Fleshing Out the Ghosts

Thunder and lightening streaked across the sky in a series of violent, jagged outbursts. Casting an eye towards the window, Buffy pointed the small remote towards the TV and turned it off. She had spent the past hour flipping between talk shows, shopping networks, a special on Inca mummies, and a cooking program. None of them could successfully hold her attention for more than a commercial break.

Drawing her legs up she absently stared out the bay window, watching the rain rush down the panes before dropping out of sight. It wasn’t even her first full day and already she was ready to go home.

Now THAT was pretty sad.

Here she was in one of the most visited cities in the world and instead of doing her full share of experiencing the perks that came with living in a big city, she was ready to go back to one whose perks were all negated by the Hellmouth.

She and her father had arrived in LA the night before without much fanfare. After a small snack Buffy had went into what had become the spare guestroom (previously her bedroom) and waited for sleep to take her. Laying there between the stiff, unfamiliar sheets the urge to patrol had been strong, despite the foreign territory. Several times she was tempted to slip out and find the trouble that lurked in the streets but she had resolutely squashed those ideas.

It wouldn’t do for Dad to find her gone on her first night there.

Not that he’d notice.

After talking to her for about ten minutes, her father had excused himself and went into his office, which had formerly been their dining room.

It was funny how this was the home she had grown up in and now it felt like she had never lived here. Almost everything was different, not because he had made changes, but because the rooms were so…empty.

Whereas before she ignored the changes and instead focused on the sameness, now Buffy could not help but notice the barrenness of what used to be her home.

A peal of thunder reverberated through the sky while the room darkened even further. The storm was really picking up and Buffy couldn’t help but become exhilarated. She remembered how she used to be scared of storms when she was little and now they fascinated her.

Returning to thoughts of her father, Buffy wondered if he was happy. Looking away from the window she glanced at the barely furnished living room. Granted the words bachelor pad often meant mismatched furniture and lack of niceties, but she didn’t get that hanging lose and free vibe here.

Watching the storm again Buffy acknowledged that her father fit the workaholic profile almost too well. She now was beginning to see it for what it was: a way to hide. Sifting through her memories she remembered how it was when she was little. Back then Hank Summers preferred to hang out at home and play Barbies with his daughter than work overtime.

But as the years rolled by and marriage no longer seemed as good an idea as it once was, then overtime became the norm rather than the exception. Eventually the ring had come off and then overtime became a way of life, perhaps becoming a second marriage of sorts.

Hearing the sharp crackle of lightening Buffy looked up and watched it race across the sky. Whatever issues her father had concerning his previous life was pushed aside during the course of a 70-hour week. She understood that now more than ever because it was what she did.

Training and slaying was a refuge that made her feel like she was doing something right in the world, and it helped her forget her problems. At least until Angelus started interfering…

A near-deafening crash of thunder caused the walls to vibrate and sent a thrill of excitement to course down Buffy’s spine. The rain began pelting the windows in a furious beat and now the thunderstorm was over the house in full fury. Shifting position on the couch, she leaned on the arm of the couch and kept her eyes fixated on the glass.

These two Summers both used their respective jobs to keep the pain away. Buffy understood that now and in knowing that, she felt a measure of kinship with her father. Last night he had stayed and worked into the early morning hours, the electronic whir of his laptop keeping company with her thoughts, and making her wonder if his were as tormented as her own.

Buffy hoped not, for she had spent part of the night plagued with desire and the tortured memories that came along with it…

Sighing deeply Buffy wondered what Willow and Xander were doing. Noticing the black phone on the side table she got up and walked over to it. Picking it up she quickly dialed Willow’s number while absently hoping she wouldn’t get electrocuted.

“Hello? Is Willow there? It’s Buffy. Oh, she’s not. She did? Oh, okay. Could you please tell her I called and that I’d call her back? Thank you.”

Immediately she called Xander’s house, while keeping an eye on the near-black sky, and received pretty much the same news except that the Harris’ had no idea where their son was.

Placing the phone back in its cradle Buffy smiled. Apparently Oz had taken Willow out to the bookstore and Xander was probably out with Cordelia---and out of Sunnydale. After all, even though Cordelia had decided she could “tolerate being around him and stuff” it would be a slow process before she felt comfortable enough to “tolerate being around him in daylight”.

Wandering out into the sparsely furnished den Buffy felt the certain bland oppressiveness that sometimes comes with human silence. Although watching the storm building was exciting, now she was kind of bored. Beyond that she was troubled. Stopping in front of the patio doors she leaned her head against the cool glass and blankly stared at the backyard’s soggy green grass.

Angel bought a piece of property one month before he, ah, left.

Like a specter, Angelus’ voice rose to deride her. Angel had planned on leaving her and she still couldn’t understand it. Closing her eyes she fought to kill off her embarrassingly quick tears.

After all they shared, after all they were to each other, Angel was going to leave. And he hadn’t even said a word. Nothing.

Anger mixed with sadness as she wondered, ‘While we were making love was he still planning on leaving to L.A.? And was he ever going to tell me or was he going to sneak off in the middle of the night?’

Killing off the pain these thoughts brought her, she stood there in numbing silence and waited for the emotions to fade. Once the danger of raw suffering had passed, Buffy opened her lids and gazed outside once more.

Despite knowing in her gut that he was telling the truth, Buffy had still wanted to hope that perhaps Angelus was lying. So after Hank had left, she had turned on the spare pc in the dining room, and found her way onto the Internet. The awkwardness of maneuvering the net faded as she quickly typed in a search for directories. Once it came up all she had needed to do was pick one before entering in this address and the address she was given.

He bought an old rundown building Buff, right in L.A. Wanna know where?

As she slowly pushed each number and letter Buffy had felt her heart thud with a strained nervousness. When she pushed the enter button and the screen disappeared, she had hoped that it would tell her that there was no such address.

It hadn’t.

A yellow map appeared on the screen with exact directions from her father’s house. Angelus hadn’t lied to her.

This time.

Numbly Buffy had printed it out, blindly watching the paper quickly shoot out of the paper tray. It was now neatly creased and hidden in her suitcase, waiting for the moment to be unfolded tonight.

Not surprisingly, but thankfully, her father was due to be having dinner with clients in Vancouver, so Buffy was free to stay out as long as necessary. Watching the rain lighten she humorously wondered how it was that her parents always managed to find themselves out of town when she was going to do something she necessarily shouldn’t.

Her dad was due to be gone until tomorrow evening so he had left her some money and his cell phone number. Before he had left he seemed genuinely disappointed that all they would have was one day. Dressed smartly in dress casual clothes he briefly looked like the dad she remembered before the lines of fatigue stole that image away.

“I’m sorry to do this to you Buffy, but I have no choice. This meeting had already been arranged for over a month and I can’t cancel. I told your mom---“ Abruptly he broke off and changed the tone of his voice. “I wish we could have had a better time to do this. I’m sorry Buffy.”

“It’s okay Dad.” Although he hadn’t finished his sentence, she figured out what was left unsaid. Now she understood why he hadn’t wanted the visit to take place. It wasn’t because he didn’t want her company; it was because he wouldn’t be here.

Last year Buffy would’ve pouted and felt that her father just didn’t care. Now she knew that he did care, but felt that he couldn’t change the course of his life to accommodate his family, namely herself. Although they were choices he still chose to make, Buffy did not judge him anymore for those choices.

For she understood all too clearly how the choices in life had a way controlling the choice-maker, despite the purest intentions.

Pushing away from the door Buffy glanced about her. The room’s large enough. Once she pushed the coffee table to the side she’d have plenty of space to do some training exercises. Bending her back to the task she quickly moved the table against the wall.

Slipping her socks off Buffy felt the hardwood floor with her bare toes before lifting her arms in a long stretch. Arching her calves she stood on the balls of her feet while taking a deep breath in. As the air expanded in her lungs Buffy thought about the call she made to her mother last night.

Hi Mom, it’s me.

Buffy! What time did your get there?

Just now.

Well, how’d the ride go?

It was fine. You know---long, a little boring, but good.

Did your Dad stop for anything to eat?

Yeah, we stopped at a Chick Fil-A.

Chick-Fil-A, huh?

Yeah, it was good.

Oh, listen before I forget: Buffy, why didn’t you let Angel know you were going over to Dad’s?

Angel?

Yes. He was here tonight for your tutoring lesson.

What’d you tell him?

Why I told him you were visiting Dad.

Oh, it must’ve slipped my mind.

Well make sure it doesn’t slip your mind again. I’m sure he’s a busy man Buffy and it’s just bad form to leave your engagements like that.

I’m sorry Mom, it won’t happen again. Um, Mom?

Yes?

Did he seem…

What?

Nothing.

Upset?

Yeah.

Not particularly. He just said the same thing you did---it must’ve slipped your mind.

Finishing her stretches Buffy began performing a series of defensive positions before reversing to offense. As the fluid movements of her body created its own offering of sweat and adrenaline, she wondered about how things would be progressing between herself and Angelus.

If progressing was even a word to be used…

Closing off her mind to everything but the task at hand, Buffy did not notice the passing of hours. Her body performed its task, perfecting many of her positions while greatly improving on others. Finally when the daylight turned into the darkness of winter night did Buffy stop.

Breathing in deeply she stood with hands on hips and cast an eye towards the murky view outside. Nighttime. Walking into the kitchen she walked over to the sink and washed her hands. Opening up the refrigerator she then searched the somewhat bare contents in hopes of dinner. Her body was screaming for food and if she was going to be in top shape tonight she’d better fill it.

Finding a large, uncooked steak Buffy took it out and placed it on the counter. Rummaging through the cupboards she soon found a skillet and some seasoning. Before long the mouth-watering aroma of beef permeated through the kitchen while Buffy prepared a small pot of instant mashed potatoes.

While her dad left money for takeout she felt that the money might be better served tonight in the form of cab fare. Besides, steak and potatoes was a nice alternative to pizza in Buffy’s opinion.

Once the steak was finished she put it on a great big plate along with a healthy serving of instant mashed potatoes. Taking her dinner to the living room Buffy flipped on the TV and a lamp. Setting her plate down she then walked back into the kitchen for a glass of juice. Seeing the jug she mischievously shrugged and took it with her into the living room along with her cup. No sense in having to keep getting up when there was no one there to remind her of good manners.

Buffy idly scanned through the channels before settling on a game show. Between cutting her steak she watched the program and tried to relax her mind. The more she tried to relax, the faster she ate, until it was obvious to Buffy that the truth was she was ready to go.

Finishing off her meal she turned off the TV and dropped her plate off in the kitchen. Going into her room she pulled her suitcase off the floor and plopped it on the bed. Unzipping it Buffy rummaged through her clothes until she found what she was looking for. Laying out her hunting clothes and gear, along with the folded sheet of paper, she went into the bathroom and took a shower.

Within minutes Buffy was out, dried off, and in the process of doing her hair. Tonight was not a night to be fashionably cute so she securely clipped her hair to the back so that it was arranged in a modern twist. Make-up itself was very minimal, not more than a light sweeping of shadow across the lids and sheer lip-gloss.

Striding back into the bedroom she slipped on a black thong along with a black sports bra. Adjusting her underclothing to satisfaction Buffy then pulled up a pair of black form-fitting pants. Although they appeared tight they were actually quite comfortable and flexible, allowing Buffy all the freedom of movement she needed. A lightweight, black turtleneck top, jacket, socks, stakes, and small boots were all put on before Buffy was ready to walk out the door. Reaching down she stuffed Angel’s address into her pocket and purposefully strode into the hallway.

The click of her shoes echoed loudly throughout the house as Buffy grabbed her key and checked to make sure all the doors were locked. It was a habit she was beginning to develop after realizing she pretty much left them unlocked all the time, which was completely not the safe thing to do, Slayer or not.

Closing the front door behind her Buffy walked down the drive and down the sidewalk. She didn’t want any of her former neighbors to be aware of her movements and since cabs were generally not seen in this neighborhood, they’d notice. Especially Mrs. Wagner the older woman across the street. Smiling in amusement Buffy realized that her incognito plans might already be foiled, because for all she knew Mrs. Wagner was watching her now.

Glancing a look over her shoulder, she could see the corner of the front window pulled away slightly, allowing enough light from the living room to make an outline of the head there.

Turning away Buffy laughed softly as she picked up her pace. As annoying as it once was, it was nice to know that although many things do change, some things stayed the same, including Mrs. Wagner.

After walking a mile or two, Buffy saw the blinding lights of a gas station loom ahead. Speeding up her pace she noticed that only a few cars were there. Spying a phone booth set on the curb she quickly reached it. Hefting the awkwardly attached phonebook she impatiently flipped through the worn pages until she came across the listings for cabs.

Picking one Buffy reached into her pocket and pulled out two quarters. Inserting them into the machine she dialed the number and soon was giving the address of the station. Hanging up the phone she walked closer to the well-lit doors and waited.

Although she wanted to ignore it, Buffy could feel the tight twist of nervousness make itself comfortable in her stomach. If she weren’t so tense she’d probably be pacing at this moment. Her imaginations began to run wild as she wondered what would prompt Angel to purchase a whole building in one of the rougher parts of town.

Traitorously her mind also began to wonder what other aspects of Angel’s life did she NOT know. He had known Oz was a werewolf, but hadn’t told her---she could understand that one. But not this.

Seeing yellow lights turning towards the station Buffy saw that her cab was there. Lifting an arm up in the air she waited for it to pull up at the curb. Stepping down she walked to the passenger door and opened it. Sliding in she gave the driver the address and leaned back.

The world of suburbia quickly sped away as the cab drove towards the sprawling center of L.A. Disinterestedly looking out the window Buffy watched as miles of concrete held all manners of cars, trucks, and vans. A red convertible with its top down abruptly ensnared her attention. A young blond woman was behind the wheel, her straight bleached hair waving like a banner as the car zipped by.

Buffy recognized the stranger as a vampire.

Narrowing her eyes she leaned towards the driver and amended the address. While she couldn’t go speed after the vampiress, she could make sure she patrolled tonight and perhaps caught her later.

The cab left the highway and drove onto an exit ramp. Soon they left the anonymous concrete road behind and traveled deeper into a world that was far removed from even Sunnydale’s seedier districts.

Buffy raptly watched the scenery passing by her now. This was to be Angel’s world, his domain. As the derelict streets grew more and more depressing, her understanding of how real this situation grew more and more intense.

Strangely with each numbed soul that stood at the street corner, with each husk of a human that stumbled onto the street, the closer Buffy felt to Angel. He had purposely chosen this place because this is where he felt he belonged, where he needed to be.

Abruptly Buffy thought of Angelus.

Angelus, the narcissistic ruler of all he surveyed would never choose to live among this sort of human. He would feed on them, torment them as he saw fit, but his pride was such that he would never lower himself to LIVE among the dirty masses.

The sinfully luxurious penthouse in the sky proved that more than anything. Spike and Druscilla chose to live in a factory, with all the metal and outdated amenities it could offer, but not Angelus. No, he needed imported glass, exquisitely painted ceilings, and plush bed curtains.

Angel merely had a small bed pushed against the wall…

Leaning her head back against the seat Buffy felt such bewilderment. Angel was her first love, nothing could change that, not even if fate had a different path and Angel had left for L.A. as Angel. There was so much she loved about him; his gentleness, caring, and selflessness were just the beginning.

And now…

Now she loved Angelus as well.

Unconsciously frowning Buffy amended that thought. Love was not the word for what she felt for Angelus. It was too soft. What she suffered for him was a terrible passion that had her within its crushing jaws. He had no gentleness, caring, or selflessness.

He had only told her about this hidden aspect of Angel’s life just to hurt her, to make her hate Angel. Feeling the cab come to a stop Buffy quickly scanned the surroundings outside her window before leaning forward to pay the cabbie.

Angelus wanted her to hate Angel but instead he made her understand and love Angel even more.

Stepping out of the cab Buffy shut the door behind her and sized up the seemingly abandoned surroundings. The sound of the cab’s engine pulling away was the only one that echoed in the night. Walking down the cracked and pitted sidewalk Buffy could see the dismal wetness that marked the forsaken urban street

Buffy’s heightened hearing heard a rustle in the alleyway that was accompanied by only one heartbeat. Purposefully striding towards the decayed and hidden insides of this lonely place, Buffy felt an energy pulse through her system.

Angel’s building was only one block down but she was not going to see it yet. Instead she was going to take care of some business---slaying business.

*****

Walking away from the discreet, out of the way jeweler’s shop, Angelus patted the large sturdy box resting in his jacket pocket. Feeling a smug satisfied smile tug his lips he resisted the urge to openly let it forth.

Instead he leisurely put his hands in his pockets and whistled a low, measured tune. The beings that passed gave little attention to the tall, broad man. After all, the streets were well lit, and crime was almost non-existent in this part of town. However, deciding to stroll the streets of LA could be a danger if one wasn’t careful, and it was a danger Angelus wholeheartedly hoped someone would decide to take.

But not for his thirst…

Confidently making his way towards one of the more seedier, industrial districts Angelus reached out with his senses. The power that surged through him gave Angelus a start. Their connection had never felt like this and he immediately craved more. Though never trying this before with Buffy, he could feel that he would be successful.

Focusing on the world in front of him, he allowed a portion of himself to connect with the world as SHE saw it. His mind sped past the thousands of life forces that dotted the landscape until it found her.

Slowing his pace Angelus could see that Buffy was engaged in battle with a vicious vampire. The little scarred spitfire of furious intent apparently had no intention of allowing the Slayer to succeed in jamming a stake in her heart.

Not that he blamed the vampiress.

But unfortunately for her, this night would mark the end of the female’s reign. Angelus could feel the confidence that hummed through Buffy’s veins and could sense the sureness of victory that flavored her consciousness.

Smiling with a hint of malice Angelus pulled away from Buffy. He hoped his lover staked this one a little harder than the rest.

Besides, no matter how good of a fighter the spitfire was, his whore was just too good of Slayer…

*****

Nimbly jumping in the air Buffy avoided a sweeping leg spin. Impatiently blowing a strand of fallen air from her face she innocently asked, “How’d you get that scar on your face? I mean no offense, but it IS pretty big.”

As soon as the vampiress shifted slightly in her guard Buffy attacked with a nasty blow to the gut. Although it DID make her seem shallow and vapid, relying on the superficial sometimes proved to be an advantage.

Dead or not, most females were very protective about their looks.

This one apparently was no different.

Staggering back a few feet the female showed a wicked mouth full of wickeder teeth and snarled, “I’d rather have a scar on my face than be what you are.”

“Really? So you’d rather be a candidate for reconstructive surgery than a Slayer?” Circling her prey Buffy mockingly pouted, “You vamps are always talking about my calling as if your gig is SO much better.”

Lashing out with a powerful fist to the chest before dealing an uppercut to the chin, Buffy watched as the vampiress flew back into the unforgiving wet concrete.

Quickly straddling the female she pulled out a stake and held it securely in her fist. “Maybe I’m biased, but walking around the way you guys do---you know with ridges on your face all the time---kept in the dark, out of the sun, joining forces with Evil, is just NOT making the strongest of cases here---“

Hissing in hatred the vampiress spat, “Being a Slayer is not as bad as what you are now!”

By this point Buffy would have already staked her and moved on but something in the female’s tone held her hand. Staring down into the vampiress’ twisted face she was surprised to hear the vehement, “I’d rather die than be what you are---a WHORE!”

Frowning in confusion Buffy repeated, “Whore?”

“Yes a whore!” Keeping her cold gaze on Buffy the female turned her head slightly. “You see the scar on my face? I wear it proudly.” Moving her head back to its original position she heatedly asked, “You know why?”

Pulling back slightly Buffy evenly obliged. “Why?”

“Because I refused to be the plaything of a Morwak! He wanted me, I spit in his face. He threatened to disfigure me, I bit a chunk out of his arm.” Proudly arching her neck the vampiress once again displayed the thick, twisted scar that ran from her temple all the way to the underside of her chin. “This is what I got for my trouble but by then he didn’t want me either.”

Buffy didn’t want to feel pity, kinship, understanding, ANYTHING for this thing beneath her but she needed to ask. “Did the Morwak rape you?”

The unknown vampiress met Buffy’s gaze and emotionlessly replied, “Yes, but I felt nothing. NOTHING.”

Buffy couldn’t help but remember her own rape before feeling the twist of shame of how she had responded to Angelus’ calculated caresses afterwards. Unlike her, SHE had felt everything that night.

“He raped me then put this on my face.” Once more the vampiress gestured with her face, highlighting the gruesome scar in the weak light that somehow filtered in through the tiny space between the crumbling buildings.

Easing away but remaining firmly on the woman beneath her, Buffy asked in a low voice, “Why didn’t you heal?”

“Because he used one of the magicks his kind has---the ability to scar to for life.”

Buffy could not help but see the deep tremor of pain that went through the woman. The vulnerable emotion vanished immediately beneath a glare of judgment. “I may be ugly to a pretty thing like you, but at least I’ve got my dignity.”

As the woman made claim to hers, Buffy acknowledged her own. “And so do I.”

“Not if you’re whoring for the Scourge.”

Smoothly rising off the vampiress Buffy stood with legs splayed firmly. Logic told her to stake the demon and be done, but somehow she found herself answering, “I don’t whore for him---“

Rising on her own the vampiress positioned herself several feet away from the Slayer, her arms half raised and her eyes watching every nuance of Buffy’s posture. “He’s your enemy, just like I am, and you let him into you. He is one of us and you betray yourself by fucking him.”

Buffy reacted in anger and punched the scarred woman in the face. “How the hell do you know so much about my business?”

Not bothering to wipe the blood and spittle from her chin the woman merely replied, “The world is small and you’re big within it. Whether we really care or not, some of us can’t help but hear about you. Kind of like tabloids---a waste of space but someone’s buying ‘em.”

“Tabloids. Maybe it’s just called nosiness.” In different circumstances Buffy would have laughed at the dryly spoken assertion, but this was not one of those circumstances.

Dropping her defensive stance the vampiress shifted her form, showing her other face. “Afraid not Buffy.”

Looking at the human visage of the vampiress Buffy hated to hear and see how human she was becoming. Just hearing her name spoken by the demon creeped her out---but only because of the tiredness and weary acceptance that came with it.

It sounded nothing like the voices of the vampires that she staked regularly in Sunnydale. Those spoke with single-minded tendencies of destruction and mayhem, unlike this one.

Despite the murky darkness Buffy could see that once this woman had been very beautiful. Her eyes were a pure green, while her hair was so blonde that it shone white, at least the parts that were not as dirty did. The side of her face that was unmarked was flawless. Buffy could understand what would make a man want this woman.

What she didn’t understand is how a man could want to destroy her beauty.

Her attention was quickly held by the vampiress again when she started speaking. “All the fellas down here want a taste of you now. Before they just wanted you dead, but now they want to do you before that.”

Shock made Buffy’s face twist in a grimace of disgust. “DO ME?! That is SO gross!”

Crossing her arms across her chest the woman mirthlessly smiled. “Is it? After all, you willingly lay down with the most vicious vampire that’s ever walked the earth. Can you blame a man for wanting?”

Buffy’s features became cold and drawn. “You’re really trying to make this personal, aren’t you?”

“No. Even though I hate what you stand for, and even though I know you’re going to probably kill me, I think that you should know what’s stirring up around you.”

“What I do with Angelus or don’t do with him is my business.”

“Angelus is it? You should hear how soft your voice gets when you say the Scourge’s name.” Crudely spitting a mouthful of blood on the ground between them she snarled, “It’s disgusting.”

“Disgusting?! It’s not as disgusting as what you do! I don’t go around killing people---“

“I’m selective---only the scum Slayer.”

“Scum? Something that rings familiar, perhaps?”, Buffy asked with false sweetness.

“Pimps, psychos, drug dealers---those sound like upright citizens to you?” Not waiting for Buffy to respond she coldly stated, “They deserve to die.”

“Says who? You can’t go around deciding who lives and dies!”

“But you can? You can decide that I deserve to die because I’m not human like you?”

Sidestepping the question that suddenly made Buffy uncomfortable, and took her to a place she'd rather not think about, she asserted, “You were trying to kill that prostitute when I came in here.”

“Through mercy Slayer.” Keeping her gaze on Buffy she said, “She’s still there. If I was randomly feeding, don’t you think she would’ve left by now?”

Buffy’s gaze slid against the littered wall and realized that she was right. The painfully thin prostitute was still slumped against the bricks, blankly watching them both.

“Is she high? Is that why she hasn’t run?”

“She’s beyond high Slayer. She’s ready to die.”

“How do you know?”

Laughing with a brittle edge to it, the vampiress answered, “Take a look around! What do you see? Does this look like the pretty suburbs where you come from? Nobody lives here---they merely exist until the end.”

Without even removing her gaze from the street-walker, Buffy could see the truth of the vampiress’ words. Track marks obscenely ran all along the stick-like arms, while deep, mottled bruises flashed sickly against the pastiness of her sallow skin and torn stockings.

Peering into the poor soul’s face Buffy mentally peeled back the outer signs of a hard life and saw that the woman was no woman at all, but merely a girl.

Drawing back Buffy whispered, “She’s no older than me.”

Walking to stand next to Buffy the vampiress didn’t flinch when the Slayer spun and held her stake threateningly. Looking away from her instead, the vampiress looked down at the huddled girl. An unmistakable note of sadness entered her voice as she said, “She’s only 14 and she’s been out here for three years.”

Horror flitted across Buffy’s expression as she said in a shocked voice, “But that would mean she was 11! Why? Where’s her mom, her dad?! How could she have survived out here---“

“She hasn’t Slayer. That’s why she’s ready to end it. Only the strong survive---heard that cliché? What it should be is that only the heartless conquer.” Looking into Buffy’s face without the slightest hint of fear the vampiress ruthlessly stated, “She came to me and you’re either going to stake me now or you’re going to let me do this.”

Lowering her stake slightly Buffy shook her head. “I can’t let you do that. No matter how bad her life is, she can’t really know what she’s saying." Stumbling she tried to rationalize the situation. "She’s high…and…there’s got to be help…school…something.”

Crossing her arms in an obvious insolent gesture the blonde stranger sarcastically said, “Oh that’s right! All she needs to do is join the cheerleading squad and maybe even chorus and then everything will alright!”

“I didn’t say that!”, Buffy sharply retorted.

“Look Slayer, there’s a world out there that you haven’t even BEGUN to see. You think Sunnydale is as bad as it gets?”

“Gee, let me think on that. Vampires, monsters, Hellmouth, Apocalypse at least once a year--- nah, I guess it’s not such a bad town,” Buffy sarcastically replied.

Snorting in disdain the vampiress replied, “What you’ve got in Sunnydale are Posers, pure and simple. Not ALL vampires are like those you deal with. The Hellmouth, I’ll give you that one, but the world has survived without you before. You became a Slayer, what, a year ago?”

“Almost two.”

“I’ve got underwear older than you.”

“Okay, that’s gross and not the kind of thing I’d be proud of telling people.”

“No, the fact that I’ve got underwear is something that not many people here have, and THAT fact should gross you out. The way people live here and in so many parts of the world should gross you out.” Shaking her head in disgust she pointed an adamant finger in Buffy’s direction. “See that’s why I say you’ve got a lot to learn. That superficial, immature mentality tells me that what you’ve faced is NOTHING compared to what’s out in the real world.”

Staring at the stranger’s angered face Buffy could feel a sting of truth hit her. She defensively said, “Maybe you’re right, but I’ve done the best I could. It’s not like I’ve had practice before the real thing---I’ve had to learn as I go along. And maybe I don’t everything, but what I do know is that death is not the answer!”

"You mean HUMAN death isn't the answer, right?"

"I protect people from those who are trying to cause their deaths. Vampires are the ones that cause them, even you."

Silently the vampiress absorbed Buffy’s impassioned words before quietly replying, “You mean what you say; I can see that. That’s why I don’t understand why you’ve become a---“

“DON’T say it,” Buffy coldly cut in.

“Plaything for him,” she substituted instead. Cocking her head to the side she mused, “Angel I can understand, but not him.”

“You knew of Angel?”

“Of him and I knew him, for a little while.”

“How?”

Jerking her head back the vampiress answered, “When he bought his building a block up. I met him then.”

Buffy let out a sound of dismay. Running a hand across her forehead she looked up into the dismal night sky. Distantly she noticed that she couldn’t see any stars. She knew they were there, but she couldn’t see them.

It was kind of like Angel. She learned of this hidden part of his life, knew it was there, but she couldn’t see it.

Suddenly a low scraping sound broke the silence. Looking back at the human girl Buffy didn’t have to strain to hear the near breathless sound of her voice. Glancing at the vampiress Buffy could see the full attention she was giving to the young girl.

“Elissa…I…I…” The voice faded into nothing again as the girl struggled to stand up.

Buffy went to help when she felt a hand firmly hold her back. Frowning in anger she opened her mouth to pertly tell the now-named Elissa what she could do with her hand, when she was firmly hushed by one desperate glance.

“What is it Tiny T?”, Elissa gently asked.

The oddness of the girl’s name emphasized that she was from the streets, and her real name was of no importance in this world. Just as she must feel everyday…

Several moments of silence passed before Tiny T hoarsely said, “Not today.”

Buffy knew what she meant and immediately felt a rush of relief. She was not ready to die, not yet. Just as quickly as the relief came, it fled. What was there for Tiny T to look forward to? The next high, the next john? The next person who beat the crap out of her?

“Alright. Remember, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.” There was great compassion in the softly spoken words. So much so that Buffy found it hard to believe that it could come from a vampire.

The girl didn’t say a word in response; she just shuffled out of the alley on her thin, childlike legs. Buffy felt a tightness in her chest and a burning in her eyes. How many more were there like Tiny T?

Suddenly she understood why Angel had chosen this place and why he knew Elissa.

“Alright Slayer---are we going to finish this?”

Elissa’s voice held no fear; in fact it was emotionless except for regret. Buffy could hear the note of regret and understood why.

“Go.” Buffy gritted her teeth until her jaw ached. This went against everything Giles taught her, it went against everything the Council had instructed them to do, but somehow it felt like it was the only thing to do.

Elissa did not have to be told twice. Silently she slid away, melting in the shadows until there was nothing left to suggest she had ever been there.

Frustrated Buffy kicked at a fallen crate. Her one kick had been enough to virtually disintegrate the old wood. Letting out a long breath Buffy felt even more confused than she had when she started this.

Vampires were evil. Period.

Demons were in possession of the human body, the soul being forever gone.

Vampires knew no joy except those of destruction and pain.

So why was Elissa different? Angel had his soul but Elissa was not Angel.

Walking out of the alleyway Buffy turned towards Angel’s block. There was no use in putting this off any further.

I haven’t done anything except try to keep my world from falling apart---and that doesn’t seem to be working anymore.

The thought echoed in Buffy’s mind as she strode towards Angel’s past and intended future. The streets were empty and silent but she could clearly hear the sound of her own heartbeat.

Suddenly there it was.

Looking up she could see that it looked like any of the other dilapidated shells that surrounded it, but without seeing the address Buffy knew that this was Angel’s. Taking a breath she strode towards the large metal doorway and tried the handle. It was locked. Although she could have easily forced it, she respected the lock and what it stood for.

Others might not have as much respect for what was his as she would, so it was better to keep the lock on.

Walking to the side of the building Buffy peered up and saw there were no fire escapes. However, a window on the third story had a ledge that had yet to crumble away. Tensing her muscles she doubted if she could have made the jump before, but she knew she could now.

With a springing coil of muscles Buffy released herself into the air and found that the ledge wouldn’t hold her for more than a few seconds. Drawing her elbow back Buffy broke the window and dove in, hoping that there would be a floor and not just empty air.

Landing with a thud Buffy coughed as a blanket of dust rose in the air. Surveying the enormous room she saw an empty space that was broken by several large pillars. Cautiously standing up she tested the floor with a foot and was satisfied that it was sound.

Making her way around the room Buffy took it all in. It was nearly pitch-black, but she was able to see that although the windows were filthy, the only one that was broken was the one she broke. Deciding to find the staircase Buffy walked towards the entryway when she abruptly stopped.

There amidst the dust and darkness was a pair of footprints. Coming towards them Buffy held her breath. Peering closely at them she knew that they belonged to Angel. Not Angelus. Letting out her breath she bent down and reverently touched them, not wanting to disturb their outline.

Covering her mouth with a hand Buffy let out a strangled sob. Where these the last footsteps he had left here? What had he been thinking that unknown night?

Had he been thinking of her?

Sitting there next to his footsteps Buffy felt an agony of pain go through her. “Angel,” she sadly whispered. Tears ran down her face and dripped onto the prints below. Horror went through her as she saw that her tears had eroded the fragile prints. Standing up Buffy hiccupped as she irrationally grieved for what she had done.

I did it again. I destroyed what he was, what is left of him.

The dam burst and her grief for Angel came out. “Angel…Angel…I miss you…” she noisily cried in the silence with her head bent down.

Abruptly the atmosphere changed. A tight fist of achy tension gripped her stomach and a hunger flared through her breast. Lifting her head up Buffy left the prints and walked through the doorway into the yawning darkness beyond.

Stopping at a railing Buffy leaned over and peered below, her tears still flowing while she hiccuped uncontrollably.

Standing on the main floor was Angelus and by the expression on his face he had heard her every cry, her every tear.

And Buffy didn't care.

"Come down lover," he gently called.

Buffy stood there for the briefest of moments before turning away and heading back into the enormous room.

Angelus' eyes grew mean with fury as he whispered, "Fine then. I guess I'll have to come up to you."

Idly he toyed with the idea of leaping up to the third floor, grabbing his disobedient girl by the back of the head, and throwing her on the ground, but surprisingly he changed his mind. Instead he chose to take a more traditional method---step by step.

Staring into the dark nothingness Buffy heard each of Angelus’ measured steps and mentally cringed. She supposed that was the point. Not bothering to wipe the tears from her face she blocked out the ominous sounds of doom that he created and thought about Angel instead.

Alone in the darkness she wondered what he had planned on doing with this space. Curiously walking the empty floors with a bizarre nonchalance, Buffy’s hiccups subsided until they disappeared all together.

It’d make a great room for sparring.

Drawing in a deep breath Buffy wiped her eyes free of tears. She could hear Angelus’ measured and deliberately heavy steps, but instead of inspiring fear they simply inspired a numbed sense of calm.

“It’s apt that you picked the third floor darling. It sorta symbolizes us, don’t you think lover? There’s me…you…and Angel. Always Angel.”

Angelus’ voice pleasantly floated up from the darkness, mocking her with a casual cruelness even as his footsteps deliberately made their way up.

“What do you expect Angelus? Just because you don’t want him to exist, doesn’t mean he doesn’t.” Buffy’s voice reflected his own tone, false with a sweetness that could not exist in truth between them both.

The steps suddenly stopped. “Is that so?” Angelus merely sounded curious, but Buffy knew him well enough to know that his ego suffered immensely at the reminder of the man he used to be.

Walking towards a dirt-encrusted window Buffy laid her hands against the sill and leaned forward, trying to see what kind of view Angel would have had. Without raising her voice she commented, “That’s so.” She knew Angelus would be able to hear her smallest whisper; there was no doubt that she did not have his fullest attention.

If anything he was listening to her every word, just so he could find a way to punish her.

That’s what he did and this was how she played into it.

Letting out a disgusted breath Buffy wondered how this time the night would play out the dramas that defined their unnatural attachment.

Listening through the darkness she could not hear Angelus but that did not mean that he was still on the same step. Turning around she leaned up against the window and asked, “So, what did he want to do with this place?”

Silence.

“What? You don’t want to tell me?” she taunted.

Silence.

“Don’t be shy now Angelus---not after you were so eager to spill it the other night!”

Silence.

A mirthless smile tugged at Buffy’s lips. Pushing away from the wall she casually strolled around the room, deliberately making her steps loud and measured. “I don’t hate him. Betcha didn’t expect that, did you Angelus?” Tapping her chin with one finger Buffy mused, “I bet you thought that I’d hate Angel, that I’d be SO petty, SO shallow, that I’d erase him from my heart.”

Silence.

Keeping sight of the door she sighed loudly before saying, “Maybe, that’s not completely it---or it at all. You don’t care about my heart, do you Angelus?” A bitter light entered her eyes as she revised her words. “Other than to break it, that is.”

Silence.

“Well you know what, I guess I don’t care much about my heart either. I can’t if I let someone like you in.”

Expectantly she awaited a response from the vampire who waited below, but she waited in vain.

“I found out a lot tonight---about Angel that is. And I have you to thank for it.” Staring at the inky doorway Buffy did not see a hint of Angelus. The tight threat of desire faded a bit, and Buffy realized that her throat did not pulse with the longing of him.

Perhaps he had left?

Placing her hands in her back pockets she rocked back on her heels a bit and threw out, “What was the point of coming here Angelus? To see me fall apart? To hear me cry? Did it make you feel good, lover?”

Silence.

Pulling her hands out of her pockets Buffy felt a frown knit itself between her brows. “I’m done. I’ve seen it, I know about it, and now I’m done.” Striding towards the doorway Buffy knew that she had probably pushed Angelus too far, but it seemed that this was the role she would play.

Entering the hallway Buffy’s eyes flickered through the darkened shadows and noted that Angelus was indeed still on the stairway, halfway between herself and the bottom floor. Indolently he leaned against the crumbling plastered wall. Lifting his lips in a smirk he asked, “Finished yet lover?” Yawning slightly he casually stated, “I almost didn’t make it through your fascinatingsoliloquy.”

Coming to the large railing that ran along the walkway Buffy coldly said, “You’re such a charming bastard Angelus.”

In the near dark she could see a glimpse of dangerously sharp teeth and his smile. “And you’re such a whining bitch,” Angelus pleasantly responded.

Laughing harshly Buffy reasoned, “Then there’s no point to stay in each other’s company any longer, is there?”

“There wouldn’t be, other than the fact that so far you’ve been an interesting fuck---so far,” Angelus replied with heavy boredom.

Clenching her fists tightly Buffy felt a fury flare up inside of her. She hated him for making her feel this way, but she hated herself more for taking it. A haunting flash of violence splashed across her mind, brutally showing Buffy would happen if she kept him away from her or kept her feelings away from them both.

Evenly she asked, “Why do you say things like that? Is it to remind me of my place in your life---or is it to remind yourself?”

Arching his brow Angelus whistled. “Trying to take things to a deeper level, babe?” Chuckling he murmured, “Hmm…why do I say those things?” Crossing his arms he insolently tapped one finger against his chin. “Why do I?”

Disgusted Buffy no longer cared to hear his answer, knowing that it would pain her even more than she might be able to deal with. With most couples, once a declaration of love was given, cuddling could ensue the next time they were with each other, or blatant avoidance, but not this verbal sparring.

The fighting and anger was all that would ever be between herself and Angelus. It was madness that they continued like this. Now more than ever she understood it.

“It doesn’t matter Angelus, don’t bother answering.”

“Maybe I want to answer,” he stated with dark playfulness.

“We don’t always get what we want,” she noted with a touch of cynicism.

“I do.”

Staring across the darkness Buffy saw his words as no boast, but the hard truth. “Lucky you.” Despite his relaxed posture she knew that if she attempted to walk past him, he’d block her path. That only left two options---the window or air.

She chose air.

Gripping the banister with both hands Buffy kicked off with her feet and leapt into the nothingness. For a split second she wondered at the risk of making such a dramatic exit, but a large rush of adrenaline suddenly pumped through her body---making it all worth it.

Landing below with a decided thud, Buffy quickly scanned around to see if Angelus had followed. He had not. Peering across the long entryway she saw glimpses of the weak night light filtering in. Narrowing her eyes in slight anger she realized that Angelus had broken the lock.

Walking towards the door Buffy was suddenly lifted off her feet and spun in the air. Automatically placing her hands on Angelus’ broad shoulders she wondered at what head game he was playing now.

“Are you finally finished? Your conscience feel better now that you said your piece?” he flippantly asked as he spun her around the room.

Not giving Buffy a chance to answer Angelus stopped spinning only to press her tightly against himself. Kissing the tip of her nose he amusedly murmured, “Now that we got that out of the way for tonight…I wanted to answer you rude and silly child!”

Cautiously Buffy asked, “Answer what?” As much as she distrusted this playful side of Angelus, she couldn’t help but wish she saw this side of him more often.

“The Why Do I Say The Things I Do Question.”

“You don’t have to.”

“There’s a lot of things in life that I don’t have to do---but I do them anyways.” Letting her down he walked away but not before lightly warning her, “Now don’t you go running away my darling.”

Standing there transfixed Buffy did not want to even attempt to guess at what would occur next.

Walking away into the darkness Angelus left Buffy in the dark and dilapidated room and wickedly smiled when he heard her heartbeat quicken.

Strolling back towards her Angelus held one arm behind his back. He could see that she was wary of what he had, of what he was doing, and he liked it. Coming to a stop before her small figure Angelus gently said, “Close your eyes.”

Just as gently Buffy replied, “I don’t think so.”

Laughing softly he drawled, “What? Don’t trust me?”

“In a word: no.”

“For shame Slayer, have I lied to you yet? Have I turned on you, like you have on me?” Watching her face blanche Angelus laughed again.

Settling her pained eyes upon him she whispered, “You know that I didn’t mean to. You said that just to hurt me.”

“I did. Which brings me to The Question.” Running one cool hand down her soft cheek he repeated, “Close your eyes.”

Buffy slowly shut her lids and waited in tense anticipation. In the ensuing silence she was aware of many things, but most of all she was aware of the scent, sound, and touch of Angelus. He burned into her with a dark possessiveness, invading and taking residence within all of her unspoken desires.

When she felt a velvet softness run down her throat Buffy lightly jumped. Angelus immediately spoke to soothe her. “Shhh…don’t move lover. That’s right…stay still and keep your eyes closed.”

A giggle unwillingly crossed her pressed lips as the sensation ran closer to her collarbone. “I make you laugh, do I?” he purred.

“Not my fault…it’s just that it…TICKLES!” Buffy laughed a little louder this time.

“I like to hear you laugh.” His voice was suddenly as soft and gentle as the unknown pressure on her throat.

Swallowing slightly Buffy felt a sadness claim her. “That’s not true. Whatever it is that we have here, you don’t have to lie.” Lifting her chin defiantly she muttered, “You’ve made it clear that you want me to suffer.”

Shifting his hand Angelus moved closer to her small ear. “Your misery is not all I want darling.” Buffy felt the velvet brush across her lips, slowly back and forth, and shuddered. “I want all of you---your laughter, your tears…your moans.”

She felt a jolt go through her veins as fierce lust awakened. A hundred images seared through her mind, until all that was left was them: herself, Angelus, and Passion.

Always Passion.

“I say the things I do because it pleases me. I say the things I do because in the end---it pleases you.”

Buffy’s eyes flew open in shock. “Pleases me? It DOES NOT please me for you to treat me like any whore!”

“That’s such a nasty word to come from your sweet mouth lover. I DO NOT like it.” Angelus firmly laid a crimson rose against Buffy’s lips, silencing her from speaking, while his brows drew together in a fierce scowl.

“I don’t treat you like any whore---I treat you like MY whore.”

Pushing his hand away from her mouth Buffy spit out, “And you’ve made me the biggest ho in the vamp community! Now every vampire out there wants to screw me!”

Grabbing her wrist in one unforgiving grip Angelus coldly asked, “What are you talking about Buffy?”

“I’m talking about how now that everyone on your side of the tracks knows about us, they all think that I’d fuck them too!”

“Why do you say that?”

The menace in Angelus’ face made a quiver of fear pierce through Buffy’s fury. “The word spreads and I found out.”

The sight of Buffy’s battle with the scarred vampiress raised itself in Angelus’ mind. “Elissa told you, didn’t she?”

“Maybe,” she obstinately replied.

“That bitch!” Angelus pushed Buffy slightly and stalked away. It was the ugly truth and what was even uglier was how much it bothered him. Of course she was his trophy, and of course he wanted the world at large to envy his power, but for the world to in turn make his mistress feel slighted?

Slayer or not, she was HIS.

His to mistreat, his to glorify, his to punish, his to pamper. Princess and whore were titles that only he had the right to place upon her head of gold, not anyone else.

Get a hold of yourself, my boy. Don’t let all of this be for naught. Besides, that blight of a vampire is gone. Buffy staked her.

Turning around he purposely kept his pace relaxed and slow. A small smile twisted his firm mouth as he walked back to Buffy. Placing the rose in her hand he then engulfed it in his own, lightly cradling it so that the sting of thorns did not pierce her flesh. “She’s ash in the alley, so she won’t be able to spoil your thoughts any more.”

Buffy almost told him otherwise but something stopped her. Quietly she stood there, awaiting to hear what mercurial change of mood would fall upon them both, ever wary of the thorns in her hand.

“How did you know about her? How did you know that I fought her tonight?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Leaning down Angelus roughly caught Buffy’s lips with his own. Tasting the sweetness that was the Slayer inspired a terrible lust for her blood. Pulling back he practically growled, “They may want you, but they can’t have you. I defend and keep what’s mine---“

Passion did not make her words any less vehement as she hotly broke in. “I can take care of myself! I’m not worried about what some horny vamp may want to do.”

Angelus smiled as she strongly defended her fighting abilities. She was a prideful little pet tonight and it amused him.

“Of course you can Slayer, there’s no doubt of that. The real question is are you worried about what THIS horny vamp wants to do to you?” Keeping his hand on hers Angelus easily lifted Buffy up into his arms and lightly danced about the empty, dank room. Quietly humming a tune that only he knew Angelus swirled them about, his steps those of a time long past.

As the minutes passed Buffy clung more and more tightly to the beast masquerading as a man. The music of his mind filled the building, and a dark magic began to settle over them both.

His black gaze burned through hers, the silent possessiveness stronger than ever. It was as if her declaration of love had binded not only her to him, but him to her. Like a mournful specter Buffy’s heart spoke within.

If only he loved me as Angel did…

Quickly pulling her mind away from such dangerous thoughts Buffy intensely focused on the mysterious beauty of the moment. Around and around they danced, his feet picking up speed while hers flew through the air.

Angelus’ hand was ever cautious of Buffy’s, gentle in pressure, while the rose’s thorns lay harmlessly against her skin. His gentleness was seductive in its own right and was proving to be Buffy’s undoing. Laying her head back she closed her eyes and felt the world pass by. The dizzying swirl of the room added to the exhilaration of being in his strong arms. The feel of his black clothes against her own made Buffy want to feel his cold flesh.

It frightened her how easily she was forgetting the questions of the past and how easily she was accustoming herself to the madness of the moment.

The room came to an abrupt halt. Pressed tightly against Angelus Buffy could hear her breath echo throughout the darkness as a confusing swirl of lust and wariness flowed through her veins. Looking up into his achingly handsome face Buffy felt the pull between them, a pull that never existed between herself and Angel.

Suddenly he squeezed her hand, forcing the thorns to puncture her flesh.

Buffy’s astonished cries of pain flooded through the room for only a second before being swallowed by Angelus’ voracious kisses. Releasing her body, but being mindful of where she landed, he released his cruel hold, keeping his lips on hers. Raising her hand to his mouth before she could pull away, Angelus dropped the rose and crushed it beneath his heel.

Turning his dark head, Angelus moaned with depraved delight as he lapped at the torn flesh while Buffy looked on with sick fascination. Feeling her gaze upon him he hotly declared, “Your pain keeps you malleable Buff. Your pain allows you to feel all of me. That’s why I say and do the things I do with us.”

As twisted as his reasoning sounded Buffy could feel a certain grain of truth rub her skin raw. Even now she could feel a loosening in her belly and in her limbs. While the pain had been terrible, there was a certain pleasure in having Angelus soothe her with his mouth. Glancing at her wounded hand she saw a flicker of his tongue before the wounds closed.

Standing up to his full height Angelus tipped Buffy’s chin. “It’s been two nights darling since I’ve heard you moan your love for me.” The shudder that racked her body did not go unnoticed. With careful and confident movements Angelus stepped back from Buffy and slid off his leather duster.

Reaching up he casually flicked open the buttons of his burgundy silk shirt before pulling it out of the waistband of his pants. “Two nights too long.”

Silently she slid the jacket she wore off her shoulders before kicking off her shoes as well. Angelus noted her movements only with an arrogant twist of his well-shaped lips. Buffy then reached up and let her hair down, allowing the pins to drop harmlessly to the battered floor. Taking her sweater off was not as graceful as she would have liked; the neck had a bit of trouble sliding off her head but eventually it came off.

Not wanting to see any mocking amusement on Angelus’ face at her lack of finesse, Buffy bent her head as she unbuttoned her pants. They slid off easily as well as her socks. Looking up she watched as Angelus removed his pants and stood there completely nude. His arousal blatantly stood away from his muscular physique, boldly proclaiming his desire for her.

Keeping her gaze upon his Buffy reached around her body and removed the sports bra, before hooking her fingers in the waistband of her thong. She bent at the waist as she slid them down before stepping out of the tiny scrap of fabric.

Straightening Buffy stood there in the silence of the dark, her sight riveted on the body across from her. A bolt of lust shot through her along with a longing so intense that her face twisted in a grimace of pain. The longing had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with love.

It was ironic in the cruelest way of life.

With Angel she had all the assurance of the heart, but very little of the physical. The kisses they shared had only emphasized the incompleteness of their complete expression of love. With Angelus she had the physical, but none of the heart. With both men she had been incomplete and traitor that she was, the memories of her flesh were beginning to fray at the memories of her love.

At least when she was with Angelus.

“Come here.” The low words beguiled her with promises of passion and pleasure so strongly that Buffy had no desire to ignore them this time. Slowly she felt her feet cross the space that separated them. Once she reached him she laid her hands on his chest and stood on tiptoe to reach his mouth. Hungrily she kissed him, no gentle brushing of the lips or teasing of the tongue, but a full mating of the mouth.

Angelus’ thick and heavy arousal pressed against her, silently attesting that even if she did not have his love, she had his desire. Quickly he lifted her, settling his hands beneath her arms, and ran his mouth and tongue over her neck and throat. Buffy gasped before shivering with aching need.

Holding her aloft Angelus saw that her nipples were taut with desire. Needing to feel them in his mouth he settled his lips hungrily over one breast before alternating to the other, delighting in her mewls of satisfaction.

Suspended in the air Buffy leaned her head back and wantonly pressed her chest into Angelus’ face. Although she was drowning in pleasure she was unsatisfied---she needed more.

Sensing Buffy’s yawning hunger Angelus lifted her higher until his arms were fully extended. Nuzzling the soft fur that lay between her thighs he then boldly licked the hidden lips that awaited his tawdry kiss.

“Aahh…aaahhh…aahh.” The cries rang throughout the building as Buffy’s hips arched greedily against his mouth, wanting surcease to the torment of arousal, but craving more and more of such heavenly bliss.

She couldn’t get close enough to him and therein lay the torture.

“Wrap your legs around my neck.” His words were muffled against her hot flesh, in themselves causing her more distress because he was forced to stop caressing her.

Buffy’s thighs shook from the intense need that racked her body. Even so, she obliged her lover and soon was torn away from all thoughts but those of the flesh. Angelus’ tongue drove deep within, separating her folds, leaving nothing that did not feel the carnal sweetness of his kiss.

“Your pussy tastes so good,” he rasped against her.

Lick.

“Cum for me baby…cum for me,” he darkly commanded.

Suck.

“I want to taste your sweetness…cum for me lover.”

Buffy’s eyes were barely open as they hazily looked down. Watching the rawness of Angelus tasting her so intimately was a heady thrill. His head was moving with an intentness that mimicked the actions of his mouth. Moaning loudly she felt bereft without the complete touch of his body against hers. Even so, she would not deny her lover anything. He wanted her to cum on his mouth…cum she would.

Sharp need threaded together, fusing into a cord of aching want as Buffy’s back arched. The pressure of Angelus’ lips made her want to die of sheer ecstasy because he no longer teasingly licked her with his tongue. Instead, he pursed his lips around her clit, and sucked with just enough pressure to keep from being a gentle coaxing of release.

Immediately Buffy’s body stiffened as the sharp climax tore through her, vocalizing itself through broken cries of physical joy. “Oh yes! Yes! Angelus…oh Angelus!” Time itself seemed to stop as Buffy was suspended in a world that he built---one that she did not want to leave.

Angelus gave a growl of approval as he quickly shifted her slack limbs from around his neck. Automatically her legs entwined themselves about his lean hips while she held onto his broad shoulders. Pressing herself tightly against his body Buffy wantonly kissed his neck and mewled her need.

Without any teasing or taunting Angelus nudged her wet flesh with his cock before driving straight in. They both groaned with sexual delight as he filled Buffy completely, her joy obvious despite the small amount of pain he caused her. Tender lovers might have experienced the need to examine and enjoy the initial feelings of joining, but Buffy and Angelus were anything but tender.

Drawing his hips back he forcefully drove into her, delighting in her cry of dark satisfaction.

“Say it,” he ruthlessly growled before placing his arm across her back, crushing her against him.

Buffy knew exactly what Angelus wanted. Entwining her arms about his neck she breathed, “I love you.” She refused to think about the travesty of her words being spoken to such a dangerous and unremorseful vampire, she refused to think about how traitorous those words were in light of where she was---she just refused to think at all.

Instead she felt.

Buffy felt with every nerve and muscle in her body, the most strongest of all being her vulnerable and fragile heart. In light of seeing that Angel had a life planned that did not include her at all, she felt as if she had lost a part of a dream. And the dream was a life that had not, in all parts, really existed.

As she had told Angelus, she did not hate Angel at all. She truly understood why he would do it, but that did not make the hurt go away. Up until her birthday Buffy had a future planned in her heart, and it was one that could not exist without Angel. To know that his plans were not patterned after THEM, but rather HIM hurt.

And that’s why she could block out the logic of knowing that declaring love for a monster made her even more of one than he was.

Angelus’ purr of pleasure at those misplaced tragic words of love sent shivers throughout her body. Biting his neck sharply Buffy delighted at the feeling of his large hands squeezing her ass in response. Releasing his newly bruised flesh she sighed, “I love you.”

Angelus’ only answer was to capture her lips with his and fill her mouth as completely as he filled her body. Against his mouth she moaned, “I love you.” His growl of satisfaction clearly echoed throughout the building.

She ripped her mouth away and panted loudly. Gripping him tightly with her thighs Buffy rose up before sliding down. She was so hungry for him that she did not await for his lead as she usually did. “Aaahh…” she moaned, wanting this to never end.

Grasping her tightly Angelus obliged her fierce need and thrust up forcefully, shaking her tiny body with the strength of his motions.

Alone in the abandoned building Buffy and Angelus mated with each other, their bodies’ passion furious in a way that was almost nonsensically tender. Although he slammed her against a wall, his lust-fogged vision had checked for any nails or debris that might pierce the smooth skin of her back beforehand. She, on the other hand, had already made sure while disrobing that the cross she wore lay behind her neck, instead of on it.

Things between them had definitely changed and although neither would acknowledge the change in direct words, it was there nonetheless in their actions and deeds.

Looking up into his black gaze Buffy saw not a vampire, nor a beast, but a man.

A man drowning in passion. For her.

The thought brought forth a low moan from the depths of her body. She needed him so badly that she couldn’t get close enough. Clawing his back with desperate hands, Buffy pressed herself so tight that a mortal man would have lost his breath, but not this man.

Never this man.

Kissing her deeply Angelus closed his eyes from the deep overwhelming pleasure. Every time he was in her, it was never enough. By this point he would have thought that boredom would be an issue, a slight ennui perhaps, but it had yet to happen. With Buffy the joys of the flesh seemed to grow, not diminish.

And he had yet to really introduce her to the perversities of sex.

But even so, the feast of what was her body fascinated him, in spite of the conservative nature of their play.

Rubbing his hands over the back of her thighs, Angelus delighted in the sounds of her pants. Grasping her tightly he turned so that they then tumbled onto the floor. Raising himself on his forearms, he looked down so that he could watch his cock plunge into her wet depths.

Lustfully gazing at the erotic sight they were making Angelus knew that his gift would be perfect.

Buffy ran her hands down his chest, allowing the tips of her fingers to lightly scratch the smooth surface of his cool skin. Drawing her legs high about his back she sighed with bliss as she arched her body.

Her back was dirty, bits of debris were getting entangled in her hair, but she did not care.

As the aching knot in her loins grew tighter and tighter Buffy knew that she would never be able to escape the drug of his passion. The closer she came to the pinnacle, the more she knew that with each physical release within his arms, the more enslaved she would become.

Even now she wanted to feel him pierce her with his fangs. The blood beat savagely throughout her body, demanding to nourish her lover, making her feel hot and achy in a way that could only be described as bloodlust. She needed to have Angelus sink his teeth into her; she yearned to feel her very blood spurt into his mouth.

Buffy was well and truly caught and she knew that there was no going back.

Suddenly she felt Angelus leave her body and gave out a cry of distress. Without thought she sat up and murmured, “No, no…not yet.”

Angelus’ lips twisted in smirk of male triumph. Leaning forward he caught her lips with his in a carnal kiss while tunneling his hand through her hair. Pulling back he playfully whispered, “I have something for you.”

Buffy’s brows knitted themselves in a slight frown as she looked at Angelus. Seeing her expression he laughed softly and asked, “What? Still don’t trust me?”

Despite the passion that clamored hotly in her veins Buffy answered a bit cynically, “Is there a reason for me to? I think not.”

A thick brow arched up in false surprise as Angelus stated, “You don’t trust me, but you still fuck me. Interesting.”

Buffy felt a blush of shame tinge her cheeks and ears as she heard the blunt truth. It took all her force of will not to look away. “This is different. You know what you hold over my head.”

“I hold something over your pretty little head?”

“You know you do! My friends---“

“Come now, lover. You don’t really believe that’s why you spread your legs for me, do you?” he mockingly broke in. Leaning closer he wickedly licked the corner of her mouth before breathing, “Is that how you justify it to yourself as you wash my cum off your body in the morning?”

Jerking back Buffy felt the landscape shift, leaving her unsure of what was happening.

Observing the emotions running across her beautiful face Angelus decided to leave off baiting her. Lithely standing up he walked to his discarded duster and reached into a pocket, before pulling out a plain, rectangular box. Strolling over to Buffy he noted that her eyes were wide with wary curiosity.

Settling himself back on the ground he ordered her to, “Stand up.”

Buffy stared at him for a few seconds before slowly obeying him. Angelus leaned forward and gave the flesh between her wet curls a brief, but deep lick. Chuckling at the start of pleasured surprise that trembled through her slender body he said, “Good girl.”

Buffy whipped her head down and stared at him with obvious frustration. “I’m not a dog.”

Smirking Angelus thought, No, you’re not a dog Buff---but you’ll get to play the part of being one. Later. Instead he casually opened the box and lifted the white velvet case out. Glancing up he saw that Buffy’s eyes were riveted on his hands. Reading the emotions in her gaze he noted the ever-present wariness but he also saw a small glimmer of burgeoning joy.

Holding the case in one hand he lifted open the lid and waited for Buffy’s squeal of feminine delight. It did not come.

Looking up he saw that she looked shocked, her stare that of incomprehension.

She should be shocked. This little bauble had cost him a pretty penny---it was worth more than the quaint house she lived in. It had been a bit more difficult to acquire this piece since it was not of the norm; in fact he had paid a handsome sum to have it quickly made for her.

Lifting the long strands of jewel-encrusted gold Angelus fitted one around her waist and admired the beauty of his gift. Small, yet perfect, blue sapphires winked through the barely lit darkness, each one held snugly in a sturdy gold link.

Breaking the silence he stated with strong pleasure, “You look quite delicious Slayer.”

Reaching down with one hand Buffy fingered the chain in bemusement. “Is this mine?”

“Whose else would it be?”

Without greed she wondered in curiosity, “Is it real?”

Looking at her in offense, Angelus indignantly replied, “Of course it is.” Standing up he lifted one of her hands and held it aloft. “Turn around.”

Buffy allowed herself to be twirled, the feeling of the chain foreign and cold. Looking over her shoulder she asked, “Why are you giving this to me?”

Keeping his eyes riveted on the lovely contrast of her skin and the jewels he absently murmured, “Why shouldn’t I? You’re my girl, aren’t you?”

At hearing the phrase my girl, Buffy felt a well of sorrow spring in her heart and pierce through the veil of forgetfulness. Although she tried to hide it from Angelus, his observant eyes swiftly caught and read what she was feeling. “Something make you sad, sweetheart?” Not giving her a chance to answer he murmured, “Oohh, I know why.” Looking up into the empty room he mused, “I wonder if it’s because we’re in his building…my building actually, but that’s just splitting hairs, isn’t it?”

Turning towards him Buffy laid her hand on his arm and ordered in a low voice, “Stop.”

“Stop what?”

Ripping her hand away she snarled, “Don’t play stupid Angelus!”

Silently he looked down at her and merely waited with a small smile that played about his lips. Looking down at the beautiful chain that linked around her waist Buffy wondered on why he was really giving it to her, but then again, did it matter?

What was the use of questions?

Why had Angelus yet to cut off somebody’s head and laid it on her porch in a nicely wrapped, pretty box? Why had he yet to try to strangle her? Why was she still alive when Angel was gone?

Holding the chain she felt it warm up and the foreign chill was rapidly fading. It really was quite lovely, exotic and mysterious in a way that was completely different to whom she normally was. Buffy Summers, the girlfriend of a gentle soul, could never wear something this luxurious but Buff, the lover of a demon apparently could.

Feeling a portion of the slender links with her thumb and forefinger Buffy hesitatingly admitted, “I—I—want to forget.”

Angelus’ eyes took on a predatory glint as he scented the proverbial kill. “Forget what, lover?”

Looking back into his eyes she murmured, “The past. Everything. It’s like I’m being haunted---“, Buffy abruptly halted in her confession. It was ridiculous to tell Angelus this, but now it seemed that there was no one else better to tell.

After all, who but he knew her dirty secrets? Who but he really knew what it was like to lie and manipulate those around you? Who but he knew that she yearned incessantly to have him?

Who but he understood her pain, even if he was the one who caused it?

Angelus would probably deride her, mock her, and hurt her with it but…

Quickly she rushed out with, “I’m being haunted by him. I’m being haunted by you both! I can’t get the thoughts out of my mind. I take a breath and I find that I can barely breath because of the guilt. I can’t live like this! I can’t keep doing it! I can’t stand knowing what I’ve done to him, and now what I’ve done to you. To know that I’m capable of---”

Releasing her gift she clenched both fists tightly and cried, “I can’t keep on like this.”

Placing both hands on her small yet sturdy shoulders Angelus leaned forward and whispered, “I can make you forget him, darling. I can make you forget your sins.”

Turning her around he kept his hands on her and promised, “I can take the pain away. And I won’t ask for much.” Leaning down he gravely spoke in her ear. “Give me your pride, give me your will, give me your soul---and I’ll give you absolution.”

Angelus’ voice was so seductive in its dramatic demands yet some part of Buffy knew that he could never give her the forgiveness she needed. But for now, maybe this could help. Maybe if she tried hard enough, the pain would lessen and then she could pretend that this was all that she had ever needed.

Leaning her head against the spot where his heart should have been beating, Buffy turned her cheek and tenderly kissed his flesh. “Take it away Angelus, please, take it away.”

The triumph burned brightly in his midnight gaze as he lifted her chin in one hand and kissed her full lips. “I’ll take it away Buff, but we’ll do it by my rules. Do you understand?” Angelus waited several tense moments until she finally nodded her head.

She’s mine now. Completely. She won’t fight me anymore…not really. And soon I’ll have her at my feet.

Pulling away Angelus dangled another chain in the air before bending down to put it on her. “Open your legs,” he softly commanded.

Shifting to widen her stance Buffy felt a spurt of surprise when she felt the cold metal brush against her drying curls. Looking down she saw that the second chain was attached to the first. Feeling his hands on the small of her back Buffy felt rather than heard a “click”.

Standing up to his full height Angelus laid his hand on the curve of her hip and lustfully announced, “Perfect.”

Placing a cautious hand on her mound of curls Buffy saw that the second chain almost bisected its way between her nether lips. Tugging at it self-consciously she looked up at Angelus, but before she could say anything in protest he said, “Don’t fight me on this lover.” Seeing that she was going to speak anyways he warned, “Or are you so ready to embrace your pain alone?”

Tugging the gold links with more force Buffy mutinously charged, “I feel like…I feel like you’ve locked me in chains!”

“I have,” he said with simple finality while laying his hand over hers, effectively stopping her from breaking the golden shackles.

“I don’t like chains.” Her eyes darkened as she remembered the last time he had put her in manacles, the pain of helplessness, and the madness of fury.

“You’ll like these chains.” Whether she liked chains or not, he didn’t give a good goddamn, for she would wear his. His finger blatantly slipped between her soft lips and gave it a wicked stroke. The tremor that ran through Buffy’s body instantly put Angelus in a better mood.

As annoying as it was to be sensitive to someone’s needs other than his own, it would prove to be the wisest course of action tonight. Buffy needed to brought under his hand, and force could not be the motivation. She had to accept his terms, but of her own free will.

However, there was nothing that could prevent him from making her see things his way.

Pulling her close to him Angelus hotly kissed the curve of Buffy’s neck and shoulder. “I’ll show you how much you’ll like them.” Running his large hands down her back he felt that the gold was warming to her body heat and found that it pleased him immensely.

Any time he had bought jewelry for Dru or Darla the stones had remained as cold as their bodies, beautiful but unappealing to the touch. But it was obviously different with his newest little lovely. With Buffy the sapphires inspired and beckoned for him to touch her wherever they lay.

And touch her he would.

Leaning down he languorously licked and bit at her nipples, enjoying the sweet taste of her flesh. He could hear the rush of addictive, delicious, blood rise to the surface of her skin, begging for him to drink. Angelus’ eyes began to swirl with the colors of his passion and it severely tested his strong force of will to keep from morphing.

Holding onto him, and unaware of his terrible hunger, Buffy shifted her legs and felt the chain slide against her. “Aah!” she cried out in soft surprise. The pleasant prickling melted her reservations and instantly made her pliant to the torturous lust that her ruthless lover inspired so easily.

Smiling against her skin Angelus quickly lifted her within his arms and set her on her stomach. Straddling her back he hungrily kissed the soft skin, and took in the sweet scent that was Buffy. It didn’t matter that there was dirt and sweat coating her, he could smell the siren call that was stamped into his memory easily. And even if he couldn’t, he would enjoy seeing her this way because it added to the earthiness of what they were doing.

Sliding a hand beneath her hips, Angelus raised Buffy to her knees. Letting his fingers drift to her nipples he tweaked them one at a time, and delighted in the squirming of her ass against his cock. Settling her legs between his own he grinned with feral joy when he felt her spread them wider.

“Wait until you feel what this chain can do lover,” Angelus darkly boasted as he carefully plunged into her accepting body. She was so wet and warm, her juices easily coating him, and allowing him to quickly sink to the hilt. “Oh yeah…” he loudly groaned as he felt her inner muscles clench him tightly.

Buffy arched her neck and her head fell back as she felt the exquisite sensations of his cock. She could feel the restrained power of Angelus’ every thrust. The passion was driving her insane and the decadent beauty of his gift fueled the thrill.

Pushing back against him she felt her eyes drift shut with pleasure. Moaning softly she shuddered from the intense hunger. Buffy wanted to cum so badly that she could barely remember the last hour of her solemn quest into Angel’s past.

As her body was lifted back and she rested on Angelus’ wide spread thighs, Buffy entwined her arms behind her around his neck. Her body was completely open to him and she realized with delight that he would take full advantage. His fingers repeatedly found their way to her pussy, teasingly playing with her open lips and her newest piece of jewelry.

She quickly understood that her chain was not merely for decoration. Anytime Angelus pulled on it, the smooth golden links rushed up across her clit, making her gasp with ecstasy. “Oh yes…Angelus…oh…yeah…please…yeah…oh…oh…yes…oooh…”

Roughly nipping her ear he purred, “You like?”

“Oh yeah…”

“Do you want to take it off?”

“No…oh…no…”

Burying his mouth against her neck Angelus smiled with pure demonic joy. She definitely loved it if her increasingly louder pants and moans were any indication. Leaving her pussy, his fingers drifted down until they reached her delicious bottom.

He could tell that she grew nervous when he began to leisurely rub her small virgin hole. Concentrating on slowing his strokes, Angelus began to seduce her ass with light, unthreatening caresses.

“Angelus…”

He heard the question in her breathy moan and stopped the movements of his hips, although he did continue those of his hand. “Hmmm?”

“What are you doing?”

“Playing.”

“It makes me feel…weird.”

“Why?” he softly asked in seeming curiosity.

“It…well…because it…it’s dirty.”

“Don’t you wash?” he darkly teased.

“I do! I mean…well, back there…it’s not the same as---“

Shifting his hand higher Angelus patted her pretty curls and broke in with, “Here?” Feeling her nod he hotly whispered, “It’s just as nice Buff---for me and for you.”

Shaking her head Buffy unconsciously tightened her hand, clenching the back of his own dark head. “It’ll hurt.”

“How do you know?” he amusedly asked.

“Because---I just know.”

Pulling the chain with a teasing jerk Angelus knew exactly what it ran across. “It can hurt---but it doesn’t have to.” Hotly kissing the side of her neck he murmured, “I can make it good for you baby.”

He could feel her body tense but he could also feel her curiosity. “I know that you’re curious about it Buff.” Running his hand across her chest he joyfully squeezed one small breast as her breath hitched in anticipation. Angelus drew his hips back and pushed into her quickly.

He soon had her forgetting her fears, while he had not forgotten his desire. He wouldn’t fuck her ass tonight, but he would have it within the week. He just had to get her ready for it and now was simply the first enjoyable step.

Again he allowed his hand to drift to where he wanted her most. Angelus did not force her to his passion, he simply made it so that she could not ignore the growing sensations his fingertips caused for her.

Gripping him tightly Buffy clenched her eyes shut while her mouth lay slightly open. The prospect of anal sex still scared her, but despite her nervousness and fear she had to admit that a new dimension of pleasure was opening up. It felt different from when he fingered her, and somehow it was more thrilling.

Buffy could feel her orgasm hurtle upwards from the pit of her loins. The combination of his cock, the chain, and his fingertips became too much and it echoed in her slight scream. Knowing she was on the edge Angelus began to thrust harder, forcing her body to arch and bounce upon his. Within seconds she started trembling before tensing tightly.

“I love you…I love you…I love you…”

As his mistress shattered in ecstasy he slipped the tip of one finger inside of her and was immediately rewarded when she fell into orgasm once more. Pushing her to her hands and knees again, Angelus squeezed her ass, delighting in the sweet torture of her muscles clenching him with all their might. He could feel his cheeks hollow as his own orgasm began to rapidly build.

Her body was driving him insane.

When he had found her here, there was nothing more that he wanted to do than feel her naked body against his. She was an obsession and in the midst of his passion, Angelus realized it and what it meant. He’d never let her go. Ever.

As he drove repeatedly into her hot flesh he thanked the gypsies for what they had done. The clause was the key to his being inside Buffy’s sweet pussy. Angelus, not Angel.

She’s mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.

When Angelus dug his fingers into her hips Buffy mewled from the pain and found that it only added to her carnal hunger. It was amazing how quickly her lover could summon the lust that lay within. She wanted to feel him cum inside of her, and she burned with the need of knowing that she could give him this much pleasure.

Head arched back, he was a man driven by his needs---his need to dominate, and his need to possess. Feeling his balls tighten Angelus welcomed the urges that sped along his body. Hazily looking down at the beauty of her hips and ass he now wanted to see her face.

Just when he felt his seed about to explode Angelus withdrew, reached for Buffy’s shoulder, and pulled her to her knees. When her mouth eagerly settled over him and her hands squeezed his lean hips, Angelus felt the world explode in a rush of crimson. With one hand in her hair and the other on her waist, he loudly groaned, “BUFFY!”

Swallowing his thick seed she sighed with sexual contentment at the taste of her lover on her lips, and the sound of her name on his. Once his body was finished Buffy softly sucked the last bit of him into her mouth and then pulled away. Swallowing a few times to clear her throat, she tiredly lay her head against his firmly corded stomach.

Wrapping his arms around her slight body Angelus deeply sighed in satisfaction. He’d take her to a restaurant later on and watch her eat but for now, he wanted only to be inside her again.

As the high of being with Angelus faded, Buffy waited for the crushing guilt to overwhelm her. A tingle of her constant companion arose, before being firmly pushed aside. Somehow, she would make this work. The vampire before her was the cause of great sorrow in her life, but despite it all, he made her feel alive.

And being alive was the most important thing to her right now---because she knew that it would soon come crashing down on her head.

Glancing down at her, Angelus saw the small lines of sadness flit across her face. Thinking that it was thoughts of Angel, he kissed her forehead and murmured, “He’s a ghost now lover, just a ghost.”

And I’m here.

Looking up into his face Buffy almost confessed the truth of her prophesy. Staring up into his triumphant dark gaze, she immediately swallowed her words. She would never tell him because it would destroy her to see the same triumph burning in his eyes at her fall.

He hates me that much and I love him that much.

Glancing away she felt the sadness choke her. It was sick to feel this way, to allow her body to be taken by a vampire who loathed her, but it was too late to change it. She was well and truly caught in her own self-destruction.

Buffy docilely allowed her body to be brought back to the ground. When Angelus settled himself between her thighs, she arched into him with a soft moan. Linking her arms around his waist she forced her mind away from the melancholy thoughts, and instead focused on the dark magic that he was already creating with her body.

Both lovers were focused so intently on their mutual needs that they never noticed nor heard the discreet hum of a camera zooming in on their play, a camera that had been witness to their entire exchange…

The digital images traveled across miles of cable within seconds, again showing the infrared lines of Buffy and Angelus melding into one another. The two occupants of the room watched the screen with nothing more than a clinical interest---even the audible noises of intense sexual need did nothing to stir them.

After a few minutes one turned to the other and queried, “Shall the Watcher be told?”

A moment of silence was met before a gravelly voice answered, “No. He has already played his role. There’s nothing more that is needed from him.”

“Very well. I’ll be leaving for Sunnydale now.”

“Good. Continue with surveillance.”