"Love," he said quietly.

She scowled at him. Okay, maybe friendly fire wasn't the right term. She looked pissed – at him. Angel had assumed it was left over hostility at Xander that had her upset.

"I'm not yours, you know," she said bitterly. "You don't own me. I may be your childe but I'm not a mindless ... thing ... you can just order around."

He regarded her carefully. "Okay," he said slowly.

"Don't patronize me! This is serious!"

"What is wrong?" Angel asked evenly, holding himself in check. His demon wanted to show her just how much she did indeed belong to him, how much she was simply a possession to do with as he pleased. Angel paid him no mind, instead trying to discern what had set his lover off.

Buffy looked at him for a moment, lips tightly pursed. She then threw her hands up and screamed in frustration before turning on her heel and walking out into the garden. Angel looked around the room, making sure he was alone. He was alone. She was mad at him, very mad. He followed her out into the garden.

"Buffy, if you don't tell me what's wrong, I can't address the issue."

She glared at him again. "I'm a woman."

"I assure you, I *know* that," he said plainly.

"No you don't! I AM A WOMAN. Not a girl. Not a child or a ...childe," she blustered. "I have a mind. I'm liberated."

"Oh." Angel nodded as understanding dawned. "You're mad because you didn't stop me from going after Xander."

"NO! I'm mad because I *couldn't* stop you from going after Xander. What is going on with me?" she asked, her frustrations evident.

"It's not you, Buffy. That's just the way it is."

"Well, I don't want it to be like that! I don't want to play the Stepford wife to you!"

He watched her, sensing her turmoil. This was no laughing matter. "I love you," he said gently. "I assure you that you aren't being submissive just because I want it like that. Our demons dictate a lot of our nature. I've told you it doesn't have anything to do with me being male and you being female. It is Sire and childe and that is how it works. It was the same with Darla and myself."

Buffy stopped. Whatever lame comparison she had been expecting him to draw, that wasn't it.

"Darla?"

"Yes," he said evenly, wondering at the wisdom of bringing up his dead lover. "She was my Sire just as I am yours. I obeyed her will as you do mine."

"But you killed her."

"I know." With that, Angel turned and walked back into the mansion, leaving Buffy alone. She stared at his retreating form.

Up to this moment she hadn't given a second's thought to Angel staking his Sire. It had all seemed so straightforward. Darla was a skank, she was going to hurt the Slayer, Angel had killed her. End of story.

But now, to imagine if she had been in Angel's place. It had been hard enough to plunge the sword into his chest to save humanity seven months ago, given how much she loved him. Now she had no illusions, she wouldn't be able to do it if she had to today. She couldn't kill her Sire. He was the cornerstone of her existence. Angel had killed his own Sire to save her - a human. She didn't know how he had done it. True, Darla and Angel had been estranged for nearly a century when it happened, but Buffy couldn't imagine a time when she wouldn't find her own death preferable to her Sire's.

Slowly, she walked into the mansion and found him seated at the couch in front of the fireplace.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"It's all right, I know you're still getting used to this."

"That's not what I mean. I mean I'm sorry you had to kill Darla. I'm sorry I never realized how monumental an event that was for you."

He didn't look at her, instead staring into the embers. "I love you."

Buffy sat beside him on the couch. "Do you miss her?"

"Yes," he said bluntly.

The admission hurt Buffy, but oddly, not as much as she thought it would. Maybe it was because she could understand the importance of a Sire in a childe's life. She wasn't jealous. She longed to comfort him, to repay him for the pain he'd gone through on her account.

"What was she like?"

Angel turned his head and looked into Buffy's eyes. This wasn't some test she had for him, she really wanted to know, to understand.

"She was manipulative, vicious, merciless."

"Is that all?"

"No, definitely not," he said with a snort and a smile. "She was unbelievably complicated. She was also brilliant, fun, sexy, beautiful, witty, oddly vulnerable at times. She was my lover and constant companion for a century and a half."

"Why haven't you ever talked about her before?"

Angel kissed his childe softly on the lips. "Because you wouldn't have understood that I could have fond memories of her and still love you completely. You wouldn't have had any concept of how important she had been in my life."

"How did you do it?" she asked, her voice a mere whisper. "How did you kill her?"

"I don't know. Honestly, if I had it to do again I don't know if I could. All I knew was that you were in danger, I had to protect you. I didn't think, I just acted."

"And after you did it?"

"It was so much more painful than I ever could have imagined. After she shunned me, I spent a century searching for her. In truth I wasn't searching for her, I was searching for love, acceptance. It didn't matter, she wouldn't have me. She called me a freak, abandoned me. I think I convinced myself towards the end that she didn't mean anything to me, that I could walk away from her as easily as she walked away from me."

"Do you really think it was easy for her to walk away from you? I mean after a hundred and fifty years, she had to have felt something."

"At the time I thought she left me on a whim. She was so callous. I know now that her anger was hiding a lot pain. In a sense, Angelus abandoned her as much as she abandoned me. Darla was vicious, yes, but I think she was capable of love. Some demons are, like Spike. I wasn't. Angelus never loved anything in his entire twisted existence, but I think she loved him. Then I killed her."

"For me."

"Yes, Love, for you. She must have known by then that Angelus never loved her. She knew I loved you. She wouldn't have stopped until you were dead, just to spite me."

"Do you regret it?"

"No. You are my life, Buffy, my entire reason for living. I'm sorry if you feel like a Stepford wife, but I can't change the nature of our demons. I love you. I hate that you're unhappy with the situation."

"I'm not unhappy," she admitted. "I'm just mad that I'm not mad."

"How so?"

"The truth is, I *really* like it when you dominate me," she said, glad that she was no longer capable of blushing. "It fills me with so much pleasure. I don't understand that. It scares me that I don't want to rebel."

"It's a complicated process," he said compassionately. "Just because you enjoy being submissive to me doesn't mean that you're weak. It doesn't mean that you would ever enjoy being submissive to another being."

"Just you?"

"We don't know for sure, but it seems reasonable, yes."

They sat in silence for several minutes. Eventually, Buffy became aware that Angel was smiling.

"What's so funny?"

He instantly sobered. "Nothing."

"'Fess up."

"Nothing is *funny*, I'm just happy."

"About what?" she asked, crooking and eyebrow.

"You."

"Me?"

"Yes."

"Me, how? Exactly."

"Submissive, naked, screaming in pleasure," he said, grinning wolfishly.

"So you like me submissive?" she asked seductively.

"I like you any way I can have you, but submissive is *definitely* a turn on," he admitted baldly.

She smiled wickedly, sliding off the couch to kneel between his legs. Urging him back against the couch, she slowly unbuckled his belt and unzipped his fly. Her eyes never left his and she coudl easily read the lust there, knowing it was reflected in her eyes. Reaching inside his pants, she wasn't surprised to find him hard for her.

"And if I want to be in charge tonight?" she asked quietly.

"I'm all about compromise," he groaned.

"I thought you'd say that."

He helped her pull his black jeans down his legs to pool at his feet. Leaning forward again, she took him in her mouth, teasingly running her tongue around his foreskin, then slipping inside the tiny slit at the top. She could feel the muscles in his thighs tense and smiled. Grasping his cock with both hands, she began to rub him up and down, also using her tongue to lick him from root to tip. Angel moaned, running his fingers through her hair, urging her head down, wanting her to not just lick, but to take him inside her mouth. Buffy shook off his hands, having no desire to let him take charge. She continued to lick him teasingly.

In frustration he moaned, "Please."

The sound sent tingles of lust straight to her dripping center. Momentarily stopping her movements, she looked at him lustily, panting airlessly. Making sure he was watching her, she slowly took him inside her mouth, carefully sliding her lips over his turgid flesh. Concentrating on the fact that she didn't need to breathe, Buffy slowly moved him farther and farther down her throat, swallowing to suppress her gag reflex. To his amazement as well as her own, she managed to take him completely. She repeated the action again and again as she used one hand to gently massage his sac. Changing tactics, she focused only on keeping the head of his cock in her mouth while her hand stroked him forcefully. In moments, he was coming in waves into her waiting mouth. As she swallowed and pulled away, smiling broadly.

"You look very pleased with yourself," he noted once he had regained his composure.

"I am," she admitted shamelessly.

As Angel moved to get off the couch, Buffy stopped him with a look. "I'm *not* finished yet."

Angel smiled and sank back against the couch. He didn't have to wait long to figure out what she was up to. Buffy pushed herself off of her knees and stood. Taking a step back from him, she began shedding clothes. She gave a thought to performing some sort of a strip tease for him, but she was too damn impatient to feel him inside of her. When she was naked she straddled his seated form, rubbing his cock along her dripping folds. His hands came up to grasp her hips and together they guided her body onto his.

They moaned in unison, resting their foreheads against one another, reveling in the feeling of completion. Not moving, Buffy began to rhythmically clench her vaginal muscles around his hard cock. Angel moaned again, his fingertips biting into the flesh of her hips. He desperately needed her to move, but she needed to be in charge, to assert herself. He was not, however, above begging again.

"Please ..."

Taking pity on her Sire, her lover, her mate, Buffy began to rock on his hard length. Her movements started out languid but in short order she was slamming her hips up and down on his as he thrust up into her hungry passage. Feeling himself close to release and not wanting to leave her unsatisfied, Angel reached between their bodies and stroked her clit roughly. Buffy was whimpering, her vaginal muscles fluttering around his cock almost instantly as her orgasm began to crest. Wanting to make the sensation even more intense, Angel leaned forward, biting deeply into his childe's neck. Buffy screamed, her fingernails tearing into his shoulders as she exploded in bliss. The added pain sent Angel toppling after his mate, his semen coating her quaking depths.

As they calmed, Angel withdrew his fangs from Buffy's neck and she let go of his shoulders, brazenly licking the blood from each digit with flourish.

"I like being in charge," Buffy said with a sly grin.

Angel met her grin with one that was equally wolfish. "I know," he purred, flipping them and pinning her beneath him on the sofa.

She smiled up at him easily but he sobered quickly, staring down into her human countenance. "What?" she asked, her bottom lip sticking out in a pout.

"I know you want to be independent," he said cautiously. "I know how important it is to you and I'll do everything in my power to encourage it, but ... "

"But ... " she prompted.

"But there are times when you *must* abide by my wishes," he said seriously.

Buffy was still a fledgling, overwhelmed by her vampiric senses. She was probably unable to sort out the barrage of sensations she was inundated with. While subconsciously her apparent fixation on Spike might have alluded to the fact that on some level she was aware of him, Angel knew she wasn't cognizant of his approach. Angel himself had felt his wayward childe's approach for quite some time. Spike was being drawn back to Sunnydale and he was not looking forward to the vampire's arrival.

"I want you to promise me that you won't leave the mansion without me," he said calmly.

Buffy fought to maintain her neutral appearance. How could he be such a hypocrite? One second he tells her that he wants her to be independent, and the next, he's telling her she can't leave the house without him. What the hell?

"Buffy," he said slowly, his voice a low warning.

"Okay," she replied in clipped tones.

"I'm serious," he said.

"I know," she grumped, pushing him off of her and scrambling off the couch.

Angel let her go, satisfied that even if she wasn't thrilled at the prospect, that he could trust her to follow his instructions. He watched as she sauntered into their bedroom and contemplated whether he should let her have some time to herself.

Pushing himself off the couch, he decided she could have some alone time later.

The End

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