Faithless

"Angel, Buffy’s...changed," Willow said carefully after their polite chit-chat was out of the way.

"What do you mean?"

"Well...it all started after you left," Willow began. "She grew distant, you

know, never really talking to any of us. She was totally into the whole

slaying gig, she was deadly. Then Riley comes along and turns out to be some

guy the Council sent to take her out-"

"I know all this, Willow," Angel said, trying to sound gentle. His voice was strained, however, and she knew he was extremely nervous. She paused, not sure how to continue.

"She...she totally changed, Angel. She didn’t listen to any of us, Giles included, she dropped out of UC Sunnydale. And...she got..."

"She got what?" Angel prodded. Willow sighed.

"She got...slutty," she said for lack of a better word.

"Slutty?" Angel asked incredulously. He was trying to digest all that Willow had told him. As much as his mind wanted to disagree, his gut feeling told him she was telling the truth. Buffy had never returned his calls or answered his letters. It had disturbed him much more than he would ever admit that his ex-girlfriend and the love of his undead life hadn’t kept in touch with him. She had totally abandoned him to his dark, dreary world, taking the sunlight she had once shed so brightly on him with her.

"Extremely," Willow told him. "She goes out and parties all night, sleeping around all the time. She’s...she’s so cold, Angel...so bitter," Willow whispered, the sadness in her voice shaking Angel to his soul. "She’s turned into Faith. Only she’s worse than Faith."

"How long has this been going on?" Angel demanded, outraged that he hadn’t been informed sooner. The witch winced.

"Umm...since her nineteenth birthday," Willow said. Angel was silent. Two years...two years since he had made love to her. He wondered if what had happened to their relationship had affected her behavior.

Willow’s words made up Angel’s mind. He would find Buffy and try to end her destructive downward spiral. Which was why he was headed to a club in downtown Los Angeles. Willow had also informed him that Buffy had moved to L.A. a week before her birthday and was living in a small apartment. He had found it long ago and had spent many a night outside of it, hoping to see her leaving or entering. She had done neither in all the time he had been watching.

Angel passed prostitutes, whose false promises of a good time rang hollow in his ears. Neon signs flashed all around him and horns honked. Traffic lights flashed red, yellow, and green, homeless glared at the handsome stranger, and others passed as if he didn’t even exist. Vampires shrunk into the shadows as he strode by, demons moved on inconspicuously away, and crack dealers kept their distance.

Angel was not one to be messed with. Not tonight, anyway.

He came to a halt in front of his destination. Pulling his duster closer to his cold body, he surveyed the scene.

Loud, pulsating music radiated from the dark building that was cluttered on the crowded street. People milled around outside the entrance, scantily-clad women hanging onto men, girls too young to get in trying to bribe the bouncer. Pulling his fake ID and a few bills out, he approached the bouncer, sending the girls who were trying hard to grow up too fast running, and was in the club in a matter of minutes.

He weaved through bodies in the seedy nightclub. The pulses of hundreds of souls pounded into him, tempting the demon within. But he ignored it, focusing his attention on finding her instead. The sexual tension was high on the dance floor, where bodies grinded and swayed to the sultry beat. His eyes swept the crowded floor...she was near. The bond they had once shared was crawling over his senses, allowing him to pick her out of the crowd.

Angel’s eyes bulged as he spotted her. Buffy was in the middle of the floor, her eyes closed as she danced. Angel immediately understood Willow’s concern. She did look like a slut. A tiny blood red halter top that had a deep V, showing off a ton of cleavage and barely covering her breasts, and an extremely short black leather miniskirt that showed off her ass adorned her toned and tanned body. The skirt had a huge slit up one thigh, revealing even more of her. The outfit was completed with a pair of knee high black boots. She had gotten a navel ring and the silver metal spilt the skin above her belly button, the barbell looking incredibly sexy against her dark skin. A silver belly chain wrapped around her thin, toned waist. She was the epitome of gorgeous and she obviously knew it.

Her blond hair had been chopped into a short bob and was dyed a dark shade of brown. Layers of makeup marred her beautiful face, making her look fake and like a doll young girls played dress-up with. Ten men stood around her as she danced and she rubbed her body against each in turn. Angel saw several hands venture up her short skirt and his anger grew, the demon in him raging. She belonged to him, not the horny bastards who were feeling her up now.

The halter she wore showed him just how much she was enjoying the attention.

Her nipples stood erect, pressing tight against the fabric.

Watching her dance infuriated Angel. This had not been what he had meant when he had told her to have a normal life. She was rubbing herself up some guy’s leg when suddenly she stopped and shifted her gaze to his. Her hazel eyes held his chocolate ones and pierced his stare. He saw something flicker in them before it was consumed by emptiness. A slow, sensual smile crept onto her lips and Buffy pushed everyone out of her way as she walked towards him. Without a word she took his hand and before he knew it she had led him out onto the dance floor.

He tried to remember his purpose for venturing inside the notorious club that night. Help Buffy. Stop Buffy. It was growing more and more difficult to concentrate on his mission, however, as she began to move in time with the music, her hips grinding sensuously up against his groin. Oh, God, the sweet torture. His will began to vanish, evaporating with every thrust of her hips. She had turned into quite the little vixen, knowing exactly how to tempt and taunt him. She was using the fact that he had not had her in more than two years to her fullest advantage...

Angel was struggling with himself, torn between the release his body was demanding and Buffy’s well-being. She was presently grinding her ass into his cock, delighting in the hardness that pressed firmly against her. Her eyes were closed and she swayed to the music as if she had been specially made to only continue moving to the rhythm. She snaked her hand out, grabbing the drink from her nearest admirer. They hadn’t dispersed while she had been dancing with Angel, but stayed far enough away. Angel’s glare made sure of that. She gulped it down, loving the way it burned down to her belly.

Angel saw this and immediately stopped his motions. Upset that her rhythm had been interrupted, she spun around and stared Angel in the eye. The bitterness reflecting from her pupils was startling. A twinkle grew suddenly as she twined her arms around his neck, trying to pull him closer. When he didn’t budge she tried a different tactic.

Reaching out, Buffy gently cupped the bulge in his slacks. Angel let out a soft moan, feeling her hands caress him like he had dreamed of for so many nights. His eyes rolled back slightly, not caring who saw. Bodies moved as one all around the couple, sexual tension thick. It was the dark side of humanity at its peak, the animalistic side that made humans no different from vampires. The side where lust and want resided, the same lust and want that were palpable in the smoky air, mingling with the music that spread through the room.

Buffy gently kneaded him, taking pride in his response to her ministrations. They had gradually slipped into their own little world, the men who had been staring longingly at Buffy sliding away in search of other prey when they realized they had lost her to Angel. He felt the last of his battered and worn self-control slip away to mix with the other potent elixirs in the air as Buffy removed her hands and took his in hers, placing them strategically so they cupped her leather-clad ass. Angel closed his eyes, savoring the feeling. Her hands hovered above his, making sure they stayed put. Slowly, with great ease, she began moving her hips. Angel moved along with her, following the lead she had set. They danced, all other titles...vampire, Slayer...slipping away. All that remained was a need so powerful both were frightened by its intensity. Lust radiated from the two as they continued to sway.

Buffy nudged Angel’s legs apart, sliding his strong thigh between her lean legs. Now that he had surrendered to her, she was using him to her fullest advantage. She didn’t know what had possessed the change, but she was thankful for it. She had always been successful in seduction... She straddled his leg and began to rub herself up and down it, the moisture that seeped from her core catching on his black slacks as her clit received some welcome pressure. It left a sticky trail, seeping through the material to caress his thigh. He groaned as he felt the precious liquid, not wanting to waste it on his pants. He wanted to taste her, he wanted to feel her, he wanted to love her.

She had kept her gaze glued to his face all throughout this. While hers was withdrawn and untelling, his was expressive. There was raw want, want and need for what had been denied to him for so long. His mission forgotten, he had long since given up on trying to fight off her attentions. He would allow himself one night, this night, of letting loose and being with the woman who never left his thoughts. No guilt, no remorse. Only Buffy.

They danced together for hours, never once speaking. They only felt. Both were fully aroused the entire time, bodies needing release. As dawn slowly approached Angel saw how tipsy she had become, the result of the last few hours at the bar. Even though she was under the drinking age, the bartender kept her glass full. It hadn’t hurt that she had been bought countless drinks from men wanting something more in return. His conscious slowly returning, he draped his duster over her shoulders and led her away from the intoxicating and addicting promises of the club. She wobbled as they walked, leaning heavily on Angel for support and babbling incessantly.

Angel made a snap decision, steering her towards his apartment instead of walking her to her own. She clutched him as they walked, the streets unusually silent. Cars sat unmoving on the curbs, homeless slept peacefully in their corners and alleyways—or as peacefully as they could, prostitutes off with their clients. The dawn coming closer, those born of and for the night began to disperse, warned off by the coming daylight.

He was having an extremely hard time keeping his head clear as she pressed her breasts against his arm. His erection was incredibly painful and obvious to anyone who looked, making him wonder how he could walk at all. The only thing he wanted to do was pull her into a darkened alley and ram into her until she never thought of another man but him.

Yet he walked on, somehow his will staying firm. They reached his building in silence, a deafening quiet that lasted as they ascended the stairs and entered his sun-proof apartment.

Buffy glanced around, her drunken state registering the room slowly. She looked up at Angel with love in her eyes, the first time she had shown any emotion besides lust all night. Of course, the alcohol had taken her guard down. She moved to kiss him, her small hands firmly placed on his broad chest. Angel, ever the gentleman, didn’t allow her to initiate it...no matter how much he wanted her to. Instead, he led her down the small hall to his bedroom, drawing the red satin coverlet back and placing her in the white sheets after he had removed her boots. She tried to protest, pent-up lust refusing to let her sleep until it was fulfilled, but Angel tucked her in. A protest on her lips, she promptly slipped into oblivion. Angel took a seat in the only chair in the room, his eyes never leaving the beautiful Slayer.

And he wondered what the hell he was going to do.

Angel sat watching her for hours. She looked so peaceful in her sleep, her face innocent and pure. The night’s memories only a whisper in the back of his mind, he didn’t move at all. His erection, though unbelievably painful, was almost forgotten as he stared at her in a trance. He had gotten used to it, so many a night before her seventeenth birthday he had come home feeling painfully unfulfilled. The meditation he had slipped into watching her sleep had made him all but forget about it.

The time she was unconscious allowed Angel to think. He had missed her so much. Staring at her now only reinforced and fueled the love he felt burning deep in his chest. The time apart had done nothing to alter his feelings. She was so beautiful, like a goddess gracing Earth with her lovely presence.

But goddesses didn’t sleep around.

Angel groaned. When he had told her he wanted her to have a normal life, he had envisioned her finding a nice quiet college guy who treated her like gold. Her sleeping with every man in L.A. had not been something that had thrilled him. It cut him to the soul...knowing that she had shared such an intimate act with so many others. Something that should only be shared between two people deeply in love. But was he not a hypocrite to think that?

He himself had slept with hundreds of women throughout the centuries...of course, they had all been before her. And not one of them held a candle to her.

She had suffered, true...felt more pain than any person should ever have to feel. Her true love had abandoned her so she could truly live the life she yearned so desperately for. Her mother had sent her only happiness away and showed no remorse for it. Destiny and duty were constantly at her throat. The man she had begun to trust had tried to kill her. It would send even the strongest person reeling.

But Buffy was the Slayer. She was stronger—emotionally and physically—than regular people. She should’ve bounced back like always, not taken the destructive path she was trapped on. The things she had allowed herself to fall into had taken her away from her duty, her friends, her Watcher. She had tarnished their love in giving her body to others.

Angel didn’t know what the fuck he was going to do with her.

And then his thought were interrupted by the moan that escaped her lips.

Buffy was awake.

Buffy opened her eyes slowly, her head pounding. She felt the need to vomit, but managed to suppress the urge as she gathered her bearings. Cool white satin held her firm body and she stirred, trying to remember who it was she had gone home with...

Angel.

He was watching her, his eyes glued to hers as she slowly sat up, despite her headache. The sheet fell away, revealing her barely-covered breasts. Angel swallowed. Concentrating would not be easy.

Her face remained emotionless as she regarded him. She clamped down on the thousands of emotions that surged through her body. She didn’t let herself feel anything towards the man who had ripped her heart out and crushed it under his heel, in the process damaging it so it could never feel again. The old Buffy would’ve delighted in seeing him again, and the part of her that had refused to let go was even now thankful to be in the same room as him. But that part had been buried long ago by bitterness.

"I knew you’d do anything to get me in your bed again," she glowered, stretching luxuriously. She was well aware of the affect she was having on him.

"Do you want some aspirin?" Angel asked tightly. Why the hell was she making this so fucking hard? She glared and shook her head.

"Do you wanna sit there all night and try with the chit chat or do you wanna come over here and get fucked?" she asked seductively, spreading her thighs under the cool sheets invitingly. Her hands were placed on either side of her for balance. He was fighting a losing battle, it had been so long and she looked so good...

"What the hell is your problem?" he growled as he stood and began pacing.

She grinned devilishly and raised her knees.

"The only problem I have right now is your cock isn’t pounding into me," she replied. He swung his gaze to her sharply. Seeing she had his attention, she slid out from the cool white satin, laying on the scarlet coverlet. Angel promptly looked at the wall, avoiding how heavenly her body looked against the red blanket. Every bit of self control he had used throughout the centuries was called upon to stop him from pouncing on her and ramming into her until she begged for him to forgive all she had done. Seeing his hesitation, she took things a step further as he continued to pace.

Slowly, deliberately, she reached behind her, brushing her dark hair aside to untie the thin straps of her halter. Getting both top and bottom strings undone, she pulled the garment off and tossed it aside. Her breasts bounced freely, their confinement gone. Angel was mesmerized, the woman he had fantasized and dreamed about for years was lying topless on his bed. He could do naught but watch as she cupped each in turn, playing with her nipples until they turned into tiny pebbles. Angel’s inner turmoil grew.

Disappointed, but not discouraged, she slid one hand down to the center of her body. Slipping it under her skirt, it returned a second later clutching her red, dripping thong. She dangled it between two fingertips.

"I know you can smell how ready I am, Angel, how much I want you..." she said huskily. Angel’s erection had grown to amazing proportions in a matter of moments, pressing tight against the fabric of his slacks. She had branded him with her liquid pleasure, the slimy gray trail a telltale sign. When he still didn’t move she unzipped her skirt, which was immediately tossed next to the red halter and thong on the side of the bed. The love of his life was lying naked in his bed.

Naked.

He didn’t know what was stopping him from running to her and plunging deep inside the haven of her body. But he was thankful for it. He couldn’t give in. Even though he was in incredible pain...

Buffy grew frustrated at his state. Her dark hair swinging, her hand once again ventured down her body. Encountering hot, slick flesh, she spread her thighs as one digit slid inside, stretching her walls. She arched into her hand before withdrawing it. Buffy’s gaze locked on Angel’s, she slowly brought the glistening finger to her lips. Sliding it in, she sucked it clean of all her moisture.

"Mmm...tastes so good. Like honey. Want a taste, Angel?" she tantalized. At her words, his frail control broke. Angel leapt onto her, his lips savagely claiming hers. He ravaged with his mouth, his tongue slipping deep inside hers as regular thoughts—rational thoughts—left his mind completely. There was only Buffy, who he intended to take after having being denied from for so long and needed so desperately.

They kissed longingly, Buffy’s hands finding the buttons of his shirt and ripping them apart, pulling the article from his body. Her greedy hands roamed over his cool, hard muscles, his erection cradled in the softness of her stomach. His hands blindly found the button and zipper of his pants, and they were pulled off and quickly discarded.

They lay in a naked embrace as they continued to kiss. Buffy broke it off suddenly and Angel moved to the left side of her throat, kissing and licking the flesh. Her blood rushed underneath her soft skin and it took all his control to ignore the blood lust he felt. He reached her breasts and was about to worship them properly when Buffy jerked his head up and stared him down.

"Get inside me now. I don’t want to make love, Angel, I want to fuck," she growled, spreading her legs wide. Angered for a moment, Angel’s lips turned up in a grin. She wanted to play rough? He’d give her rough. Experienced as she may be, he had had a few centuries to perfect his lovemaking. He’d give her something to scream about...

The head of his rock-hard cock teased her silken lips. Locking his gaze with hers, he slid inside forcefully, reveling in the way her inner walls stretched to accomadate him. He almost lost it right then and there, she was so tight and hot and wet and fucking incredible and it had been forever... She wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him to proceed. He did, his lower body slamming into her faster and faster as his need for release grew.

Leaning down, he captured her mouth in a fiery kiss. Their tongues dueled, imitating the motions of their lower bodies. Buffy reached out and licked the softness of his lips as her nails scratched his back. Snaking her hands down, she cupped his ass roughly, aiding in his thrusting.

She was close, he could tell. Reaching one hand down in between their bodies, he expertly manipulated her clit, teasing it mercilessly. She moaned and arched her back, her hard nipples scraping lightly against his chest. She screamed his name as her orgasm ripped through her body and she shoved Angel’s head down to the right side of her throat, begging him to bite down. His chocolate eyes glowing gold, he was about to pierce her smooth column with his fangs when he suddenly stopped, horrified.

While he had been expecting to see a scar from the time she had forced him to drink her blood, he was not prepared to see different scars where her skin had been punctured by other vampires. Enraged, he pulled out of her as his climax hit, dead seed covering both their bodies and the sheets. His true face still in place, he stared down at her in shock.

"What the fuck’s going on?"

Angel jumped off the bed and began pacing, his nudity forgotten. Game face still firmly in place, a thousand emotions rushing through his body, he didn’t dare look at the dark-haired young woman who was only a ghost of the woman he loved with his entire being. He was in shock, something he was thankful for. If it hadn’t been for the shock, he knew he’d do something he’d regret in the future. Mind reeling, he continued his journey back and forth across the carpet.

Buffy sat up in bed, her belly covered in Angel’s dead semen. A finger idly went down to retrieve it, drawing the sticky fluid off her toned stomach. She sucked each clean in turn, waiting for Angel to speak.

He tried several times to speak, looking like a fish out of water. Buffy’s hazel eyes pierced his body the entire time, unmoving. She found the whole situation rather funny. It had been his genius idea to leave her, yet he acted so possessive. As she mulled this over, Angel found his voice.

"I know that’s not what I think it is," he said dangerously, his finger pointed at her neck. She gave him a bored look.

"Oh, and you’re so goddamn high and knowing, there’s a perfectly logical explanation for it, right, Angel?" she retorted, stretching her long legs out in front of her and lacing her fingers together, resting them on her stomach. She tossed her brown hair, which was sticky with sweat.

"You slept with a bunch of demons?" he demanded.

"Considering who I lost my virginity to, this is surprising?" she countered. Angel blew out a frustrated breath as he tried desperately to calm down. It was futile, though. He felt so betrayed...

"You...I...Why...Uh!" Angel exclaimed, not even knowing how to continue. Buffy’s lips slowly crept up into a devilish smile as she saw how distressed and distraught he was.

"C’mon, Angel. Say it," she urged. "I know you want to."

Her mockery was not lost on him. She thought it was all some game, sleeping around with an assortment of vampires and letting them have a taste of her delicious Slayer blood...

"Why the fuck have you been sleeping around with vampires? Have you lost your fucking mind?" he shouted. Buffy shot out of the bed and began getting dressed.

"You know what? I don’t have to explain anything, Angel."

"You owe me a fucking explanation!"

"I owe you shit, Angel!" she shouted as she tied the straps of her halter top. "You’re the one who left me, remember? You have no say in my life anymore! I’m in control now, not you, not my mother, not Giles. Me."

Angel was at a loss for words. In a blind rage he stalked from the room. Buffy followed as she pulled her boots on. Reaching the door before her, Angel picked up his discarded keys from the table. Fumbling with them, he found the right one and shoved it in the lock. When he had been rewarded with a click, he turned back to her with a wicked grin.

She glowered at him as she pushed him out of the way and tried to unlock the door. Seeing it was a lock and not a bolt, she turned back to him in anger.

"Let me out, Angel!" she cried. Angel laughed.

"No way. Not until you answer my fucking questions, Buffy," Angel retorted. "Double lock," he said, gesturing to the door. "Only way to open it is with the key."

The key that dangled from his fingertips. She tried to grab it, but Angel snatched it out of her reach. Sighing in fury, she tossed her hair and looked about ready to kick the shit out of him.

"Why are you being like this?" she demanded. Angel stared at her.

"Why am I? I think the question is why are you," he told her. Giving him an annoyed look, she stepped back.

"Shouldn’t you be out saving souls or whatever it is you do nowadays?" she shot back. "Mine’s firmly intact, so go find someone else and screw with their life..." Buffy trailed off as her eyes bulged. Angel was still Angel. Angelus was nowhere to be seen. The fury that grew in her was a dangerous thing. Angel felt it and braced himself.

"Why the fuck aren’t you evil?" she screamed. Picking up a random book from the coffee table, she tossed it in his direction, her anger taking over. "Something you forgot to share, Angel?"

"Buffy," Angel started, his hands out in a peace offering. Not wanting to hear his revelation, she marched into the bedroom, fighting back sudden tears. She would not cry. The old Buffy would have broken down and been confused and hurt and wonder why Angel hadn’t shared that important piece of information with her. But that Buffy had been buried long ago. She had seen too much pain to be that naive ever again.

"I saved the life of a gypsy woman. She wanted to show her gratitude, so I gave her a copy of the curse Willow had done to look over," Angel said as he sat once again in the chair after pulling on a pair of sweat pants. Buffy stood in the center of the room, unmoving. "There was no clause."

The old Buffy, the weak Buffy, shone through for a moment. "But Jenny never

had time to fix the happiness clause. Why wasn’t it there when you were

re-cursed?" she asked. Angel ran a hand through his dark hair.

"Jenny found the original curse that her ancestors had altered. There was no clause in the beginning," he informed her. She shook her head suddenly, realizing her slip. Her wall of protection once again firmly built around her, she turned her hazel eyes on him.

"Well, congratulations. Now you can screw as many woman as you want. Just like the good old days, right?" she sneered. Angel rolled his eyes. Every time he thought she would break she held strong...it was a battle of wills that was stagnant.

"Haven’t had the time," he replied, a bit of Angelus flaring up. Her eyebrows quirked slightly at his words but she didn’t seem affected by them. She wasn’t letting herself be affected by them... "But we weren’t talking about me, were we? We were talking about you and your interesting choice of lovers."

"Hold up a minute there, Doc," she said sarcastically. She felt like she was at a shrink’s office. "I never said anything about lovers. I’ve only had one and he’s sitting in front of me acting like God."

Angel was blown away by her words. Maybe there was hope for her after all. If he could just crack her shell...months of helping other people fight their demons had given him the patience and skill to break anyone. And it looked like it was about to be tested.

"Okay, then, the people you’ve fucked. Better terminology?" he asked bitterly.

"It’s all your fucking fault," she spat out as she began walking around the room, fingering his things. Cologne, hairbrush and gel, mirror that reminded him of what he was. She stood in front of it now, her back to him. Her gaze, however, met his perfectly, despite the fact that he didn’t have a reflection. He raised an eyebrow at that.

"My fault?" he repeated. "How the hell is it my fault?"

"You know what?" she said suddenly. "I don’t think it’s any of your business."

Angel glared at her. "Well, if it’s my fault I’m guessing it’s my business. C’mon, Buff, you’re not going anywhere for a while. Pull up a chair and share."

"Buff? Is the almighty Angelus back?" she asked sarcastically, turning to face him. Angel stood and strode up to her. Their bodies touching, they stared each other down.

"Do you want him to come back for a visit?" Angel asked, his lips turned upwards in a half smile. Her eyes danced.

"Sure, I’m sure he’d be a lot more fun than you, Mr. I’d-Rather-Sit-And-Talk-Than-Fuck," she challenged. Angel growled and gripped her arms, pulling her face up to his.

"You sure you want to see him? ‘Cause he’s not too happy with you at the moment," Angel informed her. The demon inside had been raging since he had learned who her partners had been. He was just begging to be let loose for a little while...long enough for him to make Buffy forget about everyone but him. "He doesn’t like his possessions fucking around behind his back."

Buffy’s eyes glowed red. "Possessions?" she spat, laughing bitterly. "I never was a possession of his. You hear that, Angelus?" she called. "I’m not yours. I never was yours."

"Wrong, school girl," Angelus growled as he surfaced, pushing Angel down. "You were mine from the minute you knew about me. You didn’t even look at another guy while your precious Angel was otherwise detained."

Buffy showed no fear in facing the demon who had tormented her for months.

In fact, she looked bored. Angelus was not happy about that.

"Yeah, well, when you have your own personal demonic stalker there’s kinda no time for anyone else," she retorted. Angelus laughed.

"You’re so incredibly pathetic, do you now that?" he asked as he circled her slowly, predator circling predator. "You’re just screaming for attention."

"No, I’m screaming to get fucked," she replied with an edge on her voice. "But you and your alter ego don’t seem to understand that. Why don’t you bring him back, I really don’t feel like talking to you anymore," she said, faking a yawn. Angelus grinned and wrapped his arms around her body, pressing his firmness into her back.

"You sure about that?" he asked as he cupped her breasts. "I can be lots of fun..."

Angel suddenly pulled away from her, once again firmly in control of his body. She realized what had happened and turned to face him. "Be careful what you wish for, it might come true," he told her. She gazed at him with her bitter eyes. Her gaze strayed to the wall, where a colorful picture of a beach sunset hung. His room was sparsely furnished, a queen-size bed, dresser, over-stuffed chair, a few lamps and a night stand filling the room. There were no pictures, save for the one of red and orange rays painting the sky.

"You never answered my question," he said as he took a seat on the bed.

Crossing his arms, he waited.

Sighing, she plopped down next to him, tugging at the hem of her skirt. "You ruined me for any human," she told him plainly. At his confused look she laughed bitingly. "You’re like ice inside me, so cold and you feel so..." Realizing where she was going with it, she quickly got back on track. "Hot, sticky flesh was not the way to go. I learned that right after I fucked Riley and his small dick. God, he thought he was giving me so much pleasure, too! I could barely feel him..." she trailed off. Angel was growing angry, her description making him insanely jealous. Buffy noticed this and sat silently, enjoying his pain.

"So you slept with a bunch of soulless demons because of me?" he demanded.

She nodded cheerfully.

"Doesn’t that just make you feel oh so good?" she asked cynically. "It was actually an easy way to kill them, while they drank, I staked. I got pleasure and killed a hell of a lot of vampires. I mean, what vamp could give up the chance to fuck a Slayer?" she asked, her voice proud. Angel stared ahead at the white wall, breathing heavily. Even though it was unnecessary, it was soothing. He needed to be soothed right about now.

"I don’t get it," he said in a low voice. "What made you abandon your family and friends and go out and whore around with vampires?"

"You."

Angel stared at her in shock, her words barely registering. She was trying to blame this all on him? Where the fuck did she get off trying to say it was all his fault? He had allowed her to have that normal life she had always bitched about. And now she turned around and blamed him for her state?

"Me," Angel echoed. Buffy nodded, a sad smile on her lips. For a moment, she was the same eighteen year old who had almost sacrificed her own life to save his out of love and fear. But it passed and the shell of that beautiful young woman once again sat beside him, her hands straying to her belly chain. Twisting it and pulling it lightly, she continued.

"Yeah, Angel, it was you!" she cried as she suddenly stood and faced him, anger flooding her. He was forced to look up to stare her down and she felt more powerful this way, the interrogator instead of the questioned. "You and your delusions of grandeur. A normal life," she scoffed. "Yeah, and that could almost happen too! God, Angel, for someone who’s been around for two hundred and forty five years, you sure are dense."

Angel growled and put his hands on the bed, getting ready to push off. Buffy’s hands whipped out and held him down by his shoulders as she bent her head low to his. Their foreheads touched as she gazed into his chocolate pools and he couldn’t help as they strayed to stare at the hollow of her throat and the cleavage she displayed. She waited while he got his little cheap thrill.

"You think you’re so high and noble and know what’s best for me! Well, I got a newsflash for you, buddy. You don’t. You don’t know what’s best for me, yet you still make important, life-altering decisions for me!" Buffy shouted as she straightened and looked him hard in the eye. "That’s why I left them all. They tried to control my life. In their own way, each of them did. That’s not how it goes, Angel. I’m in control of me."

"Yeah, and look where it got you," Angel replied through clenched teeth.

Buffy laughed humorlessly.

"Oh, and if I had stayed and been the good little Slayer I would be dead by now. Sorry, Alex, I think I’ll take what’s behind door number two," Buffy said as she kneeled in front of him. Her arms casually draped over his legs, she gazed up at him. "I learned a lot from Faith. I’m a Slayer, yeah. But I’m also a person. I do what I want, when I want. Want, take, have. You don’t like that, fine. Not a damn thing you say or do will change that."

"Buffy, this isn’t the way to live your life. You should be in college, learning and experiencing it, going out with your friends, slaying on the side. Not throwing yourself down this destructive path," Angel reasoned. She cupped her chin in her hands, her nearness affecting Angel more than he’d have liked.

"See, there you go again. Shooting off your fucking wisdom to anyone who’ll listen. I don’t need you to save me, Angel, okay? Do you understand that? I don’t want you to save me," she told him as she gracefully rose and backed up slowly.

"I’m trying to fucking help you, Buffy!" Angel shouted, exasperated.

"Last time I checked I never asked for your fucking help!" she yelled back.

Frustrated, Angel broke their stare and ran a hand through his tousled hair.

"It doesn’t matter if you asked for it, you need it! I don’t care about what happened to you in the past," Angel told her. "You’re the Slayer. You should automatically bounce back after whatever’s thrown at you! I left you, yeah. But you should’ve pushed on and forgotten about me!"

Buffy stared at him with cold eyes. "How dare you!" she shouted, her hands clenching into fists. "You talk about me like I’m some kind of machine. I’m not a machine, Angel, I’m a person. I’m a girl so blinded by love I’ve lost my sight. I can’t control my emotions, I can’t control my feelings," she told him, a shaky finger pointing accusingly at him. "So don’t you dare tell me I should move on and forget you, because it’s impossible. I can’t just bounce right back from whatever’s thrown at me! I’m tired, God, I’m so tired and fucking sick of all the shit I have to put up with every day of my fucking life! Don’t you ever tell me what to feel again. I can’t change that."

Tears of rage had begun spilling down her cheeks during her tirade. She hastily wiped them away with the back of her hand, sniffling and trying to control them. Angel stood and moved to wrap his arms around her, but she shook him off angrily, upsetting her balance. Tumbling to the floor in a heap, she curled her legs under her body, her hands covering her face as she wept. Angel knelt beside her and slowly encircled her body with his arms. She tried to push him away, but the effort was made half-heartedly, and failed. Angel gathered her into his lap and gently rocked her, one hand rubbing her bare back and the other running slowly through her brown hair.

They sat like that for a long time, Buffy pouring all her pain and anger and frustration and fear into her tears. When she finally gathered herself together fragility, she turned her eyes up to look at her dark Angel. They moved back and forth, searching his. Her forehead touched his once more, not in mockery, but in thanks. She allowed her lids to fall shut and she just felt...felt Angel and his arms and for the first time in too long she allowed herself to feel love. It was foolish, she knew, but as she had told Angel it was out of her control. Their moment would end, that she was certain of, and he would leave her once again and she would go back to her new life style...but she pushed those thoughts away and focused on the heaven being in his arms was.

Angel’s hand came up to slowly trace Buffy’s face and as he cupped her cheek she opened her eyes lazily to look at him. Their lips were centimeters apart, so close but not touching, and she pulled away quickly as her brain once again began to function. Sniffling, she pulled away from him and stood on shaky legs. Angel followed her lead, his body deliciously close to hers.

"Sorry about that," she said as she wiped her eyes, smearing the remainder of her makeup. Angel cracked that half smile of his that made her knees wobble and her heart speed up. Try as she may to fight it, the love she had buried for so long slowly began to shine through. She was playing with fire, she was well aware of that, and her feelings would soon be cruelly crushed.

Suddenly unable to look at him, she fled to the bathroom. Angel let her go, understanding her conflict. He felt it as well. The door was slammed shut and Angel let out an unnecessary breath as he sat on the bed, his head dropping to his hands.

Buffy turned on the water in the bathroom, allowing it to warm up. It gave her time to study the haunted young woman who stared back at her. She touched her now-brown locks, something she had done in a moment of reckless abandon. She had been trying so hard to bury the old Buffy, changing her appearance had been the first step. Her clothes seemed suddenly unnatural, she felt awkward in the things she had grown accustom to. Her eyes moved over her body, studying it critically. The eyes that looked haggard and unbelievably old and stood out from her thin face.

Not being able to look at her reflection, she turned her attention to washing her face. She scrubbed it clean, the makeup that had run down both cheeks slowly coming away with each stroke of her hands. Satisfied that it was clean, she turned off the faucet and reached for a towel. As she dried her face, her gaze strayed to the white closed door that was the only barrier between herself and Angel. She didn’t know if she could do this...

Squaring her shoulders, she took a deep breath and opened the door before she could chicken out. Angel looked up as she entered, a sheepish grin on her lips. He stood and walked slowly over to her.

"You okay now?" he asked, concern replacing the scorn that had consumed his voice only minutes before.

"Yeah," she said, avoiding eye contact. She moved over to the bed and flopped down, letting her back hit the firm mattress. Angel sat down next to her and arranged his long body so that it was next to, but wasn’t touching, Buffy’s. He propped himself up on his elbow and waited for her to speak.

"I haven’t cried like that since the day we broke up..." she said, trailing off. Sighing, she rubbed a tired hand over her face. She felt her eyes drooping and she didn’t know how long she’d be able to remain awake. Angel sensed this and urged her to sit up so he could slid her back under the covers. Buffy tried to protest.

"Angel, we still need to talk," she said. Angel nodded.

"We will. After you get some sleep," Angel told her. She curled up into a little ball, hugging her pillow to her chest. Angel noticed this and gently detached her from it. He slid under the covers with her and gathered her in his arms.

"Angel..." she said, unsure. What the hell was he doing? Two minutes ago they had been at each other’s throats.

"Shh," he scolded gently. "I’m better than a pillow. Go to sleep, we’ll figure everything out later."

Only at his words did she allow herself to fully break. Fresh tears welled and she forced them back. He had to be just as sweet and kind as he had been before they had broken up, didn’t he? Make her fall head over heels all over again, only to hurt her unbearably...

Before she could finish the thought she was asleep, her head rested on Angel’s unmoving chest and his arms holding her close. Angel felt drowsy too, and he slipped into oblivion without thinking of the consequences this act would bring. He just cherished the fact that his Slayer was once again in his arms.

Angel awoke long before Buffy did. The time alone gave him time to rehearse what he would say to her and allowed him to mull over the conflicting thoughts he was having. He didn’t know if he’d be strong enough to let her go again. She was his addiction, he a junkie to everything she was. He had tried to quit, tried so desperately his heart had broken again and again and his soul had wept, but it was impossible. She beckoned to him, consuming his every thought until he didn’t know if he’d die from the torture of not being able to see and feel and love her.

And now she was here, in his arms. If he closed his eyes and pretended, nothing had ever happened to break them up and they were still happily in love, oblivious to the gut-wrenching agony both had experienced. But that wasn’t the reality of things.

Buffy stirred beside him, her eyes opening to slits as she once again surveyed the area. Seeing Angel staring down at her brought back memories of the time right before the prom, when things had been the way they were before her seventeenth birthday. She smiled weakly at him and raised her head up slowly, sitting up in the process. Smoothing her short hair out, she rubbed the last of sleep from her eyes and looked at him.

" ‘Morning, sleepyhead," he greeted her. She stretched and yawned before slumping back over.

"Hey," she said softly, her mind reviewing all that had transpired between them in the brief period of time. Her stomach rumbled suddenly, demanding food. Angel grinned at the noise and sat up, leaning against the headboard.

"You’re hungry. Why don’t you go eat and then we’ll talk," he suggested, gesturing to the door. She shook her head.

"Talk first. I can wait," she told him. Realizing she was still wearing her clubbing clothes and boots, she reached down and pulled the knee high boots off. "Do you think I could borrow a shirt and some sweats? These clothes aren’t exactly made for comfort," she said. Angel nodded and stood, going over to his dresser and pulling a black pair of sweatpants out. After getting a silk shirt from the closet, he handed them to her. "Thanks."

Turning his back respectably, Buffy quickly shed her tiny clothing and slipped into Angel’s. She breathed them in, inhaling his scent. Feeling much more comfortable, she took an awkward seat back on the bed, leaning against the headboard once more. Angel climbed in next to her and they sat in strange silence for a time.

"Now what?" she asked, rubbing her hands together nervously. She had given up her act and was just a scared girl who had done some stupid things. Angel shrugged.

"How do you feel?" he wanted to know, concern in his voice.

"Really crappy," she replied. "God, I can’t even think about it right now. I..." she trailed off, taking a deep breath. Looking sideways at Angel guiltily, she continued. "I’m sorry. For everything, Angel."

Angel nodded. "I know," he told her softly.

"Thank you," she said suddenly, her tone extremely serious. "Thanks for still caring enough to make me see how much I was fucking up my life."

"Still caring enough?" Angel said. "Buffy, of course I still care, more than

enough. I still love—"

"Shh," she whispered, placing a finger to his lips. "Don’t say it. I’m not emotionally stable enough to hear it." Angel nodded understandingly. "I can’t believe I was so stupid."

"Don’t analyze it now," Angel said. "You’re too drained to. You messed up, we all do." He cracked an ironic grin. "You are only human, after all."

"But, like you said, I’m the Slayer. Slayers don’t sleep with their mortal enemies to kill them, they just slay," Buffy said, cursing herself for being so incredibly stupid. And she had disgraced her love for Angel as well...

"You made some bad choices. We all do. And I speak from personal experience on that one," Angel said wryly. Buffy nodded as a few stray tears trickled down her cheeks. She let them fall onto her shirt, the fabric catching the liquid and spreading it rapidly.

"When I think back...I was such a wreck after you left, Angel," Buffy said slowly, choosing her words carefully. "I met this guy over the summer named Parker...we...well, you can probably guess what happened. And when I saw him again, he was all over some girl. He had just used me. That threw me into a major depression. I mean, first you," she told him, her hand gesturing in his direction. "Then that...then Riley...I guess—I guess I just snapped."

Angel took her hand in his, gently kneading and massaging the soft flesh. More tears silently spilled, each leaving a wet trail down the slopes of her cheeks before falling onto the burgundy silk.

"I’m surprised you lasted that long," Angel said honestly. "You’re a hell of a lot stronger than a most of people I know."

"Angel, you know a bunch of people who need their souls saved," she teased lightly. Angel cracked a grin.

"True."

"So, what now?" she asked hesitantly, knowing she didn’t want to hear the answer.

"That’s the question, isn’t it," he replied, purposely straying from it. Buffy played with the buttons of the shirt with her left hand, Angel still holding her right one, giving her strength.

"I should probably go, I have to get to work," Buffy said as she got ready to stand. Angel held her back by their linked hands.

"We still have issues to work out," Angel said. Buffy nodded.

"I know."

Buffy stared hard into Angel’s eyes, trying to read his thoughts. There was love in them, love and pain and a million questions. Without warning she collapsed against him, weeping once more.

"You can’t leave me again, Angel. I couldn’t bear it," she said brokenly against the cool column of his chest. Angel gently ruffled her hair, kissing the top of her head softly.

"Shh...it’s okay, Buffy," he soothed. She looked up at him with big, tear-filled eyes.

"It’s not okay, Angel!" she cried. "Nothing’s okay. Don’t you get it? I can’t live without you! I’ve tried and I just can’t. You complete me," she whispered achingly. Angel’s hand unconsciously tightened around hers.

"I know exactly what you mean," Angel said softly. Buffy’s eyes met his once

more and held. "But—"

"No buts, Angel. We love each other so much it hurts," Buffy said, silencing him once more. "Who cares about anything else? Love’s enough."

"Not always," Angel said with a troubled expression.

"It is here," she pleaded. "It is here."

Her words sealed his decision. Pulling her close to him, his lips gently probed hers. Her tears wetted his cheeks, mingling with his own. They lips caressed lovingly, hands coming up to hold faces. Their kisses were full of forgiveness and with each one they healed a little more.

After a time Angel pulled away. Buffy’s eyes were closed and her lips were still pursed, her face leaning towards his. Her hazel eyes appeared from under her eyelids and she smiled at him, her cheek moving to rub against his. Buffy’s rumbling stomach caught both their attentions.

"Go eat something," Angel said, pushing her gently off the bed. She nodded and backed up, her gaze never leaving his. With one last look she turned and left, walking into the kitchen and leaving Angel to put the plan he had formed into action.

Buffy rooted around his small kitchen for food. Settling on an orange and a bottle of Evian, she sat at the counter and ate in silence. She refused to think about what she had done before this night. That was all in the past, and there was only the future. She popped sections of her orange into her mouth and sipped her water in the darkness of the kitchen. It was five o’clock in the afternoon according to Angel’s clock.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. "Buffy, can you get that?" Angel called from his room. Shrugging, Buffy stood and walked to the apartment door.

"I need the key, Angel," she replied. He appeared a moment later, carefully closing the bedroom door after him. Sauntering up to her, he handed her the key and waited for her to open the door.

Cordelia Chase stood on the other side and was taping her foot impatiently when the door was opened. Her eyes flew to Buffy, taking in her changed appearance. Her perfectly shaped eyebrows quirked as she saw Buffy in Angel’s clothing, her mind drawing its own conclusions.

"Wow, Buffy. Haven’t seen you in ages," Cordy said as she strolled past her into the apartment. Whipping around, she faced her friend and wrinkled her nose. "What’s up with your hair?"

Buffy laughed softly. It felt so good to do so once more... "First chance I get I’m dyeing it blond. I hate being a brunette," Buffy replied. She leaned into Angel’s arms, which had encircled her waist.

"Good, it doesn’t suit you," Cordelia agreed.

"What’s up, Cordy? Anyone need saving?" Angel asked.

"What, I can’t come up and see how you are?" Cordelia asked. At their looks, she sighed. "Okay, okay. I came to see if you guys were here, everyone keeps calling and bugging me."

"Everyone?" Buffy asked, her face turning ashen. Cordelia nodded.

"They’ve been calling all day driving me crazy. Now I can go back and tell them you’re here," she said. Buffy looked panicked. "Don’t worry," Cordy said, seeing her distressed state. "They don’t know where Angel lives and they don’t have his number. You’re safe."

Buffy breathed out a sigh of relief. Seeing her friends would take a strength she didn’t possess at the moment.

"Talk to you soon, boss?" she said as she moved to the door. Angel nodded.

"It was good seeing you again, Buffy," Cordelia said, her smile genuine.

"Call me sometime, we can hang out."

Buffy nodded and returned her smile. With a wave she was gone. Angel locked the door behind her and turned back to Buffy with a sly grin. "What?" she asked, suspicious. Wordlessly, he took her hand and led her to the bedroom.

When he opened the door, she gasped. He had set up dozens of candles. They covered every available surface, his dresser, the night table, lighting the room in a soft, romantic glow. The satin of the bed looked so inviting and the candles flickered, illuminating shadows all throughout the room. Angel drew her close.

"Before...it wasn’t romantic. I want this time to be perfect..." Angel trailed off. When she didn’t answer, he continued. "We don’t have to."

Her teary eyes found his, her face beaming. Taking his hand once more, she led him over to the bed and drew him down with her. Pulling him on top of her gently, she reached up and drew his head down to hers.

Their first kiss was tentative and unsure and quickly grew in intensity.

Angel slipped his tongue into Buffy’s mouth, drawing hers out into his. While they were loving each other tenderly with their mouths, hands began roaming. Angel slipped his under her oversized shirt, his hands grazing the cool metal of her belly chain before gently cupping her breasts and kneading them, avoiding her nipples. She moaned into his mouth and arched into his skillful hands, silently begging him for more. He moved down her neck, the side that held all the horrible reminders of what she had done. When he came to the spot he kissed it, sucking on the hot flesh.

Traveling further down, he came to her shirt. Unbuttoning each button in turn, he pulled both flap aside to reveal her full breasts. Pulling her up gently, he quickly deposited the clothing off the edge of the bed. His mouth strayed to one side, licking her hot skin and sending tremors to her core. She was aching for him as her moisture began to leak down her thighs. Bringing his hand up, he fondled her left breast while lavishing its twin with his tongue. Switching to the other side, he repeated his ministrations. She moaned and writhed beneath him, her hands roaming his broad chest.

"Angel," she whispered as he journeyed downward. Pulling her sweatpants and thong off in one quick motion, he lowered his head to her aching center. Feeling his cool mouth and tongue caressing her caused Buffy to arch off the bed in pure pleasure. No one had ever been able to make her feel like this before. All sane thoughts flew from her mind as his mouth attached to her clit and began sucking lightly. She was so close...

"Angel!" she screamed as her orgasm hit hard. She arched off the bed, her thighs slamming into the sides of his head. As she calmed down Angel removed his pants and once more laid on top of her. There was nothing in between them anymore, no boundaries, no barriers. Nothing keeping them apart. Angel’s mouth came upon hers again and she tasted herself and her pleasure on his tongue as she kissed him greedily.

Breaking off the kiss, he stared her in the eye. The head of his cock rested just outside her entrance, teasing her mercilessly. "I love you, Buffy. Forever," he told her.

"I love you too, Angel. You’re the only one I’ve ever made love with and ever will," she whispered. Her words sealing it, Angel slid inside her once more. Both gasped at the feeling of completeness their joining gave them. The candles continued to burn as they lay motionless, just feeling...

"God, Buffy, you feel..." he trailed off, not even being able to convey how amazing being in her once more felt. She was so tight and hot and wet, she nearly burned his cool skin.

"Don’t move, Angel. Just feel..." she said as her eyes slipped shut.

"Look at me, baby," Angel murmured. At his words her eyes snapped open and she fell into the chocolate irises of his eyes, feeling his love everywhere. She slowly slid her legs out from under him, running her toes up the back of his calves lightly. When her thighs settled tightly around his body, he began to move.

Thrusting slowly at first, their gazes stayed locked the entire time. The candles illuminated their joined bodies on the walls, casting shadows on both. It was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. Angel’s fingers interlaced with his love’s and they rested above Buffy’s head on the pillow.

Her moans began increasing, each coming after Angel’s thrusts, which she met with equal power. He began moving faster and faster, pounding his lower body into hers. Their eyes never strayed. Buffy bit her lip as waves of pleasure hit, screaming Angel’s name once more in her climax. He felt so good inside her. Her head was thrown back and her eyes squeezed shut as she came unexpectedly. When she opened them once more, Angel’s yellow eyes met her hazel ones. Knowing what he needed, she turned her head to one side, exposing the creamy column of her neck. As Angel slammed into her faster and faster, he lowered his head down to her neck. Breathing in deeply, he smelt the salt of her sweat and the sweetness of the blood that coursed through her veins.

Licking away some of the sweat, he kissed her neck before piercing her delicate skin, ignoring the other bite marks. They meant nothing to either of the two. As her blood filled his mouth, he came, shuddering and growling. Buffy spasmed around him, her inner walls clenching him tightly. He drank from her in long sips, pulling away before he took too much. His face morphing back to its handsome guise, he gazed down at her.

She smiled up at him, her lips reaching up for a kiss. Angel licked the wound on her neck clean of any excess blood and flipped them over, their bodies still joined. Buffy reached down and pulled the covers over them, neither detaching. They fell into an exhausted sleep, their shadows still illuminated on the wall.