"Unwanted Passion"

Author: Gia
Email: gia@everysixseconds.com

Xander waited outside Buffy's house until nearly 2 am before giving up and going home. He was cold, irritated and disgruntled - the long wait reversing his opinion that he should warn the Slayer about anything he might have heard. At least that's what he told himself as he grumbled and made his way home. It ate at him bitterly. How could she give everything - her loyalty, her heart, her body - to that monster?

Had he the slightest ability for introspection, Xander would have realized that he was jealous. Jealous of Angel, now Angelus, and his relationship with Buffy, the girl that he himself wanted.

Xander's feelings of anger and envy grew as he thought of Angelus's hands on Buffy, touching her intimately. The vision of Buffy's leg over Angelus's shoulder as he knelt in front of her at the cemetery flashed through his mind, vivid and lascivious. He could hear her soft panting cries as Angelus had his way with her. Why couldn't that be him? Why wouldn't she give him the same thing that she gave that- that demon? He kicked at the rock on the sidewalk, cursing when his toe throbbed in pain.

As luck would have it, of course, Xander had left his stakeout at Buffy's house minutes before Buffy and Willow arrived after their run in with Spike and Angelus in the cemetery. He had just turned the corner out of sight when they came around from the opposite direction. And it was one of those times when a few minutes would make all the difference in changing fate.

By the time he reached his house, Xander had practically convinced himself that Buffy owed him something. And he knew just what it was he'd demand from her. If she liked it rough, if she wanted a man that wouldn't take no for an answer - he'd show her that he could be that man. He'd tell her what he heard - once she put out for him. Xander smiled now, a leering cruel smile, his hand stroking his cock through his jeans as he thought of the things he'd make her do. In the next second he came, shooting his seed in his pants as he jerked off just outside his house. The porch light came on and Xander's mom looked out the window. She frowned in disapproval at the site of Xander, his hand on his wet crotch. Flipping the light off, she sighed heavily and went back to bed.

"Nothing on the ritual?" Jenny rubbed Giles's shoulders as he leaned over yet another huge volume, tense and worried.

"No." He was short, his words tense and angry. In the five hours since they had arrived back at his place, he'd been going through the Codex, along with any and all other Slayer folklore that he could get his hands on.

"So, are you going to tell her?" Her hands stopped, resting on his shoulders.

"And say what, exactly?" Giles leaned back and took Jenny's hand, caressing it absently as he sat his glasses down on the table. Running his hand over his eyes, he sighed wearily.

"You could warn her about what Angelus intends."

"We don't know what he intends. We only know what the council suspects." Giles picked up his glasses again, his expression thoughtful as he cleaned them.

"So what now?" Jenny moved to sit beside him.

"We keep looking. We either need to find the ritual or perhaps something in the slayer prophecies that predicts this." He sighed and handed Jenny a book.

Buffy arrived at Angelus's apartment at dusk, just as he had asked. Walking toward the door she once again told herself that it was purely to keep her part of their bargain, it wasn't about her own shameful lust for him or the fact that she loved him. Her mind balked at that. She couldn't love him - the demon, the vampire. It was wrong in so many ways. And yet…

Quickly shifting her thoughts to less emotionally entangled topics, she wondered again why Giles had so mysteriously shooed her out of the library today. He was obviously preoccupied and seemed not to want her around. Was it because he now knew about her involvement with Angelus? Was he - disappointed in her or worse? With the exception of Willow, her friends seemed to condemn her for her involvement with Angelus. Giles had never said - but did he also feel that way? Buffy sighed, once again pushing away those thoughts.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door. As she crossed the threshold, she jettisoned all of those thoughts. Her body temperature increased, as if detecting the presence of her mate and she felt a keen sense of anticipation.

Angelus had been sitting, reading and waiting for her to arrive. Earlier he had begun the first of the three steps of the ritual - combining the various ingredients in a cauldron along with a few drops of his own blood. The completion of the step required intimate contact and Angelus could think of nothing he'd like better…

At the first sight of her, he came to his feet in a swift, graceful flow of motion. He was wearing the trademark leather pants along with a burgundy velvet shirt, which was carelessly buttoned giving her a glimpse of his abdomen.

"Come here." He held out his hand and waited as she walked toward him, her feet moving as if no longer in her control. He had that affect on her. He watched her approach him, his dark gaze taking on a predatory cast.

She inhaled, the raw sexuality in his eyes further stirring her own desire. Even now, though they had been together several times, she had no idea what to expect. He was moody and temperamental - and not easy for her to read, not that he ever had been. With her eyes trained on his face, she studied him. His expression was shuttered, in no way giving away his thoughts. There was the faint smell of smoke and burning herbs in the air and Buffy looked curiously at the items strewn on the table wondering what he had been doing earlier.

When she reached him, he sat back down and pulled her into his lap. Buffy sat with perfect posture, nervously upright and still attempting to gauge his mood. His closeness was doing dangerous things to her libido, her sense of concentration.

Angelus's eyes roamed over her, taking in the pale yellow top and burgundy skirt. He was assessing her. He could sense her hesitation, the faintest fear and arousal mingling with the delicate scent of vanilla. His erection stirred under her bottom. "Your timing is perfect, lover."

Buffy shifted, lifting one hand to rest it on his arm. After a minute hesitation, she slid it up to his shoulder. "And?"

"I've been waiting for you." He would never admit it, but he savored her willing touch. The lightest stroke on his arm aroused him more than the most flagrantly sexual act that Druscilla had ever performed for him.

"Really?" She whispered, sliding her arms around his neck and pressing closer, his words gave her confidence, courage. When she had touched him, the spark of desire swirling within her flared hot. She squirmed in his lap, pressing down harder.

"Really." He growled softly, lifting her easily to sit facing away from him. He brushed her hair aside, his lips latching on her neck as his hands cupped her breasts. With a deft movement, he jerked the camisole top down breaking the straps.

"Dammit." Buffy muttered, having more torn clothes to have to explain to her Mom or fix before she saw them.

"Nice." Angelus ignored her comment as he eyed her bra-clad breasts over her shoulder, pulling her back against his chest tightly for a better view. Her matching pale yellow underwire bra pushed her breasts into high, swelling mounds, the lace cups straining against the flesh. His thumbs brushed the outline of her nipples pressing against the material. "I love your tits, Buff, your hard little pink nipples."

Positioning her so that her legs were outside his, he moved his legs spreading her thighs wider. With a sudden movement, her pulled her skirt up. His tongue licked her neck, tracing the pulsing vein beneath the skin. He sucked, leaving a faint purple mark of passion.

"And your pretty blond pussy…" His voice dropped to a whisper, his erection stirring, pressing hard against her bottom. Intensely aware of his readiness, Buffy whimpered softly. Had she really become so wanton that only a few touches from him, a few whispered words and she was wet and ready? Her desire for him seemed to be more acute, more intense than ever.

"You're dripping wet and I haven't even touched you yet." Echoing her thoughts, Angelus ran his finger up her thigh, capturing the fluid dripping while she shivered under his touch. Angelus knew that the spell he had performed earlier would have made her more susceptible to him, increasing their desire. "You want my cock, don't you?"

Buffy nodded, a barely perceptible movement, as another whimper escaped her lips. Her head dropped back to rest against his shoulder, her hands gripping the arms of the chair. Buffy rotated her hips, thrusting hard into the rigid cock nestled against her.

"Look at how wet you are." When she didn't respond, Angelus gripped her chin and forced her head down. Her eyes opened briefly and she looked down at her spread legs. One of his large hands was splayed across her stomach, his other hand dropped from her chin to return to the dampness on her inner thigh. Sliding two fingers under the crotch of her panties, he brushed across her dewy wetness.

"You're ready to be fucked, aren't you?" He murmured softly against her ear, his tongue snaking out to trace the lobe before he bit down.

She nodded, obviously this time, biting her lip to suppress a moan.

Angelus smiled a feral smile, her obvious passion stirring blatantly carnal feelings of lust within him, along with possession, ownership. He wanted her like this for him, always.

"Your nipples are so hard." He traced the outline of the lace with his fingertips, leaving her sticky wetness on the mounded flesh. He rubbed her nipple though the lace. He pinched it hard in his fingers. "Maybe I should suck them."

Buffy drew in a small breath at the streaking heat and increased sweet, throbbing ache between her thighs that his words provoked.

He pulled the lace down and gripped the taut peaks between his fingers. The tips hardened even more under his attentions as he pinched and tugged, twisted and toyed while Buffy panted and moaned in his arms. When she arched into his hands, he pulled away, stretching her flesh tight under the pressure.

Buffy moaned, feeling as if she were going to come with his touch alone. He had not even kissed her…

"Please…" She whispered, reaching up and back with one arm to circle his neck.

Angelus knew what she wanted. It was what he wanted as well. He pushed her off his lap. "Take off your panties so I'll have access to your cunt."

She should have taken issue with his bluntness, his coarse words. But they only increased the throbbing between her legs.

"Do you need help?" Angel murmured, his voice low and velvety.

Buffy looked over her shoulder at him. He was swiftly unbuttoning the leather pants. She shook her head as she reached to unzip her skirt.

"Hurry and I'll give you this, Buff." He drew out his erection, forcing it away from his body. His hand moved with practiced ease over the enormous length as her eyes watched, mesmerized.

Her panties followed her skirt to the floor. When she moved to straddle him, he turned her to face away from him again. With one hand under her bottom, he guided his cock to the damp cleft between her legs.

Buffy's eyes were closed, her body taut with expectation.

Angelus lowered her, her hot channel engulfing him. When he was fully sheathed, Buffy released a small rapturous sob, a manifestation of her fevered longing for him. The sound reverberated in Angelus's mind, his own desire for her acute, intense.

Buffy didn't move as first because she couldn't breathe. She had forgotten how big he was, how long and immense. How he filled her so perfectly. Taking a deep breath, she spread her legs wider, taking him deeper.

Angelus drew in an unneeded breath at the riveting friction, the scalding heat surrounding him. His voice, when he spoke was rough, insistent. "Now, lover, ride me." He punctuated his words with a sharp slap on her behind.

Buffy ground her hips downward, wanting him with a deep and terrible craving.

Angelus braced his feet, surging upward with forceful pressure.

Buffy gasped, a small cry escaping her lips as his hands gripped her waist and lifted her. He forced her movements, setting the pace, fast and hard. She felt each and every stroke along her pulsating, fevered channel. Too quickly she felt the first orgasmic spark, the rippling convulsions beginning.

"No…" She whined, distraught and wanting more.

"Oh yes, lover." Angelus licked his tongue across his teeth, feeling the morphing of his features. His hand slid down to the swollen and throbbing nub of pleasure between her legs, where their bodies joined. With expert manipulations, Angelus massaged her clit, squeezing it hard and sending her spiraling over the edge.

At the peak of her pleasure, Buffy clawed at him, her nails sinking into his hands, his forearms. He refused to give her even a moment's respite, continued to plunge her downward even after the shuddering convulsions died out.

Buffy whimpered, gorged, crammed full and oversensitive as Angelus resumed his rhythm. His own urgency was building, his lust for Buffy ferociously single-minded.

She came again as he drove into her with barely restrained violence. Wrapping his hand in her hair, he pulled her head back and to the side, baring her neck even as she turned her head for him in submission. He arched his back and sank his fangs into her neck, lifting them both from the chair when he poured his own ejaculation into her, a hoarse growl emanating from him. For endless fevered moments, he forgot who he was, he forgot where he was, forgot everything but the wild pulsing orgasm jolting his body, each spasm pouring through him with such shocking intensity that he shut his eyes against the agonizing pleasure.

Buffy stirred long moments later, Angelus licking gently at the closing wound on her neck.

"You're going to have to bite me somewhere else, you know." Her voice was teasing, playful.

Angelus smiled, a leering and interested smile. His curiosity was peaked. "Really?" He stood, shifting her and lifting her in his arms.

"It's hard to hide the hickeys and bite marks, you know." She looped her arms around his neck.

"I see." His lips lowered to hers as he carried them to his bed. He made no promises, but later than night they did explore a few additional options.

It had been three days since Xander had hatched his plan to make Buffy pay. Days spent watching her, wondering daily if she had spread her legs for that demon the night before. The thought of her warm and willing for Angelus ate at him constantly. He also noticed that she'd taken to wearing scarves and high neck clothing - that alone made him suspicious and angry. He tried following her twice, but she lost him easily, so he still had no idea where she went at night. He suspected Willow knew, but she had been cold to him and thus, no help.

As he watched Buffy laughing with Willow in class, he continually fantasized about all of the things he wanted to do to her, all the things he wanted her to do to him. He shifted on his chair, attempting to ease the ache of his stirring erection. Today was the day. He finally had a plan.

Buffy was surprised when Xander slipped her a note, asking her to meet him in the library after school. In the note he only said that he had some things to say to her, things that he needed to say in person. Privately.

When Buffy arrived in the library, she was surprised to find that Giles wasn't around. He was almost always there. Xander knew, of course, that Giles had gone home. That was part of the plan. Xander had lied to Giles, telling him that Miss Calendar had mentioned that she needed to talk to him about something important. Someone to do with some men they talked with the other night.

Giles's eyebrows flew up in surprise, but Xander only shrugged, his expression innocent. That's all she told him, he repeated. He then sent Miss Calendar on a wild goose chase to the magic shop - having told her a similar, but twisted version of the same story. Not that he expected her to intervene, but one couldn't be too careful.

When Buffy sat opposite him, Xander offered her a mocha, knowing that it was her favorite. She took it with some hesitation, wary and uncertain.

"Please." Xander's expression was earnest. "I know how much you like them. Consider it a peace offering."

Buffy smiled tentatively in response, sliding the sweet drink closer. She took a sip - it was rich, chocolately and delicious. There was a surprising bitter aftertaste, though. She took another drink, her brows furrowing.

"Good?" Xander noted her expression and felt like slapping himself on the forehead. Could she taste it? He wasn't sure how much of drug that he had stolen from Giles's stash was needed to weaken her. He only understood a little bit of the Watcher's Journal entry that he found describing the drug and some ritual that was used on a slayer's 18th birthday. The ritual didn't interest him, only the effects of the drug, so he hadn't read the information carefully.

"Yummy. Thanks." Buffy smiled at him, wanting to find someway to patch up their damaged friendship.

"So, Buff." Watching her carefully, Xander began to speak. "I, uh, wanted to tell you that shouldn't have said what I said to you."

"It's okay, Xand. I know things are kind of confusing right now." In their stalled conversation, Buffy had finished about half the drink.

"More than you think." Xander sipped his own unaltered mocha, attempting to appear casual but his heart was racing. What if he hadn't given her enough? He glanced at the clock, noting that it had been about half an hour now.

Buffy shook her head, feeling fuzzy and disoriented. She attempted to stand, but stumbled. "Wh-what?"

Xander smiled cruelly. It appeared to be working.

"Nothing." He stood and came round the table to stand in front of her. He stepped closer, trapping her against the table.

Buffy feebly pushed him away, her strength rapidly dissipating. "Xander, what have you done?" She attempted to fight the effects of the drug, feeling too vulnerable to lose herself in the lazy fog but her attempts were ineffective. Her own voice sounded like it was coming from a distance.

"Well, Buff, that should be obvious. Since I'm a just a mortal, I had to even the playing field a bit so I could be the kind of guy you want."

He grabbed her arms tightly and pressed his mouth against hers. His breath stank of garlic and the pizza he had for lunch. The sour smell of perspiration wafted up to her nose. She struggled weakly, the fast-acting drug effectively reducing her strength.

The pressure on her mouth increased and she was forced to open her lips and allow his tongue inside. Buffy wasn't afraid yet, but she was angry. How dare he attempt to force himself on her? She reached up, her hands groping at his face. When she poked him in the eye, he drew back.

"Fuck." His hand covered his eye as she attempted again to push him away. Without a second thought, he backhanded her hard across the face sending her sprawling to the ground.

Angelus paced restlessly, trapped by the sun. He had woken suddenly, his dreams interrupted by a crystal clear vision of Buffy. She appeared weak and disoriented and he knew immediately that she was in trouble.

He'd felt the connection to her after the first time he had fed off her, but with the beginning of the ritual, her bond to him had intensified. If Buffy had noticed it, she had not commented. And tonight he needed to complete the second of the three steps, following the directive of three days lapsed between each rite, making it even more critical that he find her.

As the sun slowly set, he continued to receive flashes of danger surrounding her. He growled in frustration, unable to help or intervene. He wasn't even sure of the nature of the problem - only that his mate was threatened. He growled again, his eyes glinting gold as his features shifted.

"You bitch!" Xander knelt over Buffy where she lay still sprawled on the floor. He grabbed her hair jerking her head off the floor. "You think you're too good for me don't you?"

"N-n-n-no…" Buffy could barely get the word out, the haze surrounding her and the pain shooting through her head making it difficult to concentrate.

"Angel. Angel. Angel. All I heard for months was that mother-fucker's name. Watching you pant after him like a bitch in heat, while you acted like the rest of us were dirt. Well, how do you feel now, princess?" With one hand Xander grabbed her shirt, ripping it down the front to expose her bra.

"No." She pushed at him, struggling weakly. "Xander, stop."

"So, was it worth it, huh? Must be quite somethin' to be such a good fuck you can make a monster lose his soul." Jerking her bra, he tore it away from her. "Guess I'll get to find out, huh?"

Buffy shrank back from him, wanting to cover her nakedness but Xander refused to release her. His eyes drank her naked flesh in greedily, darkening with anger at the bite marks evident on her breasts.

"You fucking whore. You let that-that *vampire* bite you there?! Bet you never told your watcher about your perverted little habit, now did you?" His voice was incredulous, then spiteful. His hand circled her breast, squeezing cruelly. "Or is it that you like the pain, Buff? Want me to hurt you? Does that get you off?"

Buffy whimpered, closing her eyes. She reached out with her hand, groping for something, anything that would help her.

"Look at me!" Xander screeched, slapping her hard, her head snapping back against the floor.

Angelus was snarling now and running, his long legged strides taking him rapidly through the Sunnydale sewers as repeated visions of Buffy flashed through his mind.

He had chanced a mad dash through the sunlight to the nearest sewer access, unable to wait any longer with disturbing sensation that Buffy was in danger hanging over him.

Buffy grabbed the pencil that she found on the floor, gripping it tightly in her hand. One good shot and she'd at least buy herself some time. She clenched it in her fist waiting for the right opportunity.

Xander's pushed her skirt up. He could feel the increased throbbing in his cock as he was nearing his goal. He'd nearly shot his wad just seeing her naked breasts, but he was able to control it. Grinning, he congratulated himself on his restraint as he assessed her.

Smirking, Xander pressed wet sloppy kisses to Buffy's face and chest, before biting hard into the soft flesh of her breast. "Am I doing it right? Is this how the demon does it when he fucks you?"

When Buffy only squeezed her eyes closed in response, Xander grabbed her hair and shook her hard once more slamming her head against the tile floor. He leaned down and yelled in her face. "Answer me!"

"No." The sound was barely audible, Buffy finding it hard to concentrate.

"Oh, that's right. I don't have fangs." Xander sneered, once more running his hands roughly over her. "But I do have something else that he has…"

As she felt him groping clumsily between her legs, Buffy felt and increased sense of urgency to do something immediately to stop him. Xander shifted his attention to the actions of his hand between her legs, watching as he tore the crotch of her panties to expose her to his lustful gaze. With his eyes wide and his mouth open, he gaped at her stupidly, just short of drooling.

Buffy realized that now was her chance. Maybe even her only chance. She gripped the pencil hard in her fist.

Just as she raised her arm and drove the pencil hard into his shoulder, the bat came crashing down on Xander's head with a resounding thud. He dropped on her, blood pooling on his skull. With difficulty, Buffy shoved at him, attempting to roll him off her.

"Buffy, are you all right?" When he saw that she was having trouble with the boy's weight, Giles dropped the bat and knelt down to help her. Her condition alarmed him - how was she unable to fight off the boy?

"Yes." Her words were still muddled and she was still weak, but she was enormously relieved. She was panting slightly from her exertions, the room careening wildly in her drugged eyes.

Noting her tattered clothing, Giles politely averted his eyes and wrapped his own jacket around her before checking her carefully for any sign of injury. Carefully he helped her to stand, and sat her in his office. Only then did he finally check on Xander. The boy was breathing, but would have one hell of a headache when he woke - that is, if he didn't have a concussion. Not to mention an angry shoulder infection from the pencil lead. Well, there was no doubt that it was deserved.

Giles turned suddenly when the door to the library crashed open, Angelus bursting through. "Where is she?" He demanded, his demonic features giving Buffy's watcher a momentary fear.

Giles pointed, unable to speak.

Buffy let out a startled shriek at Angelus's sudden appearance, then miraculously she was in his arms. Large silent tears pooled in her eyes and she began to cry, relief washing over her. She needed him and he had come. It was that simple. Safe in Angelus's arms, she didn't have to be strong. She gave herself up to his strength, his keeping.

Giles watched mutely as Angelus folded Buffy in his arms, whispering soothing words to her as his face returned to his human form. Giles would never have believed it, the Scourge of Europe, one of the meanest Master Vampires known, was cuddling a slayer, comforting her.

Angelus lifted her tear stained face. His eyes searched her for injury, just as Giles had done earlier. Unlike Giles however, and against her protests, he parted the jacket she wore and examined more than just her face. He already knew that she had been drugged, her could smell the altered chemistry of her blood. His face darkened with anger when he saw the torn and tattered clothing. His features morphed back to the demon when he noted the scratch down the center of her chest along with the faint teeth marks and fingerprint bruises on her flesh. It was all accompanied by a scent that he knew too well.

"Harris." The word came out in a rough snarl, his expression fierce. He could smell the boy's scent nearby - along with the aroma of his blood. It was both provoking and agreeable given his current mood. "Where is he?"

"Some friends of mine from the Council will be arriving shortly to take him away." Giles interrupted from the doorway. "He knows too much about the slayer, about the Council - I can't turn him in to the Sunnydale police."

"I wasn't going to turn him in." His words emotionless and cold, Angelus gave him a look that would have made a lesser man shiver.

"I can't let you..." Buffy murmured, stirring and clinging to his shoulders. She didn't want to verbalize the rest of her thoughts. "Besides, you promised."

Angelus returned his eyes to Buffy, brushing her lips with a kiss.

"Take me home? Please." With soft eyes, she looked up at him. After a long moment of internal debate, he found he could not deny her, as much as he wanted otherwise. But Harris would pay - now or later. He would wait.

Angelus removed Giles's jacket from her then wrapped her in his own. He wanted no other male scent near or around her, no matter how innocent or benign. Lifting her in his arms he left, uncaring that Giles watched them.

Angelus said nothing all the way back to the apartment, his unleashed anger making him moody and impatient.

When they reached the apartment, he sat her on the bed then immediately began to run a bath. She watched him quietly with wide eyes. Finally she spoke, "How did you know? And how did you know where to find me?"

"Your scent." His ill temper was in his eyes and voice, every taut inch of his tall body. Without an outlet, his anger turned on her. He ignored her first question, unwilling and unable to verbalize the spiritual connection that existed between them. Besides, she knew, she felt it too - she just wanted him to hear him admit he felt it as well.

"Did the boy have a good time?" He added churlishly, his gaze raking over her where his coat gaped open revealing her exposed breasts.

"No." Buffy clutched the coat together as a chill ran through her.

His dark brow lifted, his eyes flecked gold with his anger. "He touched you. The question remains, how far did he get?"

"He didn't-" She felt shamed, horrified as her mind flashed back to those minutes in the library, Xander's hands groping her. She took a calming breath. "He only touched me. He didn't-" She couldn't finish her sentence, the thought too disturbing.

"He didn't what, Buff? Fuck you?" Angelus brutally finished for her.

"No, he didn't." Her words were a whisper, but her eyes sparkled with anger.

He'd known as much, but his rage demanded to hear the words spoken, to hear her remove his doubts.

"How is it that he was able to drug you?" His voice was a low murmur, his distaste obvious.

"The mocha." Buffy shook her head, attempting to clear her thoughts. "It tasted funny-"

"But you drank it." Condemnation was in every word.

"How was I supposed to know? I never thought Xander would do something like this…" Her voice nearly a whisper, Buffy felt saddened that it had come to this, that her friend had tried something so despicable, so irrevocably destroying to their friendship.

"Fine. You didn't know. Get in the tub."

"I get the impression that you think this is somehow my fault." Buffy gazed at him, her eyes challenging. She would never be able to defend herself physically in her weakened state, yet she resented his apparent anger at her.

"We both know how *friendly* you can be. Maybe you led the boy on." He growled savagely. "Just get in the fucking tub and wash his stinking smell off of you."

Buffy's temper flared. "How dare you. You fucking asshole." She sat up straighter, her chin lifting defiantly. She'd been through too much today to take this bullshit from him. "This was not my fault. If you're mad because you see it as a violation of one of your things - me - then, listen to me very closely." Buffy stood then, clutching his coat around her, anger apparent in every inch of her tiny body. "Fuck you! I don't care."

Unsteadily she moved, intending to leave.

"Well, Buff, an invitation. Now that I like." Angelus moved swiftly in front of her, halting her progress. "Your bathwater is getting cold."

"I'm not taking a bath. Not here." She stared up at him, her gaze bold and challenging despite the fact that she was no match for him in her drugged condition.

"I'll help you." His fingers closed on her arm, preventing her escape.

"No, thank you." Buffy attempted to shake loose.

"I insist. I have this aversion to fucking you while you stink of him."

"You're worse than Xander." She snapped.

"Lover, it's just a fuck. It's not like you haven't spread those pretty little legs for me plenty of times before." He drawled softly. He could feel her anger, her indignation, and her hurt. With the last, he felt his own fury dissipating.

"You're kidding, right?" Towering over her, his sheet physical proximity was affecting her predictably. Her anger was softening and her body was heating, despite the earlier trauma. In that moment she resented her body's unwanted response to him, more than she ever had before. When he touched her, she felt what he felt - the anger, the rage - and deep down there was something else, something she couldn't quite name.

"Not at all. That *boy* touched you. I will wipe that memory away." His voice was a low murmur as he stared down at her face.

Buffy shut her eyes briefly, reality suddenly too harsh and uncompromising. He had come for her, despite the sunlight, despite the demon that he was, knowing some way, some how that she had been in danger. No one else would do that for her, no one else would risk as much.

"What do you want?" She said on a soft exhaled breath. She no longer wanted to think about good and evil, right and wrong, salvation and vengeance. She wanted to be comforted and held, she wanted to know that everything would somehow be all right. It was unfair. He was angry and hating her for reasons she couldn't control, his anger at Xander equal to her own.

"I want you to take a bath."

"Fine." She walked toward the bathroom slowly as his eyes followed her.

Without closing the door, she shrugged out of his coat and her tattered clothing dropping them to the floor in a pile. She stepped into the water gingerly, still feeling weak and unsteady, not to mention somewhat disoriented.

At the first sight of her nude form, Angelus clenched his fingers in his palm. Hatred for the boy that touched her rising again, jealously nearly choking him. He would have his vengeance. What he had done to Spike for his transgression against her would seem like a mere slap compared to what Xander would know. That is, if he survived it.

Buffy refused to look at Angelus, concentrating instead on the simple act of bathing. The warm water felt heavenly, the heat relaxing her tense muscles. All of her other thoughts right now were too complicated, too confused. The day had become a nightmare that she did not want to remember.

Angelus lit the fire in the small fireplace then removed his shoes and shirt. He forced his concentration to the next step in the ritual. He gathered up the required items and mixed them together. Occasionally, the sounds of the water splashing would distract him and he would glance up, the need for vengeance returning swift and sure with each passing moment.

Buffy glanced over her shoulder at the sound of Angelus's voice, apparently chanting something. She had been nearly dozing for the last few minutes, the heat of the water helping to sooth and relax her.

Curiously she stood and reached for the towel, drying herself off and wrapping it around her as he continued.

When he finished, he looked up at her where she was watching him from the door.

"Would you like a smell?" She rudely inquired, her earlier feelings of resentment and annoyance returning. What was he doing?

"Later. Get into bed." Angelus reached for the small dagger on the table.

"If I don't?" Buffy shook her head, watching as he drew the sharp edge of the knife against his palm.

"I'll fuck you on the floor." He barely spared her a glance, concentrating instead on what he was doing.

"Nice." She muttered sarcastically, "What are you doing?"

He didn't answer. Not that she expected him too.

A few drops of blood dripped from his hand into the ornately carved crystal glass on the table below. Dropping a small flame into the glass, it sparked and flared in a brilliant blue and fuchsia light.

"Now lover, drink this." Angelus held up the glass and started toward her.

Buffy backed up toward the wall. "No way. I will not be drugged twice in one day."

Angelus considered her words even as he continued toward her. "It'll return your strength." He lied, but she wouldn't know that until later. When it no longer mattered.

Buffy looked at him warily, her earlier anger and resentment at his treatment still hovering below the surface.

He reached out and touched her then, his hand sliding soothingly up her arm. His gentle touch always unnerved her, reminding her of Angel and effectively destroying her will to resist.

A hushed silence had fallen over the room, only broken by the infrequent crackling of the fireplace. She stared into his eyes.

Angelus held up the crystal goblet for her. His hand moved along her shoulder to the back of her head. He was preparing himself to force her, should it be necessary. Buffy however, didn't realize his intent. She only felt his touch, his nearness, the weakening of her knees and the beginnings of the swirling heat that he was so easily able to provoke. As if she were no longer in control of her own actions, she reached for the glass.

Glancing into the contents, she sniffed. The smell was a bit acrid with smoke, but otherwise it not unpleasant. She looked up at him again. Angelus cupped the back of her head, tilting her head further back. He kissed her gently on the forehead, on one delicate eyebrow.

"This won't… turn me, will it?" She had seen the drops of his blood that he had put in the glass, and she knew the ritual.

"No." His lips brushed her temple, her cheek then lightly across her lips. His lips then settled on hers in a deep kiss, promising the heated, tantalizing pleasure that she knew he could offer. It was a deliberate kiss intended to persuade, to encourage, to tempt.

When he finally released her lips, she sighed. Then drank the contents of the glass.

Angelus grinned when she finished it in one gulp, taking glass from her and tossing it away, heedless of the sound of the crashing glass as it shattered upon hitting the floor. He lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed.

Lowering her to the bed, he slid one hand between her thighs.

Buffy caught her breath at the initial intimate contact, the tremulous pleasure spiking upward.

Despite the earlier ordeal, she found herself strangely restless and overwrought. She felt his cool hands on her keenly, making her feel remarkably feverish and delirious. His lips brushed across her chest, his tongue lapping at the scratch from Xander's nail, at the faint teeth marks on her neck. He was determined to touch her everywhere, to replace her memories of Xander's touch with his own.

When he slipped a finger inside her, she arched into his hand.

Sliding down, he slipped between her parted legs and ran his tongue over the nub of her clitoris. He licked and sucked with such delicate expertise, that Buffy was soon clutching his hair, whispering fervently, "Oh god, oh please…"

The heated pleasure spread through her body as he continued the expert ministrations of his tongue and fingers, intensifying the sensations with increasing attention to detail until her climax washed over her. She mewled softly, not wanting the glorious sensations to end.

Angelus moved over her then, thrusting inside her with nearly savage force, yielding at last to his possessive impulses, his anger, his primitive and inexplicable need for her. Leaning over her, he felt larger, stronger than ever given her weakened condition, yet even that furthered her want of him.

He kissed her then with barely restrained passion, his tongue exploring her mouth as he moved with increasing strokes. He had an elemental need to own her, exclusively, singularly and without reservation. He wanted to wipe away any memory of Xander's hands on her body, any lingering trace of her distress at his hands.

Buffy clung to him, wanting too to wipe away her earlier memories of the day, to seek what comfort she could find in her lover's arms.

Angelus resisted the urge to drink from her at the height of his pleasure, knowing that the drugs still in her blood would also weaken him, which was not something he would tolerate. To his surprise, Buffy bit him in the next instant, her teeth sinking into his neck just above his jugular as if she understood. He grunted and buried himself hard into her body, shooting his cool seed into hot, convulsing channel.

Buffy's eyes flickered with weariness even before Angelus rolled from her. He studied her face as she slept, his eyesight keen in the now dark room. Long minutes later he tucked her against him and she sighed, falling into a deeper sleep with her lips pressed against his neck.

"Rupert!" Jenny shouted from the library. "I think I've found something!"

Giles rose quickly from the position he had been in, hunched over yet another book at his office desk.

Giles noted the blood on the floor as he crossed the room to where Jenny sat at the table. His thoughts jumped briefly to the dark haired boy that the team assigned by the Council had picked up just half an hour ago. Xander would be given medical treatment for his injuries, then would be sent to a work farm in some remote location far removed from Sunnydale. To everyone in Sunnydale, it would be yet another unexplained disappearance. The difference of course, is that a body would never turn up with inexplicable wounds or bite marks like so many former Sunnydale residents.

Giles felt a twinge of regret that things had gone so wrong with the young boy, but it couldn't be helped. Not any longer.

"Right here." Jenny's voice returned Giles's thoughts to her as she pointed out a passage in the large and ancient volume on the desk. "I think this is it."

Giles put on his glasses and began to read. When he finished he looked at Jenny and smiled. In the next second his smile was replaced with a worried frown.

"Oh my lord. We have to stop them." Giles shot Jenny and troubled look. In the next instant they were both heading for the door.

When Buffy woke the next morning, she was in her own bed in her own room. She glanced anxiously around, half expecting to see Angelus but instead saw only the bright sunlight streaming through one partially uncovered window.

Rolling over with a sigh, she noticed the deep scarlet rose lying on the pillow next to her along with a note. The bold script handwriting was familiar, Angelus and Angel sharing the exact penmanship. Although, Buffy mused, Angelus’ hand was certainly more… bold. More forceful.

She picked up the note and read the brief message reminding her to return to him tonight. Tucking the folded paper in the drawer, she picked up the rose and held it to her nose inhaling the delicate fragrance. Who would have thought that Angelus, the Scourge of Europe, would do something so romantic? With a small smile, she rose and headed to the bathroom to shower and dress for the day.

Giles rubbed a hand tiredly across his eyes as he made his way into his small kitchen to make tea. He and Jenny had been up most of the night unsuccessfully searching for the men from the Watchers Council.

He’d left Jenny at her home only a few hours ago and returned home himself, hoping to catch a few hours of sleep before he’d need to make an appearance at the high school. His one small consolation about having to work today was that he’d be able to see Buffy and … well, what then exactly he wasn’t sure. He didn’t quite know how to tell her about the ritual the Council suspected Angelus might be planning to perform, or had perhaps already begun. He didn’t want to alarm her with unfounded suspicions and yet he couldn’t leave it without saying anything.

As he waited for the water to boil he wondered briefly if the vampire had indeed already started the various rites… he then pushed away the thought with a shudder. It was simply unprecedented, in more ways than he could imagine. The ritual was dangerous and powerful and perhaps more importantly, unsubstantiated. There was absolutely no account on record that anyone had actually achieved immortality. Of course, that was perhaps because few, if any, such attempts had met all of the particular requirements of the spell.

As he poured the steaming water in the teapot, he made a mental note to review the spell one last time. Perhaps he had misunderstood something…

Showered and dressed, Buffy wandered into the kitchen in search of food, the activities of the previous night having left her famished.

"Buffy. Good morning." Joyce glanced up from the newspaper she was reading to look at her daughter.

"Hey." Buffy poured herself a glass of orange juice from the carton on the counter before opening the refrigerator to scan the contents.

With her expression one of practiced innocence, Joyce added lightly, "I’ve been thinking… I’ve been so busy at the gallery that we haven’t spent much time together. What’d you say we just take off and drive down to San Diego for the weekend?"

"Have you been reading ‘Parenting’ magazine again?" Buffy asked as she examined a bowl of fruit with a critical eye before selecting a peach. These types of bonding activities usually came on the heels of guilt after Joyce had been reading some article about how to be a better parent or how to get to know your child.

"So what if I have?" Joyce replied defensively, crossing her arms over her chest. "Will it kill you to spend some time with me?"

Sighing, Buffy turned to look at her mom. "No. It won’t kill me. But I have school today… and Mr. Giles... I promised to help him do stuff at the library today. Book stuff. And then, and then- Willow and I have plans. The Bronze. Tonight. Friday nights are always big nights at the Bronze." She added the last bit on impulse, rapidly searching for excuses that would keep her in Sunnydale. Of course there was her duty as the Slayer, but lingering in the back of Buffy’s mind was also her promise to Angelus.

Joyce smiled smugly. "I’ve already left a message at the school and one for Mr. Giles saying that you won’t be there today. I doubt very much that whatever he needs you for can’t wait until next week. I’ve got to be back Sunday afternoon to meet Mr. Phillips about a piece he wants to sell on consignment at the gallery. You can see your friends then."

"But-" Buffy replied, her voice filled with frustration.

"No buts, Buffy. I don’t want to hear it. We’re going." Joyce’s voice was firm. She set her coffee cup in the sink and walked toward the door. "Be ready to leave in about half an hour."

Grumbling, Buffy stomped up the stairs.

While she threw a few things into a bag, Buffy called Willow and whisperingly told her what had transpired yesterday at the school library with Xander and later with Angelus. She then pleaded with Willow to somehow tell Angelus where she had gone. For reasons she didn’t want to analyze, it was important to her that he know she was not willingly breaking her promise too him. Neither did she look too deeply at her feelings for the vampire – unwilling to acknowledge the growing attachment to him or the conflict that it created for her as the Slayer.

A short while later with a disgruntled expression on her face, Buffy climbed into the car next to her mother.

The weekend found Angelus restless and edgy as he paced around his apartment like a caged animal. At night, he went out alone, moody and irritable.

He was angry that he had not been able to take his rage out on Xander Harris, the Council having spirited the boy away without a trace. He was also frustrated over the unaccustomed and unwelcome celibacy for these last two, now almost three days. Each night he had perused the women at the Bronze or those lingering on the streets of Sunnydale with the intention of easing the ache in his loins, but he found no one that appealed.

Despite his promise to Buffy, he hunted and killed viciously in an attempt to assuage his frustration and anger. He didn’t even consider that it was of small consolation that his victims had been some of the lowest forms of life in Sunnydale, one a known pedophile, the other a brutal killer himself.

When Willow had shown up on Friday afternoon, nervously stammering the message that Buffy’s mother had taken her to San Diego for the weekend, he had given the red-haired girl a cold, narrow-eyed stare that caused her pulse to jump erratically and her palms to sweat. She blurted out what she had come to say in a high pitched voice, almost a squeak, and then had turned and run down the street as fast as her legs would carry her. Angelus watched her from the shadows of the doorway with a smirk. As if he would chase her out into the sunlight anyway.

His initial impulse after slamming the door had been to go after Buffy and bring her back. The only words that mitigated some of his anger and curtailed his urge had been part of Willow’s hurriedly delivered message, in which she said that the blonde Slayer would be back Sunday afternoon.

So he paced and he raged but ultimately, he waited.

It was almost seven o’clock on Sunday evening when Joyce turned her green Jeep into the driveway. She had seriously underestimated the traffic through LA, so they arrived back in Sunnydale much later than she had planned. It had made for a tense drive home as Joyce tried repeatedly without success to reach Mr. Phillips, the client she was to meet that afternoon.

Buffy noted the "0" on the answering machine as she swept by it on her way upstairs. She was anxious to change and get going, hoping to stop by and see Willow and do a couple of quick sweeps of the Sunnydale cemeteries before heading over to see Angelus. Behind her, Joyce picked up the phone and began dialing, trying again to reach her client.

Just as Buffy crossed the threshold of her room, a strong arm caught her around the waist and yanked her back hard against a solid muscular chest while a large hand covered her mouth. Dropping the bag she had been carrying in her hand to the floor with a solid thump, she wriggled and clawed at the hand over her mouth.

"Welcome home, Buff." A soft familiar voice purred in her ear, the sound effectively stopping her struggles. His lips grazed the sensitive skin of her neck as he pressed his hips into her bottom, the bulge of his erection obvious even through her thin floral skirt and his leather pants. Behind them, Angelus kicked the door closed with a soft tap of his foot.

"What are you doing here?" Buffy whispered nervously as he dropped his hand from her mouth. His fingers grazed her breast then settled possessively on her lower abdomen, just above the apex of her thighs.

"Waiting for you." The dark-eyed vampire whispered against her neck as he moved his hand with agonizing slowness to slip under her camisole top, his long fingers splaying across the firm, smooth flesh of her stomach. His teeth grazed her ear lobe. "I missed you, lover."

He missed her! Her heart fluttered and shouts of exultation sounded in her head until her better judgment tempered her excitement. Angelus was hardly the type for her to entertain such silly romantic notions about. Besides, it was her duty to slay creatures such as he. Still, the fact that he was in her room waiting for her when it was still light outside meant that he had been determined to see her. That meant something… didn’t it?

A small burst of smug satisfaction swept over her at thought that she had perhaps tamed the master vampire currently clutching her close and grinding his hips into her behind. Angelus, tame! A small smile played on her lips at the very idea as her momentary satisfaction evaporated. Besides which, she thought as she tilted her head slightly to the side, giving him easier access to the curve of her neck, there were things about him that she was growing to appreciate very much… untamed.

Angelus nuzzled her neck as he tugged the hem of her top up over her breasts. Leisurely he brushed his fingers over the lace of her bra then over the tips of her nipples before squeezing her breasts through the pink satin and lace fabric. He cupped and kneaded the mounded flesh as her nipples swelled and hardened.

"What are you doing?" She asked softly, squirming as he swung her around and moved them a few steps back toward the door. Bracing her hands against the wood when he pressed her forward, she glanced back at him and whispered over her shoulder, "My Mom is downstairs."

"I know." Angelus smirked against her neck as he held her trapped between his tall form and the door. Reaching around her, he pinched the now engorged tips of her breasts between his fingers, tugging lightly. With deft fingers, he quickly and expertly unclasped the front closure of her bra, pulling the soft fabric away from her skin and giving him access to her bare flesh. "I guess that means you’ll need to be quiet when you come."

Buffy sucked in her breath at the lascivious statement, husky with promise. She felt a rush of adrenaline at the idea of doing something so risky as having sex with her vampire lover in her own bedroom where she could get caught any minute by her mother who was just downstairs… She couldn’t deny that a part of her welcomed the risk of such a scandalous behavior. In her heart, she admitted that she more than wanted to indulge in such wanton gratification with Angelus. Only with Angelus.

Still, instilled good behavior insisted that she attempt to resist such wicked urges. With a deep breath, she attempted to pull away from him, but only succeed in pressing her breasts more firmly into his hands. "We can’t… My mom… she’ll hear…"

A soft moan escaped her lips as he continued the tantalizing torture of her now bare nipples, tugging and twisting before rubbing his thumbs over them roughly.

This is impossible, Buffy thought. They couldn’t… not here. And yet, she already ached between her legs, craving the caress of his tongue, the touch of his fingers, and the long hard thrust of his cock filling her so completely. Her forehead dropped to the door and she arched into him, pressing her bottom into his groin.

"She won’t hear a thing." Angelus whispered without concern as he turned her in his arms, pinning her back against the door with his large body. He was not about to be denied. One of his hands tangled in her hair as his mouth took hers, impatient and demanding. His tongue thrust deep and tangled with hers as his other hand slid around her hip to cup the curve of her behind. Parting his legs slightly, he lifted her hard against him, rolling his hips and grinding his rock hard erection into her stomach.

Buffy keened softly into his mouth, her hands climbing up his arms to clutch at his shoulders before sinking into his hair. The cool silk of his shirt rubbed against her nipples, further stimulating the hard peaks. Behind her, the door rattled softly as they rocked against it.

"Angelus." Buffy murmured softly, her eyes opening wide in alarm when the sound of the subtle rhythmic shaking of the door penetrated the fog of desire he so easily wove around her.

Angelus broke off their kiss and lowered his head to her breast. He sucked one taut nipple into his mouth hungrily while his fingers toyed with its twin. His velvet soft tongue swirled around the hard peak, laving it roughly before he bit down with blunted teeth sending heated waves of longing swirling through her veins. Closing her eyes and biting her lip to keep from crying out in pleasure, Buffy gripped the nape of his neck tightly with one hand as he suckled the swollen peak hard into his mouth. Long questing fingers swept along her thigh, pushing her skirt up and she shifted slightly to give him easier access.

He took her other nipple in his mouth as she thrust her breast more firmly against his pulling, sucking lips. His fingers slipped between her legs, rubbing her hot throbbing core through the satin of her panties.

Suddenly Angelus was kneeling in front of her, his mouth wet and cool as he traced a path over her stomach, nipping and biting the firm flesh. His tongue laved at her bellybutton as his hands shoved her skirt up to her waist.

Buffy pressed her hands against the door and swallowed another moan as he tugged her panties down her hips to drop on the floor at her feet.

"She’s going to come upstairs." Buffy whispered softly as he nudged her legs apart. "She’ll hear us."

Grabbing one of her hands, he pressed it against her midsection to hold up the soft silky material of her skirt for him.

"No she won’t…" He assured her, his tone unconcerned as his eyes drifted over her partially clad form. He watched her face as he stroked the damp and swollen cleft between her legs with his long fingers, making her gasp and tremble with need. Easing her legs further apart, he parted her folds with his thumbs and leaned forward to take her swollen, glistening clit between his lips.

Buffy stifled a moan as he licked and sucked roughly before sliding his long tongue deep inside her. He teased, pressing hard and retreating slowly, bringing her just to the brink of ecstasy only to retreat and begin again. With a small needy sob, she grabbed his hair and tugged. She wanted the increased pressure of his mouth, the friction of his tongue, the tugging suction of his lips.

Angelus resisted, drawing back to look up at her, his eyes dark and glittering with lust, a small teasing smile on his sensual lips. "Feel good, lover?"

Buffy tensed, hearing her mother’s footsteps at the base of the stairs along with her muffled voice. She relaxed slightly when she realized the sound was from downstairs; her mother was talking on the phone.

Angelus smirked and leaned forward again. Just to torment her further he again began laving and sucking the taut nub of her clit, keeping her release just out of reach. His mouth was aggressive and demanding, stroking and suckling with insatiable, covetous hunger. The wicked pleasure grew with each deft swipe of his tongue and each suckling pull of his mouth, the tension and pleasure building higher and stronger. Oblivious to the creaking of the door, her head rolled against the hard wood as her body arched into his ravenous mouth, striving for that pinnacle of ecstasy that was so, so close…

He moved away abruptly and she whimpered softly, her eyes opening slowly in bewildered surprise.

"Now, Buff. Tell me what you want." He ordered in a velvety soft voice before licking her again with a lascivious slow swipe of his tongue. It was imperative to him that she be as desperate and needy for him as he was for her, even though he kept a tight leash – or so he thought – on his feelings. His tongue and lips danced over her flesh, so skilled, so talented as he drew her closer and closer to the edge. He thrust one long finger inside her, moving it with exquisite slowness along her highly sensitized flesh but carefully avoiding the swollen nub of her clitoris.

His head lifted and he looked up at her, his dark eyes mesmerizing. He moved his fingertips over her sleek lubricated flesh again before slipping a second finger in to join the first.

A muffled sound from downstairs reminded her again of her mother’s nearness and of the risk she was taking. Her body tensed and she closed her eyes.

"Tell me what you want me to do to you… What you want me to do to you with your mother just downstairs." He demanded with a small smirking smile, as if reading her thoughts. His voice was low and sensual as he continued the intoxicating caresses, coating her every lush surface with the liquid evidence of her desire.

A plaintive whimper escaped her lips. Her muscles were taut as she held herself still against the door, the drone of her mother’s voice fading in importance to other more immediate desires.

With frustration and adrenaline fast reaching a limit, Buffy looked down at Angelus. Her eyes, desperate and needy, reflected the extent of her desire. Her tongue darted out to trace her lips, her chest heaving slightly with her agitated breath. Her fingers clenched the silky material of her skirt tightly, holding it up and out of the way.

"Make… me… come…" She commanded in a low husky voice. As an after thought, she added, "Please…. Angelus."

Including his name in her breathlessly uttered demand was his undoing; Angelus leaned forward and drew the taut nub of her clit into his mouth.

Buffy’s eyes closed and her head rolled against the door as she surrendered to the pure hedonistic pleasure that he offered.

Using centuries of expertise combined with the suctioning swirl of his tongue and firm thrust of his fingers, Angelus quickly brought her to a toe-curling, mind-bending explosive climax.

A horse, ragged cry nearly escaped her lips before she bit it back as her orgasm crested and her entire body jerked and quivered with the force of her release. The door creaked and rattled with her movements, but Buffy neither heard it nor cared as Angelus continued lapping at her sensitized flesh until another small starburst of sensation rippled through her.

Without waiting for the trembling sensations to subside, Angelus rose to his feet and pulled Buffy’s top over her head, stripping it from her along with the pink bra. Yanking her skirt down over her hips, tearing it in his haste, he stripped her completely.

Buffy’s eyelids lifted slowly and she glanced up, meeting Angelus’ dark gaze.

"Buffy?"

Hearing her mother’s voice along with her soft footfalls as she ascended the stairs, Buffy panicked and shoved at Angelus’ broad shoulders, catching him off guard. She raced past him to grab her robe, only to find that it was gone.

In the hallway, Joyce continued speaking, "I’m going to soak in the tub for awhile. See if I can get rid of this headache."

Whirling, Buffy turned to Angelus. He stood there with a smug look, holding her robe in his hands. His brows quirked upward in question.

Retreating footsteps followed by the slamming of the door across the hall told them that Joyce had gone into her bedroom.

Buffy stared at Angelus, her pulse fluttering erratically at the sight of what a formidable opponent he made, so wholly sexual, so impressively masculine, so tall and dark in his typical black attire, the silk and leather complimenting his sheer physical perfection and superior strength. The long hard length of his erection was a blatant outline against the soft black leather of his pants.

"Come here, Buff." Angelus said firmly as he crossed one booted foot over the other in almost casual repose. He tossed her robe carelessly into the chair behind him. "And I’ll be gentle."

"Well, gentler." He added, as if giving further consideration to his words.

Staring at him standing in her girlish bedroom looking so impossibly compelling, Buffy realized then that she didn’t want gentle. She was excruciatingly aroused in his presence, and eager for his demanding, aggressive possession. She wanted to be fucked. She tossed her hair slightly but otherwise didn’t move, her hazel green eyes meeting the deep rich brown of his in challenge.

His lips curving up in a small carnal smile, he walked toward her, stalking her like a graceful, lean predator. It was obvious in every line of his body, in every nuance of his expression that Angelus reveled in the hunt, the chase, and of course, the capture. Heat and passion swept through her limbs, and her pulse accelerated in anticipation.

In the small room she knew that there was no escape, still she turned and darted away from him, wanting to provoke him in their little game. She’d only gone two steps when a large hand clamped over her shoulder and ruthlessly tugged her back.

He pulled her close to his fiercely aroused body, aware, as in the midst of a hunt or kill, only of the need to conquer. To claim.

He maneuvered them the few short steps to the bed and trapped her against it with his hips and thighs. With his hands on her back, he pushed her face down over the bed.

Her bottom was provocatively raised as he held her in place, his hands roving over her hips. She squirmed, feeling the hard bulge of his cock through the soft leather of his pants against her bare behind. An illicit thrill shot through her.

As if he could read her mind, the dark eyed vampire leaned over and licked her shoulder lewdly. "Admit you want this lover." He rasped in her ear, reaching around her to rub his palms against her nipples, feeling the pebbled tips. He rotated his hips suggestively, rocking against her.

"I’m not begging, Angelus." Buffy whisperingly replied, her palms pressed firmly against the bed. Still, she shuddered at his touch, melting with longing.

"That’s too bad, Buff. I was going to put my hard cock in your hot little cunt." He murmured against her ear, his voice low and taut.

"Nice." The blonde Slayer replied with a trace of sarcasm in her tone even though a shiver of heat raced through her at his softly worded - and explicit - promise. She wiggled again, fully intending to entice him.

He stepped back slightly and leaned away from her, his gaze raking over her nude form. He nudged her legs further apart with his knee, the soft leather of his pants brushing her thighs in an arousing way. He was aroused by her submissive pose almost as much as the pink cleft that was openly exposed to his gaze.

"You’re really wet, lover. Slippery wet." Skilled fingers swept over her wet folds again, teasing. In the next moment, she tensed as she heard the soft click of his belt buckle followed by the muted purr of his zipper as he unfastened his pants.

"All you have to do is ask me nicely," he murmured, drawing his rampant erection out of his pants. His long fingers curled around the stiff length and he stroked himself as he leisurely examined her nude form. "And I’ll give you what you want."

"Lock the door." She capitulated breathlessly, her fingers curling into the comforter in anticipation.

"Later." Angelus murmured dismissively. He again felt that irrational, obsessive need for her. It was unprecedented, dangerously close to out of control and so brutally powerful that he could almost feel the weight of it on his chest.

With his fingers splayed over her back, he ran his flat palm over the smooth skin along her spine and over the firm curve of her behind. He dipped his fingers between her bottom cheeks, stroking firmly then delving lower to find her drenched with desire for him. He guided the head of his cock to her wet slit, rubbing against her sensuously. He stopped, poised and waiting.

She pressed backward, her behind swaying enticingly. The only sound in the room was the soft hitch of her breath.

Buffy bit her lip, holding back the plea she wanted to utter.

"Fuck this." Angelus murmured abruptly, done with waiting and with teasing games. Fierce need erased any further need for her submission. He gripped her hips and adjusted her slightly before penetrating her with one hard thrust that took her breath away.

"Angelus…" Buffy purred breathlessly, lifting her hips and drawing him deeper. She wanted him with same relentless fury that drove him on. She wanted to give him everything and in returned, she wanted to take everything from him. She wanted to make him feel, make him believe that he owned her, body and soul. And then she would own him.

He moved again, thrusting hard, blaming her for the insatiable lust burning through his brain.

Shamelessly Buffy rocked back against him, delighting in the feel of the soft leather pants against her thighs, the silk of his shirt brushing her bottom. She felt so wanton, completely nude while he was still dressed, only his pants unzipped and pushed out of the way… She stifled a groan as he gripped her hips and slammed into her, harder, deeper.

Angelus leaned over her, bracing his arms on the mattress at her side. His mouth skimmed her back, her neck. He drove in her hard, the size and length of him stretching her as he impaled her to the hilt.

Buffy bit back a sharp cry of pleasure and Angelus growled softly as he withdrew and plunged into her again. He scraped his teeth along her shoulders and back and finally her neck, making her whimper as the small bites translated to fiery pulsations of exquisite delight. His fingers tangled in her hair, turning her head toward him.

His face taut with restraint and his expression savage, Angelus clenched his jaw as his features morphed and his fangs lengthened. His hips pumped against hers, the muscles in his back shifting and bunching under the black silk shirt as he thrust into again and again.

In response, Buffy lifted her hips, rising up on her toes to push back and meet each savage thrust.

A growl rolled up from his chest. Fisting her hair tighter in his hand, Angelus locked an arm around her waist and drew her up. He nuzzled her neck, his fangs scraping as his hand slipped lower to stroke the swollen nub of her clit. Each delicate stroke made her tremble and moan. When he pinched that taut pearl between his fingers, a low ragged cry escaped her lips.

His mouth opened on her neck, his tongue laving her skin roughly before he sank his fangs into the tender flesh where the curve of her shoulder began.

The triple assault of his mouth drawing on her greedily, his fingers manipulating her so deliciously and his cock thrusting into her so deeply served to shatter Buffy completely and she came with a long, shockingly intense orgasm. His name tumbled reverently from her lips as the scalding release sent her plunging over the edge of pleasure and straight into the realm of mindless physical sensation.

With her inner muscles clamped around him tightly, Angelus drove forward relentlessly, thrusting savagely. Finally, with a low primitive growl he tossed his head back and thrust into her one last time, hard and fast as he reached his own explosive climax.

"Now lock the door…" Buffy mumbled long minutes later, her face pressed into the soft comforter, her body still blanketed by Angelus’ weight.

"Buffy? Are you awake?" Joyce called softly through the door. She cocked her head and listened, waiting for her daughter to respond.

Releasing her hard and now deeply purple-rose nipple from his mouth, Angelus’ head came up like a wolf scenting his prey.

Buffy froze, her eyes wide and her breath held.

After undressing with Buffy’s help, he had finally locked the door then joined her in the bed where they had been pleasantly ensconced for the last two hours, Angelus diligently reacquainting himself with his lover's body.

"No, not really, Mom." Her voice sounded breathy and deep to her ears as she stared into the dark eyed gaze of her lover. She thought that her mother had gone to bed long ago. "I’m tired."

Buffy pushed half-heartedly at Angelus’ shoulders as she mouthed, "You have to go."

The vampire only smirked as he tilted his hips and thrust forward again. He moved with deliberate slowness, ensuring that the hard length of his cock brushed along her swollen and sensitive clit. Covering her mouth with his hand, Angelus stifled the soft moan that nearly escaped Buffy’s lips. Still smirking, he nipped playfully at her shoulder.

"Buffy? Are you okay?" Joyce asked with concern, her hand reaching for the door knob.

"Answer her." Angelus murmured softly, removing his hand from her mouth.

"Yes, Mom! I’m fine." Her voice came out high pitched and breathless again as he moved slightly, grinding the cool expanse of his chest and pelvis against her.

"Are you sure, honey?" With her hand on the doorknob, Joyce pressed her ear against the door.

Would she come before or after her mom opened the door? Buffy thought with an almost hysterical giggle. And what would her Mom reaction be at seeing Angelus in her bed? And with her legs wrapped around his back?

"I’m just… tired. I’ll see you… in the… morning." Buffy replied, clenching her legs and inner muscles around Angelus tightly to force him to stop moving. This time, it was the vampire that was stifling a groan. "Good night!"

The door knob turned slightly as Joyce paused, contemplating her daughter’s words. After what seemed like three infinite seconds, she called, "Okay, Buffy. Good night." The floor creaked softly as Joyce walked away.

"Great. Now she probably thinks…" Buffy dropped her head back against the pillow, a deep guttural sound of approval sounding in her throat as he ground into her again.

"What?" He licked her neck as he withdrew and thrust forward again, "She probably just thinks that you’re masturbating…"

He laughed softly when Buffy groaned. Still, she twined her arms around his neck again, arching against him with a blissful sigh.

Careful not to wake her, Angelus lifted a languid and sated Buffy in his arms, wrapping her in a blanket and carrying her silently down the stairs and out of the house. When they arrived at his apartment, he placed her carefully on his bed and waited until she sighed softly and settled back to sleep, a dreamy smile on her lips.

With meticulous attention to detail, he prepared the necessary items for the final ritual. The smelly herb concoction was sprinkled around the bed in a circle. A small earthenware bowl, a candle, a stone talisman taken from the Shaman and several bags of herbs and magic supplies sat on the table next to the bed along with a lethal looking jewel handled dagger.

Taking the remaining magic herbs and mystical elements, he combined them in the bowl and then recited the carefully memorized words with exact pronunciation. With a satisfied expression, he lit the pair of black candles.

He then stripped off his clothes and joined Buffy in the bed. He woke her with slow gliding caresses of his hands on her breasts and hips, his mouth on hers and his body easing over her. She stirred beneath him, parting her legs to accommodate his hips and he sank into her once again.

Buffy floated on a blissful cloud of desire as Angelus took his time to please her, building up their passion slowly and leisurely until they both reached that highest pinnacle of ecstasy together.

Just after their passion was spent, Angelus reached over and lifted the dagger from the table. He passed it through the mixture in the bowl and then held it over the candle flame until it was glowing red hot. The heat burned his hand, but he pushed aside the pain as he said the final passage from the complicated rite.

Turning back to Buffy, who was still drowsing beneath him, Angelus hesitated only a moment before he plunged the still hot knife into her heart.

Buffy’s eyes flew open with the sharp stabbing pain and she gasped. Her nails bit into Angelus’ bare shoulders as she struggled beneath him. Her eyes were wide, searching his frantically for a reason why he had done this to her.

"Angelus?" She whispered questioningly, as her eyelids drifted shut and she slipped into unconsciousness.

Slowing withdrawing the knife from her chest, Angelus leaned forward and lapped at the blood pooling around the wound over her heart. He listened with near panic as her pulse slowed and her heart gradually ceased beating. Resisting the temptation to clean her sweet blood from the knife, he instead set it aside. Slowly he rose from the bed and pulled on his pants.

For almost an hour, Angelus sat waiting by the fire, his head in his hands. With each passing moment, he felt his both rage and disappointment grow. If the Shaman led him astray, there would not be a day that the charlatan would not suffer the most grueling of agonies and torturous of pains all exacted by Angelus’ very own hand.

Already he was searching his mind for those that would know how to resurrect her. He was determined that he would have his golden beauty at his side.

A loud gasp from the bed brought him to his feet.

Buffy sat up suddenly, breathless and panting, desperate for air as if she were suffocating. Her eyes flew open and she clawed at the crimson silk sheets as she gulped air into her lungs. As the horrible crushing pain in her chest began to subside, she searched the room anxiously. Her searching gaze halted abruptly when she spotted him.

Angelus was standing next to the bed, an anxious frown marring his handsome features. As her eyes held his, a slow triumphant smile crossed his lips.

A flash of memory jolted her and Buffy’s eyes widened. With a burst of nervous energy, she skittered across the bed, as far away from the dark eyed demon as she could go. Clutching the blood stained sheet to her chest, she stared at him with disbelief and horror in her eyes. He stabbed her!

"You! You… stabbed me!" She cried as she began to shake uncontrollably. Her teeth chattered and her eyes filled with tears. She held up one hand to ward him off as he moved toward her.

"What did you do to me, Angelus?!" Her voice rose, cracking with emotion. "What did you do?!"

She was sleeping, but she heard the tapping sound on the window as if she had been waiting for it. Quietly Willow rose from her bed and went to the curtained French door. Drawing back the heavy drape, her stomach tensed with anticipation. She knew who she expected to see there… who she wanted to see there.

And she knew he was dangerous. She should ignore the subtle tapping and go back to the safety of her bed.

But she couldn’t. For a long moment she simply stared into the blue eyes through the glass. His pale countenance seemed to glow in the moonlight, illuminating his blonde hair and milky white skin.

He was unpredictable and dangerous. She knew why he was here, she knew what would happen if she were to open the door. The dark memory of their last encounter drifted through her mind. She wouldn’t admit it, even to herself, but she craved that experience again. She was drawn to him, despite herself.

Willow reached for the door, turning the knob slowly.

Spike grinned as the titan haired girl stepped out of her room and into the cool night air.

Giles peeked outside Jenny’s window again. The dark sedan was still parked across the street, the orange glow of a cigarette visible every so often as the passenger enjoyed his Pall Mall’s.

They had been shadowing him all weekend, no doubt believing that he would lead them to the Slayer and therefore, also to Angelus. While he was disheartened by what he suspected was to be Buffy’s future due to the rather determined and strong willed demon, his paternal instincts for her wouldn’t allow him to simply sit back and let them carry out their insidious plan.

It was only earlier that evening that Jenny had managed with great deal of cajoling and finally outright threatening to get Willow to admit that yes, she knew where Angelus and Buffy had been meeting secretly. Fortunately, both Jenny and Willow were more technically sophisticated than the Watcher’s council’s men, so their entire encoded IM conversation appeared as nothing more than questions and answers about school work.

Giles waited patiently until he thought he would be able to confront Buffy alone before he and Jenny put their plan into action. He nodded reluctantly as Jenny crossed the room, wearing a black silk robe. He didn’t like this plan, but he had not been able to come up with anything better that would allow him to sneak out and make his way over to Buffy’s.

Jenny smiled as she opened the curtain and then the window in the pretense of letting in air. The light in the room behind her outlined her shapely silhouette as the belt of her robe slipped, allowing the material to part. She gazed out the window as her hands caressed her breasts almost absently. Across the street, the two men watching the house fixed their gazes intently on the brunette at the window.

Silently, Giles crept out the back door.

Buffy gazed up at Angelus, her eyes filled with fear and distrust.

The dark eyed demon suppressed a smile. He was in excellent humor, his plan having gone as intended. Buffy, his chosen mate, was alive; the ritual had worked therefore the Shaman would be allowed to live. In fact, he might even award the sage with an appropriate reward, should he think of something suitable.

But first, Angelus thought as he glanced at the shivering woman sitting in his bed, he had other more important things to take care of.

"What have I done?" He tugged at the sheet covering her gently then with a sudden jerk, pulling it away from her and leaving her exposed to his gaze. "Why, lover, I have made you immortal."

Buffy curled her knees to her chest, clutching her arms around them. She stared at him, dumbstruck.

Calmly he stripped off his pants.

"And now…" he murmured in a rich purr as he crawled up the bed toward her like a dark graceful panther. "Now I am going to make you my mate."

Buffy’s breath hitched at his words, her eyes wide.

"No…" She mumbled automatically, inching back toward the headboard. Would he turn her? Her strength was gradually returning, but she was still weak and trembling. She doubted if she would have the strength to fight him off…

"I didn’t go to all this trouble…" He smirked as if reading her thoughts. "If I had planned to turn you. That would have been much easier than all this mess." He gestured toward the table of magic supplies just before his hand shot out and he seized her ankle. He pulled hard on her leg, forcing her to unfold it and extend it toward him. He then reached for her other foot, pulling it and then her toward him. "But I am gong to keep you with me."

"Why?"

"Because I chose you." He continued up the bed until he was leaning over her. He gazed down at her intently as he ran one finger along her jaw, then down her neck. "And because I want you." And because I want to own you.

His words unleashed a hunger in her soul that made her shiver. She felt as if she was being drawn to him through some irresistible force. Her skin seemed to tingle at his nearness, the warm feeling growing with steady intensity and filling her with desire for his touch, for his sex.

"Until you get tired of me. And then what?" She forced the words from her lips, her senses spinning dizzily.

He lifted his hand and pushed her hair back from her face. He looked in her eyes for a few long seconds before his gaze drifted lower drinking in every inch of her beautiful, golden skin. Beautiful. Sensual. Responsive.

His.

He couldn’t imagine his life – or rather unlife – without her in it. Never had he experienced anything like this before with anyone, but he refused to acknowledge the word that hovered insistently just on the edge of his brain. Love, he mentally sneered, was hearts and flowers not this gut wrenching, powerful obsession that burned through him with such brutal intensity.

"Never." He shook his head, his fingers toying with a strand of her hair. "I will never tire of you, Buff."

Buffy caught her breath. He was serious.

She stared into his eyes and caught a glimpse of what he was trying to hide from her, of what she doubted he would ever willingly admit, at least any time soon. And God help her, she felt the same way about him. Her feelings for him went far beyond the physical.

This was the moment of truth. Everything else between them had been just a prelude to this moment, Buffy thought as she stared up into his dark eyes. Her next move, her next decision would define her very future.

Seconds ticked by.

Slowly, her arms twined around his neck and she pulled his head toward her, searching for his mouth. He kissed her, gradually tightening the grip of his fingers in her hair as he deepened the kiss. She pulled him closer, fierce desire sweeping through her senses.

Her breathing was agitated when he finally lifted his lips from hers. Nuzzling her neck with his cool mouth, he feasted on her warm skin as his hands swept over her possessively.

He touched each nipple with a light flicking touch before lowering his head to suck them into his mouth. His hand drifted lower to press between her legs. He toyed with her clit until she whimpered softly and arched into the luscious friction of his hand.

Angelus lifted her thighs over his forearms, parting her legs further as he entered her with one hard thrust. He heard her breath catch as he filled her completely, his thick hard length stretching her.

Buffy rocked her hips and dug her nails into his back, encouraging him as he pounded her into the mattress with a hard driving rhythm. Her harsh low moans followed by wickedly encouraging suggestions sounded in his ear, and he felt that overwhelming need for her touch something so deep inside him that it stunned him.

Stunned? It terrified him.

"You love me." She purred, her white teeth biting hard into his neck. Her hip rose up to meet his down thrust, welcoming him eagerly back where he belonged.

"No." He growled as he slammed into her, fighting with himself. His denial was too quick too vehement, to mask the raw feelings underneath. Buffy sighed wistfully and clutched him closer… His body told her what his lips would not. She knew that he loved her. She knew too that someday she would get him to admit it.

Angelus felt her sigh beneath him and he clenched his jaw. He thrust into her with greater and greater need, unsettled by the profound sense of contentment that he found while buried deep inside her. Being with her… it felt as if this was where he was meant to be. Even as he wanted to deny it, he knew the truth. Still, he refused to mutter ever the smallest word of agreement. Instead, he kissed her again, deeply, passionately, his tongue searching her mouth.

Buffy threaded her fingers through his hair and held him close. Her hunger for him grew as she gave herself up to the sensations coursing through her.

With his mouth close to her ear, he growled, "You’re mine… Mine. MINE."

Finally, he bared his fangs and let out a primal roar. He lifted her, arching her into him as his fangs sank into her neck and he drank with unrestrained greed. Branding her as his own. Claiming her. Marking her.

Buffy surrendered with a high keening cry, climaxing in an explosive succession of spiraling orgasms, each more volatile than the one before, each melting into the next in a ceaseless swell. Shaken by the intensity of what had just passed between then, she clutched him close, savoring the heavy weight of him as the overwhelming rapture and delirium overtook her.

She had no words for the emotions coursing through her, nothing that seemed to come close to describe the love she felt for the demon in her arms. She knew she shouldn’t… but it couldn’t be helped. The force of her love was deeper than anything she had ever felt in her young life.

Stroking her hair, Angelus collapsed on her as he continued to drink, savoring the delicious nectar of her blood. He lost himself in her… the pleasure, the sweetness, the warmth… her absolute perfection. He wanted to linger, to drown in her welcoming flesh and blood for all eternity…

He lapped at the wound that would leave a scar, despite her Slayer healing powers and her new immortality. He chastised himself for taking too much blood as her pulse slowed, but still he reveled in the knowledge that doing so had not put her in danger.

Angelus smiled a feral smile as he rolled to his side, tucking Buffy against him tightly as he closed his eyes.

Angelus’ head came up with a jerk just as the door to the apartment flew open with a loud bang. He sat up on the bed, one arm still around Buffy, her slight form wrapped in the crimson bed sheet. A darker blood stain marred the front, one of the few signs of what had taken place earlier.

Giles stood in the doorway, a lethal looking crossbow aimed at them. Jenny stood behind him, holding up a wooden cross. After he had managed to knock out the men from the Council, he and Jenny had gone to Buffy's house. Finding her missing, they had come straight here to Angelus' apartment.

"Get out." The dark eyed vampire said coldly, instinctively drawing his mate protectively closer. "Or I will kill you and your woman."

With a shrewd observant gaze, Giles took in the scene in front of him. The magic potions, the candles, the smell of the herbs… he suspected was too late. He looked quickly back at Buffy, noting her apparently health as well as the dark stain on the sheet and the bloody knife.

"Do you know what you’ve done?" The Watcher asked Angelus coldly.

"Yes." The vampire replied arrogantly. Unconcerned about his own nudity, Angelus rose from the bed and retrieved his leather pants from the floor. He pulled them on then turned back to the bed, ensuring that Buffy was carefully covered.

"Buffy? Do you know what he’s done to you?" Giles asked, turning his attention her but kept watch on Angelus’ movements out of the corner of his eye.

"What?" Buffy sighed tiredly. She hadn’t wanted Giles to find out about her relationship with Angelus this way, nor was she prepared to deal with him right now. With a frustrated tone, she replied. "Yes, I know. I’m immortal now. That’s a good thing, isn’t it?"

"Did he tell you all of it?" The Watcher questioned sternly. "Did he tell you that you are now bound to him? You are only immortal only as long as he is… alive, if you can call it that. He dies, you die."

"Oh." The small surprised sound escaped her lips and she turned her green eyed gaze to Angelus, who appeared to be unconcerned. In fact, the vampire snorted derisively. He sat on the bed next to Buffy and took her hand.

"Don’t worry, lover. I have no intention of leaving you alone." The vampire lifted her hand and kissed it, his dark eyes intent on Giles, his gaze mocking.

The Watcher's shoulders sagged and he released a resigned sigh. "The Council is searching for you. They will find you."

"So, I’m a better Slayer now. Demons, vampires... they can't kill me. The Council should be happy." Buffy said with a shrug.

"You don’t understand Buffy. You are a disgrace to the Council." The Sunnydale high librarian stated bluntly. "It’s a shame to them that one of their Slayers has taken up with a Master Vampire. They are looking for you to kill Angelus. And that will kill you both."

Angelus snarled angrily. "Let them try."

Ignoring the vampire, Giles continued thoughtfully, "It’s better if you leave Sunnydale. I’ll inform the council that the Slayer has died, since well, technically you have, and they will call the next Slayer to watch over the Hellmouth."

"I’m not going to run and hide from them." In a fluid surge of power, Angelus came to his feet.

"No, I didn’t imagine you would." The Watcher turned to the vampire angrily. "But I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for Buffy. She may need some time to adjust to the- the … curse you have inflicted on her unwillingly. You have taken a young girl and make her life an abomination. In no way do I condone what you have done. In fact, the only thing that is stopping me from releasing this arrow into your heart is the fact that to do so I would kill the girl I love as my own daughter."

"Giles-" Buffy warned, scooting quickly to the edge of the bed and clutching the sheet around her modestly as she rose to her feet.

Angelus moved so quickly, knocking the crossbow out of Giles' hand and grabbing him by the throat that neither Watcher nor Slayer had seen him move. In a deceptively low, calm voice, he asked, "And why shouldn’t I kill you? You’re one of them."

"Angelus…" Buffy pleaded, reaching up to grab his arm. Her strength was still formidable; more so perhaps now that it had returned.

Slowly Angelus relaxed his grip on the Watcher.

"I can’t guarantee that the Council won’t find out or come after you. But that will be something you’ll have to deal with. I suggest you keep a low profile." Giles said, his eyes meeting Angelus’. In the few seconds that passed, the man and the demon seemed to reach some sort of accord.

"Get dressed." Angelus barked at Buffy. "I need to talk to Giles."

"You’re not going to … hurt him, are you?" She questioned softly, her gaze moving from one man to the other. "Because I can’t-"

"No. Just find something to wear. We’re leaving." The dark eyed vampire replied impatiently, his hand at her back guiding her toward the large armoire that sat at one end of the room.

Buffy’s house was quiet, her mom sleeping soundly when they crept through her bedroom window. She was wearing only a large silk shirt that belong to Angelus, having no other clothes at his apartment since he had brought her there wearing only a blanket.

Moving quickly and silently, almost too afraid to stop and think about the dramatic changes that were suddenly taking place in her life, Buffy threw several favorite items of clothing and some necessities in her bag.

Angelus grunted softly, noticing the stuffed pink pig sticking partially out of the overstuffed bag.

"How is this going to work? You. Me. Us. How will we live?" Buffy whirled around to face her demon lover as he paced silently around her room. "I still can’t let you kill anyone."

"Can’t?" He questioned with a slight lift of a brow. Despite his obsession with her, he was not to be commanded. She’d learn that soon enough; he would teach her. He smirked. Yes, he’d teach her - with a great deal of pleasure and, he suspected, some amount of pain. Still, something inside him responded to the hint of hysteria in her voice. He cupped her cheek in his palm, his thumb stroking the delicate bones in her face. "I’ll take care of you."

Buffy’s eyes searched his for a few long seconds before she dropped her gaze and zipped up her bag. Despite her reservations and hesitation, this felt… right. Like it was what she was meant to do, what she had been born for. There was no doubt in her mind, she belonged with him.

"We’ll work something out." The dark eyed vampire replied smoothly. He had no intention of giving up fresh blood or the thrill of the hunt and satisfaction of the kill but he’d find a way to compromise with her. He also knew that her Slayer nature would demand to be fulfilled. Like it or not, she would also need to hunt, to kill – almost as much as he did.

"So where are we going?" Buffy asked as she propped the neatly written note to her mother on the counter. After some consideration, she had simply written that she and Angel had made up and that she was running away with him. She used the excuse that she didn’t think anyone would accept them together given their age differences and she didn’t want to be subjected to their judgments and criticisms. She added a small post script at the bottom saying that she would write with her address once things were settled.

Behind Buffy’s back, Angelus pocketed the note. It would be better for Joyce to believe whatever story Giles deemed fit to tell. It was bad enough that the Watcher’s Council might be looking for them, he didn’t want Buffy’s mother contacting the authorities or trying to hunt them down. Not that he suspected she would given her past behavior, but he wasn’t one to leave loose ends.

"Well, my sweet," Angelus purred softly reaching for Buffy’s hand as she closed the door behind them. "I’m going to show you the world."

Hidden in the shadows, Giles watched from a distance until Buffy and Angelus disappeared into the darkness.

It was a sunny and beautiful Friday afternoon as Sunnydale High School mourned the loss of three more students.

The funeral services for Willow Rosenberg, Xander Harris and Buffy Summers were held early in the afternoon. Classes were dismissed for the day, giving the students the time off to grieve for their friends and classmates.

The coroner’s report listed their deaths as a car accident, although no one seemed to know where the trio had gotten the car, who was driving or what exactly had happened. Not to mention the odd fact that not a single body of the three was recovered.

The morning after the funeral, Giles, with the help of Oz and Larry visited the factory. Druscilla and Spike were no match for the surprise attack just before dawn of the well armed and well prepared Watcher. He took out each of Angelus’ children with well aimed shots from a crossbow. As Druscilla's ashes settled to the floor, Spike kept up his cocky and belligerent banter right until Giles shot him through the heart. The blonde vampire insisted lewdly that the young girl had asked to be turned... she had wanted to be a consort and slave to he and to Dru...

Oz, stoic and calm, was the one who took out Willow, driving the wooden stake through his girlfriend's heart.

In a letter dated two days after the funeral, Giles reported to the Council that the Slayer had died and that the three vampires responsible for her death had been found at the Factory and eliminated.

The following day, the former Watcher packed his things and left Sunnydale as well. He has not been seen or heard from since, although it has been rumored that he and Jenny live just south of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.

The End

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