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

YOU CAN'T ESCAPE WHAT MAKES YOU TRAGIC YOU KNOW
VICIOUS 'CAUSE YOU TO BE
TIME POSSESSED TO PLEASE YOU
WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN
WAS NEVER THE WAY YOU ENVISIONED THINGS
SO DIFFICULT TO STOP PRETENDING
WHAT'S THIS TO YOU ANYWAYS

REPENT SO ALL'S FORGIVEN
- "Platinum" by Orgy from "CANDYASS"

Buffy’s eyes flew open. Her first thought was Am I already dead? It didn’t feel like death, but then again she didn’t remember the first time. Maybe this was the other side. Blinking slowly she thought It’s pretty dark for Heaven...oh shit! I mean, bad Buffy! No cursing allowed! Sorry God, you are there, aren’t you? This HAS to be Heaven right?

Looking up all her eyes could see was unrelenting darkness. I can’t see anything, it’s so dark. God? I think you have a problem with your lighting system here. It’s the other place that’s really dark and flamey...

Shifting her line of vision she saw a tiny flicker. It looked like fire. Gasping she thought Hell? This is where you send me to? After all I’ve done for mankind this is what I get for an eternity? Buffy alternately felt her throat work for a scream while her eyes bulged with fear. I’m not leaving this spot...no way...they’re just gonna have to drag me out of here!

But before she could work herself into further hysteria, Angelus shifted in his sleep. The soft, cushiony feel of a thick comforter rubbed against her bare thigh, making her realize that she was laying in a bed. They didn’t have beds in Hell, did they? Hesitatingly she lifted a hand and touched the downy material beneath her head. Soft yet firm, cool to the touch, yep---it was a pillow. Cautiously she stretched one leg at a time, before stretching both arms above her head. No demons grabbing at her ankles or arms, this was good.

Slowly blinking her eyes she realized that the unrelenting blackness around her had faded into the soft ebony of thick bedcurtains. Peering through the adjusting dimness she realized that the tiny flicker of Hell was in actuality the flicker of an earth-bound fire. Buffy was torn away from the fear of eternal damnation by rapid degrees as she took in her unfamiliar surroundings.

Looking down she realized that she was sharing a bed with Angelus. His arm was flung above his head and one leg was bent, causing the bedsheets to drape across his hips. It was too dark to see much of his face but it looked like it was turned away from her. Rubbing her arms she noticed that the coat had been taken off, leaving her naked.

They had shared a bed.

Oddly enough, something about sharing sleep together seemed far more intimate than what they had done all last night. She could still feel the cold, hard lines of his body against her own warm body. Warm body. Her hands stopped in mid-motion. I have a WARM body. One smothered giggle followed another as she thought I have a warm body! I have a warm body!

A full-blown laugh erupted from her lips before she quickly covered her mouth and looked aside at Angelus. Nothing. He slept as peacefully as the dead. Laughing out loud again, she happily knew without a doubt that she was not one of them---the dead. I’m not dead! Putting two fingers up to her neck she felt her life’s blood beat as strongly as ever. I have a pulse! Sitting up Buffy could feel no lingering weakness dragging her down. In fact she had never felt more vital and alive.

She was so happy she could dance.

Crawling out of the enormous bed Buffy did just that. Happily she skipped about the room, dancing to the music in her head. The music of her heart. The music of her soul. Twirling around and around, her hair flew behind her like a golden banner. Pirouetting on the tips of her toes Buffy lifted her arms above her head and spun like the ballerina she never was.

The marble felt cool underneath her bare toes and Buffy welcomed it. She was alive! Merrily she giggled and spun about until she grew giddy. She felt no shame in her nudity nor did she think about Angelus waking up and seeing her.

She was utterly without modesty.

The heat of the sluggish fire warmed her bare skin when she danced close to it. Giggling she turned her backside towards the fireplace, allowing herself to be heated before skipping away. She wanted to be warm forever. Twirling around and around the room flew by in a blur, but dizziness could never touch her.

Buffy’s euphoria was boundless.

Stopping in front of a painting Buffy cocked her head to the side. It was a riotous display of reds and charcoals. Devils and Angels fought each other in the sky; the visages of both sides terrifying to behold. It dominated one wall, the softly lit lights illuminating the battlefield of the supernatural. Shrugging Buffy thought it was one of the ugliest paintings she had ever seen. Humming a long-forgotten tune, she smiled impishly at one particular scowling demon, or was it an angel?

Oh, who cares? They're all mean and ugly anyways!

Dancing away she giggled at the thought of Angelus getting ripped off on that horrendous buy. She hoped that whoever painted it stuck it him to good. Although how anyone could paint that thing and call it art was beyond her.

Splaying her arms before her, she spied the forgotten bandages. Precisely she ripped each one off, wincing just a bit when the adhesive tore away some baby-fine hair. Hopping on one foot she bent over and peeled off one thick bandage, before flinging it across the room. Immediately she did the same with the other. Buffy let out a happy tinkling laugh when one bandage landed right into the fireplace.

Bringing her arms in front of her again, she resumed her dance. Around the room her feet led her, dipping and swaying in time to the music of her imagination. She was quickly becoming breathless from her giddiness at being alive. She was ALIVE.

The future was inconsequential compared to this moment. Acrymydion and all the shape-shifters of the netherworld could not take away even one bit of joy from her. She had this moment, here right now, which was alot more than she thought she’d ever have again. What else did she need?

Buffy’s lips were parted in spectacular smile when she caught sight of Angelus watching her. Her feet stumbled to a halt while her slender arms were held out in front of her, unconsciously beckoning to be held. She did not hear him awaken nor did she hear him pull back the bedcurtains.

He looked so incredibly beautiful, it was almost painful to look at him. His dark hair was tousled from sleep, yet even so, he looked as gorgeous as when every strand was in place. Unashamedly Buffy ran her eyes over him, noting every detail with a sharpened sense of awareness. Negligently Angelus lounged against the numerous pillows, looking for all the world as a man content with his lot in life.

Beautiful. He is so beautiful. she thought, finally dropping her arms to the side. I could look at him forever. Angel or Angelus...he will always be apart of me...

Immediately she felt a surge of emotion tighten her gut. An indescribable hunger assaulted Buffy; she NEEDED to be with Angelus. Letting out a soft cry she ran to the bed and threw herself upon him. Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair as her mouth greedily devoured him. He responded in kind, as if he understood and felt the same emotions she did. His fingers dug deeply into the soft flesh of her hips and Buffy loved it.

She felt a desire that bordered on madness.

She needed to be his and she needed for him to be hers.

Moving down his body she licked and nuzzled Angelus’ chest, softly purring from the pleasure of feeling him beneath her lips. Several times she bit the muscled flesh of his stomach before dipping her tongue into his navel. Her eyes had a definite feline tilt when she happened to glance up, meeting his own bestial gaze.

When she saw his lips part to speak, she quickly rushed up and covered his mouth with her own. Now was not the time to talk. Now was the time to let her body speak for her. Staring deeply into his eyes, Buffy delicately shuddered from the heat of his unspoken words. She wanted him so badly, it was as if her body no longer had control.

She needed him.

Giving into the urge she bit down on his bottom lip, reveling in the soft groan that he emitted. Repeatedly she nipped the same spot over and over until his hands crept up and squeezed her breasts tightly. Buffy gave a breathy moan from the intense pleasure at this small amount of pain. "Please..."

"Please what?" Angelus growled against her mouth.

"Please...do it...again."

Male triumph flared brightly in his eyes before being banked by a lazy look of passion. His fingers idly traced her tight, little nipples while taking deep sips from her mouth. "Do what?" he maddenly asked. Moving his hand down he squeezed her hip. "This?" His other hand gripped her smooth thigh while asking "Or this?"

Buffy’s eyes fluttered shut and her body arched into his. His every touch stirred an ache that started in her heart and ended in her blood. Without thought she replied "Everything...I want everything."

"Everything, hmm?" Placing a hand on her nape, Angelus pulled her head towards him. "All in good time lover, all in good time." Opening her mouth with his own he plunged deeply with his tongue, kissing her while she writhed on his lap.

She could feel his erection through the luxurious cotton, nudging her bottom insistently. Impatiently she rocked against Angelus, hoping that he would leave off the foreplay and give her what she most needed.

"Tell me what you want Buff...tell me..." his hoarse whisper delicately played upon her body.

"I want you...I want you..." She felt him shift the bedcovers until their bare skin touched.

"Who?" he heatedly demanded.

For a moment Buffy paused, remembering the man she loved. Her Angel, her first and only true love. Angel please forgive me but I can’t...stop myself. I need whatever piece of you I can get. Please try to understand... Pressing her lips against his she savored the taste of him. "Angelus..." she softly replied against his mouth, gripping his cold, strong shoulders tightly.

Immediately Buffy felt the head of his penis nudge her warm, willing flesh. Inch by delicious inch he slid into her while the Slayer gave a low whimper. "Oh yes" she sighed in exquisite pleasure when Angelus gripped her hips and raised her body up and down on his staff. Each time she was lifted up, he gave a quick nip on each of her nipples.

No longer content with the pace Angelus set, Buffy began to rock faster and harder against him. She dug her fingers into the pillows on each side of him, twisting the fabric as she ground herself against him. For several long moments, the only sounds to be heard were her breathy pants and his low moans.

Buffy soon found herself being lifted up and roughly tossed on her back. Angelus loomed over her, dipping his head down to grind his lips against hers. Buffy’s bottom lip split under his voracious caress, causing her to cry out against his mouth.

Greedily he lapped the precious fluid. "You taste so good Buff---all of you." Angelus hoarsely whispered. The vampire did not take his time traveling down her body but instead boldly plundered the sweet spot between her trembling thighs. Arching wildly beneath his mouth, Buffy softly cried out in the darkness. She felt his hand reach up and tightly grab her breast.

Hazily glancing down Buffy’s cheeks slightly pinked even as her hips arched up. Her legs were wantonly spread while Angelus’ dark head furiously moved in a circular motion. Closing her eyes again she felt as if she could absolutely die of pleasure. Her stomach clenched and her legs tightened as the beginnings of an explosive orgasm tore through her body.

Her soft cries filled the air as she shamelessly rocked against her lover’s face. As the last tremors left Buffy feeling deliciously weak, she felt him slide up against her body. His erection pressed into her inner thigh as he brought his lips to hers. She could taste the musky flavor of herself on his lips and it made her incredibly aroused. Bringing up her hands, she laid them on either side of his face, lifting her head off the bed to kiss Angelus even more deeply.

Rolling over until Buffy was sprawled on top, he continued to voraciously devour her. Finally pulling back he crudely commanded in a cold voice "Suck it Buff."

Trembling she stared into his eyes for a few moments before moving down his body. Crawling between his thighs Buffy delicately licked the length of him before enveloping half of him in her tiny mouth. Sucking him softly she laid her hands on the hard flat of his stomach. When she heard him impatiently growl, Buffy instinctively knew to suck harder and deeper.

For several long minutes the room was in complete silence except for the wet sounds of her mouth. Each time that she happened to catch a glance of Angelus she saw the same picture: hard, narrowed eyes and a tight, drawn face. Intuitively she knew that he was again holding back from her, so she would redouble her efforts in the attempt of making him give something. A sigh, a moan, a growl, anything!

Instead he lay there silently while Buffy worked herself in a frenzy. Digging her nails into his cool skin, she attempted to take him deeper only to cause herself to gag. Pulling back she looked up at him and pleadingly asked "What can I do? Please, what can I do?" Distantly a part of her hated hearing the needy note of her voice, the unashamed begging, but Buffy felt a stronger and darker need pushing her.

A need completely foreign yet all the more compelling.

Angelus mockingly smirked at her, looking for all the world like a man suffering extreme boredom. Buffy flinched from the cruelly amused gleam in his eyes, her cheeks stained a deep rosy hue. She did not understand how he could be so passionate, so giving, then---so remote, so inhumanely cold.

A curtain of blonde hair fell around her face as she held her head down. Tears swam fiercely, distorting her vision until she blinked them away. She would not let him see her cry. A dry laugh made her hackles rise as Buffy heard him say "Aww babe, are those tears I hear? It would just break my heart to make you cry Buff, truly it would."

Lifting her head up Buffy just wordlessly stared at him, hoping that the dislike was clearly written on her face. He arched a negligent brow, crossed his arms behind his head, and began whistling a wordless tune. His aura was one of complete dismissal, namely hers. Straightening her shoulders she regally slid off the bed. Head held high Buffy marched across the room, hating the low laughter emanating from the shadowed corners.

For a moment she was uncertain on where to go. She learned the hard way that she couldn’t leave here---yet, but until then? Seeing a partially opened doorway, Buffy boldly walked through it (hoping it wasn’t a closet) and closed the door behind her. The room was pitch-black but she had no problem seeing the switch on the wall. Flipping it on Buffy could see the extent of the room she was in.

It was a small chamber done in burgandy and creme. The furnishings were simple: a low divan and an armchair set against a wall. Frowning Buffy wondered what was the purpose of it. Seeing a panel she inwardly groaned. Not another one of those damn keypads! Walking over to it she nevertheless pushed the button, impatiently waiting for the panel to slide back and silently demand a code.

Instead a door slid open the streaming rays of light beckoning her forward. Stepping through Bufy wondered what lay beyond. Once in she let out a sigh of wonder. It was a mausoleum of a bathroom or more likely, a bathing room. Until now Buffy never knew the difference.

Coming further into the room she looked around in awe. The sound of water was everywhere and already so soothing to her spirit. Looking to her left she heard gurgling from the small fountains in the wall, the basins painted a deep turquoise blue. Dipping her fingers in the cool water Buffy sighed with pleasure.

Looking up she saw that the majority of the ceiling was covered with skylights. Buffy assumed that it was the same glass as in the living area. It let in the soft harmless light of the sun, perfectly illuminating this place of water and tile. Intricate mosaics depicted the treasures of the sea on the floor while the walls were tiled in a soft blue.

Across the room a large, raised rectangular tub? pool? subtlely invited her to splash in its’ depths. Further behind that in the corner, the biggest shower Buffy had ever seen sparkled with gleaming glass and highly polished brass. Off to the side she saw an enormous painted armoire; it had to have stood at least eight feet tall. Near the fountains a double-vanity held neatly contained bath supplies.

It was so wondrously beautiful here and unlike anything she had ever seen of Angelus. She had never even really thought of his bathroom, but if she had, she would have imagined black marble with impersonal silver accents. Not this virtual Eden where there was so much to see and so much to enjoy.

A small circular pool partway encircled by lush green foliage caught Buffy’s attention. Coming to the edge of it she saw large, bespeckled goldfish swimming in the depths. Kneeling down on the cool tiled floor Buffy trailed her hand in the water. Several fish eagerly came by to nudge her hand. The foreigness of the cold scales sliding beneath her fingertips felt strangely pleasant.

Sighing Buffy looked up at the large tiled mirror across from her. She was half-way surprised at seeing it’s presence here but then again, she really wasn’t. As she was learning, Angelus was a demon of many parts, some surprisingly human.

And others completely fitting to the demon within she thought as she again remembered his cruelness.

The reflected image almost looked like a stranger, but no---that was her blond hair, her chin, her swollen mouth. Even to her non-prejudiced eye she had to admit that she positively glowed with a new loveliness. Despite the lack of sleep, the journey to the edges of death, and several intimate encounters she looked almost etheral.

Instead of feeling vainly pleased, Buffy felt uneasy. She never looked this good without makeup. Hell---she never looked this good WITH makeup! Mirthlessly laughing Buffy wondered what else would come of this liaison with Angelus.

Angelus.

Away from him, the previous insistent urging faded, leaving her feeling lonely and bereft. After his coldness how could she feel this way? Shrugging the disturbing feelings aside with great effort, Buffy recalled the earlier madness of the morning. Something happened to her, but what? There was no doubt in her mind that her body had been changing, but she had thought it was because she was dying.

Staring unseeingly ahead Buffy thought of her present circumstances. She was alive, playing with the fish, and in no feeling anything near death. So what had happened?

Beyond that, how would she handle this situation with Angelus and the rest of her short life? Could she successfully keep the two seperate? It would be folly to think that somehow the two could converge. She could just imagine it:

Willow, Xander? You remember Angel, well he now prefers to be called Angelus, but anyways! I’m now sleeping with him. No, don’t worry. I’m only doing it because he threatened to burn all of you to death. I’ll be fine, really. It’s not like it’s a chore, actually it feels pretty good. Can I trust him? Well, actually no. I still don’t think that he’ll keep his word---what was that? Then why did I fuck him? Umm, well because I KNOW that if I didn’t, you would all be pretty well-done...

The fish continued to swim by her hand, insistently nudging it with their slippery forms. Suddenly she felt a hand run through her hair, even though the image before her only reflected herself. Whipping her head to the side Buffy saw Angelus standing, fathomlessly looking down at her.

Her eyes were narrowed in distrust as he knelt beside her, even as she felt pleasure at seeing him again. In his hand, Angelus held a glass container which he proceeded to open. Tossing a handful of multi-colored flakes into the pool, he then closed the small jar and set it down on the floor. Buffy looked away from his chiseled profile and watched the fish dart to the surface, happily gulping down the food. "They were hungry" was all he said as he stood up.

Holding out a hand to her, he silently waited for her to grasp it. How could he just come in here as if nothing had happened? Searching his face, Buffy could see none of the derision and hate. Instead Angelus appeared to be remote and distantly polite. Unstable. There could be no better description for his behavior other than that eight-letter word.

He is so unstable and yet here I am---naked at his feet.

Several moments passed before she grudgingly placed her slim hand in his much larger one. Fluidly she stood up while thinking What does he want now? Even as her mind cynically awaited his actions, Buffy could feel a fist close over her heart.

My God, it’s already so painful being with him, but it feels even MORE painful being without him. I know that he’s not Angel, I know I can’t trust him, I KNOW nothing good can come of this---I know it all and so much more! So then why am I happy that he came in here? Why am I hoping that he came here because he feels bad? Why do I pray that he's sorry?

Buffy desperately hoped that none of her feelings showed nor the steadily growing desire that caused her every muscle to tighten. Risking a glance up, she observed the quickly masked calculating gleam in his ebony eyes. Well put a scratch through Angelus feeling bad she stonily thought.

Avoiding his seeking gaze, she feigned interest in the grouping of plants near her ankle. After another moment, she felt him give her hand a tight squeeze. Still not saying another word, Angelus gently tugged Buffy away from the tropical ferns and drew her further into the room. She expected him to lead her to the tub but he just walked past it. Unbidden Buffy had a brief vision of the two of them in the miniature pool.

Open-mouthed kisses...sharp nips...slippery bodies...deep thrusts...rough caresses...warm water...

Coming back to herself, Buffy felt the fist move from her heart to other parts. Her breath came out as a few jagged gasps before she forced control upon herself. Think other thoughts Buffy. Think about...homework...YES!---homework! Think about tests and, umm, oh English Lit! Whatever you do, DO NOT think about that pool of sin!

Perversely Buffy looked over her shoulder at the pool of sin and was again assaulted with wicked images. Softly groaning she chanted to herself PBS...Nature Shows...anything on CBS...think Buffy think! Watching paint dry...a study on fossils...

Her control barely hung on by a thread as she helplessly noticed countless things at once: the way he smelled, the feel of his cool hand in her warm one, the tiny hairs on the nape of his neck, the way the tattoo on his shoulder moved with each step. Her tongue begged to taste the smooth flesh of his back, while her hands tingled from the urge to roam his entire body.

Thankfully, Angelus finally stopped her before the shower, opened the door and silently ushered her inside. Turning around she saw that he closed the door and promptly walked away. Looking through the clear glass, Buffy saw him make his way towards the vanity. Staring at the lines of his nude body, she felt the heatedness of her blood call to him. Clenching her eyes shut, she felt her stomach tighten almost painfully as the torturous need finally overtook her.

This went far beyond simple desire. It had to be. Angelus had stoked her innocent passion countless times the night before, yet nothing she felt last night could even come CLOSE to this silent agony. Buffy ached with a wordless pain in her heart, in her blood.

Always it seemed to end right with her blood.

It beat with every pulse, every thud of her heart, every contraction of her veins. Buffy soundlessly moaned with the hunger of it. The need was so great, so endless, so devastating. Her insides clenched with the incessant drumming of his name.

A primeval shout from her blood demanded that Buffy cleave herself to Angelus. To become one with him, to turn herself inside out for him, to become anything for his pleasure.

As she saw him come closer to her, she was torn between the insane desire to barricade herself in and to beg for his carnal mercy. To beg for his touch, to beg for his possession, to beg for his honor.

Beg from the creature who knew no such thing.

Wordlessly she stepped back and turned away when he opened the door. Wrapping her arms around her waist, Buffy took deep breaths that shook her slender frame. She could feel his every movement even though he had yet to even brush past her. Tensely she waited while she fought to control the tremors that pulsed throughout.

At any instance Buffy expected Angelus to taunt her with her obvious arousal. She felt a moment of wrenching shame. He could purposely wound her and still she could want him? Shuddering she tried to free herself, free herself from the unearthly calling of blood.

Biting her lip until it bled again, Buffy swallowed thickly. The more she tried to deny her urges, the stronger they became. As one her heart, her body, her BLOOD railed against her, promising an even greater vengeance than one Angelus could devise. Flinging her hair out of her face, Buffy realized that the longer she denied herself, the less likely she could control herself.

Helplessly she was drawn to watch this unnatural perfection of man. Out of the corner of her eye, Buffy could see him walk to each shower head and flick a switch. Instantly a powerful gush of water poured out of each. By the time Angelus was done, she was being pelted from four different directions. Gasping from the heat of the water Buffy finally raised her face and saw him leaning against a wall. In a trance she watched the water flow over the hard lines of his flawless body.

Her blood gathered and hummed throughout, rushing to all, hysterically bubbling and frothing with the beat of his name. Looking at his face, she could see him watching her with hooded eyes. My God he is so beautiful. So achingly beautiful...

Oblivious to everything but this moment---she watched him watch her.

Buffy’s fingers itched to comb through the soaked hair surrounding his penis. Inwardly groaning Buffy remembered how he felt in her mouth. So hard, so smooth, so very cold. Traveling up his body she could see it losing its’ customary paleness, instead taking on a slight pinkish hue. He almost looked alive. Looking up into his face, Buffy felt a jolt go through her. The painful need twisted her body and left her shaken.

The change.

When a vampire brings a victim across, there is an eternal link between the two. The duty of sire and child are constant and ever-present. The sire will always hold authority and the child will always submit.

The Watcher’s long-ago spoken words rang in her mind. The change. This morning’s events showcased an entirely different meaning now. Her body had been changing, fighting itself, fighting the disease that was vampirism. It succeeded.

Partially.

She may not be a vampire, but because of the exchange of blood, Buffy realized with horror that Angelus held that eternal bond with her. Or rather, if her Watcher’s words were true, she held an inherently submissive role in regards to Angelus.

If only she hadn’t drank from him...If only she hadn’t come here...If only she hadn’t slept with him...If only her friends hadn’t lied to her...

What was that saying? If IFS and BUTS were candies and nuts, Christmas would be here a whole lot sooner. Well Merry Christmas Buffy, Santa brought a special gift for you: lifetime commitment without the courtship. Before her eyes she could see Angelus’ erection grow in size while his speculative gaze turned hard with desire.

Swallowing thickly she felt her body burn with discovery. The blood inside her clamored for release, begged to nourish the demon and receive satisfaction. She could actually feel her healed puncture wounds pulse with acknowledgment.

Buffy’s throat worked as she felt a rise of nausea assail her. How could she be so weak? Supernatural circumstances aside, she was supposed to be stronger than this! There was no way that she could continue like this: torn between her humanity and her unnatural passion.

But look at him Buffy. LOOK at him. He wants you so very much and he always has. And you know it because you feel the same. Here he is with YOU. What’s done is done. Where’s the harm in giving in?

Is this what fledglings feel for their sires? No wonder they were so weak, so easy to stake. If they felt any degree of helplessness like this, they couldn’t leave the side of whatever bastard made them.

For the first time, Buffy actually felt pity and compassion for the things that she destroyed each night.

Along with her compassion she began to feel helpless rage against the handsome monster named Angelus. Curling her hands into fists, she wanted to pound his face into a pulp. It was impossible! She could not feel this THING for a vampire! She could not permanently feel so desperate, so needy for the creature before her!

Her body, sensing the mutiny of her thoughts, fought against her, washing her with raging desire. Gasping for the force of it, Buffy valiantly fought against IT. IT be damned! She was not going to be controlled like this! Giving an inarticulate cry of rage Buffy rushed Angelus. Hitting him wherever she could reach, she yelled "Bastard! You had no right to do this to me! No right at all! I hate you, do you hear me?! I hate you!!!"

Snarling Angelus attempted to block her blows---and failed. Their fight became a blur of shadows as she unfailingly connected with his artificially warm flesh, while Angelus unsuccessfully dodged her fury.

I may be weaker but then so are you. You can’t stop me vamp she thought, never realizing the speed and accuracy with which she moved.

After one particularly sharp blow to his cheekbone, Angelus lost his patience and let the demon loose. Morphing he all too easily captured her wrists and slammed her body into the wall, leaving her feet dangling in mid-air. Disconnected Buffy thought I guess he can.

"You hate me? What do I care? You think this is a relationship Slayer? Let me clue you in: it’s NOT. I will not tolerate your spoiled, bad behavior nor will I tolerate you hitting me when you feel like it. Either behave or get out of my sight, but you WILL not act like this again. Do you understand?"

Despite his furious words and her own enraged emotions, Buffy could feel her body call to him. "Whatever."

He gave her a slight shake he roared "Don’t give me your whatever! Do you understand me?!"

Ignoring the iron grip he had on her arms and the furiously spoken demands, she yelled "You should have left me alone! I would’ve been fine. But NO! You had to---"

"To what?! Let you die?" Letting out a short chuckle he pressed in with "Then where's the fun, Buff?"

"I wasn’t going to die!"

Mirthlessly laughing Angelus said "I’ve given the gift of death too often to NOT know what it smells like. You were hanging on by a thread little girl. I saved your worthless life Buff, but you can’t thank me can you? I mean the least you could’ve done is given me a blow-job---"

With a distinct bite to her tone Buffy boldly interrupted with "I WAS until you acted like an asshole."

"Is that what you called it? It sure as hell didn’t feel like it babe. Haven’t you ever learned how a man likes to be sucked?"

"I’ve never done it before. You were my first" she rigidly informed him.

"Really?" Giving a long-suffering sigh Angelus asked "Is there nothing you know? With a mouth like yours I would’ve thought that you would’ve learned how to suck a man dry, not just scrape him with your teeth."

Her feelings were so effortlessly trampled on by him. Buffy could feel the cursed tears sting her eyes. Seeing his gloating expression filled her with such a fury. Angrily she spat "Let me go now Angelus."

He observed her flushed cheeks and shiny eyes with such unabashed pleasure. He simply denied her with "No."

"You have no right---"

Growling against her ear he stated "I have every right to do what I please with you, Slayer. Like I said before: what was Angel’s is mine and what is mine STAYS mine. You belonged to me every since the day you were born. You just never knew it."

Heaving against him, Buffy lashed out with her foot. "I belong to no one! NO ONE!"

Not even bothering to argue, Angelus reverted back to his human visage. With his blunt teeth, he latched onto the wet skin of his previous mark. Biting her neck until she moaned aloud, Angelus pulled back and looked into her tumultuous gaze. Rage, pain, and desire battled in the clear, changeable depths.

"You already feel it, don’t you?" Nodding in a self-satisfied way he continued "Don’t bother lying to me Buff---I can FEEL your emotions."

Shaking her head she shakily cried "N-no!" Then in a stronger voice Buffy vehemently denied him with a resounding "NO!"

Spitefully he continued. "If it’s any consolation to you: I hate it too. Now you’ll always be dodging my heels, begging me to fuck you---I’ll never get ANY rest. Truly Buff, how embarrassing do you think it will be for me when you tug at my sleeve and weep because I leave you?"

A red haze of fury clouded Buffy’s mind as she broke out of his grasp. Immediately she powerfully back-handed him. His head barely moved from the blow. Surprise marred her features. He should’ve been on his knees with that one. The water continued to pour over both of them while they were locked in silent battle of wills. Suddenly Angelus returned the favor. Buffy’s body flew back against the shower wall.

Before she could react, he had her pinned against the warm tiles. One leg was hooked upon each forearm, leaving Buffy completely stretched open. Simultaneously he brought her down on his cock while biting down on her neck. Brokenly she cried aloud from the immense pain and...

...the sinful, hateful pleasure.

Her conscience fought against this. She had to fight against this. Angelus’ intents were those of rape and domination. The rape of her soul and the domination of her spirit. Yet knowing this, KNOWING this, her traitorous body wept with joy. The hands that had been curled into fists quickly relaxed and became little claws that dug into his shoulders. Hoarsely she moaned as he sawed in and out of her body.

A roar of blood beat fiercely within her ears. The girl known as the Slayer lost. The hidden part of every woman known as Eve won. She won her mate, she won the destiny that kept her with this godless vampire.

Clutching him against her, the woman/child silently thanked IT, without realizing she was doing so. Feeling the warm skin beneath her fingers she wished for the coldness to return.

IT was primal.

IT held her tightly.

IT gave her to Angelus.

Her protests now seemed a distant and foreign thing. Her body had what she most wanted, regardless of what her mind told her. This is where she belonged, with him. Her lover, her life, her very death. No matter what the girl known as Buffy the Vampire Slayer felt or thought.

The serpent in the garden surely rejoiced at the blasphemy being committed in the steam-filled shower.

She shrieked aloud when Angelus loosened his bite and hotly ran his tongue along the rim of her ear. IT felt so gloriously good. He seemed to know what she wanted before she ever did. Her body was attuned to his that it felt like immoral perfection. Mindlessly she chanted his name even as Angelus repeatedly slammed her down upon him.

No longer content with being passive, she began rocking her hips, as much as she could, against him. Angelus recognized her silent submission and loosened his tight grip on her legs. His hands moved to cup her bottom while she wrapped her strong legs around his waist.

Searching for his mouth she gave a moan of pleasure when his lips met hers. Greedily she sucked on his lips and tongue while arching against his body. Buffy began to easily move against him, mewling from the flood of pleasure it gave her. Her every sense was heightened to a degree that bordered on over-stimulation.

Flashes of memory and images sped through her mind while the serpent pumped its’ addictive venom throughout this savage paradise.

Angel. Angelus. The passing of her virginity. The storm. Willow being held by Angelus and the pain it caused in her heart. The Judge. Silence. The blonde in the cemetery. Angel. His fingers. Release. Angelus. Lies. Death. Life. Leather pants. Violets. Strawberries. Jewelry. Jeff. Blood, so much blood. Angelus. Angel. Candlelight and roses. Acrymydion. Hospital. Balloons. Fighting. Angelus. Holy water and crosses. Hate. Silence. Spells. Storm. Angelus. Betrayal. Surrender. Fear. Angelus...

The force of Angelus’ thrusts slammed Buffy back into the wall. When her head connected with the wet tile, an image stabbed into her brain, causing her to gasp. In her mind’s eye Buffy could see the gentle smile of Angel. The world fell away into a white void while she walked towards him. Placing her hand upon his arm Buffy felt a jolt of love so intense, so incredible it bordered on mystical.

Angelus’ arm supported her weight while the other tunneled through her wet hair. Roughly pulling her head back, he ground himself against her soft form. Angel gently held her while telling her with his beautiful velvet gaze how much he loved her. She tried to speak, to tell him how much she loved him, still loved him despite this betrayal. He serenely smiled before stepping back and turning away.

As Angelus continued to bruisingly pound her against the wall, Buffy’s eyes swam with tears. Holding a hand out to him she silently screamed his name. She could see Angel so clearly: every line in his white linen shirt, every strand in his ebony hair. As if he heard her wordless pain, he stopped and looked over his shoulder. Angel gave Buffy a look so peaceful and so loving that her heart contracted from the perfect beauty of it. He gave her a farewell smile before turning away and walking out into the void.

Heartbroken Buffy sobbed. She laid her head against Angelus’ shoulder and let the tears mingle with the shower water until they blended as one. She had daydreamed of Angel many times, remembering the bitter-sweet memories of the past, but never had anything been as vivid as this. He had been so real, so tangible.

So very much there with her, at least in her mind.

Before she could grieve any further her thoughts took hold of her once more. She could see blood and the night. She could see the sun and the moon combine until they were halves of one whole. She could see a nameless, faceless black smoke curl about her. She could see the martyred visage of Christ as he looked down from the cross.

Distantly she could hear Angelus growl in her ear, demanding her submission. Giving a feminine cry of surrender she felt him drag her down to the floor. Wrapping her legs around his lean waist, Buffy cried aloud from the force of his thrusts. The visions still assailed her in broken fragments.

Stained glass laying shattered at her feet. Angelus. Anger, such tremendous anger. Blasphemy. Rage. Pain. Abandonment. Salvation. Lies. Terror...

Wordlessly she arched against the vision. Angelus held himself above her, relentlessly impaling her over and over again. In a flash of blinding pain the world disappeared, leaving Buffy all alone. She screamed in the void, she screamed the only name that came to her: Angelus. Angel was gone, he came to her only to leave again. Angelus was what was real. He was the one who was here.

Over and over again she screamed his name, even as the blind panic melded into the most mind-numbing ecstasy of the body. In a flash Buffy returned to her present. Angelus’ features were tight and drawn with unfulfilled desire. The hot water dripped onto her face as Angelus still held himself above her. Spreading her thighs even wider, he resumed a steady and hard pace which left Buffy gasping in burgeoning desire.

Her blood riotously danced for his pleasure, willing her to plead for his unnatural kiss. Shaking her head from side to side Buffy fought against it. She was terrified of what could happen even as her lips wanted to whisper the words.

Looking up into his face, she watched with fascinated horror as Angelus shifted to his demon. Startled Buffy scrambled from underneath him only to have him flip her over. Feeling him enter her from behind, she let out a frightened whimper. His heartless laugh echoed in her ear even as she felt him scrape his fangs against her neck. "Please don’t" she whispered, unconsciously bowing her head and exposing the vulnerable flesh.

"Too late lover, much too late" he ruthlessly replied. Holding her hands down with his own, his hips worked in a quick rhythm. Relentlessly he sought the ecstasy of release. The aroma of Buffy’s fear and desire filled his senses while her blood hummed for him. He knew it as surely as he knew the body beneath him.

Just as his orgasm began, Angelus buried his fangs on the side Buffy’s neck. She let out a high-pitched cry as her body shuddered from another orgasm. Tears streamed down her face as she felt the shame of this unholy pleasure tear through her. Wickedly her blood and body rejoiced as her lover deeply drank from her.

Angelus’ fangs released their deadly hold while his hand turned Buffy’s face towards him. Covering her mouth with his he deeply kissed her. Buffy could taste her blood as their tongues slid against each other. Inwardly she recoiled even as she continued to kiss him back. Finally he released her and slid out of her body.

Bonelessly laying on her side, Buffy watched as Angelus walked under a spray of water. Casually he washed himself, completely ignoring her. Forcing herself to her feet, she weaved slightly before finding her balance. The rush of her blood slowed, the primitive call’s echo faded, leaving her feeling ashamed and confused.

Touching the side of her neck, Buffy could feel the punctured flesh heal beneath her fingers. What exactly was she now? Still human but maybe a better Slayer? Yeah right. In whose eyes Buffy? Absently looking about her she realized that she noticed everything with a sharpened sense of clarity. Turning towards the door Buffy looked through the foggy glass. A plant by the fish pool caught her attention. Intently she traced the veins of a tiny leaf with her eyes.

The plant was at least 15 yards away and the leaf was no bigger than her pinkie nail.

Looking down at her hands she could see that her skin glowed with a new vitality. Holding one in front of her she could see every detail---every line, every tiny pore. Closing her hand in a fist she sensed an incredibly increased strength. It grew and hummed until there not one part of her that went unnoticed. Pure power flowed throughout Buffy---every breath, every twitch shouted it.

Instead of feeling supreme, her confusion only grew.

Glancing back at Angelus she could see him with an even sharper vividness. The longer she looked, the more she became suffocated. He filled all of her senses until she was drowning in him. His scent and taste became HERS. Mutely she could feel her body call to him.

Nothing. It was as if she wasn’t even there.

Ignore him too. Taking her cue from him, Buffy walked over to another nozzle and hurriedly rinsed him off her. It’s all in your mind Buffy. Once you’ve washed, you’ll be okay. Looking around she saw a bar of soap in the wall recess. Lathering her body with the fragrant soap, Buffy forced her mind into a state of numbness. Concentrating on each movement she soon finished with her shower.

"Get out."

Startled Buffy looked over at Angelus. "W-what? Get out of the shower or get out of here?"

"Both."

Not even looking at Angelus, she padded over to the door and left. Fine by her. The sooner she got out of here---the better. She didn’t want to be here anyways. Although there was a part of her that felt a tremor of pain at being dismissed so easily...

Shivering in the cool air, she rubbed her arms as she left water puddles in her wake. Her eyes searched the room. Nope, no towels in sight. Looking at the enormous armoire she quickly walked over and flung open the doors. Row after row of thick, fluffy towels greeted her sight. Wrapping herself in aqua cotton, Buffy quickly strode out of the bathing room.

Emerging back into the dark chamber she let out a long breath. Angelus just did her a favor by letting her go. So why did it feel like a punishment? God Buffy! You are so FUCKED in the head! Dropping the towel Buffy looked for her clothes. Remembering the morning she wandered back into the main room. Seeing her pile of clothes she quickly walked over to them.

Lifting each article up she saw that they were hopelessly torn beyond even temporary repair. Feeling a shift in the air Buffy turned around and saw Angelus. Her mouth went a little dry at his casual beauty. Her traitorous blood stirred, forcing Buffy to look away.

But she still remembered. He wore a crimson robe with gold trim that suited his dark looks perfectly. Toweling his hair dry he glanced in her direction and rudely asked "You’re still here?"

Stiffening she looked up and gave him a look of pure dislike. Sarcastically she stated "Gee Angelus, I’m SO sorry but you see I have a little problem."

"What?" he boredly asked while seating himself on the piano bench.

Unceremoniously Buffy pointed to her shredded clothes. "I have nothing to wear because of you."

"So."

Standing in the middle of the cold, dark room Buffy lost her temper. "What do you mean so? Didn’t you hear me? I have NO clothes to wear. Nothing. You tore them off me, remember?"

"And?" he asked while perusing through the neat stack of sheet music.

Taking a deep, non-soothing breath Buffy felt the urge to strangle him. Angelus was purposely being obtuse and obnoxious. What did he want from her? Did he want her to beg? Well he was bound to be disappointed.

Looking up at the ceiling for a few seconds she counted to five. Okay Buffy, don’t lose your cool You know he gets a kick off of that. Act like you don’t give a damn, you know he hates it.

Looking back at Angelus she saw that he was still reading the music. Without looking up from his task, he ordered "Catch" and threw something black at her. Automatically her arm went up and caught the airborne object. It was his leather jacket. He didn’t have it when he walked in from the shower, so how...?

Mentally shaking her head Buffy did not want to think about it. All she wanted to do was go home. Preferably not in just a jacket. Was this all she was to wear? Clearing her throat Buffy asked "Can I borrow something a little more concealing than this?"

"No. Be glad that you have even that." Selecting a sheet, Angelus carefully placed it in position and began playing the opening chords.

"Fine." Jerkily she slipped it on and furiously worked the buttons closed. Without even seeing herself in a mirror Buffy knew she looked like she had just crawled out of someone’s bed. Maybe if she ran home nobody would see her. Then again, maybe EVERYBODY would see her. One thing at a time Buffy, one thing at a time.

Finding her shoes she worked her feet into them and stomped up the stairs. Walking through the splintered doors she remembered the keypad. Damn! Oh, but she did bust it wide open so maybe she could still shimmy her way down...

Before she took a step she heard Angelus call out "28339". Guess he got it fixed. Taking a look over her shoulder Buffy could see him slightly swaying as he filled the air with a haunting melody. Inexplicably her eyes filled with tears. In less than twelve hours she had experienced every emotion known to man: fear, hate, joy, ecstasy...

...even love...

But never for him! Never! Unfortunately, even to her own mind, the words rang hollow. Watching him she noticed everything about him. Everything. As much as she might hate it, Buffy knew she could watch him forever. She watched the heavy silk slide across his shoulders with his every movement. She could even see the ends of his hair curl slightly as it dried. She could see his fingers dance over the keys as the music grew into a deafening crescendo.

But I don’t love him. I won’t love him.

No matter what she would make her thoughts true. She HAD to. She simply had to. Once she got home she would figure out what had happened to her and then maybe fix it. She was just overwhelmed and tired that’s all. Maybe this bond thing was all in her head and not even real.

Buffy’s blood boiled and raged, making her neck and body throb unmercifully before suddenly laying still once more. Silently she had been mocked and subjugated by her own flesh, even as a gut-wrenching pain tore through her. Watching Angelus, Buffy felt an aching emptiness. She had received no answer. Her body had called to him again and again had been firmly ignored.

The inevitableness of it all communicated itself with slumped shoulders and a bowed head. It was over. He had taken what he wanted and now he was finished. Good. Now maybe I can get back to normal. I can move on and forget this ever happened. Maybe he’ll even leave Sunnydale.

And once again her words sounded hollow.

Turning away she made her way to the elevator, pushed the button, and then punched in the code. Stepping inside Buffy brokenly whispered "Goodbye Angelus...forever" and waited for the doors to close. Silence. The music had stopped so suddenly---one second it was there and less than a second later, it was gone.

Looking over her shoulder she expected to see the subtle gleam of polished metal. Instead she looked into the soulless eyes of her demon lover. Timelessly Buffy stood there unwillingly mesmerized. Her body awakened from its’ rejected slumber, silently begging for Angelus.

A light of acknowledgment flared in his dark eyes before being banked. Softly he murmured in a warning tone "There is no forever Buff...not yet."

He had heard her. Across the distance of rejection and hurt, he had heard her. Buffy felt a warmth expand in her soul, in her blood. Before she could stop herself she asked "Then why?" She had fought to leave him, to leave this place, but the reality of it all was that she did not want to leave.

Running a hand across her downy cheek, he smiled when she leaned into him. She wears her need for me so beautifully. "I told you to behave or get out of my sight. You misbehaved, so I’m sending you home."

"Misbehaved?" she breathed while relishing in the thrill of his hand. It was so cool, so comforting, so very wanted. Buffy softly moaned as she thought Angel never felt like this. He would never touch me like this without feeling the familiar sting of guilt. She wished he could touch her forever. Later she would deny that she ever felt this way, but for now...

"You never answered me, naughty girl." The Slayer is melting at my touch. She craves my hand, this very same hand that has bruised and torn her flesh. All after one night... Stroking her cheek his fingertips Angelus silently asked himself But does she really want you? Would she, of her free will, choose to be at your side---in spite of the mysteries of this morning? Despite the threat you hold over her head?

No. But does it really matter why she whores for you, as long as she does? Once again the answer was No.

Buffy’s heart, blood, and body warmed with happiness. Moaning softly she closed her eyes from the overwhelming sensations. Helplessly she ached again, wanting him so much. He wasn’t sending her away forever. Tamping down the growing relief, she forced herself to say "Whatever."

Smirking he drew her head towards him. Hovering over her lips, he watched in fascination as her entire body pulsed and glimmered with desire. Angelus knew that he could pull up his jacket and fuck Buffy against the wall if he felt like it. She wouldn’t stop him, nor would she really want to.

He also knew that if he was to enslave this charming, still-innocent girl he would have to alternately punish and reward her. Punish her when she strayed, punish her simply for the pleasure of it. Reward her when she pleased him, reward her simply to keep her off balance. Pummel her mind and body until she knew no other touch than his, no other emotion other than what he made her feel.

And all the while, night and day, this darling little Slayer would be totally focused upon him.

Hot, angry lust rose up within Angelus. How he wanted see tears stream down her face! How he wanted to see her humiliate herself for him, for his dubious affection. How he wanted to see her lovely face twist with ecstasy! How he wanted to become the very air she breathed! While he had achieved far more than he had thought possible so quickly, he was greedy for more.

Patience Angelus, patience.

Crushing his mouth against hers, Angelus boldly plunged into her open mouth. The sweetness of Buffy’s lips clung to him even as he pulled back roughly. Leaning against the elevator doorway, he casually rove his eyes over her pliant figure. So lovely, so fucking lovely. Out loud he noncholantly reminded her with "Remember Buff: their lives are so fragile, so easy to take. It’s up to you to make sure they stay safe."

The soft haze of desire faded from Buffy’s eyes. The unreality of the past hours faded as she remembered the outside world. Her life outside of this madness. The next words were spoken with a thread of steel as the Slayer came forth. "Stay away from my friends, my family Angelus."

"Isn’t it a little too late to be threatening me Buff? Shouldn't have been last night, before our dirty deeds were done?"

Ignoring his sneer she coldly ordered "I mean it Angelus---leave them alone."

"I will...just as long as you do your part."

The realization of their arrangement caused Buffy to shift uncomfortably. How could she keep her two lives separate? Separate they WOULD be for she could not let the others know about this. Perhaps Angelus would be satisfied with an every now and again arrangement.

Maybe, but will YOU?

Looking at a point in the distance she quickly said "Fine, but only when I have time. Which I really don’t have alot of SO..."

Angelus stared at her for a moment, absorbing the words left unsaid. "Are you trying to back out Buff? I truly hope not. That wouldn’t be nice of you, now would it?" he asked in a low, carefully modulated tone that was all the more frightening than if he had shouted the questions.

Correctly judging the danger of the situation Buffy sharply said "I’m not trying to back out! I’m just letting you know that I still have a life that can’t involve you. Which means that I’m not going to be at your beck and call. That’s all."

Sagely nodding Angelus replied "That’s good to know. Here’s something else that’s good to know: I own you now Miss Summers. What is mine I keep. Just remember that and we’ll get along fine."

Gritting her teeth Buffy said "You don’t own me."

"No? You yourself made sure of that last night. If I recall correctly..." Angelus cocked his head to the side while thinking out loud "Yes...yep, you definitely did that." Straigtening he confidently recalled "I seem to remember a time last night when you were bouncing away on my cock. Remember that time Buff? I know you did it ALOT, but there’s this one time in particular..."

"You were riding me, and oh babe, you were SO good." Making a lusty noise Angelus continued. "Anyways, I remember asking you who you belonged to. And you know what you said? No? C’mon Buff---how could you forget?"

Primly Buffy replied "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Ah, I see. Let me see if I can remind you." Mimicking a high-pitched voice Angelus shamelessly imitated Buffy. "Oh!..oh!...Angelus!...I belong to you...Angelus! Yes! Yes!"

Wickedly he grinned at her while Buffy’s mouth dropped open. How could he just bring that up! A flush stained her cheeks. Did she really sound like that? Dropping her gaze from his she looked at the floor. Oh God! She felt like she could just die of embarassment right now. Mutinously she mumbled "Last night doesn’t change anything."

Chuckling Angelus ran a finger down the tip of Buffy’s nose. "Last night changes everything darling. You just make sure you spread ‘em when and where I want. You do that, then they live. You play nice, I’ll play nice." His voice deepened as he finished with "Remember that the power is in your hands...and the guilt if you force me to play dirty."

"Oh and Buff?" Bringing his finger up to his lips Angelus made a "shushing" noise. "Let’s also keep this between us. It’ll be our little secret."

Impotent anger settled heavily in Buffy’s mind. She had NO intention of letting anyone know about this, but she hated Angelus telling her what to do. It was another thing for him to hold over her head and she loathed that. Snapping she said "What difference does it make? Maybe I’ll just tell them everything! If they know, then they’ll be prepared and you can’t hurt them."

Quietly he simply stated "You tell them, they die."

Looking up her eyes flashed with anger and awareness. "You don’t want them to know, do you? I’m open to you but they’re not. And you know that! You know that they’ll find a way to keep me from you---"

A cold look entered his eyes as he smoothly cut in with "Do you really think that anyone, including you, can stop me from getting what I want?"

"I can stop you."

"Dream on Buff. If it makes you sleep better at night, then..." elegantly he shrugged while unabashedly smirking.

"I can. I just..." at this Buffy stammered slightly before boldly saying "You just haven’t given me a major reason to. But I’m serious Angelus: don’t cross the line with me. I’m still the Slayer and you’re still---"

Tired of hearing her self-driven, moralistic threats and posings Angelus snarled "Your lover." Hauling her against him, Angelus entangled his fingers in Buffy’s hair. Pulling her head back he lightly sucked the skin of his healed bite, delighting in the lyrical sound her speeding pulses. His fangs slid in just a tiny bit, enough that Buffy’s body sagged against his own, before pulling away from her completely.

"Just be ready for me Buff." With that he disappeared from her sight. Immediately Buffy could hear the tinkling sounds of the piano fill the air as the doors slid shut.

With tremendous effort Buffy stood ram-rod straight as the elevator quickly reached the first floor. Valiantly she dealt with the pulsing and pounding within her body. Resolutely she controlled the pain that lanced her body. Her face was utterly composed and without expression as the doors quietly slid open with a hiss.

Walking out into the lobby she ignored the curious looks of the doorman and desk clerk. She never realized that the haunting lovliness of her face beckoned those surrounding her. Nor did she realize that the air of tragic beauty compelled those to watch her despite the inbred politeness and discretion each man possessed.

Rousing himself from his stupor, the door man scurried across the highly polished blue-veined marble floor and opened the door for Buffy. Silently she stepped through the portal, her breath becoming more and more shallow, and left the building. Helplessly both mens’ eyes were riveted on the small figure with the enormous trailing leather coat. Finally looking at each other, the desk clerk murmured "Do you think she’ll be back?"

Shaking his head the middle-aged doorman replied "I don’t know. She’s the first Mr. Gryphon ever brought here, so who knows?" Looking back at her he mumbled "I don’t know Simon, but I sure as Hell hope not. Did you ever see so much pain in such a young person?" Shaking his head the doorman somehow knew that this would not be the last they saw of the young girl.

With forced jovialness he walked away from the door and said "So, did you see butt-whipping Chicago gave L.A. last night?" Simon immediately let out a disgruntled complaint and a reply as to why the Lakers were off the night before. He only listened with half an ear as he thought Dammit where’s that girl’s father? What is she even doing here? She’s too damned young to be with such an older man like that Mr. Gryphon! Hell, it’s against the law!

The doorman named Mr. Robert Lomarr also knew that there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it either. The mayor, who payed every person’s salary in this building, specifically wanted the wealthy man in the penthouse left alone. Ignore anything you might see Bobby. Mr. Gryphon is a very powerful man, do you understand me? We don’t want him to ever feel uncomfortable.

Even if he made an anonymous report to the police, everything was so locked up in this city they would know who did it. Robert needed this job and he also felt that a firing wouldn’t be all that would happen to him. Mentally shaking his head, he shrugged off his paranoid thoughts. There was an undercurrent to this town that sometimes got to him. As he made the appropriate replies to Simon, Robert couldn’t help but think of the little blond-headed girl one last time. Stay away darlin’. Just stay away!

Outside Buffy screwed her eyes shut as the bright sunlight pierced her vision. Slowly re-opening them she looked about her as she tried to gather her bearings. With surprise she noticed the stately building of City Hall right across the street.

Angelus lived right across the street from City Hall. How strange.

She absently watched the occasional suited individual enter or leave the large building. What would the mayor say if he knew of not only vampires, but the fact that one lived right across the street from his workplace? He’d probably pass out from the shock.

The familiar tingling sensation wrapped itself around Buffy. She felt compelled to look up at the building behind her. Angelus. Closing her eyes, her body swayed slightly as she felt him. He was up there watching her, she knew it. Silently the crimson liquid that flowed through her veins stirred with its’ wants. Buffy’s neck throbbed unmercifully. Touching it she could feel the powerful pulse beneath.

Turning away, Buffy forced herself to take one step after another along the sidewalk. Translucent tears flowed down her face as she felt the impact of leaving him. It was so agonizing, so incredibly painful. So incredibly insane! Stifling a sob, she felt disgusted that she was proving Angelus’ spiteful words to be true. Truly Buff how embarassing do you think it will be for me when you tug at my sleeve and weep every time I leave you?

Dodging the few people on the sidewalk, Buffy felt such confusion eat away at her soul. Neither of them really discussed what had happened that morning. Was it so commonplace for Angelus? Had it happened countless times before? Intense jealousy seared her as she thought of the lines of faceless women before her. Had they all felt so desperate for him? Had he made them feel so out of control?

What do you care?! her logic shouted at her. You’re only screwing him to keep them safe. And maybe not even for that long---don’t forget good old shift-changer demon Acrymydion!

"Look to him and you’ll find salvation."

Abruptly stopping Buffy found herself in front of a steepled church. Searching for the voice she saw a young man standing on the steps. Gentle blue eyes peered from a smooth, unlined face. Buffy’s eyes were drawn to the peace to be found there. "What did you say?"

"You looked troubled." Pointing skywards the young priest repeated "Look to him and you will found the answers you seek."

Staring at him for several moments she remembered saying her prayers with her mother as a little girl. When was the last time she prayed? When was the last time she even went to church? Gratefully smiling at the nameless gentle warrior of God, Buffy climbed up the stone steps. No longer conscious of her state of undress she entered the dimly lit church. It was completely empty. Walking across the mutely carpeted floor she slid into a pew and laid her head on the cool wood in front of her.

Taking a deep breath, Buffy tried to cleanse her mind of Angelus. He had no right in this place of worship. Here he held no power, no dominion. Looking up she observed the biblical scenes that surrounded her. The stained glass pictured the martyred expressions of saint after saint, while the tiny flicker of candles graced the feet of Christ as he hung from his cross.

Transfixed Buffy stared at the image of Christ. Dark knowledge probed her mind as she looked at every detail of the cross. It was so strange to be able to see minute cracks that crossed the pale lips and the microscopic flakes of paint that had fallen from his pupils. Walking up to the altar her eyes held those of Christ represented. Finally stopping before rows and rows of candles, Buffy stood in front of the Christian Savior.

Whispering she asked "What should I do? Where do I get the strength do fight him? I can’t let him have me body and soul, but..." faltering she looked away. She should pray for forgiveness, she should beg for it, but she couldn’t. Looking back into the sculpted eyes she whispered "I want to be with him. I hate Angelus, I do...b-but I want to be with him."

Hearing herself, hearing the pained finality of her words, Buffy’s fury rose. Lashing out at the silence she demaned in an angry whisper "How could you let me fall like this? I thought I was fighting for you, I thought that I was one of the good ones. Why didn’t you protect me? Where were you when I needed you?!"

As abruptly as her anger rose, it dissipated. Her shoulders sagging, Buffy turned away from the altar and its’ empty Christ. She couldn’t blame God, she could only blame herself. She knew the risks, she knew what she was dealing with and she STILL did it. She only had herself to blame, no one else.

Before Buffy reached the doorway she heard a soft sigh and then a rush of silence. Looking over her shoulder she saw with surprise that all of the candles had been extinguished. The smoke drifted slowly towards the ceiling, curling before the cross before fading into nothing. She felt a shiver of foreboding grip her tightly. A brief crack in her mind opened and a red-misted vision wrapped itself around her brain...

Shattered glass...blasphemy...blood...pain...ecstasy...hatred...’

...before disappearing back into her subconscious, leaving Buffy shaken but completely without memory of what she saw...

Walking back out into the sunlight, she saw the priest standing in the same spot. His eyes held hers as she made her way towards him. "Did you find the answers you were seeking?"

A hard look glinted in her hazel eyes, making them appear blue, before fading away. Glancing away Buffy thought about the weeks that passed and those to come. Looking back at the priest she nodded and said "Yes Father, I found them."

You’re on your own Slayer. You made the choices---now live with them.

With that she turned away, walked down the steps, and hurriedly made her way home.

The End

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