Adult-FanFiction.org : Buffy

One Clear Shot	By : QueenB Category: AtS/BtVS Crossovers > Het - Male/Female > Angel(us)/Buffy > Angel(us)/Buffy Views: 11736 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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
- 7
- 8
- 9
The Hyperion was fairly quiet as the three men cleaned their weapons. The nights had been busy, both with paid and unpaid work. Business was good, although it could be better in terms of paying clients. At least, that CordCordelia’s constant complaint.
Gunn was joking about the way that demon had spurted goo from an, ahem, unexpected orifice, catching Wesley right in the face. Angel managed a stoic countenance although he could tell from Wesley’s glare his attempts to keep from laughing had been duly noted. Cordelia was resting from her latest vision; the painkillers she was taking didn’t seem to help much in dulling the pain.
He’d maintained secret communications with Giles since his abrupt departure from Sunnydale. Buffy had told Angel how separating from him had hurt her in the future. But he couldn’t talk to her yet. A feeling almost akin to deep terror welled up in him whenever he considered it. But he could and did keep in touch with her Watcher to learn everything he could about her life, even if it was only secondhand. Yet his heart tore at him daily over the loss of his soulmate.
Soulmate. He’d never known that word when he was human. The closest his people came to such a concept was amnchara, a mystical balance between two people of disparate but complementing natures.
Not that young Liam was interested in a soulmate. He had been more the love-‘em-and-leave-‘em-satisfied type. The way he’d wenched his way across Ireland, he probably had a slew of great-great-descendants he knew nothing about.
He certainly hadn’t considered such a thing when he became a vampire. He’d seen enough of over two centuries of mean human selfishness or lust that masqueraded as love to pooh-pooh the notion as the lie it was. If he’d ever seen the true article, his demon had mocked it or sought to destroy it.
Now he knew. Being with Buffy and knowing the horror of a future without her had shown him the wonder, delight and, yes, exquisite pain that such a gift could bring. He hadn’t wanted to leave her. But with the murder of Dr. Williams, he knew he must and his soul felt the loss keenly.
Dawn had been a welcome addition to their crew in the short time she was here. She was a link to Buffy while managing to be completely different from her.
She had won over Gunn simply by her youthful sweetness, a poignant reminder of his lost sister Alanna. She had teased Wesley without the dismissal or contempt of the Scooby gang. Surprisingly, Cordelia, the one member of his team he’d expected her to have the most friction with, had taken Dawn under her wing with a friendliness never shown to her older sister.
Dawn and the former beauty queen had bonded splendidly over clothes shopping, running up a hefty bill on his credit card. He had often heard Dawn giggling over Cordelia’s acidic comments about her former friends in Sunnydale although the teenager had been quite heated in her defense of Xander. They had often discussed the physical attributes of the males around them when they thought he couldn’t hear. The frankness of their compliments about his own form would have made him blush if he’d been capable.
Buffy had insisted that Dawn attend to her studies while in L.A. Giles had enlisted Willow’s help in getting her homework assignments sent on to her and Wesley had proved quite adept in home schooling. He had even coaxed Dawn into learning French. She had rapidly become more fluent than Buffy, an achievement she meant to rub her sister’s nose in when she got back to Sunnydale.
With Glory’s death, he’d been tempted to send her back the moment he returned from the small town. But he kept her a little longer, just to be certain it was safe for her to go back. He kept in touch with Giles to learn if Glory’s followers were still in the neighborhood. It was possible they would simply leave with the death of their god but that dispersal might take a while.
Sure enough, reports had been made of the hellgod’s minions, decrepit monklike figures with horrid skin conditions, wandering madly through the darkened streets of Sunnydale in search of their lost deity. Then they all vanished from Sunnydale as mysteriously as they had entered it.
But that had been days ago and there had been no sign of them since then. Certain the danger was past, he had sent Dawn back to Sunnydale with Wesley along with several bags of new clothes. She and Cordelia had parted with effusive farewells and promises to keep in touch. Before she left, Angel had stressed to Dawn that she couldn’t let Buffy know that he’d been in L.A.
Angel shook off his musings to catch another round of ribbing from Gunn. “Man, getting that stuff out of your clothes is gonna be hell, Wes. Just what kind of cleaner works on demon shit, anyway?”
“As I believe I’ve already informed you, Gunn, that wasn’t its anus. It was the equivalent of an ink ejector on an octopus. The demon apparently emits it when it’s scared or anxious in order to blind its enemies. It has nothing to do with feces,” the Englishman responded stiffly.
The former street tough sniggered. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I still think if it looks like shit and smells like shit, it’s shit.”
“Would you two stop talking about demon goo for one minute? God, I know we’re in the monster hunting racket but you’d think you could discuss something other than disgust-o demonic spewage for a change!” The ex-cheerleader glared at the two of them until they both had the grace to look abashed.
There was a moment’s silence then Gunn piped up with, “Yo, Wes. You catch that Knicks game the other night?”
As the two men began an avid discussion of the game, Cordelia rolled her eyes and let her head drop back onto the couch. She held the moist towel over her forehead with one hand and grimaced at Angel. “I don’t suppose you’ve got any more riveting topics for conversation, do you?”
The directness of the question caught him off guard. “Um, what do you want to talk about?”
“Well…what did you usually talk about with Buffy?”
Buffy? That was easy. Anything and everything about her life was of interest to him. Hearing her tell about her friends, her training with Giles, her struggles with various subjects in school (she really appreciated his unique perspective on history)…all had made for lively conversations. Often he wouldn’t talk at all, merely sit and bask in her bubbling glow as she recounted the day’s events. An unexpected observation made in her light, sweet voice often had the habit of catching him unawares and making him laugh.
Noting his faraway stare, she sighed. “Oops. Shouldn’t have mentioned the B word. But you and her must have gone into other stuff besides the slaying. Come on; hit me, Angel.”
“Maybe I’ll hit him instead.” The icy voice came from the door of the Hyperion and everybody froze. Angel slowly lifted his head to make the stormy gaze of one truly pissed-off Slayer.
Buffy’s smile was like a glittering knife in her angry face. “Hello, honey. Miss me?”
__________
After Buffy assured the others that there wasn’t an emergency, Cordelia had hustled Gunn and Wes out of the hotel. She’d seen that look in Buffy’s eyes too often and knew what it meant. “Trust me, guys. You don’t want to get in the middle of this.”
Buffy and Angel stood in the lobby staring at one another and the vampire felt as if the space were entirely too small to hold the both of them. That’s crazy. There are over 100-odd rooms. That’s plenty of space to hide in.
I’m not going to hide from Buffy! She’s…ticked, I can see that. But we can work through this.
Ticked? No, Cordelia Chase gets ticked. Buffy gets royally pissed and that’s what I’m seeing here. If you’re not gonna run, maybe you should try picking a weapon from the cabinet. C’mon! It’s only a few feet away. We can make it!
Ignoring his cowardly inner voice, he held up his hands. “Buffy, I can explain…”
She marched up to him until she was standing right in his face, her hazel eyes darkened almost to green with the intensity of her emotion. “Explain? Okay, Angel, explain. Explain to me how, after everything you said about never leaving me, you just leave me!”
“It was…there were circumstances.” Oh, that was majorly lame, as Cordelia would say.
“What circumstances?! I’m up against a hellgod and need every member of my team fighting with me and you just pull a disappearing act. I came racing over to your mansion to let you in on the good news and I find out that you’re gone!”
“Good news? What good news?”
She evidently wanted to resume her rant about his terrible behavior but whatever news she had to impart was far more important. She walked over to the hotel lobby couch and plopped down where Cordelia had previously lain. “Giles told me there might be a spell to bind your soul.”
“Bind my…what are you saying?”
“I thought I was being pretty clear. Giles told me that there might be a spell to bind your soul so you can’t lose it again--ever. But he didn’t want to tell you because he didn’t actually have a spell, just the idea to find one. So I kept quiet and kept away from you because I didn’t want to get your hopes up. I wasn’t going to mention it to anybody but I got hurt one night after patrol…”
“You were hurt on patrol?” Giles hadn’t mentioned any serious injury and Angel immediately ran his eyes over Buffy’s lithe form as if he could see through the pale green dress she was wearing.
“Nothing serious and don’t change the subject. I was getting patched up by Willow and wishing you were around and going on about what a bummer it was that we couldn’t be close. One thing led to another and Willow tells me that the soul restoration spell she did for you didn’t have the gypsy curse attached to it.”
“No…curse?” No. No, it couldn’t be true. He’d hoped but…Angel blinked and refocused on what his lover was saying.
“Yeah. The original curse was to give you back your soul and make you suffer. The bit about losing it if you ever experienced total happiness was tacked on to make sure you’d always be Misery Angel. The gypsies were supposed to follow you and make sure you never got that moment of shining bliss. It was all part of their eternal-torture-of-Angel dealie. Only before Jenny could tip you off about that, we…” She flushed and stared down at her feet.
“I see.” He remembered his period as Angelus in Sunnydale. The moments after his soul had been restored for the second time, he couldn’t remember those months at first; he had been so confused. It had only been during his stint in hell that the true ugliness of his alter ego’s actions had been presented to him, over and over again, in vivid screaming Technicolor.
“But Jenny saw what you were like, what we had together and, when she created the curse that time, she…left that part out. She wanted you to be happy, Angel. She must have felt that you’d suffered enough.”
If he’d had a human heartbeat, it would have been thundering in his chest. As it was he could only stare at her in shocked silence as he digested the news. No curse. There was no curse and they were both free. Free to see each other without fear of unleashing a dangerous predator on the world. Free to touch and kiss and…
The vivid fantasies about her that never truly went away crowded to the fore of his mind. Unconsciously he shifted closer to her only to reel back as she slapped his face. His head snapped to the side as she began shouting at him.
“So I go to the mansion all bouncy Buffy with the happy news and you’re not there! By the looks of the dust, you hadn’t been there in days and I didn’t understand it. I thought something had happened to you. I thought you might have been dusted or caught by Glory. I asked around Sunnydale, I begged Giles and the others to search for you but nothing turned up. I was sick with worry! Then Dawn came home and started going on about her great time in L.A. I wondered why she was home when Glory was still a threat and she gave me some story about Wesley and Giles saying the stars weren’t in alignment for Glory to return home so it was safe for her to come back. I actually bought it, but then I got a peek at her diary…”
Angel raised his eyebrows at that statement. “You read your sister’s diary?”
Buffy pulled herself up short, embarrassed. “I wasn’t trying to. But she’s been borrowing my clothes--again--and I was looking for one of my sweaters when it fell out of the top shelf of the closet and fell open. I saw your name and all about her wonderful time in L.A. with my lover.”
Her anger returning, she poked him in the chest with one finger. “Then I had to wait for the weekend because there was no way my mom was letting me run out on a school night just so I could hunt down my lying, skeezy boyfriend.”
She leaned against the back of the couch and glared at him. “Now it’s your turn, Angel. Spill it. Why’d you leave Sunnydale and why did you tell my sister to lie to me about it?”
Angel ran his hands through his cropped hair and tried to think of what to say. He’d had time and opportunity to come up with this speech and now the moment was here and he could barely get the words out. It wasn’t helping his concentration any to have Buffy so close.
Her eyes sparkled in the light and her breasts were heaving with agitation. The graduated, clingy green dress did marvelous things to her figure. She may have been furious with him but it hadn’t prevented her from dressing to her advantage.
She was just so beautiful when she was angry, although he knew he wouldn’t win any points by telling her that now. In an effort to concentrate, he averted his dark eyes from hers and asked in a low voice, “Buffy, do you remember how you told me Glory was hiding in a human shell?”
“Yeah. That was the last thing we discussed and then you showed up at UC Sunnydale.”
“I found the mortal.”
“The mortal?” Her puzzlement was apparent and then the light dawned. “You mean the human skin Glory’s been playing Jekyll and Hyde with? You found out who it is?”
“I caught up to him that night that woman April tossed me out the window.”
“Robot,” she corrected.
“What?”
“She wasn’t a woman. She was a robot crafted by a techno-geek called Warren Meers. It was a whole ‘No woman loves me, so I’ll make a sex toy for myself’ deal gone bad.” She waved her hand in impatient dismissal. “Sad story. Over story. Get on with your story.”
He wanted to pursue the matter of that robotic woman. He hadn’t believed that such things were possible outside of science fiction. But his tale was more important. “Like I said, I found the mortal shell of Glory. It was a man called Dr. Ben Williams.”
“Oh, I know him! He was handling my mother’s case when she kept going in for those tests at the hospital… Wait, he’s Glory’s better half? Wow, I never would have guessed.”
Oh no, it was worse than he’d feared. Buffy had actually known this man and the difficulty of this confession had just increased tenfold.
Her beloved’s lapse into pained silence didn’t go unnoticed. “Angel? What about Dr. Williams? What happened when you met him? H-he didn’t try to brain suck you, did he?”
“He never got the chance, Buffy. I confronted him in the parking lot and something he said, the way he acted…I knew he was Glory. Before he could change--I killed him.”
The silence stretched out interminably until the vampire couldn’t stand it any longer. He risked a glance into Buffy’s face to see her staring sightlessly at him. Her expression was impassive and all at once he needed to hear the worst. Was she disgusted with him? Did she hate him? Would she get up now and walk out and never speak to him again? “Buffy? Please…say something,” he whispered.
“You said this happened the same night I tangled with April.”
“That’s right.”
“I came after patrol that night to talk to Giles and he told me about binding your soul. I wanted to run and let you know but he convinced me not to. In fact, he got pretty wiggy about my being anywhere around you. He knew about it, didn’t he?”
“I came to him and told him that Glory was no longer a problem. But I didn’t tell him what I’d done although I think he guessed. I didn’t want him to tell you about it, Buffy. That was for me to do.”
“So Giles has known all this time about what you did and where you were and he kept it from me?” The anger on her face was replaced by betrayed hurt and her bottom lip quivered.
Taking a chance on her reaction, he slid closer to her although he avoided touching her yet. “I’m sorry to have laid that cross on him, Buffy. I just couldn’t bear to face you or anybody else. He was the only one I could trust not to tell you until I was ready.”
“All this time, I was so worried about Glory. I was running myself ragged over her! He’s my Watcher; he should have let me know. Then at least I could have had peace of mind about her.”
“I know, love. Believe me. It was a terrible thing I did to him, putting him in the middle of the two of us. But I was a wreck. At the time, I saw my pain as being greater than any moral quandary I put Giles in. Please don’t be angry with him. I’m the one who can’t be forgiven.”
For the first time the pained guilt and anguish in his voice seeped through her consciousness and she lifted her head to search his eyes. “Angel, you can’t beat yourself up over this.”
“Can’t I?” he said harshly. “You can’t say this is a case of my demon committing this act, Buffy. This wasn’t Angelus’s doing; ‘twas mine. I didn’t even look for another option! I killed a man with my soul intact.” The last few words emerged in a vicious growl filled with self-loathing and his features shifted to his gameface before returning to their normal human planes.
“Angel, I know this wasn’t what you wanted to do. But it had to be done, didn’t it? I mean, there was no other way to stop Glory. The Council researched but they couldn’t come up with anything. Willow didn’t think there was a spell powerful enough to stop her. Giles couldn’t learn about any weaknesses she might have like kryptonite or a weak heel like that Achilles guy. We weren’t even sure if a Trollgod hammer would do the trick. What were your other choices?”
“I-I don’t know.”
She could tell he wasn’t convinced. So she shifted gears slightly. “Why did you kill him then? I’m the Slayer; that was my job. Why not let me take care of it?”
“That’s just what I didn’t want, Buffy! You told me you’d died facing this creature. I couldn’t take the chance that might happen. If anyone was to fall against this thing, I wanted it to be me. I’m already dead; it would have been no loss. But by killing Dr. Williams…this way, no one would have to fight and die. Especially not you.”
“You killed him for me?”
He rested his head in his large hands. She was prepared to forgive him for putting her life before this man’s own. But how could he tell her it wasn’t that simple, that it wasn’t the matter of a mere trade? He raised his head to stare at her and willed her to understand.
“Buffy, I’m an Irish Catholic. The church and I haven’t exactly been friends for over two centuries,” he added with a wry smile. “But when my soul came back and my conscience with it--let’s just say a lot of retroactive church-fueled guilt came crashing down on me all at once. To us, the taking of a life is never a light thing.”
“Even if it’s done for the greater good?”
“You can’t justify such things, Buffy. That’s what leads to genocide. Just ask the Jews who were persecuted by Hitler.” He paused a moment to let that sink in.
She bit her lip as if wrestling with her conscience. Then she whispered, “Angel, I have to be confessy here. I-I tried to kill Faith.”
“What? No, you just put her in a coma.”
“I know. That’s what the diaries told me was going to happen. But that only did because I became killer Buffy. I knew she was going to shoot you and I didn’t tell you because I knew that one event would lead to another and she had to be Coma Girl so she could be a better person in the future. I kept that from you and risked your life…just so I could take hers.”
He saw what she intended. “But you weren’t trying to kill her this time around, were you, Buffy?”
“Not at first. But when we started fighting, I lost it, Angel. I didn’t remember that she was going to be better in the future. I didn’t see the decent Faith who’d try to make good in a few years. I saw the lying, boyfriend-stealing bitch who walked on the dark side, the one who chained me to a wall and threatened to slice me up with little knives. I got all caught up in the fight and, when I stabbed her, it wasn’t about the future. It was about payback.”
“Then why didn’t you kill her?”
“I looked at her and I thought about how you’d want to help her. About how you probably saw her as being like yourself. But I just let her fall off a tall building. Even knowing the future, that was still a big risk to take. She might have wound up in the morgue instead of the hospital.”
“Buffy, it’s not the same.”
“No, it’s not. You’re a demon, Angel. You’ve said that to me often enough so killing humans, pretty much part of your nature. I’m supposed to protect humans not kill them because I’m the Slayer. What’s my excuse?”
This was a valid point and obviously one to which she’d given a lot of thought. He struggled in his mind for a counter argument but none sprang to mind.
She clasped his hand. “You see, Angel? No black and white here. Only shades of gray and we’re both kinda coated with it. Tell you what. You forgive me and I’ll forgive you. Deal?”
At least she was making this easy on him. Forgiving himself was never an option but knowing that she did went far in easing the burden on his already tortured soul.
Sensing his surrender, she scooted closer and then sat in his lap. She pressed her lips over his softly. Caught by surprise, he didn’t respond for a moment. Then he wrapped his arms about her diminutive body and drew her close.
He’d taught her a lot about kissing and Buffy was determined to put everything she knew to the test. She ran her tongue all across his lower lip in one rapid, teasing flick. She pulled away slightly and came back again. This time her tongue was more insistent, parting the lips and stroking along the tops of the teeth. When his tongue came out and began playing with hers, she shifted closer and began wriggling her bottom across his lap.
Angel could feel heat--from her desire, her thickening lust-filled scent, her warm body pressing against his. It surged through him and he growled softly in reaction. She let the sound buzz against her lips and then pulled back to eye him with a mischievous expression. She purred, “So what do you say? Shall we test Willow’s theory about the curse?”
__________
He chuckled and picked her up in his arms. He didn’t want to spend a single moment away from her mouth. Angel raced up the stairs with his light burden and fumbled awkwardly with the door to his room before she wiggled enough for him to set her down.
She paused in the open doorway to appreciate the Spartan décor. The furniture was heavy, dark and solid--with the bed only a few feet from the door. Well, this is a hotel, after all. I guess most guests would want to get right down to business.
The wanton thought caused her to blush and then she sucked in a breath. Cool hands had encircled her waist from behind and his fingers began tracing circular paths over her stomach. A whisper wafted by her ear. “Have you changed your mind?”
“N-no.” She cleared her throat and tried again. “Nope.” The hands rose and cupped her breasts and she could feel them swelling in his hands. She sighed and leaned her head back against the broad chest behind her. “Definitely not.”
He pressed kisses onto her neck and shoulders from behind. He wanted to prolong things and teasing her like this was just the way to do it. She sighed again and her little butt made tiny wiggling circles against his pants just as they had downstairs. He growled, the vibration thrumming against the skin on the lower part of her neck and she could feel it all the way down to her toes. Buffy moaned and eased around in his grasp until she was facing him again.
Her kisses were eager with all the flame of ardent youth but her hands touched him with a new awareness that hadn’t been there during their first time together. When they cupped and squeezed his buttocks, he grunted and arched against her, pressing his tightened slacks close. His fingers found the zipper in the back of the green dress and began slowly pulling it down.
The last click from the teeth and the diaphanous dress fell away from her skin in a whisper of cloth to pool around her tiny feet. Angel stared in rapt delight at the vision of succulent, tanned flesh clad in barely there satin bra and panties only a few shades darker than the green cloth lying at her feet. There was no spare flesh anywhere on her yet she managed to be curvy without boniness. “Venus rising from the waves,” he murmured in appreciation and watched a sweet flush sweep over her skin at the praise.
She stepped out of the pool and tugged at his sweater. She smiled at the dark blue material; Cordelia must have been nagging him to try color in his wardrobe. It still wasn’t too far from his usual black and she was glad. She’d never realized before the aesthetic beauty of somber colors against his paleness but fell in love with his gorgeous skin all over again when his top was finally pulled away.
He was so breathtakingly handsome with his robust physique. Buffy had always favored tall, dark men; she wondered how her future self could have preferred Spike’s scrawny, short stature after someone like Angel. She could understand Parker and Riley in that context; Spike, never.
Buffy stood on her toes, nipping all along the collarbones, brushing her tongue into the hollow at the base of his neck. Angel growled when the teeth came so close. He remembered all too well the fierce pleasure such an action brought when Darla would bite him in the throes of passion. Buffy and he hadn’t progressed much beyond the missionary position on her 17th birthday and he longed to show her the full extent of pleasure their bodies could bring them.
Now he teased her again by cupping her breasts and rubbing the satiny material of the bra across her skin without actually removing the article. Buffy moaned and thrust forward impatiently. She wanted the clothing gone. She wanted those cool fingers leaving trails of heat over her flesh. But the vampire was an accomplished master of seduction. A long drawn-out interplay was what he wanted and he meant to have his way.
He left her breasts, aching with the mere hint of touch, and then caressed his hand in widening circles over her back. Her buttocks twitched like a pony’s as he patted and rubbed them. Every part of her was so responsive, alert to his every touch.
With the edge of the panties between his fingers, he tugged it repeatedly so the satin dragged between her legs, rubbing the moist slit. In moments she was squirming and gasping with each back-and-forth movement. She was moist and growing wetter with each glancing movement. Seizing the opportunity to taste her mouth, he crushed her body to his and plundered the opening between her lips.
His tongue battled with hers, straining to taste all the ripe lushness of her mouth. The coolness was in such wicked contrast to her own. It should have tasted clammy but it did not. It was ice and cleansing rain all dropped into her at once. She sucked at his tongue and followed the path back into his mouth. He curved it nimbly so it brushed all along the ticklish ridged flesh just behind her teeth.
It was too much for her. She could barely breathe with all the things he was doing to her and now he was robbing her of the little air she had left. Just as she thought she would pass out from the stimulation above and below, he mercifully released her mouth and let her breathe.
Her breath flew from between lips puffy from kissing. Her eyes were shining as she gazed up into his face and she noticed that he looked remarkably composed. Well, that wasn’t right, was it? Maybe she couldn’t make him pant but she’d have him screaming before she was done.
Before he could figure out her next move, she’d unbuckled his belt and zipped it out of the loops with only a few deft moves. She began inching her fingers into the tops of his pants while avoiding the thick length she’d felt against her stomach just moments before.
“B-Buffy,” he whispered as warm fingers traveled downwards. Her hands left his thighs just as he was getting used to them and placed themselves on his buttocks instead. It was his turn to wince and wiggle as she pinched the delicate flesh.
Then she unzipped his pants and pulled them down with one brisk tug. She smiled widely at the sight of his cock rearing up proudly against his belly. [Goodness. Memory didn’t lie, I see.] The thick, veined cock stood up almost vertically and she licked her lips at the sight. Now her wiggle was against bare flesh and the rumbling sound from his chest made her breasts tingle.
Buffy wanted to feel him on top of her, inside her, and she was no longer willing to wait. All during the drive she could sense the strong pull of her mate drawing her ever closer to the hotel. It had flared up with shocking intensity the moment she’d set foot in the Hyperion and she’d brook no further delay. She relished the look of pleased surprise on his face as she took advantage of her slayer speed and flipped him onto the bed.
She knelt beside him as he reclined and Angel’s sharp eyes noted the front enclosure on her bra. He thought it a nice innovation and deftly unsnapped it with one hand so her breasts swung free. She grinned and wriggled out of the straps and threw it onto the floor.
Buffy lay on top of him, her tiny form barely covering his own larger frame. Raising herself slightly on her arms she rocked her lower body over his. The erect cock was pressed between their bodies, stroked by her panties and her equally smooth belly. The large length reared up between her legs and she could see drops of moisture steadily oozing from the tip.
Angel gasped and murmured something under his breath, a Gaelic phrase Buffy recalled from all the times they used to make out before and after he lost his soul. Just the sound of his voice, roughened with desire, speaking that ancient tongue was enough to arouse her and now was no exception.
Large hands clasped over her butt again, holding her still. “You want me to stop, Angel?” she whispered, her thighs pinning his.
The friction was terrific but now he was the impatient one. “No, Buffy,” he ground out. “It’s just…”
She smirked; his frustration was so cute. “I know. Too much pressure,” she quipped. She leaned forward and lapped at his mouth, drawing back before he got too comfortable. She ran her lips down to his nipples. Lapping and sucking caused him to moan. Biting changed the moans to growls.
Buffy had read the details of her future self’s grindings with Spike and the various places they’d done it. The constant undercurrent of pain and self-loathing in those passages had nauseated her. But somewhere deep inside she had experienced an undeniable, dark thrill. She wondered if, maybe, she could do the same with Angel.
Yet even during their frequent times spent groping during or after patrol, she could never bring herself to loosen up enough to try those things. The shame and ugliness of having done the nasty with Spike--even if it never truly happened this time--clouded the experiences. She couldn’t bring herself to discuss her fears with Angel; as if sensing her doubts, he never pressed her.
So here and now she was suddenly shy. That Buffy from the future had slept with three other men and gained a certain amount of confidence. She’d had only one truly complete sexual encounter and it was with the man in bed with her. He knew the full extent of her inexperience and all her assurance began to drain away.
He sensed her new hesitancy. “Beloved? What’s wrong?”
A shaky smile was his only answer. The last thing she wanted was to bring up her feelings of inadequacy. She ducked her head and kissed him thoroughly to regain her courage. “It’s nothing I can’t handle,” she murmured when her lips were free. A stroking from her hand revealed just how eager she was to handle him.
Her lips ran over his throat in one continuous erratic pattern. The firm muscles of his chest twitched under her mouth as she resumed her earlier biting actions. This time she teased him by avoiding his nipples until a hand tangled in her hair pushed her mouth right where he wanted it.
But he knew his Buffy; she wasn’t as sure as she pretended. Her movements got less confident but more aggressive as if she were determined to push away her unease by sheer willpower. When her tongue dipped into his navel, he decided to call a halt to the proceedings. “Buffy, you don’t have to do this.”
She lifted her head from where it lay on his stomach. The blonde hair was spread over the hard planes of his belly, the strands tickling his cock unbearably. “Angel, I want to. I know men like it, so…”
He drew her body alongside his. “I do. But I don’t want you to do anything if you’re not comfortable with it.”
She hid her face in his neck and traced idle patterns on his stomach with her fingers. “I just didn’t want to disappoint you again,” she said in a small voice.
He caught her roaming hand in his own, halting her movements. He knew what she was referring to and the memory shamed him. He’d managed to hurt her and make her uncertain about her sexuality. Angelus had spoiled what should have been one of the happiest nights of her life and he regretted that deeply.
Angel brought her hand up to his lips and kissed the tip of each finger. “Buffy, you didn’t disappoint me. If anything, I disappointed you.”
Her gaze shot up to his and she gaped in shock. “Are you kidding? Angel, it was…I mean, I’d had fantasies and it was definitely better than any of them…like, wow! Willow and I talked about it for ages and she hoped her first time would be just as great.”
A smug smile of masculine pride flitted over his countenance before being replaced by his usual grave expression. “No, that’s not what I meant. There’s more to sex than the act itself, Buffy. There’s a before, during and after. I’m afraid I ruined the ‘after’ for you. But the experience was everything I’d hoped for with you. Believe me, love. You couldn’t disappoint me. I lost my soul because of it, remember?”
Her eyes probed his as if searching for signs of dishonesty. Then she was apparently convinced because she nestled close to him again. “So…can we get to that ‘during’ part now?”
He chuckled quietly at the boldness of the query and delicacy of the language. He rolled over so he was on top. For the moment, he was content to wait while he reaffirmed his passion for her. He held up the breasts. They were small and fit perfectly into his hands. “These are beautiful,” he purred. “Such perky nipples.” A slight flick from his fingers and both nubs sprang to attention, eliciting a small gasp from the blonde slayer.
“They look so good.” He bent his head and swept a pointed tongue around the left one until it shone with moisture. He blew so it hardened even further and then drew it between his lips. When he stopped for a moment, he whispered, “And they taste even better.”
Buffy shut her eyes; she wanted to concentrate completely on what he was doing to her. Soft murmurs of appreciation came from her as his head swept back and forth between her breasts. He left them, the nipples swollen and wet, to brush human teeth across the butterfly expanse of her ribs.
“You’ve got a gorgeous stomach. I love the way it feels under my hands, the way it quivers.” Suiting action to words, he stroked his broad hand over the mound. A thin line of golden-brown hair ran from the navel down to the top of her panties. He allowed his fingers to play with them briefly and watched in delight as her hips thrust up to prolong contact.
He kissed her stomach and down over one hip. His tongue trailing across her inner thigh laid down a path. She squealed, her leg jumping in his grasp. When the tremors subsided, he planted tiny kisses all along the insides of both thighs.
“So buttery soft, like kidskin--or satin.” He trailed his fingers along the elastic edge of her underpants, forgotten until now. He sucked the juices seeping through the porous material, tonguing and blowing across the fabric.
Buffy’s hips had been arching forward with every phantom breath. But Angel had drawn back each time, anticipating her moves and keeping her dancing on the edge. She wanted to scream with the denied release but he was evidently determined to spin this out for as long as possible. And he was pulling away! His lips left her panties and trailed down her leg once more while she could have clawed the bedsheets from frustration.
“You’ve got such delicate and smooth legs but so strong, too. I can still remember what it felt like to have them locked around me while you lay under me. I would lie awake at nights dreaming of your embrace, about how accepted, whole and protected I felt with you. It was as if all the pain and loneliness dropped from me and I thought ‘Nothing can hurt me. My beloved is with me.’”
She made him feel protected? Wow and she had thought she was the needy one. Her desire and love rushed back full force as the last of her doubts fell away. She felt unexpected moisture burning her eyes and she stroked her knee along one pale cheek to draw his attention to her words. “I dreamed about you, too, Angel. We’re here together now. Time to stop dreaming.”
Wordlessly, he reached up and tugged at the panties. Her hips came up to help him and he drew them down her legs and tossed them onto the floor next to the discarded bra. He swept cool hands up the quivering legs and lithe thighs until his head was resting just above her mound. Now he repeated what he’d done while the barrier of her underpants still lay between them. He blew cool air across her clit until she writhed in the bed. Then one broad tongue began stroking the wet creases of her cunt.
Buffy cried out at that first touch, so longed for and so unbearable when it finally came. He lapped her in earnest, his tongue darting in seemingly random touches all along the petal-like labia. He pushed within her every now and then, always when she least expected it. Each dive was deeper and more prolonged than the last. When he left the folds to suck her clit onto the tip of his tongue, she arched until her back felt like breaking. “Angel! Don’t…stop! I think I’m…oooh!”
She wound her fingers in his hair again, dragging him tight between her legs. Now he brought his fingers into play, the long digits reaching places inside her smaller fingers never could, while his tongue licked and sucked her. He squeezed his lips firmly around the little nubbin and sucked hard. It wasn’t enough; it was too much. Her hips pressed into his face and she came at last.
The shrill scream tore from her throat and he was glad her legs were tight over his ears; he might have gone deaf otherwise. He slid along her body, coming to rest beside her, while she trembled with the lesser waves. A gleaming sweat lay all over her and he watched the flush die slowly from her skin. God, she was exquisite and, by her impatient hands running across his chest, already eager for more.
She pulled him down onto her again and opened her mouth to his kisses. She could taste her own cum on his tongue and there was a strange thrill in sucking it off like this. She’d heard that men hated the act of cunt licking yet Angel brought to it enthusiasm as well as experience. She wondered if Riley and Parker had been that good and then dismissed the thought of them. They were part of a never-to-be-experienced future and she was happy to leave them there.
Angel savored every part of his Buffy. Vampires were deeply sensual creatures and he knew all of her intimately through his senses: the changeling color of her eyes when her moods shifted, the silken feel of her flesh, the taste of her blood, sweat and feminine juices, the vanilla scent that always clung to her and the sound of her heartbeat and skin shifting inside her clothes whenever she moved.
Now the heat from her skin was rising again and the damp thickening between her legs. He positioned himself between her thighs and his buttocks quivered as she grasped them under her hands. Her body stiffened and his name came in one extended moan as he entered her.
Between their last coupling and this one lay four years of pent-up desire. He had done things to her to keep her from being frustrated and sent her home countless times on clouds of female bliss. They had taken foreplay to new heights that would have shamed all the horny teenagers who ever made out in Sunnydale’s many parks. But always behind those make-out sessions lay the memory of their one and only time together.
Now he was here and calling her name in his lilting Gaelic accent as his length surged into her body. Buffy cried out again at the sudden invasion so that Angel halted, appalled. She was just as tight as that first time and he was afraid he’d hurt her.
“Oh, Angel…feels so good. I want you. Don’t stop, please.” Her whispered pleas sounded genuine and he searched her face for signs of hurt. No, it had been pleasure not pain that elicited her outcry and the last of his fears vanished.
He withdrew and then his back bent, sinking himself deeper within the wet clinging passage. “Aaaaahhh, Buffy. Beloved,” he whispered. He clasped her around her shoulders, drawing her closer. One trim leg wound around his waist, her Slayer strength crushing his body against hers. With one final thrust he was lodged fully inside her and he paused, savoring the joy of knowing her intimately once more.
Only moments passed before he began anew, the ancient driving rhythm melding them. Their bodies came together and apart, quicker and harder with each passing second. Soon she was spurring him on, her earlier hesitation forgotten, as she grabbed him with all her limbs wound tight.
It had hurt a little at first; his cock was so big and thick and it had been so long since they’d done this. But the pain passed quickly. She could feel every inch of ridged flesh filling her and she only craved more of it.
Now he relished the tightness of her as he drove back in with a motion that was almost violent in its unrestrained passion. The wet folds let him out with a slurping noise that was exaggerated a thousand times by his keen hearing. The uninhibited noises caused him to growl, harsher and louder than he had before, as he strove to bury himself in the hot sweetness of her body.
Angel’s thrusts were pressing her into the bed, squeezing the breath out of her so that her mouth opened wide, gulping for air. But she didn’t care. She didn’t want him to hold back, not now, not ever. She drew up her legs, locking them around his waist, and the altered position caused his pubic bone to bang hard into her clit.
Inner Slayer muscles gripped him so that he groaned at the pressure just where he wanted it. “Buffy, god, Buffy, my love, so beautiful,” he chanted. Her body, just as he had dreamed for so many nights, was his at last. Her cries, her passion, her love--all for him. The possessive animal part of his nature that he normally kept under iron control burst loose and his face shifted.
The Slayer opened her eyes to meet the golden gaze of the beast. But she knew her vampire and this was he not Angelus staring down at her. The warrior within her cried out to destroy this monster but her heart knew the truth that lay under it.
Here was her mate, her other half, the perfect match to herself and her breath caught that she could do this to him, could cause him to lose control so completely. She drew his face down to hers and kissed him boldly, slicing open her tongue on his fangs.
The small taste of her blood was his undoing. He pistoned harder, her heels beating a tattoo on his ass, as he sucked on her tongue as if it were a nipple. He had never bitten her since that terrible illness induced by Faith’s arrow. He had given in to the urge to lick her wounds whenever she was injured on patrol and she had encouraged him to do it once she saw that it made her cuts heal faster. However, that was as far as it ever went.
But now the potent fluid hit his tongue and he growled again in ferocious desire. He twisted away from her mouth and ducked his head into the bend of her neck. His tongue rasped against his mark, the ridged crooked line seeming to leap into his mouth.
“Angel!” Many nights she had brought herself off by fingering herself and stroking the mark. In spite of her intimate conversations with Willow, she had never told the redhead just what this simple scar did for her. One stroke of her finger across it and her body melted into a liquid puddle.
Now Angel was licking it, bathing it with his tongue. With the first scrape of a fang across it, she arched, the jolt of sensation almost causing her to crush him between her thighs. “Oh god, Angel. Yes. Please. Bite me!”
He sucked the flesh more firmly but didn’t bite down yet. He knew from past experience that the event would soon be over with the bite and he wanted to keep her wriggling on the hook just a little longer.
He was bucking harder and faster, her hips rising to meet his with no sign of pain or slowing. Slayer muscles flexed and gripped his cock and she was calling and panting in his ear but he wouldn’t bite. She sobbed with need and then, giving in to instinct, she tore into the thick column of his neck with her own teeth. Inexpertly, she gnawed the flesh and sucked the blood oozing from the ragged wound.
A furious shudder shook him and he gave way at last. The fangs sliced open the skin on her neck and he came as her blood splashed across his tongue. His entire body stiffened as his cock lurched once, twice inside her. The cool seed shot deep within her body as Angel drank from her, the pungent warmth of her Slayer blood causing him to cum again and again.
She thrust back her head and screamed as every muscle in her body seemed to convulse at once. For a brief span of time, she felt fused to her beloved as if she couldn’t tell where he ended and she began. The building could have collapsed around them and she wouldn’t have noticed nor cared.
Buffy’s eyes opened in confusion to find Angel staring anxiously at her. “What happened?”
“I’m not sure. I think you passed out.”
“Really?” She grinned weakly as she tried to ease his fear. “Well, consider that a compliment,” she murmured.
There was no more sound in the room for several moments except her panting breaths as he nursed drowsily at her neck. He’d pulled back almost at once, dragging his tongue across it to slow the pulsing flow to a mere trickle. Now he contented himself with the occasional sip, punctuated with fleeting kisses to her lips. She didn’t appear to mind the blood any more than she’d minded the appearance of his gameface earlier. He wondered if she’d even noticed.
Her eyes had deepened to emerald green again with sated lust and she searched his gaze. “So…no Angelus?”
He cast around in his own mind. He could always sense his demon dimly lurking on the edges of his consciousness. The monster was still there but there was no sign of weakening of the mental chains that held him locked inside. “He’s here…but it looks like he’s staying put.”
“Good.” She snuggled closer and he basked in the absolute trust she showed in him. He hated to ruin the tenderness of this moment. But she had to know the danger.
“Buffy…the last time I lost my soul, it took a while. It didn’t happen right away.”
She heard the note of worry in his voice and raised her head. “How long did it take?”
He furrowed his brows as he considered. He had been rapt in gazing at her sleeping face throughout that stormy night. He hadn’t been aware of the danger so he hadn’t been watching a clock. “I’m not sure. Maybe a couple of hours.”
“Oh. That gives me time then. Do you have chains in the hotel?”
He nodded heavily. “They’re in my closet.”
Oh, that was a surprise. “Your closet? Funny place to keep hardware like that, Angel. Or is this a kink Angelus has got?”
He scowled at the amusement on her face. She wasn’t taking this seriously enough. “The others thought it would be best. Well, Wesley didn’t think it was necessary but Cordelia felt better safe than cocktails.”
“Chalk one up for the cheerleader then,” Buffy sighed. She rose from the mattress though she was loath to abandon the hunky male in bed with her. Angel watched her naked form in appreciation as she walked to the closet, displaying a complete lack of modesty. He ran his eyes all over the trim tanned legs and bouncing buttocks as they bunched and flexed with each step.
She opened the closet and rummaged around in the bottom, bringing up the heavy chains in her hands. When she brought back the manacles and shackles, she paused and noted the renewed erection. She held up the chains and wagged her finger at him. “Uh uh. We have to make sure you’re safe first.”
He scowled but all she did was straddle him and begin shackling him to the bed. It wasn’t until she was on the first leg iron that it occurred to him that he was still naked. “Uh, Buffy?”
“Mmmm hmmm?” She leaned back on his erection as if oblivious to the way it twitched between her legs and inspected her handiwork with one head bent to the side.
“I don’t want the others to walk in and see me like this.”
“So we’ll lock the door.” She gave one of the shackles an experimental tug and he winced. They were a little too tight but not unduly so.
“Ah. What’ll we tell them?”
“Well, after I get out of here, I’ll tell them the truth…that we think your soul is bound but I’m keeping you locked down just to be sure. Where are the keys for these things?”
“In the drawer to your left.” Buffy rummaged around and located them. Then she sat back on his aching cock and wriggled until he groaned.
“You said this may take a couple of hours. What will we do to pass the time ‘til then?” The wriggling motion turned into a steady stroking so her lower lips brushed repeatedly over his length. The groaning noises became rumbling ones and he strained upward to meet her movements.
The mischievous smile on her face--a sly combination of false innocence and cunning--made it perfectly clear what she had in mind. She let her eyes pass over his body: the wide, filled-out chest, the lean hips, the arms and legs spread-eagled to bed, making him helpless to move. The scenario was wild, like something out of her future self’s diaries, and the desire filled her to take advantage of this unlooked-for opportunity.
She leaned back, still continuing the steady movements of her buttocks and raised her hands slowly up her waist to her breasts. She held them up with her hands and began running her fingers around the curves, bringing them close to but not touching the nipples pointed towards him. “Do you like what you see, Angel?”
The vampire’s eyes had widened as he watched the movements of her hands. She halted what she was doing and asked him again, “I said, do you like what you see?”
“Y-yes.” It was a bare whisper, as his eyes remained riveted to the spectacle of his beloved handling herself. She was excited by his submissive pose; it was bringing out a side of her nature Angel rarely saw.
She rocked faster and let her fingers lightly circle the straining tips. Her eyelids drooped so her hazel eyes became shadowed. “Mmmm. Do you see yourself touching them?”
“Yes. Buffy, come closer.” His voice was hoarse and he jerked futilely at the chains binding him to the bed.
Ignoring his request, she closed her eyes and whispered, “I can feel you touching them. I can feel you holding them with your cool hands, rubbing, squeezing, and pinching my nipples. You hold them up to your mouth like you did earlier.”
“Buffy.” The word emerged as a warning growl but he was powerless to do anything to speed up the action. Buffy was in control and she was enjoying every minute of it.
Her juices were leaking out of her and he could hear the faint slick noises as she jerked faster over his penis. She moaned softly as her clit brushed the bulging head and let her head fall back. The acorn-tipped nubs of her tits played hide-and-seek as she palmed and stroked them. “You’re licking them and biting them. I want you to bite harder but you keep on teasing me,” she said in a faint whisper. She sank her nails lightly into the flesh so the nipples peeked out from between her fingers, jutting towards him.
“Beloved, please. Let me lick them. I’ll bite them if that’s what you want. Just please…come closer.” He was begging now but he didn’t care. He never thought Buffy would play with him like this; it was better than he could have wished. But he wanted more contact with her and the minx seemed determined to deny him.
She twisted her hips and he gasped needlessly, arching so she was lifted slightly from the bed. She lost her balance and fell forward. Buffy came to rest with her hands on both sides of his head, the nipples hovering just above his head. Her spine undulated like a cat’s so the tips bobbed back and forth, tantalizingly out of reach. “Tell me you want me,” she demanded.
“I want you. You can feel how much I want you.” He rocked his hips again and she pressed back against them.
Gorgeous hazel eyes were fixed on his, her hands planted on his chest, keeping the distance between them. “Do you want to be inside me? Do you want to make love to me?”
A harsh growl was her only answer. The chains rattled with his frantic jerks. The waiting was driving him insane but he had to trust she’d put an end to this soon. His gameface appeared and disappeared in rapid shifts, his demon under only tenuous control.
Buffy reveled in this visible sign of his passion. She wondered how often she could make it happen. She scooted back onto his thighs so she could play with the tumescent cock. Now that she could do so without his interference, she drew out her touches. The penis pulsed in her hands as if it had a life of its own. She tugged on the pubic hairs and watched his dick jerk and dance. The wrinkles on his testicles shifted against her palm as she cupped and rolled the heavy balls.
The vampire struggled, his moans filling the room as the delightful torture continued. Buffy explored his cock with both hands, stroking him up and down, playing with the foreskin and smearing the precum all over the shaft. Both sticky hands were brought up to her lips and she sucked her fingers, knowing his eyes were following every move.
Then she leaned down and lapped at the tip. He moaned, his hands clenching and unclenching with the unconscious urge to push her head, and the desperation in his gesture made her smile. Buffy grasped the cock, feeling it throb in her grip, and inhaled deeply. The musky odor, the cool hardness of his erection, the salty goodness of the delicious precum and shiny muscular length--it went to her head and made her giddy with the sensations. She fitted her lips over the arrowlike head and sucked it down, coating it liberally with her saliva.
Angel’s body was trembling, the sensation of her lips causing his whole frame to become rigid as a pole. He gasped as his lungs drew in air he didn’t need and his hips jerked upward in the warmth of her mouth. “God, Buffy. It’s so…you’ve got the best mouth. Suck me, please. Harder.”
A brief choking ensued and then she relaxed. She bobbed her head, opening her jaw as much as she could so she could accommodate his massive size. The big head touched the back of her throat and she paused, her nose pressed to the curly black hairs.
He smelled good and she bet he tasted even better. So she went to work in earnest. She drew back up the length until nothing but the head was left. Hearing his incoherent pleas, she worked her way slowly down again, jiggling his balls in her fingers and circling the anus. When she did that, she felt his body jump and when she pressed against the clenched ring, he shouted and bucked his hips towards her hand.
Did he like that? She wasn’t sure what that would do; there’d been no info about that in the diaries. But maybe she could find out. The dick was sucked in hard. She slurped, licked and caressed the pulsating length. Angel’s voice rose to steady growls and shouts and pleas.
“Baby. Don’t stop. Do that again. God, you’re so good, real good. More.” He didn’t really need to encourage her and she was doing great on her own. Another hard suck and he shook. His balls drew up near his body and he knew what would happen next.
With Darla he wouldn’t have bothered with a warning. But this was Buffy’s first time doing this and he didn’t want to disgust nor frighten her. “Buffy, I’m gonna cum,” he whispered hoarsely.
She didn’t stop nor pause. She merely sped up her movements and, just as his cock leaped within her mouth, she sank one slim finger into his anus. Angel’s face shifted and he roared, his orgasm overcoming him at last. Buffy spluttered with the stream of cum. Then she quickly regained control and greedily gulped down every drop.
“Mmm. That was good.” She licked her lips like a cat with a plate of cream and he blinked in an attempt to get his vision to refocus.
“Good doesn’t describe it,” he mumbled. “Any chance it’ll get better?”
She grinned and she raised herself away from him. He lamented the loss of contact with her, expressed in a throaty moan that was almost like a whine. What the fuck? Okay, he didn’t whine for anybody, not even for Spike when Marcus had been torturing him.
But she didn’t leave him in suspense as to her next move. She licked briskly along his cock again to get every bit of cum she might have missed and smiled as she saw it instantly leap to attention. Sucking on his balls caused the blood to pump into his dick until it once again rose proud and shaking along his stomach. Then she raised herself over him until the very tip was poised at her cunt.
Holding him with her eyes, she sank unhurriedly over him, pausing to let him swell and fit every crevice. She began a languid rhythm as she started whispering to him. “Angel. Do you know how this feels, how good it is? You’re so big, it almost hurts but in a good way, like you’re becoming a part of me.” She moved faster as she got slicker. Her eyes drifted shut as one hand came up to play with a nipple and the other drifted down to stroke her clit.
She shivered from the bare beginnings of ecstasy that ran from her nub to her tingling nips. “Ooh, it’s so nice. I almost wish you could touch me. But you can’t, not yet. Maybe later, if you’re good. Or if you’re not.” She flashed him a wicked smile and pumped her hips faster yet.
The blood was coursing over her belly in a nice flush all the way up to her breasts. He could see the way the nipples grew hard and thrust forward as she continued to tease and pull at them. Her eyes closed and her head fell back as she bounced on his cock, almost out of control. She rubbed her clit again and mewled. The soft sound ran along his nerves and he growled as he bucked in his restraints.
“Buffy.” The word was little more than a low rumble and she knew without opening her eyes that his features had altered again. His gasps and cries mingled with hers as they began racing each other. She leaned back and pulled his balls away from his body, squeezing her hand around them so he couldn’t cum and he cried out in dismay. He couldn’t believe she’d torment him like this. “For god’s sake! Buffy!”
“No, not yet.” she gasped. Her body alternately flexed and sagged as she drew close and retreated. Then he heard her scream as her cunt rippled and then clamped down on his cock.
She released his balls and he bellowed, caught helplessly in the riptide of his own climax, as he came in powerful spurts inside his mate.

TBC
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One Clear Shot