Another Compendium of Lost Moments

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: Here the normal rigmarole is posited. No, unfortunately I don't own anything from Bones or Angel... or anything else. Yup, I'm back, baby…and I'm wrecking havoc as needed to tell the most awesome and epic Angel-Bones crossover ever conceived. However, since it's only for the purposes of creative enjoyment and amusing distraction, I think we're okay. Are there any other questions? No? ::blinks:: Good. Then, moving on―

Summary: A series of drabbles, one-shots, missing scenes, and snapshots from the world of Brennan the Witch and Angel (Booth). Rated M. Very AU. BonesxAngel Xover.

A/N: ::checks the mic:: Yup, this thing is still on. Hi everybody. Mind the dust bunnies as I've been pulling out lots of stuff written long ago. I think I'd even forgotten how much was in the pipeline just waiting for a final polish and to be shared. Not sure how and when and in what order things will come, but it's not like there's ever been much order to the world of Bren the Witch and Angel-Booth. This story will be an anthology that will feature drabbles, one-shots, missing scenes, and snapshots from the world of Brennan the Witch and Angel (Booth). The pieces will come from any time in the life of either person and so may run the gamut from Tudor England of the 1500s to Galway, Ireland in the late 1700s to Washington DC in the 2010s/2020s. Brennan and/or Angelus, Angel, Booth will usually show up as might some of their supporting characters from Max and Avalon to Spike and other members of Team Angel (although we won't let Spike catch us calling them that).

First up, since a yummy way to start anything is with Angelus, I have a steamy little scene from the days of Angel in LA right before Team Angel took up residence running the LA office of Wolfram and Heart.

Logistical Notes: For those familiar with Angel canon chronology, this takes place during mid-season 4 of that series. In the chronology of Bones, this would take place in the days just before the Gemma Arrington case as depicted in the 100th episode "The Parts in the Sum of the Whole." Prior one shots in the world of Bren the Witch and Angel-Booth can be found here.

GUH Alert: Umm, YES. This little ditty that I've chosen to open with stars Angelus. As a reader of mine once said, the man is walking sex-on-a-stick and ID personified. Where Angelus goes, foul language, lewd behavior, and hot sex follows. You have been warned.

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Chapter 1: Dancing with the Devil

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Los Angeles, California ~ March 2003

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How she'd found him he still didn't know.

However, for her, he'd been simple enough to trace. She found him as easily as she found herself, simply following the signature of herself in him. Easy. Quick. Necessary. But she felt no need to enlighten him about that truth. Sometimes, she knew, the less he knew about some things, the better it was for all involved, herself included.

He stood on the balls of his feet, his muscles coiled with a tightly-wound tension as he turned to face whatever attacker had been stupid enough to try and challenge him, obviously because whoever or whatever it was didn't know that he had once been known as the Scourge of Europe. For more than a century, he terrorized the timid, shrinking masses that inhabited that sorry continent, single-handedly laying waste to entire villages in a single night, slaughtering every man, woman and child, just because he could, and taking as much satisfaction in the ragged sound of their shrieking cries as he did in the sweet, tangy taste of their innocent blood.

He had barely begun to turn around when his keen ears detected the throb of a familiar heartbeat and his nostrils flared at the pungent smell of her, spicy and yet sweet and faintly earthy, like cloves and cinnamon. The moment he saw her his mouth opened with a tiny growl as his lips began to curl back in a crooked grin. Something hard and insistent tugged at him low in his belly as he slowly licked his lips as he approached her with his arms raised in a defensive gesture. His lopsided grin coyly widened as a teasing smile tugged at the edges of his hard and cruel mouth and he slowly traced his tongue over the ivory tips of the bared fangs that he knew gave his already impressive visage an even more menacing look. His bright yellow eyes glowed bright for a moment as he took in the sight of her even as they moved around one enough in a slow but deliberately paced circle.

It had been more than a century since he'd actually seen her. The last time he'd actually had the chance to see her for himself, it had been the spring of 1898. They'd been in London, she just returned from Egypt and he was just about to depart for what would be the worst mistake he'd ever made in going with Darla, Drusilla, and Spike to Romania. He couldn't help but let out a small snarky laugh as he let his hard, hungry brown eyes run over her body from head to foot.

The irony wasn't lost on him given what she was wearing compared with what she'd been wearing the last time he'd actually be able to have a go at her.

He remembered laughing out loud when she answered the door clad in a long-sleeved, ankle-length dress made of a sturdy, coarse-spun khaki fabric with her hair done up in a tight bun. She'd looked like a spinster schoolmarm member of one of those pathetic American religious cults that had spiraled into extinction because the group's celibacy not only meant its congregants never had children, but also had driven away would-be converts who turned tail the moment they realized that imitating Christ meant never again knowing the joy of a hot, hard fuck or even rubbing one out in the morning after waking from a deliciously lurid dream. He wondered back then if he should call her 'Mother Temperance', and now once again reminded of his original thoughts, he once again thought about how she would take the veiled insult if he were to refer to her as such now since she wasn't quite the same woman that she had been then...even if some things were similar.

Her look was different—and admittedly much sexier—than the one he'd seen her sporting more than a hundred years earlier. Her hair was pulled tight into a messy ponytail and he could see her still-full breasts through the thin cotton material of the nude colored bra she wore under a lavender colored tank top over which she wore a wrinkled white button down cotton shirt. The shirt was smudged with the sweat and dirt of her travels and, he hoped, a few other bodily fluids that made his nose tickle in a delicious way given the way it enhanced the muskiness of her scent. She wore the long sleeves unbuttoned and rolled up to her forearm. The light stone colored khaki cargo pants she wore covered her legs before ending in a pair of dusty and well-loved brown leather boots. Granted, her new look wasn't as dull or unfeminine as the tent-like monstrosity she'd greeted him with in the spring of 1898, but it was a far cry from the narrow-waisted dresses with the low-cut push-up bustiers and naughty corsets and other feminine silky things she'd used to wear before she got bitten by the travel bug. As far as he was concerned, he'd rather see her in nothing at all if the alternative was going to cover up all of her delicious and oh-so-fuckable curves.

He snorted a bit when he raised his yellow eyes to meet her blue ones, noting the faint crackle of electricity that tinted the irises in a very distinct way from the way her normal blue eyes would glance at those who garnered her attention.

Unable to help himself, he chuckled as he gave her a curt shrug. "Now, I know it's been awhile since I've been around, lass, but as I recall, the wicked blue mojo doesn't happen until after we've started fuckin'...unless you've changed things that much since I've been gone?"

Her hands on her hips, it was Brennan's turn to let out cruel bark as she shook her head. "Angelus," she snorted. "You know, I don't know why I expected anything to be different with you, but I suppose it doesn't matter if it's 1860 or 2003...everything always comes back to fucking with you, doesn't it?"

The vampire's own eyes suddenly flickered. "It always comes down to fucking, lass," he said with a laugh. "There's nothin' better in the world than a good hot fuck with a woman who knows what to do with a big stiff cock like mine. It's even better than killing, as far as I'm concerned."

She smacked her lips for a moment and then said, "You so sure you're going to get what you want, Angelus? Because I think we both know that a lot's changed since the last time you and I had words."

Angelus smirked—or, rather, gave as close as he could come to a smirk given the gnarled brow and fanged mouth of his demonic visage. "Aww, fuck, lass," he spat, a certain metallic edge to his voice. "You're not gonna tell me you've given it thought and decided to join a nunnery, are ya? Because, well..." He snickered, then shrugged as he took a step closer to her. "Because even though I always found something decadently hot about fuckin' a virgin novice, I know for certain you're neither, lass." When his latest quip aroused no response from her other than a skeptical narrowing of her eyes, he added, "Anyhow, I'm done with virgins. I've given 'em up for Lent, as it were. I'd rather spend my time with a woman of learning and sophistication who knows how to fuck and get fucked." He cocked his head to the side and flashed her a fanged smile. "It's been too long, lass. A hundred years is a long time..."

Rolling her eyes at him, she shook her head at him and said, "Yeah, well not counting the last time you got free and decided to dilly dally in the Land of the Midlife Crisis, since we all know how well that turned out."

Angelus held up a hand. "Don't even start, lass," he groaned. "I'm surprised that limp-wristed, sorry-ass excuse for a vampire monstrosity could even get it up and keep it up long enough to pop the Slayer and cash in her pathetic v-card. And holy hell, what a fuckin' disappointment that was. Virgins are only fun to pop when they put up a bit of a fight. Now you know what I've had to put up with all these hundred years. Truth be told, you really have no idea at all."

She shook her head again at him in a clearly dismissive way. "You know what? I've never understood Angel's fascination with the Midlife Crisis, and I'd hoped, you being the better man and all, wouldn't get so hung up with a fresh piece of virgin snatch once you'd had it. Like you said, if you've plucked one virgin, you've plucked 'em all, so what's the fucking point?" She paused for a beat and then continued, "So keeping that thought in mind, what did I do? I find out that you're loose again, and I wait a bit to let you have enough time to get a spot of feeding and fucking and killing under your belt before I expected you to turn up on my doorstep. So, like the good girl I am, I waited. Patiently."

She fell silent for a moment, then grunted a soft, dismissive laugh.

"Problem is, I waited. And waited some more. And kept fucking waiting. But you know what, Angelus?"

The blue static in her eyes flashed brightly again, the energy faintly crackling in a way that made Angelus shiver for more than just the obvious reasons as he felt her dark anger radiating off of her. He didn't get a chance to make what seemed to him an obvious quip—Brennan being many things over the centuries, but he was pretty damn sure that being a 'good girl' wasn't one of them—before she took a sharp breath and cut off any snarky witticisms he could toss at her. Instead, she merely answered the very question that she had just asked him as she took a couple of steps closer to him, still maintaining their circle, but making it much smaller than it had been just a moment earlier.

"You know what, Angelus?" she repeated. "If I'd kept thinking like that, kept thinking that you'd get your sorry ass in gear and get over wasting whatever fucking time you were putzing around here, then I'd still be in Chicago. Waiting. For you. Because you never fucking showed up!" Her tone rose by several octaves, becoming somewhat brittle and shrill as she narrowed her eyes at him waiting for a response.

"Hey," Angelus snorted. "Simmer down there, lass. You'll get yours soon enough. I was makin' my way around to you. More like working my way up, really, if you think about it. I had to get back in the groove a bit after wandering the Desert of Melodramatic Limp-Dicked, Do-Good Whiners for the last hundred-odd years. I actually did ya a favor, lass."

"Don't make me any more nauseous than I already am," she retorted. "We both know that you're no better than Angel right now. The only difference is instead of getting obsessed about his blonde sloppy seconds, you've been dealing with his brunette leftovers. I mean, what is it with these sluts from Sunnydale, anyway? It's not like they're that fucking great in the sack, and even I know the novelty of popping their cherries has to wear off after some point." She paused and then wagged a finger at him as she said, "But just in case there's any doubt this time, let me let you in on a little secret. Cordelia? The perky cheerleader wannabe with the big tits? She's been tagged...more than once...by more than one guy. So any hopes of you getting to work in her self-proclaimed 'born again virgin status' is just a bunch of bullshit. And, well, as for the other fucked-up gutter trash Slayer from Boston? I can guaran-damn-tee you that she's seen more cock then I have and that's with the fact that I've been fucking men senseless for more than four centuries longer than she has. So if you want to dip your wick in that one, fine by me. But I'd get yourself tested for crabs or the clap or whatever other STDs that vampires might be able to catch from slut hoebags since she's probably got 'em all."

"I dunno," he snickered, narrowing his amber-colored eyes as his fanged mouth hung open in a lazy grin. "She is pretty good at sucking cock. I mean, that tongue and lips of hers are nowhere as skilled as yours, but she did take it all the way and finished the job which, I'm sorry to say you've never been willing to do, which isn't to say I wouldn't be willing to give you an opportunity to change that, lass..."

Angelus punctuated his implied offer with a slight shift of his weight from one foot to the other which also thrust his hip forward in a way that left little doubt that he was more than happy to give her a chance to make up for lost time then and there.

Rising to his challenge, Brennan again took another step towards him. "You know what, Angelus?" Reaching towards the leather holder that was strapped to her shapely thigh, she reached down and unsheathed the silver dagger that she'd owned for more centuries than he'd been alive as both human and vampire combined. "I know it's been awhile since you and I have kept company, so I'll be nice and do you a favor and give you some free advice. I'd shut your fucking mouth if you're going to go on and on about either Buffy or Cordelia or Faith, unless you want me to take my dagger, slice off your balls, and then cut off your fucking head."

"I'm not afraid of you, lass," he huffed with a derisive laugh. "Yammer on all you want, but you and I both know that me bein' back in town and snuffing out that ball-withering piece of shit soul that's been weighing me down is the best fucking thing that's happened to you since the invention of the phonograph." He grunted out another throaty laugh and let his fiery eyes skim lazily over her body's curves, the memory of which made his balls tighten and his teeth ache with want of her. "You know it," he added. "You may not want to admit it, being the prideful bitch you are, but deep down inside, you know it's true. So drop the bullshit, Brennan, and put that little knife away."

Her slender fingers grasped the wicked dagger in a threatening manner before she quickly sheathed it and then said, "You know what?" She paused for a beat as she slid the dagger home. "You're right. Why make things difficult for myself? Particularly when I've never needed a dagger to lay your sorry ass low."

Although he should've known better, Angelus would later blame his lack of foresight on his rustiness of only having been free for a fairly short amount of time. He tilted his head back with a throaty snarl and bared his fangs in a distinct hiss as he took a menacing step towards her at the same time a blue orb of crackling electricity suddenly burst into existence into the palms of Brennan's outstretched hands. She splayed her fingers wide as she seemed to push the ball of energy with a brutal thrust of her palms towards him in a loud crack. Before he knew what had happened, the ball of blue light hit him square in the torso, causing him to crash back first against the brickwork of the far wall. The brutal attack would've done more than knock the air out of him if he'd been human, no doubt cracking several ribs among other things, but instead his head snapped back and hit the wall with a loud thud before he slowly slid down the rough surface. His eyes clenched shut and he used his hands to brace himself as his ass hit the floor, his forehead quickly morphing into a smoother, more human-looking one as his fangs retracted, and he looked up at her with a wounded growl the belayed his growing anger at seemingly having been made her plaything once more.

For her part, Brennan shook her head with a disdainful look on her face as she daintily stepped towards him, prowling like a cat as she approached. The tell-tale click-clacks of the spiked heels of her brown leather boots reverberated in a loud echo as she walked across the high polished wood floors of the safe house that Angelus had taken to using as his most recent lair. When she at last stood no more than a few inches away from his crumpled form, she placed her hands on her curvy hips as she knelt down between his legs before she spoke once again.

"Angelus."

The response that came was a grunt which Brennan couldn't easily discern. Her eyes narrowed as she turned her right hand in front of her and conjured another ball of flickering blue energy. It was small at first, but steady, and pulsating, just as her want and anger seemed to breathe a life of their own.

"Angelus."

At the second calling his name, the grunt turned into a more clearly mumbled set of words.

Brennan shook her head as she smacked her lips together. "I can't quite hear you, sweetness," she drawled at him.

With a twist of her wrist, the ball of energy flew forward, lifting his body upwards. Angelus found himself upright on his knees before her, his anger clear as the wisps of blue energy enveloped him and kept him firmly in place.

"Fuckin' bitch!"

She turned to face him, coming up and using the tip of her index finger to coast along the firm edge of his squared, stubbled jaw. A purr almost escaped from her as she narrowed her darkened eyes at him.

"Yes," she told him with a nod. "Fuckin' bitch, fuckin' cunt, but above all else, the fuckin' best and best at fuckin'!" She tilted her head as her hand fell away a split second before he tried to snap at her hand and failed only because the blue tendrils of energy kept him in place. "No matter what you may do, who you may kill, who you may try to best, who you fuck or maim or kill…no matter how many insipid blonde wastrels enthrall you or Angel-"

A rush of the anger she'd felt so much over the past few months and years since the story of Angel's disappearance into what Brennan thought of as the Land of the Mid-Life Crises and abandonment of her reared its head. She'd yet to vent her spleen on Angel, and truthfully, she loved him too much to unleash that anger, deep seated as it was. It went to the true depths of feelings of hurt and abandonment she felt at having seemingly been thrown over for first the Slayer and then the dimwitted brunette cheerleader that Angel had taken up with while living the last few years in California. But, Angelus? Well, punishing Angelus for making the same mistakes was something she had no qualms about venting her spleen on him about.

"Never forget that, sweetness," she grunted at him as she took her dagger from its holster and made her mark on his cheek, ever so lightly, more in a symbolic way than to do permanent damage since she knew the wound would heal as soon as he fed again. "You can fuck me if I so choose but don't ever fuck with me and expect not to pay-"

Angelus grunted, not giving her the satisfaction of howling, at the trifling cut.

"Fuckin' Brennan!"

The image of Buffy Summers and Cordelia Chase flashed in Brennan's mind as she dropped the dagger and narrowed her eyes in anger.

"You bastard," she grunted.

A hint of the darkness that she'd kept at bay for almost a century crawled from the depths of her fractured soul where she'd kept it tightly controlled for longer than Angel had had his soul returned to him. For truly the first time, Angelus saw the witch in all her evil glory as he glimpsed the terrifying spectacular evil that The One must have known was present in her from the start. Almost as if she'd been fashioned from it, the evil clung to every curve, licking at her terrifyingly beautiful features with a blood red tint that cloaked her form in hushed whispers of the violence and terror of which she was capable of wrecking.

Taking in the site, Angelus's anger dissipated into a single emotion…terrible, lustful want.

This…this…here it was. Here she was. The proof of why he'd been drawn to her time and time again. This is why she was his and he was hers. A matched pair made in Hell.

"Brennan-" he growled. "Turn me loose!"

"No." the response came simply. Instead, Brennan stopped as she caught sight of herself in the reflection of the glass of a doorway that led from a Chinese restaurant into the alley where she'd cornered him. Stopping, scaring herself, just the blurry image was enough to scare her into her own retreat. "No," she said again, more to herself as she breathed three times, closed her eyes, focused, and then forced the darkness to retreat.

Even as it did so Angelus could feel the third of her soul that he held pulsing loudly in protest as even he did the same.

"Brennan!"

Shaking her head she felt the red recede and the true blue of her powers shined through. Taking a deep breath, she bit her lip as she looked down on Angelus. She leaned forward and then whispered something in his ears, and invitation…not even sure if he heard her or not she was so soft, Angelus barely had enough time to whip his head up, his brown eyes wide before Brennan suddenly reared her booted foot back, and she kicked him as hard as she could in the balls.

This time he yelled a true cry of pain even as her blue electrical restraints retreated and he fell to the ground. Giving him one more look, Brennan stuffed her hands in her coat pockets, turned, and began to walk away.

"Brennan!"

In a crackle of energy, she was gone by the time Angelus's words finished echoing off the wet pavement and concrete building blocks that made up the alley, and he was once more alone.

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In the days that followed, no one in L.A. was quite certain how Angelus managed to leave the city let alone get to Chicago during his brief rampage during the impending apocalypse that the Beast would have brought on the city. But a brief detour was needed and made, and that was how the vampire found himself once more in Chicago for a brief visit with a very specific purpose. He'd been drawn there, like a lodestone, leaving to find her almost as soon as he'd regained consciousness.

Angelus stood there in the doorway of the master suite bathroom of her apartment in Chicago when she opened the shower door, plumes of warm steam enveloping the entire room as if to cloak them both, existing in an exquisite site of dripping eroticism almost as if painted in a scene by Titan or Raphael or Botticelli.

A goddess, Angelus was beginning to think. A dark goddess of violent epic fuckin' hotness. Hecate herself could do no better.

He leaned forward, his arms crossed over a black knit sweater that he wore under his black leather jacket and even tighter and even blacker leather pants. Brennan wasn't surprised in the least as she stepped out of the walk-in shower, glistening with droplets of water illuminating her pale body that had already been turned a pale pink from the heat of the shower's water. Never one to be shamed by her body or her sexuality, Brennan remained slow in movement, letting the vampire get a good show of her ample curves, the figure that he'd always loved to fuck senseless.

Casually, when she was certain that he had looked his fill, she turned for one of the nearby fluffy Turkish cotton towels that hung from a peg awaiting use. Taking it, she dried her hair a bit before finally speaking.

"I knew you would come," she said to him as she reached for a towel and wrapped it around her torso.

"Oh yeah?" he replied. "How'd you know that?" He licked his lips and watched her, his dark brown eyes glimmering from beneath the mantle of his prominent brow as they followed her from the shower across the room to the vanity. His fingertips itched to rip the towel off her body but he held back, amused for the time being observing her movements.

She chuckled quietly before she looked over her shoulder at him and said, "I make it my business to know when you're still about, Angelus." She wrapped her dark hair in another cream colored Turkish cotton towel and twisted it, quickly absorbing the extra water from her hair before unwinding the towel and hanging it on the rack. "You don't come around much anymore, sweetness. It's sad that I had to hunt you down to issue my offer and challenge the last time we saw each other."

Angelus, still smarting from where she had left him bested and blueballed in an alleyway in L.A. just a few days before, seemed torn in how to respond. On one hand, he was all ready get hard as he drew in the scent of her…honey and cinnamon and other spice that was tinged with the darkness that he now knew still ran deep behind the air of propriety she maintained in the guise of 'Dr. Brennan'. He inhaled deeply, feeling his balls hitch, as he licked his lips and then looked away from her, shaking his head as he grunted. The other part of him still smarted. Eventually, per his usual, his libido won out. "Cocktease."

"Never," Brennan said saucily. "I like to think of me not being a cocktease but a cock promise."

He took a step toward her and wagged his index finger at her. "You didn't play nice or fair, Brennan," he tsked her. "Fuckin' me up as a prelude to us fuckin' each other is one thing. Kickin' me in the balls and then leaving me hard to boot is an almost unforgivable sin, you heartless bitch."

Shrugging her shoulders, Brennan remained neutral as she countered, "I was pissed off. You should be lucky I didn't cut your balls off and stuff them down your throat."

The vampire laughed and flashed his dark eyebrows at her. "Promises, promises," he grunted. "So if I'm to believe that you've missed me, does that mean I'm forgiven?" he asked her. He pushed away from the doorframe that he'd been leaning against and walked towards her.

"That depends," Brennan countered as she pointed her index finger at him. "Have you remembered what it's like to fuck a real woman and so decided not to tarry in the Land of Snatchdale?"

Angelus grunted. "If I tell you yes, are you going to believe me?"

"Probably not," Brennan admitted. "But I might believe you long enough to let you fuck me into forgetting." She drew a brush through her damp hair, twisted it into a knot and clipped it high on the back of her head before removing her towel, draping it over the hook on the back of the door and striding over to the toilet.

"You have no shame, lass," he said. "No shame, no modesty, and no—"

Brennan could feel his eyes on her as she bent over and reached into a box on the floor next to the toilet.

"Fear," she said, finishing his sentence for him. "I've never been afraid of you, sweetness. I never have, and I never will."

"Mmmm," he murmured, his lip curving into a crooked smirk as he watched her. He made a tsk-tsk sound with his tongue and shook his head. "Aww, come on, lass," he said to her. "You know there's nothing I like better than the smell of your sweet snatch drippin' with want of me."

Brennan snickered in spite of herself, then turned around, put her hands on her hips and gave him a mocking, skeptical stare.

"So this isn't just a social call?" she asked him, returning his lascivious smirk with one of her own.

"Depends what you mean by 'social,' lass," he said, raising his chin as he waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "And don't tell me you had other plans, hmm? Not after that little scene in the alley where you trussed me, cut me, and kicked me in the balls. And all o' that isn't the worst part."

Angelus licked his lips as his brown eyes had darkened to black chips of obsidian. "Finally showin' me yours after all this time, and not stayin' long enough for me to show you mine." He savored the memory of the evil she'd finally truly let him glimpse. "Mmmm. Yes, lass. The worst part was you runnin' off like that when we have so much unfinished business. 'Cause I tell ya, I have plans for you." He reached down and rubbed the crotch of his black leather pants, grinning as he drew her attention to the noticeable bulge just above the inseam. "Wickedly good plans for you."

"Really," Brennan huffed in as thoroughly unimpressed a tone as she could muster, knowing that the game was over before it had begun because both she and her dark-hearted sparring partner knew precisely how aroused the other one was. "You're quite presumptuous tonight, sweetness. The true fact of the matter is that I've got midterm papers to grade, and so you'll just have to wait until—"

Angelus stepped forward and, in a move so swift the timing caught Brennan by surprise even if the fact that he'd moved in didn't faze her at all, grabbed her firmly by the hips and jerked her towards him.

"I wait for no one," he growled into her ear, his voice deep and hoarse, vibrating through her like a roll of distant thunder.

"Bullshit, Angelus," she retorted, turning her head to the side so her lips were just a fraction of an inch from his. "You waited for me," she whispered, letting the lips of her open mouth brush against his, her tongue darting out to tease the top of his lower lip, which after so many years she knew was one of his especially sensitive places. "You fed on your way here," she said, smiling as she watched his tongue slide across the bottom of his teeth. He knew all too well how sexy she found his tongue, and he was perfectly willing to tease her to get her turned on. She took a half-step back and opened the distance between their mouths.

"I can smell her blood on your breath," she told him. "I can taste it. I can even smell her perfume. But you didn't fuck her. You say you don't wait for anyone? Bullshit, Angelus. You'll always wait for me. However long you have to. And you always will, won't you, sweetness? You'll always wait for me."

"You think so, lass?" he sneered, reaching for her upper arm, his fingers pressing hard into her soft, shower-damp skin. "You think you're pretty fucking smart, don't ya?"

"I know I am," Brennan shot back. "And I know you want nothing more than to fuck me, right goddamn now." She wrested her arm free of his grasp and walked into the bedroom. "You came all this way," she called over her shoulder. "I can only imagine that delicious-looking hard-on of yours is getting quite painful after you having to go without for a few days? I'm surprised you can even manage to speak in complete sentences at this point, Angelus."

She glanced down at her bed and grimaced slightly at the untidy tangle of sheets. She turned to him, smirking as she surveyed his form, standing there in a dark midnight-blue button-down shirt, its top two buttons left undone to reveal a wide 'v' of warm olive skin, tucked into a pair snug-fitting black leather pants accented by a shiny silver belt buckle with an embossed owl design.

"So what are you waiting for?" she asked him, licking her lips in anticipation as he strode across the room with hunger in his eyes. Brennan heard a quiet, almost inaudible growl sound low in his throat as she turned and walked towards her dresser. She reached down and was about to pull open her underwear drawer when she heard him move and, a fraction of a second later, felt him slam into her from behind, pinning the tops of her thighs against the mahogany dresser.

"There'll be no more waitin', lass," he grunted, palming the small of her back as he pushed her forward so she was bent over the top of her dresser. "I've waited long enough..." He reached his hand between her legs and swiped his thick middle finger between her slippery folds.

"And it seems you're done waiting, too," he added, his voice dropping another half-octave as he took a half-step back, holding her in place with his hand as he jabbed his knee sharply into the back of her thigh. He unbuckled his belt, thumbed open his leather pants and unzipped his fly, peeling them off his hips as his achingly hard cock sprang free of its confines. Shoving his pants down to rest just above his knees, he leaned into her again, holding himself in a firm grip as he parted her legs roughly.

Angelus rimmed her for a moment, pausing to pull back and admire the way his swollen tip glistened with the combined slickness of his precum, her arousal, then laughed out loud, jerking his hips back and ramming into her.

"Holy fuckin' hell," he grunted as he slid out of her and drove in again with a growl. He rolled his hips back and forth, stroking in and out of her. "You like the way that feels, lass? My fat, hard cock in that tight pussy o yours?" He punctuated his question with a loud grunt and a particularly hard thrust as he buried himself balls-deep into her.

"Mmm," she murmured, turning her head and glancing back over her shoulder at him with her eyebrows raised. "Maybe," she replied noncommittally, her mouth falling open into a sharp gasp as he drilled into her, bringing his hips snug against the curve of her ass as he peeled his shirt over his head and tossed it carelessly to the side.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ, you're tight," he rasped as he arched himself over her, his hard, flat male nipples dragging over the smooth skin of her back as he held her hip with one hand and brought the other up to cup her shoulder. He could feel her heartbeat through her back as it pressed against his chest and his nostrils filled with a tapestry of scents—her musky arousal, made even more mouth-watering to him by the fragrance of her pear-clove bodywash and her coconut-ginger shampoo—all of it swirling in his nose with the growing scent of her sweat that became more powerful with each of his grunting strokes as he fucked her. His balls tightened as he inhaled a deep whiff of her, a growl escaping from his throat as his heavy sack smacked against the ivory skin of her deliciously round ass.

"How can you be this fuckin' tight after four hundred fuckin' years, lass? Are you tellin' me that I'm the only one that's been fuckin' you all these years?"

"You wish," Brennan growled back to him, sucking in a sharp breath as he bottomed out hard inside of her, lingering there for a few moments.

"Proof, then, that you're in sore need of a good fuckin' then," he laughed. "Those little pencil-dicks you've been toyin' around with are clearly not gettin' the job done, the sad sod tosser of my dubious doppelganger included, hmm?"

Her rage seethed at the mention of Angel as she snarled at him in a low voice, "Do not mention him."

She felt him shift, leaning harder against her back, the sweaty skin of his chest dragging over her spine in the moments before she heard him snarl and then, in an instant, the familiar feel of his fangs scraping along the curve at the base of her neck.

"You over reaching bastard!" she grunted, pushing herself away from the dresser and sending him flying backwards, his hard, frustrated cock slipping out of her as he fell backwards onto the foot of her bed. She whirled around and leveled a dark, rigid stare at him, her lip curling back in anger as he dared to try to take from her what she'd only ever given Angel. Even in her anger, she would not give that to Angelus.

"You take nothing from me that I don't give you," she snarled. "Or have you forgotten that, sweetness? You don't get to 'take' me like one of your little teenage L.A. whores..."

Angelus stared back at her, his fanged mouth gaping open as his thickened, deeply creased demonic brow hung low and hard over his sparkling, amber-hued eyes. He seemed distracted somewhat as he realized that Brennan had called him off, and her display of anger again distracted him. For several long seconds he lay back against his hands, watching to see what her next move would be, then his own highly aroused impatience got the better of him. He toed his shoes off with a grunt, then quickly shucked off his socks and leather pants.

"So," he said with a low, dark laugh as he leaned back with a crooked grin, reaching down between his legs and grasping the base of his cock, brandishing it for her as she slowly sauntered over to the bed. He closed his fist around it, flicking his tongue against his lower fangs as he felt her wetness, slippery with each languid stroke he gave himself. "You want to come over here and finish what we started? Or are you gonna call one of your little lame-ass pussy graduate students to come service you in my stead? Hmm? What's it gonna be, Brennan?"

"Move," she said to him, her eyes narrowed but bright with angry passion. "Get that moderately useful sexy ass of yours on that bed before I throw your sorry self out of here, Angelus. Right. Damn. Now."

Giving himself one more stroke, he let his hand fall away as he scooted back onto her bed, walking his way, crablike and backwards, towards the stack of pillows that lined the headboard. Brennan quickly followed, crawling on the bed on her hands and knees and stalking him until she straddled his hips. A flashed of bright blue crackled before her eyes, convincing the vampire to leave unspoken whatever clever remark he had considered unleashing in that moment. He leaned his head back and swallowed as he watched her raise herself up and suddenly impale herself on his slicked cock.

"Oh, Jesus fucking—"

Before he realized what she was going to do, she leaned forward and cut him off with a hard, angry kiss, her flat, hard human teeth crashing into the ragged row of his demonic teeth, her tongue sliding across his lips and twirling around the points of his upper fangs the way she knew drove him wild with lust and bloodthirst. She leaned hard into her hands as she jerked her body over him, giving herself as much leverage as she could as she tried to fuck him as hard as he'd fucked her just moments before against the dresser, all the while keeping her neck from him.

After a particularly hard, rolling thrust that left her feeling his sack right against the tenderest, silkiest curve of her bottom, she pulled her mouth away from his with a throaty groan and rasped, "I take what I want, when I want it—just like you do, sweetness. That's why you keep coming back to me, isn't it?" She rocked her hips back and plunged herself onto him again, throwing her head back with a gasping sigh as she brought her hand down between her legs and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Oh, fuck," Angelus moaned as he felt her tighten around him, looking down at the place where they were joined as she rubbed tight little circles with her finger over her own swollen flesh as the moisture dribbled out of her, soaking the curls where their bodies met. "Fuck, oh fuck, yes," he grunted, whether in response to her query or as a general cry of pleasure, it was unclear.

"You will always keep coming back," she hissed at him as her eyes snapped open and flashed a bright azure blue. "Ohhh, fuck—isn't that right?" The glow of deep turquoise to electric blue energy flared, pricking hard and hot against his skin as he her body clenching firmly around him before fluttering as her release washed over her with a long, throaty groan.

"Yes, fuckin' yes!" he grunted as he felt his own release take him completely unaware that Brennan was muttering a strange charm of her own under her breath.

No, this time it wouldn't be her who would forget, but it would be Angelus. Fucked and forgotten and sent on his way back to wear she knew Angel's fate awaited him.

PPPPPPPPPP

As his eyes blinked open, sweat having dribbled down his smooth brow as he slept, Angel reached up and rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand. His brow was smooth, albeit dotted with perspiration, as he opened his mouth and ran his tongue along the bottom of his teeth, feeling nothing but a smooth line along the underside of his incisors and no fangs. He turned his head and reached his arm out, patting the cool surface of the sheet next to him, pouting in disappointment to find himself alone.

A dream? Fuck…

With a soft grunt, he sat up in bed, his hips squirming against the sweat-creased sheets as he glanced over at the window and recognized by the soft indigo hue between the drapes that there was an hour or so of night left before the dawn would shatter the twilight.

It was so real…

Angel tried to figure out what was real and what wasn't, trying to place the time and memory of Angelus fucking Brennan senseless in her apartment in Chicago, dressed as he'd been during his escape some months before during the rampage of the Beast. And even in that, a splinter of him remembered, she hadn't given all of herself to Angelus. Sex, yes? Feeding on her, no. Was that because she kept that for him alone?

So many questions rang in his sleep addled mind. So many...

Wrecking his brain, Angel couldn't make sense of things even as he struggled to tell memories from dream. Still somewhat disoriented from sleep, he threw the sheet off of his hip and that's when he realized that the sheet was damp, not just from his sweat, but with the silvery remnant of his release.

Sitting all the way up in bed, he rubbed his eyes again and called out to her.

"Bren? Where are you?"

PPPPPPPPPPP

The End

PPPPPPPPPPP

A/N2: So, I know one of the things everyone has been dying to see is a bit of the evil that Angelus and others have long sensed in Brennan and why she was special enough to hold the interest of The One for as long as she had. Here is a glimpse. Also, if anyone didn't note, Brennan has often said in the past that she is the only one who ever could work magic on Angel-Booth. Who knew she had, to this point, actually gone beyond a few hocus-pocus parlor tricks of keeping him restrained and knocking good ole Angelus about, as he would say? But it was a dream, right? Or so Angel thought? Mmmm hmmm. Seeds planted, my friends, for things in the future that will bear fruit, I promise. In the meantime, just so I know I'm not talking to myself, I'd love to hear what you think if you're so inclined to review. Until next time, ta!