Buffy
Lightning strikes as the dark sky rumbles. The address in my pocket is a match to the number spray painted on the sidewalk. Another worry silenced. I shouldn't have come here. But I'm not turning back.
"Hello?"
My eyes drift up to the intricate ceiling as I slip inside the large metal doors. "Anybody home," I call. "Angel?"
The sun will be rising soon. Angel should be here. There's a small bell on the counter but who knows where Cordelia is and the last thing I need is a run in with Queen C. My footsteps are silent as I ascend the stairs, and I can't help but wonder if this was a purposeful design.
Outside of the familiar pull we've always shared, there is nothing to guide me as I make my way down the winding halls in search of Angel's room. Of course, he would have an entire floor to himself. Silence echoes off the baron walls as I traverse the dimly lit building.
The door to his room is cracked, but just a sliver. The sun will be up soon, but it's been a long time since he kept the hours of a vampire. If he's anything like me, he's probably out well before the sunrise these days.
The sight of Angel will always take my breath away. Wake the giddy girl buried deep inside. You, my tortured Angel, are the only reason left for me to smile. Fate is cruel, and this world is ruthless. I didn't want to be a part of it anymore but you made me promise, so here I am, a living reminder, mister, there's gotta be something worth living for.
His son's crib is burnt and broken. My heart bled when I learned of his existence. But my soul shattered when Spike told me what Wesley had done. I didn't even think to call. Just got in mom's old car and drove straight here. After all, what could be said?
Satin sheets. Big surprise. For a man so mysterious, you sure are predictable when it comes to these things. I barely even breathe as I strip down, terrified that he will hear and start spouting logic and reason. Curses, friends, and watchers might stand in our way, but only one of them is here tonight. And I am nothing, if not skilled, in pushing a gypsy curse's limits.
The plush mattress dips as my knees touch down. His head turns and every muscle in my body freezes, but his long lashes don't budge. An unnecessary breath leaves him as I slip between the sheets and his chest rumbles as my legs slide around him.
We need no words as his cool palms land on my thighs. His dark eyes pop open. But instead of questioning what the hell I'm doing or why we're both naked, he tugs me down, crushing his lips to mine. He's tangy and cool, and there are whispers of copper and mint.
A taste that's uniquely Angel.
His hands mead my flesh as he trades the safety of my thighs for the curve of my hips, and his grip tightens as his tongue explores the caverns of my mouth. Angel's thick and heavy, just like in all of my favorite memories, and when my fingers find their way around his rigid flesh, he moans just like he used to.
Low and deep.
The sound sends a jolt of pleasure from my lips down to the tips of my toes, and suddenly I'm seventeen all over again. There are no curses, Hell Gods, or sires. No sisters or sons. There's just him and me, a Claddagh ring, and a promise of forever.
But his eyes are dark and haunting and when I look back they fill with unshed tears, and I can't help but pull away.
"I need you…" His words are honest and raw. There's a reason I snuck away tonight. That I came here in the dead of night without warning. No one understands sacrifice quite like us. We're not allowed to be selfish. Don't have the pleasure of putting each other first. "Is this real?"
My chest tightens at the sorrow in his voice and my fingers tangle in the dark hair I've missed so much. My touch is light as a feather as I scale over familiar muscles and taught arms while quietly promising that I'm here. "It's really me."
His head shakes, and I already know where that stubborn mind of his is headed. "What are you… You shouldn't…" His gaze leaves me to land on the singed alcove that used to belong to his son. The idea of him having a child filled me with rage. But I would give anything to lay eyes on that boy.
He was a part of Angel. I would have loved him, too.
"It's okay… I mean… I'm so-"
His cool tongue presses against the seam in my mouth, demanding re-entry as he flips our positions, rolling me beneath him. Oxygen becomes secondary as strong fingers tease my nipples and my eyes roll back when his mouth takes a turn.
We might be breaking the rules. But whatever happens tonight will fall well beyond the bounds of perfect happiness. Something we both seem to be aware of. How ironic. The only solace we're allowed is within the deepest depths of despair.
"Fuck," I hiss when his cock nudges my aching center. I'm wet and ready and unlike the night of my seventeenth birthday, all it takes is a single smooth thrust before I'm stretching around thick flesh.
My nails dig into his shoulders as my body adjusts. Each and every one of his curves aligns with mine, something else I didn't take the time to appreciate on my birthday. Every one of his muscles is straining as he fights the urge to move.
Lucky for him, I'm not as innocent as I once was, and roll my hips to prove it. His eyes whip to mine as a familiar smirk takes over his handsome face. His hands grip behind my knees, guiding my legs over his shoulders until he practically has me folded in half. Only then does he give into the friction I so desperately crave.
Our hips slam as he withdraws until I'm achingly empty, before tilting forward and starting all over again. Mouths are frantic as we desperately claw closer.
How we have lived without this, without each other, I will never understand. He is my perfect companion. The piece that completes me. No boyfriend or demon will ever change that. Angel is my best friend. The final face I see each night before sleep claims me.
Our paths may be separate, but our lives will forever intertwine. He taught me what it means to be loved, and nothing or no one can take that away. "I love you."
"I love you," I promise. "Always."
There's a coil of fire blossoming in my belly and his thrust lessens as another smirk takes place. "Yeah?" He grunts, rolling us once again. "Show me."
My head tilts, but my hands brace against his chest and his arms fold behind him as he prepares for the show.
A slow grin takes over my face as our gazes lock and for a moment, I can almost pretend the world isn't crumbling around us. Almost forget the constant agony thrown my way. Pretend there's a chance everything will get better someday.
"I miss you," comes out as nothing more than a whisper before my body moves on its own accord. I'm a mess of tilts, lifts and arches, rising and falling, desperate for more.
Desperate for what only Angel has ever been able to give me. A sense of belonging, of mattering to someone. A freedom to be myself, a break from the world's expectations. Being whole, something I doubt I'll ever be again. Not after so much has happened.
Not after Spike.
Blood thunders and heat shoots through me once he can no longer keep his hands to himself, reaching for my hips in a blinding, bruising force to take control of my movements. My nails dig half moons into his strong shoulders as his hips pump upward to meet my every thrust. Hungry eyes drink in every inch of me, as if trying to commit everything before him to memory as I lose all focus.
OoOoO
My entire body is tense as we float back down to reality, waiting for him to snap that we made a mistake. Go into some rant about how we're being careless. Not that he's exactly wrong, but I don't want to hear it come out of his face. Not now, and honestly, never again.
Our harsh truth is my only constant.
I just want to continue living in this blissful bubble of denial for a little while longer.
But surprising me, Angel only sighs when he sits up, swinging his long legs over the side of the bed. He disappears for several minutes before returning with some nearly frozen bottles of water and climbs back into the bed.
"How long are you staying?"
"Not long," I promise. "It'll only take so much time before everyone notices I'm gone… There's more than enough waiting for me back home. I just… I needed to see you."
He unscrews the lid to his own bottle and takes a hearty gulp of the cool liquid. "I guess you know."
The painfully empty cribs calls to me again. "The details were lacking , but yeah. I heard about what happened to your son, Angel. And I am so, so, unbelievably sorry. I don't have the words to express how deep that runs or the know-how to make any of this better, but I wanted you to know that I was sorry and that I'm here. I'm not sure what good I can do, but if there's anything, anything at all, I'm still just a phone call away. I've already asked my best people to look into it. I don't know how much we can come up with, but we're all here for you."
"My best people caused this."
My heart squeezes as an image of my former watcher pops into my mind. "You're going to get him back," I whisper, making another promise I have no right to make.
OoOoO
I meant to ask Angel to tell me about what happened, but I simply ask him to tell me about Connor instead. His face does this thing where it both lights up like a child on Christmas morning and showcases the detestation he's currently living. Though he soldiers, carefully dancing around any solid mentions of Darla and how his son came to be in the first place, and focuses on the journey he's been part of.
As with any proud parent, he can recite all those birth measurements and where he stood now, all the development milestones Connor had already reached. What made him laugh, cry - besides the obvious.
He tells me more about his team, how they had all taken to Connor and we're doing everything they could to save him. Again, without mention of a few certain individuals.
"I feel so helpless," he chokes out. "I don't know how to get through one moment to the next. I'll charge forward thinking we have a lead and that gives me a sense of purpose, but then it doesn't pan out and I'm here all over again. I hide away from everyone, stare at the walls, replaying everything until sleep claims me. Then wake up guilt ridden because I've wasted time and I'm not doing anything to get him back. I keep trying to focus on what keeps me living day after day and I damn near think I conjured you up in the process… I know I need to be here for when he's found… but what if that never happens?
"Angel…"
"He was perfect… and mine."
"He had my mother's smile."
The heavy blanket shifts as I crawl closer. One of my hands lands around his chest as I settle into the crook of his arm and soft lips press against my forehead. "Your mother?"
Angel nods. "I can't remember much about her. Even her face is muddled, but when Connor smiled, a light bulb went off. There she was, all these decades later, right back in front of me…"
"I wish you could have met him."
I don't voice that there's still a chance. It's too much of a lie. Even if Angel gets Connor back…
OoOoO
"The sun is up. I should probably go soon."
Angel's hold on me tightens. "You can't leave yet. All you've done is listen to me ramble. You haven't told me anything. How's Sunnydale? How have things been since…"
"I rose from the dead?"
"Mmm. Please don't remind me."
Despite the heavy conversation, my fingers take on a mind of their own, dancing down the sculpted marble that haunts my dreams. Angel's breath hitches as they tangle in the trail of hairs leading south. It's short and coarse and the muscles beneath flex as my teasing fingertips pass by.
The air shifts once again. Away from the current horror story of my life. The mess that is me is not what today is about. I'm here to ease his sorrow, not add to his burden.
Giles' departure. The alternate dimension where I'm stuck in a psych ward. Willow's abuse of magic… Spike. No, thank you.
"I don't want to waste any more time talking…"
His lips curl, but those soulful eyes narrow as he flips around, pinning me down. "You're not telling me something."
"I'm not telling you lots of things."
An argument is on the tip of his tongue. To detect is in his nature, couldn't have chosen a better business, but he swallows it down, pressing his lips to mine. We don't have time for jealousy or an explanation for our choice of lovers.
They don't count, anyway. Not really.
Angel is mine, and I am his, and that's all that really matters in the end. My friends don't understand and neither does his. Once you belong to someone, you can't take that back. No lover could touch the bond we share. Spike's a distraction, a cheap replica. Darla was convenient, a visceral bottom.
What would have happened if I never missed his call that night?
Something else to add to the long list of things we will never know. Though luck has never been on our side. Glory would have still taken Dawn, and then what? Angel would still be here.
No use in crying over what could have been when every road led to tragedy.
Angel's mouth lands with borrowed warmth, and a new sensation takes lead. Large palms squeeze handfuls of flesh, and my legs twitch when he growls against my clit. "Fine… We can skip the small talk just this once… But answer me this Buffy Anne Summers… You still my girl?"
Thin lips hover as he awaits my answer and my chest heaves when the heat flowing through my veins kicks up another degree. My hips wiggle as I claw arms and broad shoulders, but Angel doesn't budge. Somehow his eyes only darken as a new smirk takes hold.
"Always."
OoOoO
My plan of distraction has proven to be a euphoric success. While Angel is gutted, battered, and broken, that spark flaring in his eyes is back.
Today was no gift. Simply a reprieve.
"That's my girl," Angel says. Chest heaving. Sweat beading down his brow. "One more."
My head shakes against the silky pillow. "That was eight!" I say, any worry about my hair long forgotten. "You beat your record… I can't."
It's official. I have become his pillow princess.
"No?" Angel asks, brow lifting.
Legs trembling, my shaky hands twist in the sheets as he guides my hips. One palm smooths down my spine as his other teases and twists me into position. My arms are useless and my face lands on the soft sheets with a small giggle.
"I love you." Angel's voice is sturdy and deep, and his breath tickles my neck when he leans down to drop a kiss. "Forever."
I can do little more than moan as sensitive flesh collides. Angel's words are my only truth. An unyielding constant.
One day, my love. One day.
OoOoO
Angel's eyes are red and glossy. His chivalry made another appearance but I shut that down. We don't have much time left. The sun will be setting soon and as soon as Angel slips off to sleep our time together will end.
"You could stay… I've got a few leads we could-"
"We both know that isn't a good idea."
Angel's arms around me tighten as my leg slides between his own. His chest is my favorite pillow. There is no safer place than his arms. A million words pass between us as he dips down to nuzzle my nose. Our lips graze and tease in a design that's heartbreakingly familiar.
Shared silent vows too sacred to voice.
Forever. Eternity. One day in this life, we will be together again.