Check it out! I'm totally on a roll this month! I suppose it helps that there's been a lull in the intensity of my schoolwork lately.

The taste was beyond incredible. He was in heaven. He had to be—there was no other explanation for something this perfect. He had known it would be like this long before her kiss offered him that first taste, and he couldn't remember why he had tried to refuse, or how he had resisted the temptation this long. Then again, perhaps the love she had for him and the fact that she gave her blood freely were what made it taste this way, because that had certainly never happened before, not in all of his years as a vampire. The idea that it was only because she was a Slayer, that Faith's blood would have been the same, was absurd.

The very small part of his mind that was still aware of his surroundings registered dimly that they had moved—rolled, so that she was trapped beneath him, though he couldn't recall when that had happened. Buffy had offered no hint of resistance—on the contrary, she continued to hold onto him as if her life depended on it, even though the opposite was currently true. If he had been capable at that moment of thinking about anything besides the unbelievable taste and power of her blood, the realization of how much she must be forcibly repressing her Slayer instincts to let him do this would have brought him to his knees.

He could feel the living fire from her veins eradicating the diseased heat of the poison in his own as it swept through them. Pain vanished and strength and feeling returned with every swallow, and they didn't stop when they reached the levels to which he was accustomed. But her grip on him was weakening more and more the stronger he became, and the temperature of her skin was falling as his rose. When her arms finally dropped limply from around him, his reason ground back into action with surprising force.

Nothing in Angel's entire existence had ever been as difficult as it was to pull away from her then, but he did it, and for a moment he was too bewildered by everything that had just happened to do more than lie there next to her. But that moment only lasted as long as the space between her heartbeats—a space that was far too long. Panic filled him and he sprang into motion. Within seconds he had donned shoes, shirt, and jacket, then burst out of the apartment with Buffy draped across his arms. He didn't even notice Wesley standing there as he took the stairs in two bounds and sprinted out into the night, her far too faint heartbeat in his ears as he hoped with everything in him and prayed to whoever might be listening that he would make it to the hospital in time.

[o]

Wesley was still standing frozen in the hall outside the apartment when Willow and Oz returned with coffee and apple turnovers. The sight of them jolted him out of his daze, and he accepted his share of their loot without thinking.

"How's Angel?" asked Oz.

"Have you heard anything from Buffy yet?" Willow added.

"The hospital," said Wesley, but the words were barely comprehensible. He winced and cleared his throat with some difficulty, for it had grown painfully dry and stiff in the time since Buffy had entered the apartment. He tried again. "Angel took Buffy to the hospital. We should go."

"What?" squeaked Willow. "What happened? Did Faith hurt her before she could bring her here?"

He couldn't answer, but Willow barely seemed to notice through her panic. Oz gently led her back out to his van. Wesley climbed into the back and then they were off. Giles and Xander arrived at the hospital mere seconds after they did, and Angel came to meet them. Despite being obviously cured, Wesley thought Angel looked dreadful. In fact, Angel's expression was the same as the one he had worn right after he won the Council's tournament all those months ago.

Wesley stood slightly apart from the group as Angel haltingly answered their questions about what had happened and told them that Buffy was asleep, recovering. He could understand the horrified expressions of Willow, Oz, and Mr. Giles, but Xander's blatantly hostile remarks caused little spikes of irritation and dislike to shoot through him. Buffy was going to be fine, and Angel obviously didn't need help feeling distraught over what he had done; was it entirely necessary to kick him when he was down? Somewhat harshly, Mr. Giles told Angel he ought to leave before the sun came up, and despite his reluctance, he obeyed.

"Gosh, I'm gonna miss him when he leaves town," said Xander before Angel was out of earshot. After shooting the boy a disgusted glare, Wesley turned and followed Angel out, feeling the surprised gaze of Mr. Giles on his back as he left.

[o]

It was Giles's turn to visit Buffy in her room, which left Willow, Oz, and Xander to wait in the hall.

"Does Buffy's mom know?" Willow asked to break the silence.

"Buffy sent her out of town until after graduation," said Xander.

"D-do you think we should call her?"

"Buffy's gonna be fine," said Oz in an even voice that somehow managed to convey reassurance, though perhaps that element came from the way he intertwined his fingers with Willow's and gave them a small squeeze. "She probably doesn't want her mom coming back yet. She can tell her after we're finished with the Mayor, if she wants to."

"Yeah," said Willow, relaxing a little.

"Man, I really wish I had a stake right now," said Xander abruptly.

"I don't think the cafeteria here serves steak," said Willow in a confused voice, but then comprehension dawned. "Oh." After a second's pause, her brow furrowed and she looked indignantly at her best friend. "Hey, don't say that!"

"Why the hell not?" Xander demanded angrily. Oz moved closer to Willow and the muscles in his jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. Noticing this, Xander backed off very slightly before he spoke again. "He drank Buffy's blood to save himself. He almost killed her!"

"He didn't do it because he wanted to," said Willow reproachfully.

"He says," scoffed Xander.

"Well, people donate organs to people they love to save them all the time," said Willow. "It's the same thing."

"Yeah, but they don't make them perform the operation themselves," said Xander.

Willow raised her eyebrows. "And that's exactly what happened. Buffy made him do it."

Oz smirked slightly, but Xander was not pleased at having walked right into Willow's logic trap.

"You didn't see him when he was sick, Xander," she went on. "He could barely move, and he was sort of out of his mind most of the time. How was he supposed to force Buffy to do anything she didn't want to do? Also, he didn't even know that Slayer blood was the cure, and he thought I was Buffy at one point, and all he did was say how much he loves her and that he was sorry he would have to leave. Besides, couldn't you see how horrible he felt when he told us what happened? He never would have done it if he'd been strong enough to stop it."

"But why would Buffy do that?" asked Xander, almost more angrily than before.

"She loves him," said Willow simply. "Why do you think she ran away last summer?"

It was this indirect reminder of the lie Xander had told and its consequences that finally got through to him. "Fine," he said grudgingly after a few seconds. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"Nobody likes it," said Oz. "We're just glad they're both okay."

[o]

Wesley wasn't surprised that Angel went to the mansion instead of his apartment, which would surely be too fresh and painful of a reminder of the night's events to deal with. He was, however, slightly alarmed to find him pacing restlessly across the great room and running his hands repeatedly through his hair when he arrived there ten minutes after him. He looked like he was about to explode from all the energy trapped inside him, and the fact that that energy had come from Buffy's blood probably wasn't doing his sanity any favors—nor that his options for releasing that energy had just been severely curtailed by the rising sun. Wesley was about to suggest that Angel try venting a little on the punching bag when he noticed that the chain that had held it was empty, and its remains were already strewn across the floor for several yards in each direction.

"What did she tell you before she went in?" Angel asked, and the suddenness of the question nearly made Wesley jump.

"She wanted to see you. Naturally, I let her in. I had no idea what she…what she intended to do until I heard the lock click."

"But you knew then?!" A loud growl tore from Angel's throat, and the next second, he had slammed Wesley up against the wall. "Why the hell didn't you stop her?!" he bellowed, not even noticing that his face had changed.

Even with Angel's hand closed painfully around his throat and his demonic and rather deranged face inches from his own, Wesley's expression hadn't altered in the slightest. Angel found this infuriating. Wesley should be afraid. Horrified, like the others had been. How could he look so calm when he knew exactly what he, Angel, was capable of doing to the woman he loved? How could a Watcher have let his Slayer sacrifice herself like that?

"Do you really think I could have stopped her?" said Wesley coldly. "You couldn't stop her! Perhaps I should have tried, though, if this is any indicator of how you're going to treat her when she gets out of that hospital."

Angel's eyes widened. His vampiric features faded back into human ones as shame replaced blind rage. He let his arm drop to his side and backed away from Wesley, head bowed.

"That girl was willing to kill and die to save you," said Wesley, rubbing his throat gingerly. "Only by the most fortunate and improbable of chances, she didn't actually manage to do either, and yet here you stand, whole. If you really have the gall to minimize what she gave to put everything right, then perhaps you aren't as well worth saving as she thought. It's done and you're both still alive, so I would recommend that you put away your self-hatred and blame, and let appreciation and humility be the order of the day, as they should." He drove his words home with a challenging glare before abruptly turning and stalking out of the mansion, closing the door behind him with an echoing bang.

I really didn't expect to write anything more of the bite scene, but then that Angel's POV bit up there just kind of *happened* out of nowhere, and it was pretty much perfect. So, yeah, the canon stuff at the hospital, like Angel confronting the Mayor and Faith being in a coma--that all still happened offscreen. I can't decide whether I like Willow's conversation with Xander or Wesley's conversation with Angel better. Oh, and I should probably clear this up before I get any closer to the end, since some of you have already been asking about it: I do not intend to write a sequel. Unless I can think of how to make later canon substantially different in ways other than Buffy and Angel not splitting up, which I haven't at this point, there isn't enough incentive to do it, particularly when I've got so many other unfinished projects to work on and "The Slayer and His Vampire" has been on hold for more than half a year specifically because of this one.