Negotiating Buffy Style
Wesley goes to Buffy for help when they lose Angel's soul, at the exact same time the Scoobies kick her out.Disclaimer:
BtVS and AtS belong to Joss Whedon.Pairings:
Re-posting this story. It's been edited, and hopefully reads better.Author's Note:
Faith escaped from the Bringers and prison, and headed to Sunnydale hoping to help Buffy. No Beastmaster, Jasmine, or Cordelia as a higher being. Angel started to call Cordelia, but Connor kidnapped him first. Conner and Cordelia got close over the summer after she received visions about Angelus. Everything else is up for grabs; this is an alternate universe, just my way of fixing everything I think Joss screwed up.
I wanted to dedicate this to Lex's Revionist History Series. It got me thinking about what I would do if I decided to go back and fix all the things that pissed me off, well without rewriting everything, cuz, I frankly don't have that much time.
Here are the things that suspended my belief in Joss' versions. Why would Wesley go and get Faith, who tortured him, instead of Buffy? Of all the apocalypses, hell gods and other nasties, wouldn't you think that the Scoobies and AI team would've called each other from time to time? I mean, come on, they are barely two hours away. Not to mention when they were running for their lives from Glory; well, you get the picture.
Wesley sped down the highway, hoping that he could persuade Buffy to help. Even though the calls they'd placed before had gone unanswered, he had to believe that the threat of Angelus would be enough. The further away from LA he drove, the better he felt about his decision. His doubts, Cordelia's incessant harping, faded away and he knew he was doing what was necessary.
Angelus paced the confines of the cage. He stretched, bending his leg at the knee then snapping it out in a precise and deadly kick. A wicked smile graced his beautiful face. Dark chocolate eyes surveyed every inch that surrounded him, not only the cage that held him hostage, but the stairs exactly six feet away, leading to a door, and freedom, in addition to the second exit fifteen feet to his left, heading to the sewers.
The Scourge of Europe stalked like the predator he was, a natural grace exhibited in every move. Where Angel tried to blend in and hide his differences, Angelus reveled in them. The doubts, angst and cloud of somberness that followed Angel like a shroud couldn't touch Angelus. He wouldn't allow it. He had lain locked away and subdued. That damned soul had forced him to submit to the degradations his so-called friends had forced on Angel. The thought of his souled counterpart trying to behave as if they were human was laughable. They were once the most feared being in all Europe, but most of all, no matter what his souled half might desire, they were, and always would be - a vampire to their very core. Oh, he knew about the reward the Powers had offered Angel for good behavior - Shanshu. The demon was smarter than that; he didn't believe the lies they had told Soul Boy. The lies he had so readily believed. No, he recognized the truth, and if he got his way; they would pay dearly for what they had done to him…to them.
Buffy walked down the deserted street wondering what, the hell, just happened. She knew the others didn't trust her the same way they used to, but she never saw this coming. The scene kept playing over and over in her mind. She couldn't stop seeing the look in Dawn's eyes when she told her to leave her house.
Ever since coming back, she had felt a step out of time with everyone else. It was like she could perceive something no one else could, and regardless of what she did or said, they wouldn't believe her. It took her awhile to understand it, which led to her spiral downward and the affair with Spike. But, she pulled herself up and out, no thanks to her friends; in fact it was during the entire Darth Willow episode that the largest pieces started falling into place. Bit by bit, the pieces kept fitting together until she could clearly see her enemy and recognize what she was fighting. She even knew how to fight them, but no one would listen to her. Buffy understood that was the First's plan - beneath you it devours.
Her head came up when bright lights hit her in the face. She raised a hand to shield her eyes, wondering who could be coming to the deserted town at this hour. A shudder ran down her spine; somehow, she already knew what this concerned. She denied it, even to herself, the pulling at her soul, the deep tear that told her that Angel was gone and Angelus was free again. It happened when she was fighting Caleb, she had lost her bearings, and she knew that she needed to fight, to get the others out, but her body froze. It had pulled her into two different directions, and people ended up hurt or killed because of it.
Buffy knew better than to bring up her ex-lover, he was a sore subject with the Scoobies. It only used to be Xander, who would grouch about Angel. Now Giles, Willow, even Dawn, never missed a chance to express their disapproval. They blamed Angel for her death, Adam's rise to Power, Dracula's bite, hell, the price of gas if they thought about it. The golden haired Slayer shook her head to bring her back to the issue at hand.
The car slowed to stop beside her and she peered in at the driver. She recognized the man behind the wheel. It was Wesley, though a very different one than the one she had known. To say the changes in Wesley Wyndham-Pryce didn't surprise her would be an understatement. The stubble on his cheeks, dark clothing aside, one expected a person's taste in clothes to change over the years; no the eyes told the tale. His blue eyes showed the trials, the journey and the final exit to the other side, which created the man behind the wheel. This Wesley had confronted his fears and won. The battles fought took their toll, removing the blinders from his eyes, leaving him somewhat jaded, but battle-ready.
"I need your help."
He didn't beg or plead, just opened the car door, and waited for her answer. The statement settled between the former Watcher and Slayer. She looked back toward the ones who abandoned her; hazel eyes returned to stare at the one she rejected years ago. The decision came in a flash. It didn't matter what or why, it only mattered that she understood this was it; where her path was leading her all along. Without the others harping on their doubts, anger and needs, she could listen to her inner voice. Buffy opened the back door and threw in her bag, before climbing into the passenger seat.
"Drive, you can explain why Angelus decided it was time for another visit, on the way."
She got comfortable, leaned her head back, closed her eyes, and with a deep sigh prepared to listen.
Wesley took off leaving tire tracks as the only clue of the direction the Slayer had gone. He couldn't stop from glancing over at the woman, who had replaced the teenager, previously under his care. The bloom of childhood had melted away, leaving behind a beautiful woman. The cut on her cheek and the weariness marring her brow couldn't detract from that.
"You can start with the talking part anytime."
He explained everything, working his way backward, from losing Angel's soul, his part in Connor's kidnapping, Connor's birth and conception, his arrival in LA, his joining AI, and what he knew of the year preceding his arrival. The car remained quiet for the rest of the drive; he couldn't tell if Buffy was sleeping, sulking, or angry. Her face showed no emotion, other than an occasional fluttering of her lashes.
She was all three, but not for the reasons one might think. The puzzle she was trying to figure out suddenly got bigger. She had stepped back long enough to realize someone or something was playing with them - her and Angel. There were too many coincidences, too many convenient Big Bads, all the same flavor, and at the same time.
No wonder Angel never came when they left messages for him, it was another thing that always bugged her. How come she never got to talk to him? She knew Angel was nearby. It wasn’t as if she called at night, when he was otherwise occupied. Every time she got up enough nerve, or the Hellmouth was about to bubble over, she had swallowed her pride and called, and every time she got the machine or…Cordelia.
Closing her eyes, Buffy watched their lives fold together then fan out like a deck of cards. She saw the day Angel took back. She returned from the grave, holding that knowledge in her heart, and much more. It had only taken the right trigger to unlock Pandora's Box. It’s funny how life turned things inside out.
Who knew Angelus was the key, or any key to anything in my life?
She tried to control the anger rushing forward, but too late the car stopped. Angelus was about to feel the full fury of a mature woman/Slayer. If he expected to play with some wide-eyed naive little girl, he was in for a rude awakening.
Wesley started to talk, stopping when his passenger shook her blonde head. Large hazel eyes inspected him, he wondered if this time, like the last, she would find him wanting.
"Do you trust me?"
"Buffy, there isn't time for this. The situation is dire. It is only a matter of time before Angelus finds a way to escape."
He started to open the door, when a small, powerful hand held him in place.
"There's only time for this. Do you trust me? Yes, or no?"
The simple answer filled the space between them.
"Good, remember that when we're in there, no matter what you see or hear.”
Her tone changed to a husky whisper, and he couldn’t contain the slight shiver that raced down his back.
"Wesley, you're going to have to hold onto what you know about me, Buffy, not Slayers or Watchers, or even Angel. I don't have time to explain, so either stand beside me until this is done, or stay here, out of my way."
Without another word, the former Watcher quietly opened the car door, slid out, and waited for her. Buffy joined him, mentally squaring her shoulders. Glancing down, she smiled to see that she wore her red leather pants. When she grabbed her clothes before leaving, she had changed into them to give herself a boost, along with a tiny black tee that had 'Bite Me' emblazoned in red across the front. Buffy wasn't certain why she saved this outfit, but it fit her mood, and her purposes.
Closing her eyes, taking a deep breath, and allowing her body to relax, Buffy walked into the Hyperion like she owned the place. Slender hips rolled with a predatory grace, letting everyone see that here lay danger wrapped in a pretty package.
"Wow," Connor said, staring at the woman in the doorway. He didn't know they came like that.
Gunn turned to see what had the boy drooling, and found himself not doing much better. He straightened up, going for a cool street fighter look when he saw Wesley joining the petite blonde. Fred couldn't decide where to look or what question to ask. Cordelia had no such problem.
"What, the hell, are you doing here?”
Her smooth brow creased with anger, matched by the harsh lines that appeared beside her mouth. Cordelia’s hand went to her hips, which weren’t as slender as they were in high school. She wasn’t by any means fat, but her body had become lush. It would turn to fat in her later years if she didn’t take care. Buffy took all these changes in with a quick glance, as she cataloged the room’s other inhabitants.
“Wesley, please don't tell me that you phoned her. We so don't need Buffy Summers' help. All she does is cause Angel pain. You can just turn around and go right back to good ole Sunnyhell where you belong.”
The bleached blonde seer crossed her arms over her ample chest, waiting for Buffy to crumble under the full impact of her disapproval. Buffy sauntered by, causing the men's heads to turn as they followed the sway of those slender, leather encased hips. An Angelus-like smirk graced full pink lips, which opened to feign a yawn.
"Oh, so you've found Angel's soul?"
Hazel eyes pinned them down, holding them in place, unable to move. No one knew how to answer her.
Fred stammered out, "N-n-no."
"Angelus told you how to fight the Rocky Horror Picture Show? Who its master is? Why it's here? Anything useful at all?"
They shook their heads in unison, unable to speak between the rocket fire questions.
"Didn't think so. Now, get out of my way."
Cordelia grabbed Buffy's arm, applying pressure with her enhanced demon strength, such as it was. A delicate blonde brow rose, while hazel eyes darkened to a stormy gray.
"If you want to keep your paw, pull it back, or you'll draw back a stub."
The threat came out soft and low. No one overheard it but the two women and Connor. He moved to help Cordelia, stopping at Buffy's next words.
"Down sugar, don't make mommy spank."
Hearing her words caused the others faces to fall into masks of confusion.
"What's it going to be, Cordy?"
"He won't talk to you, Buffy. Angel doesn't want you in his life, and neither will Angelus.”
She yanked her hand away in a huff. Not wanting to lose face, Cordelia called out to Buffy's retreating back.
"He's moved on, Buffy. Angel's moved on."
The blonde Slayer didn't miss the hurt in Conner's large blue eyes.
"Keep telling yourself that CC. I'm sure it helps you sleep at night."
Without ever having been there, Buffy walked directly to the basement door, and disappeared.
Lorne cleared his throat. His red eyes still glued to the door Buffy went through.
"Can I just say, hubba hubba, with a whole pan of Meow."
He turned back to glue himself in front of the remained glued to closed-circuit screen to watch the drama unfold downstairs. He dared to wave off Cordelia, who was drawing in a deep breath to expound on the badness that followed Buffy Summers, aka, the Slayer, aka, the love of Angel's life.
Angelus' perfectly sculpted nose rose into the air. His nostrils flared as the most tantalizing scent wafted its way down the steps directly to him. It embraced him like a welcome home after being gone too long. A smile changed his face from handsome to a thing of beauty, something to which bards would dedicate poems and songs to and they had, right before he drank them dry, discarding their husks on the fruit of their labors. Tit for tat, their labors for his, true poetry, the very picture of irony, a masterpiece worthy of a Master - vampire.
Before he could speak, Buffy attacked, not with fist, feet, or steel. She withdrew a finely honed blade, one that had earned its edge after seven years of battle.
She grinned when the vampire actually pouted.
"Sorry to steal your line, lover; well, you know what, I'm not. That line needs to be ditched."
Come on, Angelus; play with me.
"I figured it out, you know.” She paused waiting for him to respond. She suppressed the urge to pout, then pressed on with her carefully placed barbs. You can't remember who you're screwing, so you just call everyone lover.” She pressed her lips into a moue of distaste. “Doesn't say much for your memory does it, Pops? Must be hell getting old, and CRS setting in. Can vampires get Alzheimer's?” Buffy gave him the once over like she was searching for grey in his dark locks.
Angelus snapped. The idea that this, this harridan in a Buffy-suit would even question his manhood told him more than enough about this world's wrongness.
What's the matter, Buff, someone take a swat at you and miss the sweet spot?"
His dark eyes drank in the changes in her. He admired the sleek, toned body, delicate cheekbones no longer hidden by the last vestiges of childhood and the fire in her eyes.
Oh, yes, this was a woman, a worthy adversary and mate, not like that diva upstairs that everyone kowtowed to because 'ooh' she got visions.
Buffy leaned against the bench, watching the gorgeous animal alive within her ex-lover's skin. Say what you will, Angelus was a feast for the eyes. He knew his body was gorgeous and used it like a weapon. Too bad Angel refused to wear leather pants, those long legs and high tight butt surrounded by black leather was the perfect yum.
Back to business, bad Buffy.
Someone, and he bet it was weasely Wesley went for his girl. Now, he needed to understand what was happening in her world and compare it to his.
"Who played McBad the Slime Vamp and took a bite out of you, Buff?"
A bubble of laughter almost escaped at the picture that brought to mind.
"Does it matter? Why'd you do it, Angelus? Why'd you give it all away, our life, our child, everything, for what?”
The question hit him like a ton of bricks. He snarled at her, slamming his hands against the bars.
"Don't come in here crying to me about that damned day. I've lived with soul-boy lamenting about that until I was ready to pull my fangs out. Why are you blaming me? I didn't turn back the day. Hell, I wouldn't have left you, let alone the bed for days.”
His voice dropped to an intimate whisper as lust illuminated chocolate colored eyes.
"Oh, really, thought I needed to learn a lot about pleasing a man. Sure want to thank you for that one, lover," sarcasm dripped from her lips. She moved closer, her hands wandered up to cup her breasts, while she looked up at him through her lashes.
Angelus watched her, captivated by the woman who passed from tiger to sex kitten in the blink of an eye. "You know I didn't mean it.”
His hand stretched through the bars to glide up her arm, then on toward her neck, until he cradled her head.
"Let me show you.”
Their lips met through the bars, each reaching for something only the other could give.
The AI team observed wide-eyed and slack-jawed. Angelus taunted them with closely kept secrets, belittled their every weakness and magnified each flaw. The once close group was barely speaking to each other, except for Cordelia and Connor. The two together was almost enough to reunite the rest of the team. No one understood what was going on between the strange couple, and the supposed father and son triangle.
Cordelia couldn't believe Buffy's nerve. Angel would get his soul back, and remember that she - Cordelia Chase, was the one who took care of him all these years. Connor wasn't happy with her, in fact, he threatened to tell everyone, Buffy included, that they were secretly seeing each other and were more than just friends.
"Ooh, look, he's kissing her.” Fred's eyes held a dreamy glow. "He never kissed you like that Cordy. That's like Kyrumption and Moira. Oh, my gosh, that's..."
A high-pitched squeal emitted from the willowy brunette.
"Fred, what's your damage? I thought you said Angel and I have Kyrumption. She waltzes in to suck face with Angel's evil twin, and they're what? Meant to be?"
"K'lisraqdin," Lorne sighed, ignoring the others as he watched a legend unfold.
"I knew it. It's, it really is."
Fred did a weird little dance, before racing back over to Lorne's side.
"Do you think they know?"
The former Pylean, and current servant to the Powers shivered.
"Heaven help us all if they don't."
Buffy didn't allow Angelus the upper hand, or lip as the case may be. They dueled for dominance, retreating, and chasing each other's tongues, sweeping in to taste the treasure hidden within. Her small body lay against the bars, aligned with the large one striving to reach her. Nimble fingers plucked at the dress shirt buttons that hid the alabaster skin from touch and sight. She pushed the offending article away from her target. Her eyes closed, her tongue dueled with his. Small hands crept up the washboard stomach to the pectorals that had fascinated her even at sixteen.
Angelus groaned deep in his throat. At that moment, he was close to nirvana, he needed a bed and to get rid of these damn bars. Buffy swiped her tongue across his fang. She offered it up to him. Angelus latched on, suckling softly, milking the treat until no more blood flowed.
"Do you want me?"
Hazel eyes leveled him with a glance that told him this was no the time to bluff.
"Enough to live with Angel, if I promised you equal time?"
Cordelia started running for the door, with Connor trying to stop her. He wasn't sure who this woman was or what she was doing, but his gut told him to trust her.
Wesley stood in front of the basement door. His blue eyes glacial as he faced off against the seer.
"You're not part of whatever's going on down there, Cordelia. I'm not going to allow you to interrupt."
"Allow me, allow me?”
Cordelia's hands immediately went to her hips. Her eyes narrowed, and she thrust her chest out, not to bring attention to her chest, but to show her outrage.
"Just who do you think that you are, Wesley? Move out of my way, before I show you what Angel taught me,” she growled at him.
Her toe tapped in unbridled anger as she waited for him to comply with her demands. Everyone bowed to her wishes, and she expected nothing less this time.
He didn't move an inch, leaning back on the door in a relaxed stance. Wesley stared at the woman who he thought had changed from a spoiled rich girl, and wondered why he had allowed her to bully them for years.
"Cordelia, my dear, don't you ever get tired of your own posturing? I know that I do. The one thing I didn't miss in my time away from AI was you incessant demands for everyone to jump when you barked. Do be a good girl and run along."
Wesley waved a hand at her like he was fanning a fly.
"Do you want to stay here with me?" Buffy whispered against his neck, before biting his earlobe hard enough to draw blood. She sucked the tender flesh into her mouth.
His eyes rolled up, his lids grew heavy and he strained to be free from confinement. Amber eyes blazed brightly when he heard metal scrapping. A soft smile created an angelic mask. Once crafted by the devil himself.
Buffy withdrew to open the cage door. She stood there watching him, the same vampire who had made her life a living hell. Torn between wanting to beat the crap out of him, and tearing his clothes off before screwing him to death, err deader, whatever, and not necessarily in that order.
Okay Buffy, enough, time to straighten this crap out.
"Answer the question.”
She waited in the only available exit.
"Of course I want you, look at me," he snarled, exhibiting the evidence.
"Not just my body and blood - me."
Buffy's fist thumped against her chest. This was it, the showdown; a power struggle between two stubborn, proud and dominant people. Who would win - one, both, or none? Angelus knew what happened with Angel and his crew. The question was did he care - nope. No, he didn't care about them, except Connor; the boy was family whether he desired it or not.
"What's different, Buff? Why should I trust you to let me out of here? You know I won't toe-the-line. I don't play that game, not even for you, lover."
He slowly moved closer to Buffy and the open door, the two things he wanted most. Long elegant fingers stroked down a strong, slender arm. They searched out each muscle, bone and tendon, learning it through touch sensory, memorizing it. Hazel eyes that had once sparkled with life and laughter filled with a fire that pulled him in, whether to warm or burn him was his decision. He tried to grab her and move them out the cage door.
She mentally rolled her eyes, knowing the Master vampire required the big showdown, before getting down to business. Her hands shot straight out and into his chest, propelling him across the close quarters into the wall.
Waving a finger at him, she taunted, "Naughty boy, I'm going to have to show you it's not nice to piss," she hauled him up from the ground, "me," throwing him out the open gate and walked out after him, "off."
Angelus sprang into a ready stance, but Buffy didn't fight like he remembered. She had four years of fighting cyborgs, hell gods, demons, army squads, and Spike under her belt. She jumped straight at him, twisting her body mid-flight to strike his legs, which buckled taking him to the cold cement floor.
"You want to fight dirty, lass."
The brogue rich in his voice, and the light of battle clear behind his eyes. Large hands clutched her when he rolled, pulling her along for the ride.
"Is there another way to win?"
She chuckled, flipping herself up to stand on her feet. He promptly swept her feet out from under her.
She smiled, the first real one she'd given him since she arrived.
"There she is, there's my girl. I knew you were hiding her somewhere."
The tiny blonde cracked her neck without answering the blustering vampire stalking her with blood dripping from a cut above his eye. He complained about scars spoiling his looks.
"Ya big baby," she groused. "It's hardly a scratch."
"Scratch! Scratch, she says. I think I need stitches. I hope they won't scar. I don't want one like, Spike, too tacky."
He never missed a step when she threw a punch at his head or her him when he tried to turn the tables on her and lock her inside the cage. When it was all said and done, they were none the worse for wear, so to speak. Now, they were ready to sit down, and as he grumbled, gum to death their problems.
The two exhausted fighters leaned against each other, breathing heavily, although for one it was all show. Buffy shoved Angelus' head off her shoulder, turning around to face him. She couldn't resist pushing the normally immaculate hair a little more out of place. They shared a conspiratorial smile, knowing they were enjoying poking fun at Angel, each in their own way.
"How did you know what was going on, and Angel didn't?"
She had an idea, but wanted him to explain it.
"I've always known what was happening. The only time he listened to me and did what needed doing was when they abandoned him," he growled, thumbing a finger at the TV screen.
They kept their voices low so the others couldn't hear them from upstairs, where they were no doubt watching their every move.
"Did you understand it's the only way to get him back?"
Buffy found herself playing with Angelus' fingers while they spoke. The entire day, night, whatever, was so existential already. Why not? She felt comfortable, and safe, lying here next to the vampire half of her lover. She liked the way he told you what he thought, he didn't lie, because the truth was so much more fun. He was proud of who and what he was, and she found herself for the first time that she could recall in exactly the same position. She was 'the Slayer', not Faith or those wannabes, not Wonder Wicca Willow, or her sidekick Scrappy-doo Xander, not even Dawn, the one with her blood running through her veins. Nope, her, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, the original, the one girl given the strength, and damn it no one was taking it away from her.
"That, and I wanted to fuck."
The words rolled off his tongue like a sinful treat. Angelus leaned down to lick the shell of her ear. He teased it with soft puffs, licks or nips interchangeably.
"While we banged away at Darla, the memories returned. The way you felt, both times, you filled our minds, while she tried to steal his soul. It was only right that we found our own purpose for evil's tool. Angel was too busy with his big epiphany to see 'his' return, but I did. I always see what's happening. How or why someone's able to keep Angel from seeing is beyond me."
The entire time he talked, his hands had walked their way down her torso to the top of her red leather pants. Buffy found herself pulled underneath an amorous vampire. Closing her eyes, she relished the feel of him. She would never forget how Angel's body felt. Her hands skimmed over his thighs, squeezing the taught muscles beneath.
She knew they had badness coming at them from every direction and there wasn't time for this. She also knew she was a Slayer, not a saint. Part of her belonged to this creature as much as it did Angel.
Unfortunately, Angel never understand that in his black and white world. He saw her as some mythical creature of light, not understanding the darkness inside every Slayer. Angelus understood. He just wanted to throw away the light and have her live in the dark with him.
Talented fingers dove into the pants, finding the Slayer's hidden treasures. Buffy flipped them over, her hands reached down to pull off his dress shirt.
Leaning down, she whispered in his ear, "Is there only one camera?"
Angelus nodded, nipping at her ear.
"Which do you desire more, me or getting out of here?"
She pulled a stake from some hidden place on her body.
He eyed her and the stake warily, before he answered, "You. I can escape any time I please, my beautiful Slayer. But, to have you willing in my arms is an offer not to be ignored."
"Not a great answer. Truthful, though. You're many things, Angelus. Liar's not one of them. I like that - duck."
A strong arm shot out. Screams and shouts echoed throughout the Hyperion, followed by breaking glass.
Lorne smacked the small black and white TV, when it dawned on him what happened.
"Well, damn, that's no fun. It was just getting to the good part," he pouted.
Large hands came up to caress her. Buffy arched her back, enjoying the way those hands perfectly fit her body. The small tee suddenly disappeared joining his much larger shirt. She leaned forward to entrap his mouth again, savoring the taste and texture. She kissed him hungrily, aggressively, taking. They moaned in unison, while deep hunger started to build.
Angelus stood in one of those single liquid moves that highlighted his supernatural strength and grace. He bore her to the wall, pressing her body against its hard surface. Taking her hands, he held them high above her head, before bending down to gently drag a fang across tender skin.
A gasp of pleasure escaped her lips, while she pressed him closer to her overheated. Her legs came up of their own accord to wrap around his body, latching on never wanting to let him go.
"Want you," she whimpered, as her head rolled back and forth against the wall.
He stepped back, allowing her legs to fall to the ground. He kissed his way down her torso, although unable to resist an occasional nip, which he happily licked or sucked any blood that arose. Angelus stripped away the remaining clothes, before she could even blink. Not a passive lover by any means, his clothes did the magic disappearing trick too.
Standing there in all their naked glory, they allowed the time to admire the beauty laid bare before them. Hands moved of their own violation, skimming over peaks and valleys, relearning favorite memories, but memories faded to become dreamlike, and the need to assure this was reality had to be satisfied. They came together like the clashing titans that they were.
Dark chocolate eyes became hooded at the extreme pleasure that raced through his body. He had tried to hate her, hate her for what she stood for, the woman always shown through despite what she was, even when she was still more child than woman.
Watching her, knowing he was the one causing her heart to race. It was the closest his demon had ever come to that emotion known as love. He loved her with every emotion available to him, passion, anger, possession, jealousy, dominance, and many more. They weren't tender romantic feelings, but they were feelings just the same.
They were ready to fall over the edge, each wanting it, each needing it, needing to let the other know that they considered this a pact, a mark in the sand, which could never be undone. Gracefully flipping long golden hair to expose her slender neck, the thick vein where her pulse throbbed with live-giving blood, Slayer blood. Hazel eyes soft with passion caught and held dark brown ones slightly tinged with amber.
Angelus couldn't believe what she was offering him that she trusted him, truly trusted him and would bond to him willingly in this way. His beautiful face slowly changed into his demon, moving slowly, giving her, every opportunity to change her mind, he bent his head, and carefully slid his fangs into the fragile neck, fitting them over the bite given all those years ago.
Closing his eyes as the liquid nirvana slipped down his throat, it tasted of power, pure power. Buffy wasn't the first Slayer that Angelus had ever fed from, but none had ever tasted like this before. Unable to think any longer, their bodies threw them over the precipice, he carefully removed his fangs before sinking to the floor and carrying her with him.
Buffy lay cradled on Angelus' lap, her ear pressed to his still heart.
"Do you know about the crazy bat lady where lost things end up?"
The question though garbled made some strange sense to him.
"Dinza, yeah, I know her. She's crazier than a loon. What about her?"
She drew intricate circles on his chest, while she thought things over in her mind.
"If I wanted to hide something, and keep it where Angel's Fang Gang couldn't get to it, I'd give it to someone in charge of lost things, someone who would keep it in a place where they couldn't go. She fits the bill in my book."
He crooked his neck to look at the tiny woman sprawled comfortably on top of him. Her body was still rosy from their lovemaking, and she was talking about the location of Soul Boy's soul.
Grabbing her hair and pulling her head back so that she had to stare into his amber lit eyes, he asked in a quiet voice. "Was that what this was about? All this so I'd help you get him back?” His fangs flashed as spoke.
"Reign it back, big boy; I don't need to screw anyone to go after Angel's soul. I can go see Ditzoid myself. I just wanted you to understand that I needed both of you. Angel never could get that. I was hoping that you were smarter than him. Guess I was wrong."
She had started to stand up, when he stopped her by wrapping his arms around her. He searched her face for some hidden agenda, and couldn't find one. She had told the truth. He couldn't allow his face to reveal it, the idea that this glorious creature could need him, Angelus, as much as she wanted Angel sent pleasure rushing through his body.
"Explain to me how this could work."
She gave him a brilliant smile and a resounding smack on the lips.
"You understand about the Slayer spirit, right?”
Angelus nodded, waiting for her to continue.
"Well, I got a chance to get up close and personal with it, not only it, but the head honchos that stuffed the genie in the bottle. They tried a whole repeat performance."
A roar rumbled up when he heard that. She rubbed his chest to comfort him, letting him know that she was okay.
"It didn't take me over like they wanted, I stopped it before anything happened. Some did get in when I screamed, and it kinda shook things up."
Buffy stood up ignoring her nudity. She shook her hands out at her side like they tingled after falling asleep. He drank in the picture before him. She reminded him of a tawny mountain lion, sleek muscles playing under golden skin, blond hair flying back as she stalked the cage's confines, her eyes sparkling with the heat of passion spent and battles yet to fight.
Yes, he thought, this woman is worth fighting for.
She raked a hand through the long golden hair, brushing it away from her face. Frustration clearly written on her pretty features as she struggled to find the words needed to explain what she and had somehow uncovered.
“The Slayer's power is based in darkness, but her soul's based in light. A Slayer's taught to put others first, and never ever to take human life. Don't you see, Angelus, we're exactly the same. I had to learn to accept the Slayer part, my darkness, to be a whole person. If you and Angel do the same thing, you both win, you both get to be here with me."
Thinking through what she said, he saw the one major flaw - Angel.
"Soul Boy won't go for it."
She gave him a sultry smile, walking back over to him with a cat that ate the canary look on her face.
"How do you think he'll feel when he learns the truth? Everything? How the Powers have played us to keep us apart. They even used you when they set you up to kill Jenny. It goes back that far Angelus, all the way back to the beginning. I shouldn't have come back. Up there you see everything, your life, the lives of everyone you know, and the truth, only the truth, when they brought me back, I brought that truth back with me."
Tears streamed down her face, the pain she felt remembering everything again tore at her heart. Angelus' gathered her into his arms.
"Shush, it's okay. What do you want me to do?"
Picking her up, he sat back down on the floor, rocking her until the tears stopped. He licked them off her face, savoring their taste, before capturing her lips in a searing kiss.
Once she caught her breath and got her emotions back under control, Buffy continued.
"I want it back, Angelus, everything they took, and more. The Powers could've stepped in, but they only help if it looks like they are in danger of losing us - the chosen warriors. We're little more than chattel to them. As long as one of us is still around, to keep on kicking, they left us to drown. Once Connor was born, they didn't watch over us anymore. They thought he was all they needed for the End of Days. They didn't see Sahjhan, Lilah, or Holtz coming, even when Wesley tried to figure out what to do and asked for help, they sat on their Asses. The Powers wanted Connor to end up in Quor-Toth; he would be stronger, older and ready for the final battle. You see the bad guys, no offense, honey, are winning. The Powers screwed up and don't know how to fix it. That's why they allowed Willow to tear me out of Heaven."
He absentmindedly played with her hair while he listened to her.
"How do you plan to stop them? I mean I can take out the Beast, but he's just a pawn. Can you believe that's the best they could come up with for a name?”
Angelus rolled his eyes at her, and Buffy bit back her laughter.
"Come on, like the Master or the Judge was so much better. Frankly, I like my naming convention better - Punch Mouth, Big Blue, and Rocky Horror.” She shrugged. "If you give the bad guys a big important name they might think they're tough stuff. I'm ready to blow this joint; what about you, lover?"
She let the last word roll off her tongue, before jumping up, grabbing her clothes and laughing at Angelus' face when he recalled her comments about his nickname. The chase was on; he swept his clothes up in one hand, while grabbing for her with the other. She pulled her shirt over her head, one leg slipped into the red leather pants as she hopped, trying to wiggle into them, while heading for the sewer exit.