Title: Drip, Drip, Drip pt. C
Author: Goldy
Email: thegoldoneb_a@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: Joss. All Joss. Not me.
Dedication: Liss. For the wonderful beta. *Smooch* thanks a lot, honey!
A/N: Angst warning. I'm addicted to the stuff, I think.
Rating: PG
Feedback: Yes! Please! I'm addicted to feedback, too!
When the knock, almost a calm serene one, sounded on her door, Lilah bolted upright on the couch. She slopped some wine over her glass in haste, mentally cursing herself. Smoothing her skirt down, she composed herself as best as she possibly could.
Voice strong, audibly at ease, Lilah said, "No way I'm saying those two little words you want to hear so badly."
She closed her eyes, hearing the door bang and fall in. She opened her eyes slowly, not scared enough to miss the way Angel looked. Sort of like he'd lost his lover. Sort of like he'd forgotten personal hygiene, food, and anything else that always made him seem like the hero in a dark cape.
It made her smile.
It made her feel powerful.
Angel hurt. Angel needed *her*. He needed Lilah to tell him how to save the slayer. And that put Lilah in control of the situation.
Lilah relaxed.
He stared at her. "I'll kill you," he spat evenly.
She tapped a nail against her palm, lifted her glass, and smiled pleasantly. "Oh?"
"Bitch," he snapped, and threw himself at her door… only to be propelled back into the hallway.
"Having some trouble there, Angel?" she asked.
He stood up, looking to Lilah like an arthritic old man. He held out his hands peacefully "I just came to talk."
She laughed. The sound seemed musical to her ears. It helped remind her who had the power. Lilah had the power. She *always* had the power. "So talk."
"I'll hunt you down," he talked, anger gone from his face, but the words sounding deadly. "I'll watch you when you go to work, be there when you step into your car, be around the corner when you step outside your apartment. I'll follow you." He looked her straight in the eyes, not blinking, not flinching away from the gaze. "If anything happens to her, you'll pay for it. Believe me, Lilah, if anything happens to her, you'll live the rest of your life in pain and fear."
She believed him. Really believed him. But she wasn't going to let him know that. Wasn't going to show him that she was even the slightest bit ruffled. "And what will that make you?"
He shrugged, "A man who has lost his love for the second time in a year."
She licked her lips. "I hate you."
"Feeling's more than mutual."
She slammed her wine glass down on the coffee table. "It wasn't even my fucking idea to go after your lady love, " she snapped, glaring at him, "She's the only one that can give you perfect happiness, after all."
Angel sighed. "Now, Lilah, that was a cheap blow, we both know it. Give it a break and tell me how I can get Buffy back in one piece."
Lilah pouted, looked away from the doorway. "It's a simple confusion spell that was put on her."
Angel watched her suspiciously. "Doesn't sound too bad."
Lilah laughed, this time not from her position of power, but in a mocking tone. "Not too bad? Oh, Angel," she snorted, "you of all people should know. A girl like this? The slayer, with all she's been through. You think it's just a simple confusion spell when put on someone who's been to heaven?"
Angel's jaw clenched. "What's the counter?" he growled, a warning in his voice.
Lilah got up, found a piece of paper, scribbled something on it. "His name's Demora," she thought a moment, "course, it's not his real name, but works well enough, doesn't it? Simple spellcaster, likes to think of himself as a big hot-shot wizard." Lilah smiled, "He was the one who put the whammy on Bunny—"
"Buffy," Angel interrupted, letting his game face show.
Lilah rolled her eyes, "*Buffy*. Anyway, here's the address. I don't care what you do to him, but he's the one with the counter spell."
Walking deliberately towards him, Lilah dropped the paper on the ground and carefully slid it towards him with the tip of her boot. Angel's reflexes were lightening fast, he grabbed her foot as soon as it was over her threshold. Lilah found herself pinned against the hall wall, one of Angel's arms putting pressure against her back, and the other holding the address.
He leaned close to whisper in her ear. "I don't like it when people play with me, Lilah."
She closed her eyes, exhaled, "You wouldn't do anything."
He shoved her harder against the wall, heard her whimper. "I wouldn't?"
"I won't go after her again," she found herself promising.
"I'll kill you if you do," he said.
And then he was gone.
Lilah slid down the wall, leaning against it and breathing hard. A cry tore its way out of her throat. It was followed by another. And another. And another. Soon she was sobbing.
From fear or relief, Lilah wasn't sure.
***
The scream was so sudden that it seemed to pierce the night air like a knife cutting into a soft loaf of bread. Fred gave a little jump before grabbing Gunn's arm and gesturing wildly.
"Did that sound like…" Gunn trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence.
Fred could do nothing but nod. "It came from around the corner," she whispered, accepting the stake that Gunn gave her. As silently as possible they ran the distance down the block and around the corner.
The vision that greeted Fred made her halt suddenly, causing Gunn to barrel into her. It was Buffy they found, and she was being attacked by a vampire. Just the vampire, fangs inches away from her neck, seemed almost frozen—as if he was about to bite down, but decided at the last minute to pose for a painting. "What's going on?" Gunn muttered, staring at the display with wide eyes.
"Shhhh!" she hissed already going over the scene. The vampire was shocked, staring at the slayer's neck with something akin to horror. It only took Fred another couple minutes to figure it out. "Her scar!" Fred said, forgetting that they were supposed to be quiet, "The vampire bite on her neck… Angel gave her that."
"Marked her," Gunn added beginning to catch on.
The vampire looked up, stared right at them with its yellow
eyes. Fred gave a little squeal having forgotten that the vampire could hear
them. "Angelus…" it whispered in fear, staring back at Buffy. "This is his
town…"
Gunn stepped forward, stake in hand. "Drop the girl," he commanded, puffing out his chest, "and I'll let you live." Wesley once posed as Angel, why couldn't he?
The vampire sniffed the air. "You're not him," he declared, fear gone from its features.
Gunn winced… that was why. "No, but you're touching his woman," smiling now, Gunn approached the vampire with a threatening stance. "You can almost feel his fury in the air. Angelus is out for revenge. I almost pity the poor demon he lays it on."
Unsure now, the vampire backed away a few steps. He looked around as if Angel might appear any moment and slit his neck. "I'm hungry," he whined, looking at Fred.
"Find a meal somewhere else," Gunn commanded, following the vampire's gaze.
"What about her?" the vampire asked gesturing to the brunette, "Does she have Angelus' mark?"
It all happened so fast that Fred didn't quite know how she got the first couple of bruises. The vampire with the Metallica shirt dropped Buffy on the ground with a dull thud and was clutching Fred by the hair no more than five seconds later.
Fred screeched and gave a few futile struggles. Gunn was angry now, clutching his stake so tightly that his hand was beginning to become cold from the lack of blood. "You shouldn't have done that," he threatened.
"Buffy!" Fred cried, "Buffy, help!"
The slayer just moaned, rolling around on the ground a little, clutching her head. Fred realized with a sinking feeling that the slayer was going to be of no help at all. Whatever she was going to do she had to do it herself… and soon. She could smell the vampire, dried blood, mucus, alcohol—it was no wonder that Buffy had passed out.
She could see Gunn coming towards her out of the corner of her eye and she could feel the vampire's fangs against her neck. In one quick motion she brought her hand up and with a little cry drove it right into the vampire's crotch.
The vampire shrieked and let go of her. She stumbled trying to catch her breath. "You little bitch!" he snapped, holding onto himself and wheezing.
Gunn barreled into him from behind. The vampire flopped around on the ground for a moment before Fred remembered the stake Gunn had handed to her before. Picking it up from where she had dropped it when the vampire had seized her, she brought it down into the vampire's unbeating heart in one quick motion.
Stepping back as the vampire exploded into dust, she took a deep, shuddering breath. "You okay?" she asked Gunn who was staring at her with wide eyes.
"Wow," he managed to say.
She smiled shyly. "Buffy isn't the only one who can handle herself in violent situations."
He winked. "I noticed."
Remembering the slayer, Fred walked over to where Buffy was lying on the ground. She was awake now, staring up at them with big, wide eyes. She tried to speak, but the words got stuck in her throat.
When she looked at Fred her eyes were pleading, confused, and so lost. It broke Fred's heart. "She doesn't recognize me," she murmured sadly.
Gunn reached out and squeezed her hand comfortingly. "We found her."
"She looks so lost…" Fred shook her head. "Buffy can you hear me? Buffy?" her voice cracked slightly, "It's going to be all right. Angel's going to help you…"
Fred thought she saw a flicker… of something in the blonde's eyes. A small light of recognition. "Angel?" she managed to whisper.
Fred nodded. "He's going to help you."
She shook her head. "Can't. So lost. Don't know where I am… don't know where I want to be…" a light dawned in her eyes. "Home? Where's home?"
Fred looked at Gunn helplessly. He shrugged, feeling uncomfortable. Bending down, he lifted her up and threw her gently over his shoulder. "She's not too heavy," he mouthed to Fred, "and we're close to the Hyperion."
Fred tried to smile. Clasping Buffy's hand she tried her best to smile. "We'll take you home, Buffy. Don't worry."
***
"Goo! Goo! I HATE GOO!" Cordelia shrieked running a hand through her short brown hair which was filled with green mucus.
Wesley, equally covered in slime, made a face. "May I remind you that *you* were the one who got the vision and *you* were the one who insisted on coming out to kill it!"
0
"Yeah, well," Cordy retorted trying her best to mimic Wesley's accent, "you were the one who did the research! And *you* were the one who forgot to read about the part where the creature blows its NOSE whenever it feels like it's in DANGER!"
"That's not his nose!" Wesley snapped.
"If it wasn't his nose then what the hell spewed this yucky green liquid all over us?" Cordelia shrieked.
Wesley blanched. "That's a private question."
Cordelia's eyes went wide and she glance at the demons long *thing* that just happened to be coming right out of the middle of its ugly face. "Oh, ewww," she muttered. Then, looking down at herself she made another face. "Ewww, ewww, ewww…"
"It's actually surprisingly clean for such a big—"
"I don't want to hear it! Don't want to hear it!" Cordelia hissed covering her ears with her hands. "I'm going to be sick," she moaned.
Wesley's phone rang. Frowning, he answered it, "Mmm… Angel? Pardon?" Wesley thought a moment, "Demora? No… I've never heard the name before," the ex-watcher listened for a moment. "You're just going to rush in there… no, I haven't heard anything from Gunn or Fred… fine, rush in there." Wes sighed, "We'll be there in a moment. Be careful." Wesley looked back at Cordelia who still had her hands over her ears. He cleared his throat. "Uh, Cordy…"
"Don't want to HEAR IT! Don't. Want. To. Hear. It!" Wesley grabbed her arm. She shrieked and glared at him. "What?" she asked testily.
"That was Angel… he's found a lead."
***
Angel wasn't surprised to find that the address that Lilah had given him led to an upper class neighborhood. Was even less surprised to find the house was three stories high with a pool in the backyard.
Angel was willing to bet that this "Demora" hadn't bought the house in the literal sense of the word.
The vampire let out an involuntary growl. He wanted to lay his hands on this spellcaster's neck, wring it until it popped, then cut open his heart and… he shook his head. No, he couldn't let his baser instincts take over. He couldn't kill the man. He needed him to reverse the spell on Buffy.
'If it isn't too late already!' his mind screamed. 'Might as well just torture the man…'
Angel walked somewhat unsteadily up to the door. Didn't bother to ring the doorbell, just broke the lock and walked in. He knew his instincts had been right. Demora obviously didn't own the house. Angel could feel him, feel the dark power the house radiated, and knew that it was a very real human being casting this spell.
He walked up the stairs letting his senses guide him. Didn't bother to rush, knew that wouldn't help anything and also knew the spellcaster could feel his presence already.
Angel was right. Demora was waiting at the top of the stairs for him, a look of utter peace and calm on his face.
Angel sucked in his breath when he got a good look at his foe. Chiseled face, strong arms, thin, narrow chest… Angel recognized him at once.
"You shouldn't have come here," Angel warned in a low voice.
"I know," a clipped British voice answered, "it's just… Buffy's so appealing when she's in pain."
"Reverse the spell."
Sitting down on the floor, he crossed his legs, pushed his hands together and shut his eyes. "Uh… no," he replied, not opening his eyes. Angel growled and rushed towards him. "I wouldn't do that. One false move and I'll stop her heart from beating. She wants to die, did you know that? I could make that happen… make all her dreams come true…"
"What do you want, money? Protection from some trouble you got yourself in?"
Ethan Rayne opened his eyes. "No, I just want confusion. Mayhem, panic… loneliness, despair." He grinned, "Besides, it's really all just payback for putting me in that god forsaken jail out in the middle of nowhere for two YEARS!"
Angel advanced on him. Ethan opened his eyes, murmured something in Latin, and Angel was hurled backwards down the stairs. He banged into a wall, needing a few moments to see straight again.
"I said," Rayne warned with venom in his voice, "not to do that!"
"I know someone," Angel mused, standing up painfully, "who grew addicted to magic. Nearly cost her life."
Ethan wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. "Oh, now, isn't that just the saddest thing I've ever heard." He sneered, "I don't care. Go. Away."
Angel began walking up the stairs again. "Take the spell off her."
The man sighed. "Didn't we cover this? I believe my answer was along the lines of…. No. Absolutely not," he smiled. "Have a good day."
Angel growled letting his demon face break free. "You drive a tough bargain."
"You know," Ethan began tapping a finger thoughtfully against his chin, "they teach you a few things in military jail. Like 'enclose' for example." A shield that Angel ran into propelled him down the stairs for the second time. "Oh, dear," Ethan murmured, "I seem to have activated some kind of… barrier around myself." He sneered, "Now go away."
Angel considered him for a moment before turning and leaving the house. He was so angry, he could barely concentrate. Snarling, he ripped out his cell phone… and accidentally crushed it to little pieces. Letting out a howl of half frustration and half anger, Angel sprinted down the street to the nearest convenience store. Aware of the precious time that was slipping by, Angel took a few seconds to calm down before calling Wesley in the phone booth. He let out another annoyed hiss when he saw the price of making a call had gone up yet again.
Angel could almost hear the clock ticking as he searched his pants for spare change. The clock sounded like Buffy's heartbeat, and he was terribly afraid that if he didn't get the spell off her soon, it would stop ticking. Hands shaking lightly, he dialed the familiar number, told Wesley where to meet him with backup and to bring a book to counter protective shields.
When Angel, marginally calmer but still out for blood, returned to the house, Ethan was still sitting at the top of the stairs, hands together, eyes closed, a peaceful look on his face. Looks could be deceiving, Angel knew, and he didn't have any doubt that in order to keep the confusion spell *and* the barrier up, Ethan needed to be working very hard.
"How much is Lilah paying you?" Angel asked, pacing back and forth in the front hall hoping to distract the Brit.
Ethan cracked one eye open. "Still hanging around, I see," he muttered with annoyance. "And none of your business, I dare say."
Angel laughed. "That much?" Gesturing around, Angel cracked a smile, "And this house? How did you come about living in it? Did they kill the owners for you? Or did you take pleasure in doing that yourself?"
"Family's away on vacation, if you must know," Ethan snapped sarcastically, opening his eyes. "Now, be a good little vampire with a soul and go away."
Angel clapped his hands together in a sudden movement causing Ethan to give a little jump. "You don't seem to get it, Old Man. I'm not going away. You, unfortunately, became my business when you chose Buffy as your victim. See, love is a funny thing. It makes people act irrational, strike out when they don't mean it… kill for it."
"And you know all about killing and striking," Rayne retorted. "When you and Ripper's slayer seized the day all those years ago. That was irrational, wasn't it?"
Angrier, Angel continued pacing. What right did this man have? Calling his and Buffy's only time together irrational? To put that spell on Buffy, to make her suffer even more, to tear them apart, make their differences so blatant that it was beginning to give Angel a headache.
This time Ethan smiled. "You're really not all that different." Angel's head snapped up. "If only you knew what I was talking about."
Wesley, Cordelia, and Gunn chose that moment to come running in through the door. "Angel, dude, we're here, don't try anything stupid!" Gunn cried coming to stand beside the vampire.
Angel frowned. "Where's Fred?"
Gunn avoided his eye. "Staying with," mumbling into his hand, "Buffy."
"That bad," he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut, "that bad." Ethan Rayne was going to *pay* for this. Looking at Wes and Cordelia his eyes widened. "What happened to you?"
Cordelia wrinkled her nose. "Wesley turned on a demon. The result was NOT pretty."
Wesley gave her an evil look before holding up a book. "I believe I know the source of his power. It's actually quite novice, should be easy for me to rectify."
Angel nodded. "Good, get rid of the shield he's using." Glaring up at him Angel said, "I'm ready for some hand to hand combat."
Wesley flipped through the book, found a page and began reading something in Greek. Alarmed when his shield began to pulse, disappear, then reappear, Ethan stood up.
He held out his hands in a friendly fashion. "Hey… let's talk about this first, shall we?"
Angel glowered at him. "Talk fast, shield will be gone soon."
Rayne gulped. "I can increase the confusion spell by 100%, enough so that Buffy will never be able to think normally again, even if it's removed."
"You're a dead man," Angel declared even as Wesley began to read faster. "Find something more convincing."
Ethan stood up and crossed his arms over his chest. "Say don't you need a little help binding your soul? Happiness a problem with you and the girl lately?"
Wesley looked up questioningly. "Keep going," Angel said, not taking his eyes off Rayne, "why should I trust you?"
Ethan shrugged. "I don't know. Haven't really done much that is trustworthy." Snapping his fingers, he said, "Oh, I know, perhaps because you'll *kill* me."
"Lose the attitude," Angel warned, "take the spell of Buffy, and we'll see."
"You're way better than me," Rayne patronized before looking up at the sky and saying, "Release!'" Looking back at Angel, he smiled. "Confusion all gone."
Wesley looked up, repeated something. The shield pulsed one more time before disappearing. Angel ran up the stairs, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. "I don't usually kill people…"
"Only when they're lawyers," Cordelia supplied.
Angel turned back to glare at her. "That was special circumstances," he hissed between clenched teeth, "and I didn't *kill* them, I merely minded my own business."
She snorted. "Whatever you say boss."
Angel sighed and turned back to snarling at Ethan. "I don't usually kill people," he repeated, "unless they piss me off."
"Let me guess," the spellcaster choked out, "I piss you off."
Angel snarled, game face on. "Got it in one."
"So," slapping his hands together rather painfully, Ethan smiled. "Let's talk about that curse, hmmm?"
Angel let him down… and punched him in the nose.
"Ow! For God's sake's man! I'm talking about fixing your problem."
"I don't believe you."
Gunn nodded. "You just tried to kill his girlfriend, that doesn't make for a trustworthy relationship."
"Plus, he wants to kill you," Cordy added.
Angel sighed. "Alright," he hissed, containing a barely bubbling temper. "We're all going to go back to the Hyperion. We're going to check on Buffy. Then," looking at Ethan in anger he said, "the wizard will do his best to convince me not to kill him."
***
Fred was near tears. Buffy had been laying on Angel's bed for almost an hour. She was passing in and out of consciousness. Moans, groans, pleads to end it all kept escaping her mouth. Fred stood by her bedside, holding her hand and whispering reassurances. But there was only so much that she could do, and she was wondering just how long Buffy's will to live could survive.
"Angel hurry," she whispered in her thick southern accent.
"Angel," Buffy repeated, his name and it seemed to roll of her lips like a recited prayer.
Fred resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She had to deal with their electric sexual tension at the best of times. And it seemed that it didn't matter how delirious Buffy was, she still talked as if he had hung the moon.
"It's going to be okay," Fred said in her pathetic attempt at reassurance. Why did she get stuck with having to look after Buffy? It wasn't as if she could actually protect her if something came after her. Plus, she didn't know what to tell the semi-conscious slayer.
As if sensing Fred's distress, Dawn poked her head in the room. Her arms were wrapped around her thin, frail body and sympathy broke out on Fred's face. "How is she?" the girl whispered, eyes round with fear.
Fred tried to smile. "She's fighting, Dawny."
Her eyes filled with tears. "She always calls me Dawny. I used to hate that when I was younger."
Fred bit her lip. "She's going to be okay."
Dawn's bottom lip began to tremble. "You can't know that."
"Yes I can. Angel's not going to rest until he finds a way to help her."
"Angel knows less about what's going on then we do," Dawn snapped, staring at the ground. "He thinks he's already lost her."
For the first time, Fred was absolutely sure of herself. "No he doesn't. He's *afraid* he's already lost her."
"Same thing."
She shook her head. "No, fear will only make his resolve stronger."
As if on cue, Dawn's eyes widened. Buffy was sitting up, staring at them with eyes that could see clearly.
"Fred? Dawn? What's going on?" she asked, right before the world was blurred in a torrent of tears.
***
Angel had a bad feeling.
He knew that there wasn't something right with Buffy. He knew that even if the spell had been taken off, she's spent too long in a confused, dazed world. Who knew what she would do? She hadn't known where she was for the longest time and Angel was afraid of the long-time effects that might have on his strong slayer.
When they pulled up in front of the hotel, Angel couldn't get his door opened fast enough. When he was running towards the hotel, he couldn't get there fast enough. And once inside, it felt like it took miles to get to his bedroom.
Once there, he sucked in a deep unnecessary breath when he laid eyes on his Buffy curled up into a fetal ball and being rocked in Dawn's arms. She was crying, he knew that much. When Dawn saw him, her face was filled with relief. Without hesitating she let Angel take her and cradle her gently.
He whispered soft words of comfort, rocking her much the way that Dawn had. He barely noticed the slayer's sister leaving the room, followed closely by Fred. He was only aware of the way that Buffy was gripping on to him, a look of confusion and loss in her eyes.
She kept repeating his name over and over. Almost like she was hanging on to it like a lifeline. Hanging on to *him*. Guilt wracked him, and he wished that he had been fast enough, smart enough, and strong enough to have been able to save her earlier. He also knew how happy it made him to know he was her connection to the world.
And Angel was sure of one thing, Ethan Rayne was going to die.
Finally, her tears stopped, and she brought her big tear stained face up to his. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.
Sorry? She was saying SORRY? What did *she* have to be sorry for?
Some of his shock must have shown on his face because she said, "I've been so on the edge the past while. I know I've put you through a lot. I know I've been more grumpy, suicide Buffy then happy Buffy and… I'm sorry."
"Buffy," Angel croaked, not sure what to say. He hated the confusion on her face, and hated that he didn't know her as well as he used to.
She tried to smile, but failed. Taking a shaky breath, she moved her hand to cup his cheek, looking at him with love. "You don't know how much you've given me this year."
"I… well… I…" Angel trailed off, lost in her gaze. Words were meaningless anyway. Nothing in any language could ever describe what he felt for this girl.
She let out another choked sob. Closing her eyes, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close and resting her face against his. "I didn't know where I was…"
"I know," he whispered, pain and regret evident in his voice. "I wish that you didn't have to go through that…"
"Didn't remember that this was life," she said softly, her tone becoming panicky.
"It's okay," he soothed, even as his voice became hoarse, "this is real. Everything's okay now."
She choked on another sob and Angel was suddenly afraid she might start hyperventilating. He rubbed her back, moving his hands in gentle patterns, listening to the pounding of her heart. She finally relaxed against him, but didn't let go of her fierce hold. "I wanted to go back to where I was warm and happy," she admitted, "I wanted to die again, Angel. But… I couldn't. I wanted to survive. I wanted to see you again."
"Shhhh," he whispered, not wanting to hear more of her painful speech. So he cupped her small face in his large hands and turned her to look at him. Rubbing noses, he gave her a small kiss, pulling away before the situation could become more intimate. "I'll always be wherever you are."
She bit her bottom lip nervously, tried to compose herself. "Thank you for never giving up on me."
Thanks? She was saying thanks? "Buffy… don't… I'm only sorry I couldn't have saved you sooner. I'm sorry that I lied to you about my dream." Angel realized that he was babbling, his words pouring out even as his chest tightened with guilt, "I'm sorry that I let you go out earlier when you were angry. I'm sorry that I almost gave up…"
Buffy shook her head, pressing a hand over his mouth. She pressed a soft, feathery kiss to his forehead. "You saved me… you never really gave up." Removing her hand from his mouth, she pressed it to his heart and touched her lips to his. "Your heart would never let me go."
He closed his eyes, leaned against her, let her hug him. "Just don't leave me again," he pleaded, as her soft hands hovered over him. "Don't leave me again…" he repeated, suddenly afraid he was going to cry.
Buffy felt his warm tears against her neck, and she comforted him as he had done to her moments before. Her hands moved over his back, light touches that managed to send shivers down his spine. "I won't…" she promised, "I'm here… I'm not going anywhere. I'm your girl Angel."
Saying those words, remembering that last year they had spent together before he left, brought fresh painful tears to her eyes. She *was* always his. Nothing could be closer to the truth. And she was crying again.
Angel lifted his head just in time to see the tears leak out of her eyes. "I can't do this again without you…" he whispered firmly.
She shook her head. "You'll never have to again," she whimpered, even as his lips closed over hers. The kiss was desperate, raw. Teeth bumped, hands gripped, and tears mingled. It was the kiss of two lovers needing each other desperately, but forced to live in so much pain.
Buffy was beginning to become dizzy from lack of air, but it didn't matter. It was *Angel* and he was kissing her and had anything ever felt so right in the entire world? How could their love be the stuff nightmares were made out of? And what was she thinking about again?
She sucked in a breath once he pulled away. Touching her mouth lightly with a finger tip, Angel traced her face until he could wipe away her tears. She leaned into the palm of his hand and mouthed, "I love you."
He smiled warmly. "I love you, too," he said aloud.
"No more tears," Buffy decided. Sitting up, she gently kissed away the salty drops of water that Angel's eyes had been leaking. "It's time to start over. I promise I'm going to be better. I promise I'll embrace life again."
He closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of Buffy's mouth kissing away his pain. He listened to her words, let it wash over him, like a beautiful symphony. He was beginning to drown in her, as it was so easy to do. Worry began to etch in the far corner of his mind, worry of knowing what could happen if he didn't do something soon. "I have some news," he finally said, breaking the terribly intense moment.
She pulled away, studying him seriously. If he was human, Angel knew he would have blushed under her intense gaze. It was almost as if she was undressing him with her eyes… and if she was feeling even half of what he was feeling….
Sighing, he moved out of her arms and got up off the bed. Moving to the other side of the room didn't really help things any. But he figured that moving to the other side of the continent wouldn't help things any, either.
Buffy Summers awoke feelings in him that no other had or possibly could.
"The person that did this to you is being tied up and guarded by the other's downstairs…"
"Who did this to me?" she asked, fear in her eyes.
Angel realized how much she was really holding in. How much she was trying to cover up. Angel growled, low and dangerously. Ethan had stirred up her memories, used them against her, and made her feel the worst thing possible.
What it was like to be lost and alone.
"Ethan Rayne," he spat, the words almost foul.
Buffy looked at him with wide eyes. Then a little smile quirked its way across her face. Suddenly, she let out a noise that sounded like a snort.
Angel felt himself relax. 'She's OKAY!' his mind screamed. 'She's going to be okay!' And then he felt tired. This day had been too long, too hard, and all he wanted was to curl up with her and sleep. But he laughed anyway because he didn't know what else to do.
Buffy's hooted sounds of laughter joined his, and she lay back on the bed clutching her stomach. "I'm sorry," she gasped, "but the way you said his name…" she rolled over and giggled some more, "so angry!"
Angel's low bellied chuckles followed. "No one gets away with hurting you."
She grinned, sitting up. "Ethan, huh?" She shook her head, "Bastard."
Sitting down next to her, he tried not to show how relieved he was that she was able to laugh at the situation. "Yeah… what an idiot."
She grasped his hand, looked at him fondly. "Should have known better than to mess with *my* vampire."
The two shared a secret smile. It was a smile that warmed Angel's cold heart. Sending shoots of warmth and joy through every part of his body. Buffy was *alive*. She was alive. She was with him. They were laughing together. And they had just shared an automatic lover's smile.
For that one moment, that one moment as they beamed at each other, Angel experienced a moment like he had only one other time in his whole life. It was a feeling of completion, of understanding, and happiness. Pure, untainted happiness.
The moment passed and Angel had one horrible second to realize what had just happened before the pain hit him with full force. He gasped, dropping from the bed onto his hands and knees. His chest hurt, his lungs were fiery with the effort to draw breath, but he fought it. He could feel his soul being ripped away from his body, feel his demon soaring with life.
Buffy kneeled down next to him, touching his arms, her worried face looking at him. "Angel… what's wrong…"
'No!' his mind yelled, 'not now! She needs you! She needs YOU!'
"Get out of here!" he gasped, fighting with everything he had.
"Angel… no…" her voice was so lost… so hurt.
"Leave!"
She backed away from him, collapsed against a wall. "No…" her hands hovered nervously around her throat, "NO!"
"LEAVE!" he hollered, so close to surrendering. She just stared at him with wide eyes. "Buffy, I love you… but get out of here now…"
She finally managed to stand up, move to the door. "I can't kill you again!" she protested, voice high pitched.
"Ethan," Angel closed his eyes, took a deep breath, "ask Ethan…"
"I love you," she whispered.
"GO!"
She nodded, opening the door. He heard her run down the hallway, going as fast as she could to the lobby where the others were. And he couldn't hold on any longer. Letting out a deep moan, he let go.
He rose to a standing position. Cocking his head to the side, he listened for the sound of human life. Grinning, Angelus looked around his room. The bed was ruffled from where him and Buffy had been snuggling lately. He sniffed the air, her vanilla scent still hung in the air.
Laughing, he walked slowly and calmly towards the door. "My, my, now isn't this an interesting turn of events."
The End
A/N: Well. It's not TOTALLY over. Only Drip, Drip, Drip is over. I know it doesn't mean much now… but… I'm almost certain there's going to be a happy ending eventually.
