***

Part Twelve "The Real Me"

DEDICATION: For Nina. Feel better and SOON!***

//i think it's getting to the point where i can be myself again
i think it's getting to the point where we have almost made amends
i think it's getting to the point that is the hardest part
and if you call, i will answer
and if you fall, I'll pick you up
and if you court this disaster, i'll point you home//

Buffy woke up, not on the couch as she expected, but in Angel's bed covered in a crimson silk sheet. The comforter was tossed aside, folded back over the bed. She glanced over to find his side empty and frowned. She inhaled the cool air, heard the light humming of the air conditioner and looked over to see that he had closed the windows in the bedroom.

She stood and was initially surprised that she was nearly naked, before vaguely remembering shedding her clothes because of the suffocating temperature. Goose bumps appeared all over her body in complaint of the now cool air. She wandered over to his closet and opened it. She shuffled through his shirts, sliding them over the bar until she found one she liked and pulled it on. She stood in the open closet door, buttoning the shirt and looking down over the unorganized mountain of dirty clothes covering the entire expanse of the closet floor. She smiled and nearly giggled at his mess. It was a good thing he had so many clothes because it didn't look like he did laundry too often. He probably just bought new ones instead of washing the others.

As she was about to turn away, the shirt on top caught her eye and she bent over to pick it up. A smudge of bright red lipstick decorated the collar and her hands shook as she brought the piece of clothing to her nose. Inhaling slowly, she caught the faint scent of not one woman's perfume but at least two buried inside the smell of alcohol and smoke.

With tears filling her eyes, she dropped it and hurried into the living room, almost praying that he had gone back out with one of his lovers rather than staying there where she would have to face him. Her prayers were not met. She found him standing at the windows, freshly showered and wearing a pair of Levis that fit him *too* well. She ran over to the couch and scrambled to silently put on her jeans and nearly gasped inside her quiet sob as he turned around.

"Buffy," he said, walking over to her, "What's wrong?"

"Right," she snapped, unable to keep the tears from pouring from her eyes, "It shouldn't be too hard for you to figure out."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, holding her shoulders in his hands. Whatever alcohol was still in his system, fled as the sobering reality of her angry pain met him.

"I saw the shirt you wore tonight," she said, "Maybe you were too *busy* to think about hiding the evidence."

"Lipstick on the collar," he groaned, closing his eyes for a second, "Buffy, listen, I did not do anything with anyone tonight. I swear, baby. I ran into one of my ex...um...someone I was involved with before and she was hitting on me. I pushed her away."

"Don't call me, 'baby,'" she said, stepping out of his arms and grabbing her shoes before she headed for the door. Angel ran, or more accurately, sprinted, toward the door and slammed his back against it to keep her from leaving.

"Am I your prisoner now?" she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest, feeling his shirt billowing around her, as her shoes dangled from one hand.

"No," he said, shaking his head sadly, "You can leave whenever you want, but just please give me a second to explain."

"Fine," she said, dropping her shoes on the floor by the door angrily, "Whatever."

"I would *never* do anything to hurt you," he began, words tumbling from his mouth in a stream of panic, "I haven't slept with, kissed or done anything else with another woman since I met you. Believe me, if I didn't want to be with you, I wouldn't be. I've always been sexually active but all my lovers knew that I wasn't dishonest with them. Buffy, I'm not lying. I love you. I only want to be with you."

"All your lovers," she breathed angrily, "Including Brenda on the answering machine?"

"Brenda too," he answered, feeling shame rise in his chest, "She's been calling me on and off for the last couple of months. I used to sleep with her regularly, but not anymore."

"I don't know if I should believe you," she said, turning from him and crossing the room, feeling if she had to spend one more second looking into his eyes or the muscular expanse of chest in front of her that she wouldn't have the strength she needed.

"I don't know how to convince you," he said to her back, "Except to ask you if I have ever given you a reason not to trust me. Except for my past, have I ever done anything to make you think you couldn't trust me? Buffy, I'm new at this love thing. I'll admit that, but I'm not stupid. I wouldn't do anything to risk losing you."

He watched as her shoulders began to shake and then, seconds later, emerged the sound of her sobs. He crossed the room and hesitated before circling her and pulling her into his arms. She allowed it, spilling tears on his bare chest, seeping through his skin and breaking his heart.

"I love you, Buffy," he repeated, kissing the top of her head. It was almost as if his words renewed her strength and she pulled out of his arms, stepping back.

"If you love me so damn much, then how come you won't touch me?" she demanded, fire streaking through her eyes, "You haven't even tried to make love to me once since we've been together. It's curious how many people tell me what a whore you are and then you refuse to make love to the woman you *supposedly* love. Don't you think that's interesting? I sure as hell do. Angel, if you don't really love me, if you aren't attracted to me, then just tell me now. I can't stand living this...whatever this is, if it's a lie."

"It's not!" he shouted, returning her anger with his own, "You want to know why I haven't tried to make love to you? Fine! I'll tell you. First, there was the attempted rape by a man I thought was my friend. Then there was the car accident where you nearly died and the men I hired couldn't even protect you from that outside their own damn office. The police are no fucking help. I have women throwing themselves at me whenever I'm not with you. Every time I come home, there's a message on my answering machine from an ex-lover inviting me to fuck them. And do you know what I do? I take a cold shower and go to see you! Buffy, something is not right here. My life is fucked up and it's fucking your life up too and I don't know how to make it better. I know you keep getting hurt because of me and I am powerless to stop it! I've never felt this godamn helpless in my entire, horrible life. All I know is that to me sex has always been that - sex - meaningless gratification. I don't want that with you. I want to make love to you but I don't want it to be cheap or less than what it should be. I don't want to hurt you for any reason. Ever. If you want me to make love to you tonight and every night for the rest of your life I will, but what happens on the day when you wake up and decide that I'm not the right guy for you, that you gave your virginity to a *whore?*"

Buffy took another step back and stared at him for a second. He was breathing heavily and his eyes were a strange mixture of fury and devotion like nothing she had ever seen. The only way to describe it was passion. God, she loved this man. All of him. She loved his overprotectiveness and his uneven communication skills. She loved the way he touched her and the way he didn't. She felt new tears slipping from her eyes, trying to decide what to do. He closed the distance between them and dropped to his knees before her, pressing his face against her abdomen as real tears, personifying every drop of pain he had experience in his life, poured out of him.

"Buffy," he choked as he held himself tightly against her, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, love."

She stood there for a moment, looking down at the man kneeling before her, showing real, raw, base emotion. She threaded her fingers through his short, spiky hair and slid the other around his broad shoulders, holding him to her for a few moments before dropping to her knees as well. She placed her hands on both sides of his face and pulled his face to hers, forcing him to meet her eyes.

"I love you, Angel," she whispered, "I want to be with you. I want you to make love to me tonight and every other night, but only if you want to...only if you want me."

"I want you," he said, "More than I've ever wanted anything else."

She bit her bottom lip to keep a fresh stream of tears from escaping and he stood, pulling her up with him before sweeping her into his arms and carrying her to the bedroom.

***

//you can't believe it but it's true, she's given everything to you//

Angel woke up shortly after he had fallen asleep and looked down at his lover. Her tousled head rested on his chest, her fingertips burning heat into his abdomen, her eyes closed peacefully. He smiled down at her and felt like pinching himself out of this dream. She gave him her heart, her virginity and her trust. And now she lay in his arms. For the first time in his life, he felt warm and loved. He felt like at thirty, life had just begun.

Buffy must have felt his unwavering stare, because after awhile, her eyes fluttered open. She first saw the hard marble skin of her lover and glanced up to see chocolate brown eyes looking down at her. Instantly remembering the night before, she blushed beneath his gaze.

"Hi," she said sleepily.

"Morning, love."

"Is it morning already?" she asked with pouted lips that begged to be kissed. Angel easily pulled her up to cover him, sliding her over his body deliciously and took her mouth with his.

"Technically," he said, nodding at the window, "but the sun hasn't risen yet."

"Good. I'm not ready to leave yet. You're...you're not ready for me to leave yet, are you?"

"I'll never be ready for you to leave," he answered honestly, his voice rough from sleeping. She felt his arousal against her and in spite of the soreness she felt, she couldn't help but be excited by it. He still wanted her, even after she had shown how little she knew about lovemaking the night before. She blushed again and wondered if she would spend the whole morning blushing at him, wanting him.

"Sorry," he whispered, placing another kiss on her silky lips, "I can't help it. Doesn't mean that we have to make love again if you aren't ready."

"I don't know," she answered truthfully, while her insides churned for him, while need laced through her, leaving scorching trails of heat lancing through her veins. The fire that welled up inside her and the want for her lover was something that wasn't new with the recent lovemaking. She always felt it in his arms, as if the whole world was burning for him. He smiled down at her as he saw the lust in her eyes. Wrapping his arms more tightly around her, he kissed her intoxicating lips again.

"That's okay, baby," he said, smoothing his hands over her skin. She felt softer than satin and if he were allowed to only touch her bare skin until the end of time, it would be enough to sate him...almost. He didn't need to make love to her again. He could take the memory with him until the end of time and find happiness there, but damn, he wanted to so much the thought made his heart pound.

"I...I want to," she blurted, more aroused by the second as his large hands wandered over her body, keeping from erogenous zones but his feather light touch felt like a million kisses on her skin.

"Are you sure? Because we don't have to," he whispered, looking intently into her eyes.

"Yes," she said and waited for his response. He rolled them over carefully, placing her softly against the pillows and watched her hair flutter against the crimson pillow case. As he prepared to make love to her again, he realized that they hadn't used protection the night before. Taking a deep breath, he tried to make himself not hyperventilate, because he realized that once again he had completely fucked things up.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, watching the emotions fly across his face.

"You're not on the pill, are you?"

Her eyes widened with the same thought that he just had, affirming his suspicions. Some women took the pill for other reasons, so she *could* have been on it, but he sincerely doubted it. Now he knew for sure even before she choked out the word "no."

"Damn," he said, "I'm sorry. I should have thought about it, but I didn't and...damn."

"That's kinda what I was thinking," she said, "But it's not your fault. We were both there last night."

"I have a drawer full of condoms right there," he said, pointing at the bedside table, "I'm just a fucking moron."

"Angel," Buffy said, pulling her on top of him, "There's nothing we can do about it now, so reach in the drawer and get a condom and make love to me. Whatever happens we'll deal."

"Buffy..."

"Angel," she said, kissing him lightly and biting his lower lip, "Are we going to fight about what we can't control or are you going to make love to me?"

"I'm going to make love to you," he growled, the words rumbling angrily in his chest.

"Good," she said, "Because I want to feel you inside me again."

His growl turned into a moan of desire as he kissed her and reached into the drawer.

***

Part Thirteen "Moving Parts"

***

//call me crazy but it really doesn't matter
all that matters to me is she
her life in a nutshell
no way would she want it to change me
it's not that easy cause
my time is often decided for me, for me//

"So, let me get this straight," Gunn said, squinting into the sun at the baseball game ahead of him rather than looking at his friend, "She might possibly be pregnant and you don't care?"

"That came out wrong," Angel said, taking a bite of his hotdog. There was always something so much better about hotdogs when you get them at the ballpark. It must be some sort of process that's done to them there and nowhere else - unless, of course, the mind feels the need to compensate because you just spent 5 times more on this hotdog than you would for a whole package at the store, "I *do* care. Of course, I care. I'm just...not upset about it. I'm not panicking, that's what I'm saying."

"Alrighty then," Gunn said, nodding absently, "I have just one response to that."

"I'm listening."

"Either you marry her," Gunn threatened, "Or I'm taking you to rehab cause it's love or you're in some serious shit."

"I love her," he said, "I don't know how it happened."

"I wouldn't go spreading this around," Gunn said, with a grin, "It's already ruinin' your reputation."

"Another thing I really don't care about," Angel said seriously, "But don't tell anyone about the might be pregnant thing."

"I won't," Gunn said, "But I can't believe you're not freaking out. Remember the last time you had a scare? I thought we were going to have to administer first aid! The guys were arguing about who was going to tackle you and take you to the mental hospital."

"That was different."

"How?"

"The girl," Angel said with a faraway smile, "She wasn't Buffy."

The grunt of half appreciation, half irritation coming from his friend was lost on Angel as he thought about the previous night and that morning. Strange as it was, he couldn't see a downside of having a child to share with Buffy. Not on his end anyway. He could almost see her round little belly and the glow that always radiated from pregnant women. His only worry really, was that she was worried. That thought alone made him wonder if Gunn should tackle him and cart him off to the closest place with nice people in clean white coats because he knew he was crazy for that girl.

***

//i am crazy just like you
i am crazy just like you//

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"Wow."

"Yeah," Buffy sighed a second time, sinking into Willow's couch, which was the best thing about her apartment. They termed the massive and abhorrently ugly piece of furniture "The Couch of Slack" years ago because once you sat on it, you never wanted to get up again. When she talked it out of her mom after graduation, Buffy was incredibly envious that her friend had managed to finagle her parents out of it. It was the perfect centerpiece for long conversations and movie nights. If only they could find someone brave enough to attempt to reupholster the thing, it would be perfect.

"Are you okay?" Willow asked, leaning forward to look into her friend's eyes, or actually sinking forward, "I mean, what if you are pregnant?"

"I don't know," Buffy mused, wiggling as she slid further down, "I'm terrified and excited and freaked out, but somehow I know it's going to be okay, you know? Like, whatever happens, I think Angel will be there."

"What did he say?"

"Well, first he beat himself up about it," she said, smiling at the memory, "And then he was sweet and supportive. It was almost as if I had already told him I was pregnant. I was surprised he hadn't started buying nursery furniture."

"Really?" Willow asked, trying to imagine her friend's taciturn, dark and sexy boyfriend not flipping over the possibility of Buffy's possible predicament. She couldn't wrap her mind around it.

"Yeah. It was the strangest thing," she said, sighing, "And the most adorable. I guess we'll just wait and see what happens. Anyway, enough about me. How are you and Xander doing?"

"Good," Willow said, turning a bright shade of pink, "He's moving in."

"What?!! When?"

"This week," Willow exclaimed as if she had been trying to hold in that little piece of information for their entire visit and now she couldn't keep it down one more second, "He transferred his job here and I don't know. I think it's going to be...you know...for good this time."

"He's really staying?" Buffy asked, feeling her eyes begin to tear up in happiness. She and Willow both had waited for this for so long, it almost seemed impossible now. Almost.

***

//i wax poetic while you're waxing your legs
and you say you think there's a traitor among us
if all else fails, you can blame it on me.//

"I knew you'd be back," Darla said when Riley Finn stormed into her apartment.

"I just came to make sure you understand that all bets are off," Riley said, helping himself to a chair in her living room and watched her with his cold blue eyes as she sauntered across the room and sat on the couch, "You need to stay away from Buffy. I don't care what happens to *him* but Buffy is out of this."

"You think you're driving here?" Darla answered with a throaty laugh, "That's amusing. You're just a little boy, Riley. You can't control me."

"I'm not going to sit back while you destroy the woman I love," he shouted angrily, "If I have to I will go to Angel and tell him everything. I'll tell him how you are the bitch who was behind all of Buffy's recent incidents."

"No, you won't."

"And why not?"

"Because you know if you do that, you lose Buffy. Forever. She'll never trust you again. She'll never even speak to you again. I'll make sure that they both know about your involvement in this."

"You conniving..." he started and then took a deep breath, "I'm willing to lose her just to make sure she's safe."

"No, you aren't."

"You have no idea what I'm capable of."

"That's my line, lover boy," she answered, "But it's okay, because the plan's changing. You'll like this one. It's the one where we both win."

"I'm not playing your mind games, Darla," he said, standing up, "You screw everything up and I'm the one who ends up sweeping up your carnage."

"If we play this right," Darla said with a smile that made him sit back down, "We'll both get what we want. Buffy will never trust Angel again when I'm done. Promise."

"Fill me in," Riley said angrily, "And this is your last chance."

***

//i realized it's all my fault but couldn't tell you//

Spike groaned with frustration when the phone rang and pulled Drusilla closer to his side. Every ring forced him further from the exhausted sleep he was in. When the answering machine picked up, he sighed thankfully and prepared to go back to sleep, until he heard Detective Kate Lockley's annoying female voice chime in, "Spike? Pick up. I know you're there."

"Don't you have a life, Kate?" Spike demanded as he picked up the phone with one hand, keeping his eyes closed.

"Listen," she said, "If you don't want me to involve Buffy and Angel in this investigation, then you're going to have to help me. We don't have enough evidence to even hold Darla for a night."

"I told you everything I know," he said, feeling his patience wearing thin. He looked down at Drusilla who had opened her bright eyes and was giving him that look. You know the look. The damn look that said he had to help straighten out the mess he had helped begin.

"Spike," she said quietly in that lilting morning voice that made his heart skip a beat. She didn't have to say anything else. He knew what she meant but he pressed the phone against his chest and looked down at her anyway.

"I told her everything, pet," he promised, "Everything. I even gave her pictures for crying out loud."

Drusilla shook her dark head sadly and started to sit up in bed. Whenever she touched him she felt the darkness. The visions of upcoming disaster were getting worse and she knew that if he didn't do something, she would never be able to touch him without that contemptible feeling inside her. He reached out and seized her arm, pulling her back into bed as he raised the phone back to his ear.

"What the bloody hell do you need me to do?"

"Glad you're on board," Kate said sternly.

"Whatever," he snapped back, "Let's get on with it, then, shall we?"

***

//what a pretty girl//

Buffy, despite the challenge, was able to extract herself from Willow's couch and head back to her apartment to prepare for her date with Angel. Date. The word had an innocent Willow-esque quality to it, as did her giddiness. She turned on the stereo and danced around the apartment as she showered and dressed. She felt as if the air was lighter today than yesterday and the night was slightly more romantic than it had ever been.

She looked in the mirror at the finished product and asked herself again what Angel loved about her. It almost didn't matter. The feeling was so engulfing and purely marvelous, it ate away her questions or doubts. She straightened her dress and adjusted her hair a final time as she heard him knocking on the door - or actually, banging since her music was up so loud. She hurried through the apartment to get to the door and stopped short when he stepped inside, holding his keys.

"I didn't think you heard me," he said, fidgeting with his keys for a second before slipping them in his pocket.

"You used your key," she said, grinning at him.

"Well, you gave me one," he stammered, "And I knocked, but the music...God, you're beautiful."

"So are you," she said, looking over him hungrily.

He crossed the room and kissed her gently, plucking sweets from her red lips. He looked over her again, from the top of her upswept hair, leaving the sexy arch of her neck bare, down her toned legs to her little feet. The dress was form fitting and left irresistible cleavage there that begged him to kiss it. He held in the urge to take her to bed instead of taking her out and smiled.

"Ready, gorgeous?"

***

//but now it seems all that people want is what i used to be,
and every time i try to do something new,
all they want is...//

Dinner was exquisite and Buffy almost felt like he was trying to seduce her even though he was well aware that she would sleep with him again...and again. It's interesting how much they learned about each other just over a meal. Everything from the doors he opened for her to the way he sat in his chair, told her volumes about him. He reached across the table from time to time, caressing her fingers for a moment as if he had forgotten how her skin felt. Every touch came just in time to quell her own urge to touch him.

They memorized each other's faces, loving the chance to be able to stare without cause for remorse. The way their lips moved and formed the words, the way they ate and drank - everything was something new without being new at all.

Their evening walk to the club several blocks away was just another part of the dreamland he was wrapping her in. It was perfect. When they passed through the doors, she gaped at the people there, stunned by the amount of skin and beauty flashing before her eyes. They were all dressed for show, moving their bodies to the beat that pulsed through the room.

Angel checked over his date for her approval rating and was relieved to see her beaming smile returned. He wasn't sure if she would like this sort of place and more nerve racking was the thought that he might run into one of his ex-lovers there. It was a step he knew he had to take. He had to accept the fact that other women from his life before Buffy were going to appear from time to time.

He hated to dance. That was the other thing. Previously, the only reason to even set foot on a dance floor was to hold a hot body close to his. Now, he was dancing, or more like swaying, for much the same reason. He wanted to see her move to music, wanted to feel her move against him. She teased him, moving her small hands over his back, lightly scraping her fingertips in lustful trails on his chest. He forgot to glance around for exes. All he saw in the room was the tiny blonde in front of him.

Buffy was lost in the music and in Angel's arms, not even noticing that he barely danced or that angry glares of other women were burning into her from all around the room. He made up for his nonexistent dance steps in arms, hands and lips. He kissed the tape of her neck as she smoothed her back against his chest, smoothing his hands over her hips and belly. Innocent touches, small grazes of flesh on flesh were intoxicating and delicious.

Buffy was covered in a fine sheen of sweat when she decided to find the bathroom, weaving around the crush of equally hot and sweaty bodies. She stood in the long line outside of the ladies room, thinking Angel would probably send out a search party before she was able to get back to him.

As she was washing her hands, a striking redheaded woman with milky white skin and delicate features walked up behind her, hands on her narrow hips. Buffy, lost in her world of happy, nearly crashed into the girl when she spun around.

"Oh, excuse me," Buffy said, with a breathless half giggle, "I'm sorry."

"You're here with Angel?" the girl demanded, cutting right to the chase.

"Yes," Buffy answered.

"So, you're *her,*" the redhead said sneering.

"Her?"

"The girl who thinks she took Angel off the market. I hope you don't really think he's going to stick around. What could you possibly offer a man like him?"

"Excuse me," Buffy said angrily, stepping around her and heading toward the door. She whipped around when Angel's ex-lover grabbed her arm. Yanking down hard, she removed her arm from the girl's grip, "Don't touch me."

"You may have him pussy whipped," she said, "But he'll be back in the field. I give him a week. Tops. You're just a little distraction."

"Get over him," Buffy said as she turned toward the door once more, "And do yourself a favor. Stay away from him."

Buffy proudly strutted from the bathroom, passing the long line of women standing in wait for an empty stall. She wanted to look over her shoulder to see if the girl was behind her, but couldn't dignify the bitch with that. Instead, she kept her eyes forward, not even allowing herself a glance to the side. She didn't want to see the other pretty girls who could have been in Angel's bed as recently as a couple of months before.

Reminding herself that he loved her, that he didn't want the other women, she nearly smacked into in a large body blocking damn near half the room. She looked up at him, her eyes traveling up a mountainous amount of muscle to reach his eyes.

"Excuse me," she said, thinking that must be the phrase for the night.

"You look like you could use some company," he said, slipping a giant paw to her hip.

"No," she answered, shaking her head, "I'm here with someone but thanks."

She slipped away, hurrying in any direction that he was not and scanned the crowd for Angel. She found him after a few moments, standing by the bar as he had promised talking to none other than that redheaded girl. What the hell? Did she vault across the room to him? Buffy made her way over and plastered herself to Angel's side.

"Hi baby," she said to Angel before glaring at the redhead.

"Hey love," he said, kissing her before turning back to the fuming female, "This is Brenda. You remember she left a message on the answering machine the other day?"

"Sorry we didn't answer," Buffy said with a cold smile, "We were busy. I'm sure you understand."

"Well, Angel," Brenda said, ignoring Buffy completely, "I hope you'll call me soon. A couple of the girls and I were just talking about how much we miss seeing you."

"That's nice," he said with a polite smile, "I don't really have a lot of time lately. Nice seeing you."

He guided Buffy away from her and looked down to see the expected irritation waiting for him.

"I think I really, really hate her," Buffy said through gritted teeth.

"I really love you," he said, "And I don't give a shit about her. Do you want to go?"

"No," Buffy said, moving closer and tipping her head up, "I want to give them all a little show."

"A show?" he asked with a cocked eyebrow.

"Umhmmm," she said, kissing his neck, "I want them all to know that you're mine now."

"I am yours," he said, smoothing his hands over her back.

"Good," she said, grinding her hips against his. He leaned down, kissing her full on the lips and slipping his tongue inside her mouth as she parted her lips for him.

"Very good," he growled, palming her ass as he pulled her closer to him before kissing her again.

***

Part Fourteen "The Others"

***

//i never thought i'd be regretful of all my past success//

Buffy wanted to claim him, wanted to mark her territory in front of all the women who were vying for his attention. As much as she was lost in those deep brown eyes, she could feel his ex-lovers staring, burning into her. She knew they were there, flinging silent insults at her. His hands moved on her body, sliding easily over the material of her dress, slipping to her arms, contacting with her flesh, making her shiver with delight. She kissed him, pulling his tongue into her mouth, sucking on it gently. He tasted so good, as if he kept a vial of lust on the tip of his tongue.

"Let's go," he whispered huskily against her mouth, his breath sweeping over her moist lips. He couldn't wait to get out of the line of fire, to move his lover to safer quarters. He felt slightly guilty because tonight had been more than just a date. He wanted her to see where he used to go, the things he used to do and who he used to do it with. He expected a run in with one or two of his former lovers but the room was freezing from the tension. Angel didn't like how they were looking at her, hating her, trying to make her less than she was. In fact, it made him angry. He couldn't believe the battling emotions that raged inside him and against him, batting around the large club. Her attempt to show the other women that they had lost seemed like a great idea for the first couple of minutes until it occurred to him that he would have done this with any woman he was with. He didn't want them to pile her with the others. She didn't belong there.

"Okay," she said, kissing him one more time as he intertwined his fingers with hers. As they headed for the door, he pulled her hand up to his mouth and kissed her slender fingers, relishing in her smile. He wondered if she would always have that innocence about her, that blushing happiness that he had never seen in a grown woman. There was a glow, a sort of aura of goodness and light. As they headed toward the door, he realized that he had been mistaken when he thought his ex-lovers could reduce to her their level. It just wasn't possible.

That's when he stopped, not paying attention to who was around him or where he was in the room. She stopped as well, looking at him curiously.

"What's wrong, Angel?" she asked, the corners of her mouth twitching as if she wasn't sure if it was okay to smile or not.

"I love you," he said clearly, raising his voice slightly to make it over the music, looking intently into her eyes. His felt this swelling inside his chest, as if his heart could explode at any moment. Those three words seemed so inadequate for what he was feeling. They fell short of the emotions raging inside him.

"I love you too," she said, allowing the smile sweep across her face and brighten her eyes.

***

//a dance remix, so i can catch the latest trend//

Outside the door, he left her in the large, capable hands of the bouncer at the front door while he went to get the car. The man was massive, sitting on a barstool outside the door with a hard gleam in his eye as he eyed the ID of each person entering the club. She felt like a child left in the hands of a giant. Angel was not a small man, but the bouncer was enormous, looking like he had stumbled in from another planet. Buffy giggled a bit at the look the bouncer gave her when Angel left and he shook his bald head.

"He's a little overprotective," Buffy explained with a twinkle in her eye, watching Angel walk away to get the car. She stared at his ass, encased in those heavenly leather pants and parted her lips to take in a breath, before she was brought back to earth by the bouncer's reply.

"He never was before," he answered, handing an ID back to the next person in line. He glanced down at the petite blond to his right, thinking she didn't belong in a place like that. He understood why Angel liked her though. She was breathtaking and fresh with perfect skin that must be silk to the touch.

"Love makes you do the wacky," Buffy said with a happy sigh, leaning against the wall, oblivious to his inspection of her.

"Love, huh?" the bouncer said with a smirk as he accepted the next ID. He knew Angel. He didn't know him well but he had seen him come in and out of this place with many different women over the years. Hell, some nights he left with more than one. He wasn't best friends with the guy but he was pretty sure the word "love" wasn't in his vocabulary.

"Oh, don't worry," Buffy said, patting his large, bulky shoulder, "I know all about his past."

"No offense, honey," he answered, feeling oddly protective of the little blonde himself, "But you seem a little naive."

"Sure," she said, "I am naive, but I'm not stupid. When was the last time Angel went to get the car and asked you to watch out for a girl?"

"Uh...never, actually."

"That's what I thought," she said, giving him a little wink as Angel pulled up to the curb and jogged around the car to open the door. The bouncer looked on, ignoring the line of people for a moment as Angel made sure she got safely inside the car and leaned through the window to kiss her deeply, almost reverently, before circling the car again. He glanced up at the bouncer before he stepped in the car, giving him a nod of appreciation. Love? Well, he guessed anything was possible.

***

//she made me feel i was fourteen again//

"My place or yours?" Angel asked with a mischievous grin.

"Mine," she answered, returning his smile and scooting across the seat to be closer to him, "We haven't made love there yet."

"Okay," he said, glancing in his rearview mirror and found that one of Gunn's men was tailing them, but discreetly, keeping back as much as possible. He drove slowly, enjoying the drive until she absently placed one of her tiny hands on his thigh. He reached down and took her hand in his, squeezing gently. He couldn't believe that the tiniest touch would make him so aroused. Buffy Summers had no idea how she effected him - such power in such a small person. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, willing her not to look down. Of course, she did and her eyes widened when she noticed the growing bulge in the front of his leather pants.

"You're the one who brought up making love," he explained after a moment of silence, knowing he was busted. He had always been easily aroused, looking forward to a roll in the hay, but his new lover had the strangest effect on him. Just seeing her made him hard. Actually, thinking about her did that too. As time went on, he was able to control it...slightly, but not completely.

"Guess I did," she said, pulling their clasped hands to her mouth. She kissed his fingertips and knuckles as he struggled to concentrate on the road. Tentatively, she kissed the tip of his index finger before taking it in her mouth and sucking on it gently, swirling her tongue around it.

"God, Buffy," he gasped, "We're not going to make it home if you keep...doing that."

"Doing what?" she asked in feigned surprise.

"If we weren't being followed, I'd pull over and show you what I mean," he said in a low velvety voice, strained with need.

"Really?" she asked suggestively. Angel snuck a glance over at her just in time to see her tongue slip between her lips and tease the pads of his fingers.

"God," he groaned, shifting in his seat again, "I might have to rethink the leather pants in the future."

"Don't you dare," she warned, sliding her free hand up his thigh, "I love you in these."

"They turn you on?" he asked in a rasped voice, genuinely curious. He knew what effect they had on other women and had hoped that Buffy would feel the same way. The thought of her wanting him, enjoying an article of clothing, made him strain even more.

"Yes," she answered in a voice just above a whisper, but loud enough for him to hear.

***

Part Fifteen "Rushing In"

***

//it's time to throw off those chains//

That night, lying in her bedroom, Buffy felt enveloped in love and warmth as Angel spooned around her curves and pulled her close to him. She caressed the large arm that circled her waist and was as close to purring as she could possibly be.

"Is this how it was with your other lovers?" she asked, after a moment of contented silence, pretending nonchalance. Angel growled into the curve of her shoulder. She felt his entire body grow tense and she waited for a moment. The silence was deafening and he remained very still behind her.

"I want to know," she added quietly and turned over to face him. She expected to see anger on his handsome face but was met with anguish instead.

"No, Buffy," he answered, quietly slipping from her arms and out of bed. She watched his nude form move to the window, outlined by the dim light spilling through the large pane of glass before him, "This is not how it was with my other lovers."

"How was it then?" she asked, sitting up in bed, shifting her eyes over his muscled body. She wanted to get out of bed and go to him, but didn't.

"It was raw and base, nothing like what I have with you. I make love to you," he said, "I fucked them. I brought them to my place or I went to their homes and I fucked them, then I left or asked them to leave. There were only a very few women I actually spent the whole night with."

He paused and she waited, looking at his shadowed body, sculpted back. He took a shuddered breath and continued, "I told you I'm not...I wasn't a good person, Buffy. I used their bodies and they used mine. That was it. Just sex. Nothing else. You're the only woman I've ever made love to in my life."

"You are a good person," she whispered after a long, painful silence.

"Why do you always have so much faith in me?" he asked, turning to face her.

"Why do you always have so much faith in me?" she echoed, turning the question on him.

"Because I love you," he said, slightly confused.

"Yep," she said, slipping from the covers to move silently across the room to him, "Exactly, you big dummy. You don't get it, do you? I know who you used to be. I didn't ask you to make you feel bad. I asked you because your past is a part of you and I want to know everything."

"I just want to leave that behind," he said, "That's not who I am anymore."

"I know, baby," she said, moving into his arms, "I know."

***

//i flew over the cuckoo's nest and
i'm never ever coming back because
i am crazy just like you//

"Waffles!" she gasped with excitement, moving into the kitchen, drowning in one of his shirts. She kissed his bare back before he turned around to meet her lips. She loved that she always caught him cooking for her in the morning with no shirt on. It made her hungry in more ways than one.

"I ran out to the store this morning," he said, voice deep and rough as it always was in the morning. She loved the sexy abrasion that rumbled through the air, "I thought I'd make you breakfast to make up for our fight last night."

"That wasn't a fight," she said, picking up a fresh strawberry and slipping it slowly between her lips. She bit in slowly and Angel actually groaned out loud, turning back to the waffle maker. After swallowing the bittersweet fruit she finished her sentence, "The thing the other night - that was a fight. Last night was an emotional conversation."

"Well," he said, kissing her again, unable to resist tasting her, "then this is for both...things."

He set a container of homemade whipped cream on the table along with the strawberries and went back for the waffles. She sat down at the table as he loaded her plate with a Belgian waffle, loading it with strawberries and whipped cream before sitting down and preparing his own.

"Mmmm," she said as she took her first bite, "The perfect yum."

"Glad you like it," he said.

Glancing across the table, she saw the Sunday newspaper sitting there and flipped through it, pulling out the Classified section.

"What are you looking for in there?" he asked, with a twinkle in his eye, "Looking for another guy already?"

"Oh yeah," she said, rolling her eyes, "I'm sure I'll find a couple of guys who are as sexy as you are and will make me waffles in the morning. No actually, I need to find a new apartment. My lease is up in a couple of months and they're hiking up the rent again."

"Really?" he said, chewing slowly and trying to concentrate on his food while insane thoughts of asking Buffy to move in with him flooded through his mind.

"Yeah," she said, "They're raising it $75 bucks a month. That's extortion! I can definitely find a better place to live where I don't have to pay an arm and a leg."

"You could..." he said, trying not to choke on his words, "...uh...move in...with me."

"Huh?" she said, her eyes widening as she released her hold on her fork and the newspaper at the same time. The fork made a loud clanging sound as it ricocheted off the edge of her plate and bounced on the wooden table top. She didn't notice those sounds because her heart was slamming in her chest and making an awful racket.

"Stupid idea," he muttered, "Sorry."

"Move in with you?" she said, staring at him. She missed the "stupid idea" part. She was still back on the previous stilted sentence.

"We spend every night together anyway," he said, taking a drink of his milk, wishing the lump in his throat would go away, "I just thought...you know...we could save in rent and..."

"You really would want me to live with you?"

"Well, yeah," he said, shrugging in an attempt to appear more casual, "Why not?"

"I can't think of a single reason," she said, with a smile.

"You mean..."

"Umhmm," she answered, climbing out of her chair to climb into his. She flipped a leg over his lap and straddled him, "I'll move in with you."

He pulled her into his arms and released a strangled sigh. Falling in love was one thing, but asking a woman to move in with him was something entirely different. All of those things seemed to be impossible and frankly, inconceivable a few months ago. He never would have believed even three months ago that he would be making breakfast for a girl and holding his breath while he asked her to move in with him.

"But," she said after she kissed him soundly, "You have to let me pay half the rent."

"Are you kidding me? Of course you aren't paying half the rent," he said.

"Great," Buffy complained, "Now you're going to go all caveman on me."

"How many cavemen know how to make homemade whipped cream?" he asked, scooping a bit of the sweet, fluffy mixture on his index finger. She sucked his finger into her mouth, closing her eyes briefly as she relished the taste.

"Just you," she said, kissing him gently.

"Caveman, huh?" he grunted, pushing his chair back and standing, holding Buffy against him. He swept the dishes from the table and heard her moan in protest as their lovely breakfast clattered to the floor. He laid her on the now bare table and yanked open the silk shirt she had stolen from him.

Damn, he loved that woman.

***

//how happy we'll be//

"Whipped cream?" Willow asked, on Monday as they were munching on their lunch. Buffy loved that standing Monday date she had with her best friend. Even if they couldn't make time the rest of the week, they always made sure they had that one meal together, unless Willow had an emergency surgery which did happen from time to time.

"Homemade," Buffy answered after she finished chewing her bite of turkey sandwich.

"And he smeared it..." Willow asked, taking a gulp of her soda.

"Yep," Buffy said, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

"But weren't you...you know, all sticky?"

"Oh yeah," Buffy answered, blushing in spite of herself.

"Wow," Willow said, "Xander and I have never...I mean we...never mind."

"I highly suggest it," Buffy said, still fully red. She quickly changed the subject as she felt her body warming to the memory, "Anyway, so that's everything really. I'm moving in."

"Don't take this the wrong way, Buff," Willow said hesitantly, "But isn't it kinda soon? I mean you just slept with him for the first time a couple of days ago. Shouldn't you wait awhile?"

"Yeah, I should," Buffy answered, "But Will, I really don't want to. I can't explain it but I just want to be with him all the time. I can't stop thinking about him. I know this is probably not a good idea, but I just couldn't say no."

"Well, Xander moved in with me," Willow said, "You're moving in with Angel. Guess we just have to wait for Cordelia and Doyle to take the plunge."

"Poor Doyle," Buffy said, in mock sympathy, "She'll probably throw half of his clothes away."

"Gotta feel sorry for anyone in Queen C's clutches," Willow said, sharing a knowing smile with her friend, "So, when are you moving in?"

"Angel wants me to move in as soon as possible, but my lease isn't up for another couple of months," Buffy answered, "I'm not sure. I guess it doesn't matter, really."

"Oh, okay, little Miss Nonchalant," Willow blurted, "You know you want to move in today. I bet you're already rearranging his furniture in your mind."

"Yeah," Buffy admitted, grinning, "But if you had those waffles this morning, you'd be the same way."

"I don't think it's the waffles," Willow said, grinning back.

***

//why does everything i do confound you?//

"You did what?" Gunn shouted, "I knew you had it bad, but Angel you can't just move a girl like her into your apartment and-"

"A girl like her?" Angel said angrily, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"She's innocent and doesn't know shit about the world, Angel," he answered, "If she moves in, she's going to expect you to commit to her."

"What part of this relationship are you missing?" Angel demanded, "Have I not made it clear that I am in love with her?"

"Perfectly clear," he said, "But I hope you've done sowed whatever oats you planned on sowing, cause one slip and you'll lose her."

"Why do I even talk to you?" Angel groaned, "I *am* done. I only want to be with her now. Remember when you said I should marry her the other day? Did your brain start leaking between then and now?"

"I know what I said, man," Gunn said, leaning over the desk to his friend, "But I really didn't mean right now. She's sweet and we all love her. I'm not telling you not to be with her, but I just want to make sure you know what you're doing."

"I know," Angel said, "Trust me."

"I'm not the one who should be trusting you," Gunn said quietly.

"Anyway," Angel said, clearing his throat, "What's up with our case?"

"Penn is awaiting trial. Apparently, Buffy's uncle has him trapped in there without bail."

"Has he admitted to anything?"

"Not a damn thing," Gunn said, "He won't say who hired him. He won't even admit he knows Buffy's name. All we can be sure of is that he's not the one who snipped her break line because he was rotting in his little cell at the time. So, there's no way to prove the two incidents are connected right now."

"So we don't know anything?" Angel asked, exasperated, "Gunn, they have to be connected."

"Of course they are," he answered, "We just have to find out who's behind all this."

"Great. This is just wonderful," Angel said, leaning back in his chair, "I wish I had stayed in bed with Buffy instead of coming here."

"I bet you do," Gunn said, laughing.

***

//you've got to stand on your own//

Buffy left the gallery in Anya's anal but capable hands at the end of the week to see her doctor for a yearly exam and pregnancy test. Originally, she thought about asking Angel to come along but decided against it. She went alone, not even telling Willow about the appointment. She wasn't sure how she would react to the news and was even more confused about what she wanted the news to be. She didn't even know if she wanted a baby or not, but there was a little ache in her heart that just wouldn't go away.

She was even more worried about Angel's reaction. What if he changed his mind about her if she was pregnant? What if he was upset if she wasn't? Everything seemed so clear, so perfectly fine until she actually went to the doctor's office. It was like reality set in the moment she crossed the threshold. When he told her that the results came up negative, she fell into a torrent of sobs. Half relieved, half devastated, she wept on there on the examining table. The doctor patted her shoulder and tried to soothe her.

"You can try again, honey," he said gently, "Of course, we can always test both of you for sterility as well."

"No," she said, sniffing, "I want to start taking the Pill."

"Okay," he said, fully confused, "Are you sure that's what you want?"

"Yes," she answered, wiping her face, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to break down like that."

"That's quite alright," he said with a gentle smile.

***

//she's on time, she's on time
she's on time, hallelujah
she's on time
and it's the safest time of the month, they say, for love//

Buffy really, really wished she had not planned the appointment on Friday. Cordelia was having yet another party and Angel had a private showing with a new buyer. The man asked for the appointment after he got off work that night, so Angel was going to meet her at Cordy's. When she arrived, he wasn't there yet and she felt her eyes tearing up again. This was so stupid and yet, she knew she wouldn't feel better until she told him the news. To top it all, she started her period a week early when she got home.

His possible reactions were still running through her mind as they had all day. What if he jumped up and down with happiness that she wasn't pregnant? What if he only asked to move in because he thought she was?

What if, what if...

When she walked into the living room, Darla was there, looking vibrant and coldly beautiful, hanging on the arm of some guy Buffy had never seen before. He was very handsome and seemed anxious to leave. Buffy wondered if he was anxious to leave her or just the party? The part of her that didn't like or trust the woman made guess the former. She went to the kitchen to get a drink, chiding herself for being mean, if only in her mind and nearly collided with Riley.

"Hi Buffy," he said, "Are you okay? You look upset."

"I'm fine," she said firmly, walking around him to get to the water glasses.

"Did Angel do something to upset you?"

"No," Buffy said, angrily, yanking a glass from the cabinets, "Angel didn't do anything, not that it's any of your business."

"Sorry," he said, holding up his hands defensively, "I'm just concerned about you. You look really upset."

"She's no longer your concern," Angel said from behind him. The boy flinched with the sound of his voice, feeling irritation and disgust set deep into his stomach.

"Yes, she is," Riley answered, turning to face him, "She's obviously upset and since you weren't here, someone has to be worried about her."

"Riley," Buffy said with a heavy sigh, "Please don't. I can't handle this right now."

"What's wrong, love?" Angel asked, brushing past Buffy's ex. There was definitely something about that boy that he didn't like. He wasn't sure what it was but he was sure he didn't trust him and he didn't want him anywhere near his lover.

She took his hand, leaving her empty glass on the counter and led him outside to the patio. She gestured for him to sit down on one of the metal mesh chairs and lowered herself into another.

"I went to the doctor today," she said.

"Okay," he said, taking her hands, "What did you find out?"

"I'm not p-pregnant," she answered with her eyes brimming with tears. Angel sat there for a second staring at her and taking in the news. He felt a simultaneous rush of disappointment and joy. He had almost gotten used to the idea of her having his child. He pulled her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her hair and rocking her as she began to cry.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Are you..." Buffy said, muffled against his chest, "Do you still want me to move in with you?"

"Did you really think that was the reason I asked you to move in with me?" Angel asked, "I love you. I asked you because I wanted to be with you, baby."

"You haven't changed your mind?"

"Of course not."

"I don't even know why I'm so upset," she said, pressing her face against his shirt, "I thought I didn't want it and then I did and I just-"

"It's okay," he said, "I feel the same way."

"You do?"

"Sure," he answered, "Half of me really wanted to have a child with you but I was really nervous about it. I didn't know what I wanted."

"Me either."

"So what do you want to do now?" he asked, smoothing his hands over her back.

"I'm on the Pill," she answered, "We're really not ready."

"No," he said, "We aren't but that doesn't mean we can't have children later."

"I know," she said and then lifted her face looking at him questioningly, "You want children?"

"With you? Oh yeah. Someday," he answered and kissed her gently. As their kiss deepened they didn't hear the door sliding closed behind them. So focused on each other neither noticed the person who had been standing there, listening to the whole conversation.

Go to Part Sixteen