"...you almost went away today..."

"...I love you...I try not to, but..."

"...maybe we shouldn't..."

"...don't. Just kiss me..."

And then there was nothing, no conversation at all. There was only the sound of two lovers, finding each other after an eternity.

Buffy felt as if she were separating, and at the same time had never felt so complete. Her whole body was coming apart from the small touches she was receiving on her hot skin. She couldn't lie still, the butterflies in her stomach were too active, and she began to wriggle slightly beneath the hard body that lay atop her. "Angel," she murmured, "Angel, I want...I want..."

"What, love?" came the whispered response, a soothing hand on her cheek.

"I don't know," she whimpered, still in agony over almost losing him at the docks, her precious Angel.

"Do you want...this?" he asked, drawing cool lips over her bare breast, causing the nipple to tighten and pucker.

She nodded, clutching his head to her chest.

"And this?" he continued, sliding lower and dipping his tongue into her navel, tracing small circles around it.

"Yes," she almost sobbed, but it wasn't what she really wanted, not really. "No," she whimpered, causing Angel to chuckle against her stomach. "I don't know, I can't...it doesn't..."

"Hush," he soothed, coming back up to lean in and place his forehead against hers, twining their fingers together and bringing her hands up over her head. "Let me."

And then his dark head was leaving hers, sliding down her body to the softness between her legs, tasting the honey that was there and savoring it. She bucked suddenly beneath him and he placed strong hands on her hips to keep her still, in order that he might enjoy the banquet before him.

He spent long minutes loving her there, at her most intimate spot, and when she had shuddered and clenched for him at least twice, he couldn't deny himself any longer. Angel rose above her, and Buffy thought distantly that he looked like the angel Gabriel cast from Heaven in that moment. And then she couldn't think, she could only feel, because she was being filled and claimed by something silky and satiny and hard.

The moment of pain she experienced was gone in a breath, replaced with a feeling of being home, being completed, being loved. They were one, finally, and the differences in their souls were lost in the unity of coming together. A Vampire Slayer lay with a vampire and was found in him. The vampire himself was redeemed in that moment, the sins of the past were wiped clean and the darkness in his heart was lifted.

They moved together in a harmony of motion, hard muscles blending with soft skin, until the act became too much to prolong and Angel felt himself begin to shudder. Buffy was murmuring beneath him, her mouth pressed to his shoulder to muffle her cries, and at once there was a sensation of light spiraling around them. The lovers found mutual satisfaction, clinging to each other during the wave and riding it out, until they both lay weak and sated in each other's arms.

For a long time, there was only the sound of the rain.

Some time later, they stirred, instinctively turning into the other. Their eyes met, locked, and Angel looked into Buffy's eyes, concerned.

"Are you...is everything..." he faltered, feeling like a schoolboy in her presence.

Her only answer was to reach up and take him down into her embrace, nuzzling into his chest and sighing in satisfaction.

Angel felt something smooth and cool on his chest, and he turned Buffy's hand over to examine the small ring gravely. It reflected the small bit of light from the streetlamp through the window, the silver glinting dully. He traced the design with the tip of a finger, wondering if the small girl beside him understood the significance of it. "The claddagh is kind of special," he ventured, trying to say the right thing.

"Anything you give me is special," she replied warmly.

He shook his head in frustration. His crypticness did not always work to his advantage. "No. I mean, the claddagh itself has special meaning."

Buffy's eyes glowed as she looked at the little ring, fitting so snugly on her finger. "You said that if I wear it with the heart facing in, it means I belong to someone."

"There's more," Angel said, with a sideways glance, noting the creaminess of her shoulder and wanting to lick it. "In Ireland...from way, way back...the claddagh signifies that you belong to someone for always." His voice grew unnaturally soft. "For *always*."

Buffy lifted the ring to her lips and kissed it, then offered her hand to Angel. He, too, placed his lips on the ring and kissed it, and she settled back into his arms, her eyes full of dreams and futures and rain. "For always," she repeated, testing the word out on her tongue. "But, Angel?"

"Hmm?" he answered drowsily, smelling the fresh scent of her hair.

"You don't have one," she said, a small note of worry creeping in.

"That's because..." he trailed off, still fearful of what he had done, of what he had said. He had told her he loved her. He, a vampire, had professed love for a Slayer, had given her a token of himself, and he had taken her most precious gift in return. He, Angelus, killer of thousands of innocents, was lying with the personification of goodness and truth, and she was staring at him as if he were the Messiah finally come to earth. This was not right, what he had done, he should get up now and take her home to her mother, he should --

"Because why?" she asked warmly, turning those green-gold eyes to him, and then suddenly he could do nothing but drown in them.

She had redeemed him, this little girl with the shining eyes, and he would not wallow in his crimes any longer.

"Because I don't need a ring to know I belong to you for always."

They slept, while the rain thundered on the roof, and when they awoke they made love slowly and languorously. Limbs stretched and fingers clutched at strong arms, and soft muffled sighs blended with low growls. Then there was only the rain again.

"...he said it meant for always."

"Really? For *always*?" Willow's eyes shone as she examined the small ring on her friend's finger. "That's like...like...for always!"

"I know," Buffy giggled, feeling giddy. She had felt giddy for two days, ever since her birthday, when she had received the most beautiful present she could have ever imagined.

"Wow!" Willow said, suitably impressed. "And, the other part? Was it wow too?"

Buffy blushed and drew her chair closer to Willow's, in order to be heard above the pulsing music of the dark club. "It was more than wow, Will. It was like...it was like we were part of each other, like he's still in me, and a part of me stayed with him. I don't feel whole anymore, when I'm not with him. I need him to complete the other piece of me."

"Ohhhh, Buffy," Willow sighed, "that's dreamy."

"What's dreamy?" A loud voice interrupted, startling both girls. They looked up to find Xander standing at their table, gyrating to the music.

"Nothing," Buffy dismissed, throwing a cautionary glance to Willow.

Willow ignored the message. "Buffy's birthday present," she said loudly, hoping he would take interest. "You should look at it."

"A car? Did Joyce come through for you, Buff? Is it outside? What kind? Can I drive it?" He began hopping from foot to foot, ignoring the glances from other tables.

"It's not a car," Buffy said quietly.

"It's a ring," Willow burst out. "From Angel!"

Xander deflated like a balloon. "A ring. From Dead Boy. How...sentimental of him. What did you have to give him in return?" he asked nastily.

Anger rose in Buffy, hot and bolstering. "Nothing I didn't want to give," she shot back, and waved her hand in front of his face. "It's a claddagh. It means I belong to someone. Want to try it on?" she provoked, suddenly furious. What she and Angel had shared was tender and loving and *private*.

"Hmm, no, thanks," Xander mused, covering his hurt. "Think I'll get my own. At least it won't have been used." And with that he was gone, shoving his way through the crowd to the door.

"I'm sorry," Willow murmured. "I shouldn't have done that."

Buffy tore her eyes from Xander and looked at her friend. "You know," she mused, "it doesn't matter. He's hurting, and I'm sorry for that. But nothing can make me give up what I'm feeling, not my duty, not my friend's hurt feelings. I don't want to ever give this up."

"Neither does he, apparently," Willow smiled, nodding toward the door.

Buffy looked, and warmth began in her belly. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said absently, sliding off her stool and weaving between the tables to the entrance, where Angel stood.

"You didn't come tonight," he said, taking her hands in his.

"I thought you might want a little space," Buffy offered, searching his eyes. They were warm.

"Do you want some space?" he asked, concerned.

"No. I want...what's the opposite of space?"

"Together," he confirmed, and they left.

The End

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