"No, it’s my fault," she said with a smile.

He stared at her blankly.  What did one say to a woman as attractive as the one standing before him?  Nothing apparently, he thought as he frantically searched for something to say, his mouth opening and closing silently as his mind churned fruitlessly.

"Hi," she said gently, understanding that he was nervous.  "My name is Jenny Calendar.  I’m the new computer teacher here.  I understand the last one met with a rather unfortunate barbequing accident."

"Barbequing?" Giles said absently.  No, Mr. Lambert had been killed by vampires, as was the case with most Sunnydale deaths.

"Fork tines in the neck, I believe I was told," she said with a smile that let him know she knew more than she was saying.

His vacant look left and he briefly shook his head to clear it.  "Ah, yes, fork tines, I believe that is what happened," he said lamely.

She laughed lightly.  "Yeah, well, I was wondering what, if any, sort of computer resources were available here.  I’m afraid there wasn’t much in Mr. Lambert’s supplies.  I was rather hoping maybe some of it had been relocated to the library while the position was vacant."

"Uh, no," he said with finality.  In the interest of not offending the unbelievably attractive woman, he left out the part where computers would be allowed in his library right after hell froze over.

"Not fond of the electronic age?" she asked insightfully.

"That may be a little harsh," he said with a smile.  "We’ve agreed to avoid each other."

She smiled in return.  "Does that mean you’re available?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow saucily.

He couldn’t believe his luck.  "Rupert Giles, Sunnydale High librarian at your service, Miss Calendar."

Angel held still, his hands resting lightly on Buffy’s hips as she gently prodded at his slowly healing face.  He was shocked that she seemed to be handling it so well.  Fearing that she’d be even more upset about the Darla situation, he’d considered not letting her see him until he healed, but the desire to be near her quickly quelled those thoughts.

However, Buffy wasn’t upset, at least not in the manner he thought she would be.  To some extent, it seemed that she was even more confident that there was nothing between him and Darla – at least nothing of the warm and fuzzy variety.  The gashes inflicted by his Sire were scabbed over, but a long way from gone, the skin itched fiercely.  He scrunched up his face in an effort to alleviate some of the discomfort.

"What are you doing?" Buffy asked, running her finger gently along one deep groove as he contorted his face.

"It itches," he half whined, much more dramatically than was necessary.

Buffy made a pouty face at him and then leaned forward to gently kiss his wound.  He halfheartedly attempted to disguise how much her babying of him was improving his mood.

"Good," she said soberly, "that means it’s healing."

"Itching is not good," he said in a huff.

Buffy smiled.  She knew he wasn’t kidding about the itching, but she also knew he was loving the fact that she was fussing over him.

"Is there anything that would make it better?" she asked seriously.  "I doubt vamp skin is much on Aloe Vera."

"No," he said dejectedly.  "I just have to wait for it to heal.  I’ve already fed, that’s about all I can do."

Angel growled grumpily.  He was sitting in a chair around the library conference table, Buffy was perched on top of the table in front of him, leaning forward to study his wounds.  He was trying to be subtle as he stole glances down her shirt while she bent towards him.

"Do you?" she asked more loudly since she’d failed to get his attention the first time.

"Do I what?" Angel asked, embarrassed that he’d been caught not paying attention ... to her voice.

"Want some?" she asked, exasperated as she held up her hand.

His brow furrowed.  "Some what?"

"Some of my blood?"  She shook her wrist as if to illustrate the point.

"What?" Giles screeched from the check-out counter, fixing his Slayer with a murderous glare.

The entire room was silent.  Buffy looked around, slightly mortified.  She hadn’t realized that everyone was privy to her conversation with Angel.  Everyone’s attention seemed riveted on the petite blonde.

"What?" she asked her Watcher sheepishly.  "I’m a Slayer.  My blood is like the vamp equivalent of Popeye’s spinach or something, right?"

Giles’ glare didn’t let up.  "Yes, Buffy, your blood is much more powerful than the average human’s, especially to vampires."

"Yeah," she said more boldly.  "So if Angel drinks some of it, he’ll heal like super fast, right?"

"That would stand to reason," Giles said through clenched teeth.

"What?" Buffy whined, throwing her hands up in frustration.  "It’s not like I’m letting some overgrown leech fresh out of the grave gnaw on me.  It’s Angel."

"It’s the idea, Buffy," Giles hissed, retreating into his office for another cup of tea with a healthy splash of whiskey in it.  This girl was determined to test all of his limits.

"So are you?" Larry asked Angel curiously, his vision darting between the vampire and Slayer.

"That’s none of your business," Angel spat, startling Buffy with his possessive manner.

Cordelia didn’t say anything, knowing full well just how profound of an effect Buffy’s blood could have on Angel.  In another world, it had saved his life.  There was little doubt that it would make his wounds heal faster, but she doubted the dark vampire would agree to such a thing, at least not without coercion.

Seeking to relieve the tension, Oz changed the subject.  "So who was the woman who was in here earlier?  I’ve never seen her before."

To everyone’s shock, Giles blushed.  "Uh ... I didn’t ... uh realize that you had seen Jenny – er Miss Calendar," he flustered.

"Miss Calendar?" Cordelia asked, in what she hoped wasn’t a shocked tone.

"Y-Yes," Giles said, regaining composure.  "Jenny Calendar is the new computer teacher here at the high school."

Cordelia fought to breathe normally.  Jenny Calendar was still alive in this world.  How could she have forgotten about something like that?  This held so many possibilities she hadn’t dared to entertain before.  She had to find the gypsy, fast.

"It worked," Spike purred into the redhead’s ear.

"Really?" Willow asked as she pushed herself up off of his chest, preferring the dominant position as she rocked on her new lover’s body.  She was beginning to change her mind about Spike.  How had she overlooked all of the potential he held?

"The Bitch came home," he stopped to groan as Willow’s vaginal muscles clenched around his sex, "just before dawn.  I could smell Angel’s blood on her."

"Blood?" Willow hissed, picking up her pace.  "She actually went after Angel?’

Spike growled, unable to continue the conversation.  He clamped his hands tightly around Willow’s hips, guiding her faster up and down along his thick length.  She was magnificent.  He gave a fleeting moment’s thought to Dru and the pain this encounter would bring to her, but pushed it from his mind as Willow’s sheath began to flutter around his cock.  The hot little redhead was turning out to have a much more profound effect on him than he would have ever imagined.

"Buffy," Angel growled in frustration, walking away from her and down the sidewalk towards Sunny Rest cemetery.

"Not you too," she whined.  "Why is this such a big deal?"

He stopped walking and turned to stare at her.

"It just is," he bit out.

"I don’t work for the Psychic Friends Network," she said by way of explanation.

Angel’s brow furrowed.  "The what?"

"Psychic Friends ... oh never mind," she spat.  "I mean I can’t read your mind.  Tell me why this is such a big deal.  I’m not asking you to turn me or drain me or anything, just a couple of sips."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Come back here!" she yelled at his once again retreating form.

When he didn’t turn around, she jogged after him.  He was inside the walls of Sunny Rest before she caught up with him.  Looking around, she found him leaning against the side of the Von Hoth monument, his forehead resting on the cool marble.  The stone was soothing to the healing cuts on his face but mostly he wanted to ram his head into it in frustration.

"I don’t get it," she said quietly, coming to stand by him.  "You’re hurt, you’re in pain.  I can fix you just by letting you drink a little.  Why won’t you let me?  I won’t be in any danger."

He turned his eyes to face her and they were no longer filled with anger or frustration.  It looked suspiciously like guilt he was feeling.

"You shouldn’t have to do that, Buffy," he said quietly.

"Why not?  I’m not grossed out by this, why are you?  Is this because you’re ashamed you’re a vamp?"

He closed his eyes as he sought patience.  "You don’t understand what you’re asking me," he explained.

"Sure I do," she said flippantly, growing tired of him trying to protect her by keeping her in the dark.  "You vamp out, bite down, blood.  Ta da, we’re finished and you’re all better.  Vamps bite people all the time.  I don’t get why you’re so freaked."

Patience eluded him and he growled again, grabbing her forcefully by the wrist and pulling her in front of him, pinning her body between his and the monument.  Buffy fought back a whimper as he pressed into her, his arousal at the thought of feeding from her evident.  He craned his head towards hers, his unnecessary breath stirring against the shell of her ear.

"It’s not that simple, Buffy," he said quietly.  "I am a vampire.  If I feed from you, my human lover, there will be consequences.  Giles knows that too, that’s why he was upset."

Buffy swallowed harshly.  Maybe she had been a little blasé about the whole situation.

Her tongue darted out to wet her dry lips, and she asked, "What implications?"

He stifled a groan.  Damn it!  She wasn’t scared or cautious, just curious, intrigued even.  It was taking every ounce of strength he had to keep her at bay.  As it was, he was afraid the explanation would be his undoing, or rather what he feared would be her reaction.

"It wouldn’t be the same as a regular vamp attack," he explained slowly.  "I wouldn’t be feeding from you for sustenance or survival.  If you give me part of yourself willingly, and knowingly, it will create a bond."

"A bond?"

He could feel her heart rate increase.  This didn’t bode well for his self control.  How was he supposed to tell her now when all he wanted to say was yes?

"Puppy is still alive, isn’t he?" Willow asked after she had regained composure.  She was lying on Spike’s chest, content for the moment to stay within the loose circle of his arms.

"Darla may be a master of mind games, but she’s no match for Angelus physically.  He could take The Bitch down in a heartbeat.  She probably found him and tried to scratch out his eyes or something equally stupid," he explained with a snarl.  He hated Darla.

"Well, if she smelled like his blood, she must have gotten in a few good swipes," Willow mused.

"I s’pose, Pet," Spike said, idly stroking her hair.  "What about the rest of the plans?"

Willow laughed.  "We just wait.  If the Slayer is as nasty as she seems, she won’t be pleased with Darla hurting her pet vampire."

"You’re sure they’re an item?" Spike asked, cocking an eyebrow.  He still wasn’t completely convinced that Angel could get that close to a Slayer without being staked.

"I’m sure.  I know how to check my sources," she explained with a grin.  "I found out all about you, didn’t I?"

Spike grinned wickedly, twisting to pin her underneath his aroused body.  "Reading about it and experiencing it are two different things, Pet."

"I know," she said with an equally wicked smile.

Underneath him, Willow giggled naughtily.  She’d checked very thoroughly into Spike’s past and had learned some very interesting things.  For one, Angelus was a very hands-on Sire.  His childer were well disciplined and he didn’t have many, meaning he devoted a lot of time and attention to the ones he did have.  It was a given that Spike had been his possession and Willow found herself aroused anew at that thought.

Inhaling her scent deeply Spike cocked an eyebrow at her and asked, "Ready for another go round luv?"

"Always," she hissed just before his lips descended on hers.

Threading her fingers though his hair, Willow held Spike to her, running her tongue enticingly along his budding fangs.  Her submission, her encouragement of his dominance enflamed him.  As his fangs lengthened completely, Willow slit the underside of her tongue on one and offered it to her lover.  Spike accepted gleefully, nursing roughly on her wound.

With an exasperated sound, Angel backed away from Buffy, causing her to stumble.  She had been leaning against him, pushing into him heavily.  Angel noted wryly he was going to have to find some new techniques.  Obviously he wasn’t being overly intimidating if the person he wished to cow was pressing their body into his in wanton invitation.

Of course, maybe it was just Buffy, she tended to react to him differently than anyone else he’d ever known.  He had to suppress the urge to smile.  He had to be firm.

"Come on.  I’ll explain things at the house," he said, reaching for her hand and heading down the sidewalk towards the townhouse she shared with Cordelia.

"Hi, can I help you?" Jenny Calendar asked as the young brunette girl walked into her office.  Though the older woman seemed pleasant, the hand underneath her desk tightly gripped a stake.

"Um, this is going to sound ... well, a little odd ... never mind," she blustered.  "Hi, my name is Cordelia Chase."

The girl extended her hand and Jenny could clearly see the gold cross on her necklace.  With a sigh of relief she took her hand and shook it in greeting after settling the stake on her lap.

"I know this is going to sound crazy," Cordelia said nervously, "but I need to talk to you about a few things."

"Okay," Jenny said with a wary expression.  "What would you like to talk about?"

"Vampires."

Jenny dropped the stake in shock as she stood up.

"Cordy!" Buffy called as she took a seat on the sofa, looking up expectantly at Angel.

"She’s not here," she said to her lover, "now talk.  You said it would create a bond."

Angel sighed overly dramatically as he looked at the eager little blonde.  Giving in, he took off his jacket, throwing it over the back of a nearby chair and toed off his shoes before joining her on the couch.

"Yes," he said in answer.  "It will create a bond."

"What kind of bond?"

"Remember when Willow had the minion bond with Larry?"

"It would do that?" Buffy said, making a face.  "But how?  Larry and Willow weren’t lovers?"

Angel held up a hand to quiet the Slayer.  "You’re getting ahead of me," he said gently.  "I didn’t say it would create a minion bond ... but it would be ... similar ... in some respects."

"How so?"

"Remember how we had to do the cloaking spell so Willow couldn’t find Larry?"

Buffy nodded.

"It would be similar in that respect.  I would always be aware of you physically, you would be able to do the same with me."

"So?" Buffy asked, nonplussed.  "What’s the big there?  So we’d know where each other is, why is this an issue?"

"There’s more," he said, fighting for patience.

Buffy sat quietly and it almost killed her.  She was beyond frustrated with his cryptic replies.

"We would be able to feel each other’s emotions to some extent."

"Again, not understanding the problem," she said impatiently.

"And it would be *permanent*," Angel said with finality.

"Permanent?"

"Both the bond and the bite from my feeding would last as long as we both exist.  Forever.  Until one of us dies.  Consort bonds cannot be broken."

Buffy swallowed.  "Okay, so we would know where each other was and be able to feel each other’s emotions … and I’d have a scar.  Not like I don’t already have a few scars," she said self-consciously touching her lips.  "Why is this a bad thing?"

With a sigh, Angel said, "You don’t get it.  This ... *thing* ... we have between us, Buffy ... you know I love you, but there is no guarantee that it will work out.  If you find someone else ... "

"I won’t," she said decisively.

Angel smiled gently at her naiveté.  "Neither of us knows, that, Buffy.  You’re still so young.  A bond like this is permanent.  If things don’t work out, we’re still stuck with each other until death.  We’ll still know where each other is every second of the day and we’ll still be able to feel each other ... always.  It would never be over between us.  It would be more binding than even marriage."

"Marriage?" Buffy squeaked.  It was hard enough to get Angel to take her out for coffee, here they were discussing something more binding than marriage.

Willow lay in bed for a long while after Spike had departed, savoring his scent as it lingered on her skin.  As much as her pride, her ambition, and her selfishness demanded it, she could not deny that he was making an indelible mark on her consciousness.  He was maddeningly over confident, filled with a male arrogance that she loathed, but she could not deny that he inspired her in a way that no one had since her beloved Xander.  Not even her Sire and Master had evoked such responses from her long head heart.  Xander, she had understood.  His presence had been central to her life for as long as she could remember.  Her connection to him had begun while they were both human children and it had only intensified when she made him her Childe.

Some part of her had always resented the emotional hold Xander had over her, especially since she was Sire.  She had, however, dealt with it.  Her need of him was something that was knit into her very cells.  His death had been painful, but she had hidden it from everyone, knowing that her grief would make her weaker.  She had also vowed that *no one* would ever hold that degree of sway with her again.

And now she feared she would not be able to keep that promise to herself.  She hated Spike, but she already felt herself beginning to depend on him.  He seemed to be the one creature in the world that could inspire her to anything besides boredom.  Hating him made her feel alive, vital, potent ... and because of that she feared she was falling in love with him.

Buffy was quiet for several long moments, considering Angel’s words as well as his emotions.  Behind his anger, frustration and guilt was … fear.  She could feel that it wasn’t a fear of her or of a commitment to her.  He was afraid to do this, afraid that she would one day leave him and that he would be stuck with an ever-present awareness of her.

"And if it does work out?" she asked.

"If it does?"

"Yeah," she said seriously.  "If things do work out between us and we do get happily ever after, what then?  What would the bond mean for us in that situation?"

"That is beside the point," he said firmly.  "I am *not* doing this, Buffy, especially for something as stupid as a few scrapes.  It would kaleidoscope our relationship in ways you cannot imagine and are not ready for.  The answer is *NO*."

Buffy looked at him nonplussed, but didn’t seem inclined to argue.  Perhaps she had finally realized the gravity of what it was she was offering.  It was a daunting prospect, eternity, or the human equivalent thereof with someone she’d only known for a few months and who was her first love and lover.  It would be stupid to rush into it.

"Fine, your answer is no, but I still want an answer to my other questions," she said quietly.  "*If* we did this, and we did end up together, happily, what would the bond do for us?"

Damn, she was good at reading between the lines.  He bit down on his bottom lip as he looked at her.  He considered lying, but found himself unable to do it.

"It would be … wonderful," he finally admitted, averting his gaze.  "It would make us closer than we believe possible."

Buffy smiled.  "That’s what I thought."

He smiled at her briefly and then sobered again.  "There would be other issues to consider," he said.

"Such as?"

He averted his eyes uncomfortably as he considered how to phrase his concerns.  "We would have to let Giles know," he said.

"Uh, huh," Buffy replied, teasing him as she felt how uncomfortable he was with the situation.  "He’s my Watcher, not my keeper.  I don’t need him to sign off on this."

"But he would know," Angel pointed out, "*if* we ever decided to do it, I mean."

"So?  If he’s so damn worried about it, he could watch," she said brashly, grinning like a fool.

"I wouldn’t recommend that," he replied in icy tones with just a hint of a growl.

Buffy sobered instantly and looked at him.  "Why not?" she asked cautiously, confused by his jealousy.

"I’m not in the habit of letting other males watch when I make my mate come," he explained wickedly, turning the tides and making her uncomfortable.

"Huh?" Buffy squeaked, her skin pinkening with a blush.

"The bond," he clarified, "when it is formed and every time I bite you thereafter, you’ll climax."

"Oh," she said, trying not to sound scandalized, which she was.

A thought hit her and she asked, "Was it like that with Larry and Willow?"

Angel smiled.  "No, love.  Only two bonds are like that, Consort bonds, and the bond between vampiric childer and their Sire."

Buffy nodded.  "And Giles would know this ... theoretically?" she asked again.

"Yes, Buffy, he would definitely know.  And so would everyone else, eventually.  The scars formed in Consort bonds are traditionally in a very visible place, usually the neck, but sometimes the wrist.  The scars are symbolic as well as functional.  They let the world know that the human who wears the scar is the bound lover of a vampire.  It would be an embarrassment to a Watcher if his Slayer’s neck bore such a scar."

"Ducks," Spike called as he entered the lair.

He couldn’t sense Darla but he knew Drusilla was near.  Entering the dimly lit library, he saw her curled in one of the large chairs asleep.  He sat down in one of the chairs across from her and watched.  She was eternally beautiful, eternally his dark goddess, but … something was changing, something inside of him.  Much to his surprise, Willow was bring a vitality and awareness to his life that he hadn’t realized was missing.  How many decades had he allowed Darla to dictate every aspect of his life?  How had he ever allowed that?

With a simple glance, he had his answer.  Drusilla.  Darla was her grandmummy and Dru would never willingly leave her side, not even for him.  He had been completely unwilling to leave Dru so he stayed as well and faced Darla’s wrath.  He’d been so confused at first, so lost in the wake of Angelus’ leaving that he hadn’t even noticed how much things had changed.  Little by little the bitch had taken over his life, twisted his existence until he was a mere shell of his former self … all because of his devotion to his dark goddess.  Dru was the pawn Darla had used for leverage.  Without Dru, Darla had nothing on him.

He silently cursed himself.  He’d come to Sunnydale in search of a cure for Dru, something to revitalize her waning strength.  He hadn’t admitted to himself until just recently that in order to accomplish that task, he would have to kill Darla.  Dru would be crushed.  Odds were that even if he restored her strength, she would never be satisfied with him.  Her already fragile mental state might very well crumble into utter oblivion.

What the hell was he going to do?  He still loved Dru, but now it was tempered with darkness and hatred that he could not separate from his love.  How was it possible to worship someone and loathe them at the same time?  He laughed silently.  Wasn’t that exactly what he had done with Angelus?  Look how well that turned out.

He sobered once again as he looked at Dru.  She was weak, very weak, and getting worse every day.  And he couldn’t help but think of how Willow would look in their bed.

"Vampires?" Jenny asked as innocently as she could.  "I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.  If you’re looking for something on mythology I’m sure Mr. Giles could point you to the appropriate books."

"Don’t play games with me," Cordelia said firmly.  The entire world had almost paid for the Kalderash’s shortsightedness once, she wasn’t about to let that happen again.  "I know you’re here to watch Angel, to punish him, and I won’t let you hurt him."

Jenny studied the girl for several long moments and decided against trying to prolong her charade.  "What do you want?" she asked quietly.

"Are you going to hurt Angel?" she asked.

"No," Jenny said.  "I’m simply here to keep an eye on him.  Our people had lost track of him for a number of decades.  He was living outside of society.  It recently came to our attention that he had surfaced again, here in Sunnydale."

"And you’re just here to make sure he’d doing okay?" Cordelia asked sardonically.

"We’re here to make sure that he pays for his crimes."

"How do you plan to do that?" Cordy asked.  She was certain part of her wish had stipulated that there was no clause in Angel’s curse.

"By alerting the Slayer and her Watcher to his presence.  That should take care of things.  If she doesn’t kill him, she will surely run him out of town."

Cordy actually laughed at that one.  "Guess again.  Angel is good now, he had paid for the demon’s crimes.  He helps the Slayer."

"Helps?" Jenny asked, aghast.

"Yes."

"Is that why you’re here?" Jenny asked.  "You want me to believe that creature has actually changed."

"No," Cordy replied flippantly.  "I’m not here to convince you of anything, but I will tell you that if you go anywhere near Angel, you’re the one who is going to have to worry about the Slayer."

"Is that a threat?"

"No, it’s a promise."

"And if I don’t believe you?"

Cordy’s expression was icy.  She’d never known how good Jenny was at playing hardball.  "I can make things *very* unpleasant for you in this town, but I don’t want to.  I know how much you have to offer, how much you could help us fight evil.  I want you to join us."

"What exactly do you think I have to offer?" Jenny asked skeptically.

"The power to curse a vampire with its human soul," Cordy stated baldly.

Buffy considered the things that Angel had said about Giles.  Her mind wandered back to a certain comment he had made.

"Mate?" she said quizzically, looking at him.

Angel sat stone still, not even blinking.  He hadn’t even realized he’d let that slip, or that she had picked up on it.  So much for Mr. Cool.

"I heard you," Buffy said when he didn’t respond.  "You called me your mate."

Unable to do anything else, Angel nodded.  He noted to himself that they had been talking about things in theory, but he didn’t think it would be wise to point that out.  Besides, Buffy was right.  He had called her his mate and he hadn’t been talking in hypothetical terms.  The fact that he hadn’t intended to say it out loud was beside the point.

"What does that mean ... exactly?" she asked with a small smile playing on her lips.

Before Angel could respond, she crawled towards him on the couch and into his lap.  Straddling him, she held his face in her hands – gently, mindful of his wounds – so he couldn’t look away.

With an unnecessary sigh, he said, "Vampires don’t date, Buffy.  There’s generally a ... a lot of sex, but no lasting attachments unless they’ve taken a mate."

Her smile was positively blinding as she said, "And you’ve ... taken a mate?"

He growled quietly.  She was doing this on purpose.  She knew how awkward talking about it made him feel and she was forcing him to lay his emotions on the line.

"That depends," he said quietly.

"On what?"

"On whether or not you want me."

She studied him very carefully for a long moment before saying, "Of course I want you."

Angel released a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding.  Some part of his mind registered the insanity behind him holding his breath, but he ignored it.

"Does this mean we’ll bond?" she asked quietly.

Damn it!  She was back to the damn bond again.

"Buffy," he said plaintively.  "I don’t know.  Right now, I don’t think either one of us is ready for that.  Maybe someday ... but for now I think we should wait."

Buffy’s lower lip stuck out in a pout.  "Darla hurt you," she said quietly, "and I want to make it better."

Angel smiled.  "You already made it better."

Giles looked up from the book he was studying.  It was close to midnight, but he was still in his office, not a rare occurrence to be sure.  It was, however, decidedly odd to hear something moving around in the library.  Buffy and Angel were on patrol, Ford was restrained and Oz and Larry had gone home.  Quietly as he could, Giles rose and looked out the window.

"Ah, Cordelia," he said with relief, "and Jenny," he added quickly.

The Watcher’s vision flicked nervously between the two.  What on earth was going on?

"Miss Calendar has a few things she needs to tell you," Cordelia stated.

"Tell me ... have you gone insane Miss Chase?" Giles asked in mortification.

"She’s not crazy," Jenny admitted reluctantly.  "I’m afraid I wasn’t completely honest with you earlier, Mr. Giles."

"I’m afraid I don’t understand," Giles said nervously.

"Miss Calendar isn’t just the new computer teacher," Cordelia offered.  "She was sent here to watch Angel."

Giles brow furrowed and he instantly switched into Watcher mode, re-evaluating Miss Calendar.  "Sent here by whom?" the Watcher asked.

"I’m a Kalderash gypsy," Jenny said proudly.  "I was sent here by my people to make sure the beast suffers."

"A Kalderash gypsy?"  Giles asked, the name sounding oddly familiar.

"They’re the vindictive jerks that cursed Angel with his soul," Cordelia spat.

"So exactly how long do you plan to wait ... on other things?" Buffy asked with a mischievous glint in her eyes.  "I mean, if I’m your mate and all."

Angel gave her a coy lopsided grin.  "Why, Miss Summers, I have no idea what you’re talking about."

Moving her body closer to his, Buffy rubbed against him, feeling his evident arousal pressing into her softness. Both of their breaths caught at the contact.

"I think you have some idea," she whispered into his ear, feeling tingly all over from the thrill of playing this game.

All of her life, Buffy had felt like an ugly duckling, a freak.  But Angel always made her feel beautiful.  He gave her the courage to give into her desires to play aggressor.  His need for her was so overpowering that it spurred her on to behavior she never would have dreamed of.

With a growl, Angel flipped her over on her back on the sofa and quickly covered her body with his, capturing her lips in a demanding kiss.  Buffy met his ardor easily and brought her jean clad legs up to wrap around his hips.  As they kissed, their tongues gently molesting each other’s mouths, their lower bodies ground together deliciously.  Grabbing the hem of the tank top Buffy wore, Angel pulled it over her head ... and nearly combusted on the spot.  He stared, immobile, at the sight before him.

"Like it?" Buffy asked with a grin.  "Cordy took me shopping yesterday.  You wouldn’t believe how much money that girl spent on underwear."

Angel couldn’t speak.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t seen lingerie like the kind she was wearing before.  He had spent a century and a half as a soulless demon.  It was just ... well ... most of the time, he was prepared for these things.  When you were bedding one of the most talented whores in Paris, you were expecting undergarments like the flimsy network of fabric which was making a failing attempt at covering her heaving chest.  On Buffy, however, he’d been expecting something of the white cotton variety that she always wore.  White cotton suited Buffy.  It was chaste, pure, innocent, just like the Slayer.  The expensive black lace and silk garment she was wearing was ... well ... *not*.

Her brow furrowing, Buffy asked, "Is that a yes or a no?"

Angel blinked as if he was having trouble understanding what she was asking.  "Yes or no to what?"

She sighed in exasperation.  "Do you like the bra?"

He stared at her as if she had just asked the stupidest question in the history of humanity.  He did not deign to give her a reply.  As Buffy opened her mouth to complain, Angel latched onto her pebbled nipple through the silk and began to suck roughly.  Hissing in surprise and pleasure, the Slayer twined her fingers through his hair and held him firmly to her chest.  Angel purred in approval.  He thrust against her roughly and her head arched back as she shut her eyes and moaned aloud.

"Angel," she whimpered quietly as he shifted his attention to her other breast.

He growled in response.

"So ... you uh ... just felt like buying something different?" he asked hesitantly around his ministrations on her breasts.

Pulling her head up she looked at him with a very goofy grin.  "I bought it for you." she said quietly, sounding unbelievably innocent.

Angel was torn between wanting to gently cuddle her as he quoted a thousand different poets in a lame attempt to explain to her how much she meant to him ...

... and the slightly more appealing desire to strip her naked and introduce her to a myriad of carnal acts that would no doubt destroy her innocence entirely.

He settled for staring at her blankly.

"Angel?" she asked, afraid she’d said something wrong when he didn’t respond.

"I love you," he blurted out.

A slow smile broke over her features, nearly blinding him with its intensity.  "I know," she said happily.  "I love you too."

Inching up her body, he once again captured her lips in a deep kiss.  Buffy responded without restraint, gripping the back of his head in both of her tiny hands.  Breaking the kiss, Buffy pulled her head back to look in his eyes.

"Make love to me, Angel," she pled breathlessly.

Angel was silent as Buffy ducked her head under his chin, apparently mortified by her wanton words.  He hadn’t thought he could get any more aroused than he already was, but at her tentative request, his body throbbed anew with lust.

Maneuvering his head around hers, Angel whispered in her ear, "Is that what you want, baby?"

Her face now pressed tightly against his shoulder, she nodded her assent without speaking.

"You have to tell me."

Mustering the courage to look at him, Buffy met his gaze.  "I want you," she said baldly.

"Are you sure you’re ready?" he asked gently.  "We don’t have to rush this.  I can wait, Buffy."

She smiled gently, but it was tinged with sadness.  "I face death every night, Angel.  I don’t want to die without knowing what it’s like to be with you, to love you ... completely."

Angel’s heart was gripped by icy fear.  "You’re not going to die," he said, his voice harsh.

She smiled again, gently running her fingers through is hair.  "I’m human, love.  It is inevitable."

Angel could almost hear the words coming out of Crossgate’s mouth.  How often had the Watcher given Buffy that speech?  He wanted to track her down and rip her heart out, but ... well ... Buffy was warm and wanton and writhing underneath him, so it would have to wait until later.

"Inevitable, maybe," he said as he bent to nibble on her earlobe, "but if you do die, you will be old and gray and surrounded by a pack of little blonde grandchildren who call you Nana Buffy."

She giggled, but then pulled back to look at him with a quizzical expression on her face.  "You’re a vampire," she said simply.  "I won’t be able to have grandkids."

Angel groaned, both at the heartbreak her words caused him and at the fact that she was telling him she wanted his children.  He couldn’t give her any, his body had been dead for two and a half centuries.  She didn’t seem to mind.  Her statement implied that if she couldn’t have his children, she wouldn’t have any.

"Later," he hissed, pulling her lips back to his, "we’ll talk about all of this again later."

Without a word, Angel stood up.  Buffy frowned at him, but he quickly lifted her off the couch to stand next to him.

"What are you doing?" she asked in confusion.

"We should probably go upstairs," he said with a smirk.  "I don’t really want Cordelia walking in on us."

The thought sobered Buffy instantly.  "Oh, yeah, good idea."

Grabbing her hand, Angel pulled her behind him as he ascended the stairs to her bedroom.  Buffy bit her bottom lip nervously, but followed without hesitation.  She was ready for this.  But being ready didn’t stop her stomach from feeling like it was filled with butterflies.

Stopping outside the bathroom door, Buffy murmured nervously, "I, um, need to ... "

Angel smiled and nodded.  "I’ll wait in your room," he said gently.

Sliding the bathroom door shut, Buffy leaned back against it, unable to believe how fast her heart was beating.  Why was she nervous?  It wasn’t like she hadn’t been naked with him before on multiple occasions.  They had definitely done *everything* but ... well ... you know.  And she wanted this, *really* wanted this.

Turning to face herself in the mirror, Buffy frowned at her reflection.  She still didn’t understand how Angel was always telling her she was beautiful.  The scar across her lips was startlingly prominent given how flushed she was at the moment.  And then there was the way she looked in this ridiculously expensive bra.  It wasn’t like she *really* filled it out or anything, of course, Angel had looked fairly impressed ... Buffy wasn’t about to let her insecurities stop her.  Regardless of what she thought about her appearance, Angel was obviously turned on by it and she was going to use that to her fullest advantage.

Sliding a stray lock of hair behind her ear, Buffy checked over herself.  This was as good as it was going to get.  Mustering all of the confidence she could, Buffy shed her jeans, dropping them into the hamper in the bathroom.  She realized too late that her shirt was  probably lying on the couch downstairs.  Too bad.  She’d get it later.  Cordy had a silk kimono style robe hanging on the back of the door, Buffy took it, wrapping it self consciously around her meagerly clad form and slipping from the room.

Angel was staring out the window into the darkened night when Buffy entered the room.  He didn’t turn around immediately, but listened intently as he heard the stirring of silk, like something being untied.  Moving to face her, he stopped, staring openly.

Blushing violently and nervously shifting her weight back and forth between the balls of her feet, Buffy was pressed back against her bedroom door.  She wore a blood red kimono robe decorated with golden dragons that hung open, the belt hanging loose in the loops.  Angel saw now that her bra was part of a matched set of black silk and lace that was partially obscured by the robe.

"Come here," he said, his voice hoarse with desire.

Buffy complied wordlessly, walking across the room to where he stood.  He watched intently, catching flashes of skin as her movements caused the crimson fabric to glide across her skin.  By the time she came to a stop in front of him, he was afraid he wasn’t going to be able to control himself.

"Buffy," he rasped.

She looked up at him questioningly, her trusting expression causing his heart to wrench almost painfully.  Gods he loved her.

"You’re *sure* you want to do this?"

She nodded and then focused her attention on his chest, tentatively bringing her hands up to unbutton his shirt.  Angel took in a deep, unnecessary breath as her tiny, nimble fingers made quick work of the buttons.  He wanted to push her down onto the bed and ram into her hot, tight little body ... but this wasn’t about him.  Tonight was for her and he was going to let her take the lead.

Shrugging out of his shirt, Angel gathered her against his body.  He could feel how nervous she was, how her body was shaking involuntarily with tension.  He hugged her tightly.

"I won’t hurt you," he whispered gently into her ear.

"I-I know," she said with a small smile as she looked up at him.

Snaking a hand between their bodies, Buffy tugged at his belt.  Her previous dexterity vanished as she fumbled with the buckle, her hands shaking.  Sensing her nervousness, Angel put his hand over her, stilling her movements.

"Let’s wait a while on that," he said quietly, leading her over to the bed.

At his urging, she crawled on top of her covers, nervously pulling the robe around her body.  As Angel joined her on the bed, he pulled her body tightly against his own, kissing her deeply.  Buffy responded eagerly as always, opening her mouth for his questing tongue.  He broke off the kiss and made his way across her jaw to her ear where he nibbled on the tender lobe for long, languorous moments.  Slowly releasing the lobe from his mouth, his mouth continued it’s journey down her neck, gently biting into her flesh with his still blunt teeth.  Buffy could not stop a breathy moan from escaping her throat as she pushed her neck into his mouth.   She knew what they had agreed, but she couldn’t stop herself from wanting him to bare his fangs and sink them into the delicate flesh of her throat.  She wanted to be his, to nourish him as no one had in over a century.

Sensing her need, and knowing that he was having a hard enough time reigning in his own desire to feed from his mate, Angel hastily moved away from her neck, down her body to her breasts.  Buffy was about to whimper at the loss of his mouth on her neck when she felt his tongue tentatively lap at her pebbled nipples.  She soon forgot about her loss.

Buffy rolled onto her back, giving him full access to her chest.  Not stopping his ministrations on her breasts, Angel slowly removed her robe, running his hands over her now exposed flesh.  The panties she wore were even more scandalous than the thing trying to pass itself off as a bra.  They were cut very high on her hips, exposing lots of flesh.  A quick movement of his hand on her ass let him know that it was a thong to boot.  He was going to be forever indebted to Cordelia for taking Buffy shopping.  This was beyond anything he had dreamed of ... well, okay it wasn’t, but it was beyond what he dreamed might actually happen.

Moving so that he could crouch over her body, Angel bit down gently on one nipple before abandoning her breasts and kissing his way down her stomach.  Buffy’s breathing became almost ragged with her anticipation.  She loved it when he did this, and he was so damn good at it.  She could already feel the moisture beginning to seep from her body at the thought of his icy tongue in her heated depths.

Angel growled in approval as the scent of her wetness hit him and Buffy moaned at the sound.  Angel took a moment to admire Buffy’s panties before hooking his fingers under the material and pulling it down her legs.  The desire to rip the fabric from her body was there, but if he tore them, he wouldn’t get to see her in them again.  Buffy lifted her hips, allowing him to remove her panties.

When she was finally bare underneath him, Angel urged her to spread her legs and then settled himself between them.  Buffy raised her head to look at him and Angel met her gaze with an evil grin as he lowered his head to her dripping sex.  Buffy bucked uncontrollably as he held her open with his thumbs while his tongue lapped languidly at her heat.

He wasn’t in a hurry.  He didn’t search out her clit and nurse it like a suckling babe as he usually did.  Instead, he took his time, using his tongue and fingers to search out every inch of her sex, leaving no part of her unmolested.  Beneath him, Buffy was whimpering, twining her fingers through his hair, trying to force him where she needed him.  But he wouldn’t be forced.

"Please, Angel," she whimpered, thrusting her hips into his face in wanton need.

He pulled back, his face glistening with her juices.  Buffy met his gaze and shuddered at the sexual hunger in his eyes.

"Touch yourself," he rasped.

Too needy to be scandalized by her own word, Buffy asked breathlessly, "Where?"

"Your nipples," he said with a grin.  "I want to see you play with them."

Buffy nodded and tentatively touched herself through the fabric of the bra she still wore.  Satisfied that she would comply, Angel lowed her head once again to her dripping sex.  At his first tentatively lap against her clit, Buffy intensified her ministrations on her breasts, rolling the pebbled nipples roughly between her fingers.  Sensing her abandon, Angel decided he’d had enough fun.  Circling her clit with his lips, he nursed roughly while using three fingers to stab into her grasping channel.  Buffy came almost immediately, her back arching almost off the bed as her cry of release broke the silence of the room.

He didn’t give her time to recover.  Her thighs were still shaking as he set himself to bringing her to another shattering climax.  He didn’t disappoint.  Twice more, her wails of pleasure filled the room as he skillfully worked her body.  Mindful of the fact that she was still relatively new to this and that he didn’t want to tire her out too quickly, Angel worked his way back up her body, licking, kissing and biting playfully.  When he reached her breasts, he gently unhooked the bra and tossed it to the floor with the rest of her garments.

"Did you enjoy that?" he asked smugly as he cuddled her still shaking form to his body as he breathing began to slow.

She looked up at him through her lashes.  "I think you know the answer to that," she retorted.

"Yeah," he said, "but I still like to hear it."

A wicked grin crossed her features.  "How about if I show you instead?" she asked, her eyebrow cocked.

Angel didn’t have time to react before her found himself pinned to her bed, the Slayer straddling him as she held his hands over his head.

"Now be a good boy," she said wickedly, " and don’t move."

Angel didn’t have time to wonder where his frightened girlfriend had gone when she scooted down his body and quickly undid his belt and fly.  He waited docilely as she removed his socks and then dutifully lifted his hips as she pulled his pants and boxers down his legs.  Buffy had intended a few more evil interludes to pay him back, but was overwhelmed with the sensation of being skin to skin with him again.  It felt like it had been an eternity since they’d been together like this.  Quickly moving back up his body, she pressed herself against him while kissing him deeply.

Angel twined his fingers through her hair, holding her to him as their tongues rubbed against one another.  He was hard, just as he’d been since she mentioned him feeding from her hours ago.  He was reaching the end of his rope.  He needed her.

"Buffy," he hissed, pressing his hips up into hers, rubbing his cock against her dripping folds.

"Do you want me?" she asked, against his lips.

"Gods yes," he moaned, almost as if in pain.

Buffy twisted, rolling them so that he was over her, between her spread thighs.  "Then take me," she said, meeting his gaze unabashedly.

Angel nodded, then dropped his head to kiss her again.  Shifting his weight onto one elbow, he reached between their bodies and ran the tip of his cock against her sex.  She moaned as he gently circled her clit with the head of his cock.

"Now," she half whined, half sobbed.

Letting go of his cock, he grabbed her hand and brought it between their bodies.  "Guide me," he said against the flesh of her neck.  "Bring me into you."

Buffy knew she was blushing furiously, but her need was overpowering.  Gently wrapping her little fingers around his cock, she brought him to her entrance.  Angel stilled for several moments, panting harshly against her neck.  Pulling his head back, his eyes met hers.  Bracing his forearms on either side of her head, he held her gaze as he pushed forward with his hips.

Buffy gasped, her breath catching as he began to enter her virgin body.  He’d used his tongue before, and even his fingers, but this was different.  He was filling her so deliciously, which isn’t to say that there wasn’t some discomfort.  He stilled as he felt her maidenhead, bending his head to kiss her deeply.

"You’re sure you want this?" he asked, his voice harsh and low.

Buffy nodded vigorously, unable to speak.  Reaching between their bodies, Angel rubbed his thumb against her clit, causing her to whimper and buck lightly against him.  Kissing her again, he pinched the nub between his thumb and forefinger.  As Buffy climaxed again, Angel’s hips surged forward, breaking though her maidenhead and continuing until he was seated to the hilt inside his mate’s scalding depths.

Angel held himself still, every ounce of control concentrated on holding off his impending climax.  Beneath him, Buffy panted harshly, overwhelmed by the feeling of him inside of her.  Worried that something was wrong, she touched the side of his jaw.  His teeth were clenched tightly and so were his eyes.  At her touch, Angel moved his head to look at her.

"I love you," he said before, capturing her lips in a searing kiss.

With a groan, Angel withdrew a small way from her and thrust against her again.  Buffy’s head rolled back on the pillow and she dug her short fingernails into the hard muscle of his back.  He repeated the motion only two more times, his movements tense and jerky until on the third thrust, he released an agonized groan and his body corded above hers.  Buffy felt it, his cool seed deep inside her body and wanted to weep with the pleasure of it.  He collapsed against her and Buffy held him tightly, whispering her love for him as he rested against her.

After several long moments like that, he propped himself up on his forearms again and looked at her, his expression soft.  Brushing her sweat slicked hair back from her eyes, he peppered small kisses all over her face.  Almost reluctantly, he withdrew from her body and stood next to the bed.  Pulling the covers down, he arranged them around his mate and once again joined her in bed.  Buffy sighed in contentment as she snuggled against his chest, his strong arms wrapped securely around her frame.

"I love you, Angel," she said as they both drifted off to sleep, "forever."

The End

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