Button, Button by Anaunthe
Summary: A depressed and distraught Buffy gets herself into more trouble than she can handle, which works out just fine for Angelus. The challenge is whether Angelus can successfully manipulate people and events in order to get what he wants. But just what is Angelus striving for, and where do Buffy, Spike and Drusilla fit in? Picks up mid-season two sometime after I Only Have Eyes for You. Answer to a Bloodverse challenge, which wanted Buffy/Spike/Angelus. NOMINATED AT FANG FETISH AWARDS!!
Categories: General NC-17 Fics Characters: None
Genres: Romance, Horror, Angst
Warnings: Violence, Adult Language, Sexual Situations, Rape, Freaky/Kinky, Buffy/Other, Spike/Other
Challenges:
Series: None
Chapters: 28 Completed: Yes Word count: 61428 Read: 12952 Published: 03/23/2006 Updated: 08/19/2006
Chapter 1: Reunion by Anaunthe
Author's Notes:
I don't even remember when I began this fic, but it was some time ago. OracleHolly beta'd the first several chapters for me (thank you, thank you), and then I shelved it because I thought it wasn't going in the direction I wanted it to. Now I am taking it out and sprucing it up to see if you like it.

Things You Should Know: This fic begins in Season Two with Buffy/Angelus. Angelus is not nice. If you can't take Buffy/Other, this fic is probably not for you. Right now Spike is still in a wheelchair, but he is the Spike of Seaon Two and is not nice either. Hence, the Adults Only Rating.

More Warnings: This fic is both racy and dark. It depicts non-consenual acts, obsession, domination, addiction, torture, suicidal thoughts and other unpleasantness as well as slash and multiple pairings. If you think this will offend you, DON"T READ IT.
Chapter 1: Reunion

Like so many before it, the day had been long, and hard, and joyless. Whatever pleasure or pride she had taken in her calling before, it was gone now. Turned to dust like the never-ending procession of vampires she slayed. She had been dealing. But after that ghost possession thing – not so much.

It had surprised her a little that Angel’s apartment still looked the same, although she had known that it shouldn’t have. Obviously no one had disturbed the place since that horrible night when she had come here with Angel and woken up to the nightmare that was now her life.

She had been looking for a little respite - a place to escape from her friends, however well meaning, and be alone with her grief. She had wanted to feel close to him, one last time, to touch the things that he had touched, and to be reminded of the sweet and gentle man that he had been, rather than the monster that he had become. She realized now, standing in what had once been his apartment, that coming here had been a mistake. She had thought that enough time had gone by, that her feelings would be muted, manageable; that somehow this visit to the past would help her be able to put it to rest. She was finding the reverse to be true.

Standing among his things, she could almost feel Angel’s presence. She could almost convince herself that he had only just slipped out, and would be returning soon with hot tea and donuts, his idea of what she would like for breakfast. She still missed him terribly. If she was honest with herself, she knew that somewhere the girl inside her still clung to the belief that there was some way that she could banish Angelus again, and bring back her Angel.

Intellectually, she knew that it was a foolish dream, and as the Slayer, she knew it was a dangerous one. Giles had explained to her that it was impossible, and she trusted Giles’ judgment. But stubbornly she still hoped for a miracle. And because her heart refused to believe the truth, she couldn’t bring herself to kill Angelus yet, even when she had had the chance. Rationally, the only glimmer of hope she had to cling to was the knowledge that Angelus hadn’t been able to kill her either - despite all his bluster. In her fantasies she hoped that there was still a spark of Angel inside of Angelus, that a part of him still loved her.

The sheets had never been changed after their encounter here – and they still smelled like him. Moaning, she flung herself on the unmade bed and wrapped herself in the smell of him. And she lay there, gently shaking, until she cried herself to sleep.

The sound of a key in the lock had her awake instantly. By the time the light flicked on overhead, she was hidden in the mass of unruly covers on the bed, all but invisible to a casual inspection. Her mind whirled. Who else would come here? Her Watcher might, perhaps, but he didn’t have a key. The only other who came to mind terrified her – Angelus?

For his part, he had known that she would be in the apartment even before he had opened the door. That’s probably why he had felt the compulsion to come here tonight. Somehow he had known that she would be here – alone and physically and emotionally vulnerable. He spied her weapons casually discarded beside the door, closer to him than they were to her. Foolish, foolish girl, to ever think that she was safe, especially here.

Buffy could hear his footsteps as he entered and looked around the room that had once been his. Hearing his soft exclamation as he found her weapons dropped so carelessly next to the door. She knew that it was definitely Angelus. She sensed that he knew that she was here, and probably knew exactly where she was. She calculated her odds of being able to spring around him and reach her stakes or her axe - knew that they weren’t good. But what other weapons did she have? If she tried to fight, or to run, she knew that she would lose. Still she hoped that there was a part of Angel that remained. Just a tiny part of Angel, enough to make him hesitate before draining her. If her belief was true, then she had a chance, just a chance, that she would make it out of here alive.

That hope burned brighter as she realized that Angelus hadn’t picked up one of her weapons. And she could tell that he hadn’t yet changed into vamp face; she would have heard it in the timbre of his voice as her chastised her.

“Buffy, Buffy, Buffy? When will you learn you need to be careful?”

He sat on the bed and whispered to her still covered form. Of course he knew exactly where she was. It felt like she could hear her own heartbeat surging in her ears; of course it was even louder to him.

He continued whispering in her ear, so softly she could barely hear him over the racing of her own pulse. “There are bad men out there, and worse, that would love to take advantage of you.”

She had thought that she was scared before, but that was nothing to what she was feeling now. She knew that he could hear her heart pounding even harder, her breath quickening. When he reached out and gently caressed her form underneath the covers, unerringly finding her secret places, she had been completely unprepared. ‘Oh god,’ she panicked, ‘his hands feel like Angel.’ His touch was soft, sweet, gentle and so like Angel’s that she was disgusted to find her body responding. He must have known too, because he pulled back the covers, revealing her to his gaze, and smiled down at her. Staring into her eyes (so like Angel), he purred, “Did you miss me, lover?”

Buffy tried to push him away, but it was like trying to move a brick wall. Before she could even think what to try next, he had grabbed both her wrists and held them to her sides while he pressed his body down on top of her. He ground his erection into the flesh of her thigh, screwing her with their clothes on.

“You know you want to,” he whispered, tempting. “We can do it missionary if you like, just like with soul-boy. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He began slowly removing her clothing, caressing her skin as he exposed it to his gaze. Then his voice changed again, dropping the menacing tones, sounding more like Angel every second, “Buffy, Buffy, I love you, Buffy.” Then he laughed.

“Is that what he said? Is that all it took to get you to open your thighs to him? I hope you enjoyed it. And I’ve been meaning to thank you personally. If you hadn’t been so easy, I’d never have been able to cast him out.”

Buffy was furious. She knew she was completely vulnerable in this position. Perhaps if she could get him talking, she’d be able to gain herself some advantage.

“You didn’t cast him out,” she spat. “You don’t have the strength to take Angel on! It was that damned ‘happiness clause’ in the gypsy curse that banished his soul and let you out.”

She had meant to make him mad, but instead he laughed. It made him sloppy, and the pressure of his body eased up on her a bit. Using his distraction she began to slide out from under him and slip one hand free to reach for the stake that he hadn’t seen, the one that had fallen out of her clothes while she slept and rolled under the bed. She wasn’t so toothless as he thought, and he’d find that out if she could just stretch a little farther. But he caught her hand, brought it up to his lips.

“Is that what you think? Did your Watcher tell you that? You really are gullible aren’t you? Angel’s here, Buffy.” He put her hand on his unbeating chest, “Always here, inside me. You can still feel him inside me, can’t you? You know I’m telling you the truth.”

It was a lie. It was her fondest wish, but it had to be a lie. Giles had told her. Angel’s soul was banished back to the netherworld. There was no way to get it back. Angel was gone, completely gone. Nothing of him remained. But a nagging hope teased the back of her mind, ‘If there is nothing left of Angel in him, then why am I still so attracted to Angelus? And why hasn’t he killed me already?’ It couldn’t just be that he looked like Angel. She didn’t think she was that shallow.

An evil smile spread across Angelus’s face again. He was really enjoying playing with her mind, as well as her body. “I’ll prove it to you then. I’ll let you two talk alone for a while.” Without letting go of his hold on her, he bent over and opened the nightstand, took out a pair of handcuffs, then fastened her wrists to the bed. He smiled as he watched her struggle with the cuffs as he got up to put the keys on a table on the far side of the room. “Just to avoid any temptation,” Angelus explained. “If lover boy goes for the keys, I’ll be back in control before he can even reach the table.”

“I don’t believe you,” she stated. “It’s a trick.” She continued to try to find a way out of the handcuffs as he casually removed his coat, then his shirt and shoes, finally his pants. His body was just as she had imagined it would be- gorgeous, and completely… aroused. She had never seen Angel like this. It had been dark, and everything that had happened had taken place under the covers.

“I don’t really care what you believe,” he replied, strutting a little, making sure she had a good view. “Although since this may be the last time you see each other, I suggest that you take advantage of it.” He stalked over towards her and looked down at her still struggling form.

“You know, with those cuffs on,” he said conversationally, “I’m beginning to see what it was he saw in you.” He unfastened her blouse and began to tug her pants down. “You might want to ask him about that, you know.” At her confused look he explained, “the handcuffs. I didn’t bring them with me. Didn’t expect to find you here when I set out tonight, now did I?” His grin grew wider as he continued, “Just think about it Buffy. Those cuffs belonged to your saintly Angel.” One free hand rummaged in the open drawer again, pulling something else out. “So did this.”

Buffy’s eyes went wide as Angelus produced a many-corded whip from the same nightstand drawer. “He wasn’t as much of a fool as you thought, he had plans for you, too.” He wasn’t about to tell her what Angel had really used the whip and cuffs for.

Angel had used to chain himself to a pipe on the ceiling by one hand, and then had whipped himself with the other. He had been trying to atone for past sins. To beat the stain and evil out of himself. Only problem was that it had always made him hard.

Of course Angel had taken that as a kind of penance too. And he had forced himself to leave the tension unabated, sometimes for days, unwilling to allow himself relief until he had found some good deed to do, some old lady to save, or until he had seen Buffy again. Sometimes the longing had been so intense that he had found himself nearly climaxing while they kissed. Buffy had never touched him, until the night they had made love in this bed.

Angelus wasn’t sure what he expected from this encounter anymore, but he was sure that it would be entertaining. He didn’t know if she would really believe that he could let the Angel personality free, but he was sure that it would be fun either way. He gave her another evil grin, “The next voice you hear will be Angel. But don’t worry, lover; I can take control again whenever I want. I won’t let him hurt you.”

Buffy watched as Angelus turned his face away from her, and his whole body shook. She could see that something was happening to Angelus, but she wasn’t sure what, or whether the changes were real. The first thing she noticed was that the smile was gone from his face. His posture had changed too – he wasn’t swaggering over her anymore. When she dared to look at his face, she was startled to see the pain in his eyes. Angel’s eyes.

A whisper passed her lips, “Angel?”

He looked at her then, more lost than she had ever seen him. The voice that came from his lips was warm with love and despair. For all the world, it sounded like Angel. What he said was, “No.” Then, “It doesn’t matter. Don’t let him get to you.” He touched her cheek gently. “I wish I could let you go. Help you get away from him. But he’s fixed it so that I can’t. He’s evil Buffy. Everything he does, it’s because he’s evil. Even this – he wants to torture us both. Let you think there’s still hope, when there isn’t any.”

Buffy was hardly listening, so intently was she watching him. She tried to lift her hands to his face, but the cuffs restrained her. “Angel, is that really you? Are you really still there, watching what he does?” Buffy wasn’t sure just who she was dealing with – Angel or Angelus pretending to be Angel. But whoever he was, he thought that he knew Buffy.

Angel’s jaw clenched. Buffy never listened to anything he said. And it had always made him angry, although he had tried not to let it show. “I told you it doesn’t matter. You need to promise me, promise me that you’ll kill him, the next chance you get.” He brought his hands up to her face and stroked her hair.

She still wasn’t sure what to think about the man before her. Was it really Angel, or Angelus pretending to be Angel to taunt her? The next thing she knew he was kissing her, and she wanted so badly to believe that it really was Angel who was holding her, stroking her, making her want him.

Her body responded as if it was Angel, and she was desperate to believe that it was true. She cried as she tried to reach for him. Angel was kissing away her tears. Her mind was in turmoil, but her body knew what it wanted.

It was so easy – Angelus had made sure that Angel was already almost on top of her and they were both already naked. Without conscious decision on her part, he was suddenly inside her. Fleetingly she realized that she did not feel any physical pain this time- only pleasure and desperation.

It began gentle and soothing, as if his cock inside her was just an extension of his arms holding her, giving comfort. They both continued to cry as they made love again, afraid that it would be over too soon – that she would lose him again – if it really was Angel she held in her arms.

God, it felt like Angel. But what if it really was Angelus she was letting fuck her? What if had all been a trick? Suddenly an idea came to her, a way to know for sure- though she was loath to do it. But her need to know was stronger than her desire for comfort or release. Once she had thought of it, the idea wouldn’t go away.

Angel would stop if she asked him to, Angelus wouldn’t.

“Angel.” She kissed him deeply to take the sting out of her words. “Stop. We shouldn’t do this. You need to stay in control. You need to fight him.”

In answer Angel kissed her hand and looked in her eyes again. The same sad expression lingered on his face as he slowly pulled away from her. Without warning his expression suddenly changed, as if someone had shut out the light. And without hesitation Buffy was sure that it was now Angelus who was looking down at her.

“Sorry, lover,” he laughed, “but Angel has left the building. Long time ago, actually, but you seemed to be enjoying yourself so I didn’t want to mention it.” He laughed again. Angelus always seemed to be laughing at her, “I knew I could ‘make love’ just like him.”

He thrust forward a few more times until he finally shuddered and came. Then he pulled himself out and sat back on his knees and stretched. “Boring, wasn’t it? Except for the ‘who am I now’ part. That was fun.” As if to prove his point he yawned widely. “You didn’t even climax once. Remind me – did you come for the poof the first time? Perhaps you’re just frigid.” The cat-like smirk came back. “Or perhaps you just haven’t found the right partner yet.” He crawled over and stuck two fingers in her cunt.

Incredibly Buffy noticed he was still hard. It wasn’t over yet. She knew that she would only get one good shot at him. She needed to really hurt him. Disabling him for a few minutes wouldn’t do her any good – she was still cuffed to the bed. But he hadn’t been able to cuff her legs, and he was going to regret it. Her left leg came down hard on the hand that was inside her – instantly followed by the right, which caught him hard in the chest and threw him across the room. She knew she had broken his wrist, and probably a few of his ribs as well. She was sure now that he’d do one of two things – either kill her outright, or leave to nurse his wounds and come back to torture her another day.

Instead he laughed, again. She was really coming to hate that laugh. “That’s my girl!” he roared. “That’s what I like! A girl with a little spunk!” This time Angelus made sure that he had a wide berth past the foot of the bed, well out of reach of her legs. He approached the front of the bed instead, leaned over and whispered in her ear, his still erect cock pressed close to her face, “If you cooperate, I won’t hurt you. I’ll call your Watcher to come get you. But if you don’t – if you try to hurt me – not only will it not work- but I’ll leave you here while I go take care of your Mother and Watcher both. And then just so you know it wasn’t a bluff, I’ll set their corpses on the couch so they can watch what I do to you next. Understand?”

Buffy wasn’t quite sure what he had in mind, but she understood the threat well enough. She had already been tricked into letting him rape her, was he asking her not to struggle while he killed her?

Angelus seemed to be getting impatient, what was he waiting for? What did he want? All she wanted at this point was to go down fighting. Once she was dead, she hoped that he’d at least unchain her and compose her body so that it wasn’t quite so obvious what had happened, but she rather doubted Angelus would bother.

Apparently she had taken too long. Angelus was whispering to her again, as if they were best friends. “We could try the whip, if you prefer? Or should we save that for another time?”

Another time? What was he talking about? She was as good as dead already. She just wanted to go out with as much dignity as possible, considering the circumstances.

“Buffy, Buffy, Buffy,” she hated the sound of her name in his mouth, “still such an innocent. I told you, I’m not planning on killing you yet – unless you force me to. In fact, I’m not planning on hurting you at all. Well, at least not much. Just lie back and relax. You might even enjoy it.”

Buffy opened her mouth to protest, as Angelus straddled her. “There now. That’s it. Just relax, take it all in. Because it’s your first time, I’ll start out slow.”

She couldn’t speak, could hardly breathe, because suddenly her mouth was full of him. Buffy thought this was the single most disgusting thing she had ever done in her life. If he hadn’t threatened her mother she never would have put up with it, consequences be damned. She could scarcely breathe. Just the thought of what he was doing made her want to vomit, until he came in her mouth, and then she really did feel physically ill as he stroked her throat and forced her to swallow.

Finally he began pulling on his clothes. “Well,” he said. “That was better. See- you can learn – you just needed a good teacher. Unfortunately it’s getting close to dawn and there are still some things I need to do tonight. Otherwise I would have been able to spend more time with you.” He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders in a gesture that again reminded her of the man he used to be. “But then, I guess we can’t always get what we want. I suppose that you would know something about that.” He started heading for the door. “Bye lover. Till next time.”

She was still feeling sick. Besides, she didn’t want to dignify this ‘relationship’ by actually talking to him. Instead she rattled her chains at him, reminding him of his promise. As if he would care.

He looked back at her and grinned again. “Almost forgot to call your Watcher to uncuff you. Unless you wouldn’t mind just waiting there for me to come back- might be a few days though. As I said, I have other things to do besides you - gorgeous as you may be.” He picked her cell phone off the floor and began to dial.

“No.” Buffy hated to say it. Hated to give in to the words she needed to say. He wouldn’t listen anyway. But the thoughts of Giles finding her violated like this…she had to say something. “Don’t… don’t call Giles. I don’t want him to see me like this.”

There was that damn Cheshire grin again. “Why? Afraid the old goat might want some for himself?” At Buffy’s horrified look he laughed again. “As you like. Who then, Willow? Or Xander? That would be fun.”

But Buffy stopped him again. “No – call Ms. Calendar. She’s in the memory.” Buffy didn’t know her that well, but Jenny Calendar was a woman of the world. She might be shocked and appalled by the state Buffy was in, but she’d be practical about it. She wouldn’t panic, or lecture her, or cause her to die of complete and total embarrassment.

Angelus was already off the phone. He retrieved the key from the table and kissed her on the cheek. Then he unlocked her right hand, using the extra cuff to fasten her securely to the bed again. He casually tossed her her underwear. “I told her I’d leave a key under the mat. It’s your key. Feel free to come back and use the apartment any time you miss me. I’ll rush right over.” And then he was gone and Buffy was left alone in the apartment, trying to make herself look presentable with one hand still cuffed to the bed.

___

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