[Right. I can do this. It's no big deal. No big deal! You're going to be with the man you love, the man you kept loving for over four years after he left. You're saying that's no big deal?]
Buffy stood before the mansion on Crawford Street and wondered what kept her from going inside. She yearned for Angel in a way she couldn't have imagined a week ago. She thought she'd buried all feeling for him, that he no longer had the power to touch her. But a few brief moments with him and she wondered how she could ever have endured being alive as she had all the years of his absence.
He'd come flying to her rescue while she was in the grip of a powerful delusion. She'd wished that this world be nothing more than a terrible nightmare from which she might awaken and he'd pulled her back into it—to be with him. He was the only one who could have convinced her to stay here.
She loved him; he loved her. Where was the problem?
Well, there was always the chance that the spell hadn't worked and therefore Angelus might return. Yeah, that was big obstacle number one right there. Then there was the matter of his making a place for himself here in Sunnydale. Spike had managed to wedge himself into the life of the Scoobies by force of habit. But Angel had been out of the loop for almost five years. This was going to be awkward, no doubt about it.
But it wasn't just that and she knew it. She'd come here to have sex with him; that was pretty much the long and short of it. What if he was disappointed in her? What if he no longer found her attractive? The abortive pouncing in the tunnel was convincing proof that he still wanted her but mindless lust and positive attraction were too different things.
Her mind drifted back to the binding spell. Tara had decided the simplest solution to the problem was to give their two souls into each other's keeping. It wasn't as if they were exchanging their life forces or anything; it simply bound them to each other.
Tara had warned them that, while this was a simple ritual, it was not a casual undertaking. People who made such a commitment weren't like marrying couple who could divorce if things went sour. They were eternally linked to each other. If Angel became a soulless being again through sorcerous interference, Buffy would be tied to him still. If she had to kill him, the psychic backlash would probably destroy her as well.
Buffy had thought there was something deeply romantic in the idea of having Angel's soul under her charge. But Angel had been horrified at the implications. He had refused to go through with it, fearing the loss of Buffy's life if anything should go wrong. Buffy had pointed out that as long as his soul could be lost, she would always be in danger. Angelus had a fixation about her that was no less than Spike's. He'd come for her no matter what.
With that argument, Angel had reluctantly allowed Tara to proceed. The blonde wicca's instructions that they strip had met with such shocked stares that she giggled until she turned red in the face. The explanation that it was only a joke had been a vast relief. Then she'd told them to hold hands and repeat the words she spoke.
Buffy hadn't understood the language. The Latin phrases rolling off Angel's tongue had a caressing, almost erotic, quality to them and she couldn't help blushing even though the words were probably innocent of any such meaning. But she had felt a distinct tingling all over her skin and featherweight brushing at the edges of her mind, almost as if something were trying to force its way into her. The sensation was gone before she could really lay hold of it.
Now she stood before Angel's mansion with a very different tingling running through her and a fluttery feeling in her stomach to match.
"Are you coming inside or do you intend to stand here all night?" The amused voice came from behind her and she whirled around in a combat stance. Damn, the demon venom must have affected her more than she thought if she missed Angel's presence behind her…that, or she was simply too absorbed in thoughts of the handsome vampire she loved.
He was handsome, too. He was wearing a beige shirt under his leather duster instead of his usual all-black attire. It hung loosely on his broad chest and barely hinted at the robust frame hidden under it. He was also carrying a bag of groceries in his right arm and grinned at her obvious surprise. He came up to her and encircled her with his other arm and they shared a brief but passionate kiss. When they parted, Angel gazed down at her and his expression was more serious. "Buffy, were you coming in—or did you change your mind?"
"No! Definitely not of the changing. See me, resolute Buffy. I-I was just thinking and considering and…thinking," she finished, smiling feebly. Searching for a way to change the subject, she asked, "What's in the bag?"
"Just a few things to eat. I thought you might get hungry. I also had to pick up some supplies from Willy's."
"That's good. I was too jumpy to eat earlier and I'm probably gonna get mucho hungry later. Got to keep my strength up." Realizing what the statement implied, she flushed and snatched the bag out of his arm to cover her slip. "Open the door and I'll carry this in."
"I've got a better idea." He shoved the door open and picked her up, groceries and all, and carried her over the threshold.
Buffy giggled, kicking her feet slightly. "Aren't you of the chivalry? That's so sweet. You are my big teddy bear vamp."
Angel growled at the description. "One thing I've never been is a 'teddy bear.' "
She smirked at his indignant expression. "Well, I'm planning on cuddling up with you later so don't knock it, fella." She searched his suddenly shadowed face. "Hey, Angel. Lighten up. This is supposed to be a happy occasion."
"That's what's worrying me. I couldn't bear it if…something went wrong." Both of them automatically recalled when Angelus made his reappearance in Sunnydale and the lengths Buffy had gone to stop him. Determined not to let those memories ruin the mood, she buried her face in the crook of his neck and sniffed hard, inhaling his unique scent. She placed a light kiss on his throat and felt him growl again, the primal sound vibrating against her lips.
"That's why I wanted to do this here. Plenty of chains to keep you tied down if Angelus comes back. But he won't. I have utter faith in Tara's witchy abilities." She spoke with absolute confidence and Angel marveled at the change in her. In the space of a single day, she seemed to have recovered all her spirits and force of will.
He could see there was shadows within her; time and circumstances had changed her from the innocent, sunny girl he'd first seen on the steps of Hemery. But they had only deepened and strengthened her character. She understood the world was no longer the simple black-and-white she'd believed in so blindly. The maturity of this woman made the teenage girl he'd once known seem a pale, vapid silly thing by comparison.
He set her down and placed the bag on a nearby table. "None of these things are immediately perishable except the blood but I'll let it sit awhile so it can warm up a bit." She turned from her and silently noted the changes in the mansion.
There were candles lit everywhere, though set well away from the thick curtains covering the windows. He'd obviously had a fair bit of cleaning done since she couldn't see a speck of dust anywhere. There were new sheets on the bed as well. [Satin, I think. Wow, that'll feel so good against the skin. Not as good as his skin, though.] She grinned at the stray thought, wondering if he could tell where her mind was going.
He detected the sudden spike in her arousal and his nostrils flared slightly. He used her absorption to stare unabashedly at her. Buffy was wearing an orange blouse that hugged her curves. She was a trifle smaller than he remembered; her hard life had taken its toll on her physically. But she was still Buffy. Nothing could change that or the way he felt about her.
Buffy could feel his stare caressing her back and decided she couldn't stand another minute apart. She walked towards him and ran her hands under the coat and up his shirt. "So."
"So," he responded. He drew her closer, inhaling her aroma. The scent of vanilla, so long absent from his unlife, filled his senses and it was all he could to keep from tearing her clothes off her body right then. He pressed her close and settled for a kiss instead.
The kiss was shy, almost tentative, at first. Just a brief brushing of the lips and he pulled back almost at once. Then he returned, cupping her head and tilting it slightly for a better angle. His tongue came out and flicked at her pouting lips, pushing down and causing them to part.
A delicious odor came from her mouth and he sucked it into his. He didn't breathe but, when he caught breath from her, it almost felt as if he did. A simple kiss from Buffy made him more alive than the most ardent embraces from Darla. Banishing his dead Sire from his mind, he sucked harder and this time her tongue came with it.
Angel brushed her tongue with his own and then flicked along the surface, following it back to her mouth. Buffy moaned into that cold cavern and pulled at his shoulders. She wanted to draw Angel into her and frustrated by all the clothing in the way. He seemed determined to take his time even though the spell needed the sex act. It was both the completion of the ritual and the test that it had actually worked.
She slid her hands under the duster again and this time yanked up the shirt so that her hot hands came in contact with his skin. Angel groaned softly as he experienced her on his bare flesh and he caught a touch of her impatience. He shrugged off his duster so that it fell in a pool of leather at his feet and gathered her tiny frame to his own.
Self-control was rapidly leaving them both as Buffy arched into his caress. He could feel her nipples, already taut with desire, rubbing against his chest, the accelerating pulse causing them to throb like twin hearts. [No bra. That's good. I'm not in the mood to fuss with straps tonight.]
She rubbed her thighs against him, sighing as she felt the straining erection trapped in his tight slacks. Maybe there were tight because of the erection. She grinned at the thought, then whined as his lips left her own.
His tongue traced a slow journey over her chin. He paused briefly at her throat and brushed his human teeth over the skin, causing the pulse to jump under the blunt edges. Unconsciously he pulled the scar that still lay there between his teeth and relished the tiny tremor rippling through her body.
[My mark from my teeth. She's mine. Does she remember that?] Suddenly Angel wanted her to scream, to be on fire for him. He yearned for Buffy to be his again. He wanted to stamp every part of her with his touch. He wanted to remove any trace in her mind of the men who had come after him.
Because part of him mourned the thought of the others that had followed. A major part of him hated Spike and what he'd done. The thought of his grandchilde made him growl and he sucked a pebbly nub harshly through her blouse into his mouth.
Buffy cried out and arched into him. The abrupt roughness of the gesture startled her but she was fiercely glad. He wasn't holding back any more. She wound her fingers in the soft strands of his hair and tugged him onto her. If he had needed to breathe, he would have been in trouble for her grip left him no space to draw back. Instead he sucked harder as he pulled almost to the point of pain.
The whimpering from above his head told him the other was going unsatisfied and he switched his attentions to the neglected nub. He sucked and then rubbed his cheek over the tiny target. Swirling his fingers outside the blouse, he teased her by flicking the nipple back and forth until her body was twisting, desperate for more pressure, more sensation—just more.
"Angel. I want to feel you. Please." Ah, a little begging—always nice. Finally, he took pity on her. He swept his hand under the material and caught the nipple between his fingers. Angel was immediately rewarded by her passionate moan as her hands found her way to his back and clutched at him.
He continued the manipulation of the tender flesh before she pulled out of his grasp. He growled in disappointment at the action; why the hell was she backing away? Then his eyes widened as she drew off her blouse.
The small perky breasts were covered in goose pimples from the slightly chill air of the mansion. Inwardly he cursed himself. He should have lit a fire. [Wait, I thought that's what we were doing?]
Buffy kicked off the flat shoes then let her hands drift down over her breasts and hover tantalizingly at the top of her pants. Two could play at teasing. She'd show him not to mess with a Slayer. She began swaying from side to side as she leisurely unzipped the pants, stepping out of them as they landed on the floor.
he growled again, reaching for her.
She let him catch her and then began unbuttoning his shirt, rubbing her tits on every bit of his chest as it was revealed. "Buffy," he groaned. "I can't wait much longer."
"Then get these pants off, mister," she retorted. Obeying her, he threw off the shirt and unzipped the slacks. He paused, ignoring her snort, as he danced around with the pants around his ankles while he belatedly removed his shoes.
He finally managed to discard the intrusive clothing and straightened up before her. Her eyes ran over the muscular body and she was so stunned she nearly forgot to breathe.
Those wide shoulders. The muscles that rippled casually under the skin whenever he moved. As her eyes drifted lower, they landed on the sign of his arousal and her breath left her with a whoosh. [How could I have fit that inside me? How could I have forgotten all this to be with Spike?] The fleeting thought of that pest was depressing along with the memories of the times she'd wasted with him. But she ruthlessly shoved them aside; she was with Angel now.
Here was the man of her dreams, the lover she never completely forgot no matter how many others came her way. No wonder Riley had despaired of capturing her heart. No wonder Spike never stood a chance. She ran to him again and pulled his face down towards hers.
He scooped up that deceptively diminutive body, molding it to his. His cool tongue darted between her lips as he reacquainted himself with her mouth. He teased her tongue, darting little licks behind her teeth and across the sensitive soft upper palate. The fingers of one hand swept lightly across her arm and down her back.
He loved her back. He loved the way it twitched under his fingers. It felt supple as if it had a life of its own. He knew the nerves in the human back were far and few between but he could have sworn that Buffy could feel him wherever he touched her there.
She returned his kiss with as much fervor as he showed her. Her tongue traced his lips and wrestled with his. She felt his growl before she heard it. The delightful animalistic sound vibrated against the tips of her breasts. Hard ridges were pressing against her forehead and she opened her eyes to meet Angel's yellowed gaze. "Sorry, Buffy," he whispered as he forced his face back to its human planes.
She scowled and grabbed his face between his hands. "Don't be. I know who you are."
He shook his head as he tried to explain, "No, I just lost control…"
She craned her head forward and nipped at his neck. She knew what this did to vampires. Spike had demonstrated it often enough. He hissed and it was almost as if a pulse jumped beneath her teeth. "Let go, Angel. I love all of you, demon and man. I'm making no distinctions here. It's you, whether it's your golden eyes or your brown ones, fangy or not. I know it's you. You don't have to hide from me."
That silken whisper was nearly his undoing. Buffy was no longer an innocent schoolgirl and she was determined to prove it. She pulled him towards the bed with a final fierce kiss and lay back on the sheets. She drew up her legs and grasped her knees. "See anything you like?" she murmured with a sensual stare.
He knelt before her, absolute rapt by the sight. In the light, every part of her seemed to shimmer and glow. "You're so gorgeous, my beloved," he whispered. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are now, all bathed in candlelight?"
Her eyes widened and she felt tears sting at them. Spike had never sounded like that, so revering and hungry at once. He'd made her feel used, soiled and dirty. You belong in the darkness with me. She steeled herself against the ugly recollection. Being here with Angel was a thousand times better.
She didn't trust herself to speak. She merely stretched out her hands towards him.
No vampire could resist that invitation and Angel was no exception. He lunged towards her and covered her tiny body with his own. He pushed her knees up towards her ears. He knew from experience that this would deepen the penetration and, sure enough…yes, her answering cry was more like a wail and she grabbed at his waist. "Again…oh, that was…do that again, Angel!"
"Like this?" [She likes that, does she?]
[Yes, she does. Would he like it if I…] She clenched her inner muscles tightly as he pulled out again and she heard him gasp. Buffy's heart sang with triumph at that abrupt inhalation. [Nice to know I can make a vampire do that.]
[WHAT?!?]
Buffy and Angel stared at each other in shock even as they unconsciously continued their movements. [Angel? I-is that you?]
[Yes, beloved. How?]
The thought occurred simultaneously to the both of them. The bond. It had to be. A myriad of emotions, too chaotic for actual thought, flew through them and finally settled on fear, confusion, wonder…and utter delight.
For she could feel his excitement, his desire and knew he felt hers, too. [Yes, just like that, Angel.]
[Again, Buffy? Why don't you…?]
[You like it when I…?]
[YESSSSS. Just that way…so good…so wet…you smell…]
[This is…Heaven.]
[Not yet.]
The sharp pleasure careened into his mind even before he heard her scream. His back awoke with delicious pain as she raked it with her nails and he felt her surprise as she sensed his enjoyment of the animal act.
[Mineminemineminemineminemine.] The thought was selfish but he couldn't help it. Angelus was claiming his mate again and he was helpless before his other half's possessive nature. Yet he felt no outrage from her; if anything there was triumph and an equally powerful demand.
[Mine, too. You, you're the one. The others…never touched…ooh, there again. More. MINE.] Her legs locked tightly around his back, her ankles crossing over each other. She was assuming a position he'd practiced with women in the East.
She glimpsed it in his mind, the memories of countless past sexual encounters. There was shame there, yes, that she should see such things. But she felt his undeniable satisfaction, too. She pushed her jealousy aside and plundered his mind ruthlessly, even as his body explored hers.
[Let me try…] Suiting the action to the thought, she flipped him over. All at once, Angel was on his back, staring up at her as she reared over him. She rested her hands on his shoulders, angled herself forward until her breasts hovered just inches above his waiting lips. She could feel the frustration building in his mind as he strained upwards towards those nipples.
[Want something, lover?]
[Don't toy with me, woman.] A mental growl rumbled through her mind and a silent giggle answered him by way of response. Then she gasped as he roughly drew her down. His lips grasped and pulled at those pink peaks and Buffy cried out as his fangs came into play. The needle-like points grazed her flesh but she wasn't afraid and he knew it.
He couldn't believe she found his demonic side appealing. But time with Spike had taught her a few things about her own nature. There was nothing wrong with a bit of roughness as long as both parties were in agreement. And she was in tune with Angel in a way she'd never have thought possible.
They rocked together, their motions becoming wilder and more ferocious with every passing moment. She was riding on a tidal wave of emotion as both Angel and Angelus surged through her mind. The demon was howling to take possession of her again, to brand her once more, and she was perfectly willing to let him.
Her heartbeat was deafening. Like thunder, he could hear it everywhere—beating in her chest, calling to him. The tide was coursing over her body, leaving her chest reddened, gleaming in the light as sweat trickled down her flesh. He could see the pulse throbbing in her neck as his eyes fastened onto that fair column.
There was a madwoman clawing at his chest; tiny scratches of blood were being left wherever she touched. Another plunge and they both cried out at once. [Oh, that's so good. Harder, baby, harder!]
And was that last thought hers or his? He didn't know nor care anymore. His mate was reaching out to him. Her zeal matched his and he abandoned all attempts to hold his more savage half at bay.
[Angel! Yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesdontstopmorethereharderplease] She felt Angelus' desire and without thinking swept her hair from the right side of her neck. There it was, his mark, slightly faded from the years, but laid upon her skin still. He buried his nose in her neck and licked at the ridged flesh.
[PLEASE!] The demand was clear and he hesitated no longer. As her excitement wound higher, he broke the skin and began to drink.
"AAAAAANNNNGELLLL!!!" To Buffy, the bite opened the floodgates. Her climax swept through her body and she screamed, bombarded with his bliss and her own: his pleasure and his demon's threatening to swamp what was left of her mind. There was his love for her, so clear and bright, she could feel it like the lost warmth of Heaven. There was the untamed demon exhilarated at meeting its match.
He shuddered at that heated pressure and came deep inside her, growling into her neck. And coupled with his joy was her passion; it flew across his mind like a white-hot flame. He didn't want to draw away; her heart was pounding, pumping the life-giving nectar across his tongue. He shivered again at that blissful taste. Shutting his eyes, he continued to drink.
She was as sweet as he remembered. He could have bitten her that night she turned seventeen, but he had kept his demonic urges firmly under control. Only her virgin blood had been spilt that night.
Then he remembered the night she'd offered herself to save his existence. He hadn't wanted to, but he'd been weakened by his illness and Angelus had awoken. No, he wouldn't make that excuse; that was the coward's way out. He'd wanted to taste her, all right—had wanted it for months. He simply hadn't been able to resist the temptation.
Now the offer was mutual: blood given and taken as an act of love. His demon cried out in savage glee as he took another long pull.
Her ecstasy swept across his mind again as he did so, mingling with his. There was joy there and the same willingness to give her life for his as she had early done so long ago. It was that last thought that decided him. He wouldn't kill her. She was too dear to him and he'd only just gotten her back. He wouldn't risk her life in this foolish way, not for a fuck! He groaned in his mind and pulled away from her throat, ignoring his demon's howl of protest.
But Buffy was no fool. She knew her limits. She'd been hurt too many times throughout her time as an active Slayer not to know the difference between a mild injury and a life-threatening one. She was in no danger from him. She reached out with her mind and her hands. Grabbing his shoulders, she pulled him back towards the fresh wound.
At the forceful gesture, he hardened within her at once and he felt her shock at the renewed stirring. [Yeah, baby. That's right. Forget about Spike. You're with Angelus now and I'm ready to go allll night.]
She smirked at that masculine boast and waggled her eyebrows. [Uh huh. Well, forget Darla. You're with a Slayer now and I'll fuck you into the ground.] Her brief laugh was cut short as he graced her with a ravenous bloody kiss. She swept her tongue across his fangs and licked the sharp points. [Thought you were going for the neck.]
[Thought I'd take a detour.] He nibbled at her lips, pricking them slightly and drawing in the trickle of liquid that appeared. [Mmmmmm. So good. Better than Darla.] Unbidden, the memory of his last sexual bout with his Sire rose in his mind and he felt the woman underneath him stiffen.
[Darla? You were with Darla?] Her jealous rage tore at him as she scrambled away from him. Her eyes narrowed, she delved into his mind. He flinched and tried to hide away his thoughts but the bond was too new for him to shield himself from her. His defenses were stripped bare as the events of the past two years played out before her.
His descent into the darkness as the bastards at Wolfram & Hart played with his mind. His wonder and suspicion at Darla's return as a human. Failing to save her as he was forced to watch her turned in front of him by Drusilla.
Buffy looked on, buffeted by a storm of emotions, as he tangled with human and demonic enemies alike battling Wolfram & Hart. His night of violent passion with Darla. Darla, nine months later, pregnant and furious at him for causing her condition. The baby.
She knew Angel's joy and love as he cradled the miraculous bundle of life he and his Sire had brought into the world. She smelled baby skin and saw Connor's lovely blue eyes, his darling chubby little hands and feet.
She saw Holtz and knew fear as he looked into those empty gray eyes stripped of everything except the cold desire for vengeance. She watched helplessly as the fiend carried the baby into the mouth of the Quortorth.
[Oh Angel. My god. I'm so sorry. I never knew.] She stretched out with her mind to comfort him. She tried to convey her compassion and sorrow for him with thought and touch as she wound her arms tightly around his body.
He'd almost forgotten about Connor in his heedless rush to help Buffy. That may have been part of the reason he'd stormed over to Sunnydale when Cordelia told him about her vision. The pain of his loss was still too raw and fresh. He had wanted to run away.
He had held himself in as he always did. Cordelia had forced him to talk about it but underneath the slight relief brought by the conversation was the impatience he always towards her for making him open up, for demanding that he share, for goodness sakes. Cordelia was a good woman but sometimes she was more like the annoying older sister he'd never had than a true friend.
But here was Buffy opening her heart and mind to him without reservation, in spite of what had happened with Darla. He crushed her in his arms and burst out weeping.
It poured out of him, his grief seemingly neverending. She closed her eyes and simply let it wash over her, making no attempt to stem the flow. Finally, the storm ended as his tears slowed to a trickle. His sobs ceased and the anguish was followed by the inevitable embarrassment for his unusual display. [Right. Men aren't supposed to cry, are they, Angel? I don't care. I certainly won't tell if you don't.] The soothing murmur of her reflection brushed against his tender psyche and his answering smile was full of gratitude.
Buffy nuzzled the short strands of his hair and planted a tender kiss on his brow. Neither of them was now in the mood for lovemaking. But this new closeness wasn't something they were willing to let go. They lay silently in each other's embrace until her stomach gave a little rumble. He looked up at her small giggle. "Sorry. Guess that's a real mood breaker, huh?"
"More so than visions of somebody else's ex?" he replied.
She grimaced at his wry comment. "I hope you're as forgiving when you go over my nasty one-on-ones with Spike. At least you got a baby out of you and Darla. All I got were ugly bumps and bruises and one seriously battered ego."
In Angel's eye crawled Buffy's horrid memories of screwing Spike in all the uncomfortable corners of Sunnydale. A vicious growl rumbled out of him and he knew that his ridges had reappeared. "That sick little bastard. I'll kill him when I find him."
Privately Buffy thought that some of Angel's anger was well deserved. But none of it was for her; she could tell even without the warmth and protective rage flowing from him. "Look, Angel. I agree that rolling around with Deadboy Jr. was really of the idiotic. We were two dumb blondes—what do you expect?" The feeble joke didn't lighten the scowl on his face and she dropped the attempt at humor.
"I was wrong to sleep with Spike. But it was my idea as much as his. There wasn't any forcing involved and he'll probably rub that in your face if you go after him."
"I don't care what he says or what excuses he tries to make. You were mine and he knew it. If he went after you, I'm betting a large part of it was scoring off me."
"Well, aren't you with the big ego? Don't you think most of it was because of me?" she retorted.
He made an effort to rein in his temper. She didn't know Spike like he did…though if their minds remained joined like this, she might find out a lot more about his grandchilde than she ever wanted to know. She picked up on an errant thought and blanched.
"He told me he got off on killing Slayers but I didn't know about that. He had sex with Drusilla with her body nearby?"
"Forget it, Buffy. He was young and it was his first big trophy kill. He was always trying to impress Drusilla back then. See, she's mad and her mind's always wandering. She chose Spike because she wanted a playmate not out of true love. She always preferred me to him and that drove him crazy. He killed Slayers as a way of proving himself better than me."
"So…you never killed a Slayer?"
He couldn't resist the complacent satisfaction following that question. "I always thought of myself as the best. There was no need to prove myself. Only people with tiny little egos need to do that—and they have to do it repeatedly. That's why Spike had to keep killing Slayers over and over and over again. It was the only way to show himself as the better man. That, and keep Drusilla interested in him."
"Huh. Didn't work in the long run, did it? Remember when he came back to Sunnydale all emotional and weepy? Willow told me later Drusilla had left him …for a Chaos demon."
Angel stared for a moment and then burst out laughing. Buffy was treated to the sight of said demon in his mind and she joined him in laughter. "Eeeeewwwww! That's a Chaos demon? I can't believe she dumped him for that!"
He chuckled again. "Yeah, they don't win any prizes in the demon world either, not with their tendency to drip slime everywhere they go. But what happened after that? Spike said he was going to go hunt down Drusilla, tie her up, torture her a little and win her back. How did that turn out?"
She got a thoughtful expression as she considered the last time she'd seen Drusilla. "Well, he came back to Sunnydale very conspicuous in his lack of Drusilla so I'm guessing the Spike-and-Loony reunion didn't go as planned. Then she showed up again and he tried to use her to show his love for me. He threatened to stake her."
"He threatened to stake his Sire? Always a sign of devotion in my book. Didn't think the boy had it in him." She shrugged it off even as warmth spread through her. Angel had staked Darla to protect her. Spike had never gone that far no matter how often he boasted of his devotion.
"He didn't do it, though. When I was totally unimpressed with his offer, he switched around and said he'd set her loose so she could chow down on me. He couldn't make up his mind what he wanted to do. No wonder he wound up getting dissed by three women that night."
Angel's eyebrows shot up. "Three women? There was someone else involved?"
"Yeah. He was banging hips with Harmony, a Cordelia knockoff-turned-vampire."
A picture of the blonde ditz popped into his mind and he chuckled again. "Oh yeah. I remember her from when she showed up in L.A. Honestly, I would never have pegged her as his type. Imagine Spike sleeping with a Cordelia-wannabe. The horror, the horror."
"It couldn't have helped his tiny little ego to have her leave him. You'd have thought it'd be the other way around." A brief replay of the scene was exchanged and Angel dissolved into helpless laughter again over Harmony's lame exit line and Buffy's decisive sock to the jaw.
"Three rejections in one night! Poor Spike; I'm surprised Harris let him live it down."
Buffy grinned again and then sighed happily as she stretched out beside her lover. "This is so nice. It's much better than I thought it would be."
"You were afraid?"
"N-no. Not afraid exactly. It's just…it's been so long and we've both been through so much. We've turned into different people. I wasn't sure we'd…click again." She glanced at his handsome face, his gaze turned intently on hers. "It's so good to be able to lie here and talk afterwards. I didn't think we'd ever be able to do this."
"Post-coital cuddling? Yeah, it's great, all right."
Buffy caught another flash and her eyes widened. "Wait, we did do this before?"
Uh oh. This was something he was even more eager to hide than the Darla debacle. "Buffy, please try to understand…"
"Understand what? You were human…and you gave it up? And you never told me—not even when we met last year! Angel, how could you do that without consulting me?"
Angel kept his eyes shut while he tried to marshal his thoughts. No good. It looked as if he and Buffy would never be able to lie to each other again. He opened his eyes to confront her angry stare. "Don't worry, Angel. I'm not going to go digging in your mind again. But I do want an explanation. Don't you think I deserve one?"
"You certainly do, Buffy. It-it's just we had this conversation before and you were upset then, too. I just hoped you'd never have to know about it." He drew in an unneeded breath and let her into his mind. She saw it all—his all-too-brief venture into the sunlight, the meeting in the downstairs part of his old office followed by the passionate lovemaking on the kitchen table.
[We made love on a table? Damn, I thought only people in soap operas did that.] She glanced downwards at Angel and saw the evidence of his arousal at the memory. She sent a mental glare his way. [Oh, you can just forget about that, mister. I want to know the rest of this story.]
And there it was: Angel leaving with Doyle to confront the same Mohra demon he'd considered vanquished. The pain from his injuries as the beast thoroughly beat him to a pulp and his decision to give up his humanity to protect her life.
That was her Angel, for sure. Always making the big sacrifices. He picked up on that and gently replied, "Buffy, I don't regret what I did. If I had to choose again whether to stay human or be a vampire to save you, there would be no hesitation. You're more important than any human existence I might have."
Tears stung her eyes again, as she was overcome with the love flowing from her sweetheart. "Angel, I understand. I just think it was a crummy thing to do without telling me first. And I'm not on board with the idea it was the right thing to do. We could have worked it out somehow. You don't have to be a superhero to save the world. Look at Xander and Giles. Look at Wesley, Mr. Screams-Like-A-Girl."
"Hey! Don't knock Wesley; he's changed a lot since you knew him." The defense of his former boss was automatic. The next moment recollection of Wesley's treachery came back to him and a heavy scowl settled over his face.
Buffy kissed his forehead. "Angel, Wesley did a truly heinous thing to you and I know you're hurting right now. But I got a feeling there's more to this story than a botched prophecy. As soon as you get back to L.A., you've got to go see him and hash this out." At his unyielding expression, she amended, "Would you like me to go with you? If we're going to be together, I'm going to be coming up to L.A. sooner or later. Might as well do it before things get any worse."
"I'll have to think about it, Buffy."
Sensing his reluctance to pursue the matter, she decided to drop it. At that moment, her stomach rumbled again, louder than before. She smiled at him. "And on that note, I'd say it's time to eat. What have you got in that bag?"
TBC