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Eviscerate Me, My Love	By : jsu1660n Category: -Buffy the Vampire Slayer > Het - Male/Female > Angel(us)/Buffy > Angel(us)/Buffy Views: 8793 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I receive no profit from this fan fiction.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
A/N: Graphic noncon towards the end of this chapter.

Part V.
Rupert Giles sat alone in his apartment staring almost listlessly at the file on his Slayer. He leaned back against his couch recalling his first encounter with Buffy Summers. She was a willful, strong-minded child, really, who wanted nothing more than to be a normal teenage girl with normal teenage girl responsibilities. She even went as far as to declare herself retired! But even with all of her doubts and wishing away of her destiny, Giles could see that his young charge cared far too much for the welfare of others to ever turn her back on her duties.
What a difference a year could make. More to the point, what a difference one vampire with a soul could make. When Angel first emerged, Giles was naturally suspicious, but he proved to be a true asset to the team and he seemed to be a positive source of motivation for Buffy. In many ways, he helped mold her into what she is today. And then they discovered that Angel was really Angelus, but had spent the latter half of his existence seeking redemption for his crimes against man. Reason being, he was the first vampire to be cursed with a soul. Soul or no soul, Giles was wary of the vampire. They all were, but Buffy seemed to trust him implicitly. And look where it had gotten them.
When they all first realized that Angel had become Angelus again, Giles remembered his own words with frightening clarity. “I’m leaning towards blind panic.” He smirked bitterly, staring up at the stucco ceiling. He knew that Angel moving into enemy territory would be hard on Buffy. How could it not be when the man she loved made a spectacle of recalling their first sexual encounter with crude and hurtful imagery at their every confrontation?
Giles expected Angelus to use Buffy’s weakness for Angel against her. He expected Buffy to hesitate even, but what he didn’t expect was for the fallout that would follow. He didn’t expect his beloved Jenny to be a gypsy from the same clan that cursed Angelus with a soul, nor did he expect her to be a spy for them, using everyone around her. Including him.
And it wasn’t as if she didn’t have every opportunity to tell him the truth. To give him hints, tell him something, anything that would have prevented the loss of Angel’s soul from coming to pass.
The first night they made love, she told him she loved him. They were in his bed and she had laid her head on his chest, listening to the thump-thump-thump of his heart beating. “I love you, Rupert,” she whispered. He was fairly sure that somewhere in his bumbling stutters that he returned her sentiments.
Now he would never hear those words again. It had been a week since she disappeared. Two weeks since the police backed off on investigating it. Three weeks since she was officially declared dead.
“Strange things happen in this town, Mr. Giles,” Detective Winslow said to him. “People disappear. Sometimes they come back. And sometimes when they do…you wish they would have stayed missing.”
When they first discovered Jenny’s disappearance, Giles was devastated. He blamed himself. How could he not when he left her at the school alone because she kept Buffy’s affair with Angelus a secret? And then there was Buffy herself. He stood back in silence as Xander raged at her. He accused Buffy of allowing Angel to pick them off one by one. A part of Giles wanted to defend Buffy. He wanted to protect the girl he had started to think of as his daughter from the boy’s jealousy driven attack. But the other part of him, the part of him that grieved for Jenny, stood there in silence and let it happen.
Buffy took the insults and name calling without argument and when she turned to him, eyes wide and filled with guilt and apologies, he could only say, “leave. I don’t want to see you right now.” He could tell from her lack of reaction that Buffy expected as much from him. Deep down, Giles knew that they were all reacting the way Angelus wanted them to. He studied enough of the demon to know that he sought to isolate Buffy from those that she loved and loved her. If anything, they were all making it too easy for Buffy to be left vulnerable to the sadistic vampire.
Giles swallowed down his liquor, wincing as it burned his throat. Tomorrow. He would forgive Buffy. He couldn’t completely trust her just yet, but he knew he would. In time.
He closed his eyes, ready to succumb to the drowsiness that came over one when he’s had more than too much to drink, when there was a pounding at his door. He groaned as the pounding seemed to go straight to his brain.
“Who the bloody hell is it?” he grumbled, standing shakily. He stumbled his way towards the door. The banging continued, growing more and more frantic. “Alright, alright! Don’t bang it off the bloody hinges!” he opened the door and it was as if the breath had left his body. “Je-Jenny?”
She wore the same clothes as she had the night she disappeared. Her hair was disheveled. She was dirty, bruised and bloody, and she was terrified. “Rupert, please, can I come in? They’re right behind me! Don’t let them get me!”
“Come in! Come in!” he said, pulling her inside. Never once did he consider how odd it was for her to ask permission to enter. “They won’t get in here,” he said, closing and locking the door. “Are you alright?” he said, touching her face, barely believing she was really there. “No, of course you’re not. Stupid question. Come. Sit.” He led her to the couch, placing a quilt around her shoulders. “We looked everywhere. What happened to you?”
“Angelus,” she whispered fearfully.
“I promise you, Jenny, I will stake that bastard if it’s the last thing I do.”
“Oh, Rupert, don’t talk like that. I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you,” she said, burying her face in his neck.
He winced slightly at the temperature of her skin, but he reasoned it out that it could only have been from being tortured for so long. Anything else, well, he didn’t want to consider. “Wait right here.”
“No, don’t leave me,” she whispered, clinging to him.
“I won’t leave you, love, I just want to clean you up a bit.” He gently disentangled himself from the frightened woman and went to the kitchen. He put on the kettle for tea, filled a bowl with warmed water and retrieved a washcloth from the linen closet. “We searched the factory. Practically tore the place apart for anything,” he said, dabbing the cloth against her skin. “There was no sign of them anywhere.”
“He didn’t take me to the factory. We went somewhere else. He knocked me out and when I woke up, I was in a dark room chained to the wall,” she shuddered.
“It’s alright. We don’t have to talk about this now. I’m just so grateful you’re alive.”
“The only thing that kept me going, kept me fighting was imagining the first moment we would be together again. This moment.” She straddled his lap, unbuttoning his shirt.
“Jenny, you’ve been through a horrific ordeal. We shouldn’t –”
“Sshh. I need you inside me, Rupert. Please.” He hesitated in his arguments and she took that moment to hike her skirt up around her waist.
Giles stared at her smooth, dark thighs and flinched at her absence of underwear. “I swear if they’ve touched you –!”
“Sshh,” she said, pressing her finger against his lips. “None of that matters now. Tonight is about us.” She unbuttoned his pants, freeing his hard cock from his trousers. She gasped and moaned, sinking herself down onto him. “God, I’ve missed this.”
Giles struggled through his inebriated haze and opened his eyes, ignoring the tight, wetness of his lover riding him. “Jenny…you’re…you’re…”
“Cold, my love?” she moaned, taking him deeper inside her.
He groaned, gripping her hips even as tears fell from his eyes. “Not you, Jenny. Please, god, not you.”
“Oh, god, Rupert, I’ve never felt so alive!” she said, using her newly gained strength to pin his shoulders back against the couch. “I wish you could come with me, my love, I really do,” she moaned. “But my sire. He truly despises you. And his sweet little Buffy…he’ll own ever drop of her pain for you.”
“Buffy…Angelus…no…”
“Don’t worry,” she said, bearing his throat to her when she felt him about to come. “I’ll make sure she never forgets you, Rupert. I promise.”
Even outside, Giles’s agonized screams and Jenny’s hunger filled growls could be heard.
~…*…~
He couldn’t help but to marvel over the way the way her skin glistened with sweat, how her eyebrows scrunched and how her little lips puckered and parted. They were in her house. Her mother was still a no-show, and had only been home once while she was in school, and Angelus managed to convince Buffy that they should use the big bed. She vehemently refused, but she gave in when he promised to let her ride him.
And so there they were. Angelus sprawled out underneath Buffy. His hands arrogantly laced behind his head. Her scorching wet heat gripping him tighter each time she sank down on his cock.
“Angelus,” she moaned, bracing her hands on his thighs for leverage.
His dark eyes slithered down to where they were joined. He watched, transfixed over the sight of his cock disappearing inside her and the wet trail of her arousal soaking him as she came up. He could feel her gaze. And when he finally did meet her eyes, he nearly came from the pain and withheld tears. She had yet to confront him about the gypsy, but he could see that she was about to crack.
Her nails left bloody scratches in his chest. She held his gaze as she licked up every drop of his blood. “Quite the masterpiece you’ve become, lover.”
Buffy closed her eyes, feeling the grief and pain well inside her just as her orgasm consumed her. Angelus held back, waiting for the perfect moment. He watched her eyes already scenting her tears. The large teardrops rolled slowly down her long lashes before falling in perfect harmony down the golden skin of her cheeks. He gripped her hips, coming hard within her, a deep growl rumbling in his chest.
She collapsed against his chest, reluctant to separate their bodies. She lay back, absently twirling her ring around her finger.
“Something troubling you, lover?” Angelus called mockingly, his fingers tracing her bellybutton.
“No.”
He tsked, shaking his head. “There have never been lies between us, Buff. Let’s not start now.”
“No lies, but plenty of secrets?”
“Not from me. I’m an open book. Ask away.”
She looked up into his brown eyes and it still amazed her how much cruelty and scorn she saw within their dark depths. As hopeless as she knew it was, Buffy still searched his eyes for any trace of her Angel. Any hint of the man she would die a thousand painful deaths for, just to see him one more time before she said goodbye to the world that turned its back on her even as she sought to protect it.
“How about this,” he said, realizing that she would never ask him outright. “Why don’t I tell you exactly why I killed the little gypsy?”
“I don’t want to talk about this. Not now. Please,” she begged, squeezing her eyes shut.
In the time it took her to close her eyes, Angelus had moved on top of her and pinned her hands to the bed. With one quick thrust, he sheathed himself inside her leaking core. “I had to do it, Buff,” he said, making painstakingly slow thrusts as she hitched her leg around his hip.
“Why?” she gasped, struggling to focus.
“Because she was the only person left that could bring back your beloved Angel.” He groaned deeply as her rage, sorrow and helplessness hit him all at once. “See,” he said, through gritted teeth. “Janna was determined to make things right for you and Ripper. The only way to do that was to bring back Angel. The night I killed her,” he forced himself to maintain his pace as the urge to pound her through the mattress nearly overtook him. “She translated the Soul Restoration Curse. She probably would have cursed me that night if I had not stopped her.”
“Then…Angel’s gone…forever?” she whispered.
“Forever.”
Her eyes filled with tears and her bottom lip quivered. He leaned down, biting her quivering lip, tasting her addictive blood. Her hazel eyes blazed in rage and misery and Angelus found himself unable to look away. “Aw, don’t be so sad, lover,” he mocked in panting breaths. “Your friends vilify you rather than attempting to understand your feelings. Your mother only wants to believe that you’re destined to do wrong rather than accept what’s been in front of her the whole time. I’m all you have left,” he said, thrusting harder. “But look on the bright side. They’ll forgive you in death.”
Buffy glared up at him, fighting back her quickly approaching orgasm. “What makes you think that it won’t be me that kills you?”
Angelus lips curved in a cruel smirk as he interlaced their fingers in a mockingly tender embrace. “Because you still love Angel,” he said, slamming into her. “And you would rather have the darkest part of him then none at all. Wouldn’t you, Buffy?” he whispered.
She came undone the moment he whispered her name as softly and as lovingly as Angel used to. He bit into her breast falling over the edge mere moments after she did. He collapsed on top of her, burying his face in her neck.
Buffy knew Angelus was right. She wasn’t sure if she would ever find the strength to drive her stake through his heart. Not when she still found it impossible to let go of Angel. Their hands were still intertwined, exactly as they were the night she and Angel made love. Their Claddagh rings were together and Buffy had never missed Angel more than she had in that moment. She felt Angelus nuzzling her neck and soon cried herself to sleep, hoping that at least in her dreams she could escape the reality that she would never see Angel again.
Buffy awoke in a cemetery. She was well aware that she was dreaming, but she feared it was another one of her prophetic Slayer dreams. She was on the ground nearly covered by the late night fog. She wore a very short and tight red dress with no shoes. Across the grass there was a funeral procession gathered around a freshly covered grave. Two people stood on each side. As Buffy got closer, she recognized them as Xander and Cordelia and Willow and Oz.
“Guys?” she whispered.
Cordelia nestled herself against Xander’s shoulder. He met her eyes and Buffy expected to see anger and hate. But what she saw there was even more devastating. She saw defeat.
“Xander?”
“How many more of us have to die, Buffy?” he said in a voice that was as lifeless as his eyes.
To her left, Willow sniffled and clutched Oz’s hand refusing to meet her eyes. They were all dressed in black and mourning. Buffy summoned her last bit of remaining courage and forced herself to look at the gravestone.
Rupert Giles.
“No!” she said, covering her eyes. “I want to wake up. I want to wake up. I want to wake up!” she screamed, pulling at her hair, hoping the pain would end the dream. She felt the trickle of awareness and knew he was behind her before he even spoke.
“Waking up won’t make all that of a difference, lover.” His strong arms encircled her waist, allowing her to lean back against him. *“You have to know what to see,” he said, repeating his exact words to her when she discovered that Ms. Calendar was partly responsible for his reemergence.
Reluctantly, Buffy drew her hands away from her face and screamed. Ms. Calendar, in full vamp face, perched on top of Giles’s gravestone with blood dripping from her mouth and hands.
“Giles!” Buffy yelled, sitting up in the bed. “Oh, god, no.” She scrambled out of bed, barely registering that Angelus was gone. She grabbed the phone from her mother’s nightstand and dialed Giles’s number as she struggled to pull up her jeans. “Come on, Giles. Pick up. Pick up.” The line rung several times before it clicked. “Giles! Are you alright?”
“I’m sorry, Buffy, but Giles can’t come to the phone right now.”
Buffy dropped the phone to the floor and dashed off to her bedroom. She grabbed three emergency stakes in addition to the one she kept with her and hurried out of the house. She ran as fast as her legs could carry her, refusing to think the worst. She was covered in sweat by the time she made it to Giles’s apartment and it felt as though her lungs would burst. But none of that mattered when she saw that his apartment door was opened and the sound of his whistling teakettle filled her ears.
“Giles?” she called, pushing the door open. The coppery scent of spilled blood hit her nose and she could see the crimson stains on the couch. “Giles, answer me!” there was a trail leading from the couch to the stairs. “Giles?” she whispered. Everything felt surreal. Buffy’s body moved on autopilot as she followed the bloody trail up the stairs. With each step of coming closer to her Watcher’s bedroom, Buffy’s legs felt as though they were weighed down with lead. Looking back on it, she would recall finding Giles’s body in his bed. He was turned towards her, a look of horror etched in his blue eyes. There was blood everywhere. A gaping hole was in his throat and a message written in his blood was on the wall.
Embrace Your Destiny
*“Are you insane?” Spike raged from their new residence at the Crawford Street Mansion. “You were supposed to kill the ponce, not leave him as a gag gift in his bed.”
Janna rolled her eyes and picked at her nails. “I was only doing what I was told, Spike. And I think it was an ingenious idea.”
“Thank you, Janna,” Angelus said, descending the stairs.
“And Spike,” Drusilla said, clutching her puppy. “The stars told me that everything would change. The Watcher would forgive Kitten for her weakness. We would all have died if he didn’t die first. Isn’t that right, Sunshine?”
“You worry too much,” Angelus shrugged dismissively.
“I am trapped in a madhouse,” Spike sighed, looking to the ceiling for guidance. *“I love a good slaughter as much as the next bloke, but you two and your little pranks will only leave us with one incredibly brassed-off Slayer!”
*“Don’t worry, roller boy,” Angelus said, fed up with Spike’s complaining. “I’ve got everything under control.” As soon as he said the words, an arrow sailed through the air, piercing Angelus’ left shoulder.
“Yeah, we can tell,” Spike smirked.
Buffy fired off another arrow hitting him in his right shoulder, leaving him pinned against the wall. *“Hello, lover,” she said almost pleasantly, before firing two more, one in each forearm.
Drusilla took a step towards Angelus to help her sire when Spike grabbed her arm, pulling her out of the Slayer’s line of fire. *“Uh-uh,” he admonished. “No fair going into the ring unless he tags you first.”
“Buff,” Angelus said through gritted teeth. His skin was already beginning to heal around the arrows. “Had I known you enjoyed playing so rough I would have whipped you more often.” His eyes slid over her. She wore skintight black jeans, boots, and a sleeveless tank. Almost every inch of her was covered in blood. “Your old man’s blood looks good on you,” he leered.
“Well, don’t worry, baby, I’ll let you show your appreciation in just a moment.” She turned her back on Angelus spotting Ms. Calendar who leaned casually beside the fireplace. “Being undead suits you.”
“Why thank you, Buffy,” she said as they began to circle one another. Each looking for the other’s weakness. “Sadly, Rupert didn’t agree with you.” She saw Buffy’s eyes narrowing and decided to push a little further. “In fact, it was the worst thing he could imagine. But I can assure you, Buffy, he died a very happy man.”
Buffy growled and kicked Ms. Calendar’s legs out from under her. Buffy sensed Angelus minions edging closer from their hiding places, itching to get a piece of the legendary Slayer. But Buffy anticipated this. She pulled the drawstring bag from her pocket and spread the black powder it carried into a wide circle around them. She lit a match and watched as a large ring of fire encircled them.
“Didn’t anyone ever warn you about the dangers of playing with fire, little girl?” Ms. Calendar hissed in full vamp face, unwilling to show how afraid she really was.
“Blah, blah, blah, can I just kill you already?”
Ms. Calendar managed to get in a few punches and kicks. She was strong, but she was a fledge and severely untrained. She was quickly overcome by Buffy’s rage as the Slayer recalled Giles’s bloody body. When Buffy had her on her back, the stake raised above her head, Ms. Calendar called out for Angelus.
“Sorry, Janna,” he called back. “But you were as they say…expendable.”
“That means you die now!” Buffy drove the stake into her un-beating heart as she screamed before combusting into dust. Buffy rose slowly amidst the raging flames. With one look to Angelus minions, they scattered without preamble.
“Bloody cowards,” Spike muttered.
But at that moment, Buffy’s hazel eyes, her Slayer’s eyes, focused only on Angelus. He shuddered slightly seeing a promise of death in those eyes. She stepped through the fire, her stake clutched in her hand. “You just don’t know when to stop, do you, Angelus? It wasn’t enough to isolate me from my friends, from my mother, you had to take away Giles, too?”
“Well, what can I say?” he said, attempting to dislodge the arrows from his arms. “I wanted you all to myself.”
“How very selfish of you.”
*“Now that’s everything, huh?” he smirked as her face contorted in rage. “No Watcher…No mother…No friends… take all that away…and I am all you have left, lover,” he reminded her.
“Then I’d rather have nothing!” she yelled, plunging the stake in his chest just as he freed his right shoulder. He moved and the stake barely missed his heart by an inch. Angelus groaned in pain as Buffy covered her mouth horrified, not yet realizing that she didn’t pierce his heart. “Oh, god, Angel,” she whispered.
Spike and Drusilla backed away slowly, seeing the rage in their sire’s yellow tinged eyes. “You really shouldn’t have said that, pet.”
With his free hand, Angelus quickly backhanded her. He ripped the arrows out of his arms, gritting his teeth as his blood splattered to the floor before his wounds healed themselves. The stake still lodged in his chest, he glared down at Buffy as she spits blood from her mouth where he hit her. “You thrust your stake through my chest and then dare to grieve for your precious Angel?” he kicked her hard, catching her lower ribs. She crashed into the wall, crumbling it. Angelus ripped the stake out of his chest with a loud growl that made his minions cower away as blood soaked his second favorite silk shirt. “Bitch!” he yelled. He stalked towards Buffy’s unconscious body and picked her up by her hair. “Don’t wait up,” he called to his childer, draping Buffy over his shoulder.
Spike watched his sire carry the unconscious Slayer from the mansion as Drusilla ordered the minions to put out the fire. *“God, he’s going to kill her.” He watched them disappear before shrugging and pulling Drusilla onto his lap.
“Little bitch thinks she can kill me? I’ll show her, oh, will I show her!”Angelus raged all the way out of the mansion.
Buffy regained consciousness as soon as Angelus dumped her onto the bed. She tried to move, but a dizzy spell came over her suddenly and her ribs ached from when he kicked her. The pain and disorientation forced her back into position. “Where…where am I?” she whispered, fighting off her need to pass out again.
“Don’t you recognize it, lover?” Angelus said, sounding too calm. “This is where it all began.”
Buffy opened her eyes, looking around the room. She was immediately submerged in her memories of Angel, unaware that Angelus had begun to undress. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered oath rushed back to her as she gasps. Buffy’s tears fall and dripped onto the sheets, sheets that still smell like Angel and her shampoo. But then she remembered the last time she was there and Angelus hurtful words.
“Lighten up. It was a good time. It doesn’t mean like we have to make a big deal.”
*“It is a big deal,” she whispered aloud, reliving one of her most painful memories of him.
Angelus chuckled darkly, stalking closer to her trembling form. *“It’s what? Bells ringing, fireworks, a dulcet choir of pretty little birdies?” he recited, reliving one of his most cherished memories of her. “Come on, Buffy. It’s not like I’ve never been there before.”
His touch against her skin jars her out of her horrible reverie as she realized that they had come full circle. *“Don’t touch me,” she whispered.
“Oh, Buff, I’m going to do a lot more than touch you, lover.”
Buffy looked at Angelus finally realizing that he was naked and aroused. “No!” she scrambled off the bed, only for him to grab her wrist and pull her back. She ignored her aching ribs, certain that there were at least three broken and tried to fight him desperate to escape the graphic reality of what was about to happen to her. He punched her hard in the face and pushed her onto the bed. “Angelus, please don’t do this. Not here, not like this!” she begged as he tore off her clothes, leaving her wearing nothing but her ring.
He ignored her pleadings and turned her over onto her stomach. Inside him, Angel was in tears offering any and everything he had to his demon so that Angelus wouldn’t violate Buffy. But it was hopeless. Angelus, driven by rage, and what he considered Buffy’s betrayal, stretched her arms above her head, rejoicing in her pained cries. Buffy screamed and sobbed as he thrust inside her. His large girth entering her dry passage hurt as if they had never been intimate with one another.
Angelus withdrew halfway, pleased by the sight of the Slayer’s blood smeared on his cock. He thrusts back in just as harshly. It didn’t have to be this way. He didn’t necessarily have to hurt her in such a barbaric way. But it was her fault! All she had to do was avenge her little Watcher and beg him for death. That was the plan! And even when she almost staked him, Angelus would have forgiven her for her monumental lapse in judgment had she not said his name. After all they had been through, all they had shared, she still would choose that sniveling soul over him? Sure, Angelus might have alienated her from her mother and her friends, but he didn’t butcher them and leave behind their entrails for her to find as he would have in the old days. He deserved her! Not Angel! Angel wasn’t even real. He was at best an unwelcomed guest in his body. Angelus face shifted as he felt his balls begin to tighten.
“Something I haven’t told you, Buff. You know how Janna told you that Angel was in the ether. That he was in his own personal heaven, oblivious to what was going on in this plane? She lied,” he whispered in her ear. He exhaled deeply and his eyes rolled back in his head as he felt the strongest surge of the Slayer’s pain envelop him. “You see this entire time, Buff, I kept him with me. He sees everything that I see and feels what I feel. He saw every time you parted your thighs for me, welcoming me inside. He felt every time you wrapped your lips around my cock, hungry to take in every inch. He even heard how you cried out my name every time you came. So you can grieve for Angel as much as you want, lover, but he knows exactly the type of whore you have become in his death.”
“Please, Angelus,” she whimpered tearfully.
“Please what?” he growled, still livid over her disregard over how deep his – ugh, feelings – ran for her.
“Please…please kill me.”
His hand tangled in her hair, bearing her golden throat to him. “With pleasure.” He bit down, streaming his seed inside her the second her sweet blood touched his tongue. He drank greedily feeling his body strengthen from her Slayer’s blood. He bit down harder, his fangs scrapping the bone as she screamed.
All she could do was scream.
~…*…~
Buffy opened her eyes to a peach light filling the room. A sign that the sun had begun to set. She lay on her side facing the wall in a bed too comfortable to be her own. The sheets and comforter had been pulled back and settled around her ankles. Buffy felt a warm touch to her hip and a soft kiss pressed against her shoulder. She smiled, closing her eyes. “Angel.”
She turned over on her side to face him, unsurprised to find him as naked as she was. He took her hand, kissing her ring as she had kissed his on the docks. “I missed you, Buffy.”
“I missed you, too.” For a while, she was content to hold his hand and stare into his brown eyes, grateful to see none of what had become the familiar hate and scorn there, but Angelus horrible words still echoed in her mind like the burning pain of a fresh cut. “Angel, I –”
“We don’t have to talk about it, Buffy. We don’t have to bring that monster into our bed.”
She couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips when she heard him say our bed. “Am I…?” but she didn’t finish. Somehow, she already knew the answer. “I didn’t think death would be so painful.”
Angel’s gentle brown eyes regarded her sadly. “He wanted it to hurt as much as possible.”
“He hates me,” she said, almost surprised at her own lack of reaction.
“Only because you make him feel things besides bloodlust and malice. And because of how much you love me.”
She moved closer to him, resting her head onto his chest. Angel didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her and kiss the top of her head. “I can’t believe how warm you feel. And your heart,” she whispered, not wanting to miss one moment of the sound of his heart beating in sync with her own. “This is the most beautiful sound in the world.” Buffy felt Angel’s body tremble beneath hers. “Angel?” she pulled herself up a little, peering down into his face. “Angel?” but he wouldn’t look at her. His eyes were adverted towards the window where the peach light streamed in. She watched the tears fall from his eyes and felt sick. He shouldn’t be in pain. Not in this place where pain didn’t belong. “What’s wrong?”
“Can you ever forgive me, Buffy?” he met her eyes and she wanted to die again just so she could escape the torture of seeing her love in pain. “I can’t say that I regret our night together because I don’t. But I prayed to every god, deity, and even a few demons that you would never have to know him and his evil. You didn’t deserve it. Any of it.”
“Angel, stop,” she whispered. “There is nothing to forgive because this wasn’t your fault. If there is anyone to blame it’s the gypsies for being cruel enough to implement a happiness clause to your soul anyway. It makes me so furious to think that instead of punishing him, they punish you and declare that you don’t deserve even a moment of happiness.”
“But Buffy, I AM him.”
“How can you say that?” she gasped. “How can you even think that?”
“It was why you went to him…why you let him…” he squeezed his eyes shut, but his tears kept falling.
“You will never know how much I regret that. Angel, every time I was with him, I thought that I could maybe reach you. That somehow you would come back to me.”
“I’m so sorry I left you to him.”
“You didn’t leave me. You were taken from me.” Buffy lay her head back onto Angel’s chest, hugging him until his tears stopped. “I felt so empty without you, Angel. So lost. No one really seemed to understand how hard it was…existing without you.”
“For the billions of people in the world, only a select few will be lucky enough to feel a fraction of what we share,” he said, twirling her hair around his finger.
“And being here with you now – wherever here is – it almost feels as if we’ve never really been apart.”
“Buffy,” she immediately noticed the reluctant tone of his voice. “We’re in the ether.”
Buffy lifted her head, shock and a little horror filling her eyes. “The ether? But then that means…he really did it.” She returned to Angel’s arms, shivering despite the warmth of his body.
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t stop it. Any of it.”
A vivid recollection of her last moments with Angelus flashed in her mind and she started to shiver again. Angel held her tighter as if to protect her from those memories. “Does this mean that I won’t get to see Giles? That I won’t get to apologize?”
“You’ll see Giles again, sweetheart. Just not today. He wanted some time alone with Jenny first. She feels almost as guilty as you do.”
“Ms. Calendar’s here?” she said with a hopeful smile.
“She’s here, and,” he began hesitantly. “There are others here. Things work differently on this plane. It’s kind of like what’s happened here is delayed on earth.”
“Others? People I know?” she whispered, fearfully.
“I’m afraid so. Do you want to know –?”
“No. No, not just yet,” she said, overcome with guilt. “I just…I just want to be with you before I have to deal with the harsher realities.”
They lay in silence and Buffy started to drift off to sleep as Angel trailed his fingertips up and down her spine. “Angel,” she hesitated.
“Yes?”
“Am I,” she swallowed hard, unable to meet his eyes. “Am I still your girl?”
He said nothing for a moment and Buffy felt her tears slide down her cheeks. She couldn’t blame him for not wanting her the same as he did before everything had gotten so messed up. Not after all that she had done. He cupped her chin, gently lifting her head so that their eyes met. He kissed her lips softly, carefully, almost forgetting that he was not a 200-year-old vampire anymore.
“Always, my beloved. Always.”

*Quotes taken from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 2 Passion, Becoming, Part 2 & Innocence episodes.
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Eviscerate Me, My Love