The Wickedness Lies in the Courting

The silence of the decrepit night lay heavily upon them, as they remained sprawled on the floor. Buffy’s chin rested on her crossed arms while Angelus’ hand twirled lazily through her tangled hair. They had had sex twice more before finally falling from each other in temporary satiation, and the silence since had been deafening.

The one glance she had spared Angelus had reflected a face carved in living stone. There was nothing to be read, sensed, or even noticed about his expression---it was that remote. However, underneath the blankness of his timeless features Buffy sensed that a great many thoughts were screeching through his mind, and she was sure that sooner or later they would not bode well for her.

As for herself, Buffy’s thoughts were no less chaotic.

Sighing softly she placed her hands flat on the dusty floor and pushed herself into a sitting position. Lifting her arms into the air she took a long, leisurely stretch before standing up. She could feel Angelus’ eyes on her but she chose not to look his way. It seemed that no matter how peaceful things might get between them, it never took long for the emotions to flare up---especially if eye contact was made.

Walking over to her long discarded pile of clothing Buffy bent and found her undergarments. Slipping them on she quickly heard Angelus brusquely demand, “Where are you going?”

Looking at him over her shoulder she simply replied, “Home.” Her thong felt a little strange now that she was wearing the two jeweled chains underneath. Adjusting the waistband Buffy heard Angelus’ arrogant command of, “Not tonight.”

Closing her eyes briefly she immediately regretted hearing the terseness of his belligerent tone. As unhealthy as the implications were, she was beginning to understand his moods, the various pitches of his voice, and what they signified. Angelus was already looking for a reason to dismiss the incredible passion they had shared less than an hour ago.

If only it were that easy for her to turn her emotions off and on…

Pulling up her pants Buffy quickly zipped them closed while lightly stating, “I have to go home.”

Angelus’ answer was quick in coming. “No you don’t. Your father won’t be back until tomorrow.”

Her head flew up in momentary surprise. “How did you---“ Seeing the smug expression on his handsome face, she abruptly broke off in mid-sentence before muttering, “Never mind.” It didn’t shock her anymore that he knew; Angelus seemed to find out whatever it was that pleased him.

Tugging on her sweater Buffy covertly watched the way his sleek muscles rippled as he uncoiled his long form and stood up. Even though in the past weeks she had seen his naked body numerous times, she still got a wanton thrill each time she saw it.

And Angelus knew, if the rakish smile he threw her way was any indication.

Standing still, Buffy waited in silence as he prowled towards her. The majority of men would look vulnerable and uncomfortable at best, or awkward and silly at worst, if they strode around naked, but Angelus clearly suffered no handicap. His nudity only emphasized the magnificence of his dangerous grace.

When his large hand cupped her face Buffy’s heart began to beat in quick rapid pulses, the anticipation soon unbearable. She leaned into his strong body as he bent down for a hungry kiss. Almost immediately she was clutching his back tightly as her tongue shamelessly battled for entrance. Kissing Angelus was a temptation incapable of explanation. The truth was that it made her die a little more each time he broke away because it felt SO good.

Before her body took complete control, Buffy had a last moment of mental clarity: No, I don’t need to do this right now. I have to get my head together. I can’t think when he’s this close. AND I’m really hungry.

Pulling away from him with more than a little regret she stepped back and picked up her socks. Sitting down she slipped them on before finding her shoes and shoving her feet into the snug leather. Angelus observed all of his mistress’ movements with little more than an arched brow before blandly asking, “Are you hungry?”

Frowning briefly in confusion Buffy replied, “Huh?” as she bent down for her jacket. Slapping at it she worked at getting the majority of the dust off before attacking her pant legs. If she didn’t know better, she would swear he read her mind.

Either that, or he heard her stomach growl, which was a more likely explanation.

With more than an irritated bite to his words Angelus reiterated, “I said: are you hungry?”

Standing up Buffy propped her hands on her hips and smartly answered, “A little. That’s why I’m going home.”

Angelus smiled coldly and strolled behind her. Laying his hands on her shoulders, he leaned in and flatly advised, “Buff one thing you better learn real quick is that I hate repeating myself. You are NOT going to your father’s tonight, so just deal.”

Sighing softly Buffy replied in a low tone, “I don’t want to fight tonight. So please stop trying to pick one with me.” She felt his hands squeeze her flesh tightly before he stepped away. Angelus couldn’t have the fun of a confrontation if she didn’t give him one. Apparently the tactic worked because he began dressing himself without a word.

Running her hands through her hair she relished the thought of a brush and a mirror. Scanning the littered floor she soon saw her discarded clip. Walking towards it she scooped the black plastic up and attempted to re-pin her hair. No matter how often she twisted her wrist, a clump of blonde hair inevitably escaped her grasp.

Angelus finally put his hands over hers and suggested, “Let me help you with that before you make an even uglier mess.”

Glancing over her shoulder Buffy realized that he held a small comb in his hands. “Gee, thanks,” she sarcastically mumbled before relinquishing the clip.

Efficiently he ran it through her tangled locks, smoothing the strands until it glowed healthily. Observing her through hooded eyes Angelus watched as she grew more and more relaxed beneath his experienced strokes. Despite the darkness he could see a luminescent light steadily spread across her face, making her look ethereal and decidedly immortal.

This was only one of a handful of times that he had seen this change take her. The bond. The mysterious bond between himself and the Slayer was one that fascinated him in ways beyond pride and power. He was hungry for all facets of their change and had already spent countless hours pouring over any text that could aid him in his cause.

Angelus had encountered a few interesting references, but none that would explain their situation, even the most basic of questions. Such as, why was her beauty this spectacular now, yet seemed fleeting? Why did she resemble one of the few blessed with immortality, but later on would revert to human prettiness?

The questions were many but the nights would be long and Angelus WOULD be the possessor of the answers.

With her head leaned back Buffy’s eyes were barely open as she enjoyed the feeling of having her hair combed. It felt so divine to feel the plastic teeth gently scrape across her scalp. “Where’d you get the comb?”

Angelus’ voice echoed a certain flippant humor as he answered, “From my pocket. How else do you think that I keep my hair looking so good?”

Reluctantly Buffy’s lips curved into a smile. “You’re so vain.”

He merely grunted while continuing to run the plastic through her locks. Lightly she sighed, “I love it when you comb my hair.” Her mind was filled with him and the way he made her feel. When he was a bastard---oh how he hurt! But it was times like this that she could almost forget that he hated her so…and that she hated him as much as she loved him…

Angelus smirked and almost preened from the compliment before he caught himself. Clipping her hair quite expertly he insolently drawled, “I’ve been told that it’s one of my assets. In fact, Darla insisted quite prettily for it each night---and I do mean prettily.”

His sharp eyes saw the luminescence drop from her face completely. Now Buffy appeared quite human, with all the charming flaws that graced her lovely face.

Spinning around she soundly slapped Angelus in the face, her palm connecting with such force that it rocked his head back. Pushing him with both hands she angrily watched as he didn’t fall as she had wanted, but nearly stumbled back.

“You asshole! How dare you brag about what you did with that bitch! Especially after what WE did!”

Rubbing his sore cheek with one hand Angelus narrowed his eyes at her. “What’s with the attitude Slayer? She’s dust, by my own hand I might add---“

“Your own hand? It was Angel who killed your precious Darla, not you---Angel.”

Stalking over to her furious figure Angelus gripped both of her arms until deep bruises rapidly formed. “I don’t want to hear another goddamned word from you!” Whatever mood of truce they had both silently agreed to was gone, and all with reminders of their past life. The ugly and humiliating truth for Angelus was that he irrationally loathed it when she brought up Angel’s name. All the control in his being would snap whenever she did it and Angelus despised that loss of control. If he could rip out the memory from her mind and her heart he would do so with much glee.

And to that emotion, he had thought that he was making progress…

Flinging his arms off Buffy circled away and yelled in return, “Well you know what? I don’t want to hear another goddamned word about you and some other woman!”

“Jealous much?” he snidely replied while beginning to circle her menacingly.

“Yeah, I’m jealous. There. I said it. So what?” Not even attempting to take the time to elude him anymore, Buffy walked over to him before tipping her head back and biting out, “It’s bad enough that we do what we do, but I swear to GOD if you cheat on me Angelus---“

“First off, I would watch what I swear to God. Second, I’m not Angel. You don’t threaten me,” he growled in a voice that clearly shouted his growing fury and displeasure.

“Oh really? Well, guess what? I’m threatening you right here, right now.” Buffy vaguely noticed that Angelus’ brows shot up in surprise at the boldness of her stance. Lowering her voice she heatedly said, “I’ve lied for you, I’ve left all my pride for you. I’ve let you beat me, fuck me, and leave me. I’ve done all this for YOU!” The last of her words were punctuated by a less than gentle shove to the middle of Angelus’ powerfully muscled chest.

Without taking a pause for breath Buffy finished with, “God knows I’ll probably go far beyond that before this is through, but I will NOT let you cheat on me! You touch another woman, that means Druscilla, minions, whatever---you will hurt as bad as I will.”

The words hung heavily in the air, vibrating with an impassioned intensity that left Angelus no doubt that his mistress was more than serious. Instead of slapping her as would have been his first instinct, he instead lifted his lips in a smirk and drawled, “Oooh, what fire! You know Buff, all this ranting makes you look kinda cute. I mean, you should see how adorable you are when you get all pink and red like this.”

Buffy’s head jerked back slightly at hearing the utter disregard he had for her warning. Her ears and cheeks suddenly began to burn as she abruptly felt the complete foolishness of those impassioned words fall on her head. How could she have said those things? By allowing Angelus to know how she felt about his fidelity, or lack thereof, she had once more given him a weapon to wound her heart.

Feeling completely humiliated she childishly spit out “I hate you!” in a voice thick with unshed tears. Turning around Buffy stormed off, hearing his mocking laughter ringing in her ears. Why are you running away like a baby? You’re the Slayer! The voice of her conscience angrily reproached her as she flung herself through the heavy doors.

It doesn’t matter that I’m the Slayer. When I’m with him I’m just a 17-year-old girl. A DUMB 17-year-old girl. The night air outside was thick with speculation and accusation. Buffy could feel the eyes bore into her as she quickly made her way down the desolate cracked and pitted street. In that moment she did not care who might be watching. All she wanted was to go home and let her father make her feel better---

Abruptly she remembered that there would be nobody home and even if there was, she wouldn’t say a word.

Unbidden she could feel the hot tears splash down her cheeks. Angrily she scrubbed them away with the back of one hand. Idiot! Why am I crying over that jerk! All he ever wants to do is hurt me! And I let him! AND to think that I was STUPID enough to beg him to “take the pain away?” What was I thinking? Oh! I’m such a dumb ass!

The angrier Buffy was getting with herself the more she continued to cry. A bitter wind whined through the boarded up and abandoned buildings, ruthlessly reaching for the small girl below. Wrapping her arms about her she furiously stalked block after block, looking to hail a cab to take her home, but they were either occupied or she saw them too late.

A few times along the way she heard the cat-calls and whistles that might have frightened a normal girl, but right now Buffy would have welcomed the fight.

Eventually she left the seediest part of town behind and was making her way to the sprawling center that was LA’s proudest picture moment. The beautiful artificial sparkle and soaring fingers of steel made Buffy wish for the humble viciousness of Sunnydale. At least there she’d fight amidst small historic buildings and the occasional playground, but here…

Here there was a whole world that evil could hide in and one that she might not spot so well. It was also a world that made her feel so lonely, despite the millions that existed all around.

Coming to a stop in the middle of the fenced overpass, Buffy blindly watched the vehicles speed beneath, their lights glowing with a glaring hypnotic pull. The mechanic whines and rumbles filled her ears as the wind howled with winter’s glee about her body.

I thought it doesn’t get cold here, Buffy vaguely wondered. Maybe tonight was just one of those nights. Propping her forearms on the prickly concrete she ignored the shivers that racked her body, and began to think of how the night had come to this pass. Watching the world go by through the metal coiling of the fence, she felt that her present view was apt to how her life was.

Wherever she was she watched life pass by, seeing it, but not really being a part of it at all. It was as if there was an invisible, but very real fence between herself and the outside world. And she didn’t stay on her side alone.

She had company.

Buffy was supposed to keep the monsters on one side of the fence, and keep the humans on the other. It was her sacred duty, one that she had specifically been chosen for. Yet, doing that kept her on the same side as THEM.

And now she was having sex with one of the monsters she was supposed to keep away…

Closing her eyes Buffy felt her neck begin to throb angrily and her legs tense with a great hunger. The deliberate click of shoes cleanly cut through the night cacophony of human life. Angelus.

Without glancing to the side she felt him there.

His smoothly mocking voice floated through the air, wrapping each word tightly around Buffy’s mind. “You have an annoying habit of running away Slayer. Makes me begin to think that you don’t like me very much.” Leaning his side against the concrete wall Angelus smelled the delicious scent of her aroused body with great satisfaction.

Observing her rigid form he could see the dried tracks of tears and inwardly smiled. His mistress’ weeping was nearly as arousing as her pleasure, and her anger was only a spicy variation of them both tonight.

Giving an unladylike snort Buffy continued to look down at the freeway while dryly replying, “And you have an annoying habit of stalking. Makes me continue to think that you have serious issues of control.”

A low laugh emanated from Angelus at the blatant insult. Moving closer to her he could feel Buffy trying to ignore his presence and it amused him. Only until the sound of her heart filled his ears with the primitive music of life did he lean his head forward, and hotly kiss the side of her neck. His taste of her sweet skin was brief because Buffy suddenly shoved away from the wall, and from him.

Angelus’ eyes narrowed in annoyance as he coolly stated, “Well, then. I’m glad to see that you understand me completely.”

Hollowly laughing Buffy disagreed with, “Completely? I haven’t even BEGUN to understand you at all.” Crossing her arms in front of her body she tightly asked, “What are you doing here?”

Leaning his head back Angelus looked up at the starless hazy sky and blandly answered, “Isn’t it obvious?”

Arching her brow she smartly said, “In a word: no.”

Turning his head to the side he pinned her with his fathomless gaze and simply replied, “You’re hungry and I want you to eat.”

Huh? This was not the answer she expected at all. Buffy blinked her eyes once as she slowly said, “I’m hungry and you want me to eat.”

Seeing the confusion on her face Angelus felt a petty sort of satisfaction. Good, she deserved to be thrown off balance for making him go out of his way to woo her. On his far-from-pleasant stroll here he had furiously wondered why he even bothered with the Slayer. After all, she barely tolerated his presence, constantly ran from him, and annoyed him BEYOND words with her ridiculous moments of conscience.

He already fucked her, sucked her, so all that was needed was to finish the job and leave her as a crumbled, bloodless husk.

But then all he had to do was be in Buffy’s presence and he knew.

As long as the madness burned savagely through his veins, as long as she consumed his every waking thought, as long as the scent of her drove him mad---then Angelus would continue to walk along the path of madness.

And force his darling whore to walk it with him…

“In a word: yes,” he mockingly repeated with a smirk.

“You want me to eat because I’m hungry?” Buffy knew she was sounding like an idiot but this was not what she expected from him. She had expected, I wanted you to suck my cock again, or I wasn’t done fucking you, or Haven’t I warned you never to turn your back on me, or a thousand equally grating things, but not something so innocent as her need for food.

“I think you already said that Buff.” Pushing off the wall Angelus walked over to her tiny form and rubbed his hands up and down her slender yet capable arms. “Why’s that such a stretch for you baby?”

Buffy felt a shiver course through her body at the huskiness of his tone. “Oh, are you cold?” he asked with grave concern. Soothingly he murmured, “I can’t have my girl cold. Come here darling.” Not giving her a chance to deny him Angelus opened up his duster, pulled Buffy inside, and wrapped his arms around her body.

Resting his chin on the top of her head Angelus whispered, “Is this better, lover?”

Closing her eyes Buffy was bitterly reminded of times past. His voice was almost the same. His touch was almost as sweet. His intentions…just what were they?

Pulling back she looked up into his cold eyes and knew that almost was NOT the same. “What are you doing?” she rigidly asked.

“What?” he innocently asked with an arched brow.

Attempting to pull away Buffy was brought up short by the bands of steel holding her within his determined grasp. Giving up at getting away Buffy exasperatedly asked, “What the hell are you trying to pull? Mr. Nice Guy you’re NOT, so what’s your angle Angelus?”

Rolling his eyes Angelus sighed in annoyance and complained, “Can’t I care for your welfare? Or would you prefer me to stay between your delicious thighs all night without a care to your need for sustenance?”

Buffy could feel the heat rise to her face at his risqué question. Ignoring it she wearily stated, “You don’t care about anyone’s needs except for your own. Whatever there is between us, lies don’t have to be a part of it.”

Keeping one arm around her waist, Angelus lifted his hand and pushed back a wayward strand of her hair. Allowing his hand to rest on the soft contour of her cheek he murmured, “Lies, hmm? You seem awfully sure about what lies are…and what they aren’t.” Sliding his hand until it lightly gripped her chin, Angelus lifted it so he could look down into Buffy’s face. “So Ms. Honesty, why don’t you tell me why you ran off back there?”

Hating the vulnerability she felt she debated on whether to lie. As if he sensed her thoughts Angelus’ hand tightened in warning. Irritably Buffy finally snapped, “Isn’t it obvious? I left because you made me feel like an idiot.”

Pulling away Angelus musingly rested a hand on his chin, the flash of silver catching Buffy’s gaze and making her aware of the mate on her finger. After many moments of private deliberation he finally spoke. “Well, we can’t have that---can we?” Smiling dangerously he purred, “After all, feelings of idiocy should be merited, don’t you think lover?”

“Come again?”

Pity dripped off every venomous word as Angelus breathed, “Ah, I forget that your vocabulary is rather limited.”

Buffy felt the cruel jab slash her with deliberate intent. The hurt flared brightly in her eyes before being hidden deep within.

His malicious gaze correctly read her emotions. “Didn’t like that, did you?” Smiling widely he advised with false kindness, “As long as you please me, darling, then feelings of idiocy will not be a problem. And running from me NEVER pleases me. Neither does threatening me.”

Before she could hold back the words Buffy asked in a low voice, “What about pleasing me Angelus?”

Arrogantly he stated, “I please you baby. You and I both know I do.”

“I don’t mean sex! I mean---“

“What?” he rudely broke in. “You mean you think I should bring you flowers, and hold your hand, and hang out with you at the Bronze?”

Spoken in those terms Buffy once more felt foolish. She didn’t know what was compelling her to bare her thoughts to him, but then she remembered. Crimson memories of violence splashed across her mind before being banished. Holding back had caused an explosion of destructive rage that she could NEVER allow to happen again.

Never.

Snidely laughing Angelus said, “This was never an arrangement about going steady Buff. For Christ sakes! I’m not your boyfriend Slayer!”

This was what she was betraying her honor for? This vampire was what she was betraying Angel for? Knowing the torment Angelus’ memories had caused for Angel, she still willingly lay beneath Angelus, and for what? To have her face rubbed in the fact that she was nothing more than a lay to him?

Staring at his coldly handsome face until her vision blurred Buffy mumbled, “Then get out of my life so that I can get one.”

The laughter abruptly stopped as Angelus froze. In a terrible voice of calm he whispered, “What did you say?”

Feeling the tears spill from her eyes she repeated, “Then get out of my life so that I can get one.”

The rage Angelus suddenly felt was so great that his mind almost completely blackened with unending hate. Buffy was HIS. His and his alone. How dare she order him out of her life? Clenching his fists he stalked over to her and immediately punched a hole through the heavy-gauge fencing next to her head. It took every muscle in Buffy’s body to keep her from jumping back in fear. The rage in his eyes made her want to scream, and the restrained viciousness in his voice made her want to clap her hands over her ears.

So why was she goading him? Why was she saying these things that she truly did not want? She hated how he made her feel, she loathed them both for continuing this game, but the truth was---Buffy could not even see anyone else for all she recognized was Angelus.

But some part of her needed to lie to him, and make him think that he was not the only one who filled her mind. She needed to show him that if he was not consummed with the madness of their affair, then neither was she.

Although it would be a lie...

“What did you say?” he once more repeated with deadly softness.

Bravely Buffy lifted her chin, while tears rolled down her face, and quietly said, “I don’t want this anymore. I want out, I want a chance for someone new---“ Before she could finish her foolishly courageous lie Angelus let his hand fly and slapped Buffy across the face.

Falling against the concrete wall she cradled her swollen cheek and stared at him through watery eyes. Crouching in front of Buffy Angelus emotionlessly commanded, “Apologize.”

Why didn’t she stop the blow from falling? Why did she just take his slap? Her tortured thoughts were cut short as he barked, “Apologize!”

“I’m sorry!”

“For what?”

“For…for…”

“Do not try my patience---I promise you will not like it.”

“I’m sorry for threatening you with someone else!” Buffy hated the underlying tone of pleading in her voice. She hated everything about this night. But most of all, she hated how she was taking whatever Angelus chose to give her.

After many moments her ruthless lover finally spoke. “I accept your apology.” His hand suddenly shot out and gripped Buffy by the back of the neck. Leaning his head forward Angelus laid his lips against her forehead and whispered, “But I warn you baby, don’t EVER threaten me with someone else again. Am I making myself clear?”

Buffy sniffled for several moments before whispering, “Yes.”

Angelus smirked in male triumph before he heard her say, “But I mean it too.” His smile faded away as he asked, “What?”

Clenching a fist within his shirt Buffy harshly whispered, “You’re mine Angelus, and I’m not sharing. Ever.”

Instead of flaring up in fury Angelus suddenly chuckled. She just didn’t quit. Nuzzling her with his mouth he huskily answered, “Well, then I guess you just better keep me occupied.”

Buffy frowned slightly at his reply, before realizing that for Angelus this was the best she was going to get. While it wasn’t exactly an open declaration of fidelity, it was enough to make her believe that he understood.

Pulling slightly away Angelus stared down into her tear-stained face. Soothingly he murmured, “Oh, I made you cry. Here let me make it up to you.” Tenderly he began kissing her cheek, caressing the rapidly fading print of his ruthless blow.

A well of heat sprang forth from Buffy’s womb. The touch of his lips imprinted themselves in a way that could never be mistaken for another. Hungrily she arched up against him, wanting and needing his mouth over hers. Abruptly Angelus stood up.

Breathing heavily she watched as he held his hand out to her. “Let’s go. There’s an out-of-the-way place I want to take you to.” Slowly she placed her hand in his, rose off the the ground, and breathlessly watched as he lifted it up to his mouth.

Placing a kiss on her palm Angelus’ eyes slitted with pleasure as he smelled the delicious scent of her arousal grow stronger. Despite the trouble, the Slayer was definitely worth it. And despite the fact that she had continuously provoked him, Angelus was determined not to let her sway him from a more generous mood.

Tonight he would show her the charming side of his nature, and bitchy or not, she WOULD NOT keep him from doing so.

Keeping her small hand in his own, Angelus began to walk towards the glittering lights of LA. Looking down at Buffy he asked, “Do you like Chinese?”

Bewildered she haltingly replied, “Uh, sure.”

Smiling in satisfaction he responded, “Good. I have just the place for us to go. It’s intimate, dark, and like I said: out-of-the-way.”

Staring up at his gut-wrenchingly handsome profile Buffy felt as if the world had taken a bizarre turn. She already understood that this vampire was capable of mercurial changes of mood, but this side of him, especially in light of his violent jealousy, was too new for her to understand.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Angelus continued to nonchalantly stare straight ahead, while his steps were significantly shortened to match Buffy’s much smaller stride.

Which she also noticed with a wary sense of joy.

How many times before would he force her to practically run just to keep up with him, simply because he could not be bothered with slowing down for her?

Could it be that things were changing between them? For the better?

Not wanting to dwell on hopes that could so callously be dashed Buffy lightly commented, “I’m looking at you because I feel like it.”

One corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk as he drawled, “Well if you keep staring at ME, and not the sidewalk ahead of YOU, you’ll fall on your face.” Casually glancing down at her wide gaze he evenly stated, “And DON’T think I won’t laugh.”

Rolling her eyes Buffy turned her head and faced the lighted city in front of them. “I wouldn’t fall on my face, and IF I did, I’d take you down with me.”

A short bark of laughter erupted from Angelus’ lips as his hand lightly squeezed hers. “Aah, Slayer---always full of illusions.”

Buffy unwillingly felt a smile quirk the corner of her lips as they continued to walk hand in hand. This was nice---very nice. Immediately she grandly replied in return, “Aah Vampire---always full of yourself.”

Angelus briefly let go of her hand, only to smartly slap her bottom. Buffy yelped in surprise at the stinging pain, as he held her small hand within his once more. Unconsciously rubbing her offended cheek she heatedly complained, “That’s such a crude thing to do!”

Ignoring the outrage in her voice the vampire replied with an unapologetically, “That’s because I’m such a crude man, lover.”

Narrowing her eyes in offended pride Buffy mutinously stared ahead. Her burgeoning feelings of contentment were quickly evaporating. How dare he just hit her butt like that? Considering that Angelus had just slapped her face a few minutes before, it seemed more than silly to be more bothered by this playful slap than that punishing one, but the truth was that it really bothered her.

She didn’t know why, it just did.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re pissed again,” Angelus breathed with a tinge of boredom lacing each word.

“I’m not talking to you.” Unconsciously her chin lifted while her hand lay limply within his.

Abruptly stopping Angelus waited in silence as he watched Buffy try to appear casually disinterested in their stillness---and in his observance. Teenage humans were known for sudden fits of moodiness, and apparently his mistress was going to act her age. Considering he was well over 220 years older than she was it came as no surprise, but Angelus couldn’t help but be more than slightly annoyed.

Through fate and circumstance Buffy possessed a maturity that other girls her age generally lacked, and it was this facet of hers that kept him fascinated in her thoughts. Yet, now was not one of those times; playing the silence game while fuming with displeasure was an action that he often observed in many a teenage gathering. Instead of just coming out with what was on her mind, Buffy preferred to huff, puff, and pout her way to town.

Even in his annoyance Angelus irrationally wanted to know what was wrong with Buffy. Why was she so prickly tonight?

The Slayer continued to find disfavor with him, and it truly baffled him. After all, it’s not as if he had punished her for leaving Sunnydale without leaving him word, or got angry with her for being found in the now-defunct Angel’s building, or even taken out his ire on her running away from him again.

In fact, he had just given her a token of his lust to wear about her trim little body!

And to push his indignation further, SHE was the one who split HIS skull open the other night. While seeing brains out of their proper setting hardly made Angelus squeamish, it was not the most pleasant of moments to come home and see his own brain tissue lying there amidst his own filth. Beyond that, to make arrangements to have the mess cleaned up was just a chore he would have rather not had.

The point was this: SHE had not been the one to regenerate her own spinal column and fluids.

Granted chaining Buffy up and whipping her was not the nicest behavior in her book, but it’s not like he had even left her back in shreds. In fact, he had broken the skin only once…well, maybe twice…or it could have been three times…whatever…the truth remained that Angelus had not inflicted a tenth of the agony that she had cursed him with.

So what the hell was her problem? Could Buffy’s fractured moods still be related to the carnage of two nights before? But why? He had gotten over it and HE was the victim, so what was her deal?

Allowing her hand to slip from his Angelus watched as Buffy hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her pants and cock her leg impudently. He felt her sigh reach out and drift by his ear, clearly communicating an agitation covered by surface boredom. Meeting her eyes he saw her finely arched brow rise in dismissal before the hazel slid away, preferring to stare at the myriad vessels of metal that sped by.

No, that couldn’t be it. This was probably Buffy just being a brat, a spoiled little girl who was miffed for whatever bitchy reason that came into her head.

Angelus did not feel like this was a problem he wanted to deal with tonight. Not tonight.

Tonight was a night that all he desired was to watch his lover eat, before he took her to a hotel room, made her scream with ecstasy, and then perhaps afterwards, watched her sleep.

Was that too much to demand?

Keeping his dark gaze trained upon hers, he thought of how to proceed---yet it was not with the usual glee his devious mind wrought. For reasons that he did not want to probe or consider too deeply, Angelus yearned for a small measure of peace tonight. Peace was an emotion that rarely visited him, one that he even more infrequently sought, scarcely ever gave, but tonight he needed it.

He needed it because the dreams had been especially vicious before his waking.

Angelus rarely slept, finding it to be a function that was usually performed out of boredom. Since his return to the world he found tedium not to be an issue, but he had needed to close his mind off to the desperation that threatened to claw him whenever he had thought of Buffy not coming back.

It still shamed him to the core to even acknowledge those suffocating moments of irrational terror. Self-loathing seeped from his dead pores knowing that the threat of the Slayer lying to her mother, sneaking away, and leaving him, had made him want to tear a hole through a wall.

And so the lure of sleep’s forgetfulness had been a false enticement. It was a pill that he wearily wished he had not swallowed, for the miserable memories of another life, the past, and the future plagued Angelus in a way that still caused confusion and turmoil.

He should just leave his ungrateful mistress to her pouting, and find some other willing female to slake his lust on, but…

“Buff…”

No response, other than a slight jump in her throat. Angelus stepped closer to her, and instantly noticed how her hands gripped her waistband tightly. What was it? Fear? Lust? Anger? Hate?

Disgust?

A black well of doubt yawned within him. What if her love was false? What if she was lying to him, waiting for the time when blinded by her love, he let down his guard, just so she could drive a stake through his chest?

Simon’s words echoed in the tormented confines of Angelus’ mind.

“It’s different this time.”
“Is it?”
“Of course it is! She loves me.”
“You or your other self?”

WHY would she love him?

HE killed Angel. HE destroyed her soft illusions of love. HE threatened all that she held dear. HE raped her. HE beat her. HE made her his whore.

Why would she love HIM?

Angelus forced Buffy to look up at him by gently lifting her chin. He would see it in her eyes, and if she was seeking to deceive him, by all that was unholy he would make her pay! Intently studying her youthful features he blandly asked, in direct contrast to his tumultuous feelings, “What’s wrong? I thought we were having a grand time there Buff, and now you’re upset. Why?”

Buffy wrestled with the answer to his question. Just why was she upset? It really was no big deal, after all couples smacked each other on the ass all the time. Angelus had been jesting with her, not yelling at her, taunting her, or pushing her against a wall. The tap on the bottom had been a part of their ease, she was sure of it. Also, it had been nice.

It had also been scary because Buffy knew it couldn’t last. Peace was not a function of their joint being---it was folly to even seek it. So why was he being nice to her?

Although Buffy did not consciously know the answers to her questions, it lay in her self-doubt. She feared the pleasant mood of her lover even more than she feared his ire. She believed the peace could not last, so instead of allowing Angelus to dictate when their truce would end---Buffy caused the skirmish.

After all his cruelty was so much simpler, because at least then she didn’t allow herself to get lulled by the illusions of a false life.

But those answers did not come to Buffy, for they lay hidden deep within her psyche. Instead she found one symptom of the problem and pounced on it as the complete truth.

“I don’t like you treating me like a kid.”

That was not an answer he expected. A child. How did she presume that he treated her like a child, especially when his needs for her were obviously of an adult nature? Voicing his confusion Angelus softly asked, “And how was I doing that?”

Pulling away from his touch Buffy cried, “You hit my butt!”

He couldn’t see lies writhing within the depths of her troubled gaze. There was frustration, pain, confusion, sadness, and love. Yes, there was definitely love when she met his gaze. It was there, softening the corners of all the other emotions that raged within. Stepping closer to her Angelus’ eyes took on a lusty glow as he murmured, “But I thought you liked it when I hit your ass---especially if I use leather.”

Buffy’s mouth opened slightly in shock. A bright flare of crimson splashed itself on her cheeks, as embarrassment rocked through her. “What I mean is that I don’t like you…SPANKING me just because I say something you don’t like.”

“What makes you think you said something I didn’t like?”

“Because you---“

“Because I hit your ass?” Angelus’ hand reached down and tightly squeezed her cheeks. “I hit this,” the last word was emphasized by a particularly hard squeeze that pushed Buffy up on her toes, “because it looked so delicious. I hit this because I love doing it.” His last words were punctuated by another rough caress that forced her against his body.

Not wanting to resist the taste of her mouth Angelus swooped down and roughly kissed Buffy. A creature that made seduction his primary weapon against the fairer sex, he generally practiced slower strokes when it came to taking a woman. However, with Buffy he found that he could not help but give into the raging passion that overtook him whenever he found himself within her embrace.

Her heart echoed within his ears, filling him with the drum of her life force. He swallowed the small groan of defeat that slipped from Buffy’s lips as she wrapped her arms tightly about his neck.

Clenching his eyes shut Angelus kept his hand on her hips, and lifted her against his dark-clad figure. She couldn’t be lying---this was too real. Buffy could not be that devious, she could not trick him that completely. Her love was his.

His.

But his fear was his as well…and it was not to be banished so easily.

A shrill horn effectively cut through their passionate clinging as a flash of lights illuminated the sidewalk. Recognizing the significance of the intrusion, he cursed in frustration. “Shit!”

Still holding her tightly, Angelus felt Buffy stiffen in reactionary hesitation and fear at the sight of the police officer slamming the cruiser door.

Silently grumbling about the constant presence of keepers of the law, he idly wondered if Buffy’s seemingly never-ending sense of forgiveness would extend to him draining the blood out of the rude intruder. Probably not. Meeting her eyes Angelus then smirked and confidently told her to, “Hold on lover.”

“Step apart and put your hands---“ the officer’s words were abruptly cut off as the couple eerily disappeared. Cautiously walking towards the spot where they were last standing, the officer swiftly glanced about the surrounding area and saw absolutely nothing.

How was that possible? Feeling a chill go up her spine, the seasoned officer wondered if the strangeness of the incident only justified what drew her to make the stop in the first place. There was something threatening about the man, and the girl was obviously underage, but what could she do now? Both were gone…if they ever even existed…

“That was fun,” Angelus wryly remarked as he quickly landed on a deserted street, before setting Buffy down. They were several miles up the road and only a few miles away from his mistress’ meal. It had taken him a minute to run the distance and while he wasn’t yet fatigued, he uncomfortably felt the lack of Buffy’s blood in his system. Deciding that walking was out of the question now that an officer of the law was interested in who they were, Angelus quickly scanned the street to look for a suitable car to steal.

Shortly finding a small import he tossed out, “Come on.”

Quietly following him across the street Buffy was unaware of Angelus’ attentions. It was definitely a bit weird to be in his arms at their previous speed. The entire world had flown by in quick burst of cold air, and whining silence. Thank God none but Angelus possessed this speed, for if another vampire was even close to being that fast, how would she ever be able to stake it?

She was lost in her thoughts until he stopped by the dark blue sedan. A frown immediately crossed Buffy’s brow when she saw him try the door. Sharply she asked in a hushed whisper, “What are you doing?”

Glancing over his broad shoulder he casually replied, “Stealing a car.”

Her voice rose in a high pitch of shock. “What? Oh no, nah uh!” Quickly she bit her lip before scanning the surrounding area, expecting to see several lights come on as a result of her screeching.

“Why not?” Reaching into his pocket Angelus pulled out a set of metal picks.

“Because!” Furtively glancing around Buffy lowered her voice and hotly protested, “We already walked for a bazillion miles! There’s no need to steal someone’s car.” Seeing the objects in his hand her eyes widened. “What is that?”

Expertly fitting the picks into the lock Angelus deftly maneuvered his hand until he was able to hear the inaudible click that signified success.

Before he opened the door Buffy backed away from him. “Oh my god---you carry that kind of stuff around?! You thief! A vampire I already knew, but a thief too? Ugh!”

Opening up the dented and scraped door he slid into the seat and noticed that while the car had an alarm, it hadn’t been armed. Oh well. Your stupidity, my comfort.

Buffy covertly glanced over both shoulders and saw that the street still remained empty. While reassuring, it didn’t do much to alleviate what was taking place in front of her. Tensely she whispered, “Let’s just go.”

Leaning down Angelus half-listened to his mistress’ self-righteous protests as he removed a section of heavy plastic, uncovering several wires. Exposing the metal beneath the protective colored sheath, he brought two strands together. After a small shower of sparks lighted the floorboard, the rumble of an engine starting broke the silence of the night.

It was the first time he had hot-wired a car, but he was more than pleased to find that it wasn’t difficult, and that the memories proved correct. Looking up a satisfied smirk lifted Angelus’ well-shaped mouth as he ordered Buffy to, “Get in,” while leaning across to unlock the other door.

Wrapping her arms about her waist she again looked about, more than expecting someone to yell, “Thief!” Slayer or not, Buffy hadn’t ever really broken the law. Well, maybe there was a bit of breaking and entering…vandalism…destruction of property---but it had all been on the job!

Other than that she had been clean. At least since she’d arrived in Sunnydale.

“Buff!”

Buffy jumped at the sound of Angelus’ voice. Moving her feet forward she really felt guilty for what she was going to be accomplice to. Reluctantly opening up the passenger door she slid in, her feet dislodging several empty fast-food drink cups.

“Remind me to keep my jewelry hidden,” she sarcastically murmured.

“The only jewelry I care about lover is on your sweet, little body, so I wouldn’t worry about it.”

A blush becomingly stained Buffy’s cheeks at the reminder of his decadent gift. Even now she could imagine it searing into her flesh, boldly proclaiming her Angelus’ property. Gingerly sitting up straight she reached to the side and put her seatbelt on.

Looking up she met Angelus’ mildly amused gaze. Mockingly he drawled, “Safety first, eh Slayer?”

“Don’t remind me that I’m the Slayer right now---especially since I’ve become your partner in crime, “ she sullenly muttered. Seeing that he was unbuckled Buffy spunkily admonished, “And you shouldn’t drive without buckling up first either.”

Pulling the car out onto the street Angelus, sans seatbelt, remarked, “Such concern for my welfare! I’m touched.” Glancing at her uncomfortable form he laughingly suggested, “Why don’t you relax a bit Buff? I’m only stealing someone’s car---not their life.”

Jerking her head to face him Buffy narrowed her eyes and said in a voice full of steel, “That’s not funny.”

Coldly smiling Angelus merely stared at the road in front of them. She was still tense but he could feel a difference in her delicious emotions. Despite her fear of what they were doing, she was intrigued. Even now he could smell the adrenaline rushing through her body, and could hear how the excitement was altering the unique pattern of her heart.

His darling liked a bit of the bad.

Angelus always knew she would, and that’s another reason why he chose this instead of simply running all the way to the Jade Tiger.

Buffy’s soft voice suddenly broke the silence that had lapsed. He could hear the fabric and vinyl creakingly whisper as she shifted in her seat. “How did you know what to do?”

Searching for a particular street sign he casually asked, “What? You mean how’d I know how to steal this?”

A flash of blonde hair caught the corner of his eye as she nodded her head and answered, “Yeah.”

Shrugging he replied, “I just knew,” as he found the right street.

The curiosity in Buffy’s voice rose several notches as she plainly asked, “How?”

Traces of a sadistic smile lifted the corner of Angelus’ mouth. “Well, let’s just say that Angel had a bit of experience and passed that knowledge onto me.”

“Oh,” she answered in a small voice as she leaned back into the seat.

Expecting that she would lapse into brooding he was surprised when she then asked, “How come you don’t have a car?”

“I do have a car. Several in fact.” Cocking a brow Angelus coolly added, “One of which you could’ve seen the other night---if you had been home.”

Defensively she stated, “That’s not my fault. Besides, even if I had wanted to tell you, I couldn’t.”

“Why not?” he evenly asked as he pulled alongside a building.

Seeing they were coming to a stop Buffy lightly replied, “Because last I checked you had no phone, computer, or even two cans and a string.”

Putting the car in park the dark vampire turned in his seat and softly suggested, “You could’ve come by.”

“Where? The factory?” she skeptically inquired while curiously looking at their surroundings. She didn’t see a restaurant at all, just several dark storefronts.

“You know where lover. You could’ve come by the penthouse.” Reaching out with one finger Angelus traced the soft curve of his mistress’ cheek.

“I-I didn’t think of that.” Every time he touched her in such a way, Buffy could feel her insides easily turn into mush. A spark of anger at the loss of her body’s control caused her to turn towards him once more and state, “Besides it’s not like you’re my boyfriend or anything. I don’t need to give you an itinerary of my life.”

Angelus didn’t miss the spite that came with that little bait of hers. Coldly he intoned, “No, I’m not your boyfriend Slayer. I’m far more than any boyfriend, lover, or husband could EVER be to you.”

Opening up his door he arrogantly exited without another word. Buffy stared at the empty seat in confused frustration. His detached words left her with an indelible mark of possession---one that angered as well as irrationally pleased.

Sighing heavily she placed her hand on the handle and pulled. Sliding out of the car Buffy briefly thought about wiping the metal clean before remembering that the police didn’t have her prints on record. With another sigh she closed the door and walked away from the object of their crime. She only hoped that whoever owned the car would find news of it quickly.

Seeing Angelus waiting for her she softly asked, “We’re just going to leave it here, right?”

His broad shoulders lifted in a shrug as he casually remarked, “It’s as good a place as any. Besides, I don’t have to ditch it to cover something nasty…” His lips twitched as he observed Buffy’s wary and concerned features. “Lighten up Slayer! Where’s your sense of humor?”

Reaching him she slowly replied, “I don’t know you very well Angelus. I can’t tell when you’re joking and when you’re…not.”

An enigmatic look filtered across his ebony eyes before he replied, “Well, it’s a good thing that I know you very well Miss Summers---better than you know yourself.” In that moment Angelus arrogantly forgot the doubts and misgivings he had had. She belonged to him, and each moment that she spent in his company, was a moment that strengthened the bond of his possession.

Reaching with one arm he placed it on her small shoulders and pulled Buffy close. “Now let’s go get you something to eat.”

In that moment her belly gave a loud growl. Embarrassed she clenched her stomach muscles tight, as if to prevent another protest. At his laugh she looked up in mortification and mumbled, “I get hungry---it happens!”

Leaning down he seductively drawled, “I’m hungry too Slayer, but I’ll wait until you’re satiated first.”

Buffy’s stomach clenched with a bolt of longing so intense that it nearly obliterated all her wariness of this vampire. She yearned to bare her neck to his deadly fangs, foolishly willing to play Russian roulette with her life and her soul. In a dangerously sweet moment she could imagine how it felt to allow this dark lover of hers to gain nourishment from her blood.

Briefly closing her eyes she saw herself stopping, turning to look up into his shadowed face, before sliding her hand around his neck. She could clearly see in her mind’s eye the bloodlust darken his already black gaze, and as always, it would never fail to excite her. She would watch with fascination as he shifted into his vampiric face, no longer finding it as ugly as before.

Buffy could imagine the coolness of his hands as he pulled her close, sinfully beguiling with the force with which he made her apart of himself. Deep in imagination she could even feel the brush of his hair against the sensitized skin of her neck, savoring the smell of his shampoo as it teased her nose, before suffering the exquisite delirium of falling into death with him.

Opening her eyes she saw that he was looking down into her face, lips lifted in the familiar smirk, his eyes dancing with glee as if he had traveled along the line of fantasy with her.

Angelus was the intoxicating master of her weaker self, and they both knew it.

Huskily she murmured, “Maybe you’ll have to go hungry tonight,” bravely teasing him with refusal.

“Oh, somehow I doubt it Slayer,” he replied with soft arrogance.

Holding contact with his gaze for a few moments Buffy could no more help her actions than she could stop breathing. Standing up on tiptoe she reached out with her mouth and latched onto the pale exposed flesh of his neck.

She felt rather than heard his surprise. Nuzzling the smooth skin with her lips Buffy gently kissed him before biting down. Her blunt teeth could not do as much damage as his, but even still she managed to pierce his skin. Immediately a low growl rumbled in her ears, exciting her with the promise of danger.

Pulling away she felt a small trickle of blood seep down from the corner of her mouth. Reaching up with her arm she slowly wiped it away with her sleeve, marveling on how it was HER blood that flowed in his body, HER blood that nourished him.

Angelus did not bother to touch the nearly invisible wound, nor did he show signs of anger at being bit. Instead he merely asked, “Why did you do that?”

Buffy’s answer was boldly honest, coming from the gut. “I wanted to feel what it’s like to be you.”

His eyes enigmatically held hers before he queried, “How’d it feel?”

It felt good. And it did. For a brief moment it felt wonderfully good to be the aggressive one, to be the one draining him, to be the one entering his body. But she would not admit to it. How could she? She was the Slayer, not a vampire like him. So all Buffy answered was, “I hope we’re close because I’m really hungry.”

“We’re only a block away, lover.”

Nodding her head once she replied, “Good,” before striding away.

Angelus laughed in knowing delight. She liked it. The lines between her life and his were becoming even more blurred, their black and white melding into a murky gray. Soon she wouldn’t be able to see life without seeing him. Soon she wouldn’t be able to escape the view of both sides---not just the one.

Walking behind his mistress he quickly caught up and kept a certain distance between them. Instead he was content with taking in her scent, letting it intoxicate him with a drunkenness that left him excited with what the rest of the night would entail. Dinner first, fucking later. Or perhaps fucking in the midst of dinner…

Despite the lateness of the hour the green, white, and red neon lights brightly announced the location of the Jade Tiger. The rest of the street was relatively quiet, yet even still Buffy could hear the dim voices of many people as her hearing instinctively sharpened.

Approaching the crimson and gold doors she felt her mouth begin to water as the delicious aroma of food wafted forth. Her mission of opening the door was halted as Angelus’ hand reached the handle first. Somewhat surprised at this show of courtesy she expected him to walk through first, only to feel the gentle pressure of his hand at her back.

Immediately he expertly guided her through, pausing briefly at the hostess pillar, before directing Buffy to the back of the dimly lit restaurant. Finding a darkened corner booth he stopped them both, politely gesturing for her to sit down. Scooting across the squeaky leather seats she settled herself comfortably before taking an opportunity to look around. She was surprised at the fact that there were a decent amount of people quietly dining.

The restaurant was really no different that any of the other Chinese eateries she had been to. Red tablecloths covered all the small tables in the center of the room, while heavily carved and lacquered wood made up the partitions between each booth. Large potted plants randomly held their place in corners, while beautiful Asian paintings hung with honor and dignity on several walls. Music filtered throughout, the sound soothing and fitting to the surroundings.

Her observations were interrupted by the soft voice of a spectacularly native dressed waitress inquiring about their drinks. Before Buffy could answer Angelus ordered for them both, “Tea for me and a Coke for my beautiful lady.” A brief bow and the waitress gracefully walked away to fill their requests.

An awkward silence settled over the table. Sitting there somewhat stiffly she wondered on whether to fill in the space with conversation, all the while trying to ignore the spurt of pleasure she felt over his off-handed compliment. With what though? So…how’s the homicidal business going? Fine. That’s good. And how is Dru---still crazy? What about Spike? He’s still crippled right? That’s really good.

A brief smile flitted across her lips at the goofiness of her thoughts.

“Find something amusing, lover?”

Meeting his eyes she demurred, “No, it’s nothing.”

Reaching out with one finger he rubbed the soft flesh of her hand. “What do you have a taste for?”

The question, innocent enough, brought suggestions to Buffy’s mind that were anything but pure. Clearing her throat she skimmed the table for the menus, found them in the middle, and grabbed them both. Handing Angelus his menu she felt the brush of his hand against hers as he murmured, “Thank you Baby.” Pulling her hand away with a quick glance towards his face she concentrated on the words in front of her, ever conscience of his presence.

Angelus found her skittishness challenging. It was the constant with them---he seduced, she yielded, she rebounded, he restarted. Unless he kept her beneath him, she would always revert to putting a wall beneath them. It didn’t bother him as much though, for after their tiff of the a few nights before, Buffy couldn’t put a wall high enough that he couldn’t scale.

Her distance gave her conviction, if not courage, so it was up to him to remedy that first. Patting the space next to him Angelus winningly requested, “Come sit closer to me, darling.”

Buffy’s eyes darted up, fledgling thoughts about Kung Pao Chicken or Green Pepper Steak fleeing. “What?”

A playfully seductive light entered his eyes as he leaned closer. “I’m lonely over here.”

She hesitated for a brief moment, unsure and wary of this side of him. Their entire relationship consisted of one way of being and it wasn’t like this. This way was almost normal. Why fight it Buffy? The question hauntingly rang in the lonely confines of her mind until she eventually agreed. Holding onto her menu she slowly scooted over until she was sitting right next to him. Immediately he dropped his arm over her shoulder, gently cradling her against his large body.

Looking up at Angelus’ handsome profile Buffy felt her breath catch in her throat. He was SO incredibly attractive, and his body was HERS. This vampire was obsessed with her, just as she was with him.

If only things were different…

Placing his hand on hers Angelus opened up the menu and proceeded to murmur against her ear, “Do you like egg rolls?”

Shifting her gaze she attempted to keep the print from going out of focus. His closeness was intoxicating. He was never this close to her unless they were naked…

Nodding her head once she replied, “Umm, yeah, I like egg rolls.”

“What about egg-drop soup?”

“Egg-drop soup? Ah, I like wonton.” God he was so close! Leaning back against him she relished the bittersweet memories that flitted through her mind, remembering the way it was with Angel. Only this experience was charged with far more sexuality, the hunger sharp with proven need and exquisite want.

“Wonton it is.” Running his finger down the menu he noted the sweet scent of Buffy’s arousal with pleasure-slitted eyes. He never kept her this close unless he was inside of her body, and Angelus enjoyed this newness. Staring down at her golden crown of hair he imagined the way it would look tonight, spread upon a pillow, or draped around her face as her hips ground down against his. “What about the main course? What would you like?”

Breathing shallowly Buffy drowned in the air around them. Her neck pulsed with primitive hunger while her chest rose quickly with anticipation. She could FEEL the bond tighten its elusive chains about her, binding her with infinite ease to Angelus. Her voice betrayed their steadily growing passion as she answered, “I…ah…I think I want Green Pepper Steak.”

“Green Pepper Steak. Good choice.” Angelus’ loins tightened with lust at the sound of her desire. He could smell the delicious fluids coating her hidden yet pretty lips, while he could almost imagine hearing the beauty of her blood calling to him.

Look up at me he silently commanded. Look up at your master. This Slayer was his, only his and he reveled in the possession of such a wonderfully powerful creature.

Slowly Buffy lifted her head, locking her lovely eyes with his darkly possessive ones. Angelus leisurely leaned closer until his lips barely touched hers. Forcing himself to stay his passion, he gently closed his lips on hers, delicately tracing the outline of her before she opened to him. He did not ravish Buffy’s mouth, as was his wont, but instead tenderly explored her, allowing her to set the pace of their kiss.

He’s never kissed me like this. It’s as if I’m someone so beautiful, so cherished.

After several moments Buffy pulled her head back, and leaned it against his shoulder. It was recorded that he could be so charming, so magnetic that all were powerless beneath his charisma. Now she was finding it out firsthand. Breathing in deeply she took in the scent of his cologne, letting it fill her senses. Before any words could be spoken the waitress arrived with their drinks, a small pot of tea complete with a charmingly painted cup for Angelus, and a tall red tumbler filled with Coke for her. Softly he gave their order before turning his attention onto the hot container.

Sitting forward Buffy occupied herself with removing the paper sheath from her straw before plopping it into her drink. Enjoying the cold soda flowing down her throat she wondered if Angelus was really going to drink his tea, or if it was just for show.

He quickly dispelled her imaginings as he took a small sip of the fragrant liquid. Shifting in her seat she was conscious of the fact that Angelus still kept his arm about her. A fire of warmth unfurled its flames within her heart at the continued contact. Trying to act as if nothing was amiss she politely asked, “How’s it taste?”

“Good.”

“Really?” Even though lightly spoken Buffy could not hide the unconscious note of skepticism.

“I DO like other things beside blood.” Gesturing with his gaze he clarified, “Like tea for example.”

Curiously she remarked, “But I thought that vampires only could stomach the taste of blood.”

“You’ve seen me drink before Buff.”

“Yeah, but that was only because I thought you had to. You know, to keep up with appearances.”

Amusement danced in his eyes as he commented, “Ah, but then you thought I probably threw it all up at the first opportunity.”

Shrugging she honestly answered, “Well yes.” Thoughtfully frowning Buffy absently ran her finger around the rim of her glass while murmuring, “Giles told me that vampires cannot eat regular food, nor could they really stand the taste of any liquid other than blood.”

Angelus laughed mockingly at her shockingly ignorant understanding of the creatures she was supposed to hunt. “And I suppose he got that from the vast knowledge of the Watchers, correct?”

Bristling at his derision she shortly said, “Yeah, I guess.”

The Brit was smarter than that, so why was he peddling that particular bit of rubbish from the Council? Letting his fingers play with her sleeve Angelus musingly asked, “And you believe everything you’re told?”

“Everything Giles tells me.”

“Buff, don’t you think that it’s dangerous to believe everything you’re told, regardless of the source?”

Buffy quietly pondered the question, grudgingly seeing that it was a good one. Her mind played with the implications of several answers, knowing that each one would lead her down a different path of thought. Sighing she looked up and met his awaiting expression. This was a question that needed more time to ponder through. So for the moment she had no real answer other than, “I’m the Slayer. Giles is my Watcher. We trust each other.”

Angelus arched his brow and merely smiled. “Would that all trust be merited.” It was a matter of control, the Watcher’s control over the Slayer. And the chain didn’t stop there. It went all the way up to the top, the belief being whoever controlled this warrior of decency ruled the world. It was all too true.

Quickly changing the topic he suggested, “Here let me help you with your jacket. It’s getting pretty warm in here for you.” He knew that the redness of her cheeks had more to do with defensive anger rather than the restaurant’s temperature.

Buffy wordlessly undid the fastening on her jacket, feeling him reach around her before sliding it off her body. She felt him shift, the creak of the seat abrasive, as he too removed his leather duster. Placing both coats on the seat of the booth Angelus met her gaze and pleasantly smiled.

Unwillingly Buffy felt her mouth answer in return before wiping her face of all expression. Reading the tightening of his mouth correctly she immediately remembered his words of that terrible night: Why do you save all of your smiles for him and leave none for me?

“Is it such a crime to enjoy your time with me Buff?” His words, while softly spoken, could not hide his irritation.

Sighing heavily she answered, “In a matter of speaking it IS a crime Angelus.”

The retort was razor sharp and quick as a whiplash. “Why?”

Meeting his opaque gaze she replied, “Because of what you believe in.”

A sardonic smirk twisted his lips as Angelus queried, “What I believe in? And just what do you think I believe in Buff?”

“You believe in killing people.” Buffy’s eyes turned cold as her face settled into an impassive mask. How could she feel any emotion for this creature? What he did was an abomination to all that she stood for.

Angelus’ jaw clenched in ill humor as he quietly stated, “I need blood to survive, that doesn’t make me a monster.”

Her eyes widened with disbelief as she retorted, “You enjoy the hunt! You enjoy the kill! THAT makes you a monster!”

Leaning forward he heatedly whispered, “And you don’t? You don’t enjoy the thrill of catching your prey, which let me remind you are MY kind!” A note of contempt entered his voice as he snidely asked, “You don’t feel disappointment Miss Summers when your tally isn’t as high as the night before?”

Not giving her a chance to reply he coldly intoned, “Coming from my side THAT makes you just as much of a monster as me.”

Shaking her head Buffy tried to shut out his declarations. Taking a long sip of soda she fought against seeing the other side, but it was too late. He was right, despite suffering beneath the weight of her calling, Buffy did enjoy the hunt. She enjoyed the exhilaration of fighting each night, of knowing that with each vamp she dusted, the more her existence counted. Especially after falling into Angelus trap.

But she also enjoyed hunting them down, and sending them on their way to hell. Just because.

Lifting up the delicate cup Angelus resisted the urge to crush it. It rankled how she saw him as being so much beneath her. As if possessing mortality automatically made one superior to those who did not. Besides, he had been human once too---didn’t that count for something?

No, wait. HE had not been human---Angel had been.

Setting his drink down with careful motions Angelus murmured, “You persist on fighting with me, lover. I don’t like it.”

Sitting her drink down with a decided slam Buffy irritably replied, “And you persist on baiting me. Every time I soften just the tiniest bit towards you, you find a way to make me feel like shit.”

“I make you feel like shit?” Humorlessly laughing he believed that she had quite a bit of nerve. “Do you just want to go home then?” All intentions of showing his good side was blown to hell. Buffy refused to just let things go. It was as if the moment she felt any joy with him, she had to find a way to fuck it up.

As with what often happens to individuals, Angelus could not see how he was guilty of the very same crime.

Buffy lifted her chin, ready to spit out an affirmative, when she saw their waitress coming towards them with a cart laden with food. Instead of spiting herself she merely answered, “No.”

Seeing the dark-haired waitress he immediately understood her motivation. “I should be insulted,” he sullenly replied.

Eagerly awaiting for her food to be arranged she evenly said, “Suit yourself.”

Angelus hated how she managed to do this to him once more. In their time together she had humiliated herself for him, bent her will to his, suffered at his whim, and yet just when he knew he had Buffy in the palm of his fist, she managed to throw him completely off balance. Again.

He expected her to leave, he counted on the fact that she would, just so that he could force her to stay, and what happened? She stayed!

What did she want? Angelus had to come upon the personality that would seduce her to his will. Generally that was part of the fun, only this time it was hardly amusing. In a moment of inner honesty he realized that the outcome of this game meant far more to him than any other before.

In that moment Angelus hated himself beyond anything he had ever hated before. It was despicable this weakness he had for her! Buffy Summers could only be seen as a diversion until he tired of her. Then he would send her on her way to the next world, before moving onto fairer pastures. That was the plan---that had always been the plan.

One could not hate so fiercely without destroying the object of one’s hatred.

Yet that was becoming harder for him to believe. Why was it changing? How could he change it back?

You are NOT going to beat me tonight Slayer. With that silent vow he politely excused the waitress. With a nod and a respectful bow she left, leaving them both to their meal. Buffy reached for one of the lids when Angelus stopped her. Forcing himself to graciously serve his mistress he felt petty satisfaction at her expression of surprise. Good. Let her be thrown off balance as well.

“I can do it---“

With a heated glance he murmured, “Allow me, lover.” Placing a bowl of soup and an egg roll in front of her, he then lifted her plate as he gracefully arranged a tempting array of steak, vegetables, and rice. Once ready he courteously said, “Your meal my sweet.”

Picking up her spoon Buffy paused before asking, “Umm, are you going to, ah, eat? Can you even eat?”

“If necessary, it’s just not needed.” Reaching out he lifted up a pepper and popped it into his mouth. Seeing her bemused expression Angelus laughed shortly. “You look so shocked.”

Shaking her head she began sipping her soup. It was beyond weird to see him consume anything that even remotely resembled human food. Turning her attention back to Angelus she saw him working on a bowl of spicy soup. “If you can eat, why did you fake my Mom out at dinner?”

A devilish gleam sparkled in his eyes as he answered, “Because I felt like it.” And to show you how easy it is to control your world, including your mother.

“Oh.” Lifting her spoon again Buffy abruptly paused with it halfway to her mouth. “Or was it because of the garlic?” Seeing him arch his brow she pounced, “It was, wasn’t it?”

“Ah, Buff, Buff, Buff. You have it wrong.” Reading the skeptical expression on her pretty face he shared in a conspiratorial whisper, “I can eat garlic. In fact I rather like it.”

Tilting her head in a charming fashion she asked, “Then how come garlic works as a vamp-repellent?”

Angelus took a few sips of his soup before querying, “Has it ever worked on me?”

“Well, no, but it DOES work!”

“To fledglings, not seasoned immortals like myself.” Placing his spoon down he lifted a starched green napkin and wiped his mouth. Turning to Buffy he then explained, “A fledgling, among other things, is extremely sensitive to strong odors and tastes. It’s overwhelming and therefore avoided until a tolerance is built.”

A slight frown creased Buffy’s brow as she pondered this bit of information. Hmm. I wonder if Giles has any garlic essence on hand? If he doesn’t, where can I get some? If she doused her opponent with it, she could then take advantage, therefore staking much faster than before.

“Already contemplating on how to use their weakness, lover?”

Feeling a flush creep into her face Buffy chewed her lip for a moment before emphatically saying, “It’s my job, it’s what I do.”

“But when I use your species weaknesses against you, that makes me a very bad man.”

Quickly she denied with, “It’s not the same.”

“Says who? You and your kind?”

Not liking how he was easily sowing controversial ideas she irritably asked, “Where’s all this you and your kind coming from? Last time I checked Angelus you were just as quick to dust a minion as I.”

“And last time I checked, humans were just as quick to put a bullet, knife, or poison into one another.”

Spreading her hands across the table Buffy tightly asked, “Okay. What do you propose I do? Let you and your clan kill people whenever you feel like it?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“You hold what I am against me. That’s hardly fair,” he silkily announced.

“And you hold what I am against ME.”

“Really? How do you figure?” Leaning forward he coldly asked, “Do I EVER bring up the fact that you regularly dust members of my clan?”

The answer was no and they both knew it. “You still hold my calling against me.”

A cruel smile twisted his lips as Angelus stated, “That’s not what I hold against you.”

“Then what?”

I couldn’t even begin to tell you in one sitting, darling. I hold much against you. The fact that you were Angel’s is a start. The fact that he took my place first is another. The fact that you would never believe it if I told you that his thoughts of you were not that far from mine. The fact that you occupy so much of my moments is yet another sin that I hold against you, darling. That and so much more.

“Why can’t you answer me?” Her hands lay in her lap, clenched over each other.

Piercing his mistress with a direct gaze Angelus finally spoke. “Do you love me?”

A flash of pain flitted across her face. With quiet dignity she answered, “Yes,” obviously steeling herself against one of his casually cruel insults.

“If you love me, why do you deny yourself joy with me?”

Meeting his gaze with a direct one of her own Buffy stated, “My love does not blind me Angelus. I know that for you it’s a weapon to use against me. I may be stupid enough to love you, but I’m not stupid enough to just lay down and let you tread all over me without some kind of fight.”

“I only use weapons if needed Buffy.” The assertion was softly spoken in a tone that was bitterly familiar of Angel. Reaching out with one hand Angelus felt under the table until he found her lap. Closing it around both of her small fists he wearily stated, “I am tired of forever seeing you jump around me. I yearn to see you smile, to hear you laugh.”

Angelus felt an unfamiliar tightening in his gut at hearing his own words. Bullshit! Watch yourself boy. You just want variety. You want to give her joy simply so you can take it away at your own whim, that’s all.

Buffy felt embarrassment as her eyes filled with foolish tears. If she could have the past back again, if she could experience the gentleness of Angel along with the intoxicating carnality of Angelus... If she could have them both she would be happy, she knew she would.

Briefly she fought at exposing herself before giving in. Sincerity rang through each softly spoken word as Buffy confessed, “I love you Angelus. I love you in a way that frightens me. Because I love you I want to be happy with you, but…”

Reaching out with one finger Angelus stopped her from finishing. “All I ask from you darling is that you stop being the Slayer when you’re with me.”

Wearily she denied him. “I can’t. It’s who I am.”

Just as firmly he declared, “And I am who I am.”

Staring into his ebony gaze for several seconds Buffy sadly stated, “Then it’s stalemate.”

“Not necessarily. When you come to me, you leave the world outside.”

“And you?”

“It’s never been an issue Buff.”

Many minutes passed in silence as Buffy contemplated Angelus’ proposition. Perhaps it was not his intention but she could not help but feel as if he were offering her something more…permanent. This was hardly the arrogant vampire who had heartlessly avowed, We’ll fuck until I don’t want you anymore.

What if this was his way of wanting more?

Angelus was capable of passion so why not love? Despite her opinion of Spike and Druscilla, Buffy could not deny that they loved each other fiercely. If there was any chance of having her love returned she had to know.

Taking a deep breath Buffy simply asked, “Why won’t you let me go?”

A burst of crimson rage flared in Angelus’ mind. She was throwing his offer of peace back in his face! After trying to find some sort of truce, some way of tolerating each other beyond sex, all she could think of was leaving him? In the coldest tone of voice he had ever spoken to her he frostily said in return, “You bitch.”

Buffy’s head flew back as she realized how he had taken her question. “That’s not what I meant---“

“Save it Baby.” Furiously reaching across her body he grabbed his coat, rooted in the pocket, and impatiently pulled out his wallet. Throwing a couple of bills on the table he stood up and impersonally said, “Enjoy your meal.”

Standing up as well Buffy did not care if she was drawing attention from the patrons. “Angelus please! That’s not what I meant!”

Without responding he slipped on his coat and strode towards the exit. Buffy watched as he disappeared from sight, her appetite fleeing as rapidly as he had. If it had been Angel she would have sworn that his feelings were hurt, but this was Angelus---he had no vulnerable emotions.

Deflated Buffy turned towards the table, seeing how everything had been arranged. Angelus had been as much a gentleman tonight as she had ever seen him be. Despite a few ill-timed comments and flare-ups, he had been as gentle with her as Angel had. And even then, Angel had never served her food. In fact, they rarely met during meals and drinks. Usually it had only been tea.

I DO like other things beside blood. Like tea for example.

Closing her eyes briefly Buffy could not help but think of this similarity between the two. If they shared this thing in common, couldn’t there be others?

He had been courteous with her tonight, and although he had not been like Angel, he had been a better companion than ever before. Feeling the beautiful sapphires accusingly burn into her skin Buffy felt torn between hope and cynicism. He had even given her a gift. Different than Angel’s simple ring of silver, but still it had been meant for her.

Confused she blindly looked around the restaurant, only to see few faces even glancing in her direction. If she walked away now, perhaps it would be over. Perhaps she could put this behind her and solely concentrate and train for her battle with Acrymydion. Perhaps Angelus would shift back into the shadows of nemesis and they would keep their affair secret, as if it had never been.

An agonizing lancing of her heart rebelled against the contemplation. Maybe she would find a way to cheat Death again, but that was a risky gamble. She had already done it twice. Regardless of hope what was certain was that she would die.

Did she want to spend the next weeks alone, cut off from the world, from all that made her feel alive?

“Is everything alright Miss?”

Taking a deep breath Buffy turned to the waitress and softly replied, “I hope it will be.” Grabbing her coat she picked up the bills and placed them into the woman’s hands. “Will this cover the check?”

Quickly looking down she rapidly answered, “Yes but I need to get your change---“

“Keep it!” Running out of the restaurant Buffy stopped outside hoping to see Angelus. He wasn’t there.

“Angelus!” She didn’t care how late the time was, or if she was even disturbing anybody. All she cared about was finding her lover.

Scanning the road she instinctually reached out with her senses, desperately trying to find some inkling of where he could have gone.

“I’m sorry.” Although whispered she hoped that somehow he would hear it and come back to her. She stood there uncertain for a minute but instead of being greeted by a smirk, the wind was her only companion.

It was late and the sun would be rising in about three hours. Wherever he went couldn’t have been that far, but the city was big and Buffy didn’t have the slightest clue as to where to begin.

The car. What if he had went back to the stolen car so he wouldn’t have to walk or find a cab? Taking a running step Buffy rapidly moved faster and faster until her movements were nothing more than a blur of shadows. She had never run so fast and while it was wondrous, she was too focused on finding Angelus to appreciate this new facet.

Within a couple of seconds Buffy was on the street where they had left the car. Coming to a stop she saw the darkness that was Angelus. As she was going to speak she saw him stiffen, obviously realizing her presence. Glancing over his broad shoulder his handsome face remained as coldly infuriated as she had ever seen it. She noticed that his hand was on the door handle of the closed car door, but he had yet to open it.

Taking a deep breath Buffy closed the distance between them before stopping a few inches away. “That’s not what I meant.”

Angelus immediately growled in warning, “I detest lying, especially coming from you.”

Her voice remained steady, attesting to the truth of her next words. “I’m not lying.”

Leaning back against the car door Angelus insolently crossed his arms over his chest while sneering, “Didn’t I leave enough to cover the bill sweetie?”

Buffy stepped closer while solemnly asking, “Do you really believe that I’d come after you if that was true?”

Peering down his nose he questioned, “Why did you bother?”

Lifting her head Buffy quietly stated, “That’s not what I meant.”

“Hmm, that’s not what you meant.” His arm suddenly whipped out, cruelly grabbing Buffy by the arm and hauled her against his chest. Leaning down he hatefully bit out, “Then just what the hell DID you mean? In spite of your ignorance concerning vampires, do not make the mistake of carrying this misconception in your pretty, little head: I am NOT a stupid beast. So don’t insult me by assuming that I am.”

“I know that you’re not. If you were, I wouldn’t be in this situation to begin with.”

Understanding exactly what she meant Angelus smirked while narrowing his eyes. “Oh poor Slayer! Poor little Slayer who had to become the fuck toy of her worst enemy in order to save her friends! She’s such a heroine to lay down with the most vicious vampire to walk the Earth.”

Buffy mutely stood there, angry tears filling her eyes as she sought to find a way to shut out his slashing words.

Seeing her crystalline tears Angelus felt only a tiny measure of satisfaction. However, his feeling of betrayal cut too deep. The memories rose to suffocate him with feelings that belonged to another time, another man. Flashes of Fiona and Michael cut into his mind, taking him to a time where Angel had felt helpless and stupid.

The flashes expanded to reveal a long line of women who had sought to play with his emotions, seeking to use his weaknesses against him. They had captured his mind, indulged his obsession, and in end they too had been as faithless as the original. The only ones who had not betrayed him were Darla and Druscilla. And now Darla was gone and Dru had lost her appeal over a century before.

But at least she had loyalty and knew better than to take advantage of his seldom shown weakness. While this one, this little whore despised and rebuffed him at every turn. He had been a fool to try to follow his feelings of uncertainty and make a different start for them.

He would not do so again.

Mockingly looking down into her tormented face Angelus hotly inquired, “Their lives must be in danger if you sought me out. Refresh my memory darling---just what threat did I give out before I left? I’ve had so much on my mind lately, you know with mass-destruction, murder, and mayhem, that it just must’ve slipped my mind!”

“Stop it!” Pulling her arm away Buffy tightly yelled, “I only said it because I wanted to know if there could be---“ Abruptly she stopped and swallowed several times. Why did he always think the worst of her? She loved him, why couldn’t he understand and accept that?

“Be what?”

“Be something more!” Angrily wiping her eyes she felt her throat close up as a mixture of pain, embarrassment, and confusion overtook her. She was trying to be open with him, but it was so hard. It was humiliating to expose her feelings like this, especially to a vampire that would his weapons against her without rhyme or reason.

“Be something more? How can there ever be something more Buff? After all, you’re the Slayer and I’m just a vamp, isn’t that the right of it? I’m just a nasty vampire that you have to endure between your pure thighs, and given the chance you’d rather put a stake in my heart that keep me in yours.”

Holding her hands out in unconscious supplication Buffy declared, “Goddamn it! You know I love you! What more can you want from me?”

Angelus’ answer was brutal in its honesty. “Total acceptance! Total acceptance as your lover and master!”

Drawing back she whispered, “Master?” The word in itself was horrifying, but the truth was that he had been her master the moment she had seen him in Angel’s apartment. If having this creature occupy her every thought, control the level of joy she experienced, and fulfill her cravings so thoroughly qualified him as Master---then she was already a slave.

Buffy was bonded as a slave to Passion, and Angelus was the physical form of Passion.

“That’s right Buff: Master. That’s what I desire to be to you.”

Despite her humiliating need for him, despite the fact that it had SHE who sought him out, Buffy felt the spark of her spirit flame to fight. “I’m not a piece of property.”

A look of disgust twisted his face. “If that’s the only way you can see it, then there’s nothing left to say. I release you from your obligation to me.”

Her slender brows drew sharply together as she asked, “What do you mean?”

Coldly clarifying he said, “The deal is off. Your precious little humans are no longer hostages to your good behavior. If they die by my hand it will be because they sought me. Nor will I order their executions. You and I are now as before---enemies.”

He waited a moment, as if awaiting her answer. All she murmured, “Haven’t we always been?”

An unreadable expression crossed his face before a smirk lifted his lips and blankness settled over his eyes. Opening up the car door he quickly slipped inside before closing it with a slam. Numbly Buffy watched as he started the car before it squealed away.

He released her. She was given her freedom and there were no consequences to lay in wait of. Somehow Buffy knew that Angelus meant what he said. He would not slaughter them. In a matter of speaking they were returning to status quo.

It's what I should want but that’s not what I want. So why can’t I ever just come out and tell him? Still, it’s not like I really matter to him, other than his pride. A haunting sadness filled her eyes as an excruciating pain settled in her heart.

The night had begun with Angelus seeking her, courting her in his way, and now they ended with him leaving her. He would have left you, but I’m not like him.

Liar!

Forcing the pain deep inside Buffy decided that there was nothing to do except find her way home. Once she got to her dad’s house then she could let all the pain inside of her escape, but not now. If I start crying here, I know I won’t be able to stop.

Observing the desolated road she didn’t see any telephone booths. Hunching her shoulders against the cold night air she decided to walk back to the Jade Tiger and borrow the phone to call a cab.

She could’ve ran back and made it in a couple of seconds, but she didn’t want to. It would only take a few minutes, and they were ones that she desperately needed to find composure.

As she started walking Buffy felt the beautiful chains slide against her waist and thigh, reminding her of what she had just lost. Unwillingly a thought burned itself against her mind, causing unwanted tears to spill from her eyes. I’ve lost them both, Angel and Angelus. They’re both gone and it’s my fault. With one I wanted too much and the other I gave too little.

In that moment Buffy couldn’t know which was which. All she knew was that her heart was breaking all over again.

Suddenly she felt a tremor of unease slide up her spine, effectively slicing through her melancholy thoughts. Abruptly stopping she felt her muscles tense in defense as her eyes quickly scanned the darkness. Immediately five hooded figures emerged from the shadows, surrounding Buffy. Easing into stance she instinctually switched into a battle mentality, ready and willing to fight them all.

In unison all five pushed the black hoods away from their heads, revealing horned and scaly green faces. Three crimson eyes blazed in the center of their foreheads, while they opened their mouths to reveal layers of razor-sharp teeth. Buffy’s nose wrinkled in revulsion as she asked, “How do you pull that look off in, of all places, L.A.?”

None of the demons moved, or acknowledged her insult; instead they merely stood in position. From nowhere a high-pitched, whizzing sound alerted Buffy to turn around before she felt a sharp prick in her neck. Her hand flew up and encountered a tiny protrusion. Pulling it out she winced as she saw the outline of a barbed needle for a split-second before it disappeared, apparently dissolving into her hand.

Her wary eyes flew to the demons as their robes instantly slid off to reveal heavily muscled bodies, an assortment of knives, and vicious-looking axes. As her blood began pumping Buffy could feel an insidious weakness possess her body. It was obvious that she was drugged.

Forcing herself to fight against the weakness Buffy decided to go on the offense. Flinging her body towards the nearest demon she landed several kicks to the chest and one to the head before she heard the rest closing in on her. Vaulting over him she used the demon as a shield before taking one of the wicked daggers from his belt. Pulling the head down she reached around him and sliced deeply into his throat before pushing him towards the others.

The curved blade wouldn’t serve for much against the long reach of those axes, but close quarter combat was her strength. Watching the ranks continue to tighten against her Buffy wished she had just chosen to run to the Jade Tiger instead. Or better yet---had just not driven Angelus away. Suck it up Buffy and do what you do best---fight.

********

Angelus’ hands tightened on the wheel as the maddening fury pumped through his veins. Her love for him was obviously fickle and short-lived. Given the chance Buffy had chosen to keep him as an enemy, instead of a lover. Clenching his fists he felt the plastic and metal begin to give way. Loosening his grip Angelus refused to acknowledge the feelings that resembled the memory he had of pain. No, he was NOT feeling pain at this moment.

Only rage---clear, cleansing rage.

Why would she do it? After all the centuries he had spent traveling this world Angelus had never suffered such a rejection. In truth, he had never presented himself to possible dismissal. Yes he had been rejected before, but not like this. Buffy. The ridiculousness of her name should have made him at least feel better, but it did not.

Was she dancing with joy at finally being rid of him? Was she even at this moment contemplating better-dealing him?

Slamming on the breaks Angelus felt the world turn into a vision of obsessive hate. He had taken on the stance that Buffy’s fall would be of her own choice, her own will. Well FUCK that!

Pressing the gas pedal down while simultaneously turning the wheel Angelus drove as fast as the car could handle. Zooming down the deserted streets he did not care that he had as much as given her an oath of release. In that moment Angelus’ honor meant about as much to him as fairness did---none.

She wouldn’t have gotten far, for in her mind there was no need because she was free.

Cherish these moments darling, cherish them as you would gold, because I’m back lover and I will not make this mistake again.

Quickly closing the distance Angelus’ vision sharpened as the sounds of battle assaulted his ears. What the Hell? A thunderous scowl marred his forehead as he leaned forward over the wheel. The rest of the world disappeared as he could see Buffy desperately fighting against five Ogziwarxs. In a split-second he noticed that her movements were not the usual, instead they were slowed and growing clumsier.

It was obvious that she was going to lose although she was still fighting like Hell. The problem was that Buffy had never battled against one, and he knew that she didn’t know how to kill Ogziwarxs.

A growl of maddened rage tore from his throat as Angelus immediately shifted, his teeth already anticipating tearing into the flesh of his enemies. Launching himself from the car he landed in a solid crouch before taking off a full speed. The discarded car jumped the sidewalk and crashed into the side of a brick building, but he did not notice nor would he have cared. The vampire’s attention was focused solely on reaching and destroying the creatures that dared attack his mistress.

Buffy felt her vision blur as her body slackened. She had already buried two axes deep into the chest of one demon, but neither it nor the one whose throat she had slitted had died. Instead they just kept coming, wearing her down, but not going for the killing blow. Why?

Suddenly she felt someone else. Looking across the distance of night she saw Angelus, his body a mere blur. Joy blossomed in her heart, before she had to refocus her attention on the demons in front of her. It was in that one moment that the Ogziwarx lifted his ax. Before Buffy could command her drugged muscles to move, the demon viciously swung.

Although she managed to jump back it was too late. With an agonized scream Buffy fell into the ground.

Angelus reached them just as Buffy was struck. Hearing the sound of her pain echo in his ears he lost the tenuous grip of all control and reason. With madness pumping through his body Angelus savagely ripped the arm of one Ogziwarx, before digging his fingers into the crimson eyes. With an unearthly howl the demon disappeared into the night. Angelus registered the death with ruthless inventory and was already taking on the other four.

Buffy could hear the bloody battle rage above her but all she could do was bite into her lips to keep from giving into the need to scream. She had never suffered pain this intense, this horrific. She didn’t have to raise her hands to her chest to know that it was a bloody mass of torn skin, tissue, and bone.

Tears streamed down her face as the pain threatened to rob her of sanity. Oh God, oh God, oh GOD!!

With a guttural snarl Angelus hatefully watched the last demon disappear, satisfied with their deaths but only wishing he could have inflicted pain on them longer. A strangled groan snared his attention as he saw Buffy sprawled on the asphalt.

Stalking over to her he forced the destructive rage to recede. Crouching down he quickly observed her terrible wound. The scent of her blood was heavy, and so was the foreign substance within it. Her breastbone had been completely split open, revealing the organs beneath.

A blow of this magnitude should have killed her.

Coldness wrapped its icy claws around his gut. What if he hadn’t come back? Would she be dead already?

Fuck! Coaching his voice to softness he murmured, “Listen to me Baby, listen to my voice.”

Her pain-crazed eyes opened as she fought to drive the blackness away. “Come…to…finish…the…job?”

A tiny measure of respect raced through his mind as he heard the mutinous tone of her voice. “Think I’d tell you?”

A rusty laugh passed her lips before a scowl of pain tightened her mouth. Angelus reached out and cupped her cheek, seeing the wariness in her gaze before hopeful trust won over. Moving her head ever so slightly Buffy took comfort from his hand, even in all of this, enjoying the way his cool flesh felt against hers. Trying to take a deep breath she abruptly stopped, her tiny body wracked in spasms of agonizing pain. Without shame or thought Buffy brokenly admitted, “It hurts Angelus…it hurts so bad!”

“I know it does Baby, I know.” Peering into her chest he could see her body trying to heal itself, but it was doing it at a dangerously slow rate. Already he could see her skin grow paler, and the blood was now longer rushing out with the force of a flood, but merely oozing.

If he didn’t fix this she would die.

Brushing the hair back from her bloodless face Angelus briefly thought of letting her die. Hadn’t he wanted this for her from the very start? Didn’t he fantasize of seeing her life’s blood drain away, leaving her as a gift to Death?

Now the reality was in front of him and Angelus despised it. The Slayer was dying, painfully if her muted cries were any indication, and it filled him with darkness.

She needed blood, plenty of it to weaken the drugs in her system. I could bring her over. Perhaps he should make her into a vampire, bringing her into his fold, therefore keeping an eternal claim on her. Touching her hand Angelus silently recoiled at the feeling of her cold flesh.

No, if she was going to be saved it would be as a human.

Leaning close to her face Angelus steadily said, “Buffy, listen to me. We have to get blood into you.”

“Hospital...”, she soundlessly croaked.

Shaking his head he replied, “No, there’d be too many questions.” Pulling his sleeves up Angelus explained while readying his wrist, “We have to move you but you need more strength first.” Slicing his wrist open he waited until a few rivulets of blood appeared. Sliding an arm beneath her head he forced the darkness away as she pitifully yelled in agony before gritting her teeth.

Holding his wrist in front of her mouth Angelus instructed Buffy to, “Drink.”

Blinking her eyes several times she finally focused on the sight of his wrist. “No,” she mumbled while weakly turning her head away.

“Buffy! We’ve done this before, remember? I’m not turning you, I’m just giving enough to fight the poison in your blood.”

“I can’t turn…I don’t want to…I’d rather die…”

Clenching his jaw Angelus tried to ignore the fact that the Slayer would rather bleed and/or suffocate to death before becoming like him. Ruthlessly he lifted her head back to his wrist, ignoring her strangled cry of pain, and pressed his bleeding wrist against her lips.

Pumping his hand several times he felt the blood course downwards, almost as if the veins were alive. Her lips stayed stubbornly closed until Angelus coldly whispered against her ear, “Buffy if you don’t drink you will die. If you die, I swear to all that you hold holy I will butcher those you love in Sunnydale. I will then hunt down, and slaughter every living member of not only your family, but theirs as well. Now DRINK!”

A few moments passed before he felt her cold lips open. Soon the weak pressure of her mouth grew stronger and stronger. Glancing down at the cavity of her chest he could see the muscles knitting themselves while the bones lengthened.

Pulling his wrist away Angelus looked down and saw tears glistening on her face. Despite the agony of her wound she hadn’t cried---only when she drank from him. Not liking the way that made him feel, Angelus focused his attention on the situation. Leaning down he gently kissed her mouth before saying, “We need to move you.”

Buffy hoarsely coughed, her eyes clenching in pain, before nodding. He could see her steeling herself for the brutal sensations, just as she attempted to rise on her own. Keeping his arm around her shaking body Angelus kept as much of her weight on him, hoping to lessen the pain.

Although it helped she could barely keep from passing out, the agony was that intense. Clutching on his shoulders Buffy shallowly breathed, unable to take any deep breaths. She felt cold, nauseous, tired, sleepy, and crazed all at once.

“Buffy?”

Shifting her glazed eyes she saw Angelus’ face. “What?”

Softly he declared, “I’m going to carry you.”

A spurt of pride made Buffy stop him from bending down. Placing her hand on his chest she weakly announced, “No, I can walk.”

His brows drew together in a scowl as he growled, “Don’t be stupid! I’m going to carry you.” Angelus bent down and carefully picked Buffy up, knowing that despite his best intentions it still hurt like Hell.

Glancing down into her drawn face he saw a fresh flow of tears stream down her face. Before he could gruffly apologize Buffy sobbed, “You’re always yelling at me! I can’t help being who I am---and I’m not stupid!”

Confusion crossed his face. She was crying because he yelled at her? “I’m a vampire, a male vampire, it’s what I do.”

“And I’m 17---it’s what I do!”

Looking down into her pale face Angelus definitely felt bewilderment. Perhaps it was because she was half-mad with pain and his yelling made her sensitive. Brushing a kiss across her forehead Angelus murmured, “You were and are being stupid right now darling. So stop arguing with me and let’s get you healed.”

Without waiting for Buffy’s response he debated on whether to just walk back the one block, therefore keeping her still, or run back and jostling her for a less than a second. Speed won. Carefully holding her against him Angelus let his legs fly and they were immediately in front of the Jade Tiger.

Reaching out with one hand he pulled the door open and strode inside. The hostess immediately saw them and came out to take them upstairs before any patrons noticed their presence. Quickly following the long-haired woman through a maze of corridors Angelus hoped to have Buffy out in less than an hour.

The hostess finally stopped by a darkened room and gestured for Angelus to step inside. Instinctually he scanned it, searching for any would-be attackers. Having the Slayer this weak would eventually bring out challengers, if it hadn’t already, and he would rather spend the rest of the night cuddled in bed with Buffy, rather than destroying all manners of demons.

The room was clean, as were any vents. Bringing her in Angelus gently laid Buffy on the small couch before turning around and saying, “She’s lost a lot of blood and needs a transfusion. Inform the Master that Angelus will see him repaid for his assistance and discretion.”

The woman respectfully nodded before scurrying away. Turning towards Buffy he squelched the urge to sit by her bedside. The room was probably equipped with cameras and to follow the impulse would make him appear weak. So instead he chose to pace, appearing impatient versus worried.

Only a minute passed before a knock sounded at the closed door. Pausing in the middle of the room Angelus ordered, “Come in.” The hostess reappeared and announced, “The Master instructed me to tell you that what you request will be supplied shortly.”

He nodded briefly and replied, “Her blood type will support O positive.”

“Yes sir. If I may be excused?” Seeing Angelus solemnly nod his head the woman quietly closed the door, presumably in search of Buffy’s transfusion.

Turning around Angelus saw Buffy quietly watching him. Coming closer to her he quietly asked, “How do you feel?”

Her lips twisted into a weak smile as she replied, “Considering this hole in my chest, I guess okay.” Quiet for a moment Buffy softly asked, “Angelus?”

“Hmm?” His attention was divided between her and the movements within the building. While he felt rather sure that there was loyalty within, Angelus wasn’t a demon who completely trusted---despite a warm welcome.

“Why did you, I mean---“

Turning his head he abruptly silenced Buffy with, “Not now.”

Her eyes turned into liquid hurt before she truly looked at his expression. Without words he communicated the possible danger of careless words. She slowly blinked, answering him that she understood. Looking up at the ceiling she intently scanned it, searching for a reflection that would betray an electronic eye.

A knock sounded at the door again, alerting them to the hostess. Angelus bade her to enter, intently watching every facet of the woman’s smooth expression. She brought with her the accoutrements of transfusion, approaching Buffy’s side with quick steps. Setting up her equipment she took in the ugly wound with barely a lift of a brow. Before she could touch Buffy’s arm, Angelus seized her wrist.

Buffy’s eyes flew up, confused at his actions.

The hostess betrayed no fear, other than the sound of her heartbeat rising in slight acceleration. Lifting the hand to his face Angelus inhaled, seeking to discover the trace of any toxin that would prematurely end his mistress’ life. Finding nothing he then took a knife seemingly out of nowhere.

“Angelus!” Buffy felt the room swirl as she forced her muscles to obey. She didn’t know what was happening, but she couldn’t allow this.

“Darling, lay back. We don’t want you hurting your lungs, now do we?” Angelus’ voice was smooth, pleasant, and slightly mocking as always. A sweat broke out on Buffy’s forehead from the strain of trying to sit up. Finally she fell back, not out of obedience, but weakness.

Turning his attention to the hostess he murmured, “Let’s just make sure your not carrying anything that might hurt my darling.” With a quick motion he deftly slit the fabric of the brilliantly colored sleeve, and again found nothing.

“I’ll just check the other one for good measure.” Repeating his movements of before Angelus once more found nothing. Releasing the woman he then picked up a bag of blood, sniffing it for impurities of any kind. There were none.

With a gallant wave of his hand he then instructed the hostess to proceed. It went without mentioning that he would be watching her very, very closely.

Buffy felt small, cool hands cut away at her jacket sleeve. Briefly she silently groaned, Oh man, that was one of my favorites. Forcing her eyes to stay open she carefully watched as the transfusion began. Slowly she felt strength return to her body, her breaths no longer stabbing with fury.

Intently taking in the hostess, Buffy, and the room Angelus did not recognize the tenseness that set upon him. The Slayer’s life rested in the hands of another, and this did not suit him at all. What if she did not survive, despite all his efforts? He took cold comfort in the fact that she had been talking, and was able to move, albeit slowly.

Slayer’s healing abilities were amazing, and with their bond, it had become phenomenal, but even so Buffy was not immune to death. And to complicate matters she had been drugged.

Angelus’ thoughts discarded one theory after another as he tried to put the pieces together. Why would she have been drugged, and who would’ve sent Ogziwarxs? Those particular types of demons were assassins, drawing on sheer intimidation and strength of numbers to eliminate their target. She hadn’t turned 18 yet, so that put the Council out; L.A. was filled with enemies for both of them, but still to strike at his mistress was to strike out at him---no creature was that bold.

It was not a statement of arrogance, but truth.

Angelus did not like anomalies---he WOULD discover whose dirty hand was behind this.

His keen gaze studied Buffy’s wound, watching it begin to heal faster and faster as she received more blood. Finally the transfusion stopped just as the skin knitted itself, a vivid red line showing where the split had occurred, until it too faded away.

The hostess gathered her equipment, offered a respectful bow to Buffy before leaving her side. Buffy called out her thanks and sat up, not really paying attention to what was being said to Angelus. She halfway expected to experience gut-churning pain again, but there was nothing more than a twinge. Peering down she examined her torn shirt and sports bra, again shocked at what had happened.

All evidence of drugs appeared to be out of her system, thanks to the infusion of new blood and apparently her body’s healing chemistry. Still, who would’ve gone out of their way to shoot her with some kind of drug? If this was going to be a new method of battle, not only was it dirty, but it stunk!

A warm cloth suddenly touched her chest, gently washing away the traces of blood, bone, and flesh. Looking up Buffy studied Angelus’ impassive profile, and felt a swelling of love for him. He had come back, and not only had he come back, but he had saved her.

Her small hand reached out and lovingly stroked his cool cheek, immediately drawing his fierce black gaze towards her. “Thank you.”

He briefly paused in his task, acknowledging her words with the stillness of his hand, before continuing. Removing the cloth from her he reached about and squeezed the excess in one bowl before dipping it into another. They both sat there in silence until Buffy was as clean as she was going to be without a shower.

Laying the cloth in the clean bowl of water Angelus stood up and asked, “Ready to go lover?”

Quickly standing up Buffy walked towards the door before being stopped by Angelus saying, “Not like that you don’t.”

Halfway turning to him she opened her mouth to refute him before catching sight of her naked breasts. Crossing her arms over her chest she wryly smiled before weakly saying, “Oh.”

“Oh is right. Stay here.” Angelus exited the room leaving Buffy by herself. She let out a long sigh and felt the urge to just leave. Maybe from now on she should carry a pair of backup clothes, just in case a demon buries an axe in her chest again.

He was back within a few moments, a red top in his hand. Tossing it to her he said, “Put this on.”

Catching it with one hand Buffy shed her mangled clothes and slipped the shirt over her head. With a saucy twirl she haughtily asked, “Is this more pleasing?”

A smirk lifted one corner of his mouth as Angelus replied, “What will be more pleasing is when you’re naked and in my bed---but for now it will do.”

Grabbing her hand Angelus led them out of the room, warily looking up and down the corridor. It was empty. With a surety that hinted at practice he easily traveled the maze of hallways until they reached the staircase that led down to the restaurant. Pausing at the top he released Buffy’s hand and gave her a look over. The shirt, while it fit fine, was short-sleeved and wouldn’t do anything to keep out the cold.

Shrugging out of his coat he placed it over her small shoulders. “Let’s go.” Striding down the steps he heard the slither of leather as it trailed over each step. Business was still brisk despite the late hour, yet no one noticed their presence when they reached the main floor. With a nod towards the hostess Angelus made his way to the door, hearing Buffy still behind him.

Glancing at the hostess Buffy took in her new dress, remembering how Angelus had ruined the other one. Catching her eye she stopped and gave a bow, deep with thanks and appreciation. Clutching Angelus’ coat tighter she then turned towards the door where he was waiting.

Holding the door open he placed his hand on the small of her back and led her outside to an awaiting car. Pausing Buffy looked him and softly asked, “Is that for us?”

Without looking down at her Angelus shortly answered, “Yes.”

“Do you think it’s safe?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Well, you didn’t seem to trust them too much inside.”

“No, I trusted them as much as I could.”

Buffy’s brow lifted in questioning skepticism. Opening the passenger door Angelus commented, “If I didn’t trust them I wouldn’t have brought you here.” Waiting until she was settled comfortably in the leather seat he propped one hand on the roof and leaned in. “I would’ve also taken some hostages, held them till you were healed, killed them, and then torched the place afterwards.”

Closing the door on Buffy’s expression of horror and disgust Angelus didn’t examine on why he had purposely admitted to a truth that he knew would shock her. Coming around the car he opened up the driver’s door and slid in, enjoying the feel of the car. Without glancing at his watch he knew that sunrise was only under two hours away.

He had better get them to his room before then.

Starting up the car he pulled away from the Jade Tiger and sped towards his hotel. Glancing over he saw that Buffy had her eyes closed, her shoulders slowly relaxing as the warmth of the car took over. Focusing back on the road he smiled in grim satisfaction. His mistress was safe and would continue to be so.

Angelus deftly maneuvered the sedan along the highway, observant of his speed and the traffic, but his mind was miles away. Someone had tried to assassinate his lover, and that crime would not go unpunished. Smelling the remnants of her blood he clenched his jaw in renewed fury.

He would solve this mystery and the world might very well tremble from it by the time he was through.

Unaware of Angelus’ passionate vow, Buffy felt sleep draw its silken net over her, slowing her body into the rhythm of rest. Before Dream could fully lull her mind she suddenly spoke aloud, “If I wasn’t drugged, I could’ve taken them.”

A heartbeat passed before she felt his cool hand briefly caress her cheek. “I know you would’ve.” Unbeknownst to Angelus a note of pride in her abilities slipped past his control, and communicated itself to Buffy.

Hearing it, but too afraid that it too would disappear along with his kindness, she remembered Angelus’ earlier words: Is it such a crime to enjoy your time with me Buff?

Silently Buffy thought, No, it’s not a crime Angelus. It’s just dangerous. To me. To my heart.

Next Chapter