Her hair was mussed and her mouth partly open, perfect pearly white teeth peeking from beneath rose colored lips. Her cheeks were flushed and a little smudge of chocolate still clung to her upper lip, marring the portrait of perfection. She looked like an angel to him, all beauty and love and innocence.

Craning his head a little, Angel licked his lips and bent down to kiss the smooth white column of her throat before moving his mouth, a little at a time, up to the corner of hers. He nibbled and licked and kissed her lips, worrying them between his teeth before pushing on them the slightest bit with his tongue. Little by little, he worked her teeth open and slid inside. She still tasted of chocolate and peanut butter, and as he kissed her more deeply, caramel. Gradually, she was regaining consciousness, her muffled groan the first indication that she was at all aware. Slowly she began to kiss him back, her tongue snaking out to meet his, her body settling more firmly along the line of his chest, hip, and leg. The contact of warm flesh, of *his* warm flesh, woke her fully and she finally pulled away from the kiss, blinking sleepily. She looked up at him and an expression of complete love settled over her features, almost frightening in its intensity. She rested a hand on his chest and left it there for a moment, savoring the feel of his beating heart, pumping life and blood through the body of the man she loved.

"God," she whispered, feeling a little overwhelmed. "It wasn't a dream."

Angel chuckled, pulling his arms up to crush her small body to him. "No, Buffy, it wasn't a dream. It's real. All of it- the heartbeat, the ice cream, that damned kitchen table..." he trailed off, wincing at the thought of the table in question, now in several pieces. This time it was her turn to chuckle.

"Well, if someone hadn't been leaning *all* of their body weight on one edge, we'd have been fine."

He raised one eyebrow, his mouth quirking slightly. "Buffy, next time we try that, *you* be on top, and we'll see how your balance fares."

"But Angel," she began, an absolutely wicked expression on her face, "I *like* being on the bottom."

"And why would that be?" he asked, playing into her little game, testing her to see how far she would go. "I love the feel of you, driving almost too deep inside me, hitting that spot that no one else can find, filling me up, making me feel like I'm going to drown in you-" Buffy found herself cut off as his mouth swooped down to meet hers. He pulled away after a moment, licking his lips as if to savor her taste. His eyebrows drew together a bit, and a look of unease settled over his face.

"I should go. I have some...errands to do."

Some sixth sense, peculiar to women, whispered in the back of Buffy's mind. She didn't like his expression. It looked almost... guilty. So she did the only thing she knew how to do.

"Angellll," she whined softly, before her voice changed and became confident. "You're not going anywhere."

"And how would you know that?" he asked, amused at her certainty.

"'Cause I can do this," she answered, and quickly clambered onto his chest, effectively pinning him. With a slight shock, he realized that he *wasn't* able to move; she had grasped his hands and held them down at his sides, her legs clenched tightly on either side of his hips. Of course, he got an unobstructed view of the most beautiful woman in the world, so for the moment, he didn't feel like moving anywhere. Gazing down at him, Buffy was suddenly struck by the possibilities of their position.

"Hey Angel," she purred, her voice suddenly soft.

"Yeah?" he answered, the word rumbling up from the back of his throat, almost a growl.

"You said you wanted me to try the top..." Her hips moved, creating delicious friction between their bodies. He could feel the wetness seeping out of her core onto his stomach. The aroma tickled his nose, taunting him. Suddenly, visiting the Oracles seemed like something that could be put off till much, much later.

She leaned down over him, her lips barely an inch from his, gazing into his eyes with scarcely concealed lust. Slowly she dragged her dusky-rose tipped breasts across his skin, her nipples tightening immediately at the sensation. The look on his face was tortured as he tried to raise his mouth to hers, aching for her kiss. Unfortunately, Buffy was feeling evil. She sat up slowly, keeping her taut nipples just barely out of reach of his lips.

"Want some more?" she purred, the tip of her tongue just barely flicking out to wet her mouth.

The look he sent her was almost comic in its desperation. She giggled, and holding his hands at his sides, lifted herself off of his stomach and started to move down his body, licking and sucking at his skin. The muscles of his belly clenched under her mouth, making ripples of flesh. She drifted down, carefully moving around his erect shaft. The juncture of leg and abdomen received the next wet kiss, and her lips moved to the right and down, teasing the sensitive flesh of his inner thighs. She had to let go his hands to reach the rest of him, but he played along and remained motionless. The backs of his knees were the next thing to go, then the long, lean calves, then the point of each ankle, and down to the soles of his feet. They were smooth and cool, each toe perfectly shaped. Taking a moment to gaze at them, Buffy realized that he had beautiful feet.

"You have beautiful feet, you know that?" she asked, and looked for his response.

The look he returned her made her laugh aloud. She moved back up his legs, nuzzling the coarser hair around his shaft before taking the length of him in her hand and lightly squeezing, caressing the satiny skin with an all too light touch.

"Buffy," he gasped, his voice sounding curiously rough, "You have to-" He cut himself off with a groan, finding words inadequate. Her mouth had found him at last, smothering him in its scalding haven. Slowly, she lowered her mouth before pulling up, then going lower each time. Finally reaching the base, she started to hum. The trembling that overcame him told her she was doing something right. She started moving her mouth up and down the entire length of him, working him faster until he was at the breaking point, then slowing to a torturous rate. Her head had just risen almost to the tip when she felt strong hands close around her upper arms and she was dragged across his chest to his mouth. The clash of lips was almost violent, straining against each other, struggling to meld into one person. The kiss went on and on, their lower bodies undulating together, rubbing sensitive tissue against coarse pubic hair.

They broke apart finally, both gasping for air. A smile passed her lips as she realized that her swollen labia were encasing his length, caressing his flesh each time she ground her clit into his pubic bone.

"I want you...inside me," she whispered raggedly, panting sweet puffs of air onto his face.

"I can do that," he replied, a grin crossing his face. He swiftly grasped her slim body in his arms and twisted, bringing her underneath him. He rose above her on hands and knees, gazing down into the beautiful, glowing face of the woman who would soon be furious for the choice he'd decided to make. The Oracles seemed pretty powerful; they could probably change him back. But, God, to leave all this pleasure and happiness and love, to willingly turn back into the creature that he had been... to give up this goddess whom he loved so much. So much that he would die for her. Again.

As Buffy watched, his face had again taken on that look of guilt. His whole body had tensed, and to her horror, she saw crystalline tears gathering in his eyes.

"Angel? God, sweetheart, what's wrong?" Her voice broke his concentration and he returned from his thoughts. He realized that tears were rolling down his cheeks and that Buffy's face, so recently flushed with passion, had gone pale with anxious worry.

"I was just-" his voice broke and he cleared his throat, "I was just thinking about how much I love you."

"I love you, too. So much that it hurts. It hurts inside... and you can make it stop." Her look had turned passionate again, her voice rough with desire. "Make it stop hurting, Angel."

The voice had its desired effect and he placed himself at her entrance, both of them more than ready. She was so wet that it seeped out of her and had started to dampen the sheets. The head of his cock pushed at her entrance and she gasped, clutching at his back with both tiny hands. Before he could draw breath or think another thought, he pushed all the way in, revelling in her tightness, feeling the fiery heat of her body consume him. He drew out and pushed back in, all the way to the hilt, making her crane her head back and open her mouth in a soundless scream.

"Harder," she choked out, hoarsely. He complied, grasping her slim hips in his hands and lifting to find a new angle. As he dove into her this time, she wrapped her legs around his waist and they both moaned in unison, feeling him slide in just that little bit more. He drew back out and thrust back in, almost viciously, revelling the in cries she was making. His hips began churning faster as he felt her inner muscles start to spasm. Slowly, his fingers crept between their bodies and passed lightly over her clit, rubbing around it in tiny circles. His entire length was buried within her when she came, screaming his name in an escalating voice as if to release all the pent up heartbreak and pain they had endured. Her muscles gripped him tightly, squeezing past the point of pleasure and into pain. Groaning, Angel dove into her one more time and let himself go, flooding her with his seed.

The room seemed so quiet as they gently came back down, his body blanketing hers in a possessive gesture that was both endearing and crushing. His mouth nuzzled at her ear, taking little bites of the ear lobe, sucking on it and moving downwards to work on her neck. Slowly raising his head, he gazed into her face and smiled. A beautiful, huge, gleefully happy smile.

Buffy was absolutely overcome. She couldn't remember how she'd ever lived without him, or how she'd ever convinced herself that she was fine without his support. His love and companionship were all that she'd ever need. Placing trembling hands on either side of his face, she pulled him forward for a long, lingering kiss that said more than she could ever have expressed with words. After several long moments, she pushed him away, savoring his taste on her lips. Her gaze rose to meet his again and, inexplicably, her eyes filled with tears.

"I'm not complete without you," she whispered brokenly, one hand rising up to caress his cheek.

"I know the feeling." The whispered response was punctuated by another grin. His fingers came up to stroke the line of her jaw, feeling the silky skin under his touch.

"I love you. I'll always love you. No matter what," she told him, almost fiercely.

The words seemed to echo in Angel's head as he remembered what he'd resolved earlier. Reluctantly, he started to speak.

"Buffy, I- I need to go to the deli. We need some breakfast food. I'm just starved." He smiled weakly at his own joke.

Again, something whispered in the back of Buffy's mind, telling her to keep him with her at all costs. A sense of foreboding fell over her as she gazed into his face. She knew. Somehow, she knew that to let him go that morning would spell death for the happiness they'd found. She couldn't physically keep him there forever, so maybe she could talk him out of it, or just keep him there for a short time...

"No! Please, Angel, don't go. Just stay here for a little while- to talk or something. We don't need food..."

Her pleas were interrupted as he rolled off of her and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He stood up and walked over to his closet, pulling open the door. Choosing a dark sweater, he started to look around for his dark slacks.

"They're in the living room," Buffy supplied, relishing the thought of how they'd ended up on the floor. Angel shot her a quick grin before leaving the room. He came back in, buttoning his pants and pulling up the zipper. When he started to speak, his voice had a wooden quality, almost jerky. She knew where he was going. They both knew and neither of them said a thing about it.

"I'll be back in just a bit. I promise."

"Right. Bring me back some au jus, 'kay?" Her smile was watery.

He walked back over to the bed and sat down, wrapping his arms around her thin shoulders, hugging her to him so tightly that she almost couldn't breathe.

"I love you," he whispered into her hair. He planted a kiss on her forehead and stood up. They said nothing as he left the room, and she visibly flinched as she heard the door slam on his way out. Once again, the tears welled up, hot and salty, washing her face as they coursed down her cheeks. The sobs started to rip themselves from her chest, and she drew her knees up, burying her face in them.

Echoes of her cries began to chase themselves around the empty apartment.

The End

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