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Diluted
Truth
By
Tango
Disclaimer: All the
characters are based on the television shows, Buffy the Vampire Slayer and
Angel. Don't own them, get money for writing about them and have no
permission to write about them.
Rating: NC-17
Spoiler: Angel gets a
chance to change the past. (Warning: There is C/A but it's brief before we
move on to B/A.)
The Not So Objective
Note:
All right everyone,
it's on now! I have spent months trying to avoid and altogether repress the
thing that is happening between Cordelia and Angel but after seeing the
latest Angel, which by the way twisted my stomach, and after seeing TV
Guide's sneak previews (Thank you Paris!) of Angel & Cordelia's
upcoming connections, I feel like Joss should be staked! And David
Greenwalt should be dusted just for going along with it! I don't know about
you guys but not only am I tired of Buffy & Angel moving on to MUCH
less matching partners, but what's with the big dork Angel has turned into?
Where's the dark, sexy, taciturn character I remember so well? Pretty soon
I'm going to start thinking Riley is mysterious and sexy. Geez! Anyway,
thanks for letting me rant and onto the story....
All lyrics are from
Cake.
***
have a slice, but watch out - she ain't no good for
you.
Angel didn't really
have time to think about how it happened, how he ended up inside her,
pressing her against the lobby counter where any member of the
"family" could walk in and see them. She was leaning against the
outside curve, facing the glass doors, one long slender leg held at his hip
by a large, cold hand. With the other hand, he pulled the top of her low
cut shirt aside and leaned down to suck at her erect nipples as he pistoned
inside her.
"God,
Angel," she panted, moving back against him, her legs threatening to
buckle underneath her. Every muscle of his superhuman body was focused on
her pleasure as he reached under her skirt to pinch and rub her clit. He
stretched her to fit him, banging her forcefully against the counter. She
slammed into her second orgasm, spasming violently around his cock, falling
back against the counter, causing her legs to open wider for him. He pushed
her up, sliding her back across the smooth surface and pulling her legs to
his shoulders. Reaching between her toned legs, he ripped her shirt away at
the front, watching with pleasure as her ample breasts bounced free.
"Fuck," she
groaned through gritted teeth as he continued to force her into further
submission. He pinched her nipples roughly causing jolts of pleasure to
shoot through her body. Every cold touch was nearly as unbearable as the
next.
"I'm going
to..." he groaned. He wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled her
up to his lips as he moved inside her, kissing her passionately.
"I'm going to
die," she gasped as he abused her swollen clit once more.
"Come one more
time for me, Cordy," he whispered, nibbling on her nipples, sucking
them roughly into his mouth again. Her ragged groans came in bursts of
glorious pleasure as she neared climax.
Angel always thought
Cordy beautiful. Any man with the gift of sight could see that her big
brown eyes carried more soul than she would ever admit. Her smile was
arresting and made men feel like they had been blessed with a moment of
truth. Her tanned skin ran long and slim over her luscious, slender curves.
She was beautiful,
there was no way around it. The problem always was that every time she
opened her mouth, the picture went askew. He was always surprised how her
unapologetic, brash manner turned him off. Before. Now he wasn't sure how
much of the change was in him or her, but she didn't turn him off anymore.
At all.
Cordelia, on the other
hand, was never turned off by Angel and his "salty goodness." He
was tall, dark and delicious. He carried assurance in one hand and
sincerity in the other. The rest of him was dynamic, streamlined predator.
For a man that never made love, that couldn't without losing his soul, he
oozed sexuality. It was a downright crime...until tonight when he thrust
into her, breaking any bonds of resolution she might have had - which were
few. She finally understood just how Buffy couldn't resist this vampire.
Damn, she wanted him.
She couldn't count the number of times she thought about walking across the
hotel lobby, straddling his thighs and begging him to rip her clothes off
and take her right there. That was why she had squirmed in closer to him as
he kissed her for the first time. She didn't know that he could smell her
arousal, that he could sense her body heat rising, her blood pumping faster
for him. Her responses egged him on, making him ignite even more heat. Soon
he was reaching between her firm thighs, plunging into the wetness his
vampiric senses already smelled. Minutes later, he was sheathed inside her,
giving her the fuck of her life.
"Yessss,"
she hissed, clutching his back, digging her nails in to hold him. As they
came together, Cordy's ass left the counter and it took her a second to
realize that Angel hadn't lifted her - they were floating. But she wasn't
having a vision. She looked at Angel's face revert from ecstasy to despair.
He was having the vision.
***
he's haunted by something he cannot define.
bowel-shaking earthquakes of doubt and remorse,
assail him, impale him with monster-truck force. in his mind, he's still
driving, still making the grade.
she's hoping in time that her memories will fade.
From vampire to childe
and childe to sire, from the girl made demon by The Powers That Be to The
Slayer and back, from soul mate to soul mate...from those wishing it so,
came a strong vibrant light. Angel was stricken with visions of Buffy as he
released into Cordelia's hot depths.
Visions of what had
been ripped through Angel's mind. Flashing with violent urgency, he saw the
girl on the front steps of Hemry High, her red lips wrapped around a lolly
pop, being called to her fealty...the girl swinging down on the vampire
following her through the dark alley, pressing her foot on his chest...
God, the pain, the
fear that rushed in his mind from Buffy's right before she fought the
Master. So beautiful and vulnerable. He had forgotten that voice, that
stubborn determination that made him love her a little bit more. He focused
on the sensations, letting them wash over him...
Inside his mind's eye
he made love to her again, losing his soul all over again. He fell to the
floor, unsure where Cordy landed as the vision continued...
Sent to hell his
torment rode besides hers as her memories played through his brain...Her
dream of him, back from hell, human on a beach...
...How did you find
me here...If I was blind, I would see you...Stay with me...Forever. That's
the whole point. I'll never leave. Not even if you kill me...
Barrage of
memories...his return...her repeated attempts to leave him. He felt
overwhelming guilt rush through his body as he realized she had tried to
leave him numerous times and he wouldn't let her. Then he decided to go and
gave her no choice...
...He's leaving
me... I'm sorry. Must be horrible...I think horrible is still coming. Right
now, it's worse. Right now, I'm just trying to keep from dying...oh
Buffy...I can't breathe, Will. I feel like I can't breathe...
...Drink. Drink
Me...
...What's
that...What's what...you have a scar...Right, um... angry puppy...
conceiving a plot.
it quickens, it thickens. you can't put it down now.
it takes you, it shakes you, it makes you lose your thought.
He struggled to stand,
pulling his pants up as the vision continued. Somewhere in the background
he heard Cordelia's voice but he couldn't make out her words because Riley
was making love to Buffy...her sister was being created from green
energy...Riley was in the vampire nest, paying to be fed off of...Riley was
leaving her...Spike proclaiming his love...Joyce dying...Angel arriving at
the funeral...Dawn kidnapped...
...Death...Heaven...Earth...Spike...numbness...Making
love to Spike...nothing....emptiness....
He fell to the floor
as Buffy's orgasms with Spike flashed through his mind. She didn't feel
anything. His love was lost somewhere in the aether, somewhere in the
pain...
"Angel,"
Cordy yelled, hugging her tattered shirt to her chest, "Please say
something!"
"Oh God," he
said, falling into sobs on the marble floor, "Oh my God..."
***
you turn the screws, you tear down the bridge,
flimsy as it is, it's business like
After a few moments,
his sobbing ceased and he sat there staring at the lobby, sitting on the
cold floor. Cordelia stood over him, tugging on his arm, pleading with him
to get up, to speak to her.
"Angel!" she
yelled again, her hands on her hips, breasts flashing as the torn material
slipped aside. He looked up at her, his eyes dazed and tormented,
"What happened?"
"Vision," he
mumbled, pulling himself to his feet. There had to be a way to fix it, make
it better. Why would the Powers have revealed that to him if there wasn't a
solution? Obviously something had been missed along the way, a detail had
been lost and it caused her reality to tear a little in the wrong
direction.
"What did you
see?"
"I
saw...reality...what is...shouldn't have happened that way," he said,
his words spaced far apart but still seemed to run together.
"What shouldn't
have happened that way?"
"Buffy..."
Figures, she thought with irritation.
She was jerked out of her annoyed reverie when she heard him begin to walk
across the room buttoning his shirt as he went.
"Where are you
going?" she asked as he shrugged on his leather jacket.
"Sorry," he
said, opening the basement door and pausing a second to look at her,
"Something I gotta take care of."
He didn't tell her
that he wasn't actually even leaving the building. He wanted her to think
he was gone, so she wouldn't know what he was doing. He felt slightly
guilty as he set up the tools of the ritual. Cordy was going to be upset
with his choices. No time for regrets now.
The casting the spell,
he was soon standing in the dank hallway he had visited before. The air was
heavy, musty and dank like a flooded basement but the fire of the ones held
in suspension for their crimes was hot, pressing against his face, lapping
at his nerve endings.
***
yeah, somehow, i know, no, i won't forget you, no, no,
no, no, no, i won't.
you won't forget me, no, no, no, no, no, no
Angel woke in his bed
the next morning - well, afternoon - and felt as if he had been drugged.
The haze that filled his head was difficult to shake off. He sat up and
stared at the brick wall in front of him. Dreams were so strange as if...
Brick?
He vaulted from his
bed and looked around his apartment anxiously. That was no dream. He had
fallen asleep with Cordy's scent on his body and woke 8 hours later with
Buffy's scent permeating his senses. The Powers That Be were strange creatures.
When they explained the process last night, it almost made sense to his
frantic mind, but today he was sure that he wouldn't be able to explain it
fully. Looking around he understood. He had given up all that had occurred
for the last year and half to travel back to the day he folded time. In
order to save Buffy's life, he had to go back and try again. Repair what
had happened before. If Buffy never threw herself off of the tower, she
wouldn't have lost her lust for life when she was brought back to
life...and she wouldn't have to die again.
The Powers and their
muddled riddle-speak, somehow made clear to him that one objective was
imperative - that he save her from death a second time around. If that
could be avoided, she would save the world from the ultimate end of days.
He felt grief for the life of his son and an overwhelming emptiness entered
his soul. Darla would never be the mother of his child. Not now. His eyes
filled with tears which he quickly blinked away.
There was a chance.
The Powers said there was a chance for Connor. There was a chance for
Shanshu. There was a chance for Buffy. Everything was left to chance. The
only thing they would openly admit was that with this temporal fold,
history was changed forever. If Connor came into existence, Darla would not
be his mother. The only gift he was given for his eternal sacrifice was his
permanent soul.
"Angel," a
familiar voice wafted down the elevator shaft and Angel walked towards the
sound.
"Yeah?" he
answered, thinking of nothing else to say.
"There's a girl
upstairs who's almost sad enough to fall into my arms. Keep up the dark
cloud, maybe I'll get lucky."
"DOYLE!"
Angel said running over and pulling the half-demon Irishman into his arms.
"Wha's the matter
with you, man? I know you're all broken up from seeing Buffy but you've got
to pull yourself t'gether."
"Buffy just
left?" Angel said, grinning, pulling the sequence of time together in
his mind. There was more than a fighting chance to save Doyle.
"Okay,"
Doyle said backing up with his hands in the air, "You've gone insane,
right?"
"When was Buffy
here?" Angel demanded.
"Yesterday,"
Doyle announced.
"That's
fantastic," Angel said smiling and pulling on his coat.
"Where are you
going?" Doyle said, confusion covering his unshaven face.
"Need a
bomb," he answered, disappearing through the trap door in the floor.
When he hit the wet sewer floor, he broke into a glorified run. Everything
could be different this time. Everything could change. With his memories of
the past intact, anything was possible. There was a chance for everything.
***
when she walks, she swings her arms, instead of her
hips
when she talks she moves her mouth, instead of her lips
i've waited for her for so long, i've waited for her for so long
i've wondered if i could hang on, i've wondered if i could hang on
Standing in the
corner, unnoticed by anyone, Angel had a perfect vantage point of the dance
floor and the front door, eagerly awaiting her arrival. He couldn't stop
the broad grin that enameled his face. The building that housed The Scourge
exploded with a vibrancy that he had never remembered seeing before.
Football heads in flame created pure joy in his undead heart. The hybrid
demons were safely on the boat on their way to a new home, Doyle was on a
dinner date with Cordy and he was leaning in his favorite corner in The
Bronze waiting for Buffy.
He felt her coming
closer and looked urgently at the door, smelling her perfume as it wafted
in the door before her. He smelled the blood pumping wildly in her veins
and he knew she was adrenalized from her latest battle. The smell of her
excitement was irresistible but he kept his place in the corner just a
little longer to watch her. Her black leather pants hugged her narrow hips
and muscular thighs, barely touching the top of her silky red halter top.
She stopped and looked around the club, making a full circle, scanning the
crowd and finally turned toward the dance floor, leaving the sexy skin of
her bare back for him to admire. He watched her closely as she began to
dance, unaware of the hungry eyes of the men in the club noticing her,
unaware of his starving eyes taking in every detail of her.
His eyes drank her in,
famished for a second to touch her but not wanting to move from this
moment, not wanting to give up the pleasure of seeing her. He had this
dream million times, where he never feared for his soul - it was
permanently intact in his fantasy world, so he knew he would eventually be
able to walk over and touch her. It was completely unreal to him that it
wasn't a dream this time. He could walk over and touch her.
He leaned against the
wall and almost moaned from just the sight of his love, his mate moving in
perfect fluid motion to the music. He knew she was unaware of her beauty.
She emitted a siren of sex across the room and every single man - and some
not so single - looked to see her alone, provocatively moving her lithe
body to the music. Within minutes of her arrival on the dance floor, she
was encircled by men, trying to move closer and closer to her. Gently
moving away from them when they got too close, she continued her mating
dance, calling her man to her from across the room.
if she wants him more than she wants me, let this be.
she'll come back to me. she'll come back to me. she'll come back.
all day i wait and wait to hear her footsteps on my walkway.
she never came. she never even called.
she'll come back to me. she'll come back to me. she'll come back.
Her boyfriend answered
her call, wrapping his arms around her. Angel stood up straight and rigid
as he watched Riley move against her. His head pounded with anguish as he
watched her with him. He took several steps forward but stopped himself. He
watched her closely, transfixed on her face. She was attracted to him. She
liked him but she didn't love him. She didn't love him.
Buffy flowed into
Riley's arms on the dance floor, trying to lose herself in his arms but
this nagging sensation, this familiar reminder of the past kept tingling
beneath her skin.
Stop it, she chided herself silently,
snuggling into him. He was nice, sweet and kind. He accepted her
Slayerness, even if it was somewhat reluctant. Okay, yeah, he worked for
the military in a secret demon hunting venture, but he was human. He was a
decent, corn-fed boy who could make her happy.
She tried to focus on
positive thoughts but his touch was already frustrating. He hadn't even
made love to her yet and still he didn't linger where she needed him to and
passed over the areas she ached for him to touch. She always left him
hungering for what she wasn't given. He tenderized every moment, said what
she wanted to hear and tried to become what she wanted...what he would
never be. She knew she could lose herself in him. She could, if only those
feelings she needed to feel for him would manifest themselves. If only she
could transfer her ache for Angel into an ache for Riley.
Angel felt the sigh
escape his lips as he burned holes in her and her new boyfriend. His
vampiric hearing picked up the beep of Riley's beeper and watched as the
blonde boy toy disentangled himself from The Slayer and looked down at the
message. He excused himself, leaving her alone on the dance floor once
more. Angel felt the smile creep over his face and he began his approach.
He knew it was
probably a mistake but he moved in closely, weaving his hands under her
arms to pull her against him, his large fingers spanned against her tiny
abdomen. She inhaled him and moved silently with him in slow erotic circles
on the dance floor. For moments, they didn't meet eyes, they didn't think.
They just moved together.
"I've dreamed
this so many times," Buffy muttered with her head back against his
chest, "When my hands touch my body, I dream they're yours."
"They are,"
Angel whispered in her hair.
"Will it be you
when I turn around?" She whispered.
"Turn around,
love," he whispered. Slowly, she turned with her eyes closed. Her lids
fluttering open, she saw him with a tiny smile across his lips.
"Have you finally
come back to me? Or is this just a new kind of torture you cooked up just
for me?" Anger and hurt crept into her voice for the first time, old
pain rearing, tainted fears battling inside her.
"I never really
left," he said, "I could never really leave you, not in my heart,
not in my soul. I was wrong Buffy." Tears filled his eyes for all that
was lost to him and for all that could come back.
"I can't stop
when it comes to you," He whispered, knowing each syllable was the
truth, "I love you."
***
you tell me that you love me so, you tell me that you
care,
but when I need you, baby, baby, you're never there
Angel sat across the
couch, clad in his traditional black pants and shirt, unfazed by the
pounding beat of the house music. Buffy watched him from the opposite side,
looking over his sculpted features, his broad chest beneath his silk shirt,
his large hand resting on his muscle corded thigh. Those hands knew her
body more intimately from one night of passion than Riley would ever know
from a thousand.
"I don't..."
she started, inching across the couch, "I don't know what to do. How
can I be sure you won't leave again?"
"I won't,"
he said, "If you're still willing to give up the sunlight, then I'll
stay until you want it again."
"I don't care
about the sunlight. I never did."
Buffy watched the
smiled crawl over his body and she mirrored the movement, shuffling herself
across the couch and into his arms. Meeting his lips, she knew she didn't
care about the curse or children or the sunlight she never saw anyway.
Angel was home.
***
And I would be the one to hold you tight, kiss you so
hard,
I'll take your breath away, and after I wipe away the tears, just close
your eyes dear.
Riley hurried back to
The Bronze in the hopes that Buffy had stuck around. They quickly bagged
the HST that was spotted near campus and his night was free once more. He
couldn't wait to get back in her arms. He caught a glimpse of her walking
out of the front door of the club and quickened his gait only to halt a few
steps after. Connected to her arm was a large dark haired man.
He watched in awed
silence and frozen as she turned to look at him in a way that he couldn't
identify. It almost looked like...despair or helplessness. There was a
short interchange of words and then the man lowered his head and
passionately took over the mouth of his girlfriend. One of her hands rested
on his broad chest and the other threaded his hair, almost clinging to him.
The man was the one who broke the kiss and looked down at her, intensely taking
over her complete attention.
Riley watched from his
spot, unmoving, unable to move. The man raised his hand to her face and
brushed away...was she crying? She melted against him as he kissed her
again, spoke briefly and walked away. She went off in the opposite
direction.
Riley looked from one
to the other and back again. He followed the man.
***
some people they call me monster, some people they call
me saint
my talent feeds my darker side
Angel strolled towards
the mansion. Buffy would check in with Giles and Willow and then meet him
there. He moved along, feeling the promise of happiness rise up inside of
him. Soon he would be able to make love to her again. Then he knew
everything would click into place. He would understand how he should
proceed, what he should do about his affairs in LA and how to keep Buffy
safe from the darkness that threatened her. With his new found glimpse into
the future from his vision, he knew at least parts of what was coming to
threaten her. He had an advantage to saving her from the darkness that
meant to envelope her.
Lost in his thoughts,
he nearly collided with Spike. Angel felt the growl rumble through his
chest at the sight of his Grande Childe but he couldn't hear the sound
emitted over the raging inside his head. But Spike did...and so did Riley
from his vantage point in the bushes. The only thing Angel heard was the
screaming of Buffy's voice bouncing inside his head, her pants of passion
at Spike's claiming of her. He felt his face slip to his less friendly side
and the ridges on his face rose with his hackles as he looked upon his
Grande Childe.
"Spike," he
said, almost spitting out his name. Spike smiled casually through his
already elongated fangs, as he took a swig of the bottle of blood in his
right hand.
"Well,
well," Spike said after his swallow, "What are you doing back in
Sunnyhell, Peaches?"
Angel didn't answer
his question. All he could see was remnants of his vision, Spike's hands on
her body, moving inside his mate. He growled again, grasping for the reason
he knew he should embrace.
"Hey, mate,"
Spike said, backing up a step, "I know your panties are all in a bunch
over the torture thing, but you understand...it wasn't personal. Just
wanted my ring is all."
Angel looked at his
Childe's almost concerned face and almost started to laugh as the
realization hit him. This Spike hadn't made love to Buffy yet and now Angel
could stop it from ever happening. Riley hadn't made love to her yet
either. Finally, he did laugh and allowed his face to move back to his human
form.
"Guess you're
still not playing with a full sack," Spike said, moving away further
and looking over the hysterics that had taken over his Grande Sire.
"Damn
Spike," Angel said, "You're funny."
"Yeah, I'm a
bloody riot."
"Do yourself a
favor," Angel said, his face growing serious again, not to mention
dangerous as he glared at the blonde vampire, "Stay away from
Buffy."
"No worries
mate," Spike said, shaking his head, "I got the chip now. Can't
even hit the little bint."
"If I find you
anywhere near her, you will be a pile of dust at my feet, got
it...mate?"
"Yeah,
whatever," Spike said, pretending nonchalance, turning away and
walking towards his crypt. Something was up with the Poof, that was for
certain. He was fairly sure he didn't want to know what it was.
***
scratching at the bottom for another clue
Riley was thinking
much the same thing - something was definitely up. Except he did want to
know what it was. First of all the dark haired man knew Hostile 17. That
was the first strike against him. Befriending demons was not on the top of
the acceptable list in Riley's book, especially for someone who just
finished snuggling up to his girl.
Riley found himself
leaning forward to try and hear the interaction between the two, even as he
crouched in the bushes. They didn't seem to like each other much. He
watched closely and even crept forward a foot or two. He was straining so
intently on the low voices that when a loud feral growl erupted from the
dark haired man, Riley nearly fell over in the bushes. He moved to find a
better vantage point, so he could see their faces instead of Angel's broad
back.
Making his way slowly,
so he didn't alert them of his presence, he nearly gave himself away with a
gasp at seeing Angel's golden eyes, protruding fangs and ridged face. That
fiend had been kissing Buffy and she had looked at him like she was in
love. She had to know he was a vampire. She was The Slayer after all. But
she wouldn't have kissed him if she had known what he was, right?
Riley watched as
Hostile 17 backed away from the dark haired vampire, intimidated. The other
vamp kept walking and Riley moved to follow. He followed as closely as he
could without being detected, to an old abandoned mansion on Crawford Street.
Riley paused outside the doors, checked his weapons, took a deep breath and
went inside.
***
i don't want to wonder if this is a blunder
i don't want to worry whether we're gonna stay together ‘till we die
i want to love you madly, i want to love you now
i want to love you madly, way i want to love you, love you
love you madly
Buffy crept into the
mansion and felt a cold chill cover her body. The chill transformed into
fear and fear into desperation as she made her way inside. What if he
wasn't there? What if he changed his mind? What if she almost had him and
then he left again?
She took a brave
little step and that step was followed by another until she found herself
staring into the warm blaze of the fireplace. She stood in front of it,
soaking up its heat. If the fire was here, then Angel was. Is that the way
it always worked?
She turned and found
him leaning against the wall, taking her in his deep brown eyes. Strange to
be a being so beautiful, so full of happiness and sorrow all at once. She
waited for him to come to her and she stood with her back to the fire,
watching her lover lurking in the shadows. Finally, he stepped forward and
crossed the room in a wide, urgent gait. He pulled her into his arms and
crushed her to his dead chest, mesmerized by the pounding her heart against
him.
He released her after
several long minutes and looked into the eyes of the woman he loved. She
was there with all her fire, all her doubt, all her trust, all her feeling.
She was covered in raw intensity and just the waves of perfect emotion that
peeled off her skin caused enough joy to last him for months without it. He
soaked up the energy, rendering it from her skin, licking it away with his
eyes. He fumbled inside his head for words to explain the unexplainable. All
he could think of was that there was nothing dead about this girl.
There was nothing dead
about her.
"Angel," she
whispered, lost in the deep, brooding eyes of her demon lover. She always
said his name that way, as if all that ever needed to be said was buried in
that one desperate word. His name on her lips was the embodiment of all
that needed to be said. He said her name, understanding that the genesis
and exodus of what they were was somehow just as wrapped in their names as
their fealty.
He bent and touched
her lips with his, searing them with his own, plunging deeply into her
mouth, laying claim on what should have always been his. He pulled her in
tightly, too involved in the moment to wonder if he was hurting his pliable
warrior lover. He explored her mouth with urgency, crushing his fingers
into her narrow back, feeling her dig into him, clawing for a better hold.
They rammed proverbial horns, toping each other's urgency with more from
the other, battling for dominance.
Buffy, the stronger of
the two, pushed Angel's large form to the hard marble floor, attempting to
overpower him with her slight weight. Her blonde tresses cascaded over the
sides of her face and created a tunnel of fragrance as she pulled away and
looked into his eyes. His chest heaved with unnecessary breath, moving her
in shallow waves over him.
"You'll stay this
time," she said. A statement. A command. An order.
"Yes," he
answered. A promise. A vow. A threat.
Grinding her hips into
his arousal, she looked down at her hands, spread over his broad chest,
"You're mine. Forever."
"Yes," he
repeated, arching into the heat that radiated against his strained
erection. He looked up into her determined, defiant flashing green eyes. He
waited as her tense body, unmoving, stayed perched above his, letting her
claim on her mate sink slowly in. She drank him in, the smell of him, the
hazy arousal in his eyes, the feel of his large hands on her tiny hips. He
squeezed her hips and pushed her down harder on his arousal, signifying his
need. She didn't move but the arousal dripping inside her was screaming for
him to sate her. His nostrils flared as he inhaled her arousal and his mind
shut down at the memory of the honey waiting for him there.
He waited with the
patience of his eternal years for her to make the move to make love to him
but she was lost in his eyes, unable to move, unable to think. Tears filled
her angry eyes as she let the memories of his loss wash over her. Her
muscles held so tightly against him, her knees crushing into his hips, her
hands nearly cracking his sternum with the pressure she applied and her
whole body began to violently tremble. Time of loss and emotions too great
to express fought inside her mind as she looked at her lover. She knew that
if made love to him again, she would not be able to walk away again. She
knew that she could not lose the love of her life twice. She was trapped in
the balance between anger and awakening heat, so she stayed in her violated
anger, bruising him with her pain.
"Buffy," he
groaned in pleasure and pain as she bore down on him. She didn't move and
her expression didn't change. He waited a moment more, wondering if the
stamina of The Slayer could outlast his threshold for patience and pain. He
deserved any torture she could imagine. He knew it so he pulled her hips in
tighter against him, crunching his fingers into her curves, showing his
participation in the emotion.
"Buffy," he
repeated as tears escaped and fled down her flushed cheeks, "I love
you. I'm staying."
She tightened against him
and he was almost certain he heard his pelvis crack from the force of her
claim on him. Her hands curled against his chest, her fingers full of cold
muscle. Her mouth finally opened and through gritted teeth she swore,
"If you leave me again. I will kill you..."
Before she finished
her sentence, as the word "you" was making its wandering way past
her lips, he flipped her and she landed dully against the cold, hard floor.
With swiftly executed movements, he ripped her expensive leather pants from
her hot core, leaving her dripping opening for him to enter, which he did
without hesitation. Another step in the claiming of a mate, he slammed his
throbbing cock into her, while simultaneously ripping her halter away,
leaving the small bit of material a shattered memory on the floor across
the room. His hands found her warm, round breasts from memory, pinching her
erect nipples harshly as he moved against her.
Finding the rhythm of
his movements and moving to the carnal base of his convictions, her petite
hands wrenched his shirt from his chest. She smiled at the pitch of the
cloth shreding away, just as her trepidation collapsed into small fragments
in his arms. Wrapping her legs tightly around his waist, she fell into the
motion, rising to meet him, losing herself in her lover.
She panted as his
dexterous fingers found her inflamed clit. She culminated in seconds from
the urgent movements of his fingers. He watched with pleasure as her
breasts rose and fell with her release, her inner muscles convulsing around
him.
He moved closer to
her, his chest gliding softly against hers, creating unearthy friction
between their twisted bodies. His mouth found his mark on her and he sucked
gently at first, then harder, his blunt teeth gnawing at the scar tissue,
reminding her of his stake on her. She moved against him with greater
urgency, even more aroused by his cold sucking lips on her neck. She felt
as if she were breathing fire as she sank her teeth into his neck, tearing
at his flesh violently.
He felt his features
moving and reforming into the demon he hid inside him. He moved away from
her neck, pulling her away from his at the same him, turning his head away
from her, hiding his golden eyes from her gaze. He couldn't stop himself
from moving inside her however, melting from the intensity of her heat, he
burrowed himself inside her harder and harder. She reached up and
intertwined her fingers in his thick hair and pulled him with libidinous
brutality to her neck.
your naked body shimmers in the night. dancing and
chanting in a sacrificial rite.
"Buffy," he
groaned, her name erupting from his lips in savage roar.
"Take it,
Angel," she growled back, pivoting her hips against him as she forced
his sharp fangs closer to her scar.
"No," he
said, struggling away, the word savage and raw.
"Yes," she
said, twirling them, moving on top, smashing him brutally to the floor in
the process, his skin making a stinging slap as it hit the floor. She
flipped her hair to the side and pressed her neck to his mouth, "Drink."
Defeated, he bit in
and came with the ecstasy of the first drop of her powerful blood touching
his skin. She too found her release in the finality of the claiming and
screamed his name.
The last straw of
sanity left inside Riley Finn snapped with the sight of the vampire sinking
into her neck and the sound of her orgasmic scream. He yanked the stun gun
from his belt and rushed the lovers, mixing a strong electric volt in with
the aftershock of their joining.
***
reluctantly crouched at the starting line
Angel pried his eyes
open and saw nothing but whiteness. He sat up urgently and looked around
his cell. He was clothed except for his bare chest and he remembered that
Buffy had ripped his shirt away. He placed both palms against the glass,
attempting to get a bead on his captors and a high voltage shock traveled
through his body. He took a step back and tried to shake the daze from his
head.
"You're
awake," a voice said and Angel looked up to meet the glare of his
beloved's beau.
"Where's
Buffy?" Angel asked in response to Riley's statement.
"In
containment."
"What the hell is
that supposed to mean? You have her locked in a cell somewhere?"
"Yes," he
answered, his blue eyes made of ice, "She has to be quarantined until
we are assured that you did not turn her."
"What?!"
Angel shouted, unable to believe his ears, "Of course I didn't turn
her."
"She bit
you," he said simply. Angel groaned audibly. Amateur.
"She didn't feed
off me," Angel said, trying to remain calm.
"That remains to
be seen," Riley said.
"Let her
go," Angel commanded, keeping his anger in check.
"I'm sorry, but
you're not in a position to be giving orders."
"You're lucky I'm
not," Angel growled, "I want to see her."
"That's not
possible," Riley said simply, "I don't think I'll ever let you see
her again."
"This isn't about
quarantine," Angel retorted, "This about jealousy."
"I'm not jealous
of you, vampire," Riley said, turning away, "You're control over
her is not real emotion and we both know it. She'll come around when she's
been separated from you for a little while."
***
i can't believe it's true. i can't believe that you
don't want me anymore.
you're with him, and you don't even know that I've been dying all day long.
"Let me out of
here," Buffy said, her words daggers slicing through his skin.
"You're being
quarantined until we can ascertain whether or not the vampire turned
you," Riley said, trying to keep his voice even and impartial.
"Riley,"
Buffy said, anger coursing through each syllable, "He didn't turn me.
I didn't feed off him, now let me out of here."
"I'm sorry,"
he stated in a cold military manner, "It's against regulation."
"What did you do
with Angel?"
"He's in a
containment cell."
"What are you
going to do with him?"
"Well, as of
right now, attempts to drug him have failed. Our doctors are waiting to
implant a chip but if they are unable to do so, then he will be
terminated."
"No!" Buffy
screamed, pressing against the electrified glass. She stepped back from the
shock and then stepped back in.
"Take me to
him," Buffy said softly.
"No," he
answered. She touched the glass again and felt the shockwaves of pain
crunch inside her. She held herself against the voltage until Riley was
screaming for her to step away.
"Take me to
him," she said through chattering teeth.
"Buffy, it's
going to kill you!"
she's got a serrated edge
"Then let me
out," she screamed in a stutter. Riley stood frozen as her beautiful
limbs shook violently from the voltage. In a panic, he slid his card
through the panel and pressed the button for the glass to slide away. Buffy
fell forward into the hall and landed face first on the white tile. Riley
rushed to her side and pulled her to her feet, unnerved by the unnaturally
warm feel of her skin.
Still twitching, Buffy
slammed the heel of her hand into Riley's throat, knocking him back
gasping. She yanked his badge from him and ran, shouting Angel's name.
"Buffy!"
Angel answered in the opposite direction and Buffy pivoted, running toward
the sound of his voice.
***
i had a match, but she had a lighter. i had a flame,
but she had a fire.
i was bright, but she was much brighter. i was high, but she was the sky,
oh, baby, i was bound
Angel was making
everyone dizzy with his pacing. Giles, Willow, Xander and Anya sat in the
long row of multicolored chairs watching the vampire wear away the tiles on
the hospital floor.
"What's taking so
long?" Angel muttered, his frustration not missed by the Scoobies.
"Well, they have
to do tests," Willow offered weakly, "...and stuff."
"Can't they just
come out and tell us that's she's okay?" Angel offered, stopping for a
second in his course to look over at the befuddled friends of The Slayer.
"Well, generally
speaking-" Giles began but stopped his sentence when Riley entered the
hall.
"What are you
doing here?" Angel growled, looking over the boy.
"Checking in on
my girlfriend," Riley said. His voice was hoarse and a large black
bruise was forming on his neck from Buffy's attack.
"She's not
yours," Angel said, taking a step toward the blonde soldier.
"Riley,"
Giles said, standing and clearing his throat, "Perhaps you ought to
wait at home. I will have Buffy contact you when she is cognizant."
"I'm not
leaving," he said, digging his heels in, "Not while that vampire
is here. He leaves."
"Okay,"
Xander said, joining Giles' side, "Not that I want to take Dead Boy's
side or anything, but we trust him a little more than we trust you...God, I
can't believe I just admitted that."
"You trust him -
that bloodsucker more than me?" Riley shouted in disbelief.
"Do try to quiet
down Riley," Giles said in his most fatherly voice, sneaking a glance
at Angel who stood rigid but looked fairly calm, "We are in a hospital
and we don't wish to cause...a disturbance."
"Not all demons
are evil," Anya said, standing and then abruptly reseating herself.
"Angel's
good," Willow added, "He has a soul."
"A soul?"
Riley asked, his brow ruffled in confusion.
"Excuse me,"
the resident physician said, stepping in the hall, double doors swinging
behind him.
"Yes," Giles
said, stepping forward.
"Are you a
relative of Buffy Summers?"
"Um...yes,"
Giles stated hesitantly, "Her mother is on a business trip. I am
her...guardian."
Giles tried to appear
forthright and stately, which he always did. He was mostly telling the
truth anyway. Her mother was in fact on a business trip, buying art for the
gallery and he was a guardian, of sorts, for The Slayer.
"I would like to
speak to you in private then Mr..."
"Giles," he
said extending his hand, "Rupert Giles."
The doctor ushered
Giles into the next hallway and spoke softly, seeing the tall, dark haired
man inch closer, straining to eavesdrop on the conversation.
"Mr. Giles,"
the doctor said, "Buffy Summers is a very lucky girl. She should have
suffered much greater harm from such a high electrical shock."
"She's okay,
then?"
"Yes," the
doctor said softly, "the girl and her child appear to be in perfect
health."
"Child?"
***
i need your arms around me, i need to feel your touch,
i need your understanding, i need your love, so much
Giles came out with
his face masked in confusion. Buffy was pregnant? The whole crew was
standing in wait, anxious to hear Buffy's prognosis. He looked from Angel
to Riley and back again, unsure of how to proceed.
"Well?"
Xander said, after they all milked the silence long enough, "Is she
okay or not?"
"Y-yes,"
Giles said, "I'm going in to see her now. The doctor says that she
will be just fine. I just wanted to inform you before I went in to see
her."
Angel took a step
forward and started to speak but Giles turned quickly on his heel toward
Buffy's room. He couldn't allow Angel to ask any questions.
"Buffy,"
Giles said, as Buffy's eyes fluttered open.
"Giles," she
said, moaning, "I got Angel out, right? He's okay?"
"Yes," Giles
answered with a smile, "He's outside in the hall waiting to see
you."
"What's wrong
Giles? You have something-else-is-wrong face."
"The doctor said
that you're...you're pregnant Buffy."
"What?" she
said, coming fully alert and sitting up in bed.
"You're
pregnant."
"But I don't
understand."
"What is there to
understand? You're with child," Giles said, looking at her intently.
"Giles," she
said with a sigh, "Not that I want to discuss my sex life with you but
I haven't slept with Riley. The only other person I've slept with besides
Angel was Parker and that was months ago."
"When did you
sleep with Angel?" Giles asked, squirming uncomfortably in his chair,
"And what about the curse?"
"We had sex
tonight for the first time since he lost his soul," Buffy answered,
"And there isn't a curse anymore courtesy of The Powers That Be...I
think I need to talk to Angel."
***
there's no single explanation, there's no central
destination
"Hell no,"
Riley shouted, "That vampire is not going into Buffy's room
alone."
"Buffy requested
to see Angel alone," Giles answered.
"I don't
care," Riley said, looking like a child about to stomp his foot in
protest. Angel pivoted and headed for Buffy's room unwilling to participate
in the argument. He heard Riley's footsteps falling in behind him but he
continued toward her room.
"Hey baby,"
he whispered as he sat on the edge of her bed and pulled her into his arms.
He ignored Riley's presence at the doorway, waiting to pounce.
"Angel," she
said, her eyes full of unfallen tears.
"What's
wrong?"
"I-I'm
pregnant," she said, choking her words out as her tears began to fall.
Riley stood rigid against the door frame as Angel's gaze snapped to him and
back to Buffy.
"Oh God," he
whispered. There's no way it could be his. They had just had sex. The
thought that her child wasn't Connor tore at his permanent soul.
"Angel..."
she said, gripping his coat, "It doesn't make any sense."
"What do you
mean?" He asked, controlling his overwhelming urge to kill the blonde
military boy who was undoubtably the father of her child.
"I never slept
with Riley, Angel," she said, "I haven't slept with anyone since
Parker."
Angel stared at her in
confusion. Parker must have been the jerk who hurt her when Spike came to
LA. That was months ago. The only person she had sex with was...him. Light
dawned in his eyes and a slow smile crossed his face. The Day That Wasn't.
"What?"
Buffy asked, looking into his smile, "What?"
"It's mine,"
he answered, his smile dipping into a grin.
"What?"
***
i'm waiting for these memories to begin
The story was long and
winding. The Day That Wasn't, the years that weren't. Angel carefully
picked through the memories and the staggering visions, choosing carefully
what he shared with her. He tried to be brief but for a taciturn vampire,
he found details he had wanted to keep hidden pouring out of his mouth.
Buffy watched as her
lover struggled to share his feelings in ways he had never done before and
was crucified in his pain. His grisly description of her death years in the
future was almost more than she could bare. Not because she died but
because the pain that precipitated out of him was tangible in its cruelty.
She found herself curling into his lap, pressing against him and reminding
him of her vivid life.
"Shhh," she
whispered, "It's okay. I'm alive." She pulled his hand to her
stomach and reminded him of the life growing inside her.
Connor, she thought
smiling. Angel's son. Her son. Their gift from The Powers. She kissed Angel
gently and cuddled against him. Such a greater gift than death.
now today is tomorrow and tomorrow today and yesterday
is weaving in and out
The End.
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