Text in Bold from previous chapters.
Back to now, early evening, kitchen, Buffy and Angel's house.
...
Buffy stood stalk still, her face had paled as he'd spoken. She'd read the report, but she hadn't known about Gregory's history with her husband, their discussion, or the bite. "You...you didn't note that in the report." She reminded him, needing a few more minutes to digest everything.
"No. I purposely left it out." He admitted, looking down at the ground.
Shaking her head, she asked "Why?"
He lifted his eyes to hers before answering, "Because you needed to hear it from me first."
Taking a step towards him, she looked up and read the conflict going on behind his eyes, "If you wanted me to know, then why did you wait two days to tell me?"
She watched his face, he looked like he wanted to pull her into his arms but was afraid to reach out. She made the choice for him, closing the distance between them and resting her head against his chest. She hugged him as his arms enveloped her, felt his nose bury itself in her hair as he inhaled.
She wasn't sure he was going to answer when he said, "Buffy, I bit another woman and drank from her. According to vampire laws...I...I cheated on you."
Buffy closed her eyes against the rush of emotions that welled up in her heart, a mix of betrayal and rage, alongside heartache and loss. 'Cheating on me...no wonder he's a mess.'
Neither of them spoke for at least a minute, before Buffy pulled back. "I don't know if I'd call it cheating, per say." She looked up at him with a weak smile, "It's not like you enjoyed it."
She was expecting him to agree immediately, to say 'of course I didn't, don't be absurd' The fight would be over, they could kiss and make up.
He said nothing.
Fear gripped her heart as her hazel-green eyes crept up to his deep dark ones, looking inside the unfocused orbs.
"Angel. You didn't enjoy it, right?" She addressed, not wanting it to be a question.
'Didn't I?' He thought, remembering the sensation of heat flooding his mouth, the metallic liquid pooling on his tongue, swallowing down the taste of life itself.
He blinked then, his eyes refocusing back on the here and now and out of his mind. He looked down at his wife, could see her fear and despair clearly written on her face. He could see the hope in her eyes.
He knew what he had to say to reassure her, knew just the right words to make her smile again, welcome him into her arms.
The problem was, those words weren't the truth.
That was Angelus's more viscous weapon, the truth. He wielded it like a sword, cleaving chunks from his victims before ever laying a finger on them.
He looked down at the laminate floor, his heart clenching at her pain. "Buffy, I can't say what you want me to say."
Shaking her head, she felt her stomach plummeting down, down, down as she took a few steps back from him, "Wh-why not?" Her voice was shaking.
"Because it would be a lie." He answered immediately, looking up at her pained face, he added, "I won't lie to you."
She backed up again, till her back hit the wall. "Angel...what are you telling me?"
He didn't move towards her, didn't even try to calm her down, "I did enjoy it, the reminder of what I had, or what I could do. Deep inside, a part of me always misses what I once was. That clarity and freedom that comes to you without the restraints of a soul. I spent over two hundred years forming death into my masterpieces, my artwork for my pleasure only, writ in blood, my will etched into the faces of those I chose as my canvas. I was Angelus, the demon with the face of an Angel. I wasn't just the angel of death, I was the God of death."
His eyes misted again, his gaze not seeing what he eyes were pointed at, "A part of me wants that back."
Buffy wasn't sure if her heart was beating, hearing those words spoken from her husband's mouth, seeing the longing in his eyes.
It was the morning of her 17th birthday all over again.
Buffy had read what Angelus had been like in the Watcher's files, the atrocities he'd committed were well documented. She's experienced his heartlessness in person on several occasions. Buffy correctly suspected only a small fraction of his true brutality had been recorded.
No watcher had have written down the full extent of Angelus's passion for death, solely because no witnesses had ever survived.
To see that level of sheer evil reflected in her lover's eyes...
"Are you going to use it?"
Buffy suddenly looked up, shocked to see Angel was only inches away, his guarded expression carefully blank as he studied her pale face.
She felt frozen in time, watching helplessly as he lifted his right hand, moving it towards her face, then gently tucked a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear.
How someone who just spoke about missing being a sadistic serial killer could then perform such an intimate gesture...
She looked down then, realizing it was she who had moved, not him. A stake was in her dominate hand, pressing brutally hard against his chest, directly over his beating heart. A small bloom of blood visible on his shirt where the point had penetrated though the skin.
Appalled, she dropped the stake and staggered back, confused and shaking. 'What did I almost do!'
It was the slayer in her that had responded automatically, reacting to the threatening tone of his demon.
His face was human, but that essence was lingering just under the surface, looking for an opening.
He didn't move, but his eyes did follow the stake for a moment, almost longingly, before turning back up to hers.
What could she say? Should she tell him to leave? Apologize? Demand he apologize? Instead, she asked, "Why? Why tell me this?" 'Why do this to me?'
He seemed too calm, too indifferent as he spoke, took much like the heartless monster he'd been, "Because it's the truth."
He took a step forewords, but at her reflexive jerk back, he remained stationary. She could see the hurt in his eyes.
"Truth of what? You've reverted to a cold, heartless psychopath?" She bit out at him, suddenly terrified he was expecting her to kill him.
He blinked then, as if he hadn't thought of that. "You asked me if I enjoyed what I did, and the answer to that is yes. However, no, I can't ever be what I was again. That drive to kill, that passion...it burned its course, that fire can't be rekindled. It isn't a part of who I am now, but it is inside me. If you peel back all the layers, that rotting core is still there, buried, but not completely forgotten."
He took a step towards the counters, not in her direction, "The dark paths I've walked can never be retraced, but I can't tell you I've forgotten the scenery, I can't say I didn't dance along that path to the song of death in my un-beating heart. For better or worse, those footsteps will always remain, they're what led me to where I am now. Everything I am is built on that bloody foundation, and I can't tell you I didn't enjoying laying it."
He met her watery eyes. "The question is, can you live with that?"
'I can feel her disgust, her fear and resentment...if she can't open herself to this side of me...we can't be.' He thought angrily, realizing a larger part of his history was being evil than being good. He wouldn't brush off who he'd been, he would no longer bury his old life just to conform to the ideals of his so called friends and family. He vividly remembered when he was under the influence of the Hex, how his anger had brought his old self to the surface. Buffy had tolerated him, interacted with him as a means to an end, but she'd wanted that part of him gone. 'Can she not love all of me? Even the evil parts?'
Her first response was, "I don't know." It was too much, too soon. She needed time to process what he was saying, to try and understand what was driving him to stir this all up.
Nodding his assumption she couldn't handle this side of him, he slipped his wedding band from his left finger, tracing the silver Claddagh ring with his thumb, "It's a loaded question, not something I expect you to answer on the spot."
"What are you doing?" She asked in alarm, eyes following his ring as it left his finger, knowing for sure she felt more betrayed by that action alone than anything he'd just said to her.
"Three days." He told her, laying the ring on the counter, "This will be your answer. If you give it back to me, I'll take it as you understand and accept that darkness inside of me as it is, and nothing changes between us."
"And if I don't?" She asked, shocked he was giving her a ultimatum, like she'd done something wrong.
His jaw tightened, "Then things change between us."
"Change? You'd leave?" She asked, her mind racing.
His eyes moved down to her belly, tracing the gentle swell of early second trimester pregnancy. "I'll never leave my children." His tone almost sounded like a threat. 'Or you.'
Her hand moved to cover over her stomach, protectively. "If you tried to take them, you'd fail."
They'd had a fight about this once, when he'd been under the Hex, he'd taken them, hid them from them both. Buffy would never allow him to do that again, even if it was for their safety.
"I know. I won't dare to try that again." His lips curved up into a smile, almost teasingly, "You'd stake me for sure."
He glanced down at his ring before looking back at her, "If I don't get this back, then...we won't be together."
"Is there a third option?" She asked, "If I don't want you around?" Just the fact he'd even dare hint at the -D- word make her want to throttle him. 'What the hell is he doing, saying! Would he really divorce me?'
Angel straightened, his eyes meeting hers, "That option is on the floor, by your foot."
The stake was on the floor, by her foot.
'Death is the only way to get rid of me.' Buffy filled in, glancing down at the shaft of wood before back up him, except there was no him to look at.
"Three days." His voice echoed back, but he was already walking out the front door.
...
Buffy paced in her living room, she had to get out of the kitchen, away from the looming presence of his wedding band.
It was so much to take in.
His voice, his moves, his words.
This was the man of her nightmares, the darkest part of the man she loved.
Angel still had his soul, she could feel it within him, but it did nothing to stop those horrific words from spilling from between his lips. There was nothing to stop those words from filling up the space between them and creating an unscalable wall.
'Can I live with him still knowing what is really in his heart?' She asked herself, 'Could I live without him?'
Looking up at the clock, she noted in was still early in the evening, barely 6pm, not that she had any desire to leave the house now, or do much more than curl up on the couch with a pint of ice cream. 'Anything but Cookie-dough-fudge-mint-chip.'
'We were supposed to be having a nice child-free night. We should be making love or otherwise spending time together...not this...this...what is this?'
Ignoring in impulse to snack her pain away, Buffy resumed her pacing, trying to picture what life would be like with Angel merely her children's father, the man she used to be married to...her ex. It would be like when her parents got divorced, they'd live separately, he'd have visitation rights, she'd seen him when he picked up or dropped off the kids. He'd very likely still be part of Angel Investigations; could she bear to see him on a daily basis but not be with him?
She was sure that option would be the hardest. Go back to him being a stranger, just someone she used to know.
'Why am I even contemplating this as an option, what the hell just happened, how could he ask me this? What is wrong with him?'
The stake had already been collected and thrown in the weapons chest, her heart aching at the sight Angel's blood staining the tip. As far as she was concerned, that wasn't an option either. There was too much of her heart invested in Angel to ever willingly murder him, and it would be murder too, not slaying, he was alive after all. She'd have to drive the wood shaft into his living beating heart.
The thought turned her stomach.
'Unless he ever tried to take my kids.' Murder would defiantly be considered follow a kidnapping attempt.
Sighing in frustration, she silently wished Angel was here to hold her, to tell her everything was going to be alright.
The irony wasn't lost on her.
'I wonder where he went.' Looking out the kitchen window, she knew he wasn't in the tree house. Ignoring the ring on the counter, she headed back out though the living room then upstairs, going to distract herself by cleaning the kids' bedrooms while they were with Connor.
'Just to be on the safe side, I'll call and see how everything is going...'
...
Half the night passed, by then, the house was entirely spotless.
Exhausted from the party but more so the emotional drain of the fight, Buffy checked her cell for any messages from Angel as she changed and readied for bed.
She didn't expect to sleep at all, so after an hour of tossing and turning she was shocked when she opened her eyes to morning sunlight streaming in though the bedroom windows. Alarmed, she sat up, checking the clock and finding it was just after 7am.
'I slept all night!' Crashed though her mind as she jumped out of bed, having been fully planning to call or text her husband until she knew he was safe before actually falling asleep.
'Shit, shit, shit.' She grabbed her phone off the nightstand, discouraged to find it lacking any notifications.
'I should call him.' She thought as she tied her robe and headed out the bedroom door and down the stairs towards the kitchen, she needed coffee. 'Crap, except I can't have caffeine...'
As she passed the living room couch, her feet stopped.
'That blanket wasn't folded like that yesterday.' She noted, her slayer eyes scanning the room, 'That pillow was moved too.' The kitchen was similar, there was a bowl and a spoon in the strainer. The old tea kettle was on the stove, the water within was warm.
A moment later, she looked in the garage. Angel's GTX had been parked in the right side, their new SUV on the left. The SUV was there, but he GTX was missing.
'That's why I fell asleep. Angel came home last night, he crashed on the couch and had breakfast here before leaving in the GTX this morning.'
Feeling relieved he'd been home and slightly less bad about falling sleep, she brewed up her decaff coffee for one and took his bowl and spoon from the strainer, filling it with the Count Chocula her husband had eaten that morning.
A smile tugged at her lips, 'At least he had the decency to leave a little milk.' There wasn't much left in the gallon bottle in the fridge, but it was enough for her bowl.
...
After showering and dressing, she'd tried his cell but it went direct to voicemail. 'Did I really expect him to answer?'
Sighing, she'd called Connor next, the kids were having a blast at Disneyland, there was nothing to worry about. And in the off chance Angel showed up at the theme park, he'd give her a call first. She'd ignored his questioning tone when she'd made the request, then thanked him for taking them and hung up.
Buffy huffed down on the couch after spending a few hours sharpening and polishing her home weapons collections, her body feeling strained and exhausted, and it wasn't from the polish or gestating a baby.
It was getting close to lunch time, but food was on the bottom of her priority list. Granted her baby was on the top, so eating was going to happen regardless of her apatite.
The kitchen seemed like a daunting place now, anytime she entered, she felt like Angel's ring was watching her.
She'd managed to clean the entire kitchen last night, the only place left untouched was the circle of counter beneath the silver Claddagh. It wasn't known why she felt like she couldn't touch the ring, but all the same she avoided it. 'Is that my body telling me something?' She wondered, rubbing her neck, which had been throbbing since...well about three days now. 'Since about the same time he'd supposedly enjoyed sucking on other woman.' Buffy thought darkly.
Their conversation had been replaying in her mind all night and day, on a constant repeating loop. She'd never head Angel talk like that. In all their years together, he'd never claimed anything but regret, or at worst, indifference, about his time as a evil demon. He'd never really talked about how he'd felt while evil.
Several conversations popped into her mind.
He tried something else. "I remember killing for fun. Draining people just to see the look of death cross their face..."
"Angel?" Buffy asked, concerned where he was going with this.
"I have the faces of hundreds, thousands even in my head...each one I snuffed out before their time, just because I could."
He took a few steps and leaned against the wall, arms crossed in front of his bare chest. "I used to see it as a badge, a legacy to my time as a vampire. Then I had my soul restored...and my treasure trove of trophies became my prison cell. I saw their faces and I was haunted, driven nearly mad with guilt and remorse. Now though, now it's different."
"Different how? Willow asked, too caught up in the story to remember being too afraid to talk.
"I'm not buried by guilt anymore" He continued, "I understand that I was soulless at the time, I had no free will. Don't get me wrong, I do feel bad, I do regret...but no more than you would regret hitting a deer while driving. Circumstances were out of my control; in essence it's not my fault. I accept that now.
The Angelus you know, the soulless evil is dead. I am him, but at the same time, I'm not. In the same breath, Angel the vampire cursed with a soul is dead. I'm him too, but not.
I chose to ensoul myself, there may have been some self preservation issues involved, but I still made the choice. That means I'm not likely to revert to what I was, I can't lose my soul again because it is a part of my demon. Soul and demon, now part of the same essences.
Will that change some of my personality traits? Yes. Do I know which ones? No.
Does it make me evil? Pretty sure it doesn't.
My demonic side is still satisfied feeding off my own blood, there will be exceptions when I'm badly hurt, but in general, I prefer chocolate over something red.
I'm still a champion for the Powers; I'll still fight for my world and my family. I can say whoever tries to get between either of those things is going to regret it.
Even before the merger, when Cerberus's magician brother Graegus attacked their home and stripped Angel of his soul; when Angelus was free, he'd been a prick to her, he'd toyed with her, he'd been the staple of all Angelus had stood for in his day; but he'd still protected her, fought for her, bled for her. He wouldn't kill her, or turn her, he wanted to stay with her, even choosing to re-ensoul himself because he somehow managed to love her even without a soul.
He pressed her back against the wall, moving his leg against her to prevent another groin shot.
She closed her eyes and waited for the bite.
She felt his lips on her neck, the wetness of his tongue.
"Besides, you wouldn't have that fire I love if you were cold." He whispered into her ear.
She felt his weight disappear, the bite never came.
Even as the demon he'd said he loved her in his own twisted way.
Right after Liam was born, when they were still dealing with Angel coming to terms with his soul merger, he'd bitten her. They'd fought about Angel now having demonic impulses, but those hadn't scared Buffy away. They talked it over, expressed their feeling and needs and had been able to move on.
"You're right, when I married you, you were more human than demon. But you were completely undead when I fell in love with you. I never had a problem with you being a demon, Angel; I used to crave your cool skin, the silence in your chest, because that's what you were, that's what I wanted. Then you changed…and so did what I wanted. I suddenly craved warm skin and a beating heart…because that's what you had to offer me. It never mattered what you were…I just wanted you."
The demon within had never bother her.
"He's still in here" he began, "I…thought he was gone, but he's not. He can still get to you."
She pushed herself closer as he tried to pull away.
"It doesn't matter" she said looking up at him.
He looked down at her, confusion in his eyes. "How can it not matter? Angelus is still here, he's inside me…."
"He's always been inside you, Angel" she shot before he could finish, "From the day we met till now. I accepted that the moment I learned about the curse. I loved you anyways…and always will."
So why had today's argument bothered her?
Because he'd said he'd 'enjoyed it'... 'he missed it'. Enjoyed and missed being evil, being able to killed without a conscious.
He'd acted similar under the Hex, the spell enhancing his darker urges, strengthening his demon's influence and relaxing his control...but this was different. Angel wasn't spelled. This was in his head, his own thoughts and feeling and urges.
Buffy was suddenly furious. 'What the hell is going on in his head? What is he trying to prove by leaving his ring here? Does he want to leave me but isn't willing to make the choice himself?'
'Whatever it is, I need to find him and smack some sense back into his thick skull.'
She'd suddenly had enough of wondering and waiting, it was time to stop wallowing and do something to fix this.
Grabbing her phone, Buffy dialed Willow's cell.
When you young Wicca answered, "Hi Willow, can you do a locator spell for me?" It was a lot faster using magic than trying to go the tradition path of...looking.
"Oh, sure Buffy. Who are we searching for?" Willow asked, getting up and opening the rightmost cabinet in her office, where she kept all the location based spell ingredients, like for locator spells and teleportation.
"Not to sound like a repeat offender, and I'll explain why later, but I need to know where Angel is." Buffy asked, hating that she recently seemed to use her friend for finding her family more often than just having a conversation.
'Reminder to self, have to schedule a girls night out really soon.'
"Oh." Willow made a confused sound. "So you guys are fighting. I'd hoped that wasn't the case, but well with that scowl I should have known."
Buffy blinked on the other end of the line, "What?"
"Buffy, I don't need a spell to tell you where Angle is." The red headed witch said as she closed her cabinet.
"And why do you know where my husband is and I don't?" Buffy demanded into the phone, not accusingly but annoyed. 'Did he ask Willow for some hocus pocus?'
Sitting back down in her office chair, "Sorry, I thought you knew, but he's here in the office, been all day. I thought it was odd he came in since you guys requested it off, but I didn't want to ask. He didn't seem like he was in the greatest mood."
"No, I don't suspect he is." Buffy agreed, relieved he'd only gone as far as work and not actually taken off someplace, "Is here still there?"
"Hold on." Willow put the corded phone down and jogged to her door, peaking out, she could see Angel's door, it was closed but the lights were on. Hurrying back over to the phone, "His door is shut but the lights are on."
Buffy smiled, "Great, thank you Willow."
"We going to talk after?" The Wicca asked, hungry for gossip.
"Oh I'm sure we will." Buffy grinned, thanking her friend and hang up.
'Three days my ass.' Buffy thought, heading for the door.
...
Angel was bent over his desk, hands idly doodling as his mind shuffled over yesterday's talk with Buffy. 'Did I f*ck up? Or did I make the right choice?' He wasn't sure. All he knew was that he kept trying to rub and spin his ring and the absence was driving him nuts.
He'd walked the streets for a few hours, burning off his anger as he patrolled.
What had really freaked him out was to discover he hadn't been stalking demons, but a woman.
From the shadows, he'd watch her. Young, blonde, big brown eyes.
Before he knew what he was doing, he was right behind her.
His hand flew over her mouth as she'd felt his presence and turned, stifling her scream. "Shh, don't make a scene."
At first, she'd been anything but calm and collected, but he'd talked her into being quiet, removing his hand and convincing her to let him walk with her.
For several blocks he'd been warring with himself over sinking his teeth into her neck. The veins looked so inviting, so full of warmth and life.
"Well, this is my stop." She'd told him, jolting him from his dark thoughts as they'd arrived at the stairway that led up to her apartment. Those doe-eyes had traced him over approvingly as she asked, "Do you want to come in?"
'Yes.' He thought for a moment, a smile drawing across his lips, "Those are dangerous words Miss, you should never ask someone you don't know into your home. You have no idea what you could be inviting."
Her smile faltered, "Oh, umm..."
"And try not walking alone after dark, these streets aren't safe. Not everyone you meet will leave you intact after they walk you home."
Before she could ask what he was talking about, he slid out of the light over the stairs and melted back into the shadows.
With a chill running down her spine, the young woman hurried inside and shut the door, feeling like she should take a cab next time instead of walking home.
Angel had walked straight home after that, feeling the temptation was too strong to remain on the streets.
When he'd entered the house, it was dark and too quiet.
Part of him had hoped Buffy would be up waiting for him, the majority was glad she'd been in bed already.
Soundlessly he'd climbed the stairs, peered into the empty bedrooms of the kids.
Lastly, he'd slipped into his and Buffy's bedroom, his hungry eyes falling over her restless form as she tossed and turned.
He'd wanted to slip in beside her, reclaim what was his.
It hadn't been that woman he'd wanted to sink his fangs in, it was Buffy's neck the demon was craving.
His heart skipped a beat as his name came from his wife's lips, but he could see she wasn't awake, only talking in her sleep.
"Shh. I'm here, sleep Buffy." He whispered against her cheek, pulling the covers up before kissing her forehead.
She'd settled then and he wanted nothing more than to stay, but it wasn't his choice to make.
Retreating to the relative safety of the living room, he'd layed down on the couch, his thoughts keeping him awake.
The ring has taunted him that morning, as he forced down his bowl of cereal, barely tasting the chocolate as his eyes were drawn to the little silver circle on the counter. Part of him almost grabbed it and put it back on right then and there.
Knowing he couldn't stay here, he'd taken one last longing look up the stairs before headed out to the garage. Needing to stay close, he'd back the car out of the garage and headed to Angel Investigations.
...
'What if she doesn't give it back?' Drifted though his head as he sat in his office chair, 'Can I really accept the consequences?' He'd been worried when she'd asked about not returning it, then borderline terrified when she'd requested a third option.
'Maybe I should just go home. Plead insanity?' Popped in before he chased it away. 'No, this is Buffy's choice, not mine. She has to except me like I am...'
Rising, he grabbed the bottle of Jameson he'd been mulling over all morning off the side table by the window and poured another dose of pain killer into his favorite coffee mug, 'So much for not turning to alcohol when I'm stressed. Really batting 100% today.'
And it certainly wasn't 5 o'clock yet.
He trudged back over to his desk and collapsed into his chair, his eyes scanning over his handiwork.
The little doodles he'd been absently sketching all has one thing in common, they were all Buffy.
Growling in anger, he swiped all but his mug off the table and onto the floor. The liquid he quickly knocked back, banging the mug down on the desk, but careful to not break it.
It was the mug Buffy gave him for their second anniversary, containing pictures of his children on a clover covered background, the words 'Our daddy is Irish' printed on the side.
"Hard at work I see."
Startled by the voice, Angel's head snapped up to see Buffy standing on the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest, her posture screaming 'furious on a slayable level'.
Unsure if this was a good intrusion (She's giving me my ring) or a bad one (I'm being staked), he rose to his feet, "Wow, three days already?"
The blonde dropped her arms, turned and shut the door behind her, moving deeper into the office, "Nope, but you should know me and time-based ultimatums aren't usually mixable."
She walked closer to him before pausing about ten feet away, "In fact, I really dislike them."
"So you chose to just give my ring back and settle this one on one?" Angel asked, looking her over and expecting her to toss the ring back any second now.
"No." Buffy responded, watching his eyes. "I'm not giving it back."
'And there, the slight twitch in his left eye. Gotch ya.'
His face remained unchanged, as he asked, "Are you sure about that?"
"Oh I'm positive." Buffy replied almost immediately, "So how are we going to do this? 50-50 custody? If we both still work here it will make tradeoffs easy, plus we can still babysit while the other is holding training sessions."
Angel's eyes narrow, "You can't be serious?"
Buffy stopped, turned her head like she was thinking, "You know, you're completely right. What am I saying! I obviously get full custody, but don't worry, you can have every other weekend and some minor holidays."
"You're bluffing." He said, unwilling to believe for a second this was it, that she would actually divorce him.
"Oh, what about child support? This might be difficult since we both work together, but since we'll obviously be getting a divorce, I'll likely end up with the house and your share of the business... I might let you keep the GTX, depends on resale value."
"This is bullshit." Angel growled out, getting really afraid she wasn't kidding.
Buffy turned to glare at him, anger filling her face, "This is bullshit? Oh no, this Angel is not bullshit." She stormed over to him, getting right up in his face, "Bullshit is having your husband tell you he cheated on you on a rescue mission. Bullshit is then having him say he enjoyed sucking on the girl. Bullshit is watching the love of your life pull off his wedding ring and walk out the front door. Bullshit is having your whole future dropped in your shoulders out of the blue without the slightest warning. The Bullshit king is calling bullshit when the choice that's chosen isn't the one you predetermined."
Angel swallowed hard, his jaw clenched tight enough his teeth were creaking.
Buffy took a step back, "Maybe that's the point you were trying to make Angel, that I've had so much bullshit in my life that it's time to cut off the head of the bull? Well my bull-headed idiot, I'm choosing option number 2."
"Dear god what have I done?'
Angel stared straight ahead a moment, before blinking rapidly, his eyes filling with liquid. "Okay." He said, his voice shaking, "If that's how you want it."
'It's her choice after all...'
Buffy crossed her arms over her chest again, "No Angel. This isn't how I want it. This is how you want it. I didn't remove your ring. I didn't ask you to. You did it on your own. You backed me into a corner and you gave me options that you chose. Now you need to deal with those choices."
Angel's heart stopped.
At least it felt like it.
'Yes, I f*cked up.' He answerd is earlier question. 'Royally f*cked up...'
In a fog, he fell back, heavily down into his desk chair, his chest aching as he realized she wasn't bluffing. She was angry, and only he was to blame for it. What could he do, this was his own hammer and nails he was being crucified with.
"What wrong Angel?" Buffy asked with a cold tone, "You don't look well."
She walked over towards his chair, his pale face turning up to her, "Is this not what you wanted? Isn't this not one of the options you gave me to pick from? Perhaps I should have chosen a different one? Okay, would you rather I change my mind and pick again."
He was being baited, but he didn't care. "Yes, I'd prefer you chose another option."
His hopes flared, perhaps this wasn't over yet.
She watched him a moment, not enjoying this at all but determined to see it though, "Okay. Get up."
Blinking at her with dark pain filled eyes, he rose. 'Can we go home now?' He asked himself.
Once he was on his feet, she turned and strut over to the wall of weapons behind his desk, removing a sword from the hanger.
"What are you doing?" He asked, watching her wearily. 'She can't be serious.'
Her bright hazel-green eyes turned towards him innocently as she run and thumb along the blade to test the edge, which was perfectly sharpened. "You asked me to chose again, so I'm going with option number three." She swung the blade to test its balance. "Okay, you'd said a stake, but a sword is just different means to the same end."
He blinked at her, "You won't." 'She's not going to actually kill me!'
She met his eyes, "It really is the best option. I can avoid a messy divorce, won't have to share my kids, no awkward meetings or 'how are you' questions between us. You know I'm the jealous type and frankly, I'm not sure I can handle you heading back into the dating pool once we're split. Killing you seems the most humane method, and based on your track record and how dangerous this job is, pretty sure I can cover up my involvement in your death pretty easily. It's kind of a win-win. I'm sure you'll find that peace you've always been searching for."
She hefted the sword over her shoulder, "So if you don't mind, I'll like to get this over and done with."
Buffy charged at him.
'She's bluffing.' Angel thought wildly before having to duck the swinging blade, 'Okay, maybe she's not.'
Now knowing he had to fight or be beheaded, Angel threw himself out of her path, suddenly struck with the fact he couldn't actually put on the offence. He had no intention of hitting her anyways, but that was doubled when she was currently pregnant with his child.
'Shit, I'm being slayed by raging hormones, aren't I?'
"You have pretty unfair advantage here." He growled, dodging another blow, this one pretty darn close.
She sent him a bright smile, "I usually do, that's why I win."
Despite the circumstances, he snorted, "And here I though you won because you were a better fighter than me."
"That too." She agreed, catching him off guard on his left and slicing open his shirt. "See."
Growling, his face shifted as he ducked and dodged the next few blows, his speed keeping him a step ahead of her. It took a few moments, but then he saw his opening and took it.
Buffy yelped as her feet were knocked out from under her and the sword went sprawling to the side as Angel's arm slipped around her neck, drawing her tightly up against his chest as he pinned her arms down. "Why didn't you choose the first option?" Angel asked into her ear, keeping her held firmly but not painfully. "Why did you turn your back on me?"
Pressed against his chest, Buffy baited her time as she answered him, "Who turned their back on who Angel? You're the one who walked out, not me. Not sure if you noticed, but I'm still wearing my ring."
She felt when he looked towards her hand, that's when she brought her elbow down hard and got him in the solar plexus. As the blow knocked his breath out of him, she spun and caught him in the face, drawing blood as his lip tore over his fangs.
In 3 seconds flat, he was on the ground.
As she stood there looking down at him, she shook her head, "I'm not the one who needs to make a choice." She headed for the door as he struggled back to his feet.
"Buffy, don't go." Angel called out, eyes wide in alarm as the demon faded from his face.
"I didn't go, you did." The slayer fired at him. "All these years Angel, I chose you. Last night, you chose to walk away."
"I didn't mean for it to be like this." He said quietly, almost too low for her to hear.
"I'm going home." The petite blonde said as she reached the door, and looked back a final time, "Make your choice Angel."
She disappeared, slamming the door behind her, and Angel was left laying shocked and puzzled on the floor.
Bowing his head, he rested it on the carpet for a few long minutes as he reran though everything she'd said.
There was a knock in his door, 'Buffy!' He thought, with hope, rising.
Instead of long blonde hair, the woman entering had short red. Willow. She stood by the door, watching him with understanding green eyes.
Pulling himself to his feet, he sighed, not bothering to hide the fact he'd been on the floor.
"Still fight with Buffy, huh?" Willow asked, not really needing to ask, she'd heard the bangs and yells from her office across the hall. She wanted to see how he responded, if he got angry or growly she knew to bail, fast.
He didn't growl, just looked really depressed. "Yeah." He replied tonelessly, moping back to his desk chair before falling into it.
He seemed safe, so Willow entered, moving closer. "I figured, she called earlier to have me locate you, sounded worried too. Guess you guys didn't kiss and make-up yet." The Wicca prodded, needing to know why he was still here and not trying to fix whatever got them fighting to begin with. She'd thought they'd been fine during the party, but now she was realizing there had been underlying tension. Willow was always shocked how fast these two could explode on each other. The making up usually happened with the same speed.
"Not sure if that will ever happen." Angel thought aloud, dabbing his already ruined shirt on his split lip. "She hates me at the moment, maybe forever."
"No, she really doesn't." Willow assured, "Buffy wouldn't have come over here and kicked your ass if she did."
Angel glanced up at her, then back at the coffee mug on his desk. Taking the cup into his hands, he traced Katie and Liam's smiling faces with his thumb. He really didn't want to lose them...or their mother.
Willow stood by his desk, watching at he looked longingly at the mug. "I was in the hall when she stormed out, I heard the end of the conversation. Pretty sure she is expecting you home to make your choice, whatever that means."
Thinking over what Buffy had said. Yes, she called him a dumbass without saying the word, thrown his 'choices' back at him and challenged him to do something about it. 'Yeah, I need to go home, fix this mess.'
He looked up at the witch then, "You're right, I need to dig myself out of his hole before she pours cement down on me."
He stood and headed for the door, but Willow called out to him. "Angel, just a thought here, but before you going running back..." She looked him over and suggested, "Clean up, shave, change...maybe bring her a peace offering?"
He looked down, his shirt was torn, bloodied from his lip. "I could do that." He thought a moment, "Is this a flowers and chocolates appropriate moment?"
The Wicca sent his an encouraging smile, "As a member of the female race, I can assure you, flowers and chocolate are always appropriate for any moment."
"Right." He gave her the best smile to could manage under the circumstances, "Thank You."
"For what?" The redhead asked, stepped forwards and giving him a brief hug.
"For a kick in the right direction." When he stepped back, he headed for his bathroom instead of the door, following her suggestion to clean up first before stopping at the store for a peace offering.
'I know my girl's not going to make this easy on me, but it's my own damn fault.' Angel said to himself as he undressed and glanced as his naked left ring finger. 'I'm getting my ring back...and my wife.' It was a statement, not a question as he ducked under the hot spray of the shower.
Willow smiled to herself as she headed back to her office to grab her coat, glad she could help her friends. However, she had something on her chest she needed to open up about, and stop hiding here in the office. It was finally time for her to have a much needed talk with Oz.
...
Buffy was pacing.
'He should have been here by now.' Her worried mind said over and over.
She'd been pretending to be casually hanging around in the living room, waiting for him, but it had been little over an hour since she arrived back and he hadn't immediately followed.
'What if he doesn't come back?' Her heart squeezed, 'What if something happened to him? What if I was too hard on him and he didn't realize I wanted him back here? I shouldn't have thrown his choices back at him, I hadn't intended to, but me made me so mad...I had to get him to see how idiotic he was being...'
Pacing again, Buffy stormed over to the phone and dialed the Med-Ward, Cassidy picking up after several rings. "Cass, I need to talk to you."
"What's up Buffy? I assure you Angel isn't down here...for once." The redheaded medic spoke, knocking on her wooden desk with her fist just in case as she leaned back in her office chair. Everything on the medical front had been fairly quiet since the chicken pox incident, she really hoped from the strained tone of Buffy's voice she wasn't going to be seeing her most stubborn patient again this soon. Other than being tense, Angel had seemed fine at the party yesterday.
"I know." Buffy sighed, pacing with the cordless phone pressed to her ear, "Angel's not hurt, at least not that much..." She remembered the split lip and felt guilty. "Okay, so there also may be some emotional pain..."
"What are you eluding to Buffy? What happened?" The slayer would not be calling her up on a weekend and just asking to chat about vague subjects, it just didn't happen.
Buffy unloaded, she couldn't stop herself. Nothing was held back. It took at least half an hour before she finally said, "I know you're not really a shrink, but do you have any suggestions on what's gotten into him? And maybe how badly I screwed up by freaking on him?"
The medic sat back in her chair, a little flooded, "Um, well... my first response is going to the standard, I have not spoken to Angel directly or have observed this unusual behavior myself, so I can't give you a 100% reliable diagnosis."
"I know Cass, just give me a direction, any straw to grasp. This isn't Angel, he doesn't act like this, not without a cause." Buffy pleaded, switching ears as her left one was numb by now.
Cassidy stood and paced, her phone was a speaker mode, "Okay, so my first guess is he'd got PTSD."
"The what?" The blond asked, trying to remember why that sounded familiar and if she should start feeling terrible now or give it a few minutes.
"Post Traumatic Stress Disorder." Cassidy explained, "Remember when Stacy and Amanda died, Angel went a little over the deep end about it and you guys had your uh...personal issues because of it." She wasn't about to say rape and beating, "Anyways, you also remember his issues with the whole Hellmouth incident and resulting blindness."
'He'd acted out of character, yeah, but he was dealing with a lot.' Buffy thought, "What do those have to do with this?"
"Nothing directly." The medic answered, "Just Angel's been having a lot of traumatizing experiences, he might be having issues handling the compounding stress."
"You think drinking from that girl was traumatic for him?" Buffy asked, sounding unsure of that, "From how he talked, he sounded like the opposite. You don't find 'Enjoy and Traumatize' side by side in a thesaurus."
The medic took a breath, "I understand your doubts, but think about this; Angel used to do this stuff for a living, he killed for food. It's what he did, like you slaying, it's wired into your blood, part of you."
"I'm not following Cass." Buffy sighed, sitting on the couch and trying to figure out what the medic was saying.
Cassidy continued, "Murder was routine for him, something he was comfortable with. I guess you could call it a safe haven. When he gained a soul, it became the opposite for him. He had both those memories is his head, one side of him remembering killing as a pleasant reminder and the other seeing it as a punishment."
"So you think his mind, what, swapped on him?" Buffy asked, the gears in her head spinning, "You think he's feeling the old thrills of the kill instead of feeling remorse?"
"Something like that. You ever heard of dopamine?" Cass was busy pulling up some files on her computer, reading the slayer some texts.
"Listen to this, Researchers found the neurotransmitter dopamine activates the reward system in the brain, which is associated with one's positive emotions; like cheerfulness and desire. On the downside, this reward system could also be associated with negatives, like addictions, in which people develop uncontrollable urges to repeatedly engage in pleasurable but harmful behaviors, examples such as drug problems and oh, say, compulsive murder. For Angel, killing was something that used to release dopamine into his brain. It was the anticipation and follow though of the kill that flooded his system with a rewarding feeling, it the same kind of feeling you get after the build up then actuality of satisfying sex."
Buffy cringed, "Great, thanks, I really needed to picture that feeling associated with murder."
The medic ignored her as she continued, "Three other major players in the brain are oxytocin, serotonin and endorphins. Oxytocin is known as the 'love or cuddle hormone, you can guess what increases that. Serotonin, is a mood stabilizer, too little is a leading cause of depression. Endorphins work as the body's natural morphine, also linking to the reward system, increasing pleasure feeling though food, drink and sex."
"And you think some sort of imbalance is causing Angel to revert to psycho mode?" Buffy asked.
"Maybe. It seems plausible to me that Angel is remembering the 'emotional high' he used to get when he'd do his evil thing. This recent run-in with his past and being forced to step back into his old shelf's shoes could have triggered his brain into releasing the same stimulation as from his murder addiction."
"But why? He didn't kill her, she's fine." Buffy pointed out.
Cass answered immediately, "Because he went through all the steps. Patrolling, searching, being out on the mission to find the demon abducting woman, that was his stalking faze. Gregory turned out to be the killer, but the woman was the one he had to manipulate into doing as he'd asked, surrendering her control to him, gaining her trust, then biting her, and taking her blood. I know he was just trying to buy time for the team to arrive, but it would be like a former junkie working as a nurse, being around the needles and the drugs...like a former alcoholic having a drink in a bar, even if it was water...a former gambler watching a game of cards in a casino...It triggers the impulse, the reminder, the dopamine rush. He has a conscious, he doesn't want to kill now, be he used to, he remembers liking it. I think that is what is happening, he's confusing his current emotions with his past self."
"So...he leaves his ring as what? A cry for help?" Buffy asks, looking deeper into her husband's actions.
"Very possible." Cassidy agreed, "He knows you'll act as his safety net."
"Cass." Buffy suddenly remembered something she figured was important, "He staked Gregory."
"And?" The doctor asked, not immediately understanding.
The blonde slayer explained, "He sired Gregory. For a vampire, that's like the emotional equivalent to killing your offspring."
"I concur that sounds like the better fit for the PTSD theory." Cassidy was scribbling some notes down, she wanted to have this logged in Angel file for future reference if needed.
"So what do I do? How do I help him?" This was a real reason she'd called the medic, she needed to know what steps to take to fix this. 'I guess attacking him wasn't the brightest idea...'
"Most medications prescribed are anti-depressants or ADHD meds, those won't help Angel, and the only other accepted treatment types are forms of therapy."
"Yeah, and we know therapy is right up Angel's alley." Buffy sighed, thinking about it. "I'll talk to him again, this time without the anger and slay-off, try to open his eyes to the medical aspects. He's a believer in facts and hard evidence, if I discuss what we just said, he'll be inclined to believe it."
"Okay, well let me know how this turns out, call if you need any help." The medic offered anything she could do, like if Buffy needed a traq gun or if Angel needed a prescription.
"Thank you Cassidy, I'll try talking to him first, judge his response. If I need something after that, you'll be my first call." The slayer thanked the medic and hung up.
After Buffy had what she needed, she printed a few articles off the internet on their home printer, stapling them together. 'Okay, now I just need to know where the hell I scared Angel off to...' Calling Willow again wasn't a favorable option, so after hearing from the front desk at AI that Angel had left long long after her, she went about planning her search using the old fashioned looking' method.
A knock at the door distracted her from her map of LA. Grumbling, she opened it and demanded "What?" to whatever poor soul was interrupting her right now.
"Guess I deserve that." Her husband replied on their front porch, holding up a heart shaped box of chocolates and a dozen red roses in defense. "Will these get me in the door for a at least a minute?"
She'd almost slammed the door on him, not because she didn't want him here, but because she certainly hadn't expected him to standing there, never mind knocking. There had been this whole battle plan being drawn up in her head, this hadn't been expected.
'That's why he's late, he went shopping.'
She went with it, grabbing the chocolates out of his hand, "Fine, you have as long as it takes for me to finish these." Turning around and opening the door wider to let him pass, she hid her brief smile about the gifts and the sigh of relief he'd turned up, apologetic even.
He walked in, still wielding the flowers like a shield.
He seemed to be expecting her to be angry still, so she kept up the front, hoping her butt kicking had knocked the sense back into him.
"You cleaned up." She noticed, tearing the plastic wrap off the box in her hands.
"Yeah, I wanted to...okay, I don't know why really, it just seemed better to talk without my clothing practically falling off." His voice was steady, but lacked the accusing tone she'd expected.
Buffy raised an eyebrow as she opened the box, "Time starts now." She grabbed a chocolate out of the plastic sleeve and popped it into her mouth. 'Oh, he best talk fast, these are yummy.'
With a slight panic in his eyes, he fumbled for an opening. "I made a mistake. I should never have walked out and I didn't mean for it be a threat to our marriage. I love you, I don't want to divorce you, I just..." He stopped, remembering why he got himself into this mess to begin with. "Following the event of the last patrol, I realized there is a part of me that is...unsettled."
"Give it to me straight Angel, this is the only time frame I'll be listening, so get it on the table while you can." Buffy warned, needing to know everything going down in that thick head, popping another chocolate into her mouth as she wanted to let him know the clock was ticking and he needed to just say it. Also the chocolate were really good, he didn't get the cheap ones.
He shifted, dropped the flowers on the coffee table, stuck his hands in his pockets and began to pace between the coffee table and to the doorway to the kitchen. "I realized, I've lost the ability to wield my own power, and I'm not talking the baseline vampire crap. My mouth was my weapon; I could charm myself into the homes of hermits, I could sweet talk my way into the bed of the most devout virgins, I had a charisma that brought victims to me like sheep to a slaughterhouse."
He shifted his stance, his eyes still facing forward but he was seeing nothing beyond his own mind, "I built my unlife using these skills. I spent decades watching human emotions, reading body language and listening and smelling how people reacted to stresses. I could use that to dig into people's minds, find their weaknesses, expose their insecurities...then use their own feeling against them." He sighed, "It was an art I lost somewhere along the way."
He stopped pacing, "Now, I...I feel like I'm not even half the demon I used to be."
Buffy fought the urge to roll her eyes at how ridiculous he sounded to her right now. Instead she lashed out at him with her observation, "That isn't a lost art, that's called stalking and manipulation. By the way, you still have that ability, you do that to me pretty much all the time. You're always smelling me and using your senses to read me, the kids and just about everyone else around you. The only difference between using it then VS now is not being crass enough to let people know when you smell sex on them or some other creepy personal info that isn't your business to know. Truth be told, you're right about not even half the demon you used to be."
He'd seemed to be considering what she'd said about his current senses use, but then the barb on the end struck and Angel's eyes flashed like he been slapped.
She took a step closer, already feeling the demon energy boiling just under his skin, "Want to know why you're not even half the demon you used to be?" Repeating it would grind it in more, she was looking for anger here, and she was going to get it. She needed to draw out the pain and rage, she needed him to burn it off so she could get though to him.
He took a step forward to match hers, seeing the bait for what it was and diving right for it, "Why?"
She smirked, "Because, you're not even half the demon you used to be."
He blinked as her, angry and not understanding for the moment why she was being so cruel.
She continued, "That was literal, because well, you're not a demon anymore. Oh sure, you have the essence of the demon, you have the physical prowess, stamina and regenerative skills... but if you strip all that away...you're just a man Angel. Human. Mortal."
He looked outraged, then seemed to chew that over. It seemed he accepted the taste after a few moments.
She could almost hear the click as his brain worked, his eyes drawing up as he thought.
"Of course you'll never relive your glory days as a mass murdering maniac, because you're just not that evil anymore. You're alive, you're ensouled, and you're usually a good man. You have your moments of being a thick-headed idiot and don't always make the right calls, like what brought us to this conversation for instance, but what you've lost in creepy sociopathic skills, you've gained in other fields. You're great with kids, you have friends and an active social life, you train slayers, saves lives. Of all the things you could have been as evil Angelus, a hero was never one of them. Nor did you have an actual life, or the ability to live a life, as a man."
He deflated a bit, "I know, I just...it's different. Biting that woman, it reminded me how good I used to feel. About how much I enjoyed being what I was. I...I miss that feeling."
Buffy dropped the chocolate box on the coffee table, no longer having an appetite for them, and moved a few steps closer to him. Time to fire up with what Cass had given her for ammo. "Of course you miss it, a former heroin addict misses the rush of shooting up, alcoholics miss beer, gamblers miss winning. Murder was an addiction for you, your dopamine high. It was food, what gave you a fix, a happy. When you were dead, it was as close as you could get to feeling alive."
She turned and grabbed some papers off the end table and tossed the stapled packet to him. The info she'd talked to Cass about, addiction, PTSD, brain chemicals, even a packet on grieving.
He caught them, his eyes scanning the words before looking up at her again.
"You're a not-so-secret bookworm, but somehow I don't think Scientific America was around pre-electricity. Go on, do your little speed read thing, I'll wait." Buffy told him, leaning back against the armchair.
He clenched his jaw before tearing his gaze from her and back to the printouts, they looked like copies from medical journals. 'She either got Cass involved or spent some quality time on the internet, or both.' He thought impressed as he read, learning more and more about this thing called dopamine and how it plays a role in addiction and acts as the brain's reward system. A few other article about things that were hitting pretty close to home.
As he read, he could clearly see how this, or something very similar, could stimulate the pleasure responses in a vampire's brain. It made sense to him, lacking the ability to feel the emotions that a soul instills, that demons had to get their chemical induced happiness from somewhere. The only real difference between a human and demon mind was a conscious.
"So you think I'm just remembering a chemical reaction in my head that happened when I tormented people, because it was...how I used to get a happy?" He asked, looking unsure at her.
"Yeah, I do." Buffy said as she leaned back, "I mean really Angel, what are we doing here right now? Are you trying to tell me you're ready to become a serial sadist again? Are you planning to resume the stalk and bite or the torture and kill routine? If we're fighting because you want your old life back, then you know where the door is."
If he was truly planning to become evil again, he would be crossing a line even she wouldn't be able to pull him back from. He had a soul now, if he chose evil...she couldn't allow him in her life.
"No." He said quickly, was it too quickly.
Buffy pushed him, needing him to keep talking, "No what? Use your big boy words."
"No, I don't want that life again." He looked down at the papers in his hands before tossing them on the table. He looked at her again before moving to an armchair and dropping down into it. So much emotional strain was taking a toll on him, he was exhausted.
He licked his lips, his mouth feeling dry as he kept his focus on the spray of articles, "I'm not addicted to murder...not anymore."
"How do you know?" It was a reasonable question, he had been yakking on about enjoying the lifestyle not too long ago.
He thought for a moment before answering, "I stalked a woman last night. I hunted her, caught her, convinced her to let me walk her home. She then invited me inside."
Buffy had gone very still at that. "And?"
He looked up at her from his chair, seeing the hurt and fear in her eyes. "I told her not to invite strangers in or walk alone after dark."
"Is that all?" She asked, needing to know everything.
Looking away, he nodded, "I could have taken her, but I realized she wasn't what I wanted."
"That's when you came home." It wasn't a question, he had it written all over his face.
"Yeah. What I was craving wasn't out on the street. I do have an addiction, and it's here."
He was tense, Buffy could not only see it, she could feel it. "What are you addicted to?"
"I think you know the answer to that." He replied, sitting back, his eyes rising to meet hers. His expression was unreadable.
He was worried she would react badly to what he knew in his heart that he wanted.
"Enlighten me." She had an idea what he was going to say, but she wanted it said.
He seemed reluctant to speak before he just let it out, "You Buffy, I'm addicted to you."
It was exactly what she'd expected, it wasn't the first time he'd said it. He'd been a junkie of her love for years now.
Now came the real reason they were fighting, "Did you really enjoy sinking your fangs into another woman?"
He looked down, remembering the experience in vivid detail, trying to see if from only his perspective now, not how he used to see taking blood in the past. The feelings were there, but...they weren't. He did enjoy sinking his fang in, taking the sweet blood into him, but not from Gabrielle, or anyone else not currently present. "No."
"Why not? Isn't the biting thing a turn on for you? Didn't it give you a dopamine rush? Did you not tell me earlier you did enjoy it?"
"Yes. I...I do enjoy it, it is a turn on. There is a rush when I sink my fangs in, when I taste blood. I think that's what the problem was, I got mixed up with my feelings. It was like the past and present were jumbled together. I remembered enjoying biting random people, I told myself I did with her." He looked down at his hands, then up at Buffy, "The other day, when I bit her, it was uncomfortable and my demon was furious at me." He said more confidently. "It felt wrong because...it wasn't you." He watched her eyes, gauging her reaction, "It's not always, but when I get the impulse to bite, I only want to share it with you, because it's only your blood that satisfies the urge."
He broke eye contact as she watched him warily, taking in everything he was saying, "I don't want anyone else in my mouth."
Despite the fuzzy feeling she got knowing only she could give him a fangtastic happy, she asked, "And if by chance I decide I don't want to be on the receiving end of a double penetrating kiss?"
He swallowed, feeling a little rejected, "Then my fangs remain in my mouth until you do."
"Good answer." She told him before moving to the last question, "Okay, so lets recap. We've established you're not planning to revert to Mr. Stalk-and-pain, you're 'enjoyed it' campaign is based on reading stale data, and you're not into necking with anyone who's not me. So how about we talk about Gregory?"
He paled slightly. "We don't have to, he's dead."
"By your hands, twice now." Buffy reiterated, needed to get him to work though this too.
He looked down, his eyes watery. "Yes."
She sat beside him, her hand on his shoulder. "You said it yourself, as a demon you had no free will, you killed because it was what vampires do. If you hadn't stopped Gregory, more innocent woman would have died, babies too. You had no choice, he wouldn't have stopped, you had to set him free."
"I know." He whispered.
"But it still hurts." She supplied for him.
He nodded, "Yeah. It cuts deeper, every time."
She knew he meant about Drusilla, he'd had to kill her a few years ago, when she'd tried to turn him. He'd taken it hard, but it had been slightly easier to justify it to himself because she's targeted the kids. When he'd gone back to Ireland, he'd been forced to stake the very first vampire he'd ever sired, his best friend at the time, Casey O'Mally. It had been Kate Lockey that killed another of his sired, Penn, but he'd felt the painful severing of that bond even then too.
They sat quietly on the couch for a while, her gently rubbing his back as Angel worked though his grief.
She'd been wondering if he'd fallen asleep leaning with his elbows on his knees and hands holding his face when he spoke determinedly, "I want my ring back."
She watched him, her face remaining neutral but she couldn't hide from him her increased heart rate, "Finally, a good idea. You know where it is."
He took that as permission and quickly stood and strode into the kitchen, bee-lining for the counter, looking down at the little silver circle that had caused him so much trouble of the last few hours, 'Never should have taken it off.' He scolded himself.
As he reached for it, Buffy's voice from the doorway stopped him, "Before you put that back on, you damn well better understand that doesn't come off again for any reason short of losing that finger."
He hadn't realized what he'd done to her, or himself, by taking it off. It wasn't until the comforting weight was gone that he truly understood how badly he'd f*cked up by removing it. The symbolism he put her though had been almost the same as the day she'd first rejected his bite, he'd felt betrayed by her rejection and this idiotic stunt had been a repeat in reverse. 'Maybe I do have PTSD...'
His dark, hopeful gaze met her eyes. He was beyond relieved she was going to forgive his temporary insanity and let him take it back. "I know."
She continued, "And you better understand what it is you're committing to. That isn't just some ring Angel, that's a promise you're making to me. That's telling me you're in this for life, and you're willing to take everything that comes in the Buffy/Angel package, the good, the bad and the apocalyptic."
"I do." He said, purposely like a vow as he picked up the ring. Instead of sliding it on, he hesitated, holding it in his hand. He felt just putting it on didn't have enough meaning.
She looked up confused as he held out his right hand to her, "Angel, what...?" 'Why didn't he put it on?'
He starting speaking quietly, words she hadn't heard since standing with him before the minister on their wedding day "I begin my life with you today knowing that we have developed a trust and commitment that is strong enough to last through good times and bad..."
She smiled in relief as she took the offered ring, a pesky tear in her eye. While slipping it slowly back into place, he finished. "With this ring, I offer you my hand, my heart, and my soul as I know they will be safe with you."
Once in place, he squeezed his fist, locking the ring in place.
Buffy took the hand and brought it to her lips, kissing the silver circle that marked him as hers.
"Are...are we good?" He asked, reaching to touch her cheek.
The frost melted, she sent him a warm smile, "Yes, we're good."
After a moment, "Are you?" She asked, watching him carefully.
He smiled, the first real smile in days, "Yeah, I'm good now."
With relief for them both, Buffy stepped into his arms, resting her head on his chest as he hugged her tight, kissing the crown of her head.
After a few calming moments, "So what have we all learned from this?" She asked, her face pressed against his shoulder. Prodding him was working, she was going to keep at it. Like a good bread dough recipe, you have to kneed the dough well, then let it rise. Once risen, beat it back down so it can rise again.
He smiled into her hair, pressing another kiss into her crown as he pulled her closer, "I'm still an idiot?"
She smiled into his skin, "Oh yeah, I knew that from day one, but it was in the fine print, so I can't complain, and?"
"And...you're a better fighter?"
"Well that was a given, I always could kick your ass, what else?"
He grinned, "I'm have an addition I have no desire to kick."
She smiled against him, "I can live with that...as long as that addition remains me and only me."
"No problem there."
"Anything else?" She probed, still needed to barb him just a little, make sure everything was on the table.
Angel's voice was tickling her ear, "Despite my shortcoming, my wife is really amazing to keep putting up with me."
"She is, isn't she." Buffy teased, her heart swelling again as she pulled him down him for a kiss.
"Mmm, the best." The agreed into her mouth.
When the little tongue war ended, he asked sheepishly, "You weren't really going to slice me open today, were you?"
Her eyes danced with mirth, "No, as long as you kept ducking."
He pulled back a little, "And if I didn't duck fast enough?"
She shrugged, "You didn't once, so I sliced your shirt instead of your skin."
He shook his head, "You did that on purpose?"
She met his semi-outage tone, "Of course I did, we already established I'm the better fighter, and you know I wouldn't really ever hurt you. I already told you, way too much invested in Angel stocks..."
Deadpanning, "But you'll slice my close off."
With a raise eyebrow she nodded, "Why not? You routinely tear off mine in the bedroom, what's the difference?"
He thought about that a moment, "Okay, I do that, but I don't use sharpened blades."
"Liar, yours are just wired in via the demon." She curled her fingers like claws and made a biting motion.
His happy seemed to vanish all of a sudden, his eyes moved off hers.
"Hey, what's up?" Buffy asked, a worry line creeping between her brows as she cupped his cheek. "Why the sudden mope attack?" 'Okay, we missed something. What else is going on in this thick head of his.'
His eyes seemed clouded a moment, then they slid down her neck to his mark, "Has this been bothering you at all?"
'Oh, yup, still need to fix the biting/cheating thing.'
She backed out of his arms, but took his hand, directing them back into the living room to sit on the couch.
When he was seated, she curled up against him, "Yeah, been throbbing for a few days now."
Angel whispered something, she was certain it was Gaelic, and not family friendly.
"Your demon?" She asked, catching his eyes.
Slowly he nodded, "Yeah." He leaned back, "It's been pissed at me, still is. I'm guessing it's that anger you feel pulsing though the connection."
That gave her something to store in the back of her logic box, 'There's another angle, angry demon = Angel says and does stupid things.'
Figuring as much, she moved to sat in his lap, "So how do we fix that?"
He smirked as she ran her hands up his chest and over his shoulders, "I think you called it being on the receiving end of a double penetrating kiss."
"I did, didn't I." Those hands of hers were moving still, one down his left arm and around his waist as she leaned in, the other fisting the hair at the base of his neck.
He shivered slightly as her lips brushed his, but they didn't stay there long, her mouth drifted to his cheek before nipping at his ear.
A growl of approval followed as she toyed with the lobe a moment, her lips traveling, kissing, exploring, moving down.
He suddenly gasped and nearly jumped off the couch.
"Sorry, couldn't remember if you like that or not." Her apology was sincere as she pulled back a little, giving him some breathing room.
Shocked and blinking dumbly, he just sat there a moment with his mouth open before exasperating, "You bit me!"
With a raised golden eyebrow, "Yes, and to recap, you were pretty much planning to do the same to me. I just beat you to it." Watching him for a reaction, she could not honestly remember if she had, in fact, even bitten him on the neck before. There may have been a time or two on the shoulder or finger, ear, tongue, lips...
'How long have I been with Angel and I really never tried to bite him before now?'
He didn't respond immediately, in fact, he didn't looked overly thrilled. There was a crease line on his brow.
'Nope, he didn't go for it.' She thought, figuring her welcome on his lap had been, bitten short. When she began to moved she noticed a certain aspect of his anatomy was apparently very undiscouraged.
His arms tightened around her, halting her escape.
"Angel?" She asked, watching his face again, "You okay?"
He breathed out, pulled her up against him and buried his face in her hair, breathing her scent into his nose.
After a moment he spoke quietly, keeping her face down against his shoulder to avoid her accusing eyes, "No, not really. I haven't blown a load in my pants since I went through puberty, but someone just reset the counter on me."
It took a second to realize what he was saying. When he'd jumped from her bite, it had been an orgasm, then Buffy couldn't help the shocked laugh, "So I guess you do like it! Maybe too much..."
He let her go when she fought to sit up, her giggles and soft smooches on his burning cheeks slowly seeping into him, dissipating his scowl.
"If it's any consolation, I don't see you as any less of a man." She told him with a kiss to his fading pink cheek. "And as extra bonus points, my neck stopped throbbing."
A pretty deep growl emitted from his throat, "That's because the throbbing moved to my teeth. You really riled my demon up with that little stunt."
"I know, I can feel it." Buffy admitted with a lusty grin, keeping a firm hold on his shoulders to keep the demon energy rolling off him in waves from pushing her right off his lap.
His arms were keeping her tightly pulled against him, his lips were hovering over hers, "God I hope that was an invitation." His face shifted as he spoke, "I don't he's taking 'no' for an answer."
She could clearly see Angel was trying to hold back, his forehead breaking out in a sweat as he tried to reel the demon back in, but not being all too successful.
Her hand came up to cup his cheek, she could feel him shaking slightly, his heart was pounding, breaths rapid.
When she looked into those begging demonic eyes, the black pupils were dilated to almost covering the yellow entirely.
He needed a fix, badly.
Leaning towards him, her neck teasingly close to his mouth, as asked, "So what are you waiting for?"
Everything that happened after that was a pleasurable blur.
...
Buffy grinned as she fingered her lover's sex mussed hair, her eyes were misty and her brain slowly resuming normal thought processes. 'Now this is more like how the whole day should have gone once the kids were out the door.'
Her neck was as tingly as a certain part of her lower anatomy, both having been pleasantly penetrated very recently, one of the doubled variety.
The perpetrator was laying on his side, half on her, half stretched beside her, his hand idly rubbing her growing belly as his eyes studied at her breasts. The smirk on his face was brought on by the thought he had to just lean forwards and could suck one of those teasingly bare nipples into his mouth.
The spell was broke when Buffy spoke, "How did we get over here?" She'd looked around, noticing they were no longer on the couch, in fact, about 20 feet away, laying on the carpet by the stairs.
"Don't know, don't care." He answered truthfully. Over the last hour of so, his brain had failed to resister anything that wasn't directly attached to Buffy. Instead, he went for the nipple.
"Angel!" She laughed as he dragged her closer, his mouth having a joyous time sampling her ample chest.
"Okay, put on the breaks" She shoved him off, "We are not going another round on the carpet, we are in the living room, we get company here , the kids play here..."
Her rant was cut short when he jumped to his feet then scooped her up into his arms, "Fine, we'll continue in the bedroom."
He was already halfway up the stairs with her when she was able to reply, "I just washed the sheets!"
"Good, they'll be fresh." He grinned as he slipped into the bedroom and kicked the door shut behind him.
...
"It's after 6pm." His wife's voice spoke into his chest, her fingers playing with his where they rested over her growing womb.
His hands always ended up there sooner of later when she had someone renting out her womb.
"Mmm Hmm, that's nice." Mumbled lazily from the living vampire, his body basking in the sated exhaustion one feels after a long and satisfying romp with the Mrs.
Well, that and a general lack of any restful sleep the night before.
'He's totally half asleep, you'd think having a demon would excuse him from that whole 'guys fall asleep after sex' thing...so nope.'
Shaking him and seriously contemplating whacking him with her pillow, "I'm totally all for the post-sex slumber party, but we need to pick the kids up from Connor's in..." She eyed the clock again, "25 minutes."
With a growl, he reluctantly sat up, mostly while being under assault of her encouraging nudges. "Alright, alright, stop hitting me" he grumbled, his sleepy expression evoking a grin from her.
"Trust me, I haven't resorted to hitting yet." The slayer teased as she rose hurried into the bathroom for a quick shower. Arriving at her Connor's smelling like sex would be just too mortifying for this slayer right now.
The tall dark haired man forced himself up off the ever inviting sex laden sheets and ruffled though his draws for clean clothes.
He'd just finished dressing when Buffy exited, toweling wet hair as she hurried to dress. With the bathroom now free, he slipped inside before his wife could hog the sink.
Fifteen minutes later, they were backing the SUV out of the driveway, discussing were they wanted to stop for dinner once they collected the mini-demons.
Out of the corner of her eye, she looked him over. Noticing despite his coma-like state in bed earlier, he was fully awake now, his eyes constantly checking the road and mirrors, except right now, when he'd caught her watching him.
A grin slid across his lips as a big hand slipped around hers as he drove, his eyes back on the road. After a moment, the grin faltered, "If I hadn't been acting like an idiot, we could have spent more quality alone time together."
Sliding over, she peeked his cheek, "Don't be, we have a whole lifetime together, that's plenty of pending quality alone time."
That brought back the grin, even upgrading it to a quick smile, "Yeah, we do."
...
The End...for now.