The Life and Times of...

Picture from Raelyn.

Angelus woke first, as he usually did, to watch the first rays of the sun slant over Buffy’s body. 

Shinning in her golden hair, highlighting rounded hip, smooth legs, and gracefully curved spine. She was sprawled over half the bed, the white sheets a startling contrast to her bronze skin, her arms folded under one of the many pillows scattered over their bed. 

They had been married almost a year now, growing closer with each passing day both physically and mentally. It was that last, though, which was still a struggle; they alternated between wanting/needing to feel each other closer, more, all the time, and scared to allow the other to become that intimate. Sex was one thing, sleeping with each other, in each other’s arms, another level to their relationship Angelus had never experienced but found he enjoyed sharing with Buffy. 

But to constantly share one’s mind? The feelings, thoughts, stray comments or observations the other could feel? He wasn’t sure he was ready for that. 

Safe and happy, her sleep filled with dreams of him and them, things that they’d done, and hopes and fantasies for the future. Steadying himself, the Ancient focused on Buffy’s sleep hazed mind with a gentle touch that was more loving caress than anything else. Wanting to experience what she was, wanting to know what she was feeling in the moments before wakefulness. 

Usually it was only strong emotions that allowed him to feel what she was feeling and very, very rarely could he actually hear what she was thinking. 

That had only happened once and it had shocked Angelus so much, caught him so off guard, he couldn’t duplicate the feeling. They were holding court during Tariff-day, a once a year celebration where he, and now Buffy, greeted to the seemingly unceasing petitioners as they paid their yearly levies and any fines they might have incurred, and listed to any and all – and he did mean all – complaints.

There were dancing troupes, jugglers, entertainers of every kind, kingdom and even Land renowned bards, and a special night where the people of the kingdom honored Buffy’s first Tariff-day. She had been so excited about the festivals and general celebratory atmosphere that it had rubbed of on the citizens. They’d competed with each other to give her gifts, poems and songs dedicated to her, flowers, jewelry, and gowns. She loved every minute of it. 

Even Angelus, who usually looked forward to Tariff-day with all the enthusiasm of getting his fangs pulled, was caught up in her happiness and sheer delight in the day. 

With his beautiful wife sitting beside him as they watched a particularly excellent dance troupe from the dais he’d had set up solely for the day, Angelus found himself concentrating on Buffy. On the pleasure she got from the gifts bestowed on her from his – now their – people and how the laughter lighted up her entire being at the comedy sketches. How, when she turned that smile on him, he felt warmth spread throughout his own being. 

He couldn’t imagine his life without her, remembered that loneliness and tedium that plagued his days and haunted his nights before they’d met. Never again would he have to think on that time, for Angelus knew that Buffy was never going to leave him; he’d never be alone again. It was a strange and intense feeling that shifted something inside of him. Everything fell into place, perfectly, as if it was always meant to be this way. 

He had lifted her hand then, kissing the knuckles with a smile. “You are exquisite when you laugh, my love,” he said. 

“Thank you, Angelus,” she had said as their eyes locked promising passionate delights once the celebrating was finished. She smiled at him again before, somewhat reluctantly, turning back to the performance before her. 

“If you wish them to stay, it can be arranged,” he had said, thinking he was replying to her spoken question on keeping them in the kingdom longer; this particular troupe was from the Hunter Lands and traveled here only for Tariff-day. At her startled look, Angelus assumed that she didn’t think he’d agree, but she quickly corrected him.  

It had been a mere idle thought, something Buffy had planned on taking up with him later, after the day was over. The fact that he had, in essence, completely read her mind and not, as they thought, simply inferred from her expression what she was thinking shocked them both. 

Later that night they couldn’t decide if it had been a fluke or they were getting closer to joining their minds, and consequently the rest of their beings. They tried reading each other’s thoughts for several days afterwards, but nothing. Then they scaled back, thinking that reading each other’s emotions in the course of their regular day was a smaller and easier second step. 

Occasionally it worked, but not often. It was still during their lovemaking where they experienced all the other wanted, craved, felt, thought. Sometimes when Angelus was in private sessions with his council and Buffy was seeing to the daily running of their household, she could sense his anger over their posturing. She would immediately stop whatever she was doing and latch onto that link, usually teasing him out of his anger and laughing at his boredom. 

Then she’d promise to go to him after the council left, making love to him with her straddling his lap as he sat in his throne. Buffy often laughed at that, saying that Angelus’ ego was such that he needed to always sit in that throne, even when making love to his wife. 

Bringing himself back to the present with a fond, loving smile, Angelus continued to listen to Buffy’s dreams, drawn deeper and deeper into her mind, into her thoughts and feelings. One hand held his head, but the other itched to touch her, feel her skin warm under the rising sun, feel his own warm from hers. Not one to resist such temptation, Angelus did just that. 

And again he asked himself, was this something he was ready for? That final step, the last lock to release allowing their minds to fully merge, their beings to know everything of the other. He couldn’t give a solid unwavering answer to that question. 

However, on mornings such as this one, when he watched his beautiful wife wake slowly, stretching her sleeping muscles, turning her head to face him, smiling at him and then, finally opening her emerald eyes. 

It was seeing this, knowing that everything she did was for him that Angelus wondered; what it would be like to feel more than the intense emotions he usually experienced from/with her? To understand what she was thinking as she woke and all the times during the day they weren’t together. 

Brushing a kiss over her parted lips, he smiled, “Morning, beloved.” 

Deepening the kiss, Buffy scooted over the scant inches that separated them and wound her body around his. “Morning, lover,” she murmured and kissed him back. 

Sighing again as the kiss ended, Buffy rested her head against his chest, listening to the faint sounds that kept his body alive. In the classic sense vampires didn’t live, they existed; blood fueled their bodies though they produced no waste as an after product. Their hearts didn’t beat – though they did feel – their lungs didn’t require air to function – though they did often use their olfactory senses for hunting and other activities.

It was all part of what made vampires immortal. It was that way with the Hunters, too, though the citizens there soaked up the sun for life, requiring little to no food-like substance to continue living. Elves were similar in their immortality, though they ate a variety of food, their hearts beat and their lungs swelled with necessary air to live. 

But to Buffy, Angelus was alive, it didn’t matter that his heart didn’t beat under her ear, only that he was there for her to lay with. 

As her fingers lazily traced patterns on his smooth chest, Buffy closed her eyes, concentrating on his emotions. She wanted, desperately, to move their relationship to the next level, to know what he was thinking and feeling every second of every day for the forever they had together. Knowing how resistant he was to the idea, Buffy kept that part of herself carefully closed off. 

She’d wait for him to come around; it was only a matter of time, Buffy was sure. 

Except eternity was ages long and she was impatient. With every day that passed, she fell deeper in love with her vampire, and knew, that no matter what happened, for her, this was it. Angelus was the only one she’d ever love. The only one she could love. She had bound herself to him through blood, spirits, body, and mind; there was no deeper connection. 

Buffy hoped he felt the same, but he’d never said anything to that effect. Then again, he hadn’t cast her aside as she’d first feared and he certainly hadn’t tired of her body or company. 

Just as well, Buffy was more addicted to him than she cared to admit even to herself. Love and lust often created a ball of need within her that Buffy was hard pressed not to share with Angelus. 

He purred in contentment, now, and Buffy smiled, feeling the purr under her hands, vibrate throughout her body, a physical sensation as well as a mentally soothing one. 

“What are your plans today, love?” He asked as his hands tangled themselves in her long, long hair. Only once had he wished for it to be shorter, but that was because the long strands had snagged. He loved seeing her golden locks flowing around her naked body but that night they’d tangled, horribly, in his favorite pair of chains. 

The lovers switched mostly to scarves after that little incident, though Angelus still kept the chains. There was just something about her shackled and spread for him that turned him on unbearably.

 “Drusilla and William are back at court, I was going to meet with them and hear what they had to say about their journeys. They went to deliver my father’s Coronation Anniversary present because we couldn’t get away this year and I wanted to hear about that. Plus I think Darla is back – again – from the mortal realms and I wanted to make sure she caused no trouble.” 

“I still,” he admitted as he continued to run his fingers through her golden locks, “Have a hard time believing that you and she are…what’s the word? Getting along?” 

It simply boggled the mind that his sire was amenable to Buffy, more that Buffy allowed Darla to stay in the castle when she was in the kingdom. Darla made it no secret that she wanted her favorite childe back, yet after that first dinner the three had had together, she hadn’t done anything about that. Angelus was torn between worry that she’d do something to Buffy and relief that he didn’t have to worry about her doing anything to Buffy. 

It made him most irritable whenever the two were together.

“Let’s just say that we’ve come to an agreement,” Buffy smiled softly at her husband, raising her lips for another kiss. 

It was still early; there was plenty of time for them, though she did love this, this talking with him before they started their day. It was the same at night, after their usually frantic coupling, they’d lay in bed, discuss their various days, observations – which sometimes differed even though they attended the same event – before making love again. Sometimes it was slower, taking the time to again memorize each other’s bodies, but mostly it was equally fast and passionate, a rush to that completion they so craved with each other. 

“What’d you do to her?” Angelus asked as he rolled them over, trailing kisses along her jaw and down her neck. 

“She didn’t realize that I was one of the strongest practitioners of magicks in the Elfin Kingdom and wasn’t afraid to use my powers on her if she threatened either of us. We’d stop to eat during that first ride and talk; surprisingly enough we have several things in common, not including you, and so long as we steered clear of you as a topic of conversation, all was well. The tree Darla was leaning on when we had that talk?” 

Angelus gazed up then, stopping his worship of her body to look at her, brown eyes alight with humor as he listened. “She made the mistake of bringing you up, claimed that you would always go to her as she was your sire. I don’t think there was even ash to mark the tree’s spot when I was done,” Buffy finished as her hands urged Angelus’ lips back to her breasts, nipples aching for his attention. 

Flicking his tongue briefly, he asked against her skin, “Why didn’t you tell me? I was worried she’d try something when I wasn’t there to protect you.” 

Touched, Buffy simply melted inside, all the love she felt for her husband bursting forth in an uncontrollable wave. “You worried?” 

Again, he stopped his ministrations. “Yes, beloved, of course I did; I always worry about you when I’m not there.” 

“I can take care of myself, Angelus. Plus Oz is almost always with me when I leave the castle.” 

“I know but I don’t care. You are mine, Buffy, my wife, my lover, my eternal, and it is my duty to protect you.” He brushed his lips against hers. “I don’t ever want anything to happen to you, Buffy, nothing.” 

Smiling again, Buffy returned his kiss, swept away in the passion that simmered between them. Angelus was impatient this morning, his mouth devouring, tasting every inch of her body. When his fingers teased her heated core, Buffy could no longer contain herself and cried out his name, the link that automatically sprung between them during their lovemaking strong with life as she did so. 

Smirking against her clit, Angelus bit with blunt teeth on the hard nub, sending her into another spinning orgasm. “Love, open your eyes,” he ordered, positioning himself at her entrance. 

When she did, looking at him with a miasma of emotions floating in her emerald eyes, Angelus thrust home, sinking fully into her as deep as he could, then deeper still when Buffy wrapped her muscular legs around his waist, raising her hips. Their eyes still locked, they moved together, the raw passion escalating even further until the pinnacle they so desperately sought was reached. 

Shifting into his vampiric image, Angelus buried his face in her neck, breathing in her scent before gently sinking his fangs into the mark there. Inner muscles clamped around him once more as Angelus’ own orgasm shot through him. 

Running his tongue over the puncture marks, Angelus’ mind drifted. He couldn’t get enough of Buffy, felt a bottomless well of lust for the woman whom he had married and didn’t want that to ever end. He needed her as he had needed nothing else in his long life. 

Contentment and peace stole over the vampire as he rolled them over, exhausted, careful to stay inside his beloved as he settled his head against the pillows. Buffy sighed; her head resting on the hollow on his shoulder, a spot, she said, that was created especially for her. She couldn’t have moved if Oz had stormed in right then declaring them at war with her Elfin Land, and didn’t care. 

Her body was loose and well pleasured, and her mind pleasantly clouded with Angelus. 

“I love you,” she murmured quietly. 

But Angelus heard her; vamp hearing and all. “What?” He asked his body stiffening with unaccustomed emotions underneath hers. “What did you say?”

Buffy raised her head to look at him. She hadn’t meant to say that, knew that while she loved him with everything in her and he showed her affection she was positive he’d never shown another, love was something else. Cursing herself, knowing that Angelus wasn’t ready to hear those words yet, much less say them back to her, Buffy wondered what to do. 

But there was no turning back, the words had been spoken and couldn’t be dismissed. Or, she hoped, ignored. 

“I said I love you, Angelus. And I do.” He wasn’t saying anything, just lying there with a look on his face that scared Buffy who quickly assured him even though it broke her heart. “You, ah, you don’t have to say them back, I understand.” She didn’t, but what was she to say?  “I just…I just wanted you to know how I felt, that’s all.” 

“That you,” he swallowed then, clearing his throat. “That you love me.” His voice was hoarse, eyes hooded but to her, they clearly showed his emotions – fear, shock, and hope; a small glimmer of hope. If the whole thing weren’t happening to her, Buffy would probably laugh. As it was, she felt her heart breaking. 

“Yes.” 

“I…” Angelus shook his head, having no idea what to say to her. Instead, he showed her what he could not say. And hoped that was enough.
**********
It happened five days later. 

Buffy sat beside Angelus as they discussed the happenings of their kingdom with the council. It was fairly mundane, and Buffy was revising her decision to attend the meeting that day when Gunn and Oz burst through the doors, dragging an injured guard with them. The vamp was obviously exhausted, dried blood caked his brow and one cheek and he limped as if he had fallen a great distance. 

The advisors began babbling all at once, not accustomed to interruptions of any kind, let alone such abrupt and disturbing ones. Angelus stood immediately, striding forward to see what had happened, Buffy right next to him. 

“What is going on?” He roared into the din, silencing everyone.

“Nicholaus was on patrol at the far end of the kingdom, near the Rezov boarder,” Gunn said, still holding the bleeding slightly broken vamp between he and Oz. 

“And…?” Angelus asked, folding his arms over his chest and glaring.

Buffy turned to one of the ministers and quietly murmured, “Can you please ring for some fresh blood to be brought?” At the man’s startled look, he was as caught up in the new scene as any of them it seemed, she tried again, hoping to remember his name. “Theophilus, fresh blood, please?” 

The young minister, the youngest vamp in the room, nodded at her request and went to the doors to do his mistress’ bidding. He might be one of the ministers, but she was queen. 

“My Lord,” the guard said as they led him to a chair where he collapsed ungracefully into it, “I have news of a group that wishes to take over your kingdom.” 

The ministers began talking all at once again but Angelus silenced them with a glare. He was finally doing his job, ruling his kingdom and not leaving matters to his advisors as the monotony of his life had caused him to do – Buffy’s influence, he knew – and while they took his renewed interest well enough, he knew they liked the power they’d held for years much better. Still they listened to him and that was what mattered. 

“And…?” Angelus asked again. 

“I was securing the boarder near Rezov, we’ve had problems with them claiming territory that is ours,” Nicholaus said as if everyone present didn’t know that. 

Angelus growled at the man, but Buffy placed a hand on his stiff spine where no one else could see her soothing and caring gesture. The touch was meant to silently urge him to listen to what the guard had to say; it worked because she felt Angelus relax under her hand and he simply nodded for Nicholaus to continue. 

“I tracked one of the Rezov to a small cave except I believe they had already crossed back over the boarder. The group meeting there and was only about fifteen strong, the part I overheard was by who I think was the leader.” The vamp gasped as he sifted in the high-backed chair and Buffy wondered if he’d broken ribs, too. 

Theophilus returned with a pitcher of blood wine and walked straight to Buffy, bowing as he handed her pitcher to her. “I have summoned the physician as well, my Queen, and ordered more food to be brought.” 

“Excellent, thank you, Theophilus.” Buffy took the pitcher and goblet, pouring some of the blood wine for the guard before handing him the cup. He smiled at her gratefully, drinking deeply before answering. 

“Thank you, my Queen,” Nicholaus said with a smile that held something close to awe. She was beautiful; he’d never had the chance to see her close up, having been on boarder patrol for several long years now. He blinked, but the beautiful vision before him didn’t so much as waiver; her gown was green and it matched her eyes, Nicholaus noted, a flowing piece of embroidery that was an artwork in itself. It looked heavy, how did his petite queen carry all that material? 

Then she smiled at him and the young guard knew he was lost. Anything she wanted from her he’d give. He watched as she moved to stand once more next to his king, her husband, and Nicholaus remembered his duty. 

Already he could feel the blood move through him, strengthening him. Setting the chalice on the table, Nicholaus straightened and looked at Angelus. His duty was clear: protect his lord and lady. A beautiful creature that was kind as well; Nicholaus wasn’t sure how Angelus – the most vicious of the Ancients – had managed to win the hand of such a vision, but Nicholaus was grateful. 

“They wanted to kill you and the Queen, my lord, claiming that your time had come and you’ve outlived your usefulness as ruler. The leader, he was tall, burly, his voice loud and carrying. His scent was Aurelius, but I’m unsure of his Sire; it was no scent with which I am familiar. He wanted to branch into the mortal realms, bridge our two lands and take over there as well.” 

Angelus said nothing for a moment as Nicholaus’ words hung in the air. Mixing with the guard’s words was their king’s rage and the gathered ministers kept quiet as well. 

No one hurt his wife; no one but him should he so desire. He almost laughed at the thought that anyone would want the tedium of ruling, but refused to give up his place. The thought of taking Buffy and leaving, going wherever they wanted without the constant demands placed on them was appealing, but Angelus ignored it. This was his kingdom and he’d be damned if he’d let it go, especially to a bunch of rogues. 

“Gunn, gather as many guards as you feel is necessary and ride with Nicholaus to the caves. They’re probably gone, but I want them tracked; bring the bloodhounds if you want, I don’t care. Find them and bring them to me,” he instructed a dark smirk growing on his handsome face. “I want to meet those who think they can harm what is mine.” 

Gunn nodded, looked at his friend and comrade, nodded once to the elf, and left, Nicholaus on his heels despite his obvious injuries. Oz turned to Buffy, moving the few paces separating them to stand by her side. Until this threat was obliterated, she wasn’t going anywhere without him. He’d been lax this past year, allowing the safety of the castle to lull him into other duties; training with Gunn, seeing to Buffy’s personal guard, and courting, of all things, one of the council member’s childer. 

All that stopped now. 

Angelus nodded once at Oz in approval and turned to his wife. “If I am not with you, Oz is. I don’t care where you go; one of us is to be with you at all times. If I hear otherwise, beloved…” he trailed off, leaving the threat hang there. Buffy knew he probably wouldn’t truly hurt her, but his worry for her was a powerful thing and she could feel it crawl through her. 

“I understand,” she acknowledged. “Will you allow the doctor,” she asked instead, “To see to Nicholaus before he goes back out?” 

Pausing in his instructions, Angelus debated. What did he care that the boy was injured? It was his duty, as a member of the guard, to see that his lord and lady were safe; that duty, no matter what his condition, was his until his final death. Seeing the look on Buffy’s face, Angelus wondered how he’d come to be joined with such a compassionate being. It was all well and good when that compassion was directed at him, her husband, but at others? He didn’t like it and scowled in jealously. 

Buffy smiled a reassuring grin that was meant to sooth and reassure. Finally he nodded, “It’ll take even Gunn a bit to gather all they need, but see that the doctor is quick about it.” 

Buffy nodded and murmured, “Yes, my lord,” for the benefit of the council. Then she hurried after Gunn and Nicholaus, with Oz following her mere steps behind. She was well aware that time was of the essence and that vamps healed quickly, but if Nicholaus collapsed before they reached the caves, what good would that do?  Especially as he was the only one who could lead them there.

“I want to know,” Angelus said in a deceptively calm voice that made everyone tremble, “How it’s possible that this happened. I want to know why I wasn’t informed of this sooner. Minister of Intelligence, Gualcherius; am I given to understand that your vaulted network has somehow failed?” 

Gualcherius swallowed, a fine tremble going through him once. His king’s wrath was well known and the minister never wanted that wrath directed at him. “No, my lord, I shall see to it personally, my lord.” 

“Excellent,” Angelus said smiling now and all the ministers trembled once more even – especially when Angelus’ voice didn’t rise. “I want to know how many follow this vamp, who his sire is, where he hides when not in caves near the Rezov boarder, and I want to know now!” 

Scattering to find whatever information they could, all but Theophilus left the room in a hurry. “My lord?” The minister questioned in an almost timid voice.

“Yes?” Angelus asked as he anxiously waited Buffy’s return. Granted Oz was with her, but Angelus didn’t care. Every moment she wasn’t in his arms, he’d worry. Perhaps this minister was the perfect being to take that worry and rage out on. Angelus was contemplating various ways to torture the vamp to release this boiling of emotions he was feeling when he listened to the minister’s words. 

“If the council was unaware of this threat and that guard found out only by accident,” Theophilus said, “Then it’s possible someone has betrayed you and the Queen.” 

Angelus nodded and realized that someone who thought along the same lines as he, well, Angelus couldn’t torture him no matter how appealing that was. Damn the vamp, the young minister wasn’t saying anything Angelus hadn’t already thought of. His ministers knew everything, and what they didn’t pass onto him, Angelus already knew anyway. The fact that the other ministers hadn’t said anything about it further angered Angelus and made the Ancient realize that his council wasn’t what they once were: trustworthy and reliable, loyal only to him. If someone in his council claimed no knowledge about this insurrection, it was because they were hiding it.

“I know,” he said, then, “Find my childer William and Drusilla; I want them back in the castle within a fortnight. And Theophilus,” Angelus waited for the minister to look back at him, “Don’t tell anyone of your suspicions. If you hear anything, report only to me. I also,” Angelus continued as he once more thought of Buffy, “Want you to watch your Queen. Her First is with her, I want you there as well whenever another advisor is present.”

Theophilus nodded, already moving to the door to find his mistress. He stopped again when Angelus added, his voice cold, smooth, deadly, and most scary of all, promising. “If anything happens to her, I shall hold you personally responsible. And if you betray her, your fate will be even worse.” 

Swallowing, Theophilus turned back to his lord. “I swear to you, Angelus, Ancient of Aurelius that nothing will happen to the Queen so long as I exist.” 

Angelus nodded and watched the young councilman exit. If something happened to Buffy, his wrath would tear apart those who did this, their families, their entire line. Perhaps his whole kingdom. 

He couldn’t lose her and would slaughter anyone who dared to take her from him.
~~~~~~~~~~
Theophilus stalked through the castle with purpose, searching for Buffy and her First.

He thought, in the moments he’d left his king, to find Angelus’ childer himself. However, to do that he’d have to break his vow to the Ancient and frankly, Theophilus wasn’t looking forward to that. He liked his life and wanted it to continue. 

There were several elfin guards that Oz insisted stay in the kingdom as part of Buffy’s personal guard; they’d do nicely for this search. The problem was Theophilus wanted the best, most trustworthy, and he needed Oz’s opinion for that. 

Catching the queen’s scent, Theophilus headed down to the kitchens. Turning the corner, he watched as Nicholaus stood, buttoning his shirt, the doctor packing his instruments, and Buffy looking on. She said nothing, offered no advice, issued no instructions for rest, or whatever it was that non-vampires needed. 

Theophilus’ admiration jumped a notch; she was concerned for his welfare but not to the point of stupidity. Time was of the essence and Nicholaus was the only one who knew where the cave lay. His queen truly was a unique woman. 

Standing by the door as he had not yet received permission to approach her, Theophilus waited for her to acknowledge him. She offered a small smile when she saw him, and the minister thought himself lost. The elf was beautiful, her life shinning from her so brightly the minister knew how his Master had fallen for her. Nicholaus and the doctor left but the Cook continued to glower at them even as the guard quickly disappeared around the corner. 

Apparently, she didn’t like her kitchen in chaos. 

“Yes, minister?” She asked, nodding to him before doing the same to the cook. “Francisca, please prepare my lord’s favorite cake this eve, we’ll be supping in our rooms.” 

Francisca continued to scowl, not at Buffy but at the disruption to her kitchen; still, she nodded and went to see to the meal. When the cook had moved to the other side of the kitchen Buffy turned back to Theophilus. Vamp hearing being what it was, Francisca could still hear them, but for this, none of them cared. 

“My Queen,” Theophilus started, “I have need to speak with your First.” 

Oz frowned but didn’t move from Buffy’s side. He was too well trained and completely loyal to Buffy to do so without her permission. Added to that, the fact that there was now a threat against her life…nothing was moving him save Angelus. 

“Of course, Minister.” Buffy said graciously. And went to speak with Cook as Theophilus and Oz walked to just outside the kitchens. 

“First, I have been charged with finding my lord’s childer, William and Drusilla. I can’t go myself, I’ve given an oath to my Ancient not to leave the Queen’s side, and every loyal vampire guard is to protect the castle and my lady,” the minister began with a quick glance at the kitchen doorway. They were probably far enough away that Cook or any of her helpers couldn’t hear them, but Theophilus was suddenly paranoid, more so than being minister to an Ancient had ever made him. 

“I would like your permission to use one of the elfin guards.” 

“The Ancient wants his childer here?” Privately Oz thought that a fine idea. William and Drusilla were fond of Buffy, and would no doubt defend her with their lives. They’d do so if for no other reason than they were afraid – and rightly so – of Angelus’ wrath should they fail.

“Grace is the fastest and the most adept in our magicks of those that came with us,” Oz said, already walking back to Buffy. “I’ll send her to you before the day is out,” he promised before disappearing back into the kitchen. 

“Thank you,” Theophilus said and knew Oz had heard him. Step one accomplished; Oz, he knew, was as good as his word. Now to find what the other ministers were doing. As Junior Minister of Defense, Theophilus was in charge of all the guards, Gunn reported to Angelus as the Ancient’s First, but he also reported to Theophilus. Granted, Theophilus’ position was more political, Gunn was ultimately in charge, but at least the junior minister knew what went on in the kingdom.

Hurrying towards the stables, hoping to catch the vampiric First before he left, Theophilus vowed to pay more attention to his job. Complacency had gotten them nothing but trouble, after all.
~~~~~~~~~~
As she had promised him earlier, Buffy waited for Angelus in their rooms. 

Dinner was served, the footman only recently departed, Oz was outside the door, once again standing guard as close to her as allowed. She had tried to convince her old friend that she was perfectly fine in their rooms and that Angelus would be there shortly. Oz hadn’t listened, staring straight ahead still as a statue; honestly Buffy hadn’t expected him to move from his position. 

The doors opened, causing Buffy to turn form the far windows where she watched the reds and purples of the sunset. She smiled when Angelus walked in, looking more tired than she had ever seen him. She was touched, true, that he worried for her safety but she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. Their first meeting had proven that, she thought, hadn’t it? 

Walking up to him, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down for a welcoming kiss. Little by little, as the kiss deepened, Buffy could feel the tension drain from her lover. 

“Let’s eat,” she said as her hand clasped his, guiding him to the table near the same window at which she was just standing. The room was large enough – nearly an entire wing – that several windows on each side allowed almost constant sunlight to enter their rooms.

“I saw Oz outside, where are your personal guards?” He had asked Oz, but he wanted to hear it from Buffy, too. 

Sighing as though she’d told this several times already, Buffy answered as she served his dinner. “They’re on rotating shifts, three at a time with Oz by the door.” She knew he knew this because he’d have to pass them to enter their rooms. The chances of him not questioning Oz was also slim enough to laugh at. “And what of you, Angelus? Where are your guards?” 

“It’s not me I worry for, Buffy,” he said as he absently popped a piece of meat into his mouth. “Nothing is to happen to you. I won’t allow it.”

Smiling, Buffy leaned across the table, touching her lips with his. “I worry for you, Angelus; please, have your personal guards with you?” 

One of his large hands cupped her cheek, the thumb running across the smooth surface. “If that is what you wish, then I shall.” 

“Good,” Buffy smiled again, knowing that there was little doubt she’d get her way. “Then eat, love, Cook is most anxious to hear how you enjoyed the meal.” 

“Is that your only reason for rushing me through it?” Her husband asked with a twinkle in his eye. Nearly all the tension of moments before was gone, though Buffy could still see it around the corners of his eyes, the tightening of his mouth. “Or would you rather I expend some of that energy on you?”

Laughing Buffy nodded. “Definitely, Angelus, most definitely.”

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