Okay guys, I made NC-17 versions of part 18 and 19. I will keep the story at ffnet PG-13, so that anyone who is interested can read it. If you would like to get the NC-17 versions, just e-mail me: Connemara.Scarlets@t-online.de
The Night Remembers - Part 18 (PG-13-version)
By Jill
Angel felt the tingling sensation in his dream. He'd felt it before. His
dreams of Buffy had always been vivid. New was the smell. He could actually
smell her. And she smelled good. Like vanilla and some other herbs. And like
flowers, like a meadow full of spring flowers. And most of all she smelled
like sunshine. Like his own personal ray of sunshine.
He sighed in his sleep, welcoming the dream, like he was welcoming the
relaxing slumber. Maybe due to exhaustion, he guessed. At some point his
body had to give in. And now it obviously had. Besides, this was so much
better than just laying awake and thinking about things that might never be.
Her hands were running through his hair now, then trailing down the skin of
his face, tracing his brows, his lids, his nose, his mouth, then replaced by
warm lips breathing over his cold ones.
God, this dream was vivid. Maybe he was losing it. Finally. But at the
moment he didn't care. He wanted more, wanted everything, and wanted the
redemption that was Buffy. He reached out, his arms encircling her tiny
form, pulling her closer. He could hear her moan and chuckle against her
lips. They curved into a smile. He could feel it. And in response he smiled
as well.
The attack of her tongue on his earlobe was so unexpected after this that he
had to suck in a sharp breath. A hiss. He could hear her giggle, feel her
lips tremble against his ear. God, this was heaven. Her hands were flat on
his chest, the warmth of them almost branding his skin, making him shiver
allover. He needed to get closer, and closer. For a second he was afraid to
crush her, but this was a dream, so no worries there.
He sighed again, giving himself up completely to this dream, and began to
remove the straps of her tank top, when she suddenly sneezed. Against his
ear. With a giggle and a muffled "sorry" and he wanted to smile when it hit
him. He felt... actually felt... the wetness behind his ear.
With something between a shout and a groan he bolted upright in bed, his
eyes flying open, while a person was almost catapulted to the floor.
"Hey!" she protested. "I really liked it there."
Buffy.
"Wh- what are you doing here?" he asked, his eyes staring at her in shock,
one of his hands clutching the sheets to his waist, for the first time
regretting his habit to sleep without clothes. "Have you completely lost
your mind?"
As a response she smiled. Wickedly. Angel couldn't believe it. What was the
woman up to? "Not yet," was all she said, then - God help him - licked her
lips. Slowly. Then with a sigh found a comfortable spot at the bottom of the
bed and stretched there. Like a cat. Angel clutched the bed sheet closer.
"Would you please tell me, what this is all about?" he almost shouted,
almost grateful that he could feel anger rising. Anger was good. It was
emotion. And it would cover up all the other emotions he was feeling right
now. Emotions he mustn't feel. Emotions that were dangerous.
"What does it look like?" she asked simply, still smiling. Catlike.
**Oh man!**
The last possible second Angel suppressed a groan, but he felt his body
respond and at the moment it really didn't help. "What happened to you? Is
something wrong?"
"Wrong?" she shrugged. "What do you think could be wrong?" Pulling her legs
under herself, she sat up, looking at him. "Or do you think the little fact
that you tried to hide from me what Willow found out. That tiny, completely
unimportant detail about your soul?"
"Wha-," he had to clear his throat. No, she couldn't know, could she? **Dear
God**. He licked his suddenly dry lips, "About my soul?"
"Don't do this," her voice was sharp as a whip. "Don't play dumb. Willow and
Cordelia told me about the possibility of fixing your curse. Why?" she
asked, locking her eyes with his. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Buffy, I-"
"And don't give me that crap about me not being able to decide. I'm 20 years
old, I'm a legal adult, amnesia or no, I have a mind on my own and it's
still working properly." Her eyes never leaving his face, she got on her
knees and crawled closer. "I love you, Angel. And you said you love me.
What's wrong with it?"
"Buffy, please." There was pain in his eyes, but there was love as well, and
longing, such terrible longing that it almost broke her heart, and suddenly
she understood. Suddenly it wasn't difficult anymore.
"Do you want me?" she asked huskily, her hands on his knees. "Angel, do you
want me?"
"More than anything," he replied, lost in her hazel orbs.
"I'm not going to send you away. You're not going to lose me again. Whatever
happens, I love you," she promised.
"God, how I want to believe that. But you can't say that, Buffy," his voice
was loaded with emotion. "You can't say that without knowing all the facts."
"You think so? I think love is enough, and I don't believe that I ever
stopped loving you, that anything could make me stop loving you. You're in
me," she put a hand over her heart. "Here, deep inside of me. A part of me.
How could I remove a part of me from my life?"
He closed his eyes, fighting the emotions raging inside of him, trying to
hold them at bay. His hands curling into fists, so hard, the knuckles went
white. "Please, Buffy. Don't. I can't," he tried to reason, but even then he
knew he had lost. He was falling already, fast and deep, with no net. All he
could do was hope that she would catch him. Forever.
"Shhh," he heard her voice. Opening his eyes he saw her face only an inch
away from his, his eyes involuntarily flying to the soft curve of her
inviting mouth, then back to her the hazel orbs that followed him into all
his dreams. "Don't be afraid," she whispered. "I'm here. And you're not
going to lose me. We'll never be separated again. I promise." Her hands were
cupping his cheeks, while her lips were brushing over his. "I love you," she
whispered against them. "So very much."
It was over. He couldn't fight it. Not anymore. Not with her being near, not
with the possibility of forever in his head.
((Forever. How does forever sound for you?))
But there was still a small rational part of him and he was glad he had the
strength to summon it now. "Buffy, we need to prepare this," he said
urgently, cupping her hands with his, pulling them down and looking at her
intently. "If we're going to do this, we need Willow to prepare."
She smiled again. Lovingly, knowingly. "She already has. Everything is set
up," she informed him, her heart beating frantically, her soul singing with
joy. "You don't think I came unprepared, do you? That I would try to
persuade you and leave you to build all those walls again. No way buddy,"
she suddenly grinned, "Outside, Gunn, Cordy and Wesley are waiting with the
chains."
"Oh fun," Angel sighed, but he was laughing at the same time. He had given
up fighting this and it felt... good. It felt wonderful. He felt free. There
was danger coming to Sunnydale, there was an ancient vampire on its way but
at the moment he didn't care. All that counted was this warm, loving,
beautiful woman who offered forever to him. His face softened, his eyes
filled with love. Letting go of her hands he cupped her face in his, then he
kissed her, gently, softly. "I love you," he whispered. **And God help us**,
he prayed when he pulled her on top of him.
"I love you," she said again, her lips searching for his mouth, her tongue
darting out, tracing his lips, her teeth nibbling, teasing, wanting.
With the ridiculously small bit of rational mind he pulled back for the last
time, "You're absolutely sure about this?" he asked, hating that he couldn't
just let him push ahead, whether she was sure or not. But he had to. This
was Buffy, and he had to know.
"I should be asking you," she answered, one of her hands caressing his
chest, "but I won't. Because you would try to argue again and we can't have
that now. Living is risking things, Angel, and I'm ready. Life without you
is worth nothing, this is our chance, and I'm not going to miss it, whatever
the risks are."
The remaining fear vanished into the air. She was right. It was worth any
risk. He would die for her, and he would do this. For her. For himself. For
them. Together you are strong. The Mohra's words still rang in his ears as
if it had said it yesterday and not on a day, long forgotten, alive only in
his dreams. "I love you," he whispered and then the world around them was
forgotten.
... to be continued
The Night Remembers - Part 18 (PG-13-version)
By Jill
Angel felt the tingling sensation in his dream. He'd felt it before. His
dreams of Buffy had always been vivid. New was the smell. He could actually
smell her. And she smelled good. Like vanilla and some other herbs. And like
flowers, like a meadow full of spring flowers. And most of all she smelled
like sunshine. Like his own personal ray of sunshine.
He sighed in his sleep, welcoming the dream, like he was welcoming the
relaxing slumber. Maybe due to exhaustion, he guessed. At some point his
body had to give in. And now it obviously had. Besides, this was so much
better than just laying awake and thinking about things that might never be.
Her hands were running through his hair now, then trailing down the skin of
his face, tracing his brows, his lids, his nose, his mouth, then replaced by
warm lips breathing over his cold ones.
God, this dream was vivid. Maybe he was losing it. Finally. But at the
moment he didn't care. He wanted more, wanted everything, and wanted the
redemption that was Buffy. He reached out, his arms encircling her tiny
form, pulling her closer. He could hear her moan and chuckle against her
lips. They curved into a smile. He could feel it. And in response he smiled
as well.
The attack of her tongue on his earlobe was so unexpected after this that he
had to suck in a sharp breath. A hiss. He could hear her giggle, feel her
lips tremble against his ear. God, this was heaven. Her hands were flat on
his chest, the warmth of them almost branding his skin, making him shiver
allover. He needed to get closer, and closer. For a second he was afraid to
crush her, but this was a dream, so no worries there.
He sighed again, giving himself up completely to this dream, and began to
remove the straps of her tank top, when she suddenly sneezed. Against his
ear. With a giggle and a muffled "sorry" and he wanted to smile when it hit
him. He felt... actually felt... the wetness behind his ear.
With something between a shout and a groan he bolted upright in bed, his
eyes flying open, while a person was almost catapulted to the floor.
"Hey!" she protested. "I really liked it there."
Buffy.
"Wh- what are you doing here?" he asked, his eyes staring at her in shock,
one of his hands clutching the sheets to his waist, for the first time
regretting his habit to sleep without clothes. "Have you completely lost
your mind?"
As a response she smiled. Wickedly. Angel couldn't believe it. What was the
woman up to? "Not yet," was all she said, then - God help him - licked her
lips. Slowly. Then with a sigh found a comfortable spot at the bottom of the
bed and stretched there. Like a cat. Angel clutched the bed sheet closer.
"Would you please tell me, what this is all about?" he almost shouted,
almost grateful that he could feel anger rising. Anger was good. It was
emotion. And it would cover up all the other emotions he was feeling right
now. Emotions he mustn't feel. Emotions that were dangerous.
"What does it look like?" she asked simply, still smiling. Catlike.
**Oh man!**
The last possible second Angel suppressed a groan, but he felt his body
respond and at the moment it really didn't help. "What happened to you? Is
something wrong?"
"Wrong?" she shrugged. "What do you think could be wrong?" Pulling her legs
under herself, she sat up, looking at him. "Or do you think the little fact
that you tried to hide from me what Willow found out. That tiny, completely
unimportant detail about your soul?"
"Wha-," he had to clear his throat. No, she couldn't know, could she? **Dear
God**. He licked his suddenly dry lips, "About my soul?"
"Don't do this," her voice was sharp as a whip. "Don't play dumb. Willow and
Cordelia told me about the possibility of fixing your curse. Why?" she
asked, locking her eyes with his. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Buffy, I-"
"And don't give me that crap about me not being able to decide. I'm 20 years
old, I'm a legal adult, amnesia or no, I have a mind on my own and it's
still working properly." Her eyes never leaving his face, she got on her
knees and crawled closer. "I love you, Angel. And you said you love me.
What's wrong with it?"
"Buffy, please." There was pain in his eyes, but there was love as well, and
longing, such terrible longing that it almost broke her heart, and suddenly
she understood. Suddenly it wasn't difficult anymore.
"Do you want me?" she asked huskily, her hands on his knees. "Angel, do you
want me?"
"More than anything," he replied, lost in her hazel orbs.
"I'm not going to send you away. You're not going to lose me again. Whatever
happens, I love you," she promised.
"God, how I want to believe that. But you can't say that, Buffy," his voice
was loaded with emotion. "You can't say that without knowing all the facts."
"You think so? I think love is enough, and I don't believe that I ever
stopped loving you, that anything could make me stop loving you. You're in
me," she put a hand over her heart. "Here, deep inside of me. A part of me.
How could I remove a part of me from my life?"
He closed his eyes, fighting the emotions raging inside of him, trying to
hold them at bay. His hands curling into fists, so hard, the knuckles went
white. "Please, Buffy. Don't. I can't," he tried to reason, but even then he
knew he had lost. He was falling already, fast and deep, with no net. All he
could do was hope that she would catch him. Forever.
"Shhh," he heard her voice. Opening his eyes he saw her face only an inch
away from his, his eyes involuntarily flying to the soft curve of her
inviting mouth, then back to her the hazel orbs that followed him into all
his dreams. "Don't be afraid," she whispered. "I'm here. And you're not
going to lose me. We'll never be separated again. I promise." Her hands were
cupping his cheeks, while her lips were brushing over his. "I love you," she
whispered against them. "So very much."
It was over. He couldn't fight it. Not anymore. Not with her being near, not
with the possibility of forever in his head.
((Forever. How does forever sound for you?))
But there was still a small rational part of him and he was glad he had the
strength to summon it now. "Buffy, we need to prepare this," he said
urgently, cupping her hands with his, pulling them down and looking at her
intently. "If we're going to do this, we need Willow to prepare."
She smiled again. Lovingly, knowingly. "She already has. Everything is set
up," she informed him, her heart beating frantically, her soul singing with
joy. "You don't think I came unprepared, do you? That I would try to
persuade you and leave you to build all those walls again. No way buddy,"
she suddenly grinned, "Outside, Gunn, Cordy and Wesley are waiting with the
chains."
"Oh fun," Angel sighed, but he was laughing at the same time. He had given
up fighting this and it felt... good. It felt wonderful. He felt free. There
was danger coming to Sunnydale, there was an ancient vampire on its way but
at the moment he didn't care. All that counted was this warm, loving,
beautiful woman who offered forever to him. His face softened, his eyes
filled with love. Letting go of her hands he cupped her face in his, then he
kissed her, gently, softly. "I love you," he whispered. **And God help us**,
he prayed when he pulled her on top of him.
"I love you," she said again, her lips searching for his mouth, her tongue
darting out, tracing his lips, her teeth nibbling, teasing, wanting.
With the ridiculously small bit of rational mind he pulled back for the last
time, "You're absolutely sure about this?" he asked, hating that he couldn't
just let him push ahead, whether she was sure or not. But he had to. This
was Buffy, and he had to know.
"I should be asking you," she answered, one of her hands caressing his
chest, "but I won't. Because you would try to argue again and we can't have
that now. Living is risking things, Angel, and I'm ready. Life without you
is worth nothing, this is our chance, and I'm not going to miss it, whatever
the risks are."
The remaining fear vanished into the air. She was right. It was worth any
risk. He would die for her, and he would do this. For her. For himself. For
them. Together you are strong. The Mohra's words still rang in his ears as
if it had said it yesterday and not on a day, long forgotten, alive only in
his dreams. "I love you," he whispered and then the world around them was
forgotten.
... to be continued