Part 5
~The blood red silk made her tanned flesh seem sallow in comparison; encouraged by the scintillating moonlight she had never looked so picturesque to her mate. His lust-filled gaze meandered possessively athwart her nude body as a jubilant smirk broke out across his callously charismatic features, making him even more mesmerizing than should have been by any means possible. Slipping out of his orientally designed black silk kimono, he climbed up upon the king-sized bed; ostensibly stalking her - his prey. Leaning over her yearning body, warm flesh brushed against the chilled flesh of his undead body escalating the ache, the need as he kissed her abruptly upon her plump pink lips. Moving away from her pressing grasp, he ran his ice-cold hands down the length of her arousal flushed skin, parting her toned thighs to permit himself complete admittance to her neither regions. As his mouth leisurely descended towards her golden nest of curls...~
Buffy awoke with a jerk as she was bumped and pushed aside by her classmates escaping the horrors of the English Lit class. Hastily extracting herself from her scrumptious dream and gathering her many belongings she exited the virtually vacant classroom and entered the congested hallway, heading towards her locker. As she came within reach of it she saw that her friends, Willow and Gunn, were waiting for her there. It still shocked her, but even after three months of living in San Francisco and attending Bay High, she still found it weird not to see Cordelia and the other Cordettes standing there instead.
"Hey Buffy," Willow acknowledged her with good cheer, moving out of the way so that Buffy could obtain access to her locker.
"Hey," Buffy replied trying disastrously to stifle a yawn and smile at the same time.
Gunn leaned back against the locker bank and chuckled. "Sleep through English again?"
"Like always," Buffy replied knowing that it was really no use in lying to them. She tossed her books and assorted other crap into her messy locker before turning to them. "Mrs. Muller really hates me."
"Ready for lunch?" Willow butted into the tête-à-tête before Gunn could answer back. She did not want to seem like a nerd or anything but she did happen to like Mrs. Muller and the rest of the teachers that Gunn and Buffy consistently ragged on.
Buffy slammed the door of the archaic metal locker shut with a loud bang. "I have never been readier."
The three teenagers headed towards the school's large cafeteria - crammed full with the accustomed suspects - and after buying their respective lunches, the group headed over to the table that Tara had saved for them. Tara was a long time friend of Willow's and Gunn's having grown up with them and Buffy had to admit that she did like her, but she was still a little thrown off balance by the fact that both Willow and Gunn had been involved with Tara - at separate times. A big part of Buffy hoped that the quiet blond did not have her in her sights as her next potential date.
The group ate their lunches and talked about whatever thing that their teenaged brains could come up with. In veracity the most important subject matter that was deliberated was the impending school dance - The Spring Fling - and who was of course going with whom. Surprise, surprise Willow, Gunn and Tara were all going to it together and they did of course invite their new friend to go with them, but Buffy beg to be excused in favour of doing homework.
After lunch the group headed their individual ways and Buffy spent an exceedingly mind-numbing afternoon filled with science, math and an assortment of other pedagogic activities. Since it was Wednesday Buffy dumped her crap in her locker and headed towards the gym for cheerleading practice, still slightly saddened that he would not be able to walk home with her friends. Buffy had no genuine aspiration to be a cheerleader, but Prue had decided it would bring some normalcy into Buffy's bizarre life and had insisted she try-out. Now she was trapped cheering her little lungs out at practice twice per week and at every malodorous game that came along.
When the torment was ultimately over - at least until Friday night's game - Buffy began the lengthy walk back home, wishing that Phoebe had not decided to take that class on superstitions so that there would be someone to pick her up. She had been slogging her way to the manor for a good five minutes when a shiny red sports car pulled up next to her. When the window rolled down the driver's identity was given away to be Jake Huffman, resident football star of Bay High and one of Gunn's other best buddies.
"Hey Buffy," he greeted her with a flirtatious smile. "Do you want a lift home?"
Unenthusiastic about having to haul her cheerleading crap and school books the remainder of the way to the manor, Buffy agreed and climbed into the car next to Jake, giving him straightforward directions to the manor. The ride was bathed in unmitigated silence, not a distressing one but more one of two people who do not know what to say to one another. When they pulled up in front of the manor a few minutes later, Buffy went to climb out was when Jake at long last elected to speak.
"Uh - Buffy?"
She turned to face him, "Yeah?"
"I was just - uh - wondering if - uh - since Gunn said that you weren't going with anyone - uh - maybe we could go to the dance -"
Buffy merely stood there, traumatized into stillness. She and Jake had scarcely exchanged half dozen words since she had arrived at Bay High and consequently his abrupt invitation was an unquestionable bombshell. "I - uh - need to think about it," she answered as candidly as she could. After all she was mated to the exceedingly absent and non-communicative Angelus and that did sort of preclude her from dating anyone else.
Jake nodded in reluctant acceptance, "Okay. I guess that I could - uh - wait for my answer."
Buffy climbed out of the car as hastily as she could and bellowed a speedy goodbye before she dashed inside the manor. Once there she sprinted up to her bedroom (once Grams room) and dumped all of her stuff on to the floor, before she jumped upon her queen-sized bed. Grabbing the phone that was so opportunely placed beside the bed, Buffy dialled an already familiar number.
"Wils," she said as soon as the line was picked up. "You are *so* not going to believe what just happened."
Graduation day came and went without any ceremonies or traditions for Oz, not that he expected or sought after any. He was emphatically thankful that he had gained enough credits to graduate ahead of the rest of his classmates, band buddies and an assortment of other friends. Now of course he had a choice to make, he could join Buffy and the cousins or hang around LA a little longer - Buffy would understand either way.
Oz was sat there upon the couch pondering his predicament when he heard the doorbell ring. When he opened it he found Cordelia standing there with a bottle of champagne in one hand and racy scrap of black lingerie in the other. Having erroneously turned to his little sister's best friend for succour several times before, he knew that he should send her away this time, but instead he merely opened the door wider and let her inside.
It was for the most part due to the events that followed that caused Oz to make an expeditious and irrevocable decision, to move on and join his family. As he laid there in his bed, wide awake with Cordelia lying next to him delicately snoring, a sensation of foreboding settled over him and he could more or less picture how the rest of his life would be in LA. Married to Cordelia with two-point-three kids and some boring job, never again to play his music or use his Goddess-given powers.
He waited until his guest finally departed, playing the part of a dutiful lover until she did so. However the moment she was out of the door - with the promise of an intimate dinner - Oz was on the phone to the first estate agent he could find and arranging an appointment to view the house. It was time to move forward to claim whatever destiny awaited him, far away from LA and Cordelia.
Three Weeks Later...
The door to the penthouse swung open with a groan gesticulating its lack of use over the past eight or so months, but the three travellers were well beyond caring. As Spike and Drusilla without more ado headed towards their private rooms, Angelus took a good look around the place. There was of course something wrong with it, something that he could not quite put his finger on.
As he wandered into the copious master bedroom that he had shared - at least part of the time - with Buffy, he saw that there was a substantial layer of dust covering everything. It was at that precise moment that he knew what was wrong. Despite his lack of communication with her, he had expected her to use the penthouse's facilities in order to feel a connection with him. However from the look of the room, not a single living being had been there since he had left for Europe.
Where the hell was she? Angelus could still feel her and he knew for certain that she was still alive and undamaged, but for some unfathomable raison d'être Buffy still felt far away from him. Agitated and ill at ease with this recent turn of events, Angelus left the penthouse and entered the cold night to hunt his frustration away.
A small amount of sadistic kills later, he still did not feel any better about his circumstances. As an ice-cold breeze hit the coolness of his skin he stalked off in the direction of his mate's family home, indomitably to get to the bottom of it. He used the time that it took him to get there to assure himself that the trepidation raging in the pit of his overfull stomach was unsubstantiated and that Buffy would be there, pissed and waiting for his return.
Regrettably all of his convincing was for nothing because the Summers' household was in unreserved darkness with a 'for sale' sign stuck into the dried-out front lawn. There was not a sign of life anywhere, not even a cricket chirped and Angelus anguish grew into an unmitigated antagonism.
His temper ran out of control at his beloved mate's non-appearance, more than ever since it was obvious that she would not be returning to there. Was this some sort of perverted retribution? Where could she have gone? There was only one thing that he knew for certain, that he was going to - needed to - find her and soon, because there was no way he was going to exist without her for much longer.
TBC....