Dominion: Angelus ending
The second Angelus slipped his
fangs into Buffy’s soft neck it began.
His intent was to turn her.
Her intent was to bind him.
Neither were successful.
“I take you into me, I bind
you to me; Angelus of Aurelius, demoned Mate of
this body, I command you to surrender!” Buffy said as the orgasm crashed
through her; whatever else his motivations, Angelus’ bite set her body afire
like nothing else. But she felt herself growing weak and cursed herself for a
fool; he was taking more than he usually did. She should have known he’d use
this opportunity to turn her.
“The Demon, Angelus, I bind
you into me as part of this body until time ceases and eternity ends. Angel of Aurelius,
souled Mate of this body, not dead nor not of the living, I bind your soul as
part of your body until time ceases and eternity ends.”
Buffy continued to chant as her
orgasms continued to thunder through her, and Angelus continued to move in her,
draining her blood.
It was a race, whoever could
finish fastest won. The power that was her blood spread through him and he
couldn’t believe it; a thousand times better than before but somehow not, and
at the same time all Buffy. He had tasted sips of her blood over the past days
and received a small sampling of that power, but now, with more and more of that
sweet nectar filling his body Angelus thought he was going to combust from the
sheer wonder of it.
His own orgasm exploded from him
as Buffy’s walls clenched repeatedly around his rock hard shaft.
Buffy started her chant for a
third time as they again climaxed together, and both knew that that – that
time – was the one thing neither had.
“The Demon, Angelus, I bind
you into me as part of this body until time ceases and eternity ends. Angel of Aurelius,
souled Mate of this body, not dead nor not of the living, I bind your soul as
part of your body until time ceases and eternity ends…”
She trailed off just as the
final word left her mouth and hoped that the end of the ritual would be
completed – unknowingly – by Angelus. She needed some of his blood to fully
bind them and hoped, in his need to turn her, that he would finish what he
started.
Angelus complied.
But not for the reasons either
of them originally thought.
It suddenly all made sense. The
chant coming from Buffy, the feeling he had of being in his body yet not. The
sounds of Angel as that damnable soul tried to break free of the chains
imprisoning him and the sound of Buffy’s slowing breath. Rage coated him; a
hot stickiness that burned through every fiber of his being.
But Angelus didn’t stop his
task.
Betrayal, she had betrayed him,
the bitch…but in the next instant pride at her own cunningness seeped through
him. Pride that she was indeed his equal and that he would finish what they had
both started because that was the only way.
All this went through his head
in one second as weakness spread through him.
In the next second Angelus
realized that he now had double reason for turning her: He had already taken too
much blood to stop and if he just killed her they both died. He was caught for a
moment, wavering between life and death. Should he turn her, allowing her to go
on without him? It would certainly be the ultimate in irony, Angelus turning the
slayer only to have met his final death at her hands before they had the chance
to revel in that forever.
The final words of the spell left her lips and Buffy
continued to look into Angelus’ eyes, her own vision dimming with the loss of
so much blood. He expected a light to move behind her eyes, something that told
him whatever spell she did, it had worked. Nothing sparkled, nothing glowed, and
nothing felt different. Well, he did feel weaker, but there were heavy magicks
in the air so that might have contributed to it.
Or not turn her, for he was
loath to leave her alone for eternity; what good was forever if he wasn’t with
her? No good, he wanted to see her hunt, wanted to teach her the finer aspects
of vampire sex, wanted to spend that promised eternity with her. He had
promised, after all and he always kept his promises.
But if he stopped now all his
work was for naught. Then they’d both die. And that was simply unacceptable.
Plus, there was a very real
possibility that once she was turned she’d be able to put him back into his
own body. Could two demons exist in the same body? Possibly, if one was put
there through magickal means, means meant to contain and control, not takeover.
And it’d give him a chance to get to know the demon that was going to be Buffy
more intimately than one could possibly conceive. She’d make a beautiful
demon.
If she could do the spell, she could undo it. And that pansy assed Angel would finally be banished forever. Then Angelus could indeed have that eternity with Buffy and the world would tremble at the mere mention of their names.
In the third second, Angelus
removed his fangs from Buffy and sliced his neck with his slightly elongated
nails, allowing his doubly rich blood to flow freely. He could feel the soul,
could hear the almost plea not to turn Buffy that Angel cried, but ignored him.
Angelus, feeling a little stronger now, was determined to have her as his
eternal vampiric Mate; nothing was going to stop him from that.
Quite simply, neither Angel nor
Angelus could let her die.
Whoever was doing these tasks,
soul or demon, knew that without his blood Buffy would die and he’d
lose her forever. And since both had already decided that that was something
neither was willing to contemplate…. In perfect coordination the two halves of
the vampire moved, maneuvering Buffy to his (their?) throat. He groaned aloud in
delight as she instinctually began to drink; the pull of her mouth on his neck
arousing Angelus to a fever pitch.
He allowed her to take as much
blood as he could spare and then just a little more.
She was, after all, going to be
not only his childe, but his Mate as well.
Gently disengaging her from his
neck, Angelus sighed with her as the feeling of loss overcame the both of them.
Kissing her bloodied mouth, with his waning strength and fading consciousness,
some of her powerful blood still on his lips, mixing their blood together in yet
one more way, Angelus completed the last portion of the Mating Ritual just as he
felt consciousness slipping from him.
“Mate to Mate, Blood to Blood,
and Body to Body, joined as One until Eternity be Ours.”
Locking eyes with Buffy, he
noted, almost absently, that she was still awake. Which wasn’t supposed to
happen when turning a human into a vampire; they died and hence were unaware.
Barely so, but awareness had yet to fully slip from her body as she watched him.
Her eyes shone with tears, love, grief and sorrow…and triumph.
“I’m sorry,” Buffy said as
she used the last of her strength to hold him (both of him) close. “I’m
sorry but it was the only way. I love you, I love you…”
Disoriented, weak, yet oddly
calm, he kissed her softly, deep brown eyes still locked with her luminous green
ones. “I know, I know…and whether you believe it or not, I love you, too,
Buffy.”
Still, she stared at him,
watched him, and memorized him though she was certain that she’d forget
nothing of him. Ever. This was going to be the last time she saw him, and while
physically, he was almost exactly the same as Angel, the eyes, his eyes (their
eyes) always gave them away. Ultimately, though, Buffy couldn’t hold onto
consciousness, and slipped into the golden light that surrounded her. Sighing in
contentment, the slayer smiled in her sleep, knowing that no matter whose arms
held her, she was always safe.
They both lost consciousness
then, weak from blood loss and the spell.
And silence reigned in the large
penthouse room for an unending amount of time.
The world, for several long,
long minutes, held its collective breath and time did, indeed, stop as the
warriors, as the lovers, lay entwined in each other’s arms. Blackness
stretched out across the land for those moments, a void that swallowed
everything, good, bad, and all those in-between gray areas…
To suddenly snap back, once more
allowing time to continue its inexorable march forward.
The sun set, a crimson blaze of
glory that made those who witnessed the event marvel at such a miracle. It was
the most beautiful thing any of them had ever seen. Clouds hung low on the
horizon but couldn’t obscure the brilliant light from the glowing orb as it
lay to rest one more day. Little by little the stars made their appearance
known, twinkling in the ever-darkening sky as the moon began her ascent across
the velvet night.
And just as suddenly as it
began, it stopped and people went back to their lives, knowing that something
had happened but not exactly sure what had occurred. Across the globe, for a
collective moment that lasted entirely too short a time, every creature was in
perfect synchronicity as The Slayer wove her spell over her Lover. They knew
what existed and what had occurred and what was most likely going to happen now.
But then everything reverted and
time snapped back into focus and the population of Earth went back to their
individualistic lives.
Buffy and Angelus regained
consciousness.
Gasping for breath as if it had
been hours rather than minutes since she needed to breathe, Buffy’s eyes shot
open. Half a second later, Angelus’ eyes snapped opened as well and looked
into hers. They held that look for long moments as a wealth of emotion passed
through them, each knowing the other in ways never before conceived…no words
were said; there was nothing to say
even if the occupants of the room could think on how to form words at that
moment.
Pain wracked each of their
bodies then; convulsions that caused them to collapse back into each other’s
arms, holding on as if the other was their only anchor in this world. Where had
this agony come from, what was it? It quaked through the both of them as if
binding them even more tightly together through their pain…and their passions.
Right before Buffy collapsed against the vampire before
her, right before she murmured his name, positive that the spell worked, her
vampire lover smirked with the last of his conscious strength.
“I’ll be waiting, lover.”
Angel’s name died on her lips, though the unspoken name
echoed around them nonetheless. Louder than that, however, was the knowledge
that she’d failed. Failed in her duty, failed to secure the warrior needed to
help her win against this seemingly unstoppable evil. Failed to release Angel
for the life he should have always had.
She’d failed not only herself, but Buffy was more or less
used to that.
She failed Angel, too.
~~~~~~~~~~
Opening her eyes, she looked around the grassy knoll, wondering how she went
from Angelus’ elaborately decorated LA penthouse to here.
Buffy’s clear last memory, she was sure, was of her doing
the spell to entrap Angelus within her and release Angel’s soul to inhabit his
body – free from the demon and from any wayward gypsy curse that had trapped
both her loves. She did not remember anything about sun and trees, little
colored flowers dotting the hillside, birds soaring overhead. She didn’t
remember it being so bright anywhere, except the first time she’d encountered
the First Slayer, that was. And she certainly didn’t remember Angel…
Angel?
Looking again at the man walking towards her, barefooted
and dressed in loose cotton pants and no shirt, in the sunlight, Buffy was
stunned. Her mind was nowhere near fast enough to comprehend all that her senses
were telling her and she stood stock-still, wide-eyed and mute.
He was beautiful, oh, goddess, he was gorgeous. It wasn’t
the sun, though that was a part of it. It wasn’t the fact that they were here,
together, but it was such an overwhelming combination of everything; he was
there, she was, in this lovely paradise together, with nothing to distract them,
nothing to pull them apart, nothing to ever separate them again.
Her heart was racing, however, at the thought of it all and
whatever senses still functioned were all clamoring for her to run the few feet
separating she and her lover.
So she did.
Angel’s arms came around her instantly, pulling her close
as her face rose to his, hands already twining through the short hairs at the
base of his neck, pulling him closer and pressing her lips to his. The kiss was
brief, sweet, and full of unfulfilled passion and the love that never died
despite the distance forced upon them.
And the demon caught between them, demanding Buffy’s love
just as the soul did.
“Buffy,” he murmured, and the slayer was sure she’d
never heard a more wonderful sound in her life.
“Angel, what are you dong here?” There was something
nagging at the back of her mind, something that told her this was both more and
less than it should be. “I thought you were in LA.” Even as she said the
words, Buffy knew they were wrong, but she ignored that persistent voice and
smiled at her lover. Who cared what else was going on when they were together?
Angel smiled again, a laugh escaping his lips, and it was
bright and joyful, and Buffy’s heart skipped a beat at the sight and sound.
She was wrong; the most wonderful sound was his laughter, the most beautiful
sight she could ever see his smile as he bestowed that upon her. Smiling back at
him, pressing her body to his, and resting her head against his beating heart,
Buffy sighed. Was there anything more perfect in this world than this very
moment?
“Buffy,” he murmured again, threading his fingers
through her hair, dropping a kiss to the crown on her head. “We haven’t much
time.”
“We never do,” and while her words were sad, wistful,
Buffy refused to let them get her down, pulling her love closer. “But it’s a
beautiful day, Angel, walk with me?”
“It’s going to rain, Buffy, and the maze will be wet
and hard to see; are you sure?” But even as he asked, Angel held out his hand
to her, entwining their fingers tightly together, raising their joined hands to
his lips.
“We can find the center, Angel, I know we can.” She
said as they strolled along the hill. “I love you.”
“And I you, beloved. But things aren’t as they seem.
Just remember that I’m always there, he can’t get rid of me no matter what
he does. I’m staying only because of you, Buffy, because I love you.”
“Staying? You mean you were leaving?” The conversation
was making less and less sense, but Buffy didn’t care because, perversely, it
made perfect sense
and a part of her seemed to know instinctively what to say and do next.
“Because of me? But Angel, this is what you wanted. Better, this is what you deserve!”
“No, actually, it’s not, Buffy.” He pulled her
closer, leaning back against the lone tree they stopped near, his deep brown
eyes searching hers. “Remember, all I ever wanted was you. Because of that,
it’s what he does as well. I never wanted to leave you, my love, I had to for
both our sakes; but in my heart, I never left, in my soul I was always yours.
I’ve only ever loved you and I only ever will. I’m staying because I can’t
leave you.”
“Good,” she murmured, raising her lips to his again,
urging him to lift her against him and winding her legs around his waist as he
did so, allowing him to take his time as he explored her body because, here,
time really had no meaning.
“Good.”
They made love with a sweet longing that urged them faster
in an attempt to outrace the end they both denied but knew was inevitable. Angel
held back, forcing the moment to last and last, tasting Buffy over and over,
memorizing her body, her scent and her undying love. Entering her to a gasp of
his name from her sweet lips, Angel allowed a single tear to fall. It landed on
her lips and Buffy’s tongue lingered over it, tasting it as she would one of
his kisses; the love and hope he had, the memories and the dreams, and the
certainty that, this time, he’d never leave her no matter what their new
circumstances were.
Together they reached their orgasms, moving together as if
this wasn’t one of the few times they actually had together, as if they’d
done this since the beginning of time and would until the end, moving together
in a rhythm so sweet, so pure, so beautiful, that nothing could change it and
nothing could stop it. Not even death.
“Remember the knife, Buffy, it’s the only way to kill
him.” Angel said and with one final lingering kiss, lay next to her as she
slept, curled around him. He rested his head next to her, smiling when Buffy
shifted to lay hers on his chest.
“Love you,” she murmured as she faded into sleep and
away from their dreamland.
“I love you as well, my heart, with all my soul, remember that.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Angelus woke with a roar.
At least that’s what the noise sounded like as it escaped
his lips, pounding through his head in an unending wave of painful noise.
Really, though, it was a gasp of pain that escaped his mouth, but that wasn’t
something that was ever going to be repeated. To anyone. He had a
reputation to protect, after all.
So Angelus woke, disoriented for a moment as he tried to
place why, exactly, he was on the floor. Not that he had any objections, in
principle, but he couldn’t remember how he ended up there. Buffy was curled
tightly against him, his own arms locked tight around her.
With a smirk of triumph and a laugh of sadistic glee,
Angelus remembered.
His beautiful Mate, his darling bitch had tried to kill
him. Well, not physically, but that wasn’t the point. She tried some sort of
spell that was meant to affect him, Angelus knew, meant to somehow take him out
of his body and leave the worthless soul in charge. Too bad it hadn’t worked.
Even better, too bad the soul was no longer…
‘Ha, right, you’d like to think that, wouldn’t
you?’
Angelus stiffened, causing Buffy to stir against him. Quiet
rage seeped into his eyes, causing the brown to flicker from gold to red to the
black of death. ‘What are you still doing there, loser?’ He mentally
growled at the intruder within.
‘Ah, you know, hanging out, seeing the sights,
reveling in your annoyance. No wonder you were a constant pain in my mind all
those years. Really, this is more fun than I thought.’
It wasn’t, he’d much prefer it if was he in sole charge
of the body he had the misfortune to share with a loudly annoying demon, or
failing that, for things to return to what they were before. Sharing space with
Angelus within him, Angel, the dominant, and a tricky and pesky curse to deal
with, was better than being the loudly annoying background buddy.
Forcing himself to relax, his hands automatically running
over Buffy’s back to soothe her when she stirred again, Angelus sneered at
his…companion, ‘You always did like to watch, and you never did learn
when you outstayed your welcome; I’m surprised you lasted this long.’
Angel couldn’t help himself. He laughed. There was
nothing remotely funny about this situation, nothing, that he could see at the
moment, redeeming about it, but he laughed anyway. Besides, it was a good way to
aggravate Angelus and that was always fun.
Sobering, and deciding that he needed more information
about the situation before anything, Angel took a moment to acknowledge
Angelus’ protective and possessive hold on Buffy before settling back to watch
and listen. Angelus had one thing right, watching was one of Angel’s favorite
pastimes; it was the best way to understand your enemy, by watching how he
interacted with those around him. Understanding one’s nature, their habits,
their desires, needs, wants, and their lives in general and specific was
something that fascinated him because they led such different lives than he did.
Some of those strangers he was envious of, some he pitied,
some he followed because they reminded him of things he no longer had, could
never have again. But they all served to fill time, something he desperately
needed before meeting Buffy and after leaving her. They all told him the same
thing. He’d been a fool to leave the only good thing to ever come into his
life.
But that wasn’t something to think of at the moment.
There were other things that needed his attention.
Angel wasn’t sure what went wrong, but it looked like the
spell Buffy did somehow had. From the words that he only partly remembered, it
sounded as if she was trying to somehow suck Angelus out of his body and trap
the demon’s essence within hers. For that alone, he felt an almost
uncontrollable anger sweep through him, but what was worse, was that she failed.
Angelus wasn’t about to let that one go; not the fact
that she betrayed him, tried to rip him from the body he held, and hand it over
to Angel. Or the fact that she whispered her love of him, the demon. But worse
by far, was the fact that Angelus turned her.
Unless something stopped the turning, unless whatever
Slayer powers running through Buffy in some way counteracted Angelus’ blood,
his beloved was going to wake a demon.
~~~~~~~~~~
Where…?
Buffy sat on the floor, wondering how she had gotten onto
the plushly carpeted surface. Had they fallen off the bed while she had
preformed the spell and Angelus had drained her? Most likely, but Buffy had no
memory of that. As a matter of fact, all her memories were confused,
disoriented, scattered too far for her to catch any one of them.
Sunlight, safety, warmth and love, these things she
remembered clearly but Buffy wasn’t sure if they superimposed over the
situation now, or what. It was all too confusing.
Dimly she became aware of someone calling her name, but
couldn’t pinpoint the place from where the sound was coming. She knew it was
her name, of course, she did. And she knew the voice.
“Buffy? Buffy!” Angelus’ voice, sharp with
anxiousness, penetrated her fogged mind and Buffy raised her confused but oddly
calm eyes to meet his hard, worried ones. His large, cool hands clasped on her
shaking shoulders, soothing her as she tried to process all that had happened.
What had
happened?
“Angel?” She whispered, remembering not her actions of
before, but her dream. Her body trembled and she was helpless to stop it, not
understanding what caused those shakes.
“Sorry, lover,” Angelus drawled, his hands convulsing
on her shoulders at the name of the only man who he ever considered competition.
“You’re little spell didn’t work.”
Her eyes bore into his, searching and finding that truth.
Could she see, barely, Angel’s soul behind the hardness that was Angelus?
Maybe, or maybe it was all just wishful thinking, and Angel was released,
finally, into the peaceful aether he
so rightly deserved. Either way, she silently apologized to her love for her
failure. How had that gone wrong, what had she done wrong?
But it was too late now and there was no one to ask. Plus,
Buffy was desperate. The First was still in Sunnydale and she needed to get back
there to fight It. Without Angel, without the prophesied souled vampire to help
her win, but she was going back to fight.
She had to, it was who she was, and it was what she was.
But first, she needed to get away from Angelus.
Angelus returned Buffy’s stare, looking for signs that one of them had been successful in their mission. But she looked the same to him, beautiful, deadly…warm and soulful.
She had risen almost immediately, which was more than a
little unusual and it seemed as if she still retained her warmth…and that
wasn’t standard, either…and quite possibly her soul if her reactions to the
last few minutes were any indications.
She wasn’t acting any different, confused, yes, but she
didn’t seem…well, evil. Her eyes looked the same as she gazed back at
him…bright and caring and full of warmth and love.
With maybe, a hint of brown-gold but that wasn’t really
registering at the moment for Angelus as the demon wondered how he
had failed in turning her.
A vampire-slayer-vampire with a soul? That taunting voice
that sounded suspiciously like Angel commented, ‘Man, they’re giving those souls out for free, aren’t they?’
Angelus wished that voice would shut the fuck up; was this what Angel felt like
those hundred years he, Angelus, had taunted the soul?
“What,” Angelus asked, suspicious as she shook in his
arms, “Did you do to yourself, lover? I turned you, yet you retain your soul,
a fact which I happen to know is impossible.”
“It’s the slayer spell,” she said as her shakes
continued unabated. “We bound all the previous slayers into me, from the first
to the one right before me; I am THE SLAYER now. Immortal, powerful, I am what
every slayer has always wanted to become since the First died and passed on her
mantel.”
Buffy became more aware of her surroundings as she
continued. “I became what I was always meant to become, The Slayer.”
“Because I was remade by the Turok-Han,” he said in
sudden understanding, still not liking this one damn bit. “Because I was
essentially all the vampires ever, from the first to now, because I was
stronger, faster, more…you had to become all the slayers ever. To fight me.”
Again, Buffy nodded at Angelus, noting his angry glare and
the penthouse surroundings.
“You should have told me, Buffy, EXACTLY what you did to
yourself,” Angelus hissed and he shook her slightly. “Immortality? Really,
baby, if you wanted to live forever all you had to do was ask, I’d have been
more than happy to take care of that little problem for you. On a permanent and
total basis.”
Buffy didn’t want to think on that, especially now that
she remembered that Angelus had tried
to turn her. She also felt the incredible need to jump Angelus’ bones, and
screw him once more. Her blood called to him and her body craved his with an
intensity she was unaware any being could ever feel.
Was this part of the blood tie?
Because Angelus had tried to turn her, because they had
exchanged blood, they were now bound inexorably together? Hadn’t he uttered
words, something about Mates…? Was there something more to whatever those
words were than Buffy realized? She wanted to know what they were, wished she
could remember, it suddenly seemed very important.
Her body shaking for another reason now as arousal licked
through her Buffy continued, “I needed you to help me save the world.” She
didn’t say it but they both heard the ‘again’ part of her announcement.
That’s what her plan was, Buffy remembered now. “I need
you to help me fight the First Evil and Its Blood Harvest. Whatever that is.
It’s beginning soon, very soon and I needed the souled vampire to help. Some
prophecy or something.” She couldn’t remember, at the moment, but knew it
was important. What had Giles said?
“But it didn’t work,” she whispered, and felt tears
well in her eyes. She’d never again see Angel, never have the chance to tell
him she loved him, never have the chance to see him free in his own body, able
to do as he pleased, able to make love to one another, able to have all the
Perfect Happiness he could stand.
He looked deeper into her eyes, brushing a thumb over her
cheekbones but said nothing. Angelus wasn’t sure what to say, and Angel was
suspiciously silent as well.
He pulled her to him then, kissing her with all the passion
he had always carried for her. She responded and Angelus couldn’t help the
pleased growl that escaped him. But just as he was about to move from the floor
to the bed, Buffy stiffened and pulled back.
“I can’t,” she whispered, “I have to save them; I
have to fight the First.”
“No, lover,” Angelus soothed with more kisses to her
neck, “You don’t. Shh, Buffy,” his soft voice again floated over her and
Buffy just wasn’t strong enough to fight it. To stop him when he again kissed
her.
She already knew the fine line, blurred as it was,
separating the soul and the demon, and her feelings for the two. Buffy knew that
she loved them both, but this…this was just too hard. Angel was still trapped
in Angelus, and Angelus did not intend to help her fight the First to stave off
this latest apocalypse which he had a rather large helping hand in. But she
loved him and she needed him, needed to feel his cool arms around her and to
look into his eyes, and see his beautiful soul shining back at her.
The swirling emotions between them collided, and suddenly
Buffy found herself pinned under Angelus, his mouth attacking hers as he thrust
home into her wet and welcoming body. Thoughts slipped away as her body sighed
in acceptance of its Mate and her blood pumped faster at being so close, so damn
close…
Angelus’ face shifted and his fangs plunged into her soft
neck, sipping at the blood that was as much a part of him as it was her, now.
The urge was almost overwhelming, and Buffy didn’t even try to ignore it. It
seemed so natural, so right. Her teeth elongated though her face did not shift
into that of a vampire; at the same moment Angelus sank his fangs into the
softness of her neck, reopening the scar there once more, Buffy bit into his
neck, reopening the closing scar there.
Yes! Her body screamed, convulsing around Angelus as her
orgasm shuddered through her. They drank for long seconds until Angelus pulled
away, his handsome human face to the fore, staring at Buffy with lust, need, and
triumph.
She might not have truly changed, but she needed him,
needed his blood, needed to taste the elixir that was Sire blood and that, that
was worth it. Because it bound her to him in just one more way, an inexorable
and permanent way. Angelus knew she wasn’t a vampire, not in the classical
sense that at least. Her heart still beat, her blood still raced through her
veins, her skin still scalded him with its warmth and her soul shone brightly
back at him from her eyes.
Running his hands through her hair, cupping her face
Angelus gathered himself from the incredibly intense orgasm that even now filled
his body and said aloud, “The slayers pushed the demon out, didn’t they?”
At her nod, he continued, “But you need my blood?”
“I…” Buffy trailed off, not sure of the answer. It
was obvious that yes she did, as she had just tasted some. But the thought
repulsed her, knowing that she needed blood like some vampire; it was okay for
Angel (Angelus) because that was what he was, but not for her. It was a
frightening theme on her worst nightmare.
“It’s the strength of the slayer,” Angelus stated at
the look of pure panic on her beautiful face. He gathered her closer to his
body, allowing her to seek the safety and comfort she so desperately craved in
his cool embrace. “Because you have all the Slayers inside you, their
strength, power, abilities, they were able to overcome the demon.”
And damn that, she
would have loved it…had the damn turning actually worked. Buffy would have
made a glorious vampiress, a truly magnificent Mate.
“So…so this means that I’ll, that I need…blood to
survive?” Her voice was small, scared.
Angelus gathered her close to his hard chest, running his
hands calmingly over her back, not in arousal, but because she needed it, needed
him. He whispered soft words to her; words Buffy didn’t understand, but knew
were endearments, nonetheless. Buffy calmed, listening to demon as he offered
words of reassurance; to the soul within as he added his own. How Buffy could
hear Angel, too, neither knew, but that didn’t stop the soul from soothing his
love.
“They recognized you,” Buffy said suddenly, yawning,
not pulling back from Angelus’ arms, but shifting closer. The spell had
exhausted her, taking everything she had and then some with Angelus’ attempt
to turn her. “The power within me pushed the demon out because it was a
threat, to them and to me. But because there is a bond between us, the slayers
recognized it.”
Angelus looked down at her, eyes closed, face tranquil on
the verge of sleep she so desperately needed; she looked so peaceful, so relaxed
that he didn’t want to disturb her. “They recognized it enough,” he
continued when she trailed off, “That they didn’t feel threatened, the
consequences of this connection between us weren’t sufficient to endanger them
or your immortality.”
“Hmm, maybe, but I think it’s something more then
that,” Buffy mumbled, her body shutting down, craving sleep.
“Sleep, baby,” Angelus said as he, too, let his tired
body relax in much needed rest. “And when you wake, the world will be ours.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Contentment. Peace. At ease with her surroundings and herself. Buffy had rarely
felt so safe and secure. A happy purring came from all around her, making the
slayer smile. Some part of her knew that she should wake up, that there were
things to do and that they needed to be done and done now. However, Buffy just
couldn’t bring herself to listen to that part of her.
So, she drifted along that dreamy line, half awake but
mostly asleep and blanked her mind, instead concentrating on the feelings that
flowed in and around her.
Opening her eyes, finally, Buffy looked down at her
sleeping vampire, her hand moving to caress the planes of his face for a brief
moment. “I do love you, sleep my darling,” she whispered before leaving
their bed and quickly dressing. She wanted to shower, but knew she didn’t have
time for that. No, she had too many things to do first to worry about her
hygiene.
Lifting her duffle bag, she left the room and didn’t look
back.
~~~~~~~~~~
“Ppst, it’s time, my pet.”
Spike looked up through still slightly blurry eyes at his
sire and lover. The past few days had been like old times between he and Dru,
shagging, hunting, everything they had ever enjoyed together they indulged in
once more. She hadn’t mentioned anything more about Buffy or Angelus and he
hadn’t asked.
He had healed over the days since Dru’s arrival but still
wasn’t up to his full strength. As for his anger, at both Buffy for her
desertion, and Angelus for his return, it was still there, simmering beneath the
surface waiting for the right moment.
“Time?” He asked, suddenly curious, “Time for what,
ducks?”
“The endgame, of course,” she said smiling at him,
“What else?”
“What do you know, Dru?”
“The time has come,” she continued, with a dreamy smile
on her face, her eyes sharp on his, “And the sides chosen; inside, outside, my
side, your side. It can’t be turned back and it can’t be stopped.”
Spike didn’t understand beyond the fact that it had
something to do with the First and Its plans, but he was willing to go with
Drusilla’s flow, sure he’d understand in time.
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