Rating: PG-13
Feedback: I'd really apreciate it! Xena202@webtv.net
Disclaimer: I don't know why I bother myself with these, I don't own them, you know it, I know, Whedon sure as hell knows it.
Spoilers: Takes place during 'Killed By Death' and I'd say anything up to that is fair game.
Notes: Though it seems insulting to dedicate this to anyone, this is for Kristy...a constant source of inspiration and friendship. I wrote this in response to a challenge that I now can't find...I don't know, if anyone likes it I could probably turn it into a series.

Buffy shifted irritably in the hospital bed, her head and body screaming painfully in protest at the movement.

She felt as though she was wandering through a fog, a thick, heavy fog that surrounded her on all sides, pushing against her with an insistent urgency -not only in the air around her, but inside her head, her mind, transforming her thoughts into insignificant fragments with fuzzy meanings.

She was hot.

Her body felt as though it were on fire, burning her from the inside out with a steady heat that consumed her entire being, not a single part of her body unaffected by it

She vaguely remembered why she was here. The events of the last night lurking in the back of her mind, a dim memory she found she couldn't decide whether to view as truth or attribute to her imagination.

Whatever it was, she didn't care; all she wanted was to be ridded of this damn heat.

Unable to sleep, she found herself content to busy herself with what she could.

The dark red and black shadows of her dark room appeared to shift every so often, molding themselves into unidentifiable shapes and figures. She felt herself drift away into a wavering sleep as she attempted to keep track of them, mentally joining into their game. They swayed back and forth, dancing and singing to a music only they heard, or at least understood. Floating towards each other, towards her, they would take another as its mate, a form a new entity that would reach her bedside and just as soon separate, drifting soundlessly to the floor where she could no longer see them....where she could no longer indulge herself in watching their mindless activities.

But as soon as one would disperse, another would melt off of the wall, already moving in time to the endless dance.

A lazy but ultimately pleased smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she watched them dance quicker across the room. So caught up in this, was she, that she never noticed another presence in the room.

"Glad to see you're so happy to see me, lover." The words, deep and throaty mingled with the other sounds of the room; the steady beep of the heart monitor and the sound of her heart itself, pounding away in her ears, drove her to the point where she could barely recognize the familiar voice as a form of reality and not as another distraction.

"Shh-" She managed to whisper. A cool air, one that would have been uncomfortable if not for her current situation, settled upon the room, a delightful shiver racing down her spine at the sound of him speaking. She raised a small hand to weakly gesture at the shadows running to hide in the presence of the stranger and pouted ever so slightly in disappointment.

Angelus eyed her petite frame, clothed in a simple regulation hospital nightgown with her legs bare from mid-thigh down, the sheets and blanket having been kicked long ago to the end of the bed and her gown having ridden up as she had tossed and turned.

What caught him off guard though, was the way she seemed in no way threatened by his sudden appearance, as if there was no danger in the fact that she was alone in a small room, strength down to minimal effectiveness, with him... how she gave him close to no verification that she even knew of his arrival.

Trying to draw some light on what game it was she was playing, he took a few steps forward, finally noticing the fine layer of sweat on her forehead, he took in her wild glint in her eyes and curling of her upper lip. Those eyes met his for a brief second and then seemed to glaze before refocusing on something through and behind him..or perhaps in front of him. Which, he couldn't tell. They pinned his own dark eyes, but he had the impression she was looking everywhere but at him.

This side affect of either the fever or the drugs, which ever it was, had clearly cut her off from reality. He grinned, slow and deliberately with the implications of his discovery.

He had made it thus far with incredible ease. The hospital allowing all, including vampires, into its shelter, her little friends busy buying food in the cafeteria, and the great tasting nurse in the elevator all helped to make his entrance smoother and quite enjoyable. And once he had reached the recovery level, he was able to let her distinct scent lead him to her.

His gaze rested on her eyes for the longest time, and he could see the always present fire that he associated with her spirit tinged in the green behind the drugs and fever induced gleam.

He came forward, closing the remaining distance with casual and confident steps, stopping when he reached the chair next to her bed on which he dropped on to gracefully.

Angelus brought the flowers, jasmine from the garden of the mansion, to her face, waving them under her nose. "You like flowers, right?"

She closed her eyes as the pleasant floral scent filtered across through her senses. "Hmm.." She mumbled in agreement and then asked quietly as a word came to mind. "Jasmine?"

"Yeah babe, Jasmine." he confirmed, laying them on the side table but never taking his eyes off of her. Even frail and sick, she was a site to behold. so small and bright, she had a beauty that captivated all those lucky enough to catch a glimpse of her.

Blonde hair sprawled out atop her pillow on one side and framed her face on the other. By the way she smelled, fresh with a slight soapy scent, he was certain she had been cleaned earlier tonight.

He scowled and fought down a growl at the thought of someone, male or female, bathing her, seeing what belonged to him. Even if it was only to clean her and help lessen the effects of the fever. He shook his head and returned to her face.

Soft, defined features in a small nose, and perfect teeth under normally luscious lips and glowing bronzed skin, it was a face of beauty, one marked with incredible inner strength and a deceiving innocence. He raised his hand to her cheek -the same hand that had only hours ago met the same cheek in unbridled violence -to brush the silky skin with his knuckles.

As soon as he did so, she leaned into it, the cool familiar sensation of his touch too comfortable...inviting....exciting to ignore.

A predatory smile spread over Angelus' lips. She was most definitely not in her right mind.

Her eyes opened wider then, in response to his facial expression or something other, with just a brief flicker of clarity passing through them as she took in her surroundings for the first actual time during her tenure here: an environment that had never failed to frighten her.

"I'm scared." She whimpered, her words surprising him. Her hand patted the bed almost frantically, searching for his which he yielded to her immediately, amused.

Her grip tightened and he did nothing, save sparing a glance down at their joined hands, taking in the IV inserted into one of the veins distastefully. He lingered on the two glints of silver, bright against their pale flesh.

Claddaugh rings.

The last thing his souled half had given his beloved before he returned. A symbol of their love...of his 'undying' devotion to her. And she, as did he, still wore it, -but with one glaringly obvious difference; the small heart in the center pointed in towards her.

She still belonged to someone. A wave of possessiveness and pleasure coursed through him at the sight. It was as it should be, he though smugly.

She still belonged to him.

Then.

Now.

Always.

His.

She was always his.

So immersed in his thoughts, he almost missed her next words. "I'm so scared." She said, again with a tremble in her voice, spoken almost with an air or confidentiality.. but he could hear the pleading in her voice, the fear.

And he reveled in it, reveled in the mere fact and in the rush of power it gave him. She was afraid of him and also confiding that same fear in him. It was priceless. "Scared little girl, all alone with the big bad wolf." He grinned much in a way that could be described as 'wolfish', and his voice was filled with a mock compassion.

Not noticing the tone, she took comfort in it and made a small sound in the back of her throat that he thought was almost like a choked sob.

"Shh..tell me, lover. What is it that scares you so much?" He said soothingly.

"Its all closing in on me." Her breathing came harsh and heavy, the mere though and vocalization of her fears intensifying the emotions. "So white and clean...sad. Why are they so sad?" She asked him, brow furrowing and eyes traveling to the ceiling the...the question pacifying her -anxiety forgotten -for the moment.

He gave her no answer and she in turn appeared not to expect one. She inhaled deeply and turned her head to the side, looking out the double pained window. "So lonely." She finished, the last word barely more than a wistful sigh.

Angelus, meanwhile, throughout her short speech, sat, staring at her turned head with an expression akin to shock written on his face and in his eyes.

The slayer, most likely to be revered as one of, if not 'the' strongest in history, hunter of his kind, the one girl in all the world that vampires and demons alike feared was scared of a hospital. She was alone, closed up in a tiny room with a master vampire intent on destroying her physically and mentally, and to top it top it off was bed laden with a debilitating illness that left her with next to no strength...and all she feared was this damn hospital.

He raised an eyebrow. Hell, it was almost funny.

Angelus sat still, simply watching the sick slayer stare off into space, lost in the world of the fever and drugs. "Buffy." he coaxed, expecting to break her from her trance-like state. She remained silent, never indicating she heard him.

With a sigh and agitated roll of his eyes, he took her chin in his hand, forcing her to turn her head to him.

Her eyes spoke of a deep sadness and were accompanied by just the smallest hint of fear. That small frown formed on her lips again, sweeping over her nose and onto her barely furrowed brow. Angelus felt his desire for her stir at the expression, so vulnerable, so weak; he loved it.

"Do you want it to stop, baby. The heat? The loneliness?" He purred dangerously, eyes gleaming with malicious intent while his grip lessened, his hand ever so slowly running up the side of her face and then down her neck, where he stopped, resting his fingertips on the place where her racing pulse was strongest.

She nodded, a simple inclination of her head before lowering it, all the while keeping her eyes on his, eyes that were wide and luminous, eyes that stared up at him as if he were her ...what had he told Xander?

White knight?

Yeah, that was it, her 'white knight', come to save her.

He couldn't help but chuckle at the thought, only causing her frown to deepen.

"Make it go away? Make it stop?" She asked softly, her question said without feeling or thought as she weighed the words back and forth, considering the offer.

It was a consideration that she could feel, somewhere deep down inside of her, was one of extreme importance, yet gave way to a simple answer for what turned out to be a simple consideration. One that went beyond 'want vs need' or 'good vs evil' ...something primitive that had influenced and driven humankind since their first days...a consideration that merely consisted of 'comfort' and 'pain'.

A decision made only too easily.

"Please." She whispered to him and he stood up using his free hand to pull the IV out of her hand, watching as she winced in pain momentarily.

He rubbed the spot tenderly for a moment until the pain subsided and then leaned over her, running said hand up her thigh slowly, stopping once he reached the cotton covered apex of her thighs. He lingered there, using his thumb to massage and stimulate.

Aroused blood always tasted better.

She mewled, closing her eyes and laying her head back, eagerly offering him what he desired on instinct alone.

Angelus' lips descended to her collarbone where he laid a trail of soft kisses before moving up the column of her neck, lavishing it with his tongue. He pulled back a bit to slip into his true, demonic visage, and scraped his teeth along her skin, forcing a thin line of blood to the surface which he immediately licked. Pleasure and lust overtook him when she shuddered beneath him.

He could smell her in the air, the scent an inviting mixture of her ambrosial blood and fear, although heavily weighed out by the musky evidence of her arousal.

True, aroused blood was a delicious thing, but this intoxicating elixir insulted any normal girl.

Positioning his mouth over her jugular, he opened his jaws wide, a small growl escaping his lips before he sank his fangs into her sweet flesh.

He drank slowly, letting her precious lifeblood run down his throat, enjoying each drop of the crimson wine. He felt her arms reach up to his back, pushing him further into her, needing him.

When at last he felt her heartbeat slow, her arms sliding down his back to lay limp at her sides, he retracted his fangs. He straightened, his entire body singing as her blood ran rampant through his veins. Looking down at her, he found her staring up at him through slitted eyes. She blinked once, the simple action taking her a good 5 seconds.

Perhaps it was gift from the higher powers, letting her have one moment of clarity to leave this life in...or perhaps it was a punishment. One last moment to see what she had done, realize the full implications of what had just happened.

Staring up at Angelus' dark face, she pleaded weakly. "Angel?" He replied only by smirking at her before shaking his head and ripping open his wrist with one of his fangs.

Buffy cowered back, trying desperately to hide in the bed with no success. She had next to no control of her body and could feel it dying, her heart, with great effort, beating its last beats.

He pulled her up into a sitting position, pressing his bleeding wrist to her mouth and muttered in a soothingly soft voice. "Come on, drink for Daddy."

And she did.

Helpless to stop the overwhelming need that racked her small body, the first sinful taste urged her to latch her lips onto the wound, sucking frantically and drinking her Sire's blood with every last reserve of strength until he forced her off him and back on to the bed.

The last thing she remembered, before the darkness took over, was the steady hum of the heart monitor filling the room, and the realization that she was no longer hot.

Angelus sat up, moving to the end of the bed he tore of the set of wires and monitoring devices stuck to her toes, threw them onto the floor with a snarl and turned back to Buffy's still form. He smiled and swept his newest childe up into his arms, turning for the door.

Things truly were about to get 'very' interesting.

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