"Come on, sweeting, wake up," William whispered as he tried to rouse the slumbering Slayer.

"Mmmph," she murmured.  "Five more minutes, Mom."

A wicked grin crossed William's face and he abandoned his words; after all, actions speak louder.  Pulling the covers back, he settled himself up against her petite frame and let his hands do the work.  Mere minutes later the mattress tipped and he saw his Sire join him on the bed.  Their gazes locked, mischievous blue eyes meeting lusty dark ones, and they looked at each other over the body of their lover and smiled.

Buffy was having a good dream.

She was lying on a mossy ground and the cool hands of her lovers were caressing her body in the most delicious ways.  Arching her back, she felt an icy mouth engulf her nipple just as another claimed her lips.  Sighing she invited him in, her tongue dueling with his in a lazy, careless manner that belied the raw hunger burning inside.  She let herself taste him, running her tongue up and down his fangs, an act that made him growl.  Smiling she increased her motions before impaling her tongue on the tip of his razor sharp, elongated canine.

The blood that flooded his mouth did it.  Suddenly his kisses were deeper, more aggressive, needy even.  As if his companion understood this, he moved away, letting the other male cover her body with his.

He slid inside with one thrust, her tight, wet sheath squeezing him deliciously.  She whimpered at his invasion, trying to get closer.  Snarling, he thrust into her again beginning a punishing rhythm that would have broken a normal woman.  But his lover was not normal, and she met him thrust for thrust, as eager for release as he.

As the first waves of her orgasm began, he let out a loud roar and ...

Buffy came fully awake as she climaxed to the feel of Angelus' fangs buried in her throat.  His roar was muffled but she heard it nonetheless, her body trembling from the aftershocks.  Sensing her consciousness Angelus pulled away, purring his pleasure as he gave her a toothy grin, before swooping down to capture her mouth again.

When he finally broke the kiss, allowing her to breathe, his true face had melted away to show his human features.  As she pulled in deep gulps of air he rained tiny kisses down the side of her face, before raising up to look her in the eyes.

"Awake?" he asked.

"Mmmhmm," she purred, running her hands down his back.  "I'm very much awake ... "

"Good," he started, only to hear a low a whine from the other side of his lover.

William looked frustrated, to say the very least.  His eyes were squeezed shut, his face a mask of frustration.  Buffy let her gaze travel the length of his body, finally coming to rest on his fully erect cock that was red and oozing pre-cum.  She licked her lips, then glanced at Angelus, her eyes questioning him silently.  He nodded his assent, then folded his arms behind his head and leaned back.

Buffy rose to her knees, then wrapped her arms around William.  Surprised, the younger vampire opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut short when her tongue entered his mouth.  Groaning he gave in, delighting in the sensations she roused in him.

Needing to breathe, she broke the kiss and trailed kisses along the side of his neck, stopping to suck on the spot where his pulse should have been.  He growled helplessly, thrusting towards her, desperately needing the friction she could provide.  Buffy knew this, and purposely continued to tease.

As she kissed his chest, biting his nipples, he opened his eyes to meet his Sire's gaze.  Dark eyes caught his, eyes burning with passion and lust as he watched his little Slayer pleasure his Childe.  William moaned as he realized his Sire was condoning Buffy's teasing, vowing then and there to make damn sure he repaid her.  Later.  Much later, he thought, as her mouth engulfed his swollen cock.

When she had completely taken him in, Buffy pulled back, letting her teeth scrape along his length.  As she took him back in, she swirled her tongue around him, once more drawing back to suck on the head.  Unable to withstand her teasing any longer, William thrust into her mouth.

Realizing he was close, Buffy opened her mouth wide and took him to the edge of her throat, repressing her gag reflex the way Angelus had taught her.  As she continued to suck she reached around with her hands to knead his buttocks, slipping one tiny finger into his ass.

The feel of her fingers, combined with the sweet heat of her mouth was too much for William.  He came quickly, his essence flooding her mouth.  Buffy swallowed quickly, gasping as she felt him slip out from between her lips.  Idly she swiped her fingers across her lips, wiping away the last of his emission as she shifted on the bed, trying to ignore the lust that was building between her thighs.

Angelus, however, had other ideas.  He rose from his languid position and pulled Buffy against him so that her back was molded to his chest.  His fingers lightly trailed down her flat stomach, coming to rest in the nest of curls between her thighs.  Buffy shrieked as he pinched and twisted her sensitive flesh, grinding down on his fingers, eager for release.  Angelus chuckled, then squeezed her swollen clitoris and scrapped his fangs along the column of her neck, causing Buffy to yell as she exploded.

As her aftershocks faded, Angelus rested his chin on the top of Buffy's head, delighting in the tiny tremors that continued to race through her.  Smirking, he watched as his Childe lifted himself up to look at them.

"Did you enjoy that, Will?" Angelus asked, his voice dark and silky.

William nodded, unable to speak, his bright eyes conveying the depth of his appreciation.

"I'm not surprised," Angelus told him.  "My little Slayer has a very talented mouth, don't you my love?"

Not sure how she should respond, Buffy remained silent.  Angelus chuckled at her dilemma, then broke out laughing as he felt her blush.  Turning her to face him he traced the outline of her lips with the tip of his finger, pressing against them ever so slightly.  He smiled when she immediately opened, then closed and began to suck on the digit that slid inside.  Buffy ran her tongue along his fingers, knowing she was tasting herself … and growing aroused again.

"I adore your mouth, little one," he told her.  "I love it as much as the rest of you ... and my William likes your mouth as well.  It's nothing to be ashamed of," he finished, pulling his finger from her mouth.

"Now then," Angelus began, settling her on his lap.  "Where were we?  Oh, yes, we were waiting for you to leave the arms of Morpheus.  After all, today is rather special, yes?"

Buffy groaned as realization dawned.  "No, today is NOT special.  Just treat it like any other day and maybe nothing bad will happen."

Both vampires looked at her, confused.

"Birthdays and Buffy are ... unmixy things," she told them.  "Bad things tend to happen on my birthday, so maybe if we just ignore it, nothing'll happen."

"Bad things?" William asked, arching his scarred eyebrow.

"Very bad things," she told them.

"What could possibly happen on your birthdays to make you want to ignore it?" Angelus asked.

Buffy sighed.  "Well, besides the whole Slayer thing, the last two have really sucked.  In a bad way.  The Judge was assembled on my seventeenth birthday, and Angel ..."

Angelus stiffened slightly at the mention of his otherself.  Buffy had not spoken of him often, but the pain and shadows in her eyes when she looked at him every now and then told the story.  Somehow they had hurt each other deeply ...

"Angel had to leave town," she said shortly.  "I didn't see him again until September ... I don't like to think about those five minutes in May ..."

She shook her head.  "Then on my eighteenth, the Watchers Council put me through the Cruciamentum.  Bastards, they thought they had the whole thing under control, but there are no controlled circumstances on the Hellmouth."

"The Rite of Passage?" Angelus questioned.  "They still use it?"

"You know?" Buffy asked, surprised.  "How?"

Angelus wrapped one arm around her and used his free hand to cup her face.  "Buffy, I'm a Master vampire.  I've killed my fair share of Slayers over the years, twelve if you want an exact figure.  William has killed two.  Once a Slayer falls, getting information from the Watcher is so terribly easy that a fledgling could do it just as well.  In my time I've picked up some very useful tidbits, if you will."

Buffy's blood ran cold at his words.  She'd known that he had killed Slayers; Angel, in one of his more forthcoming moments, had told her as much.  But somehow hearing it from Angel and hearing it from Angelus, in whose arms she was so delicately cradled, differed exponentially.  Her Angel had a soul that deeply regretted the demon's actions ... but Angelus was a demon who regretted nothing, yet still held her close and cared for her.  She shook her head slightly, trying avoid the headache and heartache that comparing the two inevitably brought.

"Besides," he continued, "the ninth one, Julia, I believe her name was, was drugged when I ran across her.  She tried to fight and quickly found she had no strength.  I delivered her body to a rather distraught Watcher who was arguing with another man about a barbaric test.  My arrival ended the debate.  Oh, but the Watcher's grief was glorious ..." he trailed off.

The shuddering bundle in his arms brought him back to the present.  He looked down to see fear and anger in her hazel eyes, and wiped a tear from her lashes with his fingertips.  "My precious one, I'd never hurt you ... not unless you would enjoy the pain.  But William and I are demons, and you simply have to accept that.  The sooner you do the easier life will be for all of us."

Before she could retort Angelus shifted her again, moving her so that she sat on the bed and not on his lap.  "So, your two previous birthdays were painful.  I suppose William and I should remedy that situation ..."

And remedy the situation they did.  It was strange, not having some sort of crisis pop up and interrupt things.  I know they have plans to make, so they must have arranged to take the night off, so to speak.  It was odd.  There was cake and ice cream, although I have to say the ice cream was not like any I've ever had before.  But this is 1899 not 1999, so that explains it.

They gave me presents to open.  I don't know what you would have given me ... would you have sent me something?  Would you have called me, just to say 'happy birthday?'  Or would you have stayed away, wanting me to go on with my life?  What would the gang have planned?  A big party, or a small get together?  Or would I have boycotted all festivities and huddled in my bed crying for what was lost?

Had they not planned what they did I feel sure I would have huddled in bed here.  Whether I would have gotten away with it is something else entirely ...

Oh, yeah, the presents.  Let me see, first there was a silver necklace with a diamond and emerald pendant.  Very pretty, very *expensive* piece; when William fastened the clasp the pendant rested in the hollow of my throat.

Next was a set of books.  Once I would have rolled my eyes ... no, I wouldn't.  I loved the book of poetry you gave me last year, and didn't tell them about all my birthday disasters.  I already dread the day they find out the truth about you, about the curse.  Damn that fucking curse ...

The books, Buffy, concentrate on the books.

Angelus seems intent on furthering my education, so I was unsurprised to find detailed books on history, mathematics and botany, as well as the 'latest' in Latin primers.  Latin?!  I was appropriately flummoxed.  I can't believe he expects me to learn a dead language.  Whatever.  Of course, this was followed by the news that he would be tutoring me himself in order to gauge my progress.  Eeeee ...

William, on the other hand, understands the need for entertainment.  He pointed to another group of books, which included a collection of Arthur Conan Doyle's 'Sherlock Holmes' stories, all the while bemoaning the absence of any new stories for the past six years.  There were also a few romances, although they don't even come close to the bodice rippers I occasionally used to read.

And, in an act of supreme amusement, he included a copy of "Dracula."  He snickered after I'd unwrapped it, and Angelus seemed a little upset.  Something about too much publicity, the character being weak and insipid, and it being a horrible novel.  I didn't have the heart to tell him how popular it would be in the future.

Another box contained a long, thin envelope.  The paper inside was a receipt informing the holder that his box at the Savoy Theatre would be reserved for a February performance of Gilbert and Sullivan's operas, "Trial By Jury" and "H.M.S. Pinafore."  Angelus promised I would enjoy them.

The clothes were next, not that I thought I needed any more.  And did I really say that?  I won't go into detail; I know you remember the women's fashions from this era.  They changed every damned season!  No basic pieces!  Aaagghh!

The last box was tiny.  Inside was a band of white gold, made of tiny Celtic knots, that Angelus immediately slid on my left ring finger.  My wedding ring.

Oh, God.

At least it wasn't a claddagh.  I don't think I could have handled that.  Scratch that, I *know* I wouldn't have been able to handle that.  You gave me a claddagh, Angel, and I know damn well what it means.  But I also I'm stuck here.  With Angelus.  Who *seems* to love me (is it love, or just lust and possession?) as much as you do ... he just has a different way of showing it.

And right now I'm so ...

"Buffy?"

Buffy jumped almost completely out of her seat, slamming the diary shut before Angelus could even see the letters on the page.  She spun around, nervous hazel eyes meeting curious dark ones.  He glanced at the diary, then back at her.  He ran a finger down the side of her face, letting it rest across her mouth in the universal gesture for silence.

"I know you're still adjusting to us, little one," he whispered.  "If it helps you to write out your feelings, then do so.  I promise not to read them, not until you're ready to talk about it."

She relaxed and he tugged at her arm.  "Come along," he said.  "There's still one birthday tradition we have not partaken of."

At the look in his eyes Buffy grew nervous again, but said nothing as he led her upstairs to his bedroom.  He sat down on a lounge and patted his lap.  "A birthday spanking is customary, is it not?" he asked his voice dark and husky.  Looking in his eyes, Buffy realized it wasn't a question.  Fidgeting with the lace on her sleeve she took a few steps towards him and stopped, unsure.

Recognizing her hesitancy Angelus smiled.  "Just do as I say," he told her.  "Understand?"

Nibbling on her lower lip, Buffy nodded.

"Good.  Now, take off your dress," he commanded.

She complied, unbuttoning the buttons and pulling the sleeves off her shoulders, then pushing it over her hips until it formed a puddle around her feet.

"Step away and continue."

Obeying his orders she moved away from the crumpled silk and began to shed her other layers.  First the petticoats, then the stockings and slippers.  Facing him she unlaced the front of her corset, before turning around. She didn't hear him rise, but she felt his hands pull the stays free and then there was nothing between her flesh and his bare hands.

He sat back down and she turned around.  He patted his lap again, and she approached him not sure what to do.  Mere seconds later Buffy found herself bent over his knee, the tips of her toes just barely touching the floor and her head resting on the seat.

Angelus gazed at the beauty before him.  Creamy, unblemished flesh awaited him and he itched to use one of the smaller whips.  However, he realized that that would not sit well with his tiny Slayer, considering she had never been touched this way before.  Oh, she hadn't spoken about her sexual experiences, but then she had no need to.  Her innocence spoke volumes and made him wonder, again, how his otherself could stay away from her.

Shaking off his reverie he stroked her trembling back.  Raising his hand he let it fall, connecting with her bottom with an audible 'smack.'

"OW!" she cried, her hands flying around to rub her injured flesh.

"No, no, Buffy, none of that," he stated as he pinned her wrists together with his left hand.

Another slap had her wiggling on his lap, her legs flailing.  In response, Angelus maneuvered so that she was bent over his left knee, and his right leg kept her lower limbs from moving.  Utterly confined, Buffy stopped struggling and let out a whimper.

"Good girl," he whispered, before resuming the blows.

Mortified and ashamed, Buffy let herself hang over his knee and cry.  Her hair covered her face, hiding her hot tears, but she knew he could smell them.  She flinched and jerked as his hand returned again and again to her sore ass, moaning in pain.

Then he suddenly stopped and, as he stroked her flesh, she became aware of a burning in her womb, and that her clit was rubbing against his thigh.  Lust flooded her blood as her breath hitched, and she shrieked when he smacked her again.

"That was nineteen, Buffy.  One more, to grow on."

He smacked her bottom hard, causing Buffy to yell, then sob in relief.  Angelus let her cry for a few minutes, all the while running a soothing hand over her abused flesh.  Then, without warning, his fingers slipped between her thighs and parted her dripping folds.

Buffy felt pleasure building with every twist of his fingers, and whimpered again, ashamed that the spanking had aroused her.  As his fingers pinched her swollen bundle of nerves, Buffy shattered, screaming out her release.

Feeling her go completely limp, Angelus picked her up and laid her on the bed.  Stripping his clothes off he joined her in bed, pulling her trembling body close.  He slid into her molten heat with a hiss, thrusting hard and fast.  Buffy moaned, her body already adjusting to the sudden invasion, and she slammed her hips up to meet him.  He snarled as she consciously squeezed him, and tilted her hips to give him an even deeper access.

"An … gel … us," she cried, as she felt his thrusts bump her cervix.

"Mine," he growled, looking down at her, his eyes glowing pure gold as opposed to yellow when he caught sight of the scar on her neck.

Buffy felt him tense as his orgasm began, then opened her mouth to scream as she felt the tremors start within herself.  Snarling again Angelus sank his fangs into her throat, relishing the sweet, powerful blood that flooded his system, and he spilled within her as he felt her silken walls milking him as her orgasmic convulsions begin.

Utterly perfect, he realized, as he collapsed on top of her.  She was perfect in every way, in every response.  Buffy was his, his exquisite, perfect companion.  Her body, her ambrosial blood, her very soul, all formed an elixir that pleased him inordinately.  Just for a moment, he pitied his otherself his loss … but then decided that if the fool had been stupid enough to leave her then he deserved no pity.  And he most assuredly did not deserve this tiny treasure.

She had to be dead, she decided, as she felt his weight collapse onto her.  She felt too good to be alive, too fulfilled, too tired, to sore …  Too sore?  As the tremors receded and reality surfaced, Buffy looked up him, faint tears still clinging to her lashes.

"Don't be ashamed," he murmured.  "You looked so fucking beautiful across my lap, Buffy.  When you yield, when you submit, it's like music, my love."

Whimpering in both remembered shame and from current satiation, she buried her face in his shoulder, causing him to sigh.  "You enjoyed it, Buffy," he told her.

"I know," she whispered.  "Why?"

"Because, my love, under the right circumstances pain is just another form of stimulation.  I told you that before, and you've felt it a little.  But do you understand?"

Buffy shook her head.  "I'm tired," she yawned.

Angelus sighed again, realizing that her education in the erotic arts would have to be continued at a later date.  Flicking the bedside lamp on, he pulled the green covers up before reaching for the book on the night-table.  "We finished the other one, so I chose another," he told her.

"S'fine," she murmured, burrowing under the duvets.

Angelus needlessly cleared his throat and began to read.  "'In the days of high-waisted and muslin-gowned women, when the vast amount of soldiering going on in the country was a cause of much trembling to the sex, there lived in a village near the Wessex coast two ladies of good report ... '"

As he continued to read aloud, Buffy drifted off to the sound of his voice.

Another birthday come and gone.

And this time there were no disasters.

 

The End