Summary: Set about a year after Not Fade Away. Angel's not happy, neither is Buffy. But she comes to town and needs his help and he just needs her. Not a great summary, but let me know if I should finish it up.
Disclaimers: Mutant Enemy and Joss Whedon own it all.
Feedback: Appreciated
Buffy felt the strong arms catch her. But it really didn't matter because she was floating. Floating with strong arms holding her close and the familiar smell invading her senses. It was all of the good. She knew she should try to open her eyes, fight the feeling of comfort enveloping her. But she didn't really want to. It felt so good. And she was so tired of fighting. It felt like heaven and she wanted to stay this time.
Angel carried Buffy up the stairs, having given in to his desires. She gave a slight moan and dug herself deeper into his embrace. Her small hand clutching at his skin, trying to get even closer.
He gave a low growl and pulled her tighter to him. Mine, he thought, my mate. And even in her slumber, she knew he was hers.
Angel felt the possessive demon stir within him as he laid Buffy on the bed. His impulse was to rip her clothes off and take her while she slept. He shook his head to clear his thoughts.
After the last battle, when the smoke had cleared and the losses had almost been total, Angel had roared at the gods. At the gods, at the goddesses, at the powers, at the universe. And once he had stopped, once he had stilled his mind, he accepted. All of it. Not just the loss, but the good and the evil. The right and the wrong. The soul and the demon. Doyle had thought he was still fighting, but he had let go.
He had fought his demon for so long, afraid that if he let his guard down it would consume him, soul not withstanding. But with his acceptance came an understanding. He was a vampire, a demon with a soul. But a demon, never-the-less. And he wasn't afraid. The soul out-weighed the demon, but the demon tempered the soul. He was no longer the open, bleeding wound of guilt. The gypsy curse had done it's work. Made him hate himself, suffer for the monster he had been. And suffer he did, for almost a century and now he had nothing left. He couldn't even bring himself to feel guilt for what he was now doing. This was something he knew both of them needed.
He did, was doing, all that he could to balance the evil. But the past was the past, over and done. Now was all there was. Buffy had accepted this, accepted him, years ago. And now he could finally do the same. He no longer felt a monster when the bloodlust hit him, as it only really did with Buffy. She understood him, was probably the only one who did now.
There were no illusions; the dark was in his soul, right along with the light. Just as it was with almost every other being on the planet. Including more than a few demons. Spike had always known this. But he, Angel, was nothing if not a thick headed mick, as Spike reminded his quite often. So it took him awhile to come to terms.
As he looked down at Buffy's sleeping form, he was glad of his revelations. He would never be free of his demon, but his demon could never be free of him. They were merged now, the two, one. Never to be separate again. No fear of losing his soul, but no promise of ever being mortal. And that was alright.
The soul and the demon reveled.
He watched as Buffy stirred, her eyes moving rapidly beneath her lids. Dreaming. He focused. Dreaming of him. Dreaming of them. Angel smiled. The smile didn't quite reach his eyes. But, in time, it would.
She looked to her left, at the large mirror covering a large portion of the wall above the armchair. She could see Angel beneath her, his hands clasping her hips, moving her up and down, fast, faster. She couldn't look away from the erotic picture they painted.
She felt as if she should be embarrassed, but they looked so beautiful together. They belonged together.
She looked down, into Angel's face, his eyes dark with passion, then back to the mirror. He turned his head, as well, looking at her in the reflection, his eyes spitting out flecks of gold. Buffy looked at her own face, her eyes, sparks of green emanating out, swirling around them.
She shook her head. "Angel, how can I see you in the mirror?"
"Does it matter?"
"What is it? What's happening?" She should be panicked, but could only stare into his eyesand feel a sense of exhilaration and fulfillment.
He growled, deep in his chest. "Just be with it baby, it's you. Accept your differences, revel in them." Angel rolled them over, so he was now on top. "Remember, baby, you came back different." He threw his head back as her bared his fangs and bit into her flesh.
He continued to thrust into her until they both shattered into a million pieces of light. A million gold and green stars floating to the heavens.
