Angel continued to stare at her blankly as Buffy stood before him, the smell of her soap and shampoo, hell…just the mere scent of Buffy… overcoming his senses and forcing him to acknowledge the voice screaming at him, Look away you moron!
She's naked.
Of course she's naked, idiot. She just got out of the shower!
Yelping, Buffy reached to cover herself better and almost ended up losing the towel all together. “I—uh, Angel…what are you doing here?” she asked, completely off guard.
“I…you left in…um… You’re all wet…” Blushing furiously he regained his composure and turned around, his back to her now. “There’s a robe, in the closet,” he offered.
She glanced at the armoire door and inched her way to it, dripping all over the carpeting, the water leaving dark splotches against the burgundy. Yanking the door open and holding it to shield herself she dropped the towel and engulfed herself in terry cloth.
“Okay…I’m…decent, sort of,” she announced a moment later and he turned hesitantly.
“Sorry…really…I knocked. You didn’t answer and I got worried…I didn’t hear water…”
“It’s fine, really. Uh…come in,” she offered, taking a seat in one of the high-backed chairs. “What’s up?”
His eyes lifted to hers, taking in every glowing inch of her freshly scrubbed skin, of her hair damp and forming ringlets in the warm air. She was gorgeous, and for a moment he forgot why he was even in her room. “I, uh… I thought we should talk… The way we left things…”
“Oh…right. Sure.”
“I can come back later, though,” he told her, rising to his feet.
“It’s fine, Angel,” she assured him, pulling the robe more tightly around her. “I mean… Unless you’re too uncomfortable. I can get dressed.”
You’re an idiot, her head screamed at her. It’s not like you’re not wearing anything. Get a grip.
Taking a breath, and the high road, she smiled. “You wanted to talk?”
He sank on to the bed, grateful that at least she could be mature in such a situation because he was still a little weak in the knees from the sight of her. Better not to look up at her…but no, that would be rude…
Dragging his eyes up he tried not to notice how completely angelic she looked, surrounded in yards of white terry cloth, hair dark and damp and curling around her sweet, unpolished face, her legs tucked up under her as she sat in the over-sized chair. Angelic…and irresistible.
“I wanted to get the air cleared between us,” he said in a rush, determined to get this over with and not to think about the uncomfortable and growing tingling in his pants. I’m too old for this, he sighed mentally.
“Oh…sure. That would probably be good…since it looks like we’ve got some time. For a change,” she smiled gently. “We haven’t really had much of a breather since I got here.”
Her demeanor was so different than it had been in his room earlier and it left him more than a little confused. Watching her nervously his eyes moved from a stray thread on the comforter, to her, and back to the thread before he let out a forced laugh that sounded false and nervous even to his ears. “I…” he began, then stopped and clamped his mouth shut again. “I’m not sure where to start.”
Her fingers picked at the thick tie around her waist. “Me either.”
Facts. State facts. Good, safe…facts. “My memory came back…completely.”
She nodded encouragingly. “That’s good. No side effects?”
He shook his head. “It was a little much, at first. It all came back in a rush. Everything.”
“I understand that…we lost our memories for a while last year, only completely…no idea who we were. And since I don’t have a driver’s license…”
Grateful for the change of subject, his interest perked. “You didn’t even know you were the Slayer, then.”
“I figured it out pretty quick. I was a superhero…Joan the Vampire Slayer.” She grinned at him sheepishly, then blushed when he laughed out loud.
“Joan?”
Her eyes widened slightly. “It’s a perfectly decent name.”
“You’re not a Joan.”
Her chin came up. “I felt like a Joan.”
The flicker in his eyes had her grinning after a moment before they once again fell into uncomfortable silence.
Swallowing hard he took the plunge. “Buffy…look, I know that before, without my memory…I was different. A lot’s changed in three years…more than I’d even realized.” She was quiet, her eyes down. “I’m afraid that I might have…given you the wrong impression of…that I might have done some things to…” Stopping once again he took a breath. Oh, you’re doing greeeat.
“Buffy,” he began again. “I think I may have done some things while our memories were screwed up that may have…made things more confusing between us. Between you and me,” he clarified. “And I wanted to apologize.”
“Oh,” she said softly. “Okay.”
“I had no right to…kiss you like that, in the hall.”
“I told you before it’s fine, Angel,” she pointed out. “No harm done.”
“Still. I yelled at you, I kept things from you. I wouldn’t blame you if you were a little upset with me.”
“I’m not, really. You were under the influence of the spell. That’s all it was,” she assured him, the thought sadly, That’s all it was.
“I don’t want things to be strained between us, Buffy. But I also don’t want things to be the way they have been, either,” he continued, shifting on the bed to better face her.
“What do you mean?”
“We don’t talk anymore.”
“Well…no, not really.”
“I didn’t tell you about Connor, and I’m sorry for that. You deserved to know.”
Her legs came down onto the floor, the robe hitching up just a bit to reveal very tanned skin against the stark white of her outfit, the pale-pink paint on her toes. If that’s how he was going to play it, she’d have to accept that. “Angel… It’s been this way for a long time now. You left so we could have separate lives. And we do. It happens, people grow apart. It doesn’t mean--” He opened his mouth to speak and she held up a finger, cutting him off. “It doesn’t mean we don’t care about each other, or that we’re not friends. We are. But I can’t run to you every time I have a problem... and you can’t call me with every little detail of your life anymore. We have jobs…duties. I understand that.”
“I don’t like it,” he admitted.
Smiling sympathetically she moved to the bed and sat next to him. “Me either…but it’s what we chose.”
Her green eyes were filled with mixed emotions when he dared to look into them. I didn’t choose this for you. You were supposed to have it better…opportunity, love, a life. I left you to give you all that and I don’t see it, Buffy. I don’t see you having any of that.
“Are you happy?” he asked after a moment.
“Am I happy?” she parroted, frowning.
He nodded. “Are you?”
She thought about it a moment, her lips forming a delicious little frown as she contemplated her existence. “I’m not…unhappy.”
He saw through her vague answer and acknowledged it with a simple look. “Okay, okay,” she grumbled. “Things could have been better. A lot better. But for the most part…I’m dealing.”
“You’ve had a lot on your plate.”
“Same goes for you.”
“What’s been the worst of it?” he asked then, generally interested.
She sighed, sitting back a little, resting on her hands. “My mom…obviously. But so much since then. Giles left…which he says was for my own good, and I don’t know…maybe it was. But part of me still really wishes he was here. I miss him so much.”
“He’s like a father to you, that’s understandable. I’m sure he misses you, too.”
“And raising Dawn’s not easy…but I guess you know about having a teenager around. Willow going through her magic addiction really didn’t help things…and Tara dying. That still hurts. I couldn’t do anything to save her,” she admitted softly. “She died by human hands and I couldn’t do anything.”
“Sometimes you can’t,” he said simply, and she nodded.
“Doesn’t make it easier, or hurt less.” She was quiet for a moment, thinking of her fallen friend, before clearing her throat. “Dying.”
“What?”
“Dying was the hardest thing. Actually…no, dying was the easiest thing. One swan dive into the light and it was over. Being brought back…”
“That’s what killed you,” he finished, understanding.
She nodded. “I’ve never felt like that. Lost…alone…almost desperate.”
“I remember,” he murmured.
“Now that’s something I could have used you around for,” she said with a small smile. “Expertise on dying.”
“I’ve done it a few times,” he said, sharing her smile.
“What about you? Having a son…Darla coming back…couldn’t have been the best times of your life, either.”
He shrugged, laughing a bit and stretching out on the bed, head resting on his elbow. She followed suit, daintily pulling at the robe to keep herself covered. He tried not to notice that the deep V in the neckline was still gaping open just a little. “After I found out about you… I left.”
“For Sri Lanka or somewhere,” she recalled. “You told me, when we met.”
“Right… And when I came back, I guess I was just…shut down. I’d given you up…given up on us…so you could have a better life, and you’d died. Nothing really seemed to matter anymore.”
“Don’t be,” he said, squeezing her hand but not letting go. Instead he looked down and watched their fingers, entwined together. “I mourned for you, or tried to, and when I came back I told myself I had accepted it. Then you came back and it shattered everything I’d built up, all the walls. I had to see you, had to know it was really you and that you were okay.”
“Angel…”
His eyes moved to hers. “And then Darla arrived, pregnant. I hadn’t thought about her since I threw her out of my apartments.”
Her eyebrow quirked. “You threw her out?”
“On her rear.”
“Darla. You threw Darla out after you’d…you’d…”
“Tossed her out, naked,” he grinned wolfishly.
“You did not," she gasped, wide-eyed.
“As a jay.”
“I bet she loved that.”
He smiled impishly. “She tried to stake me.”
“This is one of the things I want to remember, but not visualize, for the rest of my life,” she grinned.
“She showed up, pregnant,” he continued, “and I knew it was mine…one mistake, one stupid moment where I let my own problems take over…and the result was a son. My son. A child. Something I didn’t ever expect to have and…”
“Who hasn’t proved to be as easy to care for as you’d expect.”
He rolled his eyes. “No… when he got kidnapped I thought the world had ended. And then suddenly he was back…and he hated me. He still hates me.”
“No, he doesn’t,” she corrected him. “He’s just…eighteen. We all hate our parents, especially fathers, at eighteen.”
“He was raised to hate and destroy everything I am. A vampire, a demon.”
“You’re only half-demon. And he hasn’t given you a chance.”
He shrugged again. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about him. I’m sure it was a shock.”
“It was… Well, yeah, it was a shock. I mean, vampires aren’t supposed to be able to have kids, much less two vampires together… It didn’t really help that you had him with Darla,” she admitted. “Is there an expiration date on cattiness?”
“She tried to kill you,” he pointed out.
“She tried to kill you.” Sighing, she forced a smile. “I’m filing that under the Allowable Pettiness For the Ex-Boyfriend Clause.”
He grinned. “Works for me.”
A wicked smile worked her lips. “It’s in the same category as you making Riley think something happened between us when I came here looking for Faith.”
Angel’s eyebrows shot up. “I didn’t--”
“You so did…but that’s okay. I’d probably have done the same thing…maybe,” she said, smiling. “He’s gone anyway, married to G.I. Jane and enjoying the military life in some third-world jungle.”
“Riley got married?”
“Left me, came back married. Yet another blow to the Summers’ ego,” she said with a sarcastic roll of the eyes. “It couldn’t have been worse. I was working at this horrible place, The Doublemeat Palace--”
“That shady burger joint by the high school?” he asked, surprised.
She cocked her head and narrowed her eyes. “Not. A. Word.”
He suppressed a smile unsuccessfully.
“And that’s enough of this story,” she concluded.
They lie there while a minute ticked by on the clock, then another, fingers still entangled until finally Buffy spoke. “Please don’t feel bad about all the stuff from earlier. I know it was the spell. The arguments…the kiss… I didn’t mind.”
Thinking back to their encounter in his bedroom, he had guessed as much. “You liked fighting with me?” he teased.
She shot him a look of feigned annoyance. “I meant the kiss. It was…nice.”
“It was,” he said softly.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been kissed by someone who cares about me…really cares.”
He knew immediately what she was referring to. We’re going to have to talk about Spike, his eyes told her.
Not now, please, hers pleaded back.
With a reluctant nod of mutual agreement he dropped the subject. “You deserve someone who loves you, Buffy,” he said instead. “I’ve always told you that.”
She nodded absently. “I know. I do, really. I just haven’t found anyone…”
Their eyes held.
His grip on her fingers tightened ever so slightly.
“You will, someday,” he assured her.
I don’t want anyone else, her mind whispered hazily and her eyes involuntarily dropped to his mouth.
“Yeah…maybe.”
“You will…someone who loves you…who sees you for what you are.”
She snorted softly. “The girl who keeps bad hours, frequently comes home bloody or thrashed, who--”
“Is beautiful, even at her worst,” he corrected firmly. “Who has light inside her. Who’s passionate, and deserving and giving. Who risks her life to better the lives of others, who loves unconditionally.”
Emotion filled her eyes. Sweet words…words not even Riley had spoken to her until after they were over. “You have to say that…ex-boyfriend clause…” she fumbled for an excuse.
“I don’t have to say anything. It’s the truth.”
His eyes moved to her mouth, blood surging to his groin when she licked her lips nervously. Half on instinct, half on blind need for her, he leaned in.
“Angel…” she whispered as they slowly came together. “Is this a good…?”
I don’t care. They both thought it as their lips came together, searing hot. With a muffled moan she inched herself closer to his body, his arm coming up and around her waist, pulling her against him.
Everything about it was completely right. Her lips parted and his tongue plunged ahead, dipping into her mouth and tasting her, kissing her soundly until she broke away for breath and then he attacked her neck, laving the bite mark that had called out to him earlier. Nipping at it gently she bucked against him and he almost lost it completely.
The robe was working its way open and she didn’t care, she welcomed it, urging his hands to roam her body as hers were doing so freely to his. When his fingers found the tie and gave it a yank, spilling open the terry cloth and exposing her warmed skin to the air, she sighed. He abandoned her neck for her lips again as his hands found her waist, naked flesh. There was an electric crack when flesh found flesh.
//Always like that, always when we touch//
Hitching his weight he moved her onto her back and hovered over her, one leg thrown over hers and holding her to the bed. It didn’t matter. She was a willing prisoner, would have done just about anything to keep contact with his body in that moment, and she showed him by bringing her arms up and sliding her hot little hands under his shirt, scratching at the skin on his back. He groaned into her, pressing hot kisses from her mouth to her cheek, down her throat and over her jugular. The demon in him raged when he took just a moment to suckle at the tender flesh there and the human in him delighted when she responded by practically rocketing them both off the bed at the primal ministration.
“God, Angel!” she gasped, moving both hands down his back to his waistline, gripping his hips. The robe fell completely open //don’t care// and he growled as he moved down her body, moving aside the flaps of the robe to better access her naked //incredibly hot, sweet// skin. His large hands cupped her breasts, squeezing them tenderly in lovely contrast to the urgent kisses he pressed between them. Rough fingers flickered over nipples, bringing them to perfectly hard points, begging for him to touch them again.
“Beautiful,” he murmured against her skin, rubbing his cheek along her stomach before capturing a nipple between his teeth. She howled and bucked at the feeling of his gently scraping teeth. “So beautiful.” //Mine. Always mine. Forever mine.//
Nothing in this experience was like being with Spike. None of it, not that she’d expected it to be. In their one time together she’d known she’d never have another lover like Angel. Being back in his arms was like being welcomed home after years of a long journey. //belonghereonlyhere// Angel was an experienced, attentive lover, as Spike had been, but the difference here was heart. You couldn’t fake that. Empty was empty, and this…here, now…was rich. Passionate. Sensual. Exhilarating.
Moving her hands up and over his head he held her there, captured underneath his fully clothed body, his groin rubbing deliciously over her own naked center and her eyes opened to find him staring down at her. It was a wonderful stare, like he might devour her fully and still not be full, and it excited her even further.
“I--” he gasped, hesitation in his eyes. //IwantyouIloveyouIneedyou//
“Shh…” she whispered back. //Just another minute, just one more minute// “Just kiss me…please.”
Despite everything warning him not to go down this path, he was unable to resist her. He always had been. It was why he left, it was why he didn’t go back… But she was here now, and beneath him, begging him.
There was only so much a man could take. //Sweet Jesus//
Their eyes never leaving each other he lowered himself down to her lips and took them gently with his own. She sighed then, content, and he allowed himself a moment to just enjoy being with her again. When her legs came up and wrapped themselves around his waist he wasn’t able to ponder even that anymore. All the blood immediately left his brain and darted straight for his groin. He could feel himself harden in an instant and knew she felt it, too, when her hips began to gyrate in a delicious and slow circular movement.
“Angel…” she whispered and gently pulled one of her hands free to tug on his shirt. She wanted flesh. She wanted to be skin on skin with him, even if it was all they could have. //What are we doing, what are we doing?//
He let go of her other hand then and she brought it down, pulling his shirt up and off. Shyly she glanced down as his naked chest, her breath catching at the sight of them together, one on one. //It so right…so completely true// He smiled softly, lowering himself onto her and then sighed at the warmth of her skin compared to the coolness of his own. Rather than chill her, it seemed to only make her more aroused. Buffy’s hands moved over his back, her nails digging into him sensually and raising goose bumps over his skin. He moaned when those hands moved down further to grab his rear and pull him to her, rubbing their aching bodies together.
Slowly she began to turn them over, kissing him gently as she did so, until they rested on their sides and then finally he on his back. The robe was untied, open and exposing her perfect body to his gaze and slowly he brought up a hand, marveling at this woman before him, revealing herself to him, laying it all bare to his eyes. //So trusting, so lovely//
Seeking permission with his eyes, and receiving it from hers, he pulled the robe from around Buffy’s arms until it pooled at her waist. Sitting atop him, nude, eyes blazing, Angel could do little more than gulp. She was looking at him like a meal, a look he knew and recognized, and one that was now making him more than a little nervous. Her gaze roamed his body, her demeanor not of the naïve teenager she’d been when he’d taken her innocence, and not of the eager to please lover she’d been two years later on the Day, but as a woman. Buffy Summers had grown up while they’d been apart.
Buffy bent forward then and pressed her lips to his chest, her tongue snaking out to lick here and there, eliciting delightful little hisses from him as she did so. The reaction made her smile, but not stop.
His own nipples were sharp points by now and she played with one while bathing the other, taking it between her teeth and biting in alternate succession until he was groaning beneath her, his hips arching up ever so slightly to rub at her apex. It made her shiver as the cotton of his trousers moved so sensually over her throbbing core, soaking him and filling his nostrils with the smell of her arousal. When his hands moved up and grasped the firm globes of her bottom, pulling her against him with rough force she cried out, her eyes slamming shut at the onslaught of sensation.
Blindly she fumbled for his belt and zipper, ripping the belt from his waist and sending it flying across the room in desperate need for more.
//Need now…need you now, God…Angel//
//Yes, more…more//
Her tiny fingers worked at the button and zipper on his Dockers, the threads no match for her need and strength. The button went sailing behind the belt as she ripped open his pants and tugged at them, moving them down his legs as best she could. When they would go no further without her removing herself from her current position she stopped and inched her hand down into his shorts. When her hand made contact with his shaft he hissed, arching them both off the bed.
Slowly she pumped him, eyes never leaving his face as his mouth formed a perfect “O” in response to her movements. His fingers clutched at her skin, flexing in time, it seemed, to the motions of her own hand. As her pace increased, so did his gasps. When his face morphed into vampire visage a straight shot of arousal went through her. Angel’s yellow eyes snapped open, capturing hers, and he growled, flipping them over madly.
“Angel…” she gasped as her back hit the mattress and he came down on top of her.
“Mine,” he growled viciously, thrilling her. His mouth came down on hers and her tongue didn’t hesitate to sweep in and over his fangs, nicking herself ever so and letting him taste her. It was erotic, unimagined, to have her in his mouth again, the very life of her draining into his throat. And she was willing.
Her head turned them, ripping their mouths from each other. With both hands on the side of his face she pulled him to her neck, urging him to nurse from her as her hips worked against his freed cock, sending him to new heights. He nuzzled there, at her most tender flesh, teeth running over his mark and shooting fresh waves of desire through her before sense returned. He stilled.
“Angel?” Buffy asked again, gasping for breath. When he didn’t respond, her eyes opened. “Angel?”
Using every ounce of strength he forced his human face to return and rolled off of her, onto his back.
Words weren’t necessary. She knew, as well as he, that this was for the best, despite the screaming dissatisfaction that raged in their bodies. His gaze turned to her, imploring her not to pursue it any further, and reluctantly she complied, moving next to him and curling up in his arms instead.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
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