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F E A T U R E D F I C O F T H E M O M E N T
INDEX
BRE'S ARCHIVE
AUTHOR'S ARCHIVE
INTERACTIVE
AUTHOR
SITE
 O N L Y T I M E S E R I E S B Y B R E P A R T T E N Mid-October 1999 Buffy had felt worse in her life, but this was running a close second. Leaning her head back against the wall, she settled against it, sighing deeply as she swallowed roughly. The vile taste in her mouth caused her to shudder in disgust as she closed her eyes. Placing a heavy hand on her stomach, Buffy groaned. She hated getting sick. Almost as much as she hated hospitals. It made her feel like she was heaving her entire inner workings into the toilet only to be flushed away. "Buffy! Are you okay?" Looking up tiredly, Buffy nodded her head to the empty bathroom as she leaned forward to grab the edge of the counter. "I’m fine. Just a little... stomach ache." Pulling herself to her feet, Buffy immediately reached for her toothbrush sitting in its little cup. A stomach ache. That’s all it was. That’s all it felt like. Well, it did when she woke up this morning to the feeling of throw up dancing across the back of her throat. She had made a mad dash for the bathroom, almost spilling the contents of her stomach in the hall before she reached the toilet. And the rest... well, thinking about it only made her feel worse than she did so she concentrated on grabbing the toothpaste and smoothing it onto the toothbrush. Buffy could hear her mother coming down the hall softly as she scrubbed at her teeth and wasn’t surprised when her mother poked her head into the bathroom, moving in fully when she saw Buffy standing. "Did you get sick?" she asked, worry coloring her tone. Buffy didn’t reply as she spat her toothpaste into the sink, quickly washing it away with water as she straightened. "Yeah. But I’m feeling better." She did feel better. Much better. It was just as if her stomach had needed to empty itself instead of waiting for the food to be processed like other normal stomachs. She felt a little queasy but she could tell it was slowly disappearing. And it definitely wasn’t as bad as when she had awoken that morning. Rinsing her toothbrush, Buffy replaced it before wiping her hand across her mouth. Turning to face her mother, she put on a brilliant smile. "I’m just ducky." Joyce just looked down at her daughter, doubt on her face. Lifting her hand, she felt Buffy’s forehead. "Are you sure? It didn’t sound very ducky." Rolling her eyes, Buffy gently pushed Joyce’s hand away. "I’m not sick. I promise. I never, ever get sick and when I do, we know this, right? Remember last time?" Joyce remembered. It may have been six years ago but the terror on her daughter’s face had been too real to forget. Buffy’s fever had gotten so high that Joyce had decided to go to the hospital, just in case. Buffy’s father had told she was overreacting and stayed home, but Joyce knew better. She knew when her child was sick and when she did and didn’t need more help than chicken noodle soup. As she drove to the large white building, Buffy had fallen asleep in the back and was asleep all the way through the process of waiting until a doctor was available. But the instant Buffy had been laid out on the hospital bed, her eyes had snapped open and she practically dove right back out of it. Joyce would never forget the look in her daughter’s face as she held her to her chest, rocking her back in forth as the little blonde cried. All she wanted was to go home. But the reaction had agitated her temperature and the doctor requested that she stay overnight for a checkup. Joyce had stayed with her and she wouldn’t forget the feeling of her daughter clutching her hand so tightly she felt her ring biting into her flesh. It wasn’t until later that Buffy told her she had started disliking hospitals the day her cousin died right before her eyes from a seizure. Refocusing on her daughter’s bright eyes, she smiled easily. That was of the past. Buffy was older and far more mature than when she had been when she was ten. She knew she could handle fevers and hospitals much better now. "I remember, honey, but this is different. You don’t have a temperature of 106 degrees." Buffy rolled her eyes once more as she pushed past her mother. "All the more reason that I should go to school. There really is nothing wrong with me." "Buffy, you just threw up," Joyce objected. "But I feel better." Standing before her mother in the doorway to her bedroom, Buffy placed her hands on her hips. "I’m good. Not even warm. I’m cold even. Which is why I’m going to go to school and have a good time learning and all that jazz." Joyce narrowed her eyes. "Why are you so eager to go to school all of a sudden?" Buffy paused for a split second before making an exasperated sound. "I’m always excited to go to school. I like to... learn." Joyce couldn’t help the chuckle that crossed her lips at the look on her daughter’s face. Leaning forward, she shook her head. "I love you, Buffy," she said, kissing the blonde’s tan forehead. "But you really are the weirdest daughter in the world." "Love you, too, mom," Buffy replied sarcastically, but she smiled. "I’m going to get ready now, okay?" "Alright. Do you need a ride to school or is Oz coming by today?" "Oz. And Willow. And maybe even a little Xander thrown in there. I’m covered." "Okay." Staring for a few seconds more, Joyce turned and walked a few paces before turning back. "Are you sure you’re alright?" "Mom, I’m fine. I feel a thousand times better." Joyce didn’t look nearly as convinced as Buffy would have liked but she turned anyway and continued walking. Staring after her for a moment, Buffy finally turned, shutting her door as she moved to her closet. Buffy felt great actually. She didn’t really know how to explain what had happened a few mere moments ago but she felt as if it had never happened. Which was good because her day was turning around and she smiled as she stood before her closet. She might get to see Angel today.
Buffy was angry. No, she was mad. Enraged, even. It took a good amount of willpower not to slam the door shut behind her as she stormed into her room. Her mother was already concerned enough with the way she had been acting lately. Didn’t need to throw a mother/daughter argument in there. Tossing her bag carelessly onto her bed, Buffy flopped back against her comforter, staring at the ceiling. She didn’t understand why she was so angry or why she wanted to punch Angel so badly. Three days since she had left him a message the day she had thrown up. Three long days waiting for him to call back, and she never heard anything. She left him another message, and he still didn’t call back. She called both his cell phone and his home phone. No answer. No response to her messages. It was really pissing Buffy off. And she didn’t even know why. She was sure he had a ton of other things going on. He had to with the workload he said he took home every night. So she really shouldn’t be getting so mad but there was a little voice in the back of her head wondering why the hell he wasn’t spending as much time with her. They had been "seeing" each other for at least five months, maybe even a little more, and he was still treating her like they had just met. What the hell was his problem? Sighing angrily, Buffy sat up and looked around her room coldly before spotting her phone. Snatching it off her desk, Buffy dialed the long-ago memorized phone number, holding it to her ear as she listened to the ringing. Sitting on her bed, she listened to the endless ringing before his breathy voice answered. "Hello?" "Angel?" Buffy furrowed her brow as the phone shuffled for a moment before he answered. "Buffy?" "Yeah, hi. I’ve been trying to reach you." "You have?" Buffy hated the way his voice sounded. It only made her angrier. "I haven’t heard anything." "I’ve been leaving messages for a while now. Are you okay? Or did you just happen to fall off the face of the earth for three days." She heard his pause on the other end followed by someone else breathing. Confusion creased her features as she tried to listen harder, but she was interrupted by Angel responding. "What’s wrong? Are you okay? You don’t sound so good over there." Buffy couldn’t tell whether he was being truly concerned or just playing it off like an asshole guy would. But no matter what the truth behind the words were, she deflated and her shoulders sagged as the words circled in her brain. Doesn’t the fact that he said them mean something? "No, I’m... I’m fine. I’m just... I miss you." Her small voice seemed too loud in the room as she waited for his response. "I miss you, too, Buffy. I’ve just been... busy, is all." "Busy? With work?" "Yeah. You know how that is, right?" Buffy didn’t know what to say. On one hand, she wanted to tell him to come over and prove to her that he was really telling the truth. On the other hand, though, she wanted to ask him what he really was doing. She couldn’t seem to shake the odd suspicion that something else was going on and it fueled the dying anger in her chest. "Yeah. Yeah, I know how that is." She heard his pause once more before his loud sigh. He switched ears once again and he said, "Do you want to meet somewhere tomorrow?" Buffy breathed in and spoke without thinking. "Yeah. Where?" "I don’t care. A restaurant? How about that new one on Main?" Buffy nodded. "Okay. What time?" "Just come over after you get out, okay? I’ll be there." "Alright. I’ll see you then?" Buffy couldn’t hear the own hope in her voice as they hung up after a few seconds. Buffy felt like a weight had been lifted off her chest and she sighed before setting her phone on the side table gently.
"Buffy? Are you okay?" Willow could hear her friend heaving from the inside of the bathroom stall and she knocked gently as the sound finally dissipated. "I’m fine, Will... just a little disagreement with the stomach." Willow frowned at the soft tone of her friend’s voice, but pushed on. "Are you sick? Do you want to go home?" "No. No, I’m good. Just had to... be sick." Furrowing her brow, Willow continued, "Are you sure? This is the second time this has happened, isn’t it?" "It’s nothing. Just a little virus or something. I’m good." "Maybe you should go home," Willow continued, listening as Buffy flushed the toilet and stole some toilet paper from the dispenser. "If you have a virus thing." Buffy didn’t respond as she opened the door to the stall, stepping out. Smiling at Willow, she walked towards the mirrors, looking at her reflection. Frowning at the pale person who stared back at her, she pulled her bag before her, rummaging through it. "Buffy..." "It’s fine, Willow," Buffy snapped, turning to glare at her redheaded friend. At the startled look on Willow’s face, Buffy’s shoulders sagged and she sighed. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you." Willow watched as the blonde applied a healthy amount of new makeup to her face as she spoke, "I just want to get out of here." "To go see Angel," Willow finished as she leaned her hip against the sink next to where Buffy stood. Buffy missed the mixed look her friend threw her as she grinned happily. "Yeah. To see Angel." Willow didn’t know if she was honestly surprised at the sudden change in her friend’s attitude. At the first mention of Angel’s name, she turned into a glowing ball of happy light. And Willow didn’t want to be the one to burn that light out. It was nice seeing Buffy this happy, but the reason for said happiness wasn’t exactly so... nice. "Where are you meeting him?" "That new restaurant that just opened a few weeks ago." "Oh." "Would you mind covering for me. If my mom calls, can you tell her I’m over at your house?" Willow paused, staring at her friend with a deep frown before forcing an uneasy smile as Buffy turned to her. She nodded. "Yeah. That’s okay. I’m cover-girl." Buffy grinned as she popped a mint into her mouth. "You’re the best, Will. What would I do without you?" Willow refused to answer that question as she followed Buffy out of the bathroom.
"Mr. Roarke? You have a phone call on line two." Looking up, Angel scowled, pressing the little button to call his secretary back. "Who is it?" "A Ms. Wills." Furrowing his brow, Angel responded, "A first name, please." "Victoria." Victoria? Did he know a Victoria? Shaking his head slightly, Angel shrugged to his empty office. "Tell her I’m in a meeting." "Yes, sir." Leaning back in his plush chair, Angel stared down at the file before him. He wondered where it was exactly he had met Victoria. He gave his phone number out to numerous women, knowing full well it was very likely that he wouldn’t remember who they were when they called but also knowing that it would be convenient if he ever felt the need for female companionship. And this case was no different. The more he concentrated on the name, the harder it was to bring up a face that could possibly match it. Sighing, Angel stapled his fingers, resting his chin on them as he turned to look out his large picture window. He wasn’t quite sure why he had turned down Victoria. He was fairly certain that he would have made it clear that he would be technically using her for a brief period of time before discarding her. He took careful steps to never fall into the mistake that would be a relationship. Taking a moment to gnaw on his tongue, Angel knew that he would have been able to meet Victoria and still have time to get to the restaurant for his rendevous with Buffy. Although he wasn’t sure if that would have been a good idea. Buffy had been quite... needy in the recent weeks, the few times that he had seen her that was. Angel found that it was taking more than usual to keep her sated and he didn’t quite know what to think about that. Not that was complaining because as time passed, she continually kept him on his toes as far as her experimentation levels went and he enjoyed her innocent curiosity and blossoming beauty. She was by far one his better conquests and never ceased to surprise him. But one of the things that did keep him constantly looking over his shoulder whenever he was in her presence was their age difference. That was definitely something he knew he should be more careful about... but he couldn’t seem to actually give a damn when she was by his side. She did not, by a far leap, look her age, especially the way she had been dressing recently, and her growing confidence whenever she was around him helped keep up her appearance. But he wasn’t sure that was enough. In the beginning, it had been fun, taking such an naive and inexperienced girl and showing her what it meant to be a woman. But as time passed, and they grew closer - in the bedroom, because he was not stupid enough to get involved romantically with a sixteen year old girl - things changed. He didn’t know if it was that she was becoming more attached to him or he to her. It was obvious that she was something of an obsession for him because he was entirely unwilling to give her up, but he wasn’t sure where to draw the line anymore. When their little affair had begun, he had kept everything inside, indoors where no one would be able to see them. Now? He didn’t care anymore, just as long as he could have her anywhere and anytime he wanted. This afternoon was a fantastic example of that. He would have never dared taken her out to eat after their first sexual encounter and now, the minute she calls saying she misses him, he’s at her beck and call, the urge being even worse in that he had been practically avoiding her calls and taking other women into his bed. Why it was that he had been avoiding her, he didn’t quite know, but one thing he was extremely certain about was that he wanted her. Now. And badly. The mere thought of seeing her and taking her, especially after their long break, was enough to make him cancel his entire afternoon and go pick her up. There was something so pure about her, something that never ran out and that he could never get enough of, something no other woman seemed to possess, and he didn’t know what it was... wasn’t sure he wanted to really know. A loud beep interrupted his thoughts and he turned his chair around, habitually reaching for the call button without even thinking. "Yeah?" "Mr. Roarke, your one o’clock meeting is beginning." Cursing silently, Angel stood, grabbing his jacket as he said, "I’m on my way." Checking the time to confirm his secretary’s reminder, he made a mental note to cut it off in time to meet Buffy.
Buffy knew she should have been aggravated with him. Should have stopped him and told him no to what he was clearly wanting to do. But she didn’t. Couldn’t. Because she wanted it just as bad as he did. Needed it. Her body was aching the minute his hand grazed her shoulder and he looked down at her. The minute their eyes met, she knew they would not be eating lunch. After she had waited for fifteen minutes, she had been ready to get up and leave, let him come and wait for her, when she felt his hand on her. The rest was, as they say, history. His hand was up her shirt the minute they entered the men’s bathroom, the door slamming open and hitting the wall forcefully. Neither cared nor took the time to hide what they were doing. Angel stumbled towards the nearest stall, half dragging Buffy with him while at the same time trying to give her enough room to keep up with him. Annoyed with the little progress they were making, Buffy was ready to jump up and wrap her legs around his waist when they finally reached the cold metal door. Without their lips breaking apart, Angel pushed her roughly into the stall, following suit. Buffy’s back banged painfully into the door but she didn’t care, nor did she take a moment to make sure no one was in the bathroom with them. Returning his favor, she pushed him back into the opposite wall, the time of travel minimal as Angel struggled with the door, finally closing it fully and barely locking it before turning his attention back to the blonde in his arms. Buffy couldn’t believe how good his lips felt against hers. It felt like an eternity since she had been touched by him, since he had touched her. Nails scraping against his suit, her hands found their way down to the buckle of his belt as Angel continued to grope her breasts. He groaned loudly as her long nails scraped against his erection roughly as she fought with his pants. Without even thinking, Buffy began to maneuver him towards the black-cased toilet so he could sit. She didn’t bother to check and see if there was a lid on it - there was no such thing as lids on the toilets in restaurants, or at least the ones she had gone to, but she didn’t care, nor did she notice that this one did have a cover and it was down. Angel sat down with a muted smack and Buffy softly bit at his lips as she slid to her knees before him. Her hands worked faster as Angel’s fingers wove trail through her blonde locks, taking hold and squeezing tightly. Before she knew it, his large member had popped free and stood tall before her eyes. Buffy opened her mouth and looked up at him through her lashes. She found him staring down at her, his eyes dark with lust and passion, the likes of which she hadn’t seen in a long while. It only made her wetter between her already slick thighs. Not taking the time to tease him, Buffy took him entirely in her mouth, her tongue immediately swirling around him seductively, her lips tightening instantly. A loud moan in the form of her name fell from his lips and he let his head fall back for a second before her returned his eyes to her actions. There was nothing more erotic than the sight of her blonde head bobbing up and down in his lap, her pink lips wrapped around his hard cock with the most delicious pressure. He could feel his heart and breath quickening as she sucked, quiet cries falling from his throat as she continually reached the mushroomed head of his cock, her tongue slipping over the seeping tip before slipping back down. He was sure he would die before she finished. "Buffy," he grunted, his fingers tightening in her hair. She moaned iresponse, the vibrations from her throat sending pleasurable jolts through his system. "Oh, god, Buffy... stop." She once again moaned around him, her head shaking no as she increased her speed and her pressure. "Buffy," he growled, his voice surprising loud in the small space. "I want to come inside you." Buffy began to hum around him and she almost shouted in pain as he roughly pulled her head away, pulling her to her feet by her arms. She could barely comprehend what it was he was doing as he simultaneously pushed his pants lower on his hips while reaching underneath her skirt and slipping into her underwear. Their groans were in sync as his fingers dove into her dewy wetness, his fingers pushing deeper. Buffy felt her body jerk as he pulled her hips closer to him and he smiled up at her as she looked down on him with dazed eyes. "So wet," he whispered, licking his lips. That simple act was enough for Buffy to come right then and she opened her mouth in a pant as he circled her clit roughly. "You want me inside, baby? Right... there?" "Oh!... Angel, yes... now," Buffy whispered down to him. He smiled up at her, a teasing smile as he continued his slow movements. "Angel, please. Now. Now... now..." Her whimpering was like an aphrodisiac in and of itself and Angel couldn’t hold out any longer. Tearing the thin panties she wore, he pushed her skirt up her legs and pulled her closer. She didn’t have to be told to spread her legs on either side of him as her hands found his shoulders for balance and both of them gasped as she sank down on him, his fingers digging into the skin of her hips painfully, surely leaving little marks where his nails were sinking into her. She immediately moved to pick herself up and Angel helped to push her back down, his hips moving to meet her. As he slammed her down onto him, Buffy felt loud cries building in her chest and she bit her lips as she leaned her head forward, letting it rest against the crown of his. Moving together, their soft grunts and moans echoed loudly in the small bathroom as they worked each other towards completion. Buffy could feel her orgasm building quickly and she wrapped her arms around Angel’s head tightly, cradling it against her body as she fought the urge to cry out her pleasure. She felt almost powerless against the feelings coursing through her body, but she had also never felt more alive. "Oh, god," she whimpered into his hair," Oh, god, yes, yes..." "Buffy," Angel moaned, his arms wrapping around her waist. Buffy felt like she was being turned upside down as he suddenly stood up and slammed her into the stall door. Crying out, she felt her fingers clawing into his jacket as he thrust into her harder, her hips smacking against the metal door. It was almost too much and Buffy couldn’t hold it in anymore. As Angel thrust into her harder, she was hit with her orgasm and a loud cry fell from her lips, followed by another as he finally came with her, his thick seed coating her walls as he arched against her. A silent moment passed full of heavy breathing as Angel trapped her against the wall. She didn’t even want to think about moving. She was warm. Content. She let her head fall back against the stall door, a loud thud echoing in the bathroom. "I really needed that," she whispered to him, her eyes closed as his hot breath fluttered against the skin of her throat. Angel chuckled. "Me, too." She let out a dry laugh before it was cut off by the sound of someone darting out of the bathroom. Buffy gasped as her eyes snapped open and she immediately tried to look over the walls to see who the culprit had been, despite the fact that she knew he was no longer in there with them. "Oh, my god," she whispered harshly, "Somebody was in here." She attempted to remove herself from the door where she was trapped beneath Angel’s heavy bulk when she felt him laughing. She stared down at him where he rested against her shoulder and she smacked the back of his head in hopes to make him stop - this was seriously not funny - which only seemed to make him laugh harder. "This is not funny," she said, her lips almost pulling back in a smile at the sound of his laughter. "Not. Funny." Angel only chuckled in response before kissing her lips gently. "I know you’re laughing, Buff," he said between kisses. His tongue slipped into her mouth and she returned the favor whole heartedly, ignoring his comment and temporarily forgetting that someone had been listening in on them. After a moment passed, Buffy felt Angel begin to untangle himself from her and she felt entirely unstable as he settled her back down on her heeled feet. He quietly cleaned himself off as she looked around the floor for her panties as she readjusted her skirt. "Angel," she said, looking around. He looked up at her from where he sat on the toilet. "Where are my panties?" He merely threw her a half smile before standing up and opening the door. "Angel!"
As Buffy finished emptying the contents of her stomach into the bowl, she settled back against the bathroom wall as she flushed the toilet. She was just glad that her mother wasn’t here at the moment. She was sure she wasn’t in the mood to talk to her mother about her continued, and very strange, bout of sickness. She didn’t think she could handle the questions that would be thrown her way, mostly because she some of the very same ones for herself. And they were very disturbing questions. Slowly standing up using the counter, she allowed herself to look in the mirror. She looked... tired, but happy at the same time. That didn’t stop the dread from seeping into her bones and giving her deep chills. She wasn’t quite sure what was wrong with her, but she knew that she wasn’t exactly ill because she felt perfectly fine... except for the horrible nausea. That was something she couldn’t explain... and wasn’t quite sure she wanted to explain. Staring into her own eyes, Buffy searched them for answers before giving up and allowing her eyes to drift down to her stomach. She wasn’t stupid. She knew the symptoms when she saw them. Or had them. With a strong chill dancing down her spine, Buffy slowly lifted her shirt and stared at her washboard stomach. Without taking her eyes off of it, she whispered, "Am I pregnant?" The panic that suddenly hit her didn’t allow her to answer as she ran from the bathroom, avoiding her eyes in the suddenly harsh mirror.
She couldn’t believe how long it took to wait for that damn stick. It shouldn’t take this long. Her hands were shaking so badly she could barely stop herself from wringing her fingers just to keep them occupied. As she paced around her bedroom, she stared at her floor, her eyes flicking to her clock radio every few seconds to check the time. Just a few more minutes... Buffy didn’t allow herself to think about what might happen if she was pregnant. There was no question as to who the father was. She had only ever been with one man. One older man. Oh, god, Buffy felt like her chest was going to explode and she could feel her heart beating a million miles per hour. It shouldn’t be going that fast. It shouldn’t be going that fast... Glancing up at the clock again, she continued her pacing. A few more minutes... Digging her nails into the cold skin of her hands, she waited impatiently for the clock to reach the right numbers. She should call Willow. She should tell Willow. No, no, that would be bad. She should deal with this on her own. It was her mess. Oh, god... Looking up at the clock radio, she felt her breath catch as she saw that the time she had waited for had passed. It was ready. Turning slowly, she stared at her desk where it sat, white and alone against the wooden background her desk provided. It was faced down and she couldn’t see the results from where she was standing. She should call Willow... Shaking her head, she fought to take a deep breath. She was amazed at how hard it was. It shouldn’t be that hard to breath... Taking a step forward, Buffy stopped. What if she was pregnant? What would happen? Where would she go? She certainly couldn’t tell Angel, she could never tell her mother, she probably couldn’t even tell Willow... what would they all think of her? God... Taking another step, Buffy paused again, before taking another step. Buffy repeated the process until she reached the desk and, as her hand hovered over the stick, she felt tears slowly burning her eyes as they began to surface. "Oh, god..." With shaking fingers, she picked it up and turned it around before dropping the stick back down to the ground. "Oh, my god," she sobbed as she followed suit.
l be kind, rewind l back to top l
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