Chapter Eight.
Angel.
Buffy leans against the wall of the school, one leg proped on the brick behind her. I watch her as she sighs, and continues to look up at the night sky even as I approach her.
I stand in front of her, and put my hands against the wall on either side of her head. She still won't meet my gaze, so I stare at her until she's forced to or look ridiculous for not looking at me.
"What?" she says, and crosses her arms in front of her chest.
"Angel, don't give me that look-" she starts, but I bend down and cover her mouth with my own before she can get any more words out.
I push her against the wall and she grunts in surprise, raising her arms as if she had a question. I slant my head, and she tilts hers the other way, getting as close to me as she can without us blending together.
Her arms go around my neck and one hand grabs my hair at the nape, yanking on it.
A growl slips unbidden out of my throat, and she moans in response.
I've never kissed her like this. I just want…I need her to know that's she beautiful. And desirable. And that she's everything to me.
After the news we just got, any moment of happiness we can steal is a well spent moment.
Her mouth opens in a breathy sigh, and I plunge my tounge in.
No slow romantic kiss, this one.
She shudders as we devour each other, and I tremble along with her. Gooseflesh raises on my arms, and she clutches me tighter, and I move my hands from her back to her waist.
"Angel," she whispers into me, and I move my lips to the column of her throat, nipping and nuzzling there.
She makes a funny gasping noise then, and wraps one leg around my thigh.
She decides turnabout is fair play, and suckles my neck.
Hard.
Sparks swim in my eyes, and I rumble deep in my chest, planting one hand possessively on her hip and the other in her hair.
"B-Buffy," I finally get out.
She gazes at me, eyes unfocused, hair mussed, lips wet and swollen. God, I want her so badly.
I press my lips to hers one last time, and she runs her hands up my chest, and ends up cupping my face.
I shake my head, and realize her neck is covered in small bruises and my shirt is halfway unbuttoned.
"What- what was that for?" she says softly, hazel eyes still fuzzy looking.
"I thought you looked like you needed a reminder of some of the good things in life," I murmur, and she cracks a grin, looking a little more together.
"You can remind me of that anytime," she says, and runs her hands back down my front, stopping at my waist.
I drop a kiss on the top of her head, and step away finally.
"I'm sorry, Buffy."
She looks at me askance, and asks, "What for?"
Now it's my turn to sigh and look away. "The Master."
She follows me, and catches my hand. "Angel, it's not your fault some nut case wants to raise him again. They're gonna have to do it from dust though, unless they wanna try and glue him back together."
I smile slightly, then it drops. "Buffy, they don't need the whole skeleton. You heard Willow. Only a little of the ash, and a spell, some other mystical ingrediant we don't know about, and oh, coincidentally a blood rain and presto! Instant Master."
She looks at me a moment, then bursts into peals of laughter.
"What? What did I say?" I ask, my feelings kind of hurt. Why is she laughing at me?
"Oh, Angel," she says, wiping tears from her eyes, "you've been hanging with me way too long. You're starting to talk like me too. Next thing I know you'll be saying things like 'rude much?' and wanting to borrow my Cosmo."
I cock my eyebrow at her, and deadpan it. "Oh, but my subsription just came in the mail yesterday."
I'm rewarded with another great peal of laughter, and can't help but grin with her.
She needs any little humor in her life she can get. And I'm honored to be the one to give it to her.
We're sitting on a bench in front of the school, Buffy trying to get up the energy to go back in and start with the major mojo research, as she would say.
"I just don't get it. What is it with the stupid vamps around here? Why always with the Master? Is he the only one? And couldn't they have picked someone a little less, well, creeptacular?"
I nod with her. "He's very old, Buffy. And very powerful. I would guess someone wants to take advantage of that power, and hope that he would reward them with some of it for the privilege of resurrecting him. Most vampires aren't that smart; they're just in it for the thrill of the kill and the bash and crash, as someone I used to know once said."
She eyes me then. "Who said that?"
I shake my head. "Nobody. Nobody you'd like, anyway."
She stands, ready to go back inside and help her friends and her watcher.
I stand as well, but begin to head in the opposite direction.
"Angel, aren't you coming in?" she asks, and I face her, saying, "I want to check with some of the local riff raff. See if they know anything or have heard any rumors."
I raise my eyes to the sky, and the hairs at the back of my neck stand up. Dawn's coming.
"Plus, I have to get home soon," I add, and she nods, realizing what time it's getting to be.
She walks to me, and grasps my hands, looking down at my feet. "I'll miss you."
I smile a half smile, and take her in my arms.
"Whatever I did in order to have you, please let me keep on doing it," I whisper.
"You're doing it now," she says, and looks up at me.
"What? Hugging you?"
"Just being you. Helping me. Supporting me. Reminding me that not everything on the Hellmouth is a big freak fest."
I kiss her lightly, and say, "Happy to oblige."
I wave as I walk off, and head toward the docks, and the oh so lovely low life hang outs there, and hopefully toward some information.
I don't see the aluminum baseball bat being swung like Sosa hitting a homer toward my skull until it's too late.
TBC.
