be canon fodder to him.

She was thinking of giving up when she felt a vampire nearby. Figuring she'd take care of it while she was here, she headed down the alley, getting her stake out as she moved.

"Help!" A weak voice called to her from the shadows, slowly a woman materialized, she was being held from behind, the captor still bathed in darkness.

"Ok blood breath, let the girl go. This is between you and my stake." She threatened, seeing the creature's hand tighten over the girl's throat.

A cold laugh dripped from the shadows as the vampire stepped forwards.

Buffy gut retched in recognition.

"Aww, come on Buff, just having a little fun." Angelus's voice purred out, his tones sharp and lethal.

His black eyes shimmered with madness, his fangs red with blood.

"Angel? What are you doing? Let her go." Buffy stuttered out, in shock at seeing her husband strangling a woman in an alley.

"Now why would I do that lover? Or should I stop calling you that…you know the term implies an actual sexual relationship." He grinned heartlessly.

"This isn't you, something is wrong with us, we're under a spell, maybe even a hex like Oz was. Just let the girl go and we can talk, we can fix this." She reasoned, trying to talk him down.

He grinned wider, running his tongue over his fangs and licking them clean. "But I was just getting warmed up." He pulled the woman in closer, licking the bite on her throat.

She pushed down the wave of revulsion at the sight, of her husband lapping the blood off some woman's neck. She almost felt jealous, as if he were kissing this girl, cheating on her right in front of her eyes. She felt another pang at the various bruises she could see on her arms and legs, tiny cuts and welts covering her exposed skin.

She's been torched recently.

'Not by my Angel, he couldn't have done that. He still has his soul, he isn't evil like that anymore.' She told herself.

"Angel please, just let her go and come to me, we can…" She abruptly stopped talking as a cracking noise echoed off the brick alley walls.

The woman he had been holding dropped lifeless to the ground, her neck twisted at an odd angle.

Buffy's jaw dropped.

Angel had just murdered a woman in cold blood.

"Sorry slayer, were you say something? Didn't hear over that wonderful noise her neck made when I twisted it just right." He smiled, the cold laugh returning. "Man, I never get tired of that."

"Oh my god." Buffy whispered, still in shock at what she just witnessed.

"No not God, Buff. Angel, Angelus, either will due." He looked around and flashed her a cold smile, "Sorry honey, but I've got a schedule to keep. See you soon." And he disappeared back into the shadows.

Buffy shook herself and ran after him, but there were too many shadows…he was gone.

She looked down at the ruined corpse and shuttered.

'Angel just murdered her...My Angel...'

...

Buffy walked in a trance, absently calling Giles as her mind tried to arrange what she just saw into something that made sense.

"Buffy?" The British voice asked over the line.

"Giles, call the gang in, everyone you can reach."

"Buffy what happened, have you found Angel?"

A tear slipped down her cheek. "I found Angelus."

"Are you certain?" Giles asked, not wanting to believe his ears.

"He just…murdered a woman in cold blood…" She forced herself not to break down; she couldn't afford the emotion right now. She needed to find him, and stop him…any way she could.

"My god, are you alright? Where are you?" He asked, afraid for her. He remembered how Angelus fixated on her when he was free.

She told him where she was and hung up. A few minutes later his van pulled up, she got in and explained everything to him.

"This is bad Giles, epic bad. Vampire Angelus was hard enough, now he doesn't need an invitation and sunlight isn't an issue…I can't kill him Giles…I can't kill the father of my…oh god…OH GOD! Connor's house, now!" She shouted, realizing her children were a target.

Giles realized as she yelled that Angelus needed no invitation, and the old evil vampire's MO was to target those that made him feel human first. His kids would be his first victims.

Buffy quickly dialed Connor's number, praying he answered, that it wasn't already too late.

On the forth ring Connor's tired voice answered, "Hello?"

Buffy quickly explained the situation, Connor growing pale at the idea of Angelus back in the driver's seat. "But how is that possible? I thought his soul was bound, merged…inseparable…"

"He doesn't need to lose it; he's under a spell, just check on the kids, please." She said quickly, once everyone was safe they could worry about the how and why.

He opened the door to the spare room that the cribs were set up in, "I haven't heard anything so…oh no."

"Connor! Connor what is it?" Buffy panicked into the phone.

"They're…gone. The cribs are empty." He glanced at the open window, seeing the glass broken so a hand could reach in and unlock it. "He took them." He said quietly, shocked and feeling violated at his father's betrayal. A tiny sliver of jealousy flared as well, he was also Angel's child, yet he was spared.

…

Buffy, Giles, Xander, Dawn, and Connor sat debating around a room at the 'Sleep Tight' Motel. Giles had suggested going someplace Angel(us) wouldn't think to look for them, just to be on the safe side.

Spike and Faith were capable of defending themselves and had opted to stay home, but went out periodically together to search for signs of the hexed man.

Buffy's eyes were glazed with worry and rage over what her husband had done. There was no forgiving taking their kids. None. She refused to believe anything beyond them being taken…her mind wouldn't let he believe he'd hurt them…it just wouldn't.

She couldn't think her children were dead.

It wasn't Angelus's style anyways, if he'd chosen to kill them, they wouldn't have found empty cribs, she would have found bodies.

That was what she told herself anyways.

The thought didn't help lessen the knot of agony in her chest.

Pushing those thought aside she focused on the mission: Find and capture Angel.

"His eyes were black." She spoke up, just then realizing what she'd seen at home and in the alley but thinking it was a trick of the light.

"What?" Giles asked, looking up from his dusty tome.

"Angel's eyes, there wasn't any white, they were totally black…is it part of the hex?" She asked, hoping Giles could use it to narrow down the search results for the spell.

"It's very probable, I'll look into it." He grabbed another old book from the pile and settled at the small table, paging though it. Not for the first time that night, he really wished Willow was around, her knowledge of the magicks world far exceed his.

"What a time for Will to be AWOL." Xander muttered, realizing the same thing Giles had. An experienced watcher was good, but Willow was the magicks queen.

"She's not AWOL, she's on her honeymoon." Dawn shot back, on edge with her niece and nephew missing and her brother-in-law possibly insane. Not to mention cutting her night with Mark short.

Connor was pacing the small room, feeling like a caged rat. "I can't just stand here, we need to be looking for him." He addressed the group, rallying for action. He was beyond worried for his siblings, but he was afraid for his father too. He knew when this spell was lifted; the blood on his father's hands would mentally destroy him with guilt. The faster Angel was found, the less damage he could do, the fewer strikes he could hold against himself.

"No." Was Buffy's instant reply.

At the hostile glare of "Why?" from her son, Buffy continued. "We know nothing about this spell, all we do know is under it…Angel's capable of murder."

"Angel's crazy and murdering people…where have I heard this before?" Xander mumbled.

Everyone sent him a cold stare.

"Hey, just stating facts guys, I like Angel…well not really, but it's kinda like having a cousin you hate, but well, he's family. All I'm saying is we know this drill." He defended.

"No Xander we don't." Giles cut in, "Angel is not the same man he was, his demon and soul are merged now. His behavior could be radically different especially under the control of a spell we have yet to determine how it works. We're blind about this and Buffy is correct in her decision to…"

"Hide?" Connor cut him off. "Because that's essentially all we're doing. My dad is out there, and he needs help."

"Oh, yeah. I'm sure that's what this is, a cry for help." Xander replied sarcastically.

"Xander" Buffy addressed calmly to her oldest male friend. "Angel's not evil. He's under a spell. He can't control what he's doing, it's not his fault. If I hear anything else from your mouth suggesting otherwise…Angel will be the last of your worries."

Xander accepted the threat and folded his arms across his chest, sitting back and saying nothing else.

After a few awkward quiet minutes Buffy turned back to the gang, "I'm going out to look for him."

"Me too." Connor volunteered.

Just as quickly she shook her head. "No."

"He's my dad!" The young man protested.

"You're also the only one here besides me that stands a chance fighting him. If we both go, that leaves everyone vulnerable. " She stated her point.

Connor sighed, knowing she was right but still anxious to help his dad.

Pulling her son aside, she hugged him tight, "I know Connor…this is killing me too." She whispered to him, sharing their pain.

They spent a few minutes discussing posting a watch and where to concentrate the research.

A few minutes later Buffy shrugged the dart gun over her shoulder and slipped out into the cool summer night.

...

TBC