Title: Wolf Pack

Chapter Title: The Kiss

Author: Baby Blues

E-mail: purely_blissful@hotmail.com

Rated: NC-17

Disclaimer: Not mine, but the story is.

Summary: Angelus talk to Buffy the following morning as things fall into place. The rest of the pack share their feelings for the outcome of the battle

Dedication: To Mae, don't get sent back home now, sucka! Lol


~Buffy: Get away from me.

~Angelus: Do you really want that?

~Buffy: I want a lot of things . . . But some of them are too cruel and twisted to say.

~Angelus: I like the sound of it so far.


"Honey? C'mon, sweetie, you have to get up sometime today . . . er . . . tonight and eat," her mother called out to her outside her bedroom door.

"I like the sound of pancakes!" Buffy called out, hoping her mom would take the bait. She was bone tired, hungry, and craving for warm fluffy pancakes . . . chocolate syrup, chopped bananas, and sprinkles.

Yup, she was definitely weird.

"It's already dinner time, Buff."


"Fine. But I want you down stairs in ten minutes," Joyce said grumpily, hiding the fact that she was happy that her daughter was responding to her and that the event the night before didn't destroy her baby girl. She knew these turn of events was a bit traumatizing. She may not know it from experience, but as a mother, she knew these things from instincts. When her daughter was unsatisfied, unhappy, or excited, Joyce knew it without effort.

"Got it."

Buffy walked down the stairs, a smile playing on her lips as she tied her golden blond hair in a simple ponytail. Dressed in a white top and a pair of silky light baby blue jogging pants, she entered the kitchen, stopping dead on her tracks when she caught sight of a large and well-muscled male standing in front of the stove cooking.

"Morning," he said, his voice low and velvety.

Buffy shivered.

"Or should I say, good evening?" he asked, his strong back still facing her. He looked so comfortable in her home, dressed in a simple white wife-beater, black sweats, and . . . barefoot. It looked like he lived there . . . or stayed the night . . .

"What are you doing here?" Buffy asked, trying to put some ice in her tone, but came off as a nervous one instead.

"I'm cooking for you, can't you tell?" he asked with mirth as he turned to look at her.

Buffy's eyes locked with his as she absorbed the amusement on his face. And even with the cut on his forehead, his bandaged left arm, ribs, and the amount of bruises that covered his body, he still looked as beautiful and as dangerous as ever. His beaten form only made him look much more striking.

Buffy just wanted to walk up to him and caress and kiss every part of him, to softly touch his wounds with tenderness that would make him tremble with longing.

Oh, God . . . stop it, Buffy, she commanded herself.

Angelus wasn't doing so well either. She looked too wonderful for words. Wouldn't he love to wake up with this vision every morning, to watch her sleeping face pillowed against his body . . . and to know that she was completely in the nude underneath the covers.

Damn . . .

He would love to explore that heavenly body of hers that he had only seen three times, but would love to see and discover it with much more precision and time.

"Where's my mom?" Buffy asked.

"She went out to get some things," Angelus answered, tearing his mind away from the fantasies that had been conjured up by his brain of him and Buffy together.

She looked at him suspiciously. "You stayed the night?" Buffy asked incredulously, realization finally hitting her.

"The day, actually," he smirked, before turning around to finish cooking her pancakes.

"Why?" she demanded, stalking towards him in complete fury. He had been sleeping in her house without her knowledge! And her mother didn't even bother telling her!

Angelus looked at her, enjoying the way her temper flared with that small knowledge. "I followed you last night, love," he whispered, his eyes searching her face for nothing in particular. "I was right behind you from the moment you left the battle sight to the second you changed and walked inside the house," he whispered huskily, his eyes darkening from the memory of her naked. "I waited outside, looking up at your bedroom window, keeping you safe. Your mother opened the door for me a few hours later and gave me the guest room. She's a sweet one."

"Get out of my house."

Angelus quirked an eyebrow, humor dancing in his dark eyes. "But I'm an invited guest. And plus," he gestured towards the cooking pancakes, "I made you your specific order. Pancakes, and look, I added chocolate chips."

Buffy just stared at him.

"You're hurt," he frowned, as he took her injured hands in his own.

She pulled them away. "I'm fine," she insisted, "They'll heal."

"You should bandage it up," he said, gently tracing the cuts on her palms, "You don't want it to get infected."

"Thanks for the advise," she said and pulled them away again, hiding her hands behind her back so he would stop touching her, thus stop making her tremble with desire. "Get away from me," she deliberately said before whirling around only to get caught by the elbow and pulled against his strong hard body. She managed to keep hold back the gasp that threatened to escape her throat.

Angelus' nostrils suddenly flared from her sweet scent. She smelled like baby powder and rain this time. So sweet and enticing, so innocent and real.

His eyes almost rolled back as he grasped her and pulled her more firmly in his arms. "Do you really want that?" he managed to ground out.

"I want a lot of things," she said truthfully, "But some of them are too cruel and twisted to say."

"I like the sound of it so far," Angelus whispered in her ear.

Buffy jerked away and glared at him. "Bones crunching, wolves howling, people screaming would give you a happy," she reasoned.

He thought for a moment and began nodding. "True."

Buffy shook her head at him in disgust.

"You can't keep pushing me away, Buffy," he said, his eyes wiped of mirth that was replaced by total seriousness. "I won the rights for this pack . . . as well as you. I have taken this clan. You just have to accept it."

Buffy looked at him for a moment, studying his chiseled features. "I don't and I won't."

He stalked towards her in two long strides, catching her off guard when one of his hands settled against the small of her back as he pulled her against him. "You will because I'm going to have you, no matter how many times you try to defy me . . . in the end, I will win your undivided attention, your devotion . . . in simpler words . . . you will worship me," he said, and nipped at her lips as his hand traveled inside her shirt and up her back.

He swallowed her gasp of surprise with a searing kiss, and Buffy melted in his arms, not daring to move away and break this incredible feel of him so close to her. Their lips melded into one, heated with red-hot passion as Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck and as Angelus pulled her even closer to him.

She moaned into his mouth as they devoured each other, their tongues dueling a battle of will and lust. They were so engrossed in their own world that they didn't even notice the two females who entered the premises.

"Oh, my, God," Cordelia smiled impishly, causing Buffy to quickly pull away, eyes wide, lips swollen, and flesh heated.

"Corde . . . " Buffy growled warningly at what her friend must be thinking. Not only that, but angelus stood next to her looking completely full of himself.

Cordelia held up a hand to stop her, and then pointed at the door. "We're gonna . . . " she cleared her throat and pulled a surprised Willow towards the door, "Go . . . we're definitely gonna call you later," she said with a wink before closing the entrance.

Buffy looked back at Angelus' smug face. "I'm telling you, Angelus, keep your distance. You may win me in the end, but I promise you, I'll never truly be yours . . ." she warned before turning to head back up stairs to lock herself in her room.

Continued to Chapter 10: The Gathering
Back to Chapter 8: The Following