"Unrequited Lust"

Author: Claudia D. Christian
Email: CHANDRA1C@aol.com

Do you mean this horny creep
Set upon weary feet
Who looks in need of sleep
That doesn't come

This twisted, tortured mess
This bed of sinfulness
Who's longing for some rest
And feeling numb

What do you expect of me
What is it you want
Whatever you've planned for me
I'm not the one

A vicious appetite
Visits me each night
And won't be satisfied
Won't be denied

An unbearable pain
A beating in my brain
That leaves the mark of Cain
Right here inside

What am I supposed to do
When everything that I've done
Is leading me to conclude
I'm not the one

Whatever I've done
I've been staring down the barrel of a gun

Is there something you need from me
Are you having your fun
I never agreed to be
Your holy one

Whatever I've done
I've been staring down the barrel of a gun
- "Barrel of a Gun" by Depeche Mode from their albums "ULTRA" and "The Singles 86>98"

"Heard what happened to you boyo! That must have been quite a sight---our Angelus laid out on his side in the middle of the street after being kicked in the balls by the Slayer!" Spike's clipped British accent loudly echoed throughout the cavernous room. Wheeling himself out of the shadows he stopped in the middle, boldly sneering at his sire.

Angelus had just appeared at the top of the steps. As he carefully made his way down, the slight limp in his walk was evident to one and all. Reaching the bottom, his menacing glare swept the room causing all but Spike to scurry out. Fiercely scowling at him, Angelus asked in an annoyed voice "And just how do you know that?"

Letting out a short laugh the blond vampire answered "Good news travels fast."

Walking past he gingerly settled himself in a green brocade chair and muttered "I bet it does." Even though a couple of hours had passed, his nuts still hurt like Hell! Although he couldn't honestly say that it was solely because of her untimely kick...

It had been so hard for him to let her go unscathed, he had so wanted to cause Buffy to scream for him. The fact that she had even dared to abuse his flesh that way made him grit his teeth in barely surpressed rage.

In fact, he had planned on forcing her tonight once she returned to her home. As he waited for her on her virginal bed, he eagerly anticipated the fear that would cross her face as she realized what was in store for her.

Lost in his dark musings Angelus had not realized how much time had actually passed since she left him in an ignoble heap. He then noticed that one, two, three hours had passed and she still wasn't home. The sun would be rising in two hours so he didn't have as much time as he needed. Pacing, his mind speculated on where she could have went to hide. Surely that was what she had done. Oh my little bitch, you just wait until I find you. he frustratedly thought. Just when he was about to climb out her window to tear Sunnydale apart for her, he felt her. A couple of moments later he heard the front door open.

Good. In a few minutes Buffy would walk into her room and into his unmerciful arms. His lips parted in an slow, evil smile as he waited for her to see what he had done to the room. He had placed and lit dozens of candles and invitingly laid the black fur on her bed. Angelus had created the scene for her rape and ultimate unwilling seduction.

As a matter of fact, there was no reason why he couldn't play with her here and then take her to his own lair. With her strength and stubborness the possibilites of hedonistic pleasure were endless...

Anticipation had grown tight within his injured loins as he impatiently waited to hear her light steps tread up the stairs. He heard nothing. In fact, he hadn't heard her after she opened the door. His brow wrinkled in confusion as he thought what the Hell is she doing down there?

After waiting for another ten minutes, Angelus growled in severe irritation as he opened up the door. It just wasn't going to be the same if he had to fetch her. He had wanted to see her try to run from him just so he could catch her and throw her on the bed. Making his way down the narrow stairs, he thought She still might try to run and instantly his mood was restored.

He heard her before he saw her. He heard her softly moan and give a broken pant. Angelus' arousal shot up to an even more painful level. He knew she was alone, so what was she doing?

Slipping into the living room he noticed that all the lights were off, the only illumination coming from the flickering TV set. He immediately saw her curled up on the couch, her body emitting waves of sweet arousal.

Crouching down beside her, Angelus watched her for several minutes, wanting to ease himself with her body, yet unable to tear his sight away from the vision of seeing her softly twist and turn from the eroticism of her dreams.

Stroking her cheek with one finger, his face became drawn with powerful lust when Buffy softly murmured and turned her face into his hand, seeking any ounce of contact with his body.

It would be so easy to take her, rape wouldn't even be necessary. All he would have to do was...take her. Withdrawing his hand, Angelus came to the difficult decision of allowing her to keep to her dreams. No, he would take her only when she was fully aware of her actions. Afterall, it would make her agony all the more sweet for his ravenous appetite for human suffering.

Lifting her slight frame, Angelus cradled her to his body, delighting when she turned into his chest for comfort. Her body seemed to have no problem recognizing him as her master. It was her damnable human sense of guilt that he had to overcome.

Reaching her room he debated on whether to leave her on the bed or on the floor. Shifting her to one arm, he reached down on lifted the fur off the bed and laid it on the floor. Relunctantly he placed Buffy on the fur. Picking up a few of the candles, he placed them around her makeshift pallet and then with the skill of an artist, arranged her sleeping limbs and her free-flowing hair until he was satisfied with the result.

Standing up he stared at the innocent yet blatantly sensual image she made. A camera. He wished he had a camera to capture this moment. Imagining their eventual physical joining, Angelus knew that he would have to photograph her.

Remembering his original gift, he placed the bundle of ivory tapers on her bed and laid his note with them. Returning back to his own sleeping beauty, he crouched down in time to hear Buffy's aching cry of "Angelus..." Immediately the demon rose within, causing his eyes to gleam ferally with an unholy glow. Hunger beat a fierce staccato in his loins: hunger for the Slayer.

Forcing his instincts down, he lowered his head and gave the merest brush of his lips against her own. It was all that he would allow himself of her. Anything further would undoubtedly make him lose his tenuous control.

Standing up, he reached for his ever-present pen and added another line to her 'love note'. Deciding to leave the house through a door, Angelus took another look at her and knew that all the waiting would only make his eventual conquest exquisite.

His reverie was broken when he heard Spike shift in his wheelchair. Looking back to him, Angelus saw that he was leaning forward with every bit of amusement gone from his expression. In a serious tone Spike asked "What are you going to do about the Slayer?"

Not wishing to discuss Buffy Angelus simply said "She's my problem. I'll take care of it."

"In case you haven't noticed---she KILLS us. That makes her OUR problem."

Coldly staring at what he considered his impudent pup, he silkily asked "Are you questioning me?"

Before Spike could answer a soft feminine voice floated towards them. "Spike would never question our Daddy, would you Spike? That would make you a very bad boy and my Spike isn't bad." Druscilla gracefully floated towards both of them. She was dressed in a bright red silk dress that only enhanced her seemingly fragile figure.

When she reached Spike, Druscilla momentarily paused before walking past him and settling herself on the floor by Angelus' feet. Laying her small dark head against his thigh, she looked off in the distance and dreamily said "We must trust Angel my love. He will do what is best for us. We should never think that he won't."

Reaching out a hand to play with her soft curls, Angelus smugly smiled at the evident jealousy and anguish in Spike's face. "Listen to our Dru, Spike. A beautiful lady never lies."

With a clenched jaw he bit out "Of course. My mistake." He apologized more for the benefit of his love than because of any true sincerity.

Her voice grew sharp as she said "We are finally a happy family again Spike. I want no more fighting between you and Daddy."

Soothingly Spike answered "We weren't fighting princess. We were just...talking."

Satisfied with his flimsy lie, Druscilla began purring from the pleasure of having her hair and scalp stroked. She languidly turned her head, looked up into Angelus' darlky handsome face, and whispered "I know what the nasty Slayer did to you. Will you hurt her for it?"

Twisting his suddenly hard lips in a cruel smile, he replied "Yes darling. I'm going to hurt her for it." Hurt her in a way she will never recover from.

A malicious gleam sharpened her unfocused gaze. Avidly she asked "Very badly?"

"Very---very badly." Already knowing his childe's response Angelus huskily asked "Do you want me to show you how badly Druscilla?"

"Oh yes Angel" she moaned. A hungry feline look crossed her ageless features as she anticipated Buffy's punishment---and her own. Clutching his hard thigh with both hands she pleaded "I want to know how you'll hurt her. Will you show me?"

Gently pulling her up by her slim hand, Angelus stood up and ordered her to go wait for him in her room. She let out a squeal and happily skipped out of the room, totally oblivious to how she had just betrayed Spike. Again.

His pained eyes followed her merry disappearance around the corner. He would never hold anything against his fragile beauty. However, his sire was another matter. Until he was strong enough he had no choice but to tamp down his murderous instincts.

Angelus' knowing eyes read and understood every thought that crossed Spike's face. If he loved Dru as much as Spike claimed to love her, there was no way that he would let a bastard like himself even speak to her. Spike wasn't as direct as he was and therein lay the danger. The silence could only contain a cauldron of evil intent against himself. Spike would strike against him one night, of that Angelus was sure.

No matter, he would be ready.

Until then, he would run a strict household. Meaning any and all infractions would be punished. To his way of thinking, Spike brought it all on himself. He had planned on sleeping alone, but now he would just have fuck Dru until she couldn't walk. That would take a considerable amount of time. Well, never let it be said that he shirked his duties as sire.

Stopping by Spike's chair Angelus laid a hand on his tense shoulder, leaned down and softly warned "Don't ever question me again. I make the rules here, you don't. We'll do things my way, or I'll remove anything that tries to stop me. Got it?"

Barely concealed hatred laced the blond vampire's short tones. "I got the point Daddy." Shrugging Angelus' hand off his shoulder, Spike wheeled himself towards the twisting and turning corriders that led to his room. His sire's hateful, mocking laugher rang throughout the factory.

Turning the wheels of his chair with swift, angry motions Spike silently vowed to make Angel pay for everything he had done to him, but most especially, for taking his precious love away from him.

There would come a time when the Irish prick would be at his most vulnerable and when that time came, Spike would be ready. If his instincts were right, and they almost always were, the bitch Slayer held the key to his vengeance.

The wench would have been dead by now if it wasn't for Angelus' steadily consuming need for her. If there was ever a time that he would have killed her it would have been after tonight's little amusing drama.

He remembered the time in Austria when Angelus had been enamored with the young wife of old aristocrat. For weeks he had pursued and charmed the beautiful lady, attending every social function that she might possibly be seen at. His every impulse had been to be with the lovely Diane? Diana?, it was all he could think about. Spike had been amazed to see him actually try to woo the prim Austrian, instead of trying to brutally terrorize her. Angelus had even spoken of bringing her across, he was so infatuated with her.

One night at a masquerade he had managed to get her outside on the balcony, and had even managed to steal a few kisses from her virtuous lips. Spike himself was rather occupied with stealing a few kisses from Druscilla. The mood had been an unusual one that night; the magic seemed to settle over all of them. He had actually felt as if he were a normal human enjoying the music and the stars with his normal wife.

In the middle of nuzzling Dru's slim neck, he had glanced over to where Angelus was. Or rather had been. Puzzled he looked around the nearly deserted balcony and then swiveled his neck to look through the ballroom windows. His sire was no where to be seen.

Shrugging he bent back to his task of making his love croon from delight, when he felt a hand clamp on his shoulder. Biting back a growl, Spike turned around to see a very bloody Angelus. There was blood around his mouth, on his once-pristine white shirt, and on his hands.

Both himself and Druscilla felt a sharp hunger pierce them as they smelled the fresh blood. Tersely Angelus had ordered them to leave the masquerade immediately and to make ready to leave the city that night. Wisely they had both held their questions and did as they were told.

It didn't take long for them to find out what had happened.

Apparently when Angelus had coaxed his aristocrat out for a stroll in the gardens, he had approached her with his offer of companionship. It was most likely 'I'll show you a world that you never knew existed' 'We will be together forever...' and all that bloody drivel.

Perhaps she didn't fully understand what he was or perhaps she thought him slightly crazed. Most likely she thought he was just another young swain hopelessly enamored with her lovely charms. Unfortunately for her she thought wrong.

Coquettishly she had pondered his offer and then just when Angelus thought that she had agreed, the lady stopped and soundly slapped him in his face. She then stated that why should she leave her rich husband for one such as himself? She could be persuaded to go with him, if he were to prove that he would do anything for her...such as kill her doddering husband. After all, if he cared for her as he seemed to why not do it?

Why indeed?

Angelus told her exactly what he thought of her offer in a way more eloquent than words alone. He simply tore her to shreds.

As Angelus had told him later "It wasn't that she wanted me to kill her husband, that I planned on doing anyways. It was the fact that she felt she could hit me. ME! She would have made a horrible vampire, she made an excellent meal, but as a vampire..."

The fact that he had allowed the Slayer to walk away exposed Angelus' achilles heel to his enemies---namely himself. What he would give to have seen it himself! Spike's malicious smile faded away when he heard a distant cry of rapture. Clenching his jaw in helpless fury he promised to make his 'Daddy' pay dearly for ever touching his Druscilla. Angelus cruelly took Druscilla from him.

Spike would just have to make sure that he took Buffy Summers away from him.

Feeling the strength of his resolve flow through him, Spike hummed a bawdy ditty and waited for the two guards to pull open the double doors. Entering his private quarters he began to make plans for his sire's bloody downfall. Vengence would undoubtedly be sweet.

Buffy and Willow were sitting in class, trying to pay attention (at least Willow was) to their extremely dull third period teacher when a knock sounded at the closed classroom door. Heaving impatiently Mr. Bushy-brows (Buffy's knickname for Mr. Bushrow) trudged over to the door, opened it a crack, and curtly asked "Yes?"

The soft reply was barely audible so Mr. Bushrow irritably asked "What did you say young lady? Come now, speak up!"

Whatever was said satisfied him enough to grudgingly open the door to let a dark haired girl in. Immediately the room erupted with catcalls as the boys saw how attractive the new student was.

Willow leaned to the side of her desk and could only say one word to Buffy. "Wow."

Nodding her head, Buffy had to agree. To call the new student pretty was the understatement of the year. The girl was absolutely gorgeous. Unlike the majority of the Sunnydale High girls who were just plain thin, she was an incredible combination of slimness and voluptuousness. Her hair was an inky black and her slightly slanted eyes were so dark that they appeared more ebony than dark brown. They're darker than Angel's Buffy absently thought. Her beautifully molded features bespoke of a long Spanish heritage as she held herself upright despite the lewd comments flowing around the room.

Mr. Bushrow instructed the new student to sit on the row next to Buffy's. Blandly he stated "Class I want to introduce Cynthia DeVarrez. She's new here, so I'm sure you'll make her feel welcome."

"Yeah, I'll make her feel welcome," one of the resident jock-jerks sitting behind Cynthia leered. "Welcome---to my backseat!" Several boys snickered at the crude joke.

Unused to not being the center of attention when it came to beauty, Harmony came out with her claws unsheathed. "I'm sure it wouldn't take even that---just look at her. She looks like one of those girls who come from over the border. Trash..."

Cynthia just stared ahead of her, a proud tilt to her chin as she ignored the nasty comments floating about her. Mr. Bushrow seemed to be reimmersed in his lecture, so either he did not hear or did not care what was being said.

However Buffy did. "Harmony! Jealous much? If I were you, I wouldn't even try to call anyone trash." Bringing a finger to her lips Buffy thought aloud, "How does that saying go? Oh, now I remember! People in glass whorehouses shouldn't throw stones."

Harmony could only turn an unsightly shade of red when everyone started laughing at her. Quickly rounding on the guy who started it all Buffy attacked. "What are you laughing at? At least Harmony has gotten some...you wouldn't know what to do even if you got someone in the backseat!"

Sputtering he demanded "What the fuck are you talking about?"

In mock sympathy Buffy said "Your little sister let it slip in the locker room. It's okay Bryan. Really, virginity is nothing to be ashamed of. In fact I think it's more common than you realize, so you're not a TOTAL freak..."

Immediately all Bryan's cohorts turned on him. "What! I thought you said you banged..." "A virgin! I knew there was no way..." "Man what a lying punk..."

Desperate to save himself, Brian shouted "She's lying!" causing Mr. Bushrow to sternly say "Quiet! There is to be no talking while class is in session."

Buffy smiled in satisfaction. Her work was done. Since she couldn't permanently rid the world of bigots and sexist jerks, public humiliation was the only option left to her and it was one she hardily enjoyed.

Cynthia turned slightly to the side and calmly looked at her would-be protector, never acknowledging the friendly smile that was given to her, before turning to face the board again.

Looking at Cynthia in puzzlement, Buffy just mentally shrugged. It couldn't be easy coming to a new school in the middle of the year. Especially if you were as exotically beautiful as she was. In fact, she probably would make several more enemies before the day was through simply because of her beauty.

I won't be one of them Buffy silently thought, feeling empathy for the new girl. She too knew what it was like to be trusted and disliked for petty reasons and did not relish that on anyone. Maybe Cynthia was just feeling kind of shy and really wary.

Who could blame her after receiving this kind of reception?

Seeing Harmony's open racism was only one of many reasons to dislike the blonde snob but it had to be the worst part of her character to show through so far. Bryan was no better. If Cynthia had been another blonde haired, blue-eyed girl with a tan he would have still said the same things only he would have said them to his friends. He would never have said it where she could hear it.

It disgusted Buffy to know that those two were probably just an example of the way the majority of the people here felt. Humans will destroy themselves long before the demons get a chance, she sadly thought, and all the work I and all the other Slayers before me will be for nothing. What is wrong with us that we have to feel this way about each other? Why can't humans realize that they have a helluva lot more problems to worry about than skin pigment?

Shaking her head, Buffy tried to throw off her sudden bout of melancholy. She needed to remember that not all people were as ignorant as Harmony and Bryan; people constantly evolved and maybe one day those two will understand how wrong it was to hate to degrade another race.

The passing of time stubbornly crawled by with half the class discreetly sleeping and the other half almost asleep. Except one---Willow. She was the only who seemed to care enough. It was no surprise that her desk was the most visited before test time.

Just before Mr. Bushrow's droning voice sapped the last of Buffy's will to live, salvation came in the form of a bell. Picking up her books, she waited for Willow to finish industrially copying the last of the notes on the board. As the class quickly emptied out, Cynthia unhesitatingly walked over and approached her.

Before Buffy could say hello, the new girl haughtily said "I don't need anyone to fight my battles for me." She then turned away, walking out of the room with pride etched in every step.

Willow and Buffy just stared at her retreating figure. "I guess she's not big on first days" Willow said in her sweet way.

"I guess not" Buffy echoed, strangely hurt by the girl's coldness. Feeling a tug on her arm, she summoned up a smile and laughingly complained "I'm coming, I coming. God Willow, can't we just stroll to class instead of rushing through the halls?"

Later on in the afternoon everyone met in the library, took their seats and waited for Giles and Jenny to come out of small office so they could get down to the business of the Hellmouth. Buffy's mind was on only half of the conversation that buzzed about her as she thought about Angel.

She wondered how to go about finally telling everyone what had been going on for the past week. It was time for her to come clean, especially with Giles. Now that Angel had given her his official psycho status everyone was in potential danger.

Why am I so hesitant about this? she silently asked herself. It wasn't that she didn't believe him, all she had to do was remember her early morning hospital visit to know that he meant every word, it was just...

Just what?

Seeing that her Watcher approached the table, Buffy shoved Angel to the back of her mind. Giles' expression appeared even more worried than normal. Clearing his throat he waited for everyone to become quiet before speaking. "We have a problem here..."

Looking over at Buffy, Xander crookedly grinned and asked "Why am I not surprised to hear that?"

Giles didn't even appear to notice his flippant comment. Removing his glasses he wearily rubbed the bridge of his nose before settling them back on his face. Once more looking over the group of teenagers, he took a deep breath and stated "Buffy will go against a powerful demon and---" At this point he faltered and a look of extreme sadness entered his eyes.

Sitting up straighter, Buffy calmly asked "And what?"

The whole room seemed to hold its' breath while waiting for his answer. Finally he quietly finished with "Buffy will fall." For a few seconds everyone was seemingly frozen with shock before verbal pandemonium took over.

"Define 'fall'!" Xander ordered, standing up and placing his hands on the table, desperate intensity ringing in his two words.

"Do you---do you mean what it sounds like you mean?" Willow softly cried, her pale face striken with a horrible sense of the truth.

"Okay---basically you're saying that Buffy will croak, right?" Cordelia asked in her direct yet offensive way.

"Definitely not a good thing" Oz surmised in his completely unique use of understatement.

While Giles was bombarded with questions, Buffy just sat there. Seemingly she appeared unmoved yet her mind was in a complete whirl. Die? I'm going to die? Again? As it sunk in she was torn between wanting to curl up in a ball and cry, and just catching the first flight to anywhere-as-long-as-it's-not-Sunnydale.

Suddenly a feeling of serenity descended over her and quelled all thoughts of flight and fear. Eventually it was bound to happen, crying and running out of town would do nothing to change it. Buffy had to make sure that she didn't fail her calling before her death. She knew she would face death with dignity as all the Slayers before her surely did.

Funny how I was just thinking about them today and now it's my turn...

Her voice quickly cut through everone else's. "Okay Giles, tell me everything you know about this demon."

"You really think you can cheat death again Buffy?" Cordelia asked, not unkindly.

Looking over at the brunette, she briefly smiled. "No, but I'm going to take it with me. Whatever it wants to destroy, besides myself, I won't let happen. Now, what does it want in Sunnydale?"

Ms. Calendar, perched on the corner of the table, spoke for the first time. "As of now, we don't know much. But here's what we do know..." Hours later, the group tiredly made for their own homes no closer to finding out exactly what the demon wanted. The obtainted information consisted of several obscure prophesies from ancient texts that did more to confuse than to illuminate and many warnings from all points on the globe over the internet, but one thing was dismally certain: all sources agreed that the Slayer would fall and another would be called.

Since Giles announced that he would continue to research, Jenny volunteered to drive everyone home. Buffy thanked her yet declined. "I should patrol and...slay, you know---do what I do."

"Are you sure you don't want to go home and rest? After tonight..." Jenny gently asked.

Shaking her head, Buffy solemnly stated "Tonight doesn't change anything. There are still things that go bump in the night that I have to de-bump."

"I'm afraid I have to agree with Ms. Calendar Buffy. You should go home tonight and, um, allow yourself to become revitalized."

"Look you guys---I'm not dead yet."

"Buffy, we didn't mean to imply..."

"I know Giles. Please, just let me do this. I need to still feel like it's not over for me. If I stop patrolling then it might as well be over. I won't let this prophesy keep me from doing my job."

"Very well, Buffy. I apologize for not understanding." Turning away from the Slayer, Giles waited until he heard them all leave. Walking into his cramped office he tiredly sat down. When would it end for her? When will all the suffering end for Buffy? Even though the life of a Slayer was never one of endless joy, rarely did so many calamities befall one. When would it simply end? When she's dead came the despondent answer in his mind.

"NO!" he shouted in the empty office. In an uncharacteristic display of extreme emotion, Giles swept everything off his desk and watched it all clatter or smash on the scuffed tile floor. Not yet satisfied he stood and picked up his wooden chair, flung it against the wall and watched it break into jagged pieces.

Finally he felt better. Only slightly.

Chest heaving he strode across the shambles and back towards the vacated table. Sitting down Giles opened up a 15th century text. There was no way that he would let this child succumb to death by a demon, prophesy or no prophesy.

Before beginning her patrol Buffy decided to visit the hospital and see how Jeff was doing. Even though she had stayed in the ER for two and a half hours the night before, she had never really gotten a chance to talk him or to even apologize.

Not wanting to go empty-handed Buffy stopped at the tiny, first-floor gift shop to find a 'Get Well' balloon. After looking at the sparse selection stapled at the top of the wall, she finally decided on a bright yellow one. Going up to the register to pay and have it blown up, Buffy thought about what she would say to Jeff.

What could she say to him? 'Sorry about the broken ribs, teeth, and nose---you see my ex-boyfriend really isn't himself this week. It won't happen again.'

"Honey, what color do you want?"

Focusing her attention on the kindly middle-aged nurse, Buffy softly said "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"What color do you want the ribbon to be? We have pink, red, blue, green, or white."

"Umm...I guess, blue." Nodding her head, the nurse dug through a box and in less than a minute Buffy was out the door with a shiny, yellow balloon and on her way up to the fifth floor.

The elevator doors slid open and Buffy paused, unsure exactly where the nurses station was. Seeing it to her right, she quickly made her way down the hallway. Hospitals always gave her the creeps and this night was no exception. The aura was one of quiet, yet unemotional efficiency. Everything was always silent and clean, your shoes always squeaked on floor no matter what sole it had, yet it just never felt right to her. Buffy always felt a subtle tension, maybe even menace, in the air whenever she stepped foot in a hospital.

She just didn't like them.

Reaching the station she asked the nurse on duty where Jeff's room was. Briskly Buffy in turn was asked "His last name?"

Stumbling, she realized that she didn't even KNOW his last name. His face got rearranged because of you and you don't even know his name?! Get ready for some more guilt Buffy! "Um...I'm not sure. He was brought in late last night."

The nurse just stared at her for a second before looking down at her computer screen. "You said his first name is Jeff...oh yes, I see him right here. It's a shame what happened to him! I can't believe the crime in this city!"

Feeling another ever-present stab of guilt, Buffy painedly asked "What room is he in?"

Not looking away from her screen, the nurse pointed and answered "He's down that hall in room 326. By the way, visiting hours are over in thirty minutes." Murmuring her thanks she turned from the desk and started towards the pointed direction.

Gently rapping at the half-opened door Buffy saw Jeff propped up and watching TV. When he saw her he froze and then hesitatingly told her to come in. Immediately Buffy could sense that she was the last person he wanted to see. Can't blame him.

Standing awkwardly just inside the room, she couldn't help but wince when she saw how severely bruised and battered he was. In the hours between last night and the present, his face seemed to have swelled to twice it's normal size until he was barely recognizable.

Remembering the balloon, Buffy came closer and said "Umm, I brought this for you. I'll just tie it to this chair."

"Uh, thanks" Jeff's muffled answer found it's way through the split, puffy lips. He avoided looking at her, staring instead to a spot on the floor.

Knowing there was nothing else to do except say what she needed to say, Buffy spoke in a voice filled with sincere sorrow. "Jeff I know there's nothing I can really say to make you feel better, God knows I've racked my brain trying to come with something, but I'm sorry that this happened.

Still not looking at her, he just nodded his bandaged head.

"I had no idea that you would be hurt---" Buffy rushed out with before abruptly stopping. Liar! You knew there was a chance this could happen! It happened in front of you and all you could do was lay there on the sidewalk while the body of the man you love used Jeff as a punching bag!

Thinking that she was finished, Jeff mumbled some sort of acceptance. Reaching over to adjust his covers, he grimaced in severe pain. Buffy immediately tried to help him when he feebly slapped her hand away. Drawing back from him she had no choice but to listen to his clumsy yet coldly stated words. "Look, if you're here because you're worried that I'll turn you or your boyfriend in to the cops---don't be. I told them that some guy I couldn't really see tried to steal my money. I put up a struggle and got the shit beaten out of me because of it."

"That's not why I came. I just...just wanted you to know that I...I'm sorry."

"Really? Sure Buffy Summers, sure."

"How, how did you know my name?"

"The cops told me. After they told me that you said you didn't know who did this to me."

Buffy had the decency to flush. The night before she had been questioned about what had happened to Jeff. When she had been asked if she knew the assailant, she lied. She hadn't planned on doing it, it was just---instinctual.

Later she justified it to herself by thinking I would've just put more people in danger if I had told the truth. That was true up to a point, but it wasn't the reason why she had lied.

Buffy knew in her heart that she did it for the absurd reason to protect Angel.

"I get it. Thanks for the balloon, but it would be better if we never talked to each other again, alright?"

Slowly nodding her head Buffy turned to walk out of the room. Pausing at the door, she looked back and said "I know you don't believe me but...I'm sorry and I promise you that he'll pay for what he did." Jeff gave no notice of hearing her, so she quietly slipped out of the room and made her way back towards the elevator.

Jeff did hear her and despite himself, he wished that things could have turned out differently. Not only for himself, but for her.

For them.

Stepping into the elevator, Buffy leaned against the wood grained paneling and unseeingly stared at the blinking numbers over the door. The ride down seemed to take forever as the door opened and closed on each floor. People filed in and then filed out. Yet Buffy no more noticed them than she did the flashing yellow lights that her gaze seemed to be fixated on.

All she could feel was futile regret for Jeff. He had been completely innocent until last night. Life's hardships had been no more taxing than mid-terms and having two dates on the same evening. Now he would probably bear the scars of distrust and fear for life.

All because of Angelus and to be honest...

Herself.

Finally reaching the first floor, Buffy stepped out making her way to the large automatic doors and into the cool night air. The night's events were beginning to take their toll on her. Briefly she thought about taking her Watcher's advice and calling it a night, but then the prophesy careened into her mind. She didn't have that many nights left anymore; she needed to do what she could until her time came.

At least there's still Kendra she thought before determinedly striding off towards the cemetary to begin her nightly patrol.

After about two hours, Buffy felt satisfied with her eventful patrol and decided to call it a night. As she headed for home, she realized that she hadn't seen Angel all night. In fact she was rather glad that she hadn't. There was so much on her mind that she knew she didn't have the mental strength tonight to spar with him. Although she was furious enough because of what he did that she could always use a good fight...

Pulling herself through her bedroom window, she immediately felt that he had been there. Shit! I'm SO not in the mood for this! Her eyes widened when she saw what he had left behind: a yellow 'Get Well' balloon just like the one she had bought for Jeff.

Feeling the blood drain from her face she watched it merrily float and tap the ceiling. Numbly she lifted up an arm and pulled it down by the ribbon. Immediately she noticed that the shiny yellow surface was marred by a few dull splatters. Scratching at it Buffy confirmed her worst suspicion: it was blood.

Letting go of the balloon she dove out the window, without thought of safety or without thought of being caught by her mother. Quickly hopping to the ground Buffy desperately ran through the solitary streets in the direction of the hospital.

Her arms and legs pumped furiously, trying to gain extra speed and precious time. Angel could not have done it. Jeff could not be dead. The two thoughts beat into her brain as she wildly turned corners and cut through parking lots, anything to get there faster.

Dread twisting her gut in knots, Buffy bitterly knew that Angel could not have killed Jeff, but Angelus could and WOULD kill him. When will I learn? When will I see him for what he's capable of? she thought as the scenery flew by in blur and her destination came closer.

The muted lights of the hospital came into view at the same time Buffy pushed her body to run even faster. Her shoes crunched noisily on the pavement while she breathlessly yelled to a few people standing near the entrance, "Watch out! Excuse me! Sorry!" The automatic doors had barely opened before she ran through them. A lone security guard called for her to stop but she ignored him.

Reaching the elevators Buffy rapidly pushed on all the buttons in the hopes of causing one of them to open. She let out a cry of frustration because all six elevators remained stubbornly closed. Seeing the sign for the stairwell, she immediately sprinted over and wrenched open the creaking metal door.

Lunging up the stairs Buffy felt an icy dread in the pit of her stomach. Angel did have free access to the hospital and could have easily killed Jeff with none the wiser.

Except her.

Angel wanted her to know, he wanted to show her that she couldn't keep anyone safe from him. Please, please Lord don't let him be dead she frantically prayed.

Finally a door with a large green five appeared as she turned the slight corner. Leaping over several steps at a time she quickly reached the door and flung it open. Resolutely ignoring the stitch in her side Buffy determinedly made her way towards Jeff's room.

From her station the night time nurse saw Buffy and immediately came around from behind the counter to plant herself in front of Buffy. "Miss, visiting hours have been over for some time now---"

Cutting through the calmly stated words she desperately tried to explain. "Look, I NEED to make sure the guy in room 326 is okay---"

Ignoring the frantic words the nurse firmly said "You can come back tomorrow but I have to ask you to leave. Now."

Trying to get past her Buffy stated "I have to make sure he's okay!"

Trying to soothe the agitated girl, the nurse said "He's perfectly fine considering his injuries."

In a rising voice Buffy demanded "How do you know?!"

Ignoring her question she said "Miss, if you really want to help your friend you'll let him rest." Seeing that Buffy wasn't in the least bit willing to do that, the nurse sternly warned "If you don't leave now I'm going to have to call for security."

Buffy, not being to get the image of the bloodstained balloon out of her mind, roughly pushed the nurse out of the way and ran to Jeff's room. Reaching the end of the hall she paused in front of the door.

It was closed.

Steeling herself to what she might see, she gripped the knob and opened the door. What she saw almost made her crumple. There was a battered Jeff, laid out on his back...

Sleeping.

The motion of his rising chest could be clearly seen. Coming further into the room, she could feel that Angelus had not been there. Looking at the bedside chair she could see that her balloon was still cheerfully bobbing.

Backing out of the room Buffy saw the nurse speaking to the security guard at the end of the hall. Thankfully an emergency exit was right next to the room, so she darted through the door, not caring that the alarm just sounded.

Once she was safely away from the hospital, Buffy could feel the bile rising in the back of her throat. She had truly expected to see Jeff's dismembered body lying in the narrow bed. Her breathing became very shallow as she tried to contain the growing nausea.

Her walk became unsteady and she was forced to hold a hand up to her mouth. The evil bastard really tricked her. He was good, but then again he had plenty of practice.

It was discouraging to know that he could so easily manipulate and score over her. It had only been a week of his 'attentions' and she already felt so weary against him.

Unfortunately, she wasn't weary of seeing him, hearing him, or touching him. Angelus beckoned her with such a dangerous allure; she was now cursed with a new awareness whenever he was near. Last night, while curbing the attraction, did nothing to quelch it.

The disturbing dream only enflamed it. Knowing Angelus had heard her cry out his name filled her with such a conflicting need and want. She felt shame, yet she felt an insane relief that he knew. Almost like when you finally let someone know that you like them---you've unloaded the secret and the weight of it.

He'll kill you Buffy. You know how this will end. Fight the attraction, don't betray Angel. Better that you die fighting a full-fledged demon than dying in his arms.

Stopping to throw herself on a park bench, Buffy held her head in her hands. Death. What a solitary and simple word. Death had become her silent companion. It was such an ever-present part of her life. Strangely, she could be told that her death was prophesized to the exact date and she did not lose her composure but when it came to Angel---she came close to heaving her guts.

Taking deep cleansing breaths, Buffy could feel her nausea begin to subside. Knowing that she only had a couple of weeks left on Earth saddened her but perhaps it was better this way. Perhaps the reason why she wasn't going hysterical was because then she'd get to see Angel.

Her Angel.

Insanely, thoughts of Angelus insinuated themselves with thoughts of Angel. Gritting her teeth Buffy flung her head back and stared at the night sky. She wanted to remember why he was so dangerous.

She truly wanted to.

However, she had begun to doubt the depths of his evilness. She began to doubt everything about herself, her calling, EVERYTHING. When she saw the balloon in her room she felt such dread, such a numbing fury. She still felt it.

Now she felt an unreasonable relief. Even knowing that it was folly to think this, she still wondered if Angelus were as evil as he was known to be why didn't he kill Jeff? Last night or tonight? Why didn't he kill HER? He could have last night while she slept.

But he didn't.

This endless madness of self-doubt had her torn between fantasy and reality. Reality was a blood-stained balloon. Reality was being toyed with, being mentally tormented. Fantasy was the notion of taming a beast and being loved by a demon---despite all knowledge pointing to the impossibility of such a notion.

None of it was good.

Standing up, it took an extreme force of will to rein in her wayward emotions. She could not afford to forget or lose focus concerning the prophesy. Each moment that she allowed her thoughts to stray towards him, was a moment that could determentally affect Sunnydale or even the world. Buffy could not be that selfish anymore. Her days were not her own any longer.

Soon, Buffy, soon. You'll see Angel soon.

She only walked a few steps before she heard a familiar drawl. "Hello Buff. Liked the balloon?" Angelus stepped around from a tree and neatly stood in front of her path. Unwillingly Buffy acknowledged that he looked like original sin: beautiful and dangerous. He wore a burgandy silk shirt, his ever-present black leather pants, his black leather duster, and a smirk.

Reminding herself of her new resolve, Buffy merely shrugged her shoulders and managed to sound unconcerned. "You've had better taste."

His knowing eyes bored into her. "If you had only noticed you would've seen that my balloon had a green ribbon, while yours had a blue." Pulling out a cigarette, Angelus lit it and leisurely sucked in a drag before blowing out a perfect ring of smoke. Continuing he wondered "I'm surprised you fell for it. Didn't you expect me to do something like that? I thought you could feel me EVERYWHERE, not just your room. Yet you never knew that I was in the hospital too. Why is that?"

"Don't expect me to enlighten you, it's not part of my job description."

Staring at her for a few moments, Angelus noticed the pale pallor of her face and inwardly smiled. "You made it there in record time Buff. I gave you eleven minutes but you actually got there in nine. That must have been some run lover. I'm impressed that you could run four miles so quickly. Must be all that Slayer speed and stamina. Sorry I made you expend it that way, next time I'll find something more---pleasurable."

"Anything else you have to say?" Buffy rigidly asked. His sexual innuendo made her feel too uncomfortable, partly because of his obvious attempt to needle her---

---and partly because she imagined their bodies joined in a most carnal way.

For only a split-second, but a split-second too long.

"As a matter of fact I do: what did I tell you last night? Didn't I warn you about what would happen if you chose to ignore me?"

Refusing to become intimidated by his sudden shift of menace, Buffy returned with "Didn't I tell YOU not to even talk to me? Why are we even having a conversation?"

"I don't take orders from little girls like you. I'll talk to you or do anything I please to you---"

Buffy just rolled her eyes, shook her head and resolutely walked forward to move past him. She was too vulnerable right now to play any word games with him. Besides she had much bigger things to worry about.

Her blatant move to leave him standing there on the sidewalk talking to himself, moved Angelus to action. Placing himself directly in front of Buffy he spoke in a soft voice of steel. "I'm not finished with you baby. I let you get away with it last night, but you DO NOT walk away from me. Ever.

Her brow rose as she archly replied. "Really? What would you call what I’m about to do?" She took a step to the right but he blocked her way once again. "Angel, don’t you get it yet---you don’t tell me what to do. In spite of the obvious lack of your intelligence, I can’t break it down any simplier than that."

Angelus fought the urge to slap her. The defiant cast of her lovely face goaded him in a way mere words could not. Controlling his violent thoughts, he spoke in a soft, sensual voice that would tempt Buffy’s unwilling mind to give over to him. "Slayer you most assuredly do what I want you to do. Your every action is influenced by me. It always will be. The sooner you realize that, the simplier our time together will be."

Swallowing thickly, she briefly closed her eyes. Once again, he spoke the truth. She could not deny it to herself. Angelus had entangled himself so deeply into her being; he seemed to be apart of all her waking thoughts. Tonight showed how much of a puppet she was, all he had to do was pull a string and she’d react.

How was it possible that a demon could know so much about a virtue such as truth?

Suddenly Angelus was closer. Much closer. His throaty whisper crooned in her ear. "Why fight it so hard, Buff? You want me so badly." Seeing her head begin to shake, he pressed in with "Yes you do. I can smell you baby."

Buffy’s eyes widened in shock before her face became suffused in color. She wanted to deny it, she wanted it to be a lie, but her body betrayed the growing unwanted desire she had for this creature. Numbly she said "It doesn’t matter----"

Angelus moved with the silent speed of his kind so that he stood behind Buffy before she had a chance to react. Placing his hands on her hips, he pulled her body against his so that she could feel the hard length of him pressed against her softly rounded buttocks. "Liar...why do you keep coming back, if not to feed into your hunger? OUR hunger?"

Pulling herself away from him, Buffy spun around only to see he was not there. The tears burned in her eyes, but she stubbornly blinked them back. She was not going to even consider acquiesing to her body’s wants. Come on, Buffy...you do want him. Why can’t you have him, even for only a few weeks---

No! He wasn’t Angel, the man that she still loved. She could not betray his memory, everything they had just to fuck Angelus. Think how good it would be Buffy...it’s still the same body. Your heart will always love Angel, what you do with your body doesn’t count...

"Just say yes Buff and I’ll take care of the rest." Angelus appeared from behind her, standing in her path once again. Stroking the delicate skin of her cheekbone with the pad of his thumb he coaxed her will with his dark promises. "No one ever appreciates what you do around this dump do they? Even when you and Angel found your love, nobody understood did they?"

Bleakly Buffy remembered. No one had really understood or even approved of the time they spent together, regardless of how innocent it was.

"Instead they just pull more and more out of you, not caring or even thinking about your needs, about Buffy’s wants. All they think about is what they want..." His thumb just continued to stroke the same spot until Buffy felt as if all the sensations in her body centered on her cheek.

"How are you any different?" she softly asked.

Pausing in mid-action, Angelus silently watched her before answering. "I’m not. Only in that what I want is infinitely more pleasurable for the both of us than any plans they have for you." Surprisingly she was silent. He expected her to heatedly defend her Brit watcher and her brat-pack.

But she did not.

The lure was set, all that was left for him to reel his prize in. Moving his hand from her cheek, he gently rubbed her full bottom lip. "When will Buffy take what she wants? When will she make her own decisions?"

Buffy felt a sharp longing pierce her heart. Hollowly she exclaimed "I can’t, you’re my enemy---"

"Even so, you WANT me and I want you more than anything else that exists in the cosmos..." Imperceptibly Buffy leaned against his body as she felt her mind draw his words and reasoning in. She did want him, God how she wanted him!

"When will you let us take comfort in each other’s arms? It’s destiny, you can’t fight it Slayer. You were made to be mine..."

It was so tempting. Nearly irrestible.

If only he hadn’t called her Slayer.

Buffy had been seconds away from breaking her resistance towards him, going wherever he would have led her. However Angelus had shattered her compliance with one word. Slayer.

She was the Slayer, no matter what she felt for Angel/Angelus. Hadn’t she just lectured herself that she had to focus on her prophesy and her last calling? Within minutes she had not only forgotten that but she had almost allowed herself to be led to Angelus’ bed, which was only a hop, skip, and a jump from her grave.

Even so, her body still burned for this demon. Buffy forced herself to coldly state "I was made for only one man---Angel. Not you. Never you. I may want your body, but it’s still Angel’s."

Liar! she miserably shouted to herself.

Angelus’ jaw worked furiously at her insult. He had sensed the triumph that had just awaited him. He had sensed and felt Buffy wavering resolve, he knew that she was so close to falling within his grasp. Now her eyes snapped with contempt.

Growling he spat "Give it up Buff! No matter how much you deny it to us both, you want ME."

"No-I-do-not!" His anger lashed at her, making her feel shaken. It also made her feel decidedly heated. She felt the insane urge for him to touch her---whether in anger didn’t not matter to her as long as it was in passion. What is wrong with me? I don’t want to want him, but I still do!

Wolfishly grinning, he refuted her stony words. "Yes-you-do." Her arousal had greatened in intensity during the last few seconds, until it was all Angelus could do to stand there and taunt her when all he wanted to do was rip her pants off and thrust himself into her heat.

While she appeared to have regained her control, their verbal sparring only seemed to enflame her. It was the timeless pursuit of the male and female animal. The male in the role of tireless predator and the female in the role of coquettish prey.

Then she struck with the final insult.

"Angelus I would rather sleep with every member of the swim team than fuck you. You’ll never be half the man that Angel was and you’ll NEVER be as good in bed as he was."

His control snapped and he grabbed her arms in a punishing grip. "Is that so? Why don’t I make a lie out of your words and fuck you over there against that tree, umm?"

"Just try Angel. Go on, I dare you."

"So eager my sweet?"

"Eager to send you home." she replied with saccharine sweetness.

Angelus didn’t respond. Their eyes glared, both locked in silent combat. Buffy refused to acknowledge the pain of his fingers digging deeply in her flesh. It was dangerous to tweak the nose of the beast, so why did she have to taunt him? She always seemed to lose any and all reasoning when she was within 10 feet of Angel. Buffy could not help but feel a flicker of fear at the savage ferocity of his face.

Even so, the fear only enhanced the desire.

If he did take her over to the tree, how long would she fight him before she gave in. She lied to Angelus. She felt in her bones with a knowledge as old as time that Angelus would make her want to die of ecstacy.

His expression changed and became assessing. He sniffed at the air slightly and his taut mouth curved into the smallest of smiles. Angelus knew! Before he could lower his head to her mouth, Buffy twisted out of his grip and put several yards of distance between them. Even though you've been doing a lousy job so far, you HAVE to keep it strictly business Buffy. Remember that he is stalking you. He is going to kill everyone around you and then he’ll kill you.

No he won’t. The demon is going to do it for him.

That last thought sobered her enough to dissipate her burgeoning desire for her enemy. Angelus immediately knew as the heady aroma of her want left him. Staring at his obsession he observed how the uncertain want and confusion melted out of her and became replaced with determination.

Or stubborness, as he saw it.

Damn!

"Even though I hate you Angelus, I don’t want to have to kill Angel’s body. I'm sure you already know that, but what you don't know is that I will do it if you try to hurt Jeff or anyone else again." Her eyes boldly bored into his. "Consider this your last warning."

Snorting he pinned her with an annoyed look. "Do you know how repetitive you can be? Didn’t you just threaten me last night?"

Feeling her composure crack slightly, Buffy shrugged and said "Hey, most vamps are rather slow. How was I supposed to know that you would remember?"

Humorlessly smiling Angelus had to acknowledge the thinly veiled insult. Most vampires WERE stupid. Perhaps it was nature’s way of making sure that the world wouldn’t be overrun with his kind. How inconvient considering they were the first inhabitants.

Caustically he said "Unfortunately I do remember. Doesn’t mean I’ll listen. So why don’t you listen up instead: I was being nice tonight. I won’t again." Lithely strolling towards her he smirked at the brief flash of concern that crossed her face.

"I mean it Angel. Just because I don’t want to have to kill you doesn’t mean that I won’t. I’ll stop you any way I can."

"Really? Anyway umm? There’s plenty of possibility in that Slayer. "

"W-what?" Seeing the lascivious grin, she blanched and then hissed "I didn’t mean that! I meant that I’ll beat you at this. You won’t win Angel."

Tsking, Angelus chided her with "Don’t be so stupid Buff. This is a game I’ve played for centuries, there’s no chance of you winning. Give yourself to me and I’ll play nice. If not..." Angelus let the unspoken threat hang in the air.

"I don’t bargain with the undead."

"Really? What would you call the past week then?"

"I don’t know what you mean."

"Everything that we’ve said and done has been a bargain. I give you things, you give me---your time. I let Halburn live," seeing her confused look Angelus let out a short bark of laughter. "Oh, that’s right! You don’t even know his name. Sorry sweetheart, Halburn is your pup’s last name."

Bristling under his mockery Buffy kept her tightly clenched fists by her side only by a supreme force of will. As she had slowly come to realize over the past week, anger was an intensely satisfying emotion to hide behind. As long as she was furious at Angel she didn’t feel the shameful urges that plagued her.

At least most of the time.

"I let that insolent boy live, you act more---reasonable. Really Buff, I’m not as bad as they say."

"As long as what? As long as we play by YOUR rules? Thanks but no thanks." Buffy flippantly replied.

Heaving a great unnecessary sigh, he mournfully said "Okay, baby. Then maybe you’ll see things a little differently." Angelus’ voice took on a hard edge with his next words. "You ignore me, then all bets are off and we play a whole different game."

"I thought you demons prided yourself on how ‘We don’t have any human emotions! We’re big, bad demons!’", Buffy’s voice had dropped to imitate a man’s deep baritone, "How does the rest of your weak gang think about you having the hots for the Slayer?"

"Oh lover, I have more than the hots for you" Angelus cheerfully said with a leer.

Wanting to push his buttons, Buffy mock- innocently asked "Angel? Do you want to go back to the way it was before? I mean, you could walk me home again and maybe help me patrol---"

Surprise wiped the smirk off his handsome face. "What?" he sputtered.

Cooing she stepped closer to him until her hand rested on his chest. "C’mon, you can be honest with me. I don’t blame you for being what you are, I mean these are dangerous times now, especially for a demon." Cocking her head to the side she said "You really are alot like Angel."

"Angel?!" he bit off in a disgusted tone.

Stroking his cheek she looked up into his eyes and said in a gentle voice "I think there’s so much left of him in you. You don’t have to be what you are. I can help you---"

Buffy immediately whimpered when Angelus brutally twisted her arm behind her back and hauled her up against his chest. "There is nothing left of Angel little girl. Nothing! Don’t you ever compare me to that sniveling, whiney creature!"

"Awww, are you saying that you don’t love me?" she asked with a little whine.

His dark eyes burned with an unholy flame. "Love you? Love YOU?! You pathetic girl! The only reason I even look at you is because you were Angel’s whore!" Angelus didn’t get the chance to finish his tirade because Buffy soundly cuffed the side of his head with her free hand before pulling away from him.

Even though her purpose had been to goad Angel to anger, her heart still bled at his cruelty. However, none of it showed on her face. "It’s good to know where we stand then." Yawning, she said "It’s way past my bedtime and even if it wasn’t, listening to you is enough to make anyone fall asleep."

Angelus made no move to stop her as she boldly walked past him. Instead his eyes bored into her, making her almost feel as if she was feeling his rough caress. His harshly spoken words gave her pause, "You will fall to me Slayer. I will taste your blood and all the angels in heaven will weep. One in particular."

Buffy didn’t turn around to see the expression on his face. She didn’t have to. She could feel his frustration and fury penetrate her, stabbing her with its’ intensity. She made him expose himself, she made him show his true purpose in regards to her and that enfuriated him. She knew it would.

So why didn’t she feel triumph? Why did she feel as if a tiny, carefully nurtured hope had suddenly been extinguished?

You always knew it Buffy. You’ve always known what his real intents have been she silently admonished herself.

Instead she tightly said "Take a number and get in line Angel. I’m sorry to say that this time you don’t have first dibs on me."

Before he could question her, she threw over her shoulder "Oh by the way, there’s going to be a new sherrif in town so I suggest you leave. She won’t be as nice as I’ve been." With those cryptic parting words Buffy disappeared in the darkness, walking away from him once again.

Angelus just stared in the direction she left, torn between going after her and leaving things the way they were. Finally he turned away and went in search of his late-night snack. To say that the night had been a disaster was putting it mildly. At first, things seemed to have so much promise. Buffy had reacted exactly as he had expected her to.

Perhaps more enthusiastic than he wanted, but the end result had been the same.

Remembering the blind panic that contorted her lovely face made Angelus frown mightily. It bothered him that she cared so damn much whether the boy lived or not. Even though he knew that she valued a human’s life more than her own, in fact it was integral to his plan that she did, it still didn’t take the extreme irritation away.

Angelus briefly thought about dumping Halburn’s drained body on her front lawn before dismissing it. The present day was not like the times of before. Now there were too many peasants who made it their life’s work to solve murders and such. If he gave into impulse, it would make things rather difficult for himself and the Slayer.

Stealthily making his way through the twisting maze of back alleyways that were apart of Sunnydale’s seedier district, Angelus thought about the present century he had been thrust into.

In today’s society people prided themselves on their logic, their government, and their technology. They could not fathom the existence of a netherworld simply because afterall, they had cell phones and the internet. Anything that could not be explained by science simply did not exist.

A far cry from the centuries of past.

Superstition was fact and legend was doctrine. Besides God and king, only two things stirred fear in the heart of man: strangers and the night. As soon as darkness claimed the sky, only a crazed idiot would brave leaving his warm hut or inviting an unknown in to share his fireside. For all knew that doing so would surely risk tempting the devil with his good Christian soul.

Or a hungry vampire who had the misfortune of being stranded in the countryside.

Coming out of the alley, Angelus saw the midnight-blue lights heralding a club simply known as ‘The Cavern’. As soon as the burly doorman saw him, he promptly opened the door murmuring "Enter sir." Angelus was immediately assaulted with pounding techno music, hazy smoke-filled air, the sharp smell of liquor, and the myriad scents of sweat, blood, and lust.

Humans and vampires in a perfect enviroment for the indulgement of vice.

The Cavern was a haven for them both. While nowhere near as popular with the Sunnydale High crowd as The Bronze it held far more appeal for those of different views and tastes. The crowd consisted of twenty-somethings and more than a few Sunnydale High kids. It was the meeting place for people who were labeled ‘freaks’. The teens who came here were often ostracized by your run-of-the-mill ‘normal’ teenagers.

The amusing thing was that the same ‘normal’ teenagers eventually found their way here after highschool, emulating the very same people they shunned a year before.

Climbing up the stairs to the second floor, he made his way towards the table that was reserved for the ‘investors’ such as himself. All along the way he flashed a devastating smile to any girl who caught his fancy, yet he never stopped to talk to any of them.

He was more than satisfied that the table was empty, simply because he was in a mood to be left alone. He refused to call it brooding since only Angel did that. I think there’s so much of him left in you... Buffy’s soft girlish voice floated through him mind. She really didn’t believe that did she?

Settling himself on the wide, leather booth Angelus stared over at the large dancefloor filled to the very edges with gyrating bodies. There was a virtual buffet to be had here; young, vibrant flesh in every hue and shape. Vampires freely mingled among them, immediately distinguishable to each other, but never recognizable to humans.

There was only rule here, unknown to the majority of guests, but cardinal knowledge to the owners: no killing.

Here a vampire could come to snack on tasty flesh, perhaps even indulge in more carnal appetites, but that’s as far as it could go. If bodies started disappearing or were found drained of blood, not only would his bitch Slayer try to ‘shut them down’, people would become afraid and simply stop coming.

The Cavern was a form of public assistance amongst his kind. Free meal, no hassle.

Throughout the centuries there had always been at least one form of ‘The Cavern’ in every large city in Europe. It became a matter of necessity during the times when persecution ran rampant and witch-hunts included far more than the few true witches that were found.

These meeting places were formed to lure the high-ranking government officials and nobility to lend their protection through membership. Not that they saw it as such at first. For these idle sanctimonious men, it was an exclusive oddity that belonged for their pleasure. It was a place where the mind and body met and played in the pursuit of even greater titilation.

The vampires gave their guests every and any sordid desire but all with a price. Their guests could hardly draw attention to the establishments without exposing their own dirty little secrets, so it was in their best interests to keep the club off the all lists. So everyone was safe. Even if some guests eventually found out who their mistresses or lovers really were, there was nothing they could do about it.

Nor did they really want to do anything about it.

For once both species were equals of sorts. The vampires drew their sustenance easily and the humans experienced the heady thrill of animal passion, with no one dying for it.

They protected each other. The human patrons eventually became informants and when the occasional raid became inevitable, the vampires had plenty of warning to make their escape. A few who learned what they were took it a step further by becoming THEIR servants during the day, all in the hopes of keeping their vampire lovers safe or eventually becoming vampire themselves.

One of the few humans at The Cavern who knew what his kind were, brought him a chalice filled with his drink of choice. Casually sipping the warm blood, Angelus wondered if the chesnut haired girl would eventually be brought across. Perhaps Evian, her vampire protector, would wish to. But then again, perhaps not.

Losing himself to past musings, Angelus thought about all the cities he had visited during his travels. As soon as he had been turned, he had left the countryside to the peasants and the mice. To have stayed would have meant starvation or even the torment of being hunted down by the rabble.

It was no coincidence that his kind flocked to London, Edinburgh, Paris, Rome, Milan, Venice, Madrid, Amsterdam, and even the jewel in imperial Russia’s royal crown: St. Petersburg. In a cosmopolitan city one could always find people wandering the street no matter the time. Starvation was hardly a fear, unless it was a time of political unrest. Hence, the havens were formed.

His most glorious undertaking had to have been in Russia. His establishment had been named ‘The Jeweled Masque’ because every male or female in service, human or vampire, was given a jewel encrusted half-mask to wear---and very little else.

No expense was spared and the two-hundred room mansion catered to every concievable desire, not all of them sexual in nature, but enough so that nobles poured in from all parts of the empire to be given a glimpse of his hedonistic heaven, or hell depending on the viewpoint, on earth.

All the ones in service were serfs or vampires that had been serfs. At the time Mother Russia placed more value on a soiled shirt than on the life of a serf, yet even so, their lives were not forfeit in the club. Now the serfs on his three-thousand acre estate, were a different story...

Angelus’ lips curved in the tiniest of smiles remembering the human banquets he held in the five-hundred foot long dining hall. Those were definitely the times of an era never to return. He wondered if he was still in possession of the magnificent estate---he would definitely check on it tomorrow.

Then again Angel probably sold it or most likely gave it away as penance for his sins. Idiot.

Angelus stiffened as he caught sight of small female moving through the crowd, before relaxing once more. No, it wasn’t Buffy.

Surprisingly she never had been here. Most likely she was kept in ignorance of its’ existence by her Watcher. While the Council hardly approved of these establishments they saw them as a necessary evil. Anything that kept his kind from killing more of their own was tolerated.

Taking another careless sip he once again wondered at Buffy’s parting words. Did she mean that the other Slayer was going to grace Sunnydale with her presence? Why? Or did she mean that she was planning on leaving Sunnydale?

She better not or there would be hell to pay starting first with the Watcher and all the way down the line through her friends, immediate family, distant family, until he reached her.

His sudden anger vanished as quickly as it appeared. Buffy wasn’t going anywhere, she wouldn’t leave until she felt he was contained or dusted. His reverie about the past slid back as he focused on his present. The twentieth century was a helluva time and he could only be glad that Angel had the decency to step aside so that Angelus could welcome the upcoming millenium...

...and welcome Buffy Summers into his bed.

Resolutely standing up he strolled down to the first floor. Prowling the edge of the dancefloor he scanned the crowd until his eyes met those of a lovely girl standing about twenty feet away. Without a word he walked up to her and led her out to the floor.

The music urged for them to listen and respond to their more baser instincts. Not an inch separated them as they were crushed together by the packed dancefloor. Her scent wafted about him and Angelus could feel more than his bloodthirst respond.

After about ten minutes he silently led her to one of the darkened corridors that surrounded the perimeters of the dancefloor. The music could only be heard as a dull throb here. Several couples were in heated embraces along the walls, hardly paying attention to newcomers, so immersed were they with their own hungers.

Angelus could feel the girl's hesitation so he quickly thrust her against the wall, barely giving her time to let out a cry of apprehension before fiercely capturing her mouth with his own.

Her fear melted into his caress and her lips became soft and pliant beneath his own. Angelus felt her hands clutching his back and he could feel the tips of breasts rubbing against his chest. Thrusting his muscled thigh between her own, he felt the unknown girl writhe against him in search of surcease.

Angelus’ fangs began to lengthen and he felt his loins draw up tightly, instinctively wanting to impale the girl from above and below. She was lovely and so willing, unashamed in her desire. Unlike Buffy...

The thought of Buffy did nothing to cool down his ardor, in fact he became more enflamed. It would be so easy to use this girl in the hallway or even in one of the private chambers upstairs. Why shouldn’t he?

Roughly pulling her skirt up, Angelus ripped away the scrap of silk and felt her willing flesh dampen his fingers. Unbuttoning his pants, he felt the cool air touch his penis before he encased himself in her burning heat. Growling, he quickly made use of the girl. His fangs entered her just as he felt himself get ready to explode.

Angelus tasted the warm elixir flowing down his throat as he spurted inside the girl. Before he lost himself to his pleasure, he imagined that it was Buffy against the wall. He imagined that it was her thighs that he held in his arms, her moans that rasped in his ear, her flesh that quivered around his own---her blood that nourished him.

Pulling back from the sated female he absently pulled down her skirt, adjusted his own clothing and hypnotically looking into her eyes he murmured "You should go over to the bar and ask for a band-aid. You’ve got a scratch on your neck, you must have gotten it while we were dancing."

The girl mutely nodded and briefly stumbled as she tried to get her bearings before walking away. She wouldn’t remember the feeding but she would remember the hazy feeling of pleasure. Whether she remembered the sex didn’t really matter, as long as she didn’t remember the blood-letting.

Normally Angelus felt sated after sex but instead he felt edgy and agitated. He couldn’t deny that thoughts of the Slayer were to blame. Even though he didn’t plan on visiting her tonight, he knew that he would.

Exiting the club, Angelus quickly made his way towards Buffy’s home. So far, he hadn’t been in her home while she was there (unless he counted the other night). Instinctively he knew that he would be pushing his luck; Buffy wasn’t quite ready to deal with him on her own territory. Regardless, she would just have to deal tonight.

He was not in the mood to be denied.

During his encounters with the Slayer all he had done was deny himself. Frankly he was tired of the unnatural self-restraint. The night had been a disaster, but perhaps it could be salvaged. Buffy desired him and loved him, even if only because he was a vivid reminder of his other self.

Therefore the battle was halfway over. All he needed was her undivided attention and perhaps a well-placed threat or two. Not towards any vague unknown male, but someone much closer to her heart like, oh let’s say, her mother?

As he approached her street he thought about her wild flight just a couple of hours ago. Jeff Halburn had been listed in stable condition (more the pity) and was well enough to receive visitors. He knew that she would visit Halburn tonight. In fact he had hoped that she would.

So he had patiently waited by the hospital, waiting for his Buffy to show up. After a short while he felt her before he ever saw her. He had idly wondered if she would feel him, before realizing that she had no inkling of his presence. In fact she had walked within fifteen feet without noticing him at all.

It had irked him that her attention was so focused on the poor invalid that she never knew he was there. Silently walking into the hospital Angelus had seen her in the tiny gift shop. He had waited across the hall in the cafeteria while she took an inexorberant amount of time choosing an appropriate gift.

He had unobtrusively made his way behind her after she left the shop and reached the fifth floor several moments after she was already making her way towards room 326. Unseen by the nurse he had slipped into the room next door where he could hear every word said between the two.

He had heard her make her pretty apologies to the boy and had felt her pain when they were rebuffed. He had heard her promise of retaliation against himself and could not help the chuckle escape his lips. Sure baby, promise him the moon if you need to. You and I know that you have a greater chance at giving him that than stopping me.

He had even felt the flash of Halburn's lust that lingered in the room after Buffy left. That had made Angelus wish he had finished the job last night instead of allowing Buffy to stop him. He was going to go in there and drain the life out of Halburn when a devilishly clever idea struck him.

Q. What was as good as killing Halburn?
A. Making Buffy BELIEVE that he had killed Halburn!

Slipping out of the room he had made his way past the nurses’ station unseen once again, and unerringly made his way down to the first floor. Even though Buffy had already been gone by the time he reached the gift shop, he could feel the incredible aura of sadness that she left behind.

Greedily he drank in her emotions. She was such an emotionally responsive soul. In his opinion, he had only barely touched her ability for pain and passion, and yet he felt as if he were drowning in her emotions. Just how much would she give him when he began in earnest to test her strength?

Everything---she will give me everything and so much, much more.

He had walked into the gift shop and had amiably approached the older woman. "I trust that you are doing fine this evening ma'am. I’d like balloon C-8 please." When he had been asked what color ribbon he wanted he answered with no hesitation "Green has always been my lucky color. Must be because I’m Irish."

At that the woman’s face had broken in a broad grin as she had explained that she too was of irish descent. Politely Angelus had asked what her family name was and from what county they hailed from. When she had told him, he had been hard pressed not to let the surprise show on his face. He thought that he had wiped out that particular branch in the 19th century during one of visits ‘home’.

Apparently not. Smoothly he had replied "I believe I knew a few of your kinsmen ma’am. Lovely family they were, simply lovely." And so very, very tasty.

At that her face had showed bewilderment as she had wonderingly stated "That’s odd. You see, there are only a small number of people in family on the irish side. It seems that the plague killed the majority of them late in the last century, so it’s strange that you met even one much less a few."

Grinning at the oddities in life, Angelus had spoken in a heavy brogue which immediately brought the smile back to her face. "Weeell ma bonnie lass---life’s full of fey things, ya ken?" And with that he had paid for the balloon and left the shop, all the while whistling a merry irish tune.

Finding blood to smear on his gift had been a fairly simple matter. As he had walked through the automatic doors, he swiped a claw down the back of a entering man’s neck. The security guard had turned around because of the sharp prick but Angelus was already gone, only the faint melody of his tune had remained behind.

Angelus had wasted no time to reach the Summers' residence so he could leave a gift for his own bonnie lass. She had been on patrol so it would be no problem to enter her home. He had seen that Buffy’s mother was in the living room, so he had entered through her bedroom window quietly.

Standing in the middle of the room he had let the balloon go to tap on her ceiling. There would be no way for her to miss it. He had only been able to imagine her surprise and shock at the sight of the yellow balloon. There would be no need to leave her a written note, she would more than comprehend his silent message.

And it had worked so beautifully.

He could barely keep up with her on her mad flight to Sunnydale Memorial. When she dashed past the security desk, he had merely strolled in and just as leisurely made his way towards the elevators. The stairwell door had just clanged shut when he calmly stepped into elevator number four.

Humming to himself, Angelus patiently waited as the elevator opened on all floors before finally depositing him on the fifth floor. Buffy had still been arguing with the night-duty nurse as he rushed past them. Even then she had not felt him, not even the tender pat to her derriere he had placed as he sped past them both.

He had felt her steadily growing dread as she finally made her way to room 326. He had heard her slowly draw in breath to strengthen herself to the sight of carnage that surely awaited her beyond the door. Oh this was definitely worth letting Halburn live! he had gleefully thought.

Her shock and relief hit him in a blast of sudden emotion. The sharply ringing alarm sounded a few seconds later and Angelus had heard two sets of feet pounding closer. Making his way out of the room, the nurse and guard never saw him, only felt a slight breeze as he sped past them both and slipped into an open elevator.

The sight of Buffy trying to stumble towards home brought out the animal within. It would be so easy to strike. She was so beautiful and enchanting in her vulnerability. It had all worked so beautifully and she was ready for the taking.

Or so he thought.

His glorious manipulations ended as soon as she opened her mouth. From there on, everything had gone straight to hell. She should have been cowering in fear of him, desperately eager to appease him in any way.

Instead she ended up threatening the end of his existence before calmly strolling away from him. Again.

It was past time his Slayer had been brought to heel.

Nimbly hopping up to the roof, Angelus made move to open the window when he felt an intense, searing heat. Hissing he pulled his hands away from the wood. Looking at his palms he could see that they were burned.

Immediately he knew that holy water had been sprinkled on the wood. Drawing his hand into a fist, he made move to punch the glass in when he saw a large wooden crucifix. Shielding his eyes Angelus moved back away from the window. Even if he averted his face it would make no difference. He knew that the cross was there so the pain was just as intense.

Furiously he checked all the windows and doors to find the same result: holy water and crucifixes. He was firmly barred from her home just as effectively as if she had cast an uninvitation spell.

His rationale told him to go back to the factory and regroup while his instincts ordered him to stay, even if only to watch from afar. He was steeped in the throes of a mind-numbing fury. He could not believe that she had thwarted him so completely.

Landing on the ground, Angelus balefully stared at the lone window wondering if his enemy was asleep or awake. Was she staring back at him, smug in her knowledge of his defeat? Was she standing off to the side, peering through the lace curtains watching him, gloating because she believed she was safe?

Feeling the painful throbbing in his hands Angelus let out a string of curses. The demon within howled. It clamored for her blood and for her final submission. How dare she think herself beyond his power? How dare she think herself untouchable to him?

His lust had deepened until it bordered on madness. He wanted to hurt her. He wanted to fuck her senseless. He wanted to hear her beg for mercy. He wanted to claim her for his own tonight and then he wanted to spit on her grave.

Then he wanted to await her rising, when she would become his for eternity.

He was only a few yards away and yet she was completely out of his reach.

You will pay for this Buffy. You WILL pay.

Making his way across the street, Angelus waited and watched. His eyes never wavered from the lace covered window. Every fiber within was trained completely on one thought: vengeance.

As the hours wore by Angelus felt his hate-filled passion pull and twist within his mind. The Slayer’s voice, scent, face and body raked his memory. He hated her so much. He hated her for denying her need to him. He hated her loving Angel. He hated her for being human. He hated her for being a Slayer. He hated her for locking herself away from him. He hated her for making him wait outside in the cold when he should be in her bed.

But most of all he hated her because he was powerless to leave.

He stayed watching her window all night long until he could smell the upcoming dawn and even then, Angelus lingered wondering if perhaps she would rise early so he could catch a glimpse of her. Finally, he only had minutes to make for the safety of his lair.

Even though he never saw her, Angelus had to be satisfied in that by feeling her presence somehow he knew had she felt him too.

It wasn’t enough but it would have to be---for tonight.

The End

<< back