Walk with me
Open your sensitive mouth
And talk to me
Hold out your delicate hands
And feel me
Couldn’t make any plans
To conceal me
Open your sensitive mouth
Hold out your delicate hands
With such a sensitive mouth
I’m easy to see through
When I come up
When I rush
I rush for you
Cry for you
Seen the tears
Roll down from my eyes for you
Heard my truth
Distorting to lies for you
Watched my love
Becoming a prize for you
Seen the truth in my eyes
Heard my truth turn to lies
Seen the tears in my eyes
I’m not proud of what I do
When I come up
When I rush
I rush for you
I come up to meet you
Out there somewhere
When I rush to greet you
My soul is bared
Gave more for you
Dropped my crutches
And crawled on the floor for you
Went looking behind every door for you
And because of the things
That I saw for you
I spiritually grew
When I come up
When I rush
I rush for you
“Rush” by Depeche Mode
from their album Songs of Faith and Devotion
“Mom!” Buffy started from her seat on the couch.
Dragging a suitcase behind her, Joyce Summers stopped in the living room and brightly smiled at her daughter. “Hi honey! I was able to finish the Krakow acquisition a day early, so here I am. Miss me?”
Getting up from her spot, Buffy quickly rushed her mother with a big hug. “You know I missed you!”
Startled from the strength of her hug, Joyce squeaked “Hey! I never get this kind of reception at home, maybe I should go away more often, huh?”
Closing her eyes tightly Buffy felt such a rush of emotion for her mother. She had never really appreciated how safe this one person could make her feel. Even now.
Especially now.
As long as her mother was with her, the darkness could never touch her.
Tightly squeezing her slight daughter Joyce pulled back and proposed “Let’s go out for dinner tonight! What do you say?”
Buffy felt all the shadows being chased away by her mother’s enthusiasm. “Sure Mom. Have anything in mind?”
With one arm around her daughter Joyce walked both of them into the kitchen. “I know this fabulous restaurant that just opened up a couple of weeks ago. I think it’s Italian, I’m not sure, but the architecture is simply fabulous.” Letting go of Buffy, she walked over to the refrigerator and poked her head in. “I’ll tell you what---bagged nuts just don’t go a long way. I’m starving! What about you?”
Although she really hadn’t had much of an appetite Buffy smiled and fibbed. “Yeah, I’m a little hungry.”
“Good. I’m in the mood for some really thick meat and cheese sandwiches, how about you?”
“Sure.” Buffy sat down at the kitchen table as her mother chattered away. Resting her chin on her hands, she watched as her mother flitted from one of the kitchen to the other, occasionally looking over her shoulder as she made a remark.
Seeing her mother do something Buffy had seen countless times before reinforced her shaky sense of security. Everything seemed so normal, so safe, in this kitchen. So PREDICTABLE. Unlike the past few days...
Abruptly stopping in the middle of making a three-meat sandwich, Joyce asked “Buffy?”
“Hmm?”
Walking over to the kitchen window, her mother peered at the glass and touched it with one finger. The windows! Her mom would notice the new windows! Okay how do we explain this one to her? Turning back to Buffy she said with surprise “You washed the windows!”
Swallowing slightly Buffy simply repeated “Washed them?”
Never noticing the hesitancy in her daughter’s question, she asked “Did you do all of them?” Not even waiting for her daughter to answer, Joyce walked into the living room to look at those windows.
Trailing behind her, Buffy waited for the realization to dawn on her mother. It never did. “I can’t believe you did this! Honey, that was so sweet of you!” Letting the lace curtain fall back in place she exclaimed “They look as good as new.”
Walking back towards Buffy, Joyce gave her a huge hug and then walked back into the kitchen with a bounce to her step. Over her shoulder she said “I never knew how nice our windows looked. They look like they cost a fortune, but then again, a clean window does that!”
Gamely Buffy said “You found me out. I did it---I wanted to do something nice for you.”
Buffy had reached her street when she saw two white trucks and a blue van parked in her driveway. Staring at the scene in confusion, she made her way quickly to the house. She saw workmen busily bustling around, some were on the porch, others were coming from around the back of her house. Before she could ask what was going on, a portly older man walked across the lawn towards her. “Miss Summers?”
How’d he know my name? What are they doing here? “Yes? Uh, look, what are you---”
Shoving a pink invoice in her face the stranger said “This is for you. We’ve replaced all the windows and even cleaned all the debris inside and out.”
“You replaced the windows? Wait! You were in my house?” Buffy sharply asked in disbelief.
Affronted the older man snorted. “Of course we were in the house. How else were we supposed to fit the windows?” His thick, gray-streaked brows drew together in a frown. “I run an honest company here Miss. Everyone in this crew, including myself, is bonded. I have no thieves working for me. So everything that was in your house when we got here IS in there now.”
Turning to look behind him, the man yelled in a booming voice “Pack it up folks! We’re done here!” Immediately the blue-uniformed men streamed towards the trucks, carrying their supplies with them. Looking back at Buffy he dug into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. “These are yours. They’re the copy of your house keys. If you have any problems with the windows, call the number on the invoice and we’ll send someone over within the hour.”
With that the man turned away and strode over to the van. “Wait!” Clutching the piece of paper in her hand Buffy reached the man. “How much do I owe you?” Never mind the fact that she had no money and no way to pay, it just seemed like the thing to say.
Rearing back in surprise the man asked “Owe me? Why Miss the bill has already been paid in full!”
Slanting a shocked look at him, Buffy asked “It has?”
“Why yes, by a Mr. Gryphon. He had us over here by 8:00 this morning. I had to call every man I had, plus some, to fill this order. Normally we wouldn’t have come out with such short notice but,” a pleased twinkle sparkled in his eye as he said “He paid triple the rate, so we didn’t mind so much.”
As if he said more than he should, the man brusquely changed the subject and warned “I wouldn’t try to open the windows just yet. You don’t want to take the chance that they might come loose. Now they SHOULDN’T, but to be safe wait about 48 hours.”
Not having anything else to say Buffy said “Umm, okay.”
“By the way, it says it on the invoice but I just wanted to tell you a little something about these windows. You can’t chip, scratch, or break ‘em. They’re even earthquake proof. They keep the u.v rays from coming through but still let the light in. It’s supposed to be safer for your skin that way. You know---with all the skin cancer going around. We have some that, with the flick of a button, go a really thick white color---but you don’t have those. Still these windows here are the best money can buy. They come from---”
“France.” Buffy absently stated. Angelus had kept his word again. He replaced all the windows he had broken in his rage. But even then, he twisted the situation to suit his purposes. Now he would be completely safe in her home. He placed his own comfort level into her home. But how the hell had he gotten a copy of her house keys?
“That’s right! They come from France. Expensive too, but they’re worth it. Nothing like I’ve ever seen. Well, have a good afternoon Miss.”
“You too.”
Stopping at the other side of the van, the man looked at Buffy, and with the sure ease that parents to speak to children (regardless of whose children they are) said “And Miss? You should wear something other than that coat! It’s just not decent. What would your mama say if she saw you in that?”
Buffy immediately felt a ruby flush stain her face. For a minute she had forgotten what she was wearing. Or rather, what she was not wearing. Damn that Angelus! Straightening her spine she smoothly, despite her blushes, said “I don’t see anything wrong with it. I’m completely covered aren’t I?”
“Well yes, but---”
Not giving the man time to say anything else she cut in with “What I think is indecent is an old man thinking dirty thoughts about what’s under my coat...”
With that Buffy regally walked towards her house, leaving the man slack-jawed. Were those words really coming from her mouth? Did she sound that confident and in control? Obviously she did because she could hear him mumble under his breath “Damn uppity kid! I never meant anything like that!” Put him in his place! Maybe next time he won't so free with his opinion. Damn that felt good! Having enhanced hearing wasn’t such a bad thing either.
“Well I think that is so sweet of you honey! You’ve really made my day. Imagine that: my teenage daughter actually did housework!”
“Hey! I do housework---”
Her mother arched a brow in blatant disbelief.
“Well...I DO...sometimes...” Abruptly changing the subject Buffy said “I’m starving! Are they almost done?”
Smiling Joyce shook her head and said “Almost, just need to get one more thing.” Layering another slice of cheese, she stepped back and waved her hands with a flourish and said “Done!”
Mother and daughter talked and ate in their bright and sunny kitchen. For an hour Buffy forgot about her troubles and happily sat there in a place were nothing ever changed.
Only one incident marred this belief.
At one point during their meal Joyce leaned back and stated “It’s such a nice day outside today. I’m going to go open a window and let some of this early spring in.” Jumping up Buffy yelled “No!” Bringing her voice down, she smiled at her startled mother and said “I mean, let me do it for you Mom.”
Walking towards the window Buffy threw over her shoulder “Just stay in your chair and let me take care of it.” Doesn’t that sound familiar? I’ll take care of it. Hoping that the window wouldn’t mind being disturbed during the 48 hour period, she undid the latch and gently eased it open without a problem.
It was a reminder that things DID change and would continue so, no matter how she might wish otherwise.
Now laying on the bed in her room, Buffy wanted to rest for a few minutes before getting ready for dinner. They would be leaving for the restaurant in an hour and a half which meant Buffy had to soon get up to take a shower. But for right now, she just wanted to lay her head down and rest.
Enjoy the quietness of the day.
Enjoy the peace of a Sunday afternoon.
Enjoy the scent of Angelus on her sheets...
Heaving an impatient sigh, Buffy punched her pillow and turned on her side. Last night had been horrible---an interminable wait between dusk and dawn. She told herself she was glad he hadn’t showed. She told herself that she couldn’t spend all of her time sleeping with him (or not sleeping as it would be). She told herself that it would be a perfect time to catch up on some reading, on some homework.
Her body told her something entirely different.
Throughout the night she had alternated between pacing and forcing herself to lay still. Every nighttime noise and every shift in the house was a whisper of promised pleasure. Wherever she was, her eyes would continually dart to the windows, hoping he was on the other side.
He never was.
To lay on this bed last night had been pure torture. Memory after memory flashed and imprinted itself into her mind. It had been an agonizing wait. An empty wait.
He never showed.
Swinging her feet off the bed, Buffy dragged herself over to the closet and limply looked through each item. Finally selecting a lilac, sleeveless dress with ivory embroidery she laid it on her bed and rifled through her dresser looking for undergarments. Finding a bra and a pair of panties in matching ivory, Buffy threw those on the bed too.
She doubted she would see him tonight. Perhaps it WAS going to be an occasional arrangement. Frowning into her mirror she thought of what a contrary person she was. She was supposed to find it gross being with a demon. Gross being with a demon Buffy? Understatement by much?
It was supposed to be a noble act with her as the heroine giving into the evil king to save the village, the village being her friends, and in the end she was supposed to stand triumphant---untouched by it all.
At least that’s the way it was supposed to be.
Instead, she was hopelessly attracted to the evil king. She missed the dark magic that he made her feel. She missed his sinful royal chamber, she missed being his chattel. I miss being his chattel? How do I know what that even means? Sticking out her tongue at her reflection she was glad to see the mournful image dissolve, leaving an impish twin behind.
Okay, so maybe I’m not the perfect heroine. And maybe Angelus is way worse than any evil king can be, And maybe I’m crazy, but can’t I still come out on top? Somehow? I want him so damned much, but maybe I’m not alone. Maybe he wants me as much...
Going into her bathroom Buffy quickly began her shower. Standing under the warm water she softly sighed with pleasure. Her nipples tightened in response and her body began to hum. The water felt so deliciously warm, its’ caress touching her all over. No matter how much he’s hated me, and still hates me, he can’t stay away for long...
Laying on the bottom of the tub, she opened her mouth and let the droplets flow down her throat. Hesitantly laying her hand on her stomach, Buffy let her memories drench her. She never knew sex could feel so good. So consuming. Closing her eyes, she saw the hard visage of Angelus. His eyes were so powerful in their magic. They raked her with their burning coals, leaving her as ash.
But memory was a pale substitute for reality. The reality of feeling his cold body pressed tightly against her own. The reality of being devoured by his passion. The reality of being his.
Shifting her legs, Buffy brought one up and held it in the air. In a flash she saw Angelus holding it up like this and running his lips and tongue along her skin. It was then that she discovered how sensitive the flesh behind her knee was. Gently touching the area Buffy saw Angelus’ mouth pressed against her, maddeningly sucking the spot as she gasped his name.
Bringing down her leg, Buffy let her hand drift a little further. Her entire body felt so sensitive just by memory. He had touched her so thoroughly last night. Especially down THERE. Would it feel as good if she did it? As her fingertips lightly grazed the soaked curls, she heard her mother call “Buffy?”
Mom! She can’t catch me like this! Scrambling up from the tub she called out a little breathless “Yeah?” and hoped her mother had no idea of what she had been in the middle of doing.
From the other side of the shower curtain her mother chided “You’ve been in here forever! Over thirty minutes. What’s taking you so long?”
“Umm...I’m almost done.”
“Good. You don’t have that much more time Buffy. I know how long it takes you to get ready. I’ve already made the reservations, so be ready by 6:30, okay?”
“Uhh, okay. Sure thing.” Hearing her mother leave the bathroom, Buffy let out a pent-up breath. It had only felt like a few minutes, so lost was she in her carnal thoughts. Standing under the spray she immediately noticed that the water had gotten considerably colder. Shivering Buffy wondered how she could have gotten so lost that she didn’t feel the water. In record time she washed her hair, shaved her legs and underarms, and washed her body.
Wrapping herself in a towel, she stepped out of the tub and began blow drying her hair. Running the brush through the wet strands, an image of Angelus combing her hair made Buffy falter. He could be so gentle when he wanted to. He can also be an ass too. Don’t forget about how he gets when you go down on him.
Why did he act like that?
Maybe it’s just a humiliation thing with him. Your humiliation Buffy. It wouldn’t be surprising if that was exactly what Angelus was about and unfortunately she played right into it. Maybe it’s something else though. Maybe it has something to do with Lady Fiona. Frowning Buffy felt the sting of the green-eyed monster. To be jealous of a woman long dead was pretty pathetic, but it didn’t change the fact that she was jealous.
Really jealous.
This woman had so much power over Angel and Angelus. She completely destroyed and shaped the short life of a spoiled Lord Angel and the eternal life of a demon prince named Angelus. In a way Buffy wished he hadn’t told her about this woman that was to marry her Angel. Although, if things hadn’t happened the way they did---she would have never met Angel.
In a sad twist of fate she had both Lady Fiona and Angelus to thank for the precious time she had shared with him.
Sometimes knowledge could be a heavy burden to carry. As she stood there drying her hair, Buffy thought about the multitude of women that had been recorded as Angelus’ victims. There had been so many, probably much more than even the Watchers knew.
His hands carried the blood of many, yet she allowed those same hands to touch her. She craved for those same hands to feel her. What was this sickness that could make her look past his horrible deeds? Beyond the sport of seduction and drainage, Angelus had taken torture to a new level among his kind, so much so that even the Watchers had recorded it as:
And yet when she was with him, she forgot. She forgot it all. It seemed unreal to her even now. It didn’t seem possible that the same man who had pinned up her hair so carefully could be the same written man. EVEN though she had read the old, faded texts, had read name after name after name, had even seen sketches of victim after victim...
Swallowing thickly, Buffy watched her face go pale. Seeing things in this light made her feel sick. Thinking of him, of Angelus, like this made her feel disgusted at them both. You made your choice Buffy, you have to live with it. If you play your cards right, you might just walk out of this intact. You’re both killers, he just likes it while you don’t.
I don’t? I don’t enjoy the fight, the hunt, the thrill of taking the life of a vampire every night? I don’t enjoy tallying up each kill, disappointed when one night’s count is lower than the one before?
Unplugging the hair dryer she automatically wrapped the cord around it before storing it under the sink. Pulling out a caddie of make-up, she began applying a light layer of eye shadow. Buffy had to admit to herself that she was scared. Thinking of the man-demon she had gotten involved with she had to admit her terror. Questioning who she believed herself to be scared the shit out of her.
How would she come out of this unscathed?
He couldn’t kill her, no matter what he said she believed that he could not kill her. So she wasn’t likely to end up just like the ones before her, but...but what? Sharpening her liner pencil, she carefully drew a light line across her lid. Smudging it with a sponge-tip brush she wondered about his motives. Why did he want to fuck her so badly? It had to be more than lust, but what?
What if it isn’t more than lust? Angel loved me so completely, isn’t it possible that Angelus feels the after-effects of that? But then again, maybe it is just lust and nothing else more. Or maybe he still feels the love and he can’t help himself.
She hoped so, but not only because it made her feel slightly giddy. She hoped he felt as helpless as she did about him.
Uncapping her mascara bottle Buffy applied a layer to her eyelashes. Running a small brush to separate each lash, she pondered on the possibility of Angelus and love. Not in the girlie Oooh, I wonder if I can make a demon fall in love with me way, but in the If this demon feels something close to love, how far will he let it go before lashing out at me or others way.
He already had set things in motion to barbecue her friends, so there was no doubt that he would lash out if things did not go his way. But he hasn’t killed anybody Buffy. If he did, you’d know about it. He’s different than he was before. The only one he lashes out at is you. You have to keep it that way.
Brushing on a translucent layer of blush she said out loud “Keep his focus on you. You can handle anything he dishes out. You’ll control him this way. Just keep it on you.”
Saving her lipstick for after she was dressed, Buffy walked into her room. Glancing out her brand-new window she saw the deep red-orange light of the setting sun. It would be dark soon. Where would Angelus be tonight?
Slipping on her underclothes Buffy opened up a bottle of lotion from her dresser and generously lathered her body. Rubbing in the fragrant substance into her arms, she took a deep breath. She honestly didn’t know how she would react the next she saw him, but hopefully it would be a sight better than last time.
A bond between the two of them seemed impossible. A Slayer and A Vampire. It was a paradox. A trick of the cosmos. Turning back to her bed, Buffy took her dress off the hanger and unzipped the back of it. Sliding it over her head she twisted her arm behind her and re-zipped it. Smoothing the front of her dress she gave herself a critical look in the mirror.
She looked good.
The passage of time between today and yesterday had done nothing to fade the new vitality of her form. She looked utterly beautiful and it frightened her. Not in a quivering, helpless way but in an unsettling way. How long would it be before this charade became uncovered? Someone, most likely Giles, was bound to notice the changes and not just the physical one.
Her hearing and sight were so incredibly clear now, but it seemed to come in and out. At times she saw everything in such minute detail that she simply had to close her eyes and shut it all out. At times she could even hear the smallest whisper from next door. Remembering last night, Buffy’s ears began to burn. The neighbors next door had been pretty intimate and she had heard things that she would rather not have known about them.
But then she hadn’t heard her mother come into the room. She should have been able to hear her normally but she hadn’t heard her at all. Her body had changed and Buffy still didn't really know how. She had thought about going by Giles' but then she didn't know how she would explain it. She couldn't tell part of it without ALL of it coming out.
None of it could come out.
So for now, she was on her own.
Glancing at the clock she saw that she only had a few minutes left. Rushing back into the bathroom she slid a soft pink shade of lipstick across her lips. Brushing a strand of hair off her face Buffy caught sight of a flash of silver. Angel’s ring. Lowering her hand she stared at the simple symbol of their love.
A simple symbol for a love that was far from simple.
Feeling a heavy cloak of sadness descend over her, Buffy made the hard decision of taking the ring off. She had no right to wear it anymore. She couldn’t wear it while being with Angelus. Not because he cared (in fact she was surprised he had yet to say anything about it) but because it wasn’t right. She should have taken it off the night that she let Angelus into her.
“Buffy!” Joyce’s voice called out from downstairs. Rushing back into her bedroom she opened up a music box and placed her treasure onto the faded blue velvet. “Buffy we have to go!” Yelling “I’m coming!” she hurriedly looked at her nails and toes. Shiny pink cuticles greeted her but she wasn’t satisfied. Walking back to her dresser, Buffy looked for a bottle of nail polish to match her dress. She picked several bottles up while murmuring “Where are you? No, not that one. I need...yes! There it is!”
Sitting on a chair she propped one foot up and quickly painted the nails before propping the other one up. Silently thanking the makers of 60-second polish, she rapidly painted the nails of both hands before gingerly twisting the bottle closed. Waving her hands in the air to speed the drying process she opened up her closet and found the shoes that went specifically with her dress.
Carefully undoing the buckle, Buffy slid her feet into the strappy heels. Checking to make sure that her polish did not get smudged, she redid the buckle and gave a studied look at the nails of her hands. Satisfied with the results she gave one last look in the mirror and was on her way down the stairs when she heard yet another “Buffy!”
Her mother was fiddling with her purse as she looked up. “There you are. You look great. Have you done something new with your makeup?” Not giving her daughter time to answer she sweetly asked “Ready?”
Giving a wry grin Buffy answered, as if her mother hadn’t been bellowing at her for the last five minutes, “Ready if you are.”
The ride to the restaurant had been pleasant between the two of them. Pulling up at the front of a whitewashed, many column building, Buffy gave a low whistle. “Valet parking. Here in Sunnydale. Wow.”
Grinning her mother said “I know, isn’t it fun? Not that I need valet parking, but you know?”
Grinning in return Buffy replied “I know.” Stepping out of the car she looked up at the sign. It was a small one---gold lettering against a hunter green background. The three young men milling about the front wore the usual gear for valet parkers: black tie, white shirt, red jacket. This restaurant must be trying to cater to Sunnydale’s little corp of elite. As far as she knew, it was the only place with valet parking.
Walking along side her mother they were ushered into the dimly lit establishment. Stopping by the universal post and being judged by the universal snooty maitre d’snobville, Joyce informed the elder man “Table for two for Summers.” Boredly running his finger down the list, he considerably brightened by what he saw there. Effusively he beckoned them with “Please, please right this way.”
As they wove their way by table after table, Buffy and her mother exchanged bemused looks while following the suited man. He led them up a small flight of stairs and finally stopped in front of a large table set for two. This group of tables were much larger than the ones they passed by. Eagerly seating them both, the maitre d’suck-up stressed “If there is anything not to your liking please let your server know. If you don’t see something you would like to eat, we will have our chefs prepare it for you. Anything you desire, just request and it will be given.”
Graciously Joyce thanked him and assured him that she was confident that everything would be acceptable to both her and her daughter. A young waiter was immediately appeared, placed a large basket of breadsticks on the table, and said “Hello, I’ll be your server for tonight. What would you like to drink?”
Once the drinks were ordered Buffy leaned closer and asked “Did you slip something extra to that little man?”
Laughing out loud her mother took a bite from a steamy breadstick before saying “No honey, not a dime. It’s just apart of great service. I told you this restaurant was fabulous!”
“Maybe, but he was pretty snotty at first.”
“I think it’s part of the training---in order to perform this job correctly you MUST learn how to look down your nose at everybody. No exceptions! Once you have them squirming, then you treat them like royalty so they’ll forget how rude you were and come back for more.”
They were both laughing when the waiter appeared and gracefully set their drinks down. Standing back up to his full height he inquired “Would you like an appetizer?”
Quickly picking up the menu Buffy’s mom answered “I’m sorry, but we haven’t even looked at this yet.”
Smiling at both, but especially at Buffy, he smoothly said “No problem. Would you like me to give you a few more minutes or if you’d like, I could tell you the specials of the house.”
“That would be great. What’s today’s special?”
Discreetly observing the waiter, Buffy guessed him to be about college-age. Tall, well-built, dark hair, blue eyes. Handsome definitely. And if she read correctly, he seemed to like her too. Murmuring her order Buffy had to admit that she thought him very handsome. Quickly he left with a promise and a smile to have their appetizers back shortly.
But he didn’t stir her like Angel and Angelus did and does.
Just the thought of Angelus had Buffy slightly shifting in her seat. She could feel a flush color her cheeks and she suddenly had trouble drawing breath. Taking a sip of the cool liquid she could feel a tiny sweat break across her forehead. The hunger was becoming all too familiar.
Desperately focusing her thoughts elsewhere, Buffy glanced at her mother. Joyce was leaning back in her chair, an amused smile brightening her face. “What?”
Setting her glass back on the table she casually stated “The waiter seemed to like you. You’re blushing so I can only assume that you like him.”
Taking another drink from her glass, Buffy shook her head. “I’m not blushing.”
“Yes you are. You’re fidgety too.” Leaning her elbows on the table she charged “Just admit it: you think he’s cute.”
“Mom!”
“Admit it!”
“I...I...do think he’s cute, but that doesn’t mean I like him! I’m just,” in the throes of demon-induced lust for a demon, “...hot or I mean heated. That’s all.” Waving her menu she innocently asked “Don’t you find it hot here?”
“Uh-huh.” Her mother just gave another satisfied grin and settled back to look at her menu.
The achy feelings intensified. Repeatedly Buffy crossed her legs in her discomfort but soon that became too distracting. Each shift caused her panties to rub against her in a most disconcerting way. The subject of her mother’s curiosity soon appeared at their table again with the tantalizing aroma of freshly cooked fare.
Ignoring the speculative look from her mother she watched while he placed each plate on the fine green linen. Standing back he magically produced a rose for each of them with a flourish. Exclaiming in delight Joyce took the proffered gift and slowly brought the delicate flower up, inhaling the subtle scent.
Leaning closer, but still at a respectful distance, the young man smiled and offered the red rose to Buffy. Smiling her thanks through the twisting agony that shot through her body, she took the flower. Immediately she felt a thorn prick her finger. Picking up her hand, the blue-eyed waiter intently surveyed her finger for any damage. Buffy inhaled sharply at the contact. Not because she felt desire for him but because she was being touched.
It hurt badly.
Gently dabbing at the tiny drop of blood he ardently apologized. “I’m so sorry. I thought I had gotten all the thorns. Here, let me.” Laying her hand down he picked up the rose and carefully looked at the long stem. Pulling out a pair of scissors from his belt/pocket, he snipped off the offending thorn and gave Buffy back her rose.
It was only with great control that she could smile and thank him. Her insides felt like they were twisting and coiling around each other. Buffy declined his offer of a band-aid and simply just wanted him to go away. Not because she was angry with him, but just because.
After taking their dinner order and apologizing once more, the young man finally left. She was in too much misery to be flattered by his obvious attraction. Mechanically she ate bite after bite and even pleasantly responded to her mother’s crowing, but on the inside she was in chaos.
I’m in heat. Like a fucking dog.
“School’s going well. I still help out a lot in the library...”
I want to fuck Angelus so bad, but I know that even if he were to show up stark naked in front of me, I’d probably want to run.
“Willow? No, I haven’t talked to her this weekend but she was going to be pretty busy...”
I can’t believe I’m in fucking heat. How can I function like this?
“Yes I’m still going to my tutoring sessions...”
I ache so bad I want to cry.
Finally, after eating the majority of her food, Buffy asked “Mom? Can I be excused? I have to go to the bathroom, and fix my mascara. It’s bugging me, so I might be a while.” Rapidly blinking, she brought a finger up to her lashes in order to perpetuate her excuse.
Maybe being in a room full of toilets will snap me out of this. Where the hell did this come from? Just because I thought of him? If so, I'm in BIG trouble. I can't help but think about him all the time.
“Sure honey. I’ll just guard our roses and our food.”
Standing up Buffy realized that the waiter was pulling back her chair. Politely smiling at him she said “Thank you.”
“It’s the least I can do, especially since it was my fault you got cut.” Pushing in her chair he pulled out a band-aid from his pocket. “I know you said you didn’t need one, but it would make me feel a whole lot better if you put it on.” Not even waiting for her answer he lifted up her hand and quickly placed it on her finger.
Looking at the blue and yellow band-aid, she looked back up at the handsome young man. “Tweety bird?” she asked in surprise.
“Hey I guess I’m still looney for Looney-Toons.”
Momentarily forgetting her physical pain, Buffy laughed out loud at the embarrassed look on his face. “Don’t worry, I’m still looney for them myself.” He was still holding her finger when she casually looked over her shoulder and saw Angelus.
Her heart stood still and the smile froze on her face while her mind filtered in the fact that he was here. Not only was he here but he was sitting at a table with several distinguished-looking people who ranged in age from being fairly young to being fairly old. Not only was he here sitting at a filled table, but he was wearing a conservatively dark suit with a crisp white shirt and wine-colored tie.
Angelus was HERE.
Idly he traced his finger around the edge of his wine-glass while he coldly stared at her. A cruel smile twisted his lips as he acknowledged her shock. Suddenly Buffy was hit with a fist of desire so strong it should have brought her down to her knees. Tearing her gaze away from him she whispered to the waiter “Where’s the bathroom?”
Pulling her hand back from the young man she murmured to her mother “I’ll be back Mom.” Blinking back a few tears she smiled and said “My mascara’s really bothering me. See? It’s irritating my eyes.”
Nodding her mother waved and said “Take all the time you need.”
Helpfully the handsome man offered “I can walk you over if you’d like---”
“No, that’s okay. Just tell me where it is.” Following his instructions Buffy walked towards the ladies room. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Angelus excuse himself from his table. Lowering her head she walked faster. This was a public place, he wouldn’t start anything here. Whereas a few minutes ago she would’ve grudgingly brightened at seeing him, now she was sickly terrified.
He had seen them.
The last time Angelus had seen another man touch her, he put the guy in the hospital. And this was all before they slept together.
Now that they had been intimate...
Seeing the wide black door Buffy soon heard the click of shoes behind her. She almost broke into a run, she started moving that quickly. However, in the next instance she felt a cold hand grip her arm and pull her into the empty bathroom. The mens’ bathroom. Briskly walking past the urinals, Angelus pushed open the ebony door of large stall and thrust Buffy in.
Calmly locking the door behind him, he leaned back against it and merely looked at her. Looking down she could see that the walls of the stall fully extended down to the floor just as the door did. They were completely enclosed in this tiny room.
Silently she watched him, praying for him to say something but all the wary of what he had to say. Finally after several moments of silence he said “Hello Miss Summers. Surprised to see me?”
Forcing herself to shrug she casually replied “Didn’t know you liked Italian. Nice suit, never thought I’d see you in one.”
Just as pleasantly he replied “Armani. Thank you my little bitch.”
Buffy winced at his usuage of words. Quietly she asked “What are you going to do?”
“What am I going to do? About you or him?”
“Both” she miserably whispered.
“Hmmm...that is the question isn’t it?" His black eyes impaled her with their fury while his face remained perfectly composed. He looked so immaculately clothed, not a single wrinkle nor a single strand of hair out of place. His beautiful voice was so gentle, so pleasant to the ear, not an ounce of anger to be heard.
But it was all a facade.
“I didn’t do anything.” He lifted one brow.
“You have no reason to be angry.” He slowly shook his head in negation.
“If you’re mad, then blame me but not him.” A chilling light lit in his eyes before being banked.
“Angelus be reasonable. There’s no reason for this.” He lifted his arm up and brushed off an imaginary piece of lint.
“You make such a strong argument Slayer, really you do.” Several moments passed again in silence before he finally stated “But still---you I’ll take care of later. Him? I’ll take care of now.” Turning away from Buffy he made to unlock the door.
Clutching his arm, she quietly begged beyond pride “Please Angelus, please don’t. He didn’t know, please don’t hurt him.” A thrill of white-hot lust shot through Buffy as she touched him; her body roiled and trembled with its’ own need, despite the gravity of the situation. Desperately she tried to focus on the present danger.
Contempt laced his voice as the facade finally cracked. Angelus raked her with his fierce gaze as he spat “You would beg for him? For that alone, he’s mine.”
Prying her fingers off his arm he went to open the door again. Flinging herself against his back she ferverently begged “Please don’t! Please! I’ll do anything!”
“Anything?”
“Anything you want, but please don’t hurt him.”
“Would you whore for him? Would you whore yourself to me, just to save him?” he disinterestedly asked.
Buffy closed her eyes, closing them against the cruelty of his expression and the cruelty of his words. “I’m not whoring myself, not for him, and not for you.”
“Aren’t you darling? You said you would do ANYTHING I wanted, if only I wouldn’t hurt him. You’re using your body to make me do what you want. Isn’t that what a whore does?”
“I’m not a prostitute” she rigidly stated.
“I didn’t call you a prostitute. I called you a whore. There’s a world of difference between the two. A prostitute does what she does to survive, there’s no interest in using herself for power. A whore does everything for power, not survival.”
“I’m not using you for power.”
Staring straight ahead he mockingly asked “Aren’t you the Slayer? Can’t you protect him yourself? Why are you offering me your body, if not for power?”
Shocked at the simplicity of his questions Buffy stumbled for words. You can’t stop him yet. You and he both know you can’t. Whatever it takes Buffy, don’t let him do this. Weren’t you supposed to keep him in control by keeping the focus on you? No matter what, keep the focus on you. If it means he gets to call you a whore, then whatever.
It still didn’t feel good. She hated the possibility that his words might be true. Inaudibly she mumbled “Please.”
“C’mon Buff, don’t humiliate yourself any more than you already have. Have some dignity” he boredly replied.
Pulling away from him, she gave him her back and sniffled as she tried to control the terror and mindless lust that threatened to overwhelm her. “You don’t want that.”
“What?” he asked with interest.
“You want me to humiliate myself. I understand that much about you.”
“You don’t understand a damn thing about me little girl.” The carefully modulated tone disappeared, leaving his quietly hissed voice behind. “Look at me!” Warily she turned around, keeping her eyes on level with his chest. Angelus was far from satisfied. Digging his fingers into Buffy’s arms he shook her once. “You just can’t be trusted can you?”
Flinching from his fury, Buffy raised her eyes to his. “I don’t understand what you mean.”
His eyes were narrowed with seething rage as he mimicked “I don’t understand what you mean. Don’t you Buff? Then why are you crying?” Tears just continued to roll down her face as she silently stared up at him. “Still no answer? I guess I’ll just have to elaborate, won’t I?”
“Everytime I turn my back on you, what do I see? I see you being pawed by someone else.”
“It wasn’t like that” she forcefully stated through her tears.
“No? Are you denying that his hands were on you?"
“Jesus Angelus! My finger got cut---”
“Yes, I know. I could smell your blood across the room. But that’s not all I could smell Buff. You know what else I smelled?”
Knowing the answer Buffy mutely shook her head. Humorlessly smiling Angelus dug his fingers even harder into her arms, making her wince. “You were hot for him, weren’t you?”
“No” she whispered, dreading where his line of questioning was going.
“What was that? Was that a yes?” he shouted daring any to hear him.
“No!” she quietly hissed in an effort to keep his voice down. “Angelus, it’s not what you think” she futilely tried to explain.
“Oh, I think I know exactly what it was like. Your mother seemed to think you liked him.” Correctly reading the surprise on her face he explained “ I could hear every word darling. Every word.”
“Then you heard me tell her I wasn’t interested in him. I wasn’t---”
“You didn’t sound so convincing Buff. Your mommy didn’t believe you and neither do I.” His tone of voice changed as he asked in dangerous softness “Tell me, did you imagine what it would be like to fuck him?”
Wrenching her arms out of his grip Buffy ran her hands through her hair in frustration. “I was NOT attracted to him! I WAS NOT thinking about sleeping with him!” Anger provoked her to bare herself and admit “I was thinking about you! YOU were the one I was wanting to BE with! Satisfied? Angelus---it was you, only you!”
Apparently he was because a deeply satisfied expression flitted across his face before disappearing. Taking a step towards Buffy, Angelus caught one of her hands. Fiercely he demanded “Where is it?"
Dazed by the change of topic Buffy asked in exasperation “Where’s what?”
“Don’t let your stupidity show again! Where is it?” he barked.
Recognition registered on her face at the same time that he held up his own hand. The ring. “When did you start wearing it?” she asked in disbelief.
A pitying smile touched his lips. “I’ve always been wearing it.”
“No, you haven’t...I would have noticed.”
“Obviously not Slayer. I’ve never taken it off, unlike you.”
Buffy reeled under this new knowledge. She never noticed that he still wore Angel’s ring. Even when they were intimate she never noticed it. “I-I had to take it off.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t have the right to wear it anymore.” Because I’m screwing you. The unspoken words hung heavy in the air.
“You would cast me off as easily as you cast him off?” he mused softly.
“What?!” she asked in surprise, hating feeling the guilt he was creating. First it was an innocent encounter with a nice waiter and now this.
Hardening his voice he ordered “Put it back on Buff.”
“Why would you even want me to? Don’t you understand what it means?”
“I understand completely. I want to see it back on you.” To remind you every night of what you do with me, despite what you feel for him.
“I---”
Bringing her hand up Angelus accused “You would take off our ring but you would wear his band-aid?” Deliberately he tore the hapless strip off her finger.
“It’s not OUR ring.”
“Oh Buffy, Buffy, BUFFY!” the last word ending in a shout. Alarmed Buffy sharply shushed him and placed her other hand over his mouth. The last thing she needed for someone to realize that a female was in the mens restroom and that female being her.
Calmly he removed her small hand from his face. “You still don’t get it, do you? He and I share many things beyond this body, including you. If it pleases me to call it OUR ring, then it is OUR ring. And if it pleases me for you to wear that ring you WILL wear that ring. Yes?” he ended in a tone that left Buffy with no choice but to answer:
“Fine! I’ll put it back on.”
Dropping her hand he leaned back against the stall door again. “Good. When I see you tonight, I trust it will be on.”
“Tonight?” she slowly asked, already quivering with desire at her future pleasures.
“Yes tonight. Remember---Just be ready for me? Well, I hope you’re ready because I want you tonight.”
Before good judgement could stop her, she asked “Why didn’t you come last night?”
“It’s none of your business” he replied sharply.
Hurt she replied “Fine, it’s none of my business. I expect you mind your own business too.”
Chuckling he arrogantly noted “But Slayer---you are my business.” Then softening his tone he said “Just expect to see me most nights until...” I tire of you these unspoken words also hung heavily in the air.
“Right. Until...” Buffy’s face was flushed with hurt and anger. No one had ever treated her like this. What was even more infuriating was the fact that she was putting up with it. He holds too much over your head was her silent defense.
But was it her reason or her excuse?
Even now, after he called her a whore, after he left his hurtful words unsaid, she still wanted him. Badly. She wished she could feel him against her, IN her. But things were far more complicated than that. She couldn’t be led around by her desires, not when things were left unfinished.
Coming back to her earlier concern she tautly asked “Then you’ll leave him alone?” Buffy was willing to do anything to ensure the young man’s safety. Whatever Angelus wanted of her was not too high a price to pay. If her pride had to suffer---so be it.
Ignoring her Angelus silkily asked “So you were thinking about me, hmm? Why should I believe you Buff? Why should I trust your words? It’s obvious that you don’t trust mine...”
“If you could smell me, then you have to know it was for you. Angelus, I...I hate feeling this way, I hate it...” Gritting her teeth she fiercely spat “I HATE it, but.... I hate not having you more.” Looking up into his face she softly whispered in wonder “That’s why my body started feeling this way, isn’t it? My body FELT you and I was calling to you, wasn’t I? And last night, I felt this too. Where you out there?”
Angelus stood silent, an enigmatic smile playing on his lips.
“I need you Angelus. I don’t understand why, but I do. Don’t you want me too?”
Deliberately he raked her with his gaze from head to toe. A smirk crossed his face as he drawled “Maybe I do, but the question is: how do I know you’re telling the truth?” That's right darling, play into my hands...just a little further
Falling into the role he created for her Buffy hesitantly stepped forward. “What can I do to make you believe me?”
Coldly smiling he stared into her upturned face; the small streaks of mascara only emphasizing the vulnerability of her eyes. She’s so beautiful, more than ever. Her beauty will be her downfall...and my curse. Feeling the irrational anger twist his mind, Angelus needed to vent.
He needed to vent because her very presence was a taunt to his being. He had spent the entire night prowling. Prowling in his piece of Hell in the sky and prowling outside her home. Even then her scent had beckoned to him, subtlely dancing in his head until in his fury he had taken a long drive out of town and performed the favor of torture for an aquantaince.
It had taken the better half of a day to finally finish the bloody task and still he felt no better than he had the night before. In celebration of his success (the subject spilled its guts both literally and figuratively) he and his colleagues had been enjoying a festive dinner.
Yet still she beat a merry beat in his skull, in his loins.
When he had been notified of her mother’s call to dine here, he had thought it would be amusing to observe the object of his obsession in normal surroundings. He had thought it would be rather droll to listen to her pure and infantile babble. He had arranged for their table to be taken out of a tiny corner and placed up where he could see all and not be seen in return.
Instead it had not been amusing at all.
Angelus, a demon who through out the years had seen beauty in all forms, enough so that he was almost immune to it other than wanting to possess it, had been taken aback. The small girl who had walked in was breathtaking. It was more than the flesh. It was impossible to grasp and even more impossible to describe, but it held him captive. Her awakening desire was a delicious temptation of innocence and sin.
It glowed dimly at first, quickly gaining strength in tandem with his own hunger. It was the same as when she had first awoken from her mysterious sleep. Her life force had been reaching across the room for him. Her scent filled his head until his every sip of wine had been a sip of Buffy.
It had not been droll.
Several of his dinner companions were drawn to her in their own ways. And each wanted to sample Buffy in their own unnatural way. Never overt, since it was not their way, the looks had been bland if not furtive. The sighs of interest could barely be heard, yet is was there all around.him.
Angelus had felt the old stirrings of possessiveness and threat claw at him. She was not yet aware of her allure, but once she was, what then? How long would it be before she began exercising her new-found power? How long before he felt the madness burn him alive? She was dangerous to him, he knew it now and he knew it the moment he first set sight on her in Angel’s apartment.
Yet still he wanted to exploit and destroy her danger, twisting it to suit his own desires.
He could not bear it and that made him furious..
He had been hard pressed to not snap the neck of one demon-companion when he boldly mentioned “How lovely that one is over there. It will take some time to tire of her to be sure. I want her. How much do you think her mother would take for her?”
The offer had firmly been declined after a few choice words from himself. “She is mine. Are we in accordance?” Obviously they were. No other comments were made from the offender wearing the guise of a middle-aged banker. However, the avidness permeated his every gesture when he glanced at the Summers’ table.
He should have had their reservation declined.
Yet the siren Slayer was still not done with him.
The waiter wanted his toy and Angelus had never been one who could share well. She had smiled at HIM, a stranger whereas she never even lifted her lips in a grin for her lover. She had spoken to HIM in a voice full of softness whereas her voice was always brittle with him, unless he had her on her back...
The little shit thought he had a chance with Buffy. Angelus could hear him boast about the "hot blonde at table 20". The little puke would take the chance to get in her panties if she let him. Angelus would never let that happen. However, the big question being would she?
He needed to vent and vent he would.
In a flash Angelus had the lid down, himself seated, and Buffy straddled over his lap. Hungrily he nipped at the flesh of her neck and shoulder while her head fell forward to lean upon his crisp suit. He would brand her, mark her that she would never turn to another. And if she still did...
....he would methodically destroy her until not even a strand of hair was left to identify Buffy Summers.
Buffy was so heated, so incredibly aroused. The element of danger inflamed her senses: danger of a young man’s life, danger of discovery, danger of being in his arms. Dimly her mind tried to fight through the haze of red lust, tried to remind her of her unfinished business. But soon her mind too slipped away, becoming just a body that needed her lover.
Buffy’s dress was bunched at her waist, the tiny scrap of satin all that separated her from his touch. Aggression forced her to pull his head away from her shoulder, despite his warning growl, and press her lips against his. Her tongue boldly darted into his mouth as her hands unashamedly fumbled with his pants.
She let out a mewl of satisfaction once he was no longer bound. Thickly she murmured “What can I do to make you believe me?” Hungrily she rubbed herself against him, her breath catching in her throat
Grabbing her by the nape of her neck he squeezed until she moaned softly. Her eyes were held by his, the shifting shades of green and gold swirling in their depths. Her arousal increased as she watched his eyes in fascination. The blood in her body beat strongly, wildly drumming along, joyous in knowing he was there.
Without a word Angelus pushed Buffy off his lap and forced her down to her knees, his hand still on her nape. “I want you to really show me how much you want me Buff. I want to see your lovely mouth wrapped around me. Prove yourself to me lover...”
Buffy lowered her eyes in shame. Everytime she did this he only mocked and insulted her. He was only out for her humiliation once again. But what was even more shaming was the fact that she was still on fire for him. Even though she was on her knees in this public restroom, she was still enflamed for him.
“What are you waiting for darling? Silently comparing us? Wondering which one of us is bigger, hmm? Afterall, you seem awfully preoccupied babe.” The pleasant tone was back again, correctly warning Buffy of Angelus’ growing displeasure.
Laying her hands on his cloth covered knees, she took him within her mouth. She felt him release her neck only to dig his fingers into the back of her head. He did not push nor did he pull, but his hand was a silent reminder nonetheless. Swiftly her head bobbed up and down, her tongue swirling around the tip, gently flicking into the tiny opening.
A moan.
It was barely more than a stirring of air, but she heard it! Not daring to look up or even acknowledge it Buffy felt a spark of triumph flare within. He had moaned for her. Moving one hand from his knee, she wrapped it around his base and tightened. There it was again!
Softly returning his moan she began to lavish his cock in a way she never believed herself capable of doing. Female instinct took over as she licked, sucked, and nibbled on his strong, cool flesh. The outside world disappeared as she lavished Angelus with her mouth. The fact that her mother was in the same building lost its’ importance. The fact that a young man’s life still hung in the balance faded, not forgotten, but merely faded...
Angelus had moaned for her.
Buffy could sense his orgasm building. For a moment she felt a hesitancy at tasting him, but then it disappeared. She would prove to him how much she desired him. She would prove to him that her unwilling interest lay with him and no other.
Faster and faster she moved, her hand compensating for what her mouth could not take. Suddenly she heard the bathroom entrance open with a SWOOSH. The outside world made an abrupt appearance and reminded Buffy of its’ presence. In response Buffy began to pull away from him only to have Angelus tighten his grip on the back of her head. She lifted her eyes to him, wanting to stop until the person went away.
Instead Angelus silently mouthed the words “Please me”.
Her insides clenched with his disguised command. She suddenly realized that pleasing him was more important than anything else in the world. More important than the threat of discover, more important than any consequences could ever be. However, her newly breached innocence still made it difficult not to focus on the person on the other side of the wall...
The echo of the stranger’s footsteps as he walked made Buffy tighten with apprehension even as her mouth continued its’ wanted mission. The hiss of a zipper being lowered caused her to dig her fingers into his knee. She was sure that every suck, every lick of her mouth could be heard. Yet still she eagerly tasted and laved him with her tongue and her lips.
Angelus understood the reasons for his Slayer’s apprehension but simply did not care enough to stop. Her mouth and her conflicting emotions were too sweet for him to pass up. Let her wonder if they could be heard. Even as the sound of the stranger relieving himself broke the silence of the bathroom, covering any noise they might be making, he could feel the tension radiating from Buffy.
And the lust shaded with a hint of fear. Fear of what? Fear of being discovered or fear of what he still might do? Let her wonder. I’m still far from being done with her...
As his release began Angelus could have shouted his pleasure, mortifying Buffy and causing the stranger to wonder in sick fascination who was the in the stall. Instead he chose to press her face against him, silently giving himself to the moment. Angelus realized this was the first time she would have the taste of cum in her mouth and he only hoped she, in her maidenly sensibilities, didn’t vomit all over his suit.
But if she did---well he would be all that was gracious. Understanding and forgiving before doling out a little punishment later.
Instead Buffy surprised him. As his fluids rushed into her mouth, he felt her give a little start before clamping down her lips around him. The stranger zipped up his pants and walked to the row of sinks, releasing a stream of water. The power of that stream could not have been stronger than that of Angelus’ seed as he spurted into her hot mouth.
Buffy could feel the splash of cool liquid hit the back of her throat. She shuddered as her stomach reflexively heaved before forcing herself to accept Angelus, all of him. She could still hear the man washing his hands, pushing on the soap dispenser several times, before finally turning off the water.
The squeak of a paper towel being rolled echoed in her ears, the explosive rip of tearing paper a soothing noise to Buffy’s oversensitive nerves. The stranger would be gone soon, taking with him the outside world and still Buffy continued to swallow her lover, making him a part of her.
The click of the stranger’s sounded thtoughout the room before the SWOOSH of the opening door closed him off from the two sinning lovers. Feeling the tension ease from her shoulders, Buffy completely focused on the taste of Angelus and the way he felt in her mouth.
Finally she released him, her lips automatically kissing the dark curls peeping through the open seam of his pants. Silently she laid her head on his thigh, waiting for the derisive words. Buffy rested on the cold white tiles in a restaurant that her mother took her, wearing a dress that her father bought her, while the outside world lay twenty feet away.
She could taste him on her tongue, she could taste him with every swallow. She had given her first complete blow-job, she had done what she never thought she could do: swallow cum.
How many times in the past had she tittered and gasped with her junior high friends over this subject? Eww! Gross! How can anyone ever do that? Do you think you’ll ever do that? Me? No, no, like ewww! I’d never do that---not even when I get married!
Would he be pleased with her? Did she prove herself to him? Buffy simply did not know. Breathing deeply she closed her eyes and thought No matter what he says, I know he moaned for me. BECAUSE of me.
He moaned for her.
What she also knew that her body ached, it pulsed and drummed a terrible rhythm within her. Her neck, her veins throbbed as fiercely as the flesh between her thighs did. She felt lacking, a joining that was incomplete.
Her body wept its’ silent tears, coating her panties with her desire.
Softly moaning Buffy opened her eyes and stared at the wall in front of her. She hoped that he would do something to aleve her need soon. He knew how she hungry she was, he could not be so cruel to leave her, could he?
Of course Angelus could be that cruel.
When she heard him zip up his pants, she gritted her teeth in frustration. Piercing tears of need leaked from her eyes when he stood up, neatly dislodging her head.
“You have the makings to make a marvelous whore darling. Definitely worth your weight in gold...”
Buffy’s heart twisted with pain, while her body lurched with unfulfilled desire. Damn him! She had abused her pride one too many times tonight, she would not do so again. Her blood shrieked and boiled, trying bend her to its' will. Beg him! What difference does it make?! Who are you going to be fooling with this act?
Maybe no one, but there was only so much she could take right now.
Lifting her head she slowly rose from her position on the floor, reached around him, and slid open the lock. Pushing the door open with her fingertips, she tried to avoid all contact with his body as she walked past him.
His low chuckle sent waves of anger through her, but she continued to hold her head high as she walked towards the exit. Coldly she said “No wonder you couldn’t keep anybody Angelus, you treat everyone like shit.” Turning around she speared him with her furious gaze “I’ll beat you. Maybe not now, but I WILL do it. You won’t always win Angelus: one day I WILL walk away from you forever.”
You’ll pay for that little comment of yours Buff. Attacking me at the heart of my insecurities---for shame Slayer! Moving with his new speed, Angelus was in front of her before she could blink. Surprise dimmed the fury in her eyes, but only slightly. Gently stroking the side of her cheek with one finger Angelus murmured “You may walk away but you’ll ending up crawling back to me darling. They always do.”
Buffy’s eyes narrowed in outrage while she opened up her mouth to deny his words. He lightly slapped her face and harshly said, “Do not say a word lover or I’ll rip your young friend’s spine out before you can even reach the door.”
Satisfied by her silence he gently took her by the shoulders and turned her towards the line of mirrors. Softly he advised “You should do something with your face and dress Buff. Your mommy will take one look at you and know what you were up to. We don’t want to give her the wrong impression, do we?”
“Always thinking of others Angel?” she sarcastically questioned.
Angelus’ jaw clenched with fury, but still he carefully smoothed her hair. You will definitely pay for that tonight my little whore. Calmly he reached around her to the sink and washed her hands carefully, taking time with each digit. “Stay here.” Shaking his hands free of the warm water droplets, he walked over to a dispenser, and unrolled a length of towel. Coming back to Buffy he gently dried her hands.
Turning her around he brought up the towel to her lips. Slowly he wiped her mouth free of his passion and the remnants of her lipstick. Still keeping his gaze level with hers, he brought the towel up and wiped his own mouth free of her.
Balling up the paper Angelus shot it into the basket without looking away from her. Lightly he said, “There, just as pure as before." Leaning forward until he was mere inches away from her lips he whispered, "Only you and I will know that I had my cock shoved deep in your mouth.”
Gasping Buffy’s face colored with shock and embarrassment. He could lull her with his odd gentleness before blowing it all to Hell with his crudeness. Balling up her fists she fought with the urge to strike out at him. His voice still as pleasant as before warned, “I wouldn’t do anything rash if I were you lover. I’ve been in a mellow mood so far, don’t fuck it up.”
Mellow? He called this mellow? Softly cursing she relaxed her hands. Curtly she said, “I don’t think I’ll be good company tonight, but hey! It’s your night, right?”
His eyes remained as cold as ever even while his lips turned upwards into a smile. “That it is Slayer, that it is.” Smoothing his shirt front he asked “Would you like me to take you back to your mommy?”
“I can find my own way, thanks.” Swinging back to the door she stalked out of the room, her steps softly muted before echoing in the next room. Shrugging Angelus brought his hands up to his hair. Only a few strands had been pushed from their original position, and easy enough to fix. He could hear Buffy in the next bathroom as she answered her call of nature.
He could hear her movements as well as her curses. She was horny, frustrated, and furious. Tough shit baby, so am I. He had vented but he was far from satisfied.
A chilling smile touched his lips as he thought of another way to vent his fury. That Slayer just didn’t know when to let it go, did she? She just HAD to call him Angel...
Walking out of the bathroom, he caught sight of Buffy’s would-be-lover hovering nearby. Clamping down on an instinctive surge of violence, he thought First things first my boy. Strolling past his enemy, Angelus put on his most charming smile and made his way to Buffy’s mother. “Hello Mrs. Summers. Do you remember me? I’m Buffy’s tutor...”