The Night Remembers - Part 26
"They've been gone awfully long," Kate remarked about two hours later,
looking up from a book Wesley had pressed into her hands. After the first
shocked gasps in seeing the pictures of extremely ugly demons in it, she'd
managed to concentrate on the facts and actually be a lot of help in
research.
"Patrol is unpredictable," Willow said with the voice of experience.
"Even more so now," Giles added, reaching for his tea. Taking a sip he
sighed deeply then pulled his glasses off and rubbed his tired eyes. "We
know a lot by now about the Gate of Hell. What we still don't know who this
master vampire is. None of the books give the slightest hint."
"I've been through every web-page I know," Cordelia announced from her spot
behind the laptop, "The oldest vamp I found is 500 years. But Angel said
even the one they met last night was older." With a shake of her head she
leaned back, running her hand through her short hair. "One would think that
vamps of that age should have met at least one watcher or a slayer, but this
guy must have laid low for a very long time."
"That's it," suddenly excited Wesley jumped up from his chair, walked
quickly to the large table in one of the corners, and came back with a thick
book. "Rupert," he addressed the watcher, "Cordelia is right."
"I am?" the brunette asked, not quite understanding what they were talking
about, but liking the attention nevertheless. "Well, I mostly am," she
added, "still most of the time nobody cares to listen."
Wesley ignored her comment, "We were only researching vampires that actually
crossed the path of humans, that walked the earth." He shook his head over
his own stupidity, "We should've thought about vampires that aren't. That,"
he looked up, locking his eyes with Giles', "have been confined."
Understanding dawned in the older man's eyes, "Like the master Buffy killed
some years ago. He wasn't able to walk the earth. Good God, what if this
particular master was confined by the -"
"Demon's Dimension," Willow finished his sentence.
"Exactly," Wesley nodded at her. "What if all this was meant not only to
free the heart of evil, but first and foremost to free the master."
"But..." Tara stammered, her eyes wide with dread, "that w-would mean it
could be any m-master. There must be more then one down there."
"Really not liking the idea," Xander had paled visibly.
"What if they're trying to free all of them?" Dawn asked innocently. Instant
silence settled over the room, only disturbed by some shocked gasps. The
slayer's sister felt herself suddenly very much as the center of attention.
"Uh... it was just a thought," she said helplessly.
"Unfortunately," Giles said, his voice grave, "it was a good one. What if
really?"
****
"Wow," Faith straightened her back, then looked down at herself and with a
grin, brushed her clothes to get rid of the vampire ashes that settled all
over her. "This is number 10 for tonight. Talk about action around here.
Sunnydale definitely has changed. But hey, I was brought here to slay, and
here we are, slaying like champions." Suddenly she cocked her head and gazed
at the vampire standing beside her, "What I wanted to ask. How come you've
joined this game?"
"Game?" he raised a brow at her.
"Yeah, game," she pointed the stake in her hand at him and Spike
unconsciously stepped back. "You know. Good versus evil. I mean you're a big
badass vampire, right? I know about the chip, but why are you hanging around
the slayer?"
Uncomfortable with the subject Spike turned away, "You think there might be
more around?" he asked, looking into the darkness that for his preternatural
eyes was just a little darker than dawn.
"Still not enough fighting for you?" she joked behind him. "Well, teeth-boy,
I suppose tomorrow night you get everything you're dreaming about."
He muttered something unintelligible under his breath, and then turned
around, "And what's the matter with you. A slayer turned evil? Not the
average kind either." He saw her flinch at his words and almost felt bad for
her. Almost. "You've still got your soul and stuff, so what's your excuse."
"None of your business," she snapped, thrusting the stake under her
waistband. Suddenly she smirked, "Didn't think you liked being around your
grand-daddy. I mean, I've only heard about you two sharing a woman, but,"
she let her eyes roam over his figure, "comparing the two of you it isn't
hard to guess who won."
"Fuck you," Spike snarled, spinning away from her, and began to walk.
"Oh," she grinned, following him, "I've hit a nerve, haven't I. Poor Blondie
has lost a girl to Angel. Maybe it wasn't just one," she guessed and he
actually flinched. The same moment it hit her, "Oh holy shit, you have the
hots for B." Her laugh was loud and incredulous. "There has to be something
about her that all the undead fall for her. Goodness gracious," she shook
her head. "So first you lose your vampire honey and now you've got to watch
Angel banging the new flame. What a pathetic life."
Spike stopped instantly, whirled around and got right into her face, "Oh,
and you are so much better, huh?" he growled. "Your so called friends got
you out of jail, and for what? To feed you to some loony vampire master that
sees himself as the new ruler."
It cut deep. His words sliced through her like a knife, but Faith struggled
not to let him see how much he hurt her. She knew exactly why Angel got her
out of jail for a few days, why Kate had brought her to Sunnydale. But it
hurt hearing someone saying it loud and in such a hurtful way. But she also
remembered Angel risking everything, even his relationship with Buffy, to
help her. And somehow that counted more.
So she managed to smile coolly at him, "At least I have friends, while you,"
she shrugged, "But then you're just an evil vampire. With a little chip in
his head of course." She reached out and patted his cheek with her hand in
mocked pity, "Poor vampy."
He growled again and narrowed his eyes. Damn, this girl was tough. She
wasn't like Buffy, or Red, or all the other human girls. She wouldn't back
down. She didn't break and start to cry in front of him. He knew he'd hurt
her, but she held her head high and didn't try to evade his eyes.
Involuntarily Spike felt himself admiring her. And by God, he thought, she
is beautiful with all that anger in her eyes, her hair flying in the nightly
breeze.
Plus he'd seen her power when she fought by his side. She was the same
deadly weapon as Buffy, but unlike the blond slayer, she'd tasted the dark
side, smelled the temptation of evil, felt the power of killing.
Spike felt his body respond, quickly, urgently, powerfully and before he
could think twice he surprised himself and her by pulling her roughly to him
and capturing her lips in a passionate kiss.
****
"Angel," Buffy breathed when he finally raised his head, they were staring
into each other's eyes. She felt her heart beat frantically in her chest,
forgotten were all the demons and the danger surrounding them. Forgotten
also the pain of hearing the very dark hours of their relationship.
"Buffy," he responded, not letting go of her, holding her, his hand
caressing her back, sending goose bumps allover her body. They were
mesmerized, caught in each other. There was nothing, but them, no vampires,
no prophecies, no Gate of Hell.
Drawing a shaky breath Angel closed his eyes for a moment, then exhaled the
unneeded air. "I want you," he admitted on a little, shaky laugh. "But this
isn't the time and place for it."
"I want you too," she replied.
"Buffy," he all but growled.
She suddenly giggled in his arms, "I always wanted to make love to you in a
graveyard."
"Oh God," he groaned.
"Oh, yes," she whispered, passion searing through her. "I want you, Angel,"
she repeated her words from just before. "Now."
"This is madness," he whispered, but already felt himself give in, her warm,
sensual body too tempting in his arms, he realized that he was already
pushing her into the direction of a crypt. "Buffy," he whispered her name
again. It sounded almost exotic in his passion colored, hoarse voice.
"Yes, madness," she agreed, "let us be crazy together," she whispered, before
words became unnecessary.
... to be continued
There exists a NC-17 version or that part. If you are of age and want it, just mail me! Connemara.Scarlets@t-online.de
"They've been gone awfully long," Kate remarked about two hours later,
looking up from a book Wesley had pressed into her hands. After the first
shocked gasps in seeing the pictures of extremely ugly demons in it, she'd
managed to concentrate on the facts and actually be a lot of help in
research.
"Patrol is unpredictable," Willow said with the voice of experience.
"Even more so now," Giles added, reaching for his tea. Taking a sip he
sighed deeply then pulled his glasses off and rubbed his tired eyes. "We
know a lot by now about the Gate of Hell. What we still don't know who this
master vampire is. None of the books give the slightest hint."
"I've been through every web-page I know," Cordelia announced from her spot
behind the laptop, "The oldest vamp I found is 500 years. But Angel said
even the one they met last night was older." With a shake of her head she
leaned back, running her hand through her short hair. "One would think that
vamps of that age should have met at least one watcher or a slayer, but this
guy must have laid low for a very long time."
"That's it," suddenly excited Wesley jumped up from his chair, walked
quickly to the large table in one of the corners, and came back with a thick
book. "Rupert," he addressed the watcher, "Cordelia is right."
"I am?" the brunette asked, not quite understanding what they were talking
about, but liking the attention nevertheless. "Well, I mostly am," she
added, "still most of the time nobody cares to listen."
Wesley ignored her comment, "We were only researching vampires that actually
crossed the path of humans, that walked the earth." He shook his head over
his own stupidity, "We should've thought about vampires that aren't. That,"
he looked up, locking his eyes with Giles', "have been confined."
Understanding dawned in the older man's eyes, "Like the master Buffy killed
some years ago. He wasn't able to walk the earth. Good God, what if this
particular master was confined by the -"
"Demon's Dimension," Willow finished his sentence.
"Exactly," Wesley nodded at her. "What if all this was meant not only to
free the heart of evil, but first and foremost to free the master."
"But..." Tara stammered, her eyes wide with dread, "that w-would mean it
could be any m-master. There must be more then one down there."
"Really not liking the idea," Xander had paled visibly.
"What if they're trying to free all of them?" Dawn asked innocently. Instant
silence settled over the room, only disturbed by some shocked gasps. The
slayer's sister felt herself suddenly very much as the center of attention.
"Uh... it was just a thought," she said helplessly.
"Unfortunately," Giles said, his voice grave, "it was a good one. What if
really?"
****
"Wow," Faith straightened her back, then looked down at herself and with a
grin, brushed her clothes to get rid of the vampire ashes that settled all
over her. "This is number 10 for tonight. Talk about action around here.
Sunnydale definitely has changed. But hey, I was brought here to slay, and
here we are, slaying like champions." Suddenly she cocked her head and gazed
at the vampire standing beside her, "What I wanted to ask. How come you've
joined this game?"
"Game?" he raised a brow at her.
"Yeah, game," she pointed the stake in her hand at him and Spike
unconsciously stepped back. "You know. Good versus evil. I mean you're a big
badass vampire, right? I know about the chip, but why are you hanging around
the slayer?"
Uncomfortable with the subject Spike turned away, "You think there might be
more around?" he asked, looking into the darkness that for his preternatural
eyes was just a little darker than dawn.
"Still not enough fighting for you?" she joked behind him. "Well, teeth-boy,
I suppose tomorrow night you get everything you're dreaming about."
He muttered something unintelligible under his breath, and then turned
around, "And what's the matter with you. A slayer turned evil? Not the
average kind either." He saw her flinch at his words and almost felt bad for
her. Almost. "You've still got your soul and stuff, so what's your excuse."
"None of your business," she snapped, thrusting the stake under her
waistband. Suddenly she smirked, "Didn't think you liked being around your
grand-daddy. I mean, I've only heard about you two sharing a woman, but,"
she let her eyes roam over his figure, "comparing the two of you it isn't
hard to guess who won."
"Fuck you," Spike snarled, spinning away from her, and began to walk.
"Oh," she grinned, following him, "I've hit a nerve, haven't I. Poor Blondie
has lost a girl to Angel. Maybe it wasn't just one," she guessed and he
actually flinched. The same moment it hit her, "Oh holy shit, you have the
hots for B." Her laugh was loud and incredulous. "There has to be something
about her that all the undead fall for her. Goodness gracious," she shook
her head. "So first you lose your vampire honey and now you've got to watch
Angel banging the new flame. What a pathetic life."
Spike stopped instantly, whirled around and got right into her face, "Oh,
and you are so much better, huh?" he growled. "Your so called friends got
you out of jail, and for what? To feed you to some loony vampire master that
sees himself as the new ruler."
It cut deep. His words sliced through her like a knife, but Faith struggled
not to let him see how much he hurt her. She knew exactly why Angel got her
out of jail for a few days, why Kate had brought her to Sunnydale. But it
hurt hearing someone saying it loud and in such a hurtful way. But she also
remembered Angel risking everything, even his relationship with Buffy, to
help her. And somehow that counted more.
So she managed to smile coolly at him, "At least I have friends, while you,"
she shrugged, "But then you're just an evil vampire. With a little chip in
his head of course." She reached out and patted his cheek with her hand in
mocked pity, "Poor vampy."
He growled again and narrowed his eyes. Damn, this girl was tough. She
wasn't like Buffy, or Red, or all the other human girls. She wouldn't back
down. She didn't break and start to cry in front of him. He knew he'd hurt
her, but she held her head high and didn't try to evade his eyes.
Involuntarily Spike felt himself admiring her. And by God, he thought, she
is beautiful with all that anger in her eyes, her hair flying in the nightly
breeze.
Plus he'd seen her power when she fought by his side. She was the same
deadly weapon as Buffy, but unlike the blond slayer, she'd tasted the dark
side, smelled the temptation of evil, felt the power of killing.
Spike felt his body respond, quickly, urgently, powerfully and before he
could think twice he surprised himself and her by pulling her roughly to him
and capturing her lips in a passionate kiss.
****
"Angel," Buffy breathed when he finally raised his head, they were staring
into each other's eyes. She felt her heart beat frantically in her chest,
forgotten were all the demons and the danger surrounding them. Forgotten
also the pain of hearing the very dark hours of their relationship.
"Buffy," he responded, not letting go of her, holding her, his hand
caressing her back, sending goose bumps allover her body. They were
mesmerized, caught in each other. There was nothing, but them, no vampires,
no prophecies, no Gate of Hell.
Drawing a shaky breath Angel closed his eyes for a moment, then exhaled the
unneeded air. "I want you," he admitted on a little, shaky laugh. "But this
isn't the time and place for it."
"I want you too," she replied.
"Buffy," he all but growled.
She suddenly giggled in his arms, "I always wanted to make love to you in a
graveyard."
"Oh God," he groaned.
"Oh, yes," she whispered, passion searing through her. "I want you, Angel,"
she repeated her words from just before. "Now."
"This is madness," he whispered, but already felt himself give in, her warm,
sensual body too tempting in his arms, he realized that he was already
pushing her into the direction of a crypt. "Buffy," he whispered her name
again. It sounded almost exotic in his passion colored, hoarse voice.
"Yes, madness," she agreed, "let us be crazy together," she whispered, before
words became unnecessary.
... to be continued
There exists a NC-17 version or that part. If you are of age and want it, just mail me! Connemara.Scarlets@t-online.de