Adult-FanFiction.org : Buffy

The Shock of the Normal	By : QueenB Category: AtS/BtVS Crossovers > Het - Male/Female > Angel(us)/Buffy > Angel(us)/Buffy Views: 10695 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
“You’re quitting?” Ms. Ross didn’t look surprised so much as a little hurt. Other employees came and went with depressing regularity but Ms. Summers had seemed one of those determined to stick it out until she made manager. True, Buffy had a streak of individuality that sat ill with Doublemeat Palace policies. But after the petite blonde woman had revealed her knowledge of the DMP’s company secret and her intention to keep that secret, Ms. Ross had been certain the girl intended to stay under their roof.
Buffy smiled radiantly though every instinct was screaming at her to reconsider. The last thing she wanted was to join the ranks of the unemployed. But she’d had a long hard talk with Angel last night. Flipping burgers for a living wasn’t going to meet expenses, no matter how many double shifts she pulled. He thought hiring her as an employee of A.I. and having her work in her own capacity as a fellow warrior for the PTB would be more than enough to pay the bills.
It sounded like a great idea--on the surface. Still she remembered her one botched attempt to get paid to be a fighter. Could she really balance her Slayer duties, make money, take care of her little sister and keep her fragile new relationship with Angel intact?
One look at his face and she knew her answer. Of course she could make this work. It would be a struggle to juggle the different aspects of her new life. But what about the Slayer gig wasn’t? Now that she had the missing part of herself, he would make it all worthwhile.
“I’m afraid so, Ms. Ross. I’ve gotten a better offer somewhere else.”
“It’s those McDonald’s people, isn’t it? As if a manic redheaded clown is any way to sell food,” the other woman replied with a scowl.
“It’s nothing like that. In fact, I’ve decided to quit the food industry altogether. I’m going into protection instead.”
The fair-headed manager’s eyebrows shot up almost to her hairline. “You’re joining the mob?”
“No! I’m going into the security business. You know, providing protection for people’s homes, their families, that kind of dealie.”
Ms. Ross eyed the other woman up and down. Buffy knew what she was thinking; her petite size meant people were always underestimating her abilities as a fighter. “Oh. Well, good luck with that. As for the DMP secret…”
“It dies with me! My lips are totally zipped. I doubt the people I’ll be working for will care about what goes into processed meats. It was good working for you, Ms. Ross. Thanks for giving me a chance.” Buffy stood up and extended her hand to the woman behind the desk.
Ms. Ross shook it with a decisive, no-nonsense briskness that Buffy suspected had been drilled into her in some seminar about practicing managerial skills. “Thank you, Ms. Summers, for making the Doublemeat Palace part of your working experience.” She sat back down with a barely audible sigh and began rummaging through some papers on her desk.
__________
I can’t believe she actually said that. Buffy shook her head slightly as she exited the building. The sun was shining brightly in the streets. Then again, when did it not in good ole Sunnydale? But today it seemed a particularly happy omen of things to come. She thought for a brief moment. She had all the rest of the day ahead of her. She could go home and do some housekeeping…or she could go see Angel.
Yeah, like there was any choice. Buffy grinned and began trotting briskly towards the mansion on Crawford Street.
Angel straightened up and turned slowly. He could sense Buffy even before he heard her thoughts. Hello, lover.
Hello, studmuffin. She felt his dissatisfaction with that nickname; it sounded just a little too cutesy for him. Okay, how about teddy bear vamp?
He scowled. Even worse. I can’t have it getting around that somebody thinks of me as a kid’s toy. Couldn’t you come up with something more…manly?
Oooh, look who’s got the big ego. How about--tiger? Or stallion? Or King Kong? A psychic giggle followed that one and he sent back an image of himself butt naked atop the Empire State building, beating his chest while clutching a satin-draped Buffy in one hand.
Buffy pushed open the mansion door and flew at him, laughing. “Wow, like that isn’t a totally obvious male symbol right there. You with this great big phallic thingy between your legs.”
“Hey, it’s a better image than a teddy bear,” he retorted. She stopped and took a moment to appreciate the sight before her. He was wearing a short-sleeved T-shirt and plain jeans; evidently he’d been disinclined to dress up. Shit, she didn’t care. The man could have worn a burlap sack and still have looked sexy as hell.
She wound her legs around his waist as she kissed him; she didn’t want to wait again. He could smell her arousal, sharp and inviting. He growled and she growled back. He was startled at the sound but relished the sweet buzzing against his lips. He pulled back and tugged at her legs and Buffy reluctantly lowered them and moved away. “Buffy, I’ve got something to show you.”
“I’ve seen it, mister. But I wouldn’t mind another look.”
He snorted at the sexy images in her mind. “No, not that. I meant this. Close your eyes…no peeking. And stay out of my mind.”
“Fine.” Buffy closed her eyes and allowed him to lead her by the hand; she deliberately withheld from probing his thoughts as he led her towards another room. She blinked as she saw the changes he’d had made. The room looked like an almost exact duplicate of her room in the Summers house. But when she looked closer she realized that there were many differences. The furniture was placed in the same positions but there were no personal touches. There was no Mr. Gordo on the bed and no personal items laid out on the dressing table. There were no posters and the floor was bare.
“I know it’s not perfect but I hope you like it.” She turned back to him and saw the anxious look on his face. He’d done this? Nobody else had gone to such lengths to please her. Spike certainly hadn’t done it. She sent a wave of love and assurance at him.
“I-it’s wonderful, Angel. I don’t know what to say. How did you get all this done in one afternoon?”
Angel shuffled his feet and looked sheepish. “It wasn’t in one afternoon. I had it set up after I came back from hell. I-I kept hoping that somehow we could make it work and I wanted you to have someplace you’d feel comfortable.”
“That’s so sweet, Angel. You are my teddy bear vamp.” She fluttered her eyelashes at his piqued expression and cooed, “So can I try out my bed now?”
He scooped her up and placed her on the bedsheet. She sniffed appreciatively; he’d even washed them. In fact, everything in the room looked as if it had been scrubbed until it shone.
He lay down on the bed beside her and began slow, deep kisses that took her breath away. Mmmm. I’ll never get tired of that. You have the best mouth.
So do you, Buffy. He cupped her face and ran his tongue along her lower lip and then caught it gently between his teeth. He nibbled on the plump flesh as she sighed and ran her hands up and down his back.
It was beyond wonderful, the chance to be with her like this without worrying about his demonic half. Angelus was still there but firmly tied down where he couldn’t get loose and endanger innocent lives. But here with Buffy, he could let the beast out to play--at least a little bit.
Buffy was drifting on a cloud. She could see Angel’s intentions for her floating through his mind. Some of the wilder ones were so powerful she got wet just thinking about them.
Angel scented her increased arousal--and something else. A faint familiar odor that had been emanating from her grew subtly stronger and he knew what it was. She was menstruating. She’d only started this morning and he knew if he looked now there would be only the barest of trickles. But he didn’t care. He growled and placed his hand between her legs.
At the abrupt change in pressure, Buffy gasped and tilted her hips. The blood? It’s a turn-on?
He grinned wolfishly and a swift flash let her know all the times he’d restrained himself from attacking her on patrol when she’d had her period. Her first Watcher Merrick had indicated how her cramps could lead her to vampires. Apparently the reverse was true as well.
Well, if it’s a taste you want, drink away, lover. She grinned back and tugged at his shirt. Okay if I tear this?
Be my guest. She ripped at tee tee and it came apart with a satisfying tearing sound. Savage little thing, aren’t you?
Who’re you calling little? Buffy was still facing Angel on her side. She liked this position; it allowed her a lot of leeway. She leaned forward and nibbled at one of his nipples. He took in a swift unneeded breath as her little teeth bit at his nub. She lapped at it and followed his lead when Angel rolled over, dragging her weight on top of him.
She bobbed her head back and forth between the two nipples. God, he tasted great. He had a cinnamon flavor and a sort of smoky taste, almost like a ham.
A ham? An amused chuckle wafted into her mind. She smirked back as she tried to sort out the strange flavor of his skin.
A smoked ham with spices: cloves, cinnamon, and maybe a hint of--grease? Oh wait, that was his hair gel. And underneath it all, a thing indefinable, something that was uniquely Angel. Spike had tasted of ashes like the cigarettes he was constantly smoking. Being with Spike, she never forgot that she was grappling with a dead thing. Having crawled out of a grave, she often felt as if she was dead herself. But Angel felt alive. He made her feel alive. It didn’t matter that there wasn’t a heartbeat. She could almost imagine one.
“Thump, thump. Thump, thump.”
“It feels pretty amazing.” The memory of a heartbeat…it rose up around her and she sank deeper into his mind as he dredged up the recollection. She closed her eyes and let her imagination run wild. Now she could almost feel it pounding away beneath her breasts.
“Angel,” she breathed.
He closed his eyes as well and joined her in the past. It wasn’t real; none of it was real anymore. But for this brief space of time, it didn’t matter. Time folded in on itself and they were taken back to that day.
“And peanut butter, preferably crunchy.”
“Got it!” Angel mumbled around a crunchy mouthful as he carried the armload of food from the fridge back to the bed. He jumped in, the foodstuffs tumbling around his naked form.
“A perfect yum.” She giggled at the abundance of comestibles. “This is a dream. You’re human for about a minute and already there’s cookie dough fudge mint chip in the fridge.” She opened a package of strawberries.
He took a big scoop of the ice cream and closed his eyes, savoring the taste. “God, I love food.”
“Food is good,” she agreed, smiling.
He kissed her, relishing the taste of strawberries on her tongue. Mmmmm. This was great. Add a new flavor to his rapidly growing list of favorites. He asked her, “Why didn’t you ever tell me about chocolate and peanut butter?”
“Well, I figured if your vamp tastebuds couldn’t really savor it, then it would only hurt you to know. By the way, I’m over the whole needing-to-be-mature thing. That time you just spent in the kitchen…that was enough time apart.”
“Too much.” She leaned in for a deep kiss that Angel returned. Unnoticed, the spoon he’d dipped into the ice cream began dripping onto his bare chest and he jumped from the chilly sensation. “Okay. Mortal coordination leaves something to be desired,” as he grimaced at the droplets.
She stopped him from moving. “Wrong. It’s just right.” She bent over, lapping up the cold treat from his warm chest and he laughed out loud, giddy with the sensation. Having fun in bed: that was something he’d never thought he could have with any mortal woman, especially Buffy. He clasped her in his arms as she rolled on top of him.
Their lips met in a languid kiss and he could taste the ice cream, a strange chill on her otherwise warm lips. He pushed his tongue in farther as he chased that flavor and she parted her lips, allowing him entry. He belatedly remembered to shove the edibles onto the floor and let her weight come to rest on his erection.
They both gasped and then stayed still for a moment to enjoy the moment. Without his vampiric senses, he couldn’t smell her arousal or hear her heartbeat or the rush of the blood in her veins. But he knew the warmth of her flesh against his own and the hammering of his own heart as she began to rock over his erection.
[Protection. We need…protection. We should get that, condoms and…oh shit.] Cautious thoughts and concerns of safety flew right out of his mind as she changed the rocking to a slow swivel. He brushed his hands over her thighs, up her ass to grasp her tiny waist. She increased her pace until he thought he’d explode from the friction.
“Buffy, shit, you’re killing me,” he gasped.
“Uh uh. No dying yet.” She changed her movements again to an undulation of her hips as her back bowed and the tips of her breasts came down and swept up his body from his stomach to his chest. He could feel twin trails of heat left in their wake as she completed the movement and reversed it.
Abruptly, he flipped her onto her side so that they lay facing each other in the bed. He wanted to taste what was touching him. He kissed her lovingly around the plump flesh of her right breast while she grabbed at his arms and tried to maneuver the nipple into his mouth.
“That’s…oh please, Angel,” she panted hard in yearning as his tongue came out, brushing the sensitive skin everywhere except the taut peak aching for the attention. He knew he was driving her crazy but he wanted to delay the moment of completion. With every passing second, her arousal was increasing; it would be all the greater when she finally came. He caressed her belly with his long fingers and it quivered under his touch. He sank one knuckle into her bellybutton and heard her gasp again. “Angel!”
He paused but it wasn’t pain that prompted the call. He was close to her center but not close enough. She couldn’t bear the waiting any longer and grabbed his lower hand, dragging it downward. He smirked; she was much stronger than he was now but he could still put up a struggle if he wanted to.
He didn’t want to.
Angel tangled his fingers leisurely in her pubic hairs and brushed his thumb over the cushiony button nestled in her folds. She arched up against him and he could feel a trembling working its way through her body. She threw one lithe leg over his upper one in an attempt to drag him closer.
Finally he grasped her nipple with his lips, suckling it hard until it welled up, bruised, within his mouth. The teasing touches around her lower lips were prolonged and subtle. He touched the labia--nice and moist. He introduced his finger into her cunt for brief moments, drawing it out before she could get more than a taste of what he planned.
She was panting loudly, bucking her hips as she tried to press herself onto his hand. He grabbed both breasts together as he attempted to lick the two nipples at once. Her breasts were small so the act was easily accomplished.
The panting had advanced to a high keening as he began pumping two fingers into her in the same rhythm as his licking tongue. “No! I want you in me!”
Angel lifted his head from her breasts to whisper, “I am in you.”
She shook her head and nearly wept. “Not what I--”
“I know,” he answered and bent to his task again. She was so close and her juices were oozing all over his hand as he increased his pace. His thumb brushed around her clit in a final pass and he bit down on one nipple.
Her pussy clamped around his hand in a vise while her body went rigid. Her back bent and the rippling passed through her as she came in a wordless wail. She fell onto her back and he lifted his head, marveling at the flush all over her chest and belly and the delicate sheen of sweat that covered her.
Buffy lay there bonelessly as she tried blinking away the stars in her vision. She only gradually became aware of his tongue tracing a path down her collarbone as he licked away the salty droplets coursing down her skin.
He dragged his tongue across his mark on her skin and felt her quiver. Before she could seize on the excitement that always followed any contact in that special place, he continued on his downward path. Swift licks to her nipples were followed by wet tracings along her ribs and over her stomach. A dip into that sensitive navel--he was beginning to enjoy the way her breath caught and her tummy leapt whenever she was touched there--and then his chin was scraped by the coarse lower hairs.
“Mghgh.” Huh, never heard a woman make THAT noise before. The strangled gargle was repeated again as the adept tongue flicked at her clit once more. She tasted sweet and salty at once, a flavor he was determined to explore. His tongue repeated the same motions his hand had made, flexing inside her passage with limberness his stiffer fingers couldn’t duplicate.
“Aaaaangggel…oh god…more…tongue…fuck me…ooh.” Angel made his tongue rigid and thrust into her waiting folds. He parted the outer lips with his fingers and took a deeper taste, returning to suck at the tiny button above.
Buffy’s head tossed on the pillows as her hands clawed at the sheets. Her hips were grinding against his face; the fleeting thought came to him that he might have trouble breathing now that he actually had to. The moist folds pulsed against his tongue and the minute tenseness in her body warned him of the upcoming orgasm.
The flood came across his tongue as her scream tore the air. Buffy’s back bent and he held onto her thrashing buttocks with both hands. Before she could recover completely, he crawled over her prone form and sank into her waiting cunt.
She was wide open, her previous orgasms leaving her gloriously slick, and he slid into her in one smooth motion. He settled between her thighs and they paused for a moment as she enjoyed the warm-blooded male in her embrace.
Thump, thump, thump, thump. There was his heart throbbing against her own. God, would she ever get used to that sound? He started sliding in and out, calling her name with every push. She moaned and raised her hips to meet him.
She’d thought he would speed up but the pace he set was unhurried. He kissed her, lingering on her mouth and cupped her breasts or her buttock, drawing her up towards him. All the while, he continued that languid rhythm as if determined to remain joined to her. She came again and again, crying out softly into his shoulder.
Damn. They’d made love throughout the afternoon and she’d cum no less than seven times. She’d lost track of his orgasms; they had blended so seamlessly with hers. Buffy shuddered and came back to the present and the vampire in bed with her.
Sometime during the reminiscing, Angel had shifted down between her legs and was busily licking cum and blood from her cunt. She gasped and her hips snapped up at one particularly swift sweep of his tongue on her clit. He probed her inner cavern almost ruthlessly in quest of the thick clotted blood that lay there. Buffy squealed at how deeply that tongue seemed to go. She grabbed Angel’s head and held him against her swollen labia.
“Gaaah! Angel!” He hummed and continued lapping her as she quivered in another blinding orgasm into his mouth. She gulped for breath as he slid up beside her.
They lay in each other’s embrace as he sniffed at her hair and rubbed his chin in the glossy strands. It was like being in a warm nest, one he never wanted to leave. After a moment, a stray thought occurred to him. “Which do you think is better? Vamp Angel or human Angel?” His voice sounded teasing but she could hear the curiosity behind the question.
She tightened her arms around him. She didn’t even take time to consider her answer. “They’re both you, Angel. And I love all of you. It’s silly to make comparisons. You know I’ve fantasized about your becoming human. I think I told you that before,” wrinkling her nose at him. “But if there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that life’s too short for you to wait for things to get better. You can’t keep putting things on hold. I have you here and now and that makes me happy. Whether you become human doesn’t matter. It’s a beautiful dream and one precious day we had. I’ll settle for that.”
She snuggled against his chest and then her head shot up. “Hey! What does ‘Shanshu’ mean?”
Oops.
__________
Spike strode through the night with discontent and anger peeling off him in waves. Demons who encountered him were either quickly dispatched or had the sense to go scurrying in the other direction. Normally, he would have chased after them but tonight he was on a mission.
He’d been to the Slayer’s house but no one was home. The house was dark and empty and attempts to sneak in found him bouncing off an invisible barrier. One of the witches must have set it up, probably Tara. Where was Buffy? And Dawn? Where was everybody?
He swung around to Janice’s house and, sure enough, he could see the Little Bit through one of the windows. She and her girlfriend were watching the telly while her schoolbooks were scattered around and laughing their heads off at the antics on the screen. How the girl ever expected to do homework with that kind of distraction was beyond him. Briefly he thought of pounding the door and demanding to know where Buffy was but after that scene at the house a few days ago he doubted Dawn would be forthcoming with the information.
Then he decided to take a little side trip to the Magic Box. Anya looked up as he entered the store. “Spike! What do you want? I’m just about to close up.”
Spike was in no mood for small talk; he just got straight to the point. “The Slayer. Have you seen her?”
“God, Spike. Are you still after her? She’s really not interested any more and this obsession you have with her is getting sad and old. Why don’t you go back to South America and see if you can find Drusilla?”
Spike glowered at her. “Fine talk coming from somebody who’s been left at the altar. I’m beginning to see why the whelp ditched you.”
“That’s not what you said--” Too late Anya remembered that Spike would have no recollection of that particular speech. His memory of that night and his subsequent death by sunlight would have been completely wiped from his memory.
“Not what I said when? What are you talking about?” Spike detected a sudden nervousness in Anya as well as a hint of fear. What did she have to be afraid of? Did she know something about his mysterious amnesia?
“Nothing. I haven’t seen Buffy in some time. I’ve been too busy having orgasms with Xander.” She couldn’t resist rubbing his face in that. She wasn’t going to let him score off her about her abandonment at the altar. Hopefully, it would steer him away from asking about her little slip-up.
Apparently it worked. “Since when? I thought the pup had kicked you to the curb along with any hopes of matrimony. It’s not like he’s got the women beating down his door now, innit?”
“Xander and I have gotten together again. Nobody let you know because, well, nobody cared enough about you to fill you in. Now if you’ll excuse me, Spike, it’s quitting time.” She shut the register with a decisive snap and came out from nd tnd the counter with an aerosol spray bottle aimed rather pointedly in his direction.
Spike eyed it warily. “What’s that for?”
Anya smiled at him with a sweet grin that Xander had learned to know meant trouble. “Pest spray.” With that she gave him a spritz.
The bleached blonde vampire blinked and then yelped in pain as the droplets landed on his skin. Shit, it was holy water! “Soddin’ hell, woman! What’d you do that for?”
“Because I’m closing up and you won’t leave! Get lost, Spike! Go play kitty poker with your friends or hustle somebody at pool for money. Just get out and leave honest workers to their well-earned rest.”
Spike stood his ground for a moment; he was damned if he was going to run from some human female. But Anya raised the spray menacingly and he backed away out the door. She lowered the anti-theft gate and locked up and sauntered off without so much as a backward glance.
The vampire considered following her for a moment but if what she said was true, she was surely heading for Droopy’s place and he didn’t see what new information he could learn there. She’d probably do nothing but prattle on about the orgasms Xander was giving her ad nauseam anyway.
And when did she get back together with Xander anyway? Just how long had he been passed out? Where the hell was Buffy?
__________
In the end, Buffy and Angel didn’t spend all day in bed. Nearly. Almost. Okay, five, six hours tops. Angel had taken a break to talk to Cordelia when the seer had called demanding to know when he was coming back to L.A.
She’d been forced to admit that there had been no visions or anything needing his help. When he’d told her about Buffy’s recovery and the fact that she would be helping the A.I. group, the seer had been less than pleased.
Cordelia had snidely asked whether he had forgotten about Connor’s abduction or Wesley’s part in the business. Angel had given her a few short answers that, no, he hadn’t forgotten and she could cut the attitude about Buffy. His beloved was back in his life and Cordelia could help or she could walk. She had rapped out that she was the vision girl; he couldn’t get rid of her. To which Angel had countered that they could always put Lorne on the payroll and use his unique abilities instead.
That had appeared to settle things. Cordelia was not happy that Hurricane Buffy would be re-entering their lives but she had backed down in the face of Angel’s ultimatum. She would find a way to work with that mousy blonde if it killed her. Anyway, Angel had indicated that Buffy would still be tied mostly to the Hellmouth. She would come to L.A. only when and if visions indicated they needed her skills…and maybe the occasional weekend. With that, Cordelia had to be satisfied.
__________
After that, they had made love a few more times. It was as if they had been literally starved for each other and now couldn’t get enough of what they’d been missing. They explored the bond as well, finding that they could project their thoughts from about three blocks away; they would have to ask Tara about whether it would stretch any farther as time went by.
Angel had helpfully packed some weapons in the trunk of his car so they hadn’t needed to swing by her place. With just him and a bag of weapons, she felt there was nothing she couldn’t handle. She couldn’t remember the last time she actually felt excited about patrolling.
This is so great, Angel! Maybe we can talk all the way between L.A. to Sunnydale. Think of what we’d save in phone bills. Buffy enthused as they patrolled one of the outer cemeteries.
Angel snorted at that practical comment. Actually, I was thinking how it would make it easy for us to find each other in case of an emergency or one of Cordy’s visions…
Or warn each other about danger. Vamps at eight o’clock!
I see him!
Buffy dropped her bag, swiveled and caught the nearest vamp with one stretched-out leg and followed it up by a swift staking. The other five faltered when they realized she wasn’t easy prey and that hesitation was their undoing.
Angel growled and whipped out two stakes. The vampire attacking him managed a hard punch to Angel’s head. The souled vamp shook it off and ducked under the clumsy roundhouse swing that came after it.
The other four had been reduced to two and the pair faltered and began retreating as Slayer and Master Vampire advanced on them. One of them gulped audibly and rested his yellow eyes on Angel’s menacing form. “Hey, dude! What do you think you’re doing? Aren’t you a vampire?”
“Oh, you’re one of the bright ones, aren’t ya?” Buffy quipped. “I’m betting you were the top minion in your class.” The vampire snarled and lunged at her only to be dispatched in a flurry of blows and kicks he never saw coming.
The remaining bloodsucker squealed and turned to run. Angel flung his stake at it and watched it dissolve into dust. Buffy watched him critically and then said, “You know that stake’s gone now, don’t you?”
“Got some more.” He whipped open his long duster and she saw them: four lines of stakes neatly set up in small holders in the lining.
“Oh, so that’s why you wear that! I knew there had to be a practical reason for it,” Buffy laughingly replied.
“Why did you think I wore it?”
She shrugged as she continued patrolling. “I don’t know. Vampires all seem to have this thing about leather. I thought it was just an evil villainy type look they went in for. Spike certainly seems to wear it to death. At least your coat fits.”
“That’s because I made sure mine fit when I got it,” came the dry reply.
“And I’m betting you paid for it and didn’t steal it off somebody’s rapidly cooling corpse either,” Buffy muttered. The whole affair with Spike was beginning to assume an air of unreality. How could she have done that? How could she have had demeaning, soul-dirtying sex with somebody who’d bragged about killing two Slayers and equated murdering such women with screwing them? Had she been out of her mind?
She shuddered and Angel sensed her change in mood even before he saw her thought. He grabbed her arm and swung her around to face him. “Buffy, don’t do this to yourself.”
“Why not? It was…it was beyond stupid what I did with him, Angel. I fucked him and I enjoyed it. I let him treat me like shit and kept coming back for more. He betrayed me and my friends again and again but because he did a few good things courtesy of a government chip in his head, I let him worm his way into me and then he shows just how evil he can be. And I didn’t stake him when I had the chance, even after he nearly unleashed a horde of demon beasties on Sunnydale.”
“Demon beasties?” Okay, he hadn’t heard that story.
She really didn’t want to let him know the details of that one. But since it had led to her breakup with the dyed doofus, she thought it might be good to sketch in the background story. “It started when Riley came to town…”
Angel stayed quiet throughout the entire narration. So Spike had once again been up to his old tricks. But holding them for a friend? That excuse was really weak; Spike must have been off his game to resort to that lie. Buffy should have staked him for that stunt.
“You see! I’m weak and stupid. The old Buffy would have killed him. Why don’t I?”
“You might still get the chance. He’s probably up by now and looking for you. What will you do when you see him?”
Instantly Buffy’s thoughts sank into confusion. Angel could sense the deep conflict that raged within her. Spike had hurt her. Spike had helped her. He had stayed to help her friends even when she was dead, when she wasn’t around to be impressed by her efforts. He hadn’t been part of the wacky magic that pulled her out of heaven, so he’d fought the good fight with no promise of reward from her.
Yet he was still a soulless demon. His behavior with Buffy more than proved it. His so-called love was dark and twisted without an ounce of selflessness in it. Spike was also a danger; there was no doubt about that. Even with his chip he still managed to find a way to endanger the entire populace of Sunnydale. If Angel had known about that, he wouldn’t have been so quick to have Anya revert to being a human. Compared to destroying a whole town, how much damage could she have done?
Angel was drawn out of his musings in time to see Buffy gaping at him. “Anya was a demon again? And you made a wish in front of her? Angel, that was crazy! How could you do something like that without telling me?”
He raised his eyebrows at her and couldn’t resist a sharp retort. “Committing an evil deed with a demon? Lot of that going around lately.” He instantly regretted his words when he saw her flinch. “Buffy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I was just…”
“No, no, Angel. You’re right. It’s just what I was saying a moment ago. Sleeping with Spike was dumb. At least you tried to get rid of him. It’s more than I did.” She sighed. “Too bad she’s human now. I guess that means that Spike’s once more on the prowl.”
“Look on the bright side. We had an entire day free from his presence.”
She grinned at him. “True. And since his crypt is all the way on the other side of town, I doubt we’ll be running into him tonight. Do you want to split up and meet back at the mansion? Or we could go to my house. Dawn’s staying with a friend.”
The sly note in her voice and the naughty images that accompanied it caused Angel to become instantly erect. “Miss Summers, you’re trying to seduce me. Aren’t you?”
The film reference was evidently lost on her but the blatant come-on was not. She grabbed his shoulders and kissed him hard. At that exact moment, a little old lady came toddling out from behind a large stone crypt and stopped in shock. “Oh my goodness gracious!”
The two broke apart with the embarrassment of teenagers caught making out. Oh great. Where did she spring from? Buffy thought with annoyance.
Angel became preternaturally still as he looked at the woman. At first glance, she appeared to be a harmless lady in a beige short-length coat with a Peter Pan collar. She was clutching a small purse in white-gloved hands and proceeded to scold the two of them.
“Shame on you! What are young people coming to these days? Making whoopee in a graveyard, you ought to be asha--”
Buffy wasn’t impressed. “Save it.” She pulled out a sword from her bag and walked closer to the woman. Her spidey sense had been going off ever since the old lady showed up. Something wasn’t right.
The woman backed up towards the crypt, her eyes widening in fear. “What are you doing? Are you crazy? Help! Somebody help me!”
The blonde woman confronting her paused a moment. Would a demon be screaming for help? But what sensible old lady would be in a graveyard at this time of night?
None, that’s who. It’s a shapeshifter, Buffy. Angel had encountered many shapeshifters in his life. They often assumed human forms in order to blend seamlessly into human society. Many of them were harmless and simply wanted to live peaceably without harassment. But this one had the scent of freshly spilled human blood on its person. As the two edged nearer in a flanking position, the demon abruptly revealed itself.
The image of an old granny wavered and disappeared as the creature grew to almost 11 feet tall. It had a craggy skin that was orange-yellow in color and four large burly arms--each one of which was holding a large wicked-looking sword.
Scimitar. When they’re curved like that along one edge, they’re called…
Honey, you’re really old and very smart. I get that. But could we save the history lesson for later? Buffy grabbed a two-edged sword out of her bag and tossed one to Angel.
Okay, here’s some really useful advice. Buffy, you have to get it in the lower torso. It has three hearts down there and we have to stab or destroy all three of them.
Got it. Buffy concentrated her moves on that part of the creature’s body and the fight was on. In spite of its big size, the creature was amazingly agile and the two found they had a real fight on their hands.
The creature was baffled. The girl was small but looked tasty. The man was a vampire; its senses had detected that much and quickly dismissed him. No good for eating. Perhaps he had interrupted the bloodsucker before it could make a meal of the girl. If he had realized the vampire’s undead status, it would have waited until it finished drinking its victim and then eaten the remains. Coming upon them so suddenly had forced the bloodrat to break off its attack.
But why was it fighting side by side with the girl? For that matter, why was the girl fighting--with swords, no less? What the fuck was going on? The creature retreated briefly after one of its scimitars had been knocked from his hand. He held up the other three. “Whoa! Time out here, buddy!”
“What’s the matter? Want a breather because you’re losing?”
The monster scowled at Buffy’s taunt and looked at Angel. “There’s no reason for us to fight. I got no beef with vampires. You want to drink the girl, be my guest. Just let me have the leftovers, okay?”
Angel and Buffy looked at each other and burst out laughing. That wasn’t the reaction the creature had been expecting. “What’s so funny? She not your type?”
Angel smirked. “God, that is such a funny joke--the first 10,000 times I heard it. She’s not exactly a type, buddy. She’s the Slayer.”
The beast’s body color paled to a sickening cream orange tone. “T-the S-Slayer?” His eyes darted between them and then the surrounding grounds as it considered making its escape. “Shit. I didn’t know.” Then something appeared to come to its attention. “Hey, if she’s the Slayer, why’re you fighting with her? Why was she kissing you?”
Buffy suddenly looked bored. “You know, that’s a long and complex story and I really don’t want to get into it with you. So where were we? Oh yeah. Kicking your ass!” She lunged forward with her sword and stabbed at the monster’s torso.
In spite of its bafflement, the creature was prepared for her attack. Two blades came up to block her assault while the third busied itself keeping Angel at bay.
Angel feinted and managed to lop off the swinging arm. The monster bellowed with the pain, the loud sound causing Buffy to wince reflexively. She barely avoided the two blades windmilling towards her head and sank her sword into the demon’s lower torso.
The creature staggered but didn’t fall. As Angel followed with another stab in the appropriate place, the monster realized that it was going to lose the battle and, most likely, its life. He backhanded Buffy hard, sending her flying through the air. The resulting flare in his mind caught Angel completely by surprise. Buffy!
I’m okay, love. Watch out! Angel shook off the psychic pain but not quickly enough. The two scimitars stabbed him viciously, one in his heart and the other in his abdomen. In spite of the agony, Angel managed to skewer the beast in the last heart he could hear pumping in its stomach. The monster crashed to the ground with a gurgling moan and lay still after a final dying shudder.
Buffy ran up to him, Angel’s distress roaring through her mind. She could barely see straight because of it; how bad was it for him? “Angel?”
“Buffy.” The word was only a whisper on his lips. He rested his weight on the sword clutched in his hand. The other hand was pressed to his heart; she could see the blood pouring out of it onto the ground.
“It’s going to be okay. Are there bandages in the bag?”
No. Didn’t… should have packed…there wasn’t time… The thought wavered in and out of coherency and, as if in slow motion, she watched him crumple to the ground.
She half-carried, half-walked Angel to his car. She was stronger than he and could have hefted him easily but she was afraid of tearing open his wounds even further. So she supported his weight as best she could as he staggered along beside her. She slid him into the passenger side of the car and nearly ripped the driver side door off its hinges in her haste to get the door open.
“Angel? Angel! Where are the keys? You have to move your arms so I can find them.” She tugged at his coat but he was slumping in the seat and the slickness of the blood-coated leather was making it difficult for her to find the object of her search.
In a dreamily sluggish movement, he shifted back his arms and she pawed around the inside of his coat. Choking back a cry of triumph, she yanked out the keys and drove back to his mansion at breakneck speed.
__________
She had bandages and other medical supplies at home. But he would heal without them. The healing process, however, would be much more prolonged without blood and that she didn’t have since they’d barred Spike from their doorstep. Dawn had raided the fridge and thrown out all the remaining blood bags before learning that Angel was going to be a permanent fixture in their lives and Buffy hadn’t had the chance to replace them. But there was blood at the mansion. It was closer at any rate.
The pain of Angel’s wounds was lessening somewhat as Buffy hustled him through the door. It was mainly the blood loss that made it difficult for him to stay conscious; he could have handled the pain. Buffy’s anxiety, however, was beating at his mind like a storm. He latched onto that tenaciously. Both her mind and her touch helped to anchor him.
Buffy hated to place him on the brand new bedsheets but there was no help for it. She was damned if she’d have him on the floor. He was paler than usual as he clenched both hands over the wounds in his chest and torso. “Angel, I’m going to take your coat and shirt off, okay?” She received a silent assent in her mind.
She made him lean up to remove the coat but the shirt was beyond saving. She ripped it off and threw the shreds onto the floor. Dammit, lover. Are you going to keep ripping my clothes like that?
Humor. That was a good sign. It meant the pain wasn’t so bad--or he was being macho and trying to hide how awful it was. He grimaced at that second thought and didn’t bother denying it.
She hesitated as she looked at him. He was still wearing his pants and shoes. She didn’t really need to remove them to feed him but the blood had trailed down his front to soak the top of his pants. If they dried on him, they would be all the harder to remove in the morning.
Go on. Take ‘em off. Just try not to rip these. Right. She could do this. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen him naked before. In a brisk fashion, she pulled off the footwear and gently unzipped his jeans. She tossed them aside as well and ran to the fridge to get the blood bags.
Thank goodness he got the fridge up and running. She brought the cold blood out of the fridge and decided to think about the injuries she was trying to minister to instead. Angel was lying very much as she’d left him, blood oozing out of his motionless body onto the sheets. He was so still that she felt a momentary fear and gently probed his mind. Angel?
Here, love. His mind was astonishingly calm considering the pain he must still be feeling and a slight brushing of his thoughts told her why. He was meditating, a habit he’d picked up in Asia on his long directionless wanderings after he’d regained his soul. Giles had tried to teach her that but she’d been too impatient to learn.
Silently she marveled at the depth of Angel’s mind as he effortlessly elevated himself above his physical being. He had existed for so long and seen and learned so much. She was a swoony little schoolgirl by comparison.
Never, Buffy. You’re not a child anymore. You’re a wonderful, gorgeous human…being. Never…forget that. It was too much of an effort for him to concentrate on her and his meditation at the same time and she let her mind pull away from his.
She sank down beside him holding the blood she’d poured into a cup. “Angel, you have to sit up to drink. Just hold still; let me do the work.” She pulled his up broad frame, grasping him around the shoulders. He wanted to help but she wouldn’t let him.
She raised the cup to his lips and made sure he drank every drop. When that bag was finished, she ripped open the others into the cup and repeated the process. All too soon, the small supply was finished.
She glanced down at his torso even as her mind cringed away from the torn flesh marring the perfection of his body. Yes, the wounds were closing albeit more slowly than she would have liked. She didn’t like this; he was too vulnerable this way. Demons and other vampires could get to him in the mansion. For the first time, she wished she had brought him to her house.
Is there anything else I can do? A quicksilver flash ran through his mind and her eyes narrowed. He was trying to hide something from her; she could tell. Angel, what is it?
Nothing. Buffy, this is enough.
But she reached out and grasped at the fleeting phantom. Slayer blood? That’ll help?
Don’t even think about it. Angel was adamant. He knew the rumors about the healing powers of her blood. There was more to it than the aphrodisiac qualities Spike had once crowed about to Drusilla. Because Slayers mended so quickly after injuries that would kill regular human beings, the ability of their blood to heal wounded vampires had become legendary among his kind.
But that’s all they were: stories and myths. That her blood had healed him the last time had been a specific cure for a very specific poison. He didn’t want her getting the idea in her head that the fluid in her veins was some magical cure-all. Otherwise she would be using herself all the time to help him.
Let me be the judge of that. He could sense her intention even before she moved. He tried to squirm out of her grip but she tightened her hold and pushed him back onto the sheets.
Angel was stronger from the blood but still far weaker than she was. With one hand she held him down on the mattress while she peeled off her top.
His eyes widened as her form was revealed. Buffy? Shit, wha--no, don’t do it.
She was wearing a small bra with tiny yellow flowers printed all over it. She didn’t like the way her breasts swung up and down without it; they tended to throw her off balance when she was fighting. But now she wished she’d dispensed with it. She reached around and unfastened the front snap.
He drew in a non-existent breath as the sweet breasts he’d been caressing only hours earlier sprang into view. She tossed the bra onto the floor beside his discarded clothing. Angel moaned as she pressed her warm body against his. “Angel. Please. This isn’t a sick obsession with me. You need to get better and quickly, too. Believe me, if we were at home and had blood, I’d feed you the plasma until you got a blood belly. Please. Drink me.”
God, no, Buffy. I’ve always been weak; don’t tempt me like this.
She sighed. Tempting him was exactly what she wanted to do. Remembering his earlier reaction, she stood up from his body and quickly stripped down to nothing.
He had his head turned towards the wall away from her. But in a sudden movement he got up and lunged towards the door. She jumped him before he got two feet and he groaned as he fell onto his tender stomach. “Dammit, Angel! You’re still too weak. What were you gonna do? Charge into the night naked? Now get back onto the bed!”
She pushed off the bloody sheets before she set him to rest this time and lay down beside his prone body. He was still trying to resist her but his control faltered as she reached between her legs. Remembering his reaction from before, she brought up fingers red with menstrual residue and rubbed it on her scar.
His ridges instantly formed at the smell and he unconsciously leaned closer before he shrank away from her. “Buffy, please…”
She didn’t know if he was begging her to stop or continue and right now she didn’t care. She grasped his head and brought it down towards her neck.
Angel paused there for endless moments before she felt his cool tongue come out and lick at the drying blood. She could feel his erection prodding her thigh as he began the dreamy lapping. His hands were caressing her breasts once more and she moaned at the manipulation from his cool fingers. “Angel? You don’t need to…this isn’t for me.”
He pressed a swift kiss to her lips. “I know, love. I don’t want this to hurt.” Before she could protest, he returned to nibbling at her throat. Buffy couldn’t restrain herself from gasping and rubbing her body against him.
His mind had withdrawn to some distant place, as if what he was doing was instinctual. Was this how he had taken his victims? Seducing them into bed and biting them in the throes of ecstasy? Buffy wasn’t sure she wanted to know and she was finding it difficult to think anyway as he turned her over and began suckling her breasts. He was lifting her up and brushing his hands down her back, touching her on every spot on her body she liked to be touched and leaving trails of heat everywhere. His erection was jabbing her but he acted like he didn’t even notice it.
She was panting and her hips bucking hard by the time he descended to her rounded belly. He was pressing tender kisses all around the soft mound and she thought she would pass out from the intensity of feeling radiating from her center. She wound her hands in the short strands of his hair and pushed it with a complete lack of subtlety in the direction of that glorious sensation.
Angel rested his nose in the nest of her pubic hairs for a moment. The thought came to him that it would be nice to kiss and lick the bare flesh under it. Well, I can always shave for you if you’d like. The very thought caused him to harden further.
Finally he pressed himself between those firm thighs of hers. He didn’t bother with tenderness this time. Her blood smell was so much stronger than it had been this morning and the urge to taste her was overwhelming. Angel dove into her, nuzzling and sweeping his tongue everywhere, as he tried to sate his hunger. He couldn’t get enough purchase this way so he sat back on his heels and raised her thighs into the air.
Buffy gasped at this new position. Her head was pressed helplessly into the mattress while her legs were clamped around his head. Every time he thrust his tongue inside, her body shuddered and her hips jerked hard. But she couldn’t twist away from his hands and he wouldn’t let her go. She cried out again while his tongue stroked every hidden crevice.
Angel’s head was swimming with the bombardment of stimuli. Every time Buffy came, a gush of blood would spill out with her juices, bathing his mouth and filling his nose. Her heartbeat was pounding in rhythm with the pulsing folds of flesh around his tongue; he couldn’t get enough of this. But her cunt simply didn’t have enough to soothe him and his bloodlust was growing.
He was also frustrated as hell since his erection hadn’t been taken care of. Hearing his thought, Buffy wriggled her legs. “Angel, stop. Fuck me. I want you. Please, you have to.”
He shook his head and sucked hard on her clit in response. She screamed, cumming again. There was little blood this time and she knew it as soon as he did. With a sharp wrench, she pulled her legs out of his arms and sat up in front of him. She sank onto his throbbing erection and a sigh rose from both of them.
It was a leisurely pace at first. Buffy was hyper aware of Angel’s condition. Glancing down she saw the wounds were even closer to being healed than they had been earlier. But the flesh was still raw and pink; she could see blood seeping out slightly. Shutting her eyes against the sight, she bared her throat again. “Angel, drink.”
__________
She wasn’t at home. She wasn’t at the Bronze. He’d trolled the cemeteries along her usual route. He’d ducked back to his crypt just in case she’d had a change of heart and come to visit. He’d even beat up a few demons. No Slayer. There was only one last place he could think of where she might be.
If Angel had been in Buffy’s life for any length of time, she might have gone to the mansion. He kept telling himself that couldn’t have happened. The poof’s soul still had that little happiness clause attached, didn’t it? He couldn’t be with Buffy, could he? Maybe she had taken off to L.A. with him. But no, she wouldn’t have left Dawnie behind.
He crept up to the mansion and tried the door. No locks. Bloody careless of the poof but he probably thought no demon would dare strike at Angelus. Well, most demons wouldn’t. But most demons weren’t William the Bloody.
He heard them before he saw them. He knew all too well the noises Buffy made during sex and there was no mistaking these for anything else.
Then he saw her--face up on the bed, her legs spread while that massive frame he’d seen naked more times than he cared to remember was thrusting between her supple thighs. By the odor, they’d been at this for some time, hours at least, and showed no signs of stopping. Her screams were echoing off the walls as she locked her legs around her lover and ground her hips against his body. “AAAANNNNGGELLLL! God! More, don’t stop! Harder! HARDER!”
Blood, Spike could smell it. It seemed to be coming mostly from the clothes that lay on the floor. His eyes narrowed. That was his grandsire’s scent all over those torn rags. He could also smell it faintly coming from the bloodsucker in the bed. What the fuck…had there been a fight? Then why were they shagging? And why was Buffy calling the poofster’s name like she’d found a new religion?
The brunette vampire sat back on his heels, dragging Buffy’s body up with him. Spike’s nostrils flared as her arousal drifted towards him again. Now he could smell another blood odor--Buffy’s. He was drinking from her. The Slayer’s head was flung back, her face flushed, mouth wide open as another scream was ripped from her very being. The bastard was using her as a blood chalice and the bitch was letting him. She was getting off on it.
He saw the other demon pull his head from Buffy’s neck and give her a blood-smeared kiss on the lips. He couldn’t tell what she was doing with her mouth from behind but it was clear the taste of her own plasma didn’t upset the girl. He pinched a nipple hard and Buffy’s legs clenched around his back. Spike’s nose picked up his grandsire’s release as his cock pumped hard into the Slayer’s willing cunt.
They fell back upon the bed but in mere seconds, he was moving into her again as he pressed his head once more into the crook of her neck. Buffy wound her fingers in his hair, holding him close, as another orgasmic wail mingled with his grunts.
“Angel! IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou. Ahhh!” He couldn’t believe it. She’d never said that to him, not once in all the times she’d stormed into his crypt and thrown herself at him. She’d never let him drink from her either. There had been scrapes and bruises from their sessions together but she never lost her head enough even during sex to allow him a single bite.
Buffy had no concept of how much time had passed. Once Angel had bitten her again, the orgasms tumbled endlessly over her, pushing her and her vampire lover over the brink again and again. She couldn’t even tell if he was still biting her. They had changed positions so often when the bite couldn’t have been possible.
This was no longer about healing or even lust. The Slayer and her vampire were caught in a cycle of ecstasy and she didn’t care when he released her from it. Their lovemaking had passed from a tentative coupling to frantic fucking as his shaft slammed into her pussy. His cool cock had a kind of heat that she couldn’t get enough of. He reached down and added a relentless finger to the fleshy button over her moist folds and stroked it until she squealed.
She opened her eyes to lick and nibble at his ear while he drank from her. His thoughts were in a jumbled mess as his passions warred between draining her and denying his need. And beneath all that, the fire that was Angelus clamoring for more of her body, her blood. Sweet…delicious…mine…hot…hot cunt…hot thighs…Slayer blood…Buffy heat…my mate…MINE!
Yes, Angel. I’m yours…you’re…Spike?
He was too caught up in what he was doing to register that for the moment. He could feel strength and power returning to him with each sip of her precious blood. Now he understood what Spike had been babbling about all those years ago.
But the stray thought of his grandchilde at last seeped into his consciousness. She was thinking about Spike? How dare she? He lifted his head, his mouth smeared with her blood, and snarled in anger.
No! Spike! He’s here!
Spike heard the furious growling and saw the fear on Buffy’s face and completely misunderstood. This had to be Angelus with Buffy; he had no idea what her sex with Angel had been like but he had witnessed the violence of Angelus’s fucks in the past and this was what he was seeing now. His grandsire’s evil alter ego had returned and was attacking his Buffy. Snatching a stake from his coat, he charged with vampiric speed towards the couple on the bed.
Buffy kicked Angel off just as Spike came swooping down upon them. The blow with the stake just missed her lover as Spike thrust it hard into the bed where he had lain. “Get out of here, Buffy! I’ll deal with this ponce!”

Angel growled at him, completely uncaring that he was stark naked in front of his grandchilde. “Coming to the rescue, Spike? Forget it; the role of the champion’s been filled and you ain’t it.”
“You’re not getting your teeth into my Slayer, Angelus,” Spike snarled even though he knew it was too late. He’d seen Buffy’s neck torn open anew in the same spot where Angel had once marked her and, underneath his rage, his demon was howling in betrayal. How could she let Angelus do that to her when she’d never graced him with the same gift?
Angel danced out of reach. He was full of Slayer blood and that made him more powerful than ever. But Spike was running on a kind of berserker rage, jealousy and hatred of his grandsire fueling him. He closed with Angel and they began grappling and rolling on the floor.
“She’s mine, Angelus. Just ask her. She’s been sleeping with me all the time you’ve been playing hero in L.A,” Spike taunted him.
“It’s Angel, Spike. And she was never yours. That’s my mark and my Slayer.” Angel lay under Spike, clutching the blond’s wrist, as the other vampire tried pushing the stake he held closer to his target. In spite of his assist from Slayer blood, Angel saw the stake coming inexorably closer to his chest.
Spike paused minutely as he searched the furious yellow eyes of the demon under him. Angel? How could it be? Surely he’d lost his soul…
He never finished the thought. His expression changed from one of puzzlement to complete shock and both he and Angel stared down at the wooden point protruding from his chest. He craned his neck back to look at the naked Slayer looking down at him.
“Buffy?” Whatever Spike had to say was completely lost. Seconds later, his ashes rained down on his prone grandsire.
Angel lay there for another moment before Buffy mutely reached down and pulled him to his feet. He knew the confusion running through her mind although he felt none of the same concern. In spite of his earlier dissatisfaction at learning the nature of Spike’s death from Anya, this new demise brought him no pleasure. Buffy was feeling guilty and cold assurances that she’d done the right thing wouldn’t help her now.
“I-I don’t know what to…Angel, I had to. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to…that sounds awful, doesn’t it? I didn’t love him but he was good to Dawn, to us. He was in love with me and I led him on…”
“I know, love. If he’d tried to hurt you, I would have done the same. You were protecting me. It’s not the first time you’ve done that and it won’t be the last. I’m just sorry it was so hard for you.”
She shook her head and hugged him tightly. She didn’t notice or care about the ashes coating his body that were now getting on hers. “It wasn’t hard, exactly. I didn’t think; I just acted. And he thought he was protecting me. He thought you were Angelus. Maybe if somebody had told him, this wouldn’t have happened.”
“Because he would have been so accepting of the fact that I’d returned?” Angel replied in a wry voice. “Spike and I were going to have a confrontation over you sooner or later. I’m just thankful you were here to protect me.”
She tilted her head up to his. “That’s right. Me the champion. Guess that makes me the knight in shining armor, huh?”
He searched her eyes. She was spun by what had happened; there was no doubt about that. But she wasn’t going to let it overwhelm her.
Angel smirked and bent his lips towards hers. “My hero,” he whispered before he claimed her lips in a kiss.

TBC
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The Shock of the Normal