A/N: Hang on tight folks, and get ready, 'cause this is about to get heavy.

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CHAPTER 13: INTO THE FIRE

Still this pulsing night
A plague I call a heartbeat
Just be still with me
You wouldn't believe what I've been through
You've been so long
Well it's been so long

And I've been putting out the fire with gasoline
Putting out the fire
With gasoline

            ~Cat People, David Bowie
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Angel snapped to awareness, letting go of Faith as she fell away from him. The coppery taste of blood still filled his mouth, tingling as it raced through his veins, filling him with power, healing his wounds. He hadn't tasted blood that powerful and replenishing since—

Eyes wide, he leaped to his feet, his face stricken as he gazed at the fallen Slayer.

"Ponce," Spike muttered snidely.

Angel turned uncertain eyes on him, edging warily closer to Faith. "Spike? What am I… how did we…?"

Spike rolled his eyes. "Unless you brought your Ray-Ban's, I suggest we continue this conversation on the way to your house." He bent to pick Faith up from the ground, muttering. "Great… wake the berk, lose the girl. We'll be lucky if we don't roast alive."

"You going to help me or what?" he asked in annoyance, looking up at Angel.

As if coming to his senses, Angel nodded. "I can carry her."

"Bloody do it then," he snapped in exasperation.

Angel took Faith's weight from Spike and picked her up, holding her slight form easily in his arms. Dark eyes shifting, he regarded the younger vampire quizzically, uncertain of the reason for his continued presence. "Did you save us?"

"No. Slayer took out almost all the vamps on her own, she did. Wish I could've seen it. Sent the last three scrambling home like babies to their mother."

"But… that's impossible… how could she… how?"

"Thick as you ever were," Spike said disparagingly, not really surprised.

Angel stared at him in confusion.

"We'll have to run," Spike commented, looking at the sky.

"We?"

"Be buggered if I'm going to let you run off on your own! Slayer'd hunt me down and put an end to me if I didn't make sure you lived through this."

Angel cut him an odd look, then glanced up at the lightening sky and took off running.

*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *

Faith awoke in a bed that was not her own. Disoriented, she sat up quickly and felt pain slice through her right wrist as it tried to support her. She took her weight off her arm and lifted her hand, looking at the bandage on her wrist curiously.

It all came back in a rush: the tunnels, the vampires, Angel—

Angel!

She leaped from the bed and looked down to find herself still clothed in the jeans and tank top she'd worn down into the sewers.

How long had she been here? Where was she?

She looked around again, trying to calm her mind and focus. It seemed vaguely familiar. High ceilings, marble pillars, sparse furnishings, gray stone… had to be Angel's mansion.

That meant he was alive. He had to be…

She pushed past the thick red curtain that covered the doorway, and found herself in the main room of the mansion. Angel sat in his chair by the fireplace, glancing up as she emerged, then leaping to his feet.

"You're awake," he said, unnecessarily.

"Good work, Captain Obvious."

He smiled slightly, looking at her with a relief and joy that seemed unusual on his face. Then, his eyes seemed to darken and he looked away, almost guiltily.

"Are you…?"

"Oh, yeah," she answered quickly—the image of his deathly pale skin and dark eyes—flash of blood-soaked clothing—memory of his fangs in her flesh. "Five by five," she added, putting her hands on her hips and raising a shoulder as if to show how indifferent she was. "Are you?"

"What?" he blurted, not seeming to comprehend. Then, "Oh, yeah. I'm… yeah."

Silence grew long and thick between them. "Well," she said wryly with a roll of her eyes. "I'm glad this isn't awkward."

"I—I'm sorry," he began. He turned his head away, as if he were ashamed to look at her. "I haven't… I only took enough to—"

"Don't sweat it, Angel," she said easily. It had been a big deal for her, of course, but there was no way she was going to let him know that. Not when he was already beating himself up over it.

He glanced at her doubtfully and shook his head. "It should never have come to that."

"It's all good," she said with a shrug. Then she grinned, becoming more animated as she went on, "You should have seen the vampire ass I kicked while you were out!"

"I heard," he said with a grudging smile.

She thought about that for a moment, deducing fairly quickly where he'd heard that, realizing there were other things Spike could have told him that she wouldn't have been as comfortable with. Frowning, she glanced around. "Is he still here?"

"No. He took a blanket to get home. We… don't enjoy each other's company very much," he said sourly.

She raised her brows at that—then suddenly, she realized that meant it was daytime. Or it had been, anyway.

"Shit! How long have I been out?"

"All day and part of the night," he said apologetically. "I thought about taking you back to Beatrice's, but…" he trailed off.

She glanced at her wrist and nodded in understanding. "Not the easiest thing to explain, huh?"

He nodded, and she moved to his chair, sinking down in it and shaking her head.

"Damn… Ms. H is gonna kill me."

*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *

After Beatrice gave her the grilling of her life, Faith fell into bed and slept thirteen hours straight.

When she woke, she dressed and made her way downstairs to find Beatrice with the same cross expression on her face.

"Courtesy of Angel, I assume," she said dourly, handing Faith a small gift-wrapped package. She seemed even more annoyed, if that were possible.

Faith frowned and turned the package over in her hands, wondering what it was, not certain if she should open it in front of Ms. H or not. After a moment, her curiosity got the better of her and she tore the gold paper from it, pulling open the cardboard flaps of the box. Pushing aside the tissue paper within, she drew forth a small metal object.

Silver knot work weaved in and out without beginning or end around a rectangular, veined green stone. It was a pretty thing, though it didn't look very expensive. Nice, but not overdone. She flipped it over and on the back was a pin that identified the odd piece of jewelry as a brooch.

"Where did this come from?" Faith asked, looking at her inquisitively. It didn't seem like Angel to leave gifts, although if she had to guess, something like this would be his style.

"I found it on the front doorstep," her Watcher answered shortly. "I imagine it's his idea of a 'get well' present."

She glanced down, uncomfortable with the sarcastic reference to their conversation last night. She'd had to lie, of course. It was beginning to feel like second nature again. But if she hadn't lied, she risked putting Angel in danger. She could imagine what the Council would do if they had any idea that Angel had fed on her, or even that he'd gotten her into a position where he'd needed to. Defending Angel was starting to feel like a full-time job.

"Ms. H… I told, you. If it weren't for Angel, that vampire would have killed me."

"Yes, so you said," her Watcher agreed, sounding as if she didn't believe a word of it.

Faith dropped her eyes from Beatrice's angry face, looking down at the brooch in her hands. She felt unusually weak this morning, and whether that was due to the blood she'd lost or emotional strain she'd been through, she wasn't certain. She knew that either way, she didn't much like it. She felt off-balance, vulnerable somehow, and she didn't have the strength to go on arguing again as they had last night. She stood in silence, and after a moment, she placed the brooch back in the box and turned to get herself some breakfast.

Beatrice shook her head, softening her tone. "Faith… I know there's more going on here than what you're telling me."

Faith laid her hands on the counter and sighed.

"Need I remind you that you are on probation here? It is of the essence that you share as much information as possible. If you don't start being more forthcoming with the details of your patrol I'm going to be forced to report your insubordinate behavior to the Council."

"Oh, you're going to tell on me?" Faith asked snidely, feeling her anger well up again.

"They're already questioning me heavily about everything you do, Faith. It wouldn't take much for them to discover your association with Angel, and less for them to figure out that there's something more than simple book theft going on in this town. If they find out you're keeping things from them… I don't know what they might do."

She turned, looking squarely at her Watcher. "Are you threatening me?"

"Not at all. I'm simply doing my job. In fact, at this point, I'm doing less than my job. Faith," she went on, her reasonable tone taking on a sympathetic note. "I haven't been reporting everything to the Council because I've been trying to give you time to adjust. I feel that you and I have developed something of a relationship, and I know that it will take time for us to build the type of relationship we should have. The Council, however, won't understand that at all. They expect you to salivate when the bell rings."

"Like the lap-dog I am," Faith added with rancor.

"Oh come now," Beatrice said reproachfully. "Has it really been so bad? I've been a bit hard on you, but you've scarcely had a direct order at all."

"Yeah. It must really be killing you not to order me around like a drill sergeant."

"It's true that my methods are a bit 'hard-assed', as you Americans put it, but I realized quickly after meeting you, Faith, that the normal procedure of giving orders to be carried out without question was not going to work. I know you were forced into this position and that you had no training prior to being called as the Slayer. I also know that you lost your way due to the resulting lack of discipline. I've been trying to instill in you slowly the importance of self-discipline and procedure, without forcing you or commanding you." She shook her head again, looking away. "But if whatever is going on in this town comes to head before we let the Council know that something is coming… they're going to think that neither of us is doing their job."

"So you're worried about saving your own ass," Faith concluded, gloating. "I knew it."

"There's more at stake here than your future, Faith. Or even mine. There's the future of the world, itself." She paused, focusing intently on Faith. "Right now, both of us have an opportunity to influence that future. We're not the only two, of course, but we are two of the most important. How we handle our responsibility to the world may at some point determine whether or not the world survives."

Faith's eyes flickered back and forth uncertainly, the fire of her anger dying down to embers.

"The Watcher's Council, methods aside, has a knowledge base more comprehensive than any, and often, it's that knowledge and resource that helps save the world. There's a reason it's always been Slayer and Watcher, Faith; one who contains the knowledge and maintains the pathway to it, and one who uses that knowledge to fight the forces of evil."

Her expression troubled, Faith looked away, saying nothing.

"Think about it," Beatrice said, rising briskly from her chair. "Perhaps after your patrol tonight you'll have a bit more information about these thefts and we can discuss it then."

She walked out of the kitchen, leaving Faith to wrestle with her conscience.

*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *

"We need to talk," Faith said earnestly as she entered the mansion.

Angel glanced up from the book he'd been reading, then did a double-take, rising abruptly to his feet, book tumbling from his lap. "What… what is it? Are you okay?"

"Fine, fine," she waved off his concern, barely noticing his reaction as she turned and ran a hand through her hair. "Ms. H and I had a talk today," she went on quickly before she could lose her nerve. Shaking her head, she uttered a cynical laugh. "I'm sure she was using some kind of psych crap on me, but—" She broke off, suddenly noticing the way he was staring at her.

"What?" she asked edgily, suddenly uncomfortable under the scrutiny of his gaze.

As if startled from a trance, he blinked, glanced away, shook his head. "N-Nothing."

She frowned, looking at him a moment longer, then shrugged it off. "Anyway… I wanted to know what you thought about letting her in on what we know."

Now it was his turn to frown. "That means letting the Council in on what we know." He wasn't very fond of that idea, as his tone suggested. He didn't want to trust them with what was going on until… he blinked and his thoughts scattered. Frowning more deeply, he tried to remember what he'd been thinking about, and then forgot that he'd been thinking at all. His eyes wandered back to her face.

"Well, maybe we don't tell her everything, but—is there something on my face?" she asked abruptly, reaching up to touch her cheeks.

"No," he said, still staring at her.

"Look, I'll pose for pictures later, okay?" she said in annoyance. Looking away from him, she shrugged from her jacket, glad for the excuse to break from the intensity of his gaze. She took a moment to compose herself, hanging the jacket on the back of a chair, then looked back to him. "So, if we can focus on something besides my face for a second here—"

He walked forward, his eyes fixed on the brooch on her breast.

"Okay, well that's a change of focus," she admitted, muttering.

Self-consciously, she reached up with one hand to touch the smooth stone. "It's… pretty. Thanks for leaving it," she added casually, shrugging and tossing her hair back from her face.

"I didn't leave it," he said, shaking his head and raising his eyes to meet hers.

"What?" she asked, surprised. Startled as she was by his denial, and as many alarm bells as that set off, she was distracted by the way he was looking at her, and she lost track of what she'd been thinking. She had been going to ask him something else... but his eyes… something in his eyes… a light she'd never seen there before. The way he was looking at her…

"I didn't leave it," he said again, stepping closer to her. He tilted his head to the side, seemingly entranced. "Are you doing something different with your hair?"

She blinked, her stasis broken by the odd question, and uttered an uncertain laugh. "You're acting weird."

"Is it so weird?" He looked at her intently, his voice becoming serious, almost hesitant.

"You noticing anything about me as if I were an attractive female?" she asked with a short, bitter laugh. "Yeah. I'd file that one under 'Mysterious Sunnydale Weirdness'."

He reached out with one hand and touched the brooch, his fingers brushing over hers, and in that instant her fingertips seemed to tingle with energy. For a second, she thought she could hear it crackle in the air between them.

He stepped even nearer to her and she retreated a step backward. "What—what are you doing?" she asked, and the question came out far less sharply than she intended it to. She felt mesmerized, nearly paralyzed, as if she were drowning slowly and finding it… somehow pleasant. The moment felt inescapable, inevitable, like murky darkness surrounding her with warmth, closing in and covering her completely, wrapping her tight in its lethargic embrace, pulling her under, taking her breath away.

He moved his face closer to hers. "Playing coy doesn't become either one of us, Faith," he said, his voice low, almost purring. "We're both creatures of animal instinct and passion, no matter how much we try to hide it. I know you want me—and I want you. Let's stop playing this stupid game of pretending we don't know that."

How long had she waited to hear him say something like that? And though his words sent a shiver of excitement through her, they rang untrue in her head. "What?" she blurted, certain she had heard him wrong. Startled, needing a little distance to think, she backed up another step, feeling the wall behind her, and he closed in on her.

"You heard me," he said, his voice a heated whisper, his lips so close to hers that she could feel the vibration of the words as he spoke them, so close that she couldn't think.

She gazed up at him, caught by his eyes, those deep, mysterious eyes, so warm now, filled with fire as he looked back at her, intently, without fear. For a moment, she was so caught, so overwhelmed that she forgot to breathe, her head tilting up and back, eyes fluttering closed, the warmth of his lips just within reach...

He leaned to meet her and reality crashed down around her again. Planting both hands firmly against his shoulders she shoved him away roughly, pushing herself away from the wall.

"What the hell are you doing?" she demanded, her voice ragged with anger, rage, passion, and barely restrained desire. God, she was so weak...it was all happening so fast! Confused, she put her hands to her head and spun away from him, trying to clear her mind. Her desire was so heavy, thick and cloying, like smoke coiling around her mind, permeating her senses. She tried to find the thread of her thought, lost it again, then grabbed hold. Right. Angel was going crazy. This could not be happening.

Wait—was she going crazy, too? Why the hell was she fighting this?

She had barely turned away when she felt his hands on her shoulders again, turning her back to face him. "What you've always wanted me to do," he answered, reaching up to touch her face, fingers tracing down the line of her jaw, thumb caressing her cheek. "Don't deny it, Faith. I know you feel the attraction between us... you always have. What? You thought I didn't know?" he asked with a small smile when she glanced up at him fearfully. "You think I didn't feel it, too?"

She pulled back from him, turning her face from his caress, unable to meet his eyes. "I—I thought you said it was 'just business'," she said, her voice faltering, her mind grasping desperately for solid ground.

"Not anymore," he said, shaking his head. "We both almost died yesterday… you saved my life, and I… I was so afraid. When I thought you might die, I couldn't bear it," he said urgently, leaning nearer to her, his eyes never leaving her face.

She stepped backward, feeling her shoulders meet hard stone, halting her retreat. Something wasn't right here... Angel, coming on to her? To her? She couldn't believe it—it went against all the laws of God, nature and man—and yet, she wanted to believe it. She wanted to believe it with every shattered dream and broken piece of her heart. She felt sick, feverish, anxious, and she knew she wasn't going to be able to be strong enough for both of them. God, she had to get out of here.

She tried ducking under his arms as he brought them up on either side of her, but he was too fast.

Pinned, she lifted her eyes to his, dark depths pleading with him to release her... She'd always wanted him; he was right about that... but she couldn't bear this. What she felt for him went beyond simple physical desire, and if she hadn't known that before they'd gone down into the tunnels, she certainly knew it now. Once she might have viewed this moment as simple fun, pure pleasure, a chance for a casual fuck… now it felt dangerous. It was too intimate, too imminent, too real. Something about him reached deep inside her, touched the core of her soul, and drew feelings from her that she'd never imagined or wanted. When he'd pretended disinterest, denial had been easy... but now...

"Please," she whispered, and suddenly she was no longer sure what she was begging of him.

His mouth closed over hers and what little resolve she still held melted away, draining from her. In an instant, every thought, every misgiving was replaced with a desire so overwhelming and beyond her control that all rational thought ceased.

She kissed him back fervently, her arms coming up to wrap around his shoulders in a passionate embrace, surrendering herself completely to the moment. She felt him grab her upper arms, pulling her up to him, crushing her against him as they kissed; mouths hot and sweet as they explored each other, tongues dancing and twining like lovers.

At last he broke the kiss, and she felt the wall press against her back as he buried his face in the curve of her neck, lips trailing heated kisses down the gently pulsing soft flesh, teasing her with sharp nips of his teeth as he went. She shuddered and moaned, pressing against him, and for a moment, rational thought returned with the thrilling knowledge that she was incredibly vulnerable right now, his vampire teeth so close to the font of her lifeblood. It felt dangerous, intoxicating, forbidden. She wondered for an instant if he felt the temptation, and then she felt his teeth nip gently at the hollow of her throat.

Angel savored every taste of her sweet skin, feeling the pulse of her heart in the hollow of her throat, the smell of her blood so rich, so recent and remembered, so tantalizing, so inviting and near, here where the skin was thinnest. With an effort he resisted the urge to move his mouth back up over her jugular; to let his teeth lengthen and sink into her, to draw pleasure from the very center of her being as he drank from her. He turned the smooth skin of his cheek against her, feeling her heartbeat pulse against him, quickened with desire, and then he slid his face up her neck, nudging his chin against her jaw before moving to claim her mouth again.

She threw back her head, pulling him down to her almost desperately, devouring every taste of his lips, arching her back, molding her body against his, completely lost to her passion. There were no questions now, no misgivings, no inhibitions. The moment was completely as she'd always imagined it, hot and passionate, rough and gentle, tender and yet violent with need.

One of his arms clamped around her waist, crushing her tighter against him as he kissed her, his other hand plunging deep into her thick mane of dark hair. She ran her hands up his back, nails raking lightly, and then slid her hands through his hair, cupping his head on either side as she drew him even closer to her. He withdrew his hand from her hair, caressing the side of her face, fingers trailing delicately down her neck, lightly over her collarbone, coming to rest over her left breast. He cupped it through her shirt, squeezing it lightly, and she gasped as his fingers caught her nipple through the thin material, pinching it gently.

She broke the kiss and drew back, looking at him, putting her hands on his face. Her blood was on fire with wanting him, and yet the tantalizing sensation of his hands on her body brought reality to intrude for a brief moment. God. This was real. All of it. Were they really going to do this?

"I want you, Faith," he whispered raggedly, desperately. "I need you. I think I…" He hesitated, but he never took his eyes from her, and she watched as the realization of what he was about to say dawned on him.

"I… love you."

Dark brown eyes wide, she stared at him in shock, her heartbeat seeming to falter in her chest. "Don't." She could barely form the word with her numb lips, as if she had forgotten how to speak. Her mind spun dizzyingly, and the passion of a moment ago gave way to something far more consuming, far more real and terrifying.

She twisted and began to struggle against him, feeling only the need to flee now. This was too much. It couldn't be happening like this. It just couldn't. Angel couldn't love her... how could he? She was—

Ignoring her struggles, he took her hand in his, pressing his lips to the healing pink scar on her wrist. "I can't help it," he said quietly. "Any more than you can help loving me."

She stopped struggling and stared up at him in wonder, fear and amazement mingling in her expression.

"I know you do," he went on softly. "I can feel it. Here…"

He pressed her hand against her heart, and she felt her fingers touch the smooth surface of the stone on her breast, felt his fingers atop hers, felt her heartbeat pounding against them, and suddenly, another burst of desire overcame her.

She reached out and pulled him to her, kissing him fiercely with desire and emotion. The tide broke within her, opening every locked door in her mind, and every emotion she'd ever held back, every wish she'd never dared hope for, spilled out in a violent, demanding tumble.

They made love eagerly, tender and rough, bitter and sweet, taking and giving, again and again, cresting pleasure and whispering devotion until at last they collapsed in each others arms, falling fast asleep.

*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *

Faith woke with a startled gasp, sitting bolt upright.

God, what a bizarre dream, she thought, reaching up to rub at her temples. That thought was immediately followed by more vivid than usual, then, damn it's dark in here, and then she glanced around and stopped thinking all together.

She sat naked amidst the clothing strewn all over the floor of Angel's mansion. The intimacy, the emotion, the desire of last night all came rushing back, parading through her head in a flood of images the color of flesh. Not able to believe it, she turned as if in slow motion, moving through molasses in her horror, and looked down to see Angel lying naked at her side, his muscular body growing restless without her warmth against it.

She snatched her shirt from the floor, pulling it over her head and shrugging into it, and as she did, she felt something hit her leg and then clink as it struck the floor, skittering away. She looked down and saw the brooch she'd been wearing—the one she'd thought Angel had sent her. Only now it seemed to have aged about a thousand years, its silver knot work turned almost black with tarnish, green stone darkened to a dull, brownish hue. Fascinated, she picked it up between her fingers and held it up to the light.

There was a momentary glow, a tingle of energy through her fingertips, and then the brownish stone lost what little vitality it might have retained, blackening and crumbling to dust. A moment later, its silver setting followed suit.

She heard a rustling movement beside her, and knew Angel was awake.

Oh, fuck.