Là et Ailleurs

Author: Yseult

TIMELINE: This is an AU fic set during the days and weeks following "Becoming II".
SUMMARY: Truth lies elsewhere.
AUTHOR'S NOTE (1): I wanted to explore a world where Buffy did not send Angel to Hell. It's not a pretty place. This story refers to events of season 2 (BtVS). The title translates as "There and Elsewhere".
THANKS TO: Sharon and Dana who read endless drafts, Sofia for her astute comments, and Janet who rolled her eyes in all the right places. Ladies, it's been quite the journey.
DATE OF COMPLETION: 24 May 2003
DISCLAIMER: Maybe in my next life? Lyrics are from Enigma's "Mea Culpa". Translated by me.

*

PART I
Je n'ai plus rien. / I have nothing left.

He found her in the LA bus terminal. She was sitting on a hard plastic orange chair, a duffel bag between her feet, blonde hair hidden by the hood of her jacket. She sipped idly from a large McDonald's cup and stared at nothing. As he watched, she surreptitiously removed a stake from one of the many pockets in her overalls and slid it into her sleeve. Her eyes swept to the left, to the right, and finally locked on his. She didn't move or speak. There was no sign that she knew who he was (or who he had been) except for the patina of tears in her eyes.

He approached her slowly, lowered his bag to the floor, and, wincing, crouched before her. He scrutinized her face. Her eyes were old. There was no vitality in them. I did this. There were no words to tell her what he felt or why he was there, so he said nothing. They stared at each other until someone jostled him, and the gaze was broken.

He stood, picked up his bag, and waited for her to do the same. She inspected her shoes while she made her decision. LA equalled anonymity; that's why she had chosen the city as her haven. Beyond leaving Sunnydale that morning and forgetting her life as the Slayer, Buffy had not given any thought about how she would exist. Angel's appearance reminded her that she had nothing except $47.73 in her pocket. Her mother had disowned her. Her father was "unavailable". She was estranged from her friends and Watcher by circumstance and choice. She was alone.

Buffy followed Angel out of the building.

They did not speak as he led her through a maze of alleys and streets. Angel searched for a safe and anonymous place to rest. It was late in the night before he settled on one of the "better" ones that catered to demons and humans.

The desk clerk openly leered at Buffy as Angel requested a room. "D'ya wanna single?" it pandered. Angel thought about this. With the exception of the passionate kisses and embrace at the mansion, they had not really been with each other since the James and Grace experience. Better make it two beds. "Ain't she kinda young?" The sweating purple demon had greasy brown fur. It scratched its belly through the misbuttoned shirt. "Looks like a virgin, too," the clerk continued with a sneer. Angel studied Buffy. She looks broken. "If yer willin' t' share, I'll let ya have the room fer half price. She a screamer?" The demon licked its distended lips in anticipation. That got Angel's attention. He reached across the counter, grabbed a fistful of grimy shirt, and easily hoisted the clerk.

"We'll take a double room. At no cost. Now." Angel threatened. Then he smirked through his fangs in case there was any doubt about the sincerity of the warning. The clerk vigorously nodded its head in agreement.

Angel released the trembling demon who scrambled to find some room keys. "Sure, no problem, mister. Whatever ya want," it babbled, dropping keys on the counter. "Room 28. Ya just need t' fill out…" Its voice died away as Angel glared. The demon backpedalled. "Know what? Yer fine."

Angel handed one key to Buffy. She turned it over wordlessly before stuffing it into a pocket. She followed him into the hallway and down the stairs to the room. He put the key in the lock and opened the door. He stepped aside to let her in. She brushed silently past him and placed her bag on one of the beds. Angel entered and closed the door behind him. He turned the deadbolt and slid the chain into its holder. As he rested his forehead against the door, he could hear the blood pulsing through her body. If I turn around, what will I see?

"Are you hungry? I can get some food." Something creaked. He pivoted and faced her. She sat cross-legged on the bed with her hands folded in her lap. She was staring into the mirror that reflected the room but not him.

"No. I'm fine." She took a steadying breath. "Really. I just want a shower. And then maybe some sleep." Angel shrugged out of his coat and placed it over the back of a chair. The movement forced a grimace across his face and a hiss past his lips. She heard it and turned her attention to him. "You should probably eat though. Can you… Is there someplace where you…" Her voice dissipated into the uneasy silence.

"Yeah," Angel answered as he moved towards her. Buffy scooted to the head of the bed. She's afraid. Of me? He backed away. "Why don't you take that shower while I'm gone." She nodded and watched him leave.

What she wanted was a blistering hot shower to melt the pain in her soul. She turned the tap on full, but all she could feel was tepid water. At least the bathroom was clean. Buffy massaged the soap with numb fingers. The lather spilled over her hands as she washed the horrible day off her skin. She stood mutely under the sputtering spray until the water turned cold. Like him. She turned the shower off and drew back the curtain. A soft knock on the door startled her.

"It's me. I'm back." Angel's deep voice was muffled. Yes. You are.

"I'll be out in a minute," she called. She had brought her clothes into the bathroom. She slipped on her panties and then her pajamas, a tank top with shorts. She towel-dried her hair and peered into the mirror. She didn't look like the Slayer. She looked like a seventeen-year-old girl. That's all I ever was.

Angel had not intended to be half-dressed when she exited the bathroom. He froze when he heard her surprised "Oh!" He was trying to clean the wound so it would heal faster. It was painful and awkward. Buffy tossed her dirty clothes on the floor and stepped silently to his side. She took the antiseptic and cotton balls from his hands and gently cleansed the wound. Wordlessly, she pressed a dressing over it and wrapped the gauze around his waist. She stood so close that her hair tickled his chin and brushed against his bare chest.

"Buffy." Angel tried to catch her hand in his but she stepped back and turned away.

"I'm really tired." Buffy addressed the wall. "I'm going to sleep." She slipped into her bed and turned off the bedside light. She lay on her back, hands laced together over her stomach, eyes closed.

You can't hide forever, Buffy. Angel picked up the bloodied cotton balls and took them into the bathroom with his toothbrush and a towel. He washed his face, stripped, and sponged off the rest of his body. He redressed in a pair of cotton drawstring pants and t-shirt. When he opened the door, he was greeted with darkness. Buffy's rhythmic breathing reached his ears.

He paused briefly at her bedside. "Good night, Buffy," he whispered. He climbed into his small bed and drew the flimsy sheets over his body. Sleep tight.

*

PART II
Je ne dors plus. / I no longer sleep.

The first weeks were the worst. Buffy could barely look at Angel without seeing Acathla's gaping jaw behind him. Her nightmares were repetitive and relentless. The vortex opening as Angel's soul re-entered his body. A final kiss and murmured vows of love. Buffy thrusting the sword into his body. Buffy would wake screaming his name and pleading for forgiveness. That first night, the longest night, Angel did not sleep. Instead he sat by her bed and waited for her to wake. She would mumble, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" in an endless mantra, but she never cried. Eventually she would push him away and sink back into her nightmare. The cycle would begin again.

When day finally broke, a bleary-eyed Buffy watched Angel nod off in the chair. "You need to sleep, Angel." He had grudgingly agreed.

She had grabbed a quick shower and was brushing her hair when she heard his cries. Buffy ran into the room. He was thrashing in his sleep, tears raining down his cheeks, repeating "No. No. No. No. No." Angel's dreams were more horrific than Buffy's. His mind replayed every sight, sound, smell, and taste of Giles' torture, Jenny's death, and the others he had killed in his latest Angelus stint. When Buffy had touched his shoulder to awaken him, Angel had jerked upright and stared at her in horror. "What did I do? What did I do to you?" The guilt he felt when he looked at her was unlike anything he had felt since he was first cursed. He had pulled away and fallen to the floor, dry sobs tearing at his body.

They revisited these two scenes every day and night for twenty-three days. In between, Buffy trudged from one diner to another in search of paid work. Most places would only pay her under the table and less than minimum wage. The hours were long, and the clientele and management were unsavoury. At one job, the one that lasted 6 hours and paid $6.75/hr, her boss had pinned her against the walk-in freezer and fondled her breasts. Angel had suddenly appeared and pulled the man off before punching him in the nose. The belligerent owner had immediately fired Buffy and threatened to bring assault charges against Angel. She had grabbed the vampire's hand and pulled him out into the shaded alley behind the diner.

That day they had their first argument since before her seventeenth birthday. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" screamed Buffy. "DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I NEEDED THAT JOB?" She shoved him into a patch of sunlight.

Angel rolled quickly into a shadow. Steam rose from his sleeves as he stood. "WHAT AM I DOING? WHAT ABOUT YOU? He had his hands all over you. Were you gonna stop him anytime soon?" Angel's eyes flashed yellow in the shade. At the edge of her vision, Buffy saw the demonic visage ripple beneath his skin.

"It's not anything that hasn't already happened, Angel. It goes with the job." She said it tiredly and without thinking how he would take this information.

"WWWWWHHHHHHHHAAAAAAATTTTTTT!" he roared. Suddenly she was slammed against the wall by an angry vampire snarling in her face.

"Angel, let go! You're hurting me." Buffy struggled in his grip but it didn't lessen. "ANGEL! ANGEL!" It was pointless. Angel had disappeared. She relaxed her body. Her limbs hung loosely as she was suspended in air. "Angel," she said quietly. "Put me down. Please."

Angel's eyes retreated from demonic yellow to dark chocolate brown. His facial ridges smoothed; his fangs retracted. He tentatively lowered her to the ground and loosened his hold. He stroked her upper arms where the skin was already bruising, but he did not step away. When he felt as if he could speak calmly, he leaned his forehead against hers and said painfully, "Why? Why did you let him?"

Buffy closed her eyes and for a few seconds breathed in his scent. "There aren't a lot of jobs I can do, Angel. I can wash dishes or wait tables. Maybe clean rooms. It's not a lot of money, but…"

"Buffy, you don't have to do this," he begged. "Please don't do this. You don't have to take that." He pressed his lips to her hair and inhaled her generic shampoo.

She opened her eyes and sighed in frustration. "Not if you keep beating the crap out of anyone who tries to."

Angel smirked. "Guess I did hit him kind of hard."

Buffy gave him a brief smile. "I think you broke his nose."

They stood in the alley, foreheads pressed together. It had been so long since they had really touched. "Angel?"

"Hmm?" His hands traveled up her arms and rested on her shoulders; his thumbs caressed the bare skin of her collarbone.

"You're about to be dust in the wind." She lifted her eyebrows to indicate the creeping sunlight.

He glanced over his shoulder and saw the threatening light. "I should—"

"Go," she finished. "I need to return the uniform and get my things." She turned to go into the diner and was stopped by the pressure of Angel's hand gently squeezing her arm.

"If he tries anything," he warned.

"I won't let him, Angel. I promise." She watched him follow the shadows before she returned to the restaurant to collect her six hours worth of wages.

It was past sunset, a few days later, when she unlocked the door to their latest home. In the unlit room she could see Angel sprawled on his bed. He didn't stir as she entered. Buffy glanced at the clock and looked worriedly at the vampire. She had waited over an hour. When he didn't appear, she had come back on her own. Guess he overslept. She sat on her bed then bent to unlace her shoes. Her hand brushed something wet. She didn't remember leaving any wet towels this morning. The room was usually tidy; her mother would be amazed. She picked up the item and realized it was Angel's shirt. She sniffed it. Blood. Oh god. What happened? She turned on the light and hurried to Angel's bed. Her mouth gaped as she saw the flayed skin on his arms and back.

Buffy tried to roll him over but he was too heavy. His skin felt cold and clammy beneath her hands. He was much colder than he should have been. She debated the pros and cons of waking him and decided to let him sleep. She gathered up his clothes and hers and tossed them in the laundry bag. Then she scribbled a note telling him where she would be and tucked it in the mirror's edge. Vampires healed quickly. Like Slayers. He would probably be fine by tomorrow.

Angel woke to the annoying sound of a laugh track. He rolled onto his back and groaned.

"You awake?" Buffy's voice floated above the noise from the television.

Angel rubbed his eyes. "That depends. What are my other choices?" he grumbled.

"There's dead. But you already are," she shot back. "How about more dead?"

"More dead?" I'm a vampire. How much more dead can I be?

"Yeah. The dusty version kind." She twirled a Tootsie pop in her fingers as she channel surfed.

"Oh." Angel sat up and groaned louder. The sky was light. It was day. "Shouldn't you be at work?" He hung his aching head between his propped knees.

"I quit," she replied nonchalantly and turned off the TV. "Yesterday." She waited for him to process the remark. When he quickly raised his head, she flashed a smile. "Good morning," she said brightly.

"You quit yesterday? Buffy, it was your first day. Did something happen?" Angel thought back to the day he'd punched her boss. His eyes appraised her. She looked cheerful. Too cheerful. "Buffy, what did you do?" he asked suspiciously.

"Nothing. And it was my second day." She softened her voice. "Today is Wednesday. You were asleep when I got back Monday evening. When you didn't wake up, I got worried. So I stayed. Angel, what happened?" Concern blossomed on her face. "You had blood all over your clothes. I washed them. I think I shrunk some of your stuff though. Sorry," she added guiltily. "Do you want some blood? You didn't have any left so I got some from the butcher." Buffy's babbling masked her fear. Angel's chest was marked with bright red welts. The wound in his abdomen had reopened. She had cleaned him up but she had never seen him so badly beaten.

Angel tried to recall the last 36 hours. He remembered the fight and being outnumbered. The Krevach demons had not killed him, just whipped him repeatedly and left him where the sun would find him. He had crawled back to the motel and collapsed on the bed. Some dark vague memory still tugged at him. He closed his eyes and forced his mind to the hidden space. He remembered drinking something warm and sweet and coppery. His eyes flew open and bored into Buffy. She squirmed under his scrutiny and tugged on the sleeves of his shrunken shirt. In a blur he knelt before her and pushed the left sleeve up. Her skin was unblemished. He checked her right arm and saw two puncture marks on the inside of her wrist.

"What did you do?" Angel whispered hoarsely. But he already knew. He dropped her arm and retreated until he bumped into the door. He closed his eyes and turned away.

"Angel, you were hurt so badly, you needed blood to heal. And, um, I didn't know where to get any. I mean, do you just walk into a butcher's shop and ask for a quart of blood? And okay, well, I guess you do because I did that. But I didn't know to do that then. I didn't know what to do. It was worse than when Spike tried to fix Drusilla. Angel, please, I didn't know what else to do." Buffy's torrent of words was worse than silence. She placed one hand on his back. Angel jerked away as if he had been branded.

"Don't." He snapped.

"Don't what?" Buffy asked in a torn voice. "Don't help you?"

"Go away, Buffy. Just…" Angel steeled his voice. "Leave and don't come back. Ever."

"You're throwing me out? You've got some nerve." She thumped his back in frustration. "If you're in such a hurry to get rid of me, you leave!"

Angel spun around in game face. "Fine," he snarled. He flung the door open and prepared to step into the sunlight.

"You'd really leave?" Buffy's small frightened voice stopped him.

Angel's gold-tipped gaze raked her body hungrily. "Yes." He could hear the blood rushing beneath her skin.

Buffy ran into the daylight.

She returned late that night. Angel wasn't there. She took her duffel bag out of the closet and began to fill it with clothes. She went into the bathroom for her toothpaste, toothbrush, and shampoo. When she emerged, Angel was sitting on the bed beside the almost full bag. He looked haunted. Buffy leaned against the doorframe and waited for him to speak.

"I am a vampire," Angel stated flatly.

"With a soul," she amended

"But still a vampire. We survive on, live for blood. It's who we are, what we do. Rat's blood is the worst. It's bitter. The hair catches in our teeth. Pig or chicken's blood is slightly better. Not a lot of fun chasing down pigs or chickens. There's no finesse in the hunt. Human blood is better. It has this bright red sheen that reflects its coppery taste. It slides down our throats. It's the triumphant finale to the hunt."

Angel paused and closed his eyes. His face became rapturous. "Then there's the blood of a Slayer," he whispered. "Slayer blood is the elixir of life, the sweetest of ambrosias. It is perfection. It is magical. It is mythical. Once a vampire tastes Slayer blood, no other blood will satisfy." He fixed her with a defiant glare. "Ever."

The silence stretched between them before he glanced at the duffel bag. "Do you need money?"

Buffy shook her head to indicate no. "Angel, I don't want to go."

"Okay. I'll go."

"I don't want you to go, either."

Angel released an exasperated sigh. "Buffy, one of us has to leave. I can't be around you."

"Why not?"

"Why not? Buffy, did you hear what I just said?"

"Yes," she whispered, "and I would do it again if I had to. If you needed it. Angel, I love you. There is nothing I wouldn't do for you." He didn't protest or disagree. She interpreted that as a positive sign. "It's not like you're a serial killer. I trust you. As long as, you know, you don't get happy." Buffy mumbled the last word.

"Trust me, there's no chance that's happening any time soon."

"Oh." That wasn't the response she'd expected. "Well, as long as that's not a problem." She paused. "Does that mean you'll stay?"

It took another thirty minutes of coaxing before Angel confirmed Buffy's suspicions. He had the vampiric equivalent of insomnia. Buffy's snide comment about vampires and stress did nothing to assuage his guilt. Angel had been ambushed because he was exhausted.

Buffy guessed why he wasn't sleeping. He was staying awake through the nights because of her nightmares. During the day, he was watching her. Angel was averaging maybe two hours of sleep every twenty-four hours. Normally, he would have been able to handle that. This was not normality.

"You don't need to watch over me, Angel. I can take care of myself," she repeated in case he hadn't heard her the first five times.

"Buffy, that's not even a question. I just…"

"You just what?"

"I worry about you. And I know I don't have any right," he added, forestalling her objections. "But I do."

*

PART III
Je te désire. / I long for you.

Different day. Different job. Buffy really liked her new job. The restaurant was nice and she was able to start immediately. She worked the late afternoon/evening shift. That meant Angel could sleep during the day.

They had argued late into the night and neither had slept until dawn. Her head ached and she had dark circles under her eyes. But she was here, and Angel was meeting her at the end of her shift. She checked her appearance in a mirror. God, I look ghastly. Skinny, pale, bony cheeks. I could almost pass as a vampire.

She chatted with the other waitresses while she waited for Angel. They invited her to a dance club to celebrate her first day.

"Hey, Anne, I think your boyfriend's here. And if not, my boyfriend's here." Shirley's eyes ran appraisingly over Angel's trim body. Boyfriend? Buffy looked up and saw Angel casually standing in the restaurant's entrance. He's certainly boyfriend material. "Where'd you find him?" At the entrance of Hell. "Don't suppose he's got a twin brother?" As a matter of fact, yes. Name's Angelus. "Anne? Are you in there?"

Buffy snapped out of her reverie. "I'm kinda tired. First day and everything. Maybe another time. Good night." She walked up to Angel. "Hey."

"Hey. You sure you don't want to go with them?"

Buffy glanced back at Shirley and the others. She missed dancing. Five weeks ago she was dancing at the Bronze with Willow. Two weeks ago… Two weeks ago I nearly sent Angel to Hell. A tall gawky man slid an arm around one of the girls and licked the outer shell of her ear before he swallowed her lips in a ravishing kiss. Angel used to kiss me like that. She watched the man slide his hand down the girl's back and cup her buttocks as he deepened the kiss. Buffy realized she was staring. She abruptly turned away and collided with Angel.

"Let's go," she snapped and pushed past him.

Angel watched her march away. Buffy was obviously upset about something. He tried to think what it might be. She had seemed happy to see him. For a brief moment, she had actually seen him and not looked through him. What had changed?

Last night's argument had been about money. Buffy only had what she earned; Angel had plenty of money to spare. They didn't need to live the way they were living. And that, apparently, was the problem. Buffy refused any monetary support from him. She hadn't used the term "blood money", but the implication was there. This time she had threatened to leave. Angel thought she was too young to waste her life in dead end jobs. Buffy had made a scathing comment about "living with the dead, so what the hell difference does it make?" The argument had gone back and forth until the early hours of the morning.

Their arguments always left him drained. They never really made up. They just retreated to separate corners. In this case, Buffy had locked herself in the bathroom, and Angel had escaped into the night and the merciless pounding of a thieving Arach demon. When he returned just before dawn, she was asleep. Or so he thought until she whispered "Good night".

Buffy stopped in front of a store window filled with overpriced dresses and shoes. Angel stood silently beside her.

"That looks likes something Cordelia would wear. Although I like the shoes."

He squinted at the price tag. "Buffy, those shoes cost almost $200!"

"Yes, they do, don't they?" she replied dreamily. She sighed before moving away from the window.

Angel lengthened his stride to catch her. "How was your first day?" he inquired.

"Fine. It's a nice place to work." She absently peered into the shop windows as they walked.

"You sure everything's fine?" Angel knew she was avoiding something but he couldn't guess what it was. Buffy stopped and faced him.

"Angel, I'm fine. Don't I seem fine?" He was about to answer when Buffy cut him off. "Know what? I don't want to know." She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I know I'm cranky. I think… I think I'm just tired and feeling bleah."

"And late," added Angel.

"I'm what?"

"You're late."

"I'm late for what?"

Angel actually managed to look embarrassed. "Your um your monthly cycle. It's late." This was another conversation he didn't want to have.

Buffy opened and closed her mouth in shock. "And you know this how?"

"Vampire, remember? Highly developed sense of smell."

"Too bad it didn't come with a highly developed sense of tact."

This wasn't going right. "You're not pregnant," he offered helpfully.

Buffy spun away from him. "Oh this just gets better and better." She paced a three-foot line. "Do I want to know how you know I'm not pregnant?"

"Well," Angel realized that he was trapped. There was no right answer here. "Vampires can't have children." He managed not to look at her.

"What makes you think there hasn't been anyone else?" The words erupted from Buffy's mouth before she could stop them. She watched the pain dance across his face before his features hardened.

"Angelus would have killed him," the vampire spat coldly before he swept past her.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Buffy chased Angel for two blocks before she caught him. "Angel, stop. Wait. I'm sorry." She pulled on his arm. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "Please. Angel. I am sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"You're the one that wanted me to stay," Angel said harshly. "Why do you keep pushing me away?"

I'm afraid. "I don't know. I don't want to fight with you. It seems like that's all we do." Buffy placed her hand on his cheek until he relaxed his clenched jaw. "Truce?"

Angel closed his eyes and savoured her touch. What he wanted to do was wrap both arms around her and never let go. He opened his eyes and turned his face to kiss her palm. "We don't need a truce, Buffy, we need to trust each other."

"I do trust you." Angel raised his eyebrows. "It's just a little weird to be talking about my period with a guy. Any guy. But especially you. I mean we've been …" she waved her hands, "close. But this is girl stuff and even if you weren't who you are I still wouldn't want to talk about this with you because you're a guy and you just wouldn't get it."

"I wouldn't get what, Buffy? That you're all mixed up because you're late? That you think you're pregnant? That you're miserable because you're bloated? That you've been living on chocolate for the past couple of days? What won't I get?" Angel's voice grew louder.

"How about a period for starters," Buffy muttered under her breath and spun away from him.

Angel's arms slipped around her waist as he pulled her back to him. His chuckle rumbled in his chest. "God, I hope not." He kissed the nape of her neck. "Are you like this every month?"

Buffy relaxed into his embrace. "Nope. Some months I throw things. Pointy wooden things."

"I'll try to remember that."

*

PART IV
Je sais que c'est interdit. / I know that this is forbidden.

Buffy couldn't sleep. The air conditioning unit was broken. They were moving to a new place tomorrow, but tonight she couldn't sleep. She was hot and cramping. She wasn't sure what she was going to do once her period started. Living with Angel was … intense? Weird? Different? All of the above. Before her birthday, she had often fantasized about a life with him. Those fantasies included candlelight dinners, romantic music, and endless lovemaking. Reality was brutal. A level of awkwardness and sexual tension had quickly developed as the daily routines of bathing, dressing, and sleeping in a confined space had forced an unwelcome intimacy

She got out of bed and sat by the open window. The slight breeze did nothing for her. She thought about Angel lying half-naked on his bed. Buffy's nightshirt was sweaty and stuck to her skin. If Angel hadn't been there, she would have slept in the nude. A couple of months ago it would have been exciting. Now it was just dangerous. She knew Angel wanted her. And, if she were honest with herself, she wanted him too. They hadn't kissed since that morning at the mansion. Buffy could count on two hands how many times he had touched her after their first night in LA.

The cramps intensified and Buffy cursed at not taking Angel's offer to get her some Midol. She massaged her belly and shifted awkwardly on the windowsill. She hadn't had a period in months; this one was really going to hurt. Until her birthday, her cycles had been regular and she'd never been late. Buffy assumed it was the stress of dealing with Angelus. Pregnancy had never been an issue. Now sex is not an issue. She marveled at the irony. Angel was still the only one she wanted. And he's the only one I can't have. Was that true? Willow had not spent a lot of time researching the curse. Maybe Miss Calendar had altered it. She could call Willow. No, I can't.

Angel shifted in his sleep and flung one arm over the edge of the bed. It's a crime for him to look that good. Buffy picked at the scabs on her wrist. She remembered the look on his face just before he bit through her skin. It had hurt a little, but not as much as she thought it would. It certainly didn't feel like the Master's bite.

Buffy lifted the hair off her neck. Perhaps she should cut it. But Angel likes to run his fingers through it. That was almost reason enough to do it. She twisted her hair into a knot. That feels so much better. Then she twisted the ends of the shirt and tucked it through the front opening so it created a halter. It was one of Angel's shrunken silk shirts. She had ruined six of them before he forbade her from doing his laundry. She leaned her head against the window frame. There was just enough room for her to sit and stare at nothing.

Angel rolled onto his side and opened his eyes. Buffy wasn't in her bed. A slight panic began to build. He listened and heard her faint humming from the window. He propped his head on a hand and stared at the sight before him. The streetlight fell on her blonde hair turning it white. Her shirt was knotted around her chest. He could vaguely see the strap of her thong. Beyond this, he saw lots of bare flesh on her toned arms, legs, and abdomen. The neverending erection in his pants throbbed in response. Hell would have been better than this.

"You okay?" he asked quietly.

She shrieked and fell off the windowsill. "What the hell is wrong with you? You can't clear your throat or cough or something to say 'Awake over here'?" She glared at him from the floor before righting herself. "I was hot."

"Oh." What else could he say? "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay. I can't sleep."

He watched her fold herself back into the window frame. "Can I help?"

"Only if you can be an air conditioner." Buffy fidgeted and tried to regain her prior position.

Angel got out of his bed and walked to the window. "Scoot up," he said. She gave him a quizzical look but moved over. He sat behind her and pulled her back against his chest. As his cool flesh made contact with her heated skin, she released an appreciative "aah". He slowly slid his hands down her arms and laced his fingers with hers. Then he wrapped his arms (and hers) around her waist and lifted her onto his lap.

"Mmmmmm," Buffy murmured. "Just like having a my-size Popsicle." She wriggled a bit until she was comfortable and leaned her head against his chest. "Have you ever had a Popsicle? My favourite is strawberry. Except it leaves my lips all red and then I kind of look like a clown."

"I think I'd like to see that."

Buffy bent her head to look at him. "You know, for a vampire, you have some weird tastes."

Angel laughed. "At least I don't taste like strawberry Popsicles." He had meant to say it teasingly. Somehow it came out soft and seductive.

"No," said Buffy angling her face. "You don't." She brushed her lips against his. "You taste like Angel," she whispered.

The next thing she knew, her hands were tangling in his hair, holding his face, running up and down his bare back. His tongue swept the inside of her mouth like a tidal wave breaking through a barrier. His hands followed her curves and somehow caught on the knot in the shirt. Seconds later the shirt was on the floor and Angel's fingers sailed over her breasts and circled her nipples. When his thumbs finally stroked over the pebbled peaks, Buffy moaned into his mouth. He repeated the motion and felt her body writhe in his arms. He nibbled on her lips, her earlobes, and her graceful neck as she breathlessly chanted his name.

Buffy didn't emerge from this sweet cocoon of seduction until her back hit the mattress. Angel was swirling his tongue around her nipples, her navel, and everywhere in between. She couldn't tell where his mouth ended and his fingers began. The sensations all blurred together. The alarm rang when he snagged the waistband of her thong. "Angel, stop."

Amazingly he heard her. He removed his fingers and groaned before collapsing onto her warm belly. Their ragged breaths echoed in the room until she was the only one gasping. Silently he got up and retrieved her shirt. Angel did not look away as she slipped it back on. Buffy blushed under his intense stare.

"I'm not sorry," he said hoarsely. "I'll never be sorry for loving you or wanting you."

"I know." And she did. She wasn't sorry either.

Her period started the next day in typical "screw Buffy" fashion. She awoke to Angel's barely controlled growling. When she opened her eyes, he was pacing in front of the door in his game face. She was about to ask him what was wrong when she felt the wetness between her legs and caught a whiff of sweet copper. It was daylight. Angel looked like he was ready to climb the walls.

Buffy felt like crap. She didn't want to move except to get a hot water bottle and some Midol. She glanced at Angel. He was struggling to control his bloodlust. What if I just let him… she didn't dare finish this thought. Angel would surely wonder about her sanity. On the other hand … Stop it. Not going there.

She sat up and blearily rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. Her gaze wandered around the room. Two suitcases were open on Angel's bed. Both were almost filled with neatly packed clothes. Must have been desperate for a distraction. A duffel bag sat on the floor surrounded by Buffy's shoes and toiletry articles. She spied a box of tampons on the table and her toothbrush.

"Give me ten minutes, Angel."

He mutely nodded at her.

She heard his fist pound through the wall as she closed and locked the bathroom door.

*

PART V
Prends moi. / Take me.

They ended up in a room with a double bed instead of two single beds because of a clerical error. Angel offered to search for another place, but Buffy was tired of walking in the rain. She was soaked and she just wanted to be warm and dry. She still had to work so the sooner they were settled, the happier she would be.

"Just get the room already, Angel. You can sleep on the floor if it makes you feel happy. Miserable. Whatever," Buffy grumbled.

The new room resembled the others they had stayed in. A kitchenette, cable TV, air conditioning, small bathroom, a love seat, a dresser, and the bed. Angel stocked the refrigerator and emptied his suitcase into one of the dresser's drawers. They had been living out of suitcases for nearly three weeks. Sooner or later, he decided, they would need to find somewhere bigger and more permanent. This constant living on top of each other was nerve-wracking. Angel's body was in an incessant state of tension that was beginning to exhaust him. He could imagine the effect on Buffy.

She emerged from the bathroom with an empty bag. "Tell me again why someone who can't see his reflection has more hair products than me." She tossed the bag into the corner and threw herself on the bed. "What time is it?"

Angel glanced at a clock. "You've got about ninety minutes before you need to go to work. Why don't you take a nap?"

She groaned loudly. "I've still got to unpack my stuff. Unless you do it for me," she wheedled coyly as she rolled onto her side and curled up into a ball.

"What do I get?"

"What do you want?" Buffy bargained as she pulled the blanket over her.

"What are you offering?"

She batted a pillow into shape before shoving it under her head. "How about less-bitchy Buffy?" She squirmed as she settled into the mattress. "Or a Buffy-free day?"

"I'm usually sleeping in the day."

"Okay then. A Buffy-free night. Does that work?" She closed her eyes.

"Can I have Buffy for a night?" Angel's voice innocuously travelled out of a suitcase.

Buffy's eyes flew open. Did he really say that? "Uh, sure." She closed her eyes again. "Just remember, though, you could end up with more-bitchy Buffy for a night."

Shirley was ogling Angel again when Buffy emerged from the employee locker room.

"He really doesn't dance?" she asked Buffy. "He looks like he could dance."

Buffy laughed at Angel's discomfort. "He really doesn't. I'll see you Saturday, Shirl." She'd had a good night with friendly customers and lots of tips. Tomorrow was her day off. She was planning to do nothing but laze around. She opened her flowery umbrella and handed it to Angel.

"Buffy, I'm not walking anywhere with that thing." He thrust it back at her.

"Fine. Get pneumonia. See if I care." She stepped into the driving rain but turned back when she realized he wasn't with her. "What? Aren't we going?" She tapped her foot impatiently, but Angel still didn't move. "Geez, Angel, it's just an umbrella not the Second Coming."

"It's not the umbrella, Buffy."

"Then what is it, Angel? I'm getting wet out here." And then she knew exactly what it was. It was the rain and being wet and going somewhere together in the night. It was her birthday all over again. "It's just rain, Angel," she said quietly. "Just rain."

Except it wasn't just the rain. When they reached the room, she was soaking wet and shivering. Her translucent dress clung to her body like skin.

Angel could not bear to look at her. He went to the kitchenette and made some tea while she showered. When she walked out of the bathroom, she was wearing one of his shirts. He removed the tea bag from her cup. "I know you have clothes. I put them away today."

"And?" Buffy took the cup from him and poured a lot of sugar into it.

"So why are you wearing my clothes?" He leaned against a counter and waited.

She stirred the sugar into her tea. They're comfy. They smell like you. It's like having you touch me all night. It's the closest I can get to you. Buffy shrugged her shoulders. "Dunno. Thanks for the tea."

She wandered into the main room and turned on the TV. She flipped through the channels until she found a Bugs Bunny cartoon. Thunder rumbled overhead and the lights flickered. Buffy looked at the ceiling. "You have got to be kidding me. I just got here. All I want to do is watch something mindless. Please." The lights flickered again but stayed on. "Thank you." She sipped her tea and stretched her toes. Her feet hurt.

More thunder. More light flickering. "HEY!" she yelled at the ceiling. Lightning flared in the distance followed by a loud explosion. Darkness descended. "I'm NOT laughing!" Buffy shouted.

Angel opted to sleep on the floor. He had expected an argument from Buffy. Instead, she silently handed him a pillow and blanket.

He lay awake watching the flashes of lightning and waiting. Her nightmares started just after 2 A.M. When Buffy sat up and screamed his name, he was immediately at her side.

"Hey, shhh. I'm right here." Angel gently pushed the hair away from her eyes. For a long moment they stared at each other. Then she lay down and pulled him with her. Buffy squirmed until she was comfortable. "Comfortable" was Angel spooned against her back with his arm draped over her waist. She sighed and drifted into sleep.

Buffy woke because she couldn't move; she was trapped in Angel's embrace. She wriggled until she could roll over and face him. Her fingers lightly traced his features. As her forefinger passed over his lips, his eyes opened sleepily.

"Time to get up?" he mumbled.

She giggled. "You are such a grouch. Did they teach you that at vampire school?"

"Yeah. Lemme sleep." Angel closed his eyes and buried his face in her hair.

Her hands rubbed his chest. She could feel the outlines of his muscles beneath his t-shirt. She slipped her hands beneath the shirt. Her fingers danced across his taut abdomen and swept up his chest. She dragged her nails across his nipples.

Angel moaned deep in his body. "Buffy, don't," he whispered as he nuzzled her neck.

"Why not? I miss you so much," she whispered back. She kissed the soft skin at the base of his throat.

"I don't think I could stop this time."

Buffy removed her hands and smoothed his shirt before aimlessly rubbing his chest. She could see lightning over his shoulder. She wondered (again) if Angel would lose his soul if they made love. She sighed in frustration. Maybe he was right: one of them should leave. She could survive without him; it wouldn't be pretty. Neither one of them would have to deal with this dysfunctional relationship.

Angel kissed her forehead. "Go back to sleep. We'll make it work."

"Promise?" Because I don't see how we can.

Angel awoke when he heard something crunch beneath his shoulder. The object was jagged and powdery and smelled faintly like… crackers? He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It blinked at him. He closed his eyes and listened. He heard passing cars, rain, the whirr of a vacuum cleaner, the drone of a television soap opera. Angel guessed the time was around 1 P.M. He stretched his arms out. His hand brushed something sticky. He sniffed his fingers. It was peanut butter.

He sat up. Buffy wasn't in the room. He could a voice humming in the bathroom followed by the soft splash of water.

Angel knocked on the door. "There's peanut butter in our bed," he complained.

Buffy giggled. "Good morning to you, too," she called through the closed door. Angel heard more splashing.

"And crackers," he added grumpily. "I don't like sleeping on crackers."

More giggling. "Then brush them off the sheets and go back to sleep. I'm busy in here."

Angel rubbed his eyes and stared at the bed. He wasn't really tired. For the first time since he was resouled, he had not woken to memories of Angelus. He ran his fingers through his hair. What he really wanted was a shower. "How much longer are you gonna be?"

"Awhile."

Angel heard something clink against the sink. He could imagine all kinds of objects but nothing that made clinking sounds. "Buffy, what are you doing in there?"

"Girly things, Angel. You really want the details?" Her sarcasm drifted through the closed door. He almost answered "Yes" but caught himself. "I won't be much longer, I promise," she added.

Angel sat on the bed and thought about the previous night. Sleeping together might have been the best thing for both of them. Buffy's nightmares had not returned once he was in bed with her. She had slept soundly, and so had he. In fact, he hadn't felt this rested since he left Sunnydale.

The bathroom door opened. Buffy was wearing another of his shirts and had a towel wrapped around her hair. "It's all yours, Mr. I-don't-like-crackers-in-my-bed."

"Our bed," he corrected. "It's our bed. Yours and mine."

"Our bed," agreed Buffy softly.

The room had a small balcony with an overhang so the rain didn't blow in. Buffy sat in front of the open door with the phone on her lap. She had dialed Willow's number several times but as soon as she heard the phone ring, she hung up. Buffy debated about whom to call. She had called her mother once (from a payphone) about a week after she left Sunnydale. The phone had rung until the answering machine picked up. She hadn't left a message. What would she say? She had also called Giles' number several times. Xander always answered, but she wasn't ready to talk to him yet. That really only left Willow.

This time she let the phone ring a couple of times. "Hello?" said Willow. Buffy felt a lump in her throat. "Hello? Is anyone there?" asked Willow. In the motel room, Buffy tried to form words. "Buffy? Is that you?"

She was ready to say "Yes, Willow, it's me" when she heard a different voice on the phone. "Buffy? Where are you? Do you have any idea how worried everyone is? Why'd you take off like that? Your mother's really freaking." Xander's anger snaked through the phone line. In the background she heard Willow say "Xander! Don't talk to her like that. You're gonna scare her off. Buffy, don't listen to him."

Buffy slammed the phone down and stared into the street. She could feel the tears forming in her eyes and slowly trickle down her face.

From the kitchenette Angel watched as Buffy bowed her head and finally cried.

Since Angel had not specified how he wanted to spend his "Buffy for a night" night, he let Buffy talk him into going to the dance club. She had squealed in pleasure and locked herself in the bathroom with some clothes and lots of makeup, or so he guessed.

He knocked on the bathroom door at 9:00 P.M. "You know, for someone who had the day off, you sure spent a lot of time in this bathroom. You planning on sleeping there tonight?" He nearly fell in as Buffy quickly opened the door.

She was wearing the wine-coloured dress she had worn to The Bronze the night she danced with Xander to the seductive rhythms of Cibo Matto. Angel felt a flicker of possession cross his features. He forcefully kept his hands by his side.

"No," she said wantonly, "I plan on sleeping in our bed." She glided past him and gathered her coat and purse from the bed. "Coming?"

As Buffy had informed Shirley, Angel did not dance. Well, he didn't do any of the faster dances. Instead he sat at a table and watched her. A couple of boys tried to dance with Buffy but she pushed them away. Angel might not have been dancing with her, but she was here with him. When the music slowed, she glanced over to the table but he wasn't there.

Her Slayer senses were still tingling so she knew he was nearby. She felt him standing behind her. She turned to face him. Angel cupped her face and slowly lowered his lips to hers. Buffy closed her eyes and parted her lips for him. As the kiss deepened, Angel tangled one hand in her hair and used the other to pull her flush against him. Her arms slid under his jacket and around his waist; she was liquid in his embrace. Eventually they began to sway to the music. They danced like this for several minutes. When the music returned to a faster tempo, Buffy pulled Angel's ear to her mouth. "Take me home, Angel," she whispered.

They stopped many times on the way back to the motel. Either Angel or Buffy would pull the other into a doorway and passionate kissing would ensue. By the time they opened the door to their room, Buffy already had a hickey on her neck and another at the base of her throat. She pushed Angel's jacket off his shoulders and tore the buttons of his shirt as she ripped it open. Angel unzipped her dress. All of this occurred while they continued to kiss. Buffy stepped out of her dress and kicked off her shoes. She stood before Angel in her bra and panties. He shuddered as he looked at her.

"Buffy," he whispered. "You know we're not going to—"

She stopped his words with a finger against his lips. "I know. And I don't… I mean I can't…" She sighed. "It's alright, Angel. I'm okay with whatever we do. Even if all we do is kiss."

Angel leered at her. "Honest, all I was gonna do was kiss you." He nibbled her ear lobe. "Now, as to where I was gonna kiss you…" His left hand traced her spine from the nape of her neck to her tailbone, "…that's a whole other story."

He drew her towards the bed and sat down, pulling her into his lap. He unhooked her bra and let her breasts fall freely. "You're beautiful. Do you know that?" He gazed into her eyes. "Tell me what you want," he commanded softly.

Buffy let her eyes drink in Angel. His hair was sticking straight up where her hands had twisted and tangled in it. He had a smear of lipstick on his ear and another on his throat. She knew there were scratches on his back from her nails. She wanted Angel to make love to her, but that was never going to happen again. What else did she want? She returned her gaze to the dark mahogany eyes that reflected love and lust equally. "You," she answered. "All I want is you." She took one of his hands and placed it in the valley between her breasts. And grimaced as a wave of menstrual cramps suddenly hit her. "Well, you and maybe some more Midol."

Angel laughed as he lifted her off his lap and placed her in the bed. He rummaged through his drawer for a shirt for her. Then he headed into the bathroom for the Midol and the hot water bottle. He took both to the kitchenette, filled the kettle with water, and set it to boil. When he got back to the bed, Buffy was flipping through the TV channels in search of a cartoon or a good movie. Angel handed her a cup of tea and two Midol tablets. He pulled the covers back and placed the filled hot water bottle on her abdomen. Then he covered her up and sat on the floor by the bed.

She put the empty cup on the night stand and leaned down to kiss Angel's neck. "Thank you. Sorry you got still-having-a-period Buffy."

Angel leaned his head back against the bed as she kissed his throat. "I'll take whatever I can get."

*

PART VI
Je suis à toi. / I am yours.

A week later Angel showed up at the restaurant with a car and Buffy's suitcases. Fortunately, it was payday. Buffy didn't ask why everything they owned was shoved into a car; she didn't even ask where Angel had gotten a car. Instead, she briefly hugged Shirley, collected her pay, and left.

Buffy sat in the car's front bench seat and glanced at Angel's profile. He was staring out the windshield, his hands clenching the steering wheel, the muscle in his jaw pulsing rapidly. Buffy put her hand on his arm. "Hey," she said quietly.

Angel didn't say anything. They drove through the streets of LA for twenty minutes before he pulled into a side street and turned off the engine. Buffy unclipped her seat belt and slid along the front seat until her leg brushed Angel's thigh.

"You know I love you," he rasped.

"Yes." She had never questioned Angel's love.

"You know that I would never, never, knowingly hurt you." Angel still did not look at Buffy.

"Yes," she repeated. "Angel, you're scaring me. What happened?"

He stared at his hands. That's when Buffy noticed the burn mark on his palm. It was in the shape of a cross. She pulled his hand into her lap and gently traced the burn.

"Who did this to you?"

The dark-haired vampire raised his eyes to hers. "I would do anything for you, Buffy. If you want me to leave, I will. If you want me to stay, I'll do that too. No matter what, I will always love you. You are the best thing that's ever happened to me, as a human and as a vampire. I want you to know that." Angel kissed her savagely, crushing her lips with his. The kiss literally sucked the breath from her.

Buffy pushed him away. "Angel, drop the cryptic. What's going on?" Her body responded to his closeness. It always did, but this kiss held the flavour of desperation. Something, or someone, had scared him. Buffy could only think of a few things, or people, that had that power. "Please, Angel. Tell me."

He honestly didn't know where to start. A month ago, after Acathla had closed its mouth and Angel had packed minimally. He had been frantic with worry for Buffy. She had left him bleeding on the mansion's floor after she had nearly bisected him with the sword. Angel understood that she had done that to save his life and stop Acathla. Still, it had taken all of his strength and willpower to get off the floor. He knew if he didn't find her, he would never see her again. He had forced his battered body to move through the sewers. He had pretended to be Angelus. He had finally found someone who told him that a girl matching Buffy's description had boarded a bus bound for L.A. Angel could remember only bits and pieces of the rest of that day until he found her at the bus terminal.

Today, before dawn, he had returned to Sunnydale. Going back had been a nightmare in every sense. The mansion was a mess. Acathla was gone, but the room where he tortured Giles… he could still smell the blood. Drusilla's dolls were scattered. Most of the weapons were missing. He assumed that Giles or the others had taken them. He had gone to his basement apartment for the rest of his non-Angelus clothes and other items. Angel had walked into his old home and was immediately hit with memories of making love to Buffy. He had gathered up the red coverlet and inhaled the faint remainder of her scent mixed with his semen. He had left Sunnydale at nightfall and returned to LA.

Giles had kicked in the motel room door an hour later and nearly killed him with a bolt from the crossbow. The two men had fought terribly. Giles' intent was to kill Angelus at all costs. Angel took as many blows as he could for all the hideous things he had done to the man. He had tried not to hurt the Watcher. But, when Giles threatened to forcibly return Buffy to Sunnydale, Angel stopped pulling his punches. The vampire was stronger. Eventually he knocked the British man into unconsciousness. Angel had surveyed the damage. Giles would need a doctor, but he would probably be fine. Angel guessed that he had enough time to pack up their belongings and get Buffy.

By the time he'd left, no trace of their presence remained at the motel. Angel had had time to think about Giles' accusations as he packed: "vicious monster," "devil incarnate", "evil creature." Giles fervently believed he was dealing with Angelus. He was convinced that Buffy was being kept against her will. His proof? Buffy's lone call to Willow the week before. Angel had tried to tell Giles that he had a soul again and Buffy was with him voluntarily. The Watcher had not been interested in the truth. He genuinely did not care. Amidst the brawling, Giles had informed him that the Council knew the Scourge of Europe had a Slayer. The Watcher had boasted that they would ruthlessly hunt and kill him. Angelus was a danger to the world and would be eliminated.

Angel considered again what to tell Buffy. This last week had been the closest to "normal" that either of them had known in months. The days had passed in a blur of kisses and caresses, soft conversations and wondrous smiles, a warm body sleepily pressed to his cooler one late in the night. It had been almost perfect. Buffy's life was about to get seriously complicated and dangerous because she was with him. Until now, she thought of the Watchers' Council as a distant benevolent organization. Angel, on the other hand, knew the Council's capabilities and history. A Slayer allied with a vampire was a complicit betrayal of centuries-old tradition and practice. Buffy's role would not be diminished or dismissed. A price would be exacted for her decision to stay with him. He silently cursed Giles for his shortsightedness and vengeful actions.

Buffy rested her head on Angel's shoulder and snaked an arm around his waist. She could feel the turmoil within him. "Some time before the sun comes up would be nice." His body did not relax. "Whatever it is, we'll deal."

Angel kissed her forehead. "Do you want to go home?"

Buffy shrugged. "Of course."

"There's a bus leaving for Sunnydale at midnight," Angel said tonelessly. "Or I can drive you. Whichever you want."

"Sunnydale?" Buffy was confused. "I don't want to go to Sunnydale. Angel, home is wherever you are. Unless you happen to be in Sunnydale. And then home is Sunnydale." She laced her fingers through his. "Why do you think I want to go back to Sunnydale?"

"Giles thinks I'm keeping you here against your will. Am I? Are you staying in LA because of me?" Angel's heart told him "no"; his head was busy cycling through Buffy's possible answers.

"Giles? 'Giles thinks'? When were you talking to—" She stopped. "He found us, didn't he?" She sagged beside him. Buffy had believed that she could hide forever. Apparently, she could only hide for about a month.

"I'll do whatever you want. You don't have to go back to Sunnydale alone. I'll go with you," Angel offered.

"Sure, and while you're at it, why don't we take bets on how long you'll get to live? Between Giles and Xander—"

"And the Council," Angel added heavily.

"The Council?" She considered this. "Of course. The Council wants you dead. Nothing new there." Buffy chewed her lower lip in frustration. She had been suffocating in the "Let's hate Angel/Angelus" atmosphere of Sunnydale. If she went back without Angel, that would still be there. Xander would be sure to rub it in her face at every turn. Giles would be a daily reminder of the whims of Angelus. Her mother… she didn't want to think about how her mother would behave. Probably lots of histrionics and recriminations there too. At the end of it all, she would be there alone. If she went back with Angel, it really would be open season on her lover. My lover. When did I upgrade Angel from boyfriend to lover?

"There's an alternative. I could leave," suggested Angel. He really didn't like that idea, but without him, there was a good chance the Council would lessen their punishment of Buffy.

"Not liking door number one or two. What's behind door number three?"

"We stay together. Here or someplace else."

Buffy squeezed his hand. "Kiss me." This kiss was gentle and loving and completely different from the last one. "I still want to die when you kiss me," she murmured against his lips. Angel started to pull away. She stopped him. "Trust me, that's a good thing." They kissed again. "I love you. I'll never stop. Nothing can change that."

She glanced around the car. "So…"

"So?" Angel repeated before he kissed her again.

"So, you have a car now, and soon you're going to tell me why you have a car now and not a week ago when we were trudging through the rain." Angel smiled into her hair. "The question is, where do go from here? Because I'm thinking, if Giles found us once, he could probably do it again. The Council definitely could. There can't be that many stunningly beautiful girls shacked up with older handsome vampires in LA."

"I wouldn't know. I don't think I know any stunningly beautiful girls." Angel grunted as a fist landed in his solar plexus. "My mistake," he croaked. "I know one stunningly beautiful girl."

*

PART VII
Je suis folle. / I am crazy.

They stayed in LA another week before escaping ahead of a Council hit squad. Buffy had repeatedly tried to contact Giles during the week but he was unreachable. Angel discovered that he had been recalled to England to meet with the Council. It was not a good sign. Angel had secretly worried that the situation was about to escalate dangerously. The arrival of the assassination team confirmed his fears.

They had returned to staying in cheap demon-run motels. Angel was hoping that, if they just stayed under the radar, they would be missed. To Buffy's chagrin, this translated to essentially being grounded. She and Angel were spending nearly twenty-four hours a day together. The sexual tension between them was almost unbearable. Angel was sleeping on the floor again. Buffy made sure she didn't wear anything revealing. They didn't flirt. They had stopped kissing, hugging, even touching. The constant danger of discovery added an extra level of tension. By the end of the week, they were hardly speaking to each other. It was a mutually self-imposed moratorium. They never discussed the specifics. They just knew they were dancing close to the line.

In the end, it was inevitable. Angel made a phone call to Sunnydale. Buffy caught snatches of conversation as she dried off from her shower. When she emerged from the bathroom, he was already throwing clothes into suitcases.

"We're leaving now," he ordered. Buffy didn't argue with him. She scooped all the items on the dresser into a plastic grocery bag and returned to the bathroom to gather everything there. There were still four hours of daylight left. It was two hours from Sunnydale to here. The Council's assassins had left ninety minutes earlier.

Buffy packed the car and brought it as close to the motel's main entrance as she could. Angel still had to cross almost thirty feet in the open. He dove into the car's back seat and pulled the smouldering blanket over his body. Under its cover, he grimaced as Buffy tried to manoeuver the car into an underground parking garage. It was hard to say who was more relieved when she shut off the engine.

She leaned her head against the steering wheel. "This is only gonna work if you teach me how to drive."

"It's not the teaching part that concerns me," Angel muttered as he got out of the car and opened the driver's side front door. Buffy gratefully slid over to the passenger side. Angel looked at her. "Buffy? I can't get in unless you push the seat back." She slid back over and fumbled for the lever. The seat moved and Angel got in. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Buffy looked shaken. "Driving's a little different when you're actually the one doing the driving." She rolled her shoulders. "But I think I could get used to it." She missed Angel's silent appeal to the heavens. "Now we just wait, right?" She turned on the radio and listened to the static. Buffy turned it off. "So… how about a game of 'I spy'?"

They made it through twelve rounds of 'I Spy' before Angel spotted the private security patrol car. He pulled Buffy down on the seat and covered her with his body. They tensed as a strong spotlight shone through the windshield. When Angel judged that the security guards were far enough away, he sat up. "It's safe."

Buffy sat up and covered her face with her hands. "Is this it, Angel?" She pushed her hands into her hair and grabbed fistfuls of it. "Is this what the rest of our lives will be? Running and hiding from the Watcher's Council? What did I do that was so terrible?" She turned tear-filled eyes to him. "Was I supposed to kill you and just go on with my life? Because I couldn't do it then, and I can't do it now."

Angel reached for her hand and gently stroked her thumb. "You're not the one they're looking for." He paused and considered how to say his next thought. "I know you don't want this. It would probably be better for you if I left."

Buffy snatched her hand out of his. "No."

"Buffy, think about this. I'm the one—"

"NO!" In the confined car, Buffy's shout filled the silence. "No," she repeated quietly. "We're in this together. You're not the only one they're hunting." She cut off his protest. "I heard you last night."

Angel was crestfallen. "I'm sorry. I didn't… I thought you were asleep." He had not wanted her to overhear that conversation. There were still some truths he wanted to hide.

Buffy picked at her thumbnail. "It's true, isn't it? The Council wants us both gone. God, I can't believe Giles agrees with them."

"I don't think he had any choice, Buffy. He's a Watcher. He knows the score."

"There's always a choice. You and Giles taught me that."

They left the parking garage just after sundown. LA was no longer safe. Buffy suggested San Francisco. Angel's face soured.

"Okay. How about Sacramento?" she offered.

"Sacramento? Who goes to Sacramento?"

"My point exactly."

Angel drove. He didn't trust Buffy on the highway although she begged, pleaded and cajoled. "Buffy, you're just not used to driving." And that's an understatement. "Besides, highway driving is not the same as city driving."

"Yes, I know. But, Angel, the freeway is just straight. You stay in one lane. There'll hardly be any traffic. Please." She slurped her tongue in his ear. "Pretty please?" she whispered before she sucked his earlobe between her teeth.

"No. And don't do that."

"Why not?" Buffy walked her fingers up Angel's arm, over his chest, and down his abdomen. "You could supervise, you know, kinda like a driving instructor." She was about to go further when he forcibly removed her hand.

"I don't think so."

She pouted and rubbed her face against his arm. "Why not? We both agreed that I needed more experience. With the driving I mean." Angel glanced at her face. She's not even blushing!

The car abruptly swerved onto the shoulder and halted. "Buffy, this is not the time to play games."

"I'm not playing—"

Angel grabbed her hand and placed it on his crotch. He closed her fingers around the large hard bulge beneath his pants.

Slowly, Buffy lifted her eyes to Angel's face. "Oh."

"Can I drive now?" he hissed and released her hand. She quickly drew it back. It was unfair, and Angel knew it. The past week had been hellacious if Hell is being able to see Buffy and not ever touch her. Angel had welcomed any excuse to leave the cramped room. He had been ready to throw Buffy on the bed, tear her clothes off, and just "have at it" to use Giles' term. His offers to leave were as much about saving her life as saving his soul. Except for the night the air conditioning hadn't worked, they hadn't done much beyond some intense kissing. Hands had never strayed beyond respectable areas. Even when they shared the bed, neither had ventured into those off-limit sites.

This last week though… he could sense her everywhere. His fingers had itched to touch her skin, his lips burned to kiss her mouth. Every time he turned around, she was there in his face because there was nowhere else to be. He could feel her eyes on his body. Why not? He looked at her just as greedily. And everywhere, every time she moved, he could smell the musk of her arousal. Like flies and honey.

Angel pulled back onto the highway. The next two hours passed in tense silence.

"There's a rest stop coming up. Do you want anything? Stretch your legs? Bathroom break? Something to eat or drink?"

Buffy stirred and opened her eyes. Angel's jacket covered her like a blanket. She absently traced the collar and bent her head to breathe his scent from it. "Where are we?"

"Just outside of Fresno."

Buffy stared aimlessly at the dashboard. Angel's voice was soft now, not harsh and unforgiving as before. She wondered if he was still angry about earlier. She had just been flirting. She really hadn't thought about the effect on him. Sure, you didn't. You had no clue that he's been wanting to jump your bones. Right. She was fooling herself. If Angel had wanted to push the issue, she wouldn't have stopped him. And Angelus could be driving me to Sacramento. What if Angel was right? What if the best thing was for them to stay away from each other? Buffy couldn't think about that now. "Sure. A break would be good." A break would solve half our problems.

They found a place to stay on the outskirts of Sacramento. Buffy had no money left. She chewed her lower lip as Angel removed his wallet and handed some cash to the desk clerk. If she wanted to leave, she would literally be leaving with nothing but the clothes on her back. Angel noticed the worry on her face but said nothing. When the clerk politely asked if they wanted a single or double room, Angel let Buffy answer.

Buffy opened the door to the room and held it as Angel carried the suitcases in. She closed the door and leaned her forehead against it. She listened to him place the luggage on the floor. She heard more noises as he opened one case and took some clothes out.

"I'm gonna fill the car up and see if I can find a butcher or something." Angel kissed the top of her head. "I put your night clothes on the bed. Why don't you take a shower and get some sleep." Buffy was silent. "Hey, I love you. I won't be long. I promise."

"'Kay." She locked the door after he left. When she turned back to the bed, she saw that he had taken out one of his shirts, some underwear, her hairbrush, and topped it with Mr. Gordo. I love you too, Angel. Come back to me.

Buffy tried to sleep, but Angel wasn't back yet. The room felt empty without him. After seven days of his constant presence, she missed the tingling feeling that screamed "vampire." She heard the lock click and the door handle turn. She grabbed the cross bow and leveled it at the doorway. She quickly put it down when she saw Angel silhouetted in the hallway's overhead light.

"What took you so long?" And didn't that sound like a nagging peevish wife.

"Sacramento's not like LA or San Francisco. I had to wait awhile. How come you're not sleeping?" Angel emptied the contents of one of the bags into a cooler and covered it with ice.

Because you're not in the bed beside me. Where you belong. "I was waiting for you." Buffy spoke softly. She sat up. "When are you coming to bed?" And again with the nagging.

"Soon. Go to sleep." Buffy watched him walk into the bathroom. She heard the soft whish of water as the shower was started. After a few minutes she crept to the bathroom door and stuck her fingers under it. She felt cool air. Yeah, plenty of sleep happening in here tonight.

Buffy called Willow from Sacramento. "Will? It's me." She held the receiver away from her ear as Willow's shriek cascaded through the phone line.

"I take it you're happy to hear from me." She laughed with her best friend.

"I'm fine. Talked to Giles lately?" Nervous fingers drummed on the table.

"Angel. I'm with Angel, not Angelus." My nails look crappy. Where's the polish?

"Yeah, you really did. Actually, that's why I'm calling." Red. Raspberry. Cherry. Where's the Naturally Neutral Pink?

"No, he hasn't lost it again. Please. I have some restraint." But not a whole lot. Six cotton swabs. That should be enough.

"Hey, Will? Is it the same curse?" Please say no.

"Maybe Miss Calendar changed it." Buffy prepped her fingernails.

"Could you check? Soon?" No pressure. We're just slightly fixated here.

"The Council what?" She froze with the nail polish brush suspended in midair. "How can they fire him? I mean I know I'm not there, but I'm not dead." A drop of polish fell onto the table. Buffy watched it solidify as she listened to Willow's detailed explanation.

"No, Will. I can't." I can't go home. I can't tell you where I am. I can't tell you what happened that day.

"I'll call soon. I promise. I miss you, too." She carefully applied polish to one finger.

"Willow? How's … have you seen my mom? Is she okay?" Buffy finished the other four fingers.

"I did try to call. I either get the answering machine or…" she hangs up on me or she just cries on the phone or she yells at me. I can't call anymore. She heard the sounds of a lock clicking. "I gotta go. I'll call in a couple of days. Bye."

*

PART VIII
Je veux tout. / I want everything.

A lot can happen in a couple of days. Buffy hated Sacramento. It was too… something. She couldn't put her finger on it. The city just annoyed her.

There was a park across from the motel. She spent the afternoon watching toddlers and preschoolers play. What she really wanted to do, needed to do, was kill something. Demon, vampire, she didn't much care. The last fight for her life had been with Angelus. Wonder if Angel would spar with me Probably not. They were back to the awkwardness of their first weeks in LA.

Buffy sat in the park until nightfall. Angel had given her some money. She had bought a large pretzel, yoghurt, and diet soda from one of the vendors. The sun turned the leaves gold as it set. She waited for darkness.

She was swinging with her eyes closed when Angel found her. He stood beneath a tree and observed her. Buffy was smiling like a little girl. He hadn't seen her do that since her birthday. He stepped into the moonlight.

Buffy slowed and then stopped the swing. "Hey! You got my note. I already ate dinner."

Angel sat on the swing beside her and shook his head in disbelief. "'Out' is not my idea of a note."

"Sorry." Buffy twisted the swing's chains and spun dizzily as they unravelled. "I haven't done this for ages." She did it again. And again. And felt sick. "Suddenly remembering why not."

The dark-haired vampire quickly stood, pulled a stake out of his pocket, and handed it to her. "Here's hoping you remember how to fight."

They were surrounded by a gang of six vampires dressed in tie-dyed shirts and pants. Several sported afros and John Lennon glasses. Buffy took one look at them and couldn't resist. "Oh, give me a break. Hippie vampires?" She glanced at Angel. "Now, I've seen everything." Angel just shrugged and kept his eyes on the two vampires behind them. "I mean," said Buffy as she ducked, parried, and staked a vampire. "This is 1998. And Woodstock is on the other side of the country. Right?"

"Let's discuss it later," said Angel as the remaining vampires rushed them.

Buffy sat on the swing again. This time she was accompanied by a chocolate mint ice cream cone. "You have no idea what you're missing," she teased Angel.

Angel stood by the swingset and watched her eat the ice cream. My imagination is doing a pretty good job. Especially when he substituted Buffy for ice cream. He shrugged again.

She glared at him. "When did you learn to shrug? That is such a Xander—" Buffy winced inwardly.

Buffy finished her ice cream and licked her fingers. "I called Willow last night." And? "Giles has been fired. He was 'removed' because he refused to 'sanction the disposal of a rogue Slayer'. Direct quote from the Council."

"I know."

"You know?" Buffy jumped off the swing. She suspected that he'd known for days. "You knew and you didn't say anything? I thought they were hunting you, and I was just bonus points. All this time, I'm the one they're after." Her fist caught his chin. Angel's head snapped against the metal pole. "When were you planning on telling me?" Another blow sent his head spinning in the opposite direction. "Or maybe you were never going to say anything?" Buffy drilled a series of punches into his kidneys. "Is that it?"

Angel took all of her punches, her anger, her fear. When she was spent, so was he. He collapsed to the ground. For a good time, call 1-800-Beat-Me-To-A-Pulp. Buffy may not have worked out in weeks, but her punches still packed a wallop. Angel was in severe pain. And he knew she wasn't done yet.

"Willow say anything else?" Angel coughed and spat blood onto the grass. His lips were swollen and split. Buffy was not the only one who had been in contact wth Sunnydale.

"I asked her… I wanted to know…" Buffy couldn't tell him. She wouldn't. "Nothing."

Angel opened one bruised eye and looked at her. She still didn't trust him with her feelings, and it was starting to annoy him. "So you used me as your punching bag because what? I'm convenient?" Buffy didn't answer him. Angel shook his head in disbelief. He made a decision. "You want me to leave? Fine. I'm gone." He groggily stood and faced her. Then he turned and walked away.

Buffy sank onto the swing. It had taken every iota of will to repeatedly hit Angel. The longer he stayed with her, the greater chance he had of dying. Willow had told her what her lover wouldn't. "Giles said the Council wouldn't stop until you're both dead. They think Angelus, well Angel, is protecting you." I feel like I'm dying inside again. Her thumb traced the outline of her claddagh ring. How am I supposed to live without you? She stared at the spot where Angel had stood and watched her eat ice cream.

Angel packed his clothes and left an envelope with $500 on the table. The money would keep Buffy off the streets for a couple of weeks. It would also give her a chance to get out of Sacramento and find a new place to hide. He would shadow her as he had when she was first called. With luck, Angel would be able to keep the Council from finding her. Willow either hadn't told Buffy everything or didn't know that this was a bounty hunt. Rogue slayers were not tolerated. The Council may have been inept and outdated in many of its methods, but Angel had never heard of a Slayer escaping its wrath. Multiple teams had been sent. He had already eliminated one team in LA, and they had eluded a second team.

He added a brief note to the envelope. Be safe. Remember I love you. Always.

The conversation with Giles was awkward and brief. The now ex-Watcher could not provide much additional information. Giles had been unprepared for the absoluteness of the Council. He had tried to reason with them, tried to salvage his Slayer, but he had been overruled or isolated at every opportunity. It had culminated in his dismissal. He had hurried back to Sunnydale and tried to avert some of the consequences but he was failing at that too. Most of Giles' sources disappeared or refused to co-operate when they heard he was no longer an official member of the Council. He now found himself in the unseemly position of depending upon Angel to protect Buffy. Giles didn't completely trust the vampire, but he was prepared to accept that he was speaking with Angel and not Angelus. He still vowed to kill Angel if he ever saw him again. The vampire did not doubt that he would.

Giles had heard rumors that a new Slayer had been called in Boston. Also, there were four Council assassination teams in the United States. He was rather pleased when Angel corrected him ("Three, then? That's too bad.").

Angel assured the ex-Watcher that Buffy was safe and no longer with him. ("Was that a good idea?" Now you want me to be with her? Make up your mind, Giles.) He refused to give the man more specific information. It's not you I don't trust; it's everybody else on the Council.

Giles' voice was momentarily replaced with Willow's.

"Angel? Is Buffy okay?" Angel winced. He vividly recalled standing in the hallway of Sunnydale High School with Willow's tantalizing neck inches away from his fangs. "She was gonna call me back. Tell her I think everything's fine." Willow paused. "Angel? Giles? I don't think Angel's there anymore."

Giles got back on the phone. "Angel? Has something happened?"

Angel's voice miraculously appeared albeit with much remorse. "No, nothing's happened. I'll call if something changes."

"Wait."

He returned the phone to his ear. "Yes?"

"Look after her. If you need anything…"

"I'll take care of her, Giles." How can I not? I love her.

*

PART IX
Je m'abandonne. / I lose myself.

Reality was somewhere in between, and that was where they met again. Seventeen days after the fight in the park, a phone card and an envelope of money appeared in Buffy's room. She couldn't prove it, but she knew they were from Angel. Somehow he had entered her room while she was asleep and left them. She was annoyed at his presumptions, but she needed the money. She had been unable to get a decent job with reasonable wages. Buffy found a scrap of paper and scribbled "Thank you" on it. She added a heart and "XOXOXOXO". She left the note on the room's tiny table.

That night a single red rose was left on the note. Buffy discovered it when she woke to go to the bathroom. She filled a juice bottle with water and stuck the rose in it. She added the word "again" to the note and placed it under the bottle.

The next night, two more red roses appeared. Buffy wrote, "I miss you."

The note lay untouched for four days. The roses began to fade. On the fifth day, Buffy moved the wanna-be vase so she could sharpen some stakes. That's when she noticed "Me too" neatly written below her message.

Buffy switched motels. The new one was cleaner and quieter than the three previous places. She unpacked the suitcase and wondered how long she was staying. This room had a balcony like the one in LA. She left the sliding glass door unlocked and waited. Angel entered just after midnight. He carried another single-stemmed rose. He brushed it lovingly over her sleeping body before placing it on the table.

"You know breaking and entering's illegal." Angel froze in shock. "Lucky for me. My boyfriend gets real mean when strange men come into my room. He's kind of possessive in a crazy homicidal way."

Angel exhaled. "I think I just aged another hundred years."

"You look the same to me." Buffy turned on the bedside light. "You plan on staying awhile?" Her voice was tough bravado. The act was marred by a trembling lip and fearful eyes. She wore one of his shirts, a burgundy silk that showed off her tanned skin. Her claddagh ring caught the light.

"Thought you didn't want me around," responded Angel as he removed his duster.

Buffy pulled the sheets back and stood by the bed. The light silhouetted her body. Angel's tongue wet his lips as he realized all she was wearing was his shirt and his ring.

"Thought you wanted to leave," Buffy tossed back as she stroked the edge of the nightstand with a finger. Angel was wearing what she had come to think of as his "standard" wardrobe: black pants and black silk shirt unbuttoned at the top to hint at the muscle beneath. She waited for Angel to approach her. As far as Buffy was concerned, she'd more than hung out the "Welcome" sign. If Angel were staying, it would be because he wanted to and not because she asked him.

The dark-haired vampire closed the sliding door. The lock snapped into place. He let his eyes travel hungrily over her body as his face reflected his longing. Seeing Buffy from a distance and being right here in the room … there was no substitute. He crossed to her in two strides.

"Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you?" Angel whispered as he nuzzled her neck, her hair, her throat, and never touched her. "Do you know how much I want to hold you in my arms?" He blew a soft puff of air against her ear. "I want you more than I want this life." His rich velvet tone bathed her body. Angel stepped back and his voice returned to its normal timbre. "The question is, do you want me in your life?"

Buffy didn't answer. She simply undid the buttons of his burgundy shirt and let it fall to the floor.

Angel continued to nurse at her breast long after he fell asleep. His mouth reflexively sucked every few minutes. Between his lips, the arm entwined around her waist, and the fingers still idly sliding in and out of her core, Angel had effectively bound Buffy. On the other hand, she was too wired to sleep. Their lovemaking had sated her body, but her mind hummed with the consequences.

Gently and slowly, Buffy unwrapped herself from Angel. She donned his black shirt and silently opened the glass door. The streetlights of Sacramento stretched before her. This night had been so different from her birthday. Except for the running for my life part. And the making love to Angel part. Buffy smiled and sighed. If this was the rest of her life, she could survive. The man she loved was asleep in her bed. They had spent the whole night reacquainting themselves with each other. Buffy was delighted to discover that Angel was ticklish, that if she kissed his navel he growled, that she liked how he tasted … all of him.

What happens now? Angel had asked her to trust him. Buffy hadn't hesitated. She had locked her gaze with his through her climax and his. After, she had whispered, "Always."

The glass door opened and closed behind her. Angel's hands momentarily rested on her shoulders before sweeping down the front of her body. Buffy giggled at his brazenness.

"It'll be dawn soon," she said. She could hear birds twittering and singing.

"I can smell it." Angel lifted her hair and planted soft kisses along the nape of her neck. "My pillow disappeared."

Buffy shivered as he found the sensitive area behind her ear. "Your pillow is wondering what happened."

Angel grinned proudly before tasting the shell of her ear. "We made love. Again. And again. And again. And," he nibbled her earlobe, "I think I'm addicted." His erection pressed into the crease of her buttocks. "I can't seem to get enough of you." His hands slipped under the shirt and caressed her breasts until her nipples begged for his touch. When he swept a thumb over each bud, she shuddered against his body. Angel pushed the shirt up so her lower body was exposed to the cool night air and bent her forward. He supported her with one arm.

"Angel?" Buffy breathed huskily. "We're not really going to do this out here, are we?" Not that she would complain. After last night, Angel could do her in the middle of an apocalypse and she wouldn't complain.

He guided his erection into her willing body. "We've got time."

"Okay. But I'm not responsible if you get sunburnt." Buffy moaned in pleasure as Angel glided in and out in increasing urgency.

Her orgasmic cry was stifled by Angel's palm. "You're gonna get us kicked out," he whispered in her ear before he exploded inside her.

The sky was turning yellow when Angel lowered Buffy to the ground. "Did you like?" he asked shyly.

She turned to face him. In the hazy predawn light, he looked like a magnificent Greek god from a painting she'd once seen. His skin was cool marble. His dark hair lent an air of sensuality. She had to smile when she saw that, even after all their lovemaking, he was ready to go again. "You're worse than the frigging Energizer bunny."

"I'm better. No batteries required." He tugged on her hand. "I can prove it too."

They got dressed late in the afternoon. They had spent the day much as they had spent the night: in endless passion. Buffy's stomach pre-empted any further amorous activities.

"What do you want for dinner?" asked Angel as he surveyed the slim offerings of her refrigerator. "All I see in here is yoghurt and bagels. And fruit. And iced tea." He opened the mini-freezer compartment. "And ice cream. At least you're consistent."

Buffy leaned over his arm and grabbed the ice cream container. "What are you complaining about now?"

"I'm taking you out for dinner."

"With or without your sunscreen?"

"Funny. What are you in the mood for?"

"I can have anything I want?" Buffy dug a spoonful of ice cream out of the container and counted the chocolate chunks. "Anything at all?"

"Uh-huh." Angel was checking the expiration dates on the yoghurt. He paused and noticed that Buffy was looking at him with a predatory grin. "Except me. You've already had me. A number of times."

Buffy lazily licked the ice cream off her spoon as she kept her gaze firmly on Angel. She almost missed his whimper. "You sure about that?" She scraped out another spoonful of ice cream. "I recall someone boasting about vampire stamina earlier today."

The ice cream container flew out of her hands as she was unceremoniously tackled. Angel's tongue plundered her mouth as his hands wantonly roamed over her body. Buffy heard a ripping sound and felt her panties fall away from her. The next sound she heard was a zipper.

Angal paused before he entered her. "Still questioning my stamina?"

"You haven't done anything yet," Buffy dared him.

Buffy groaned as she sat up. "I want to thank you for the rug burns on my butt."

Angel was stretched out beside her. "Want me to kiss them better?" His fingers played with her hair. "I love you, but what happened to your hair?"

She grimaced and rolled onto her stomach. Angel began to massage her shoulders and back. "I knew you were gonna hate it. I thought if I changed my look, it would be harder for the Council to find me." She rubbed several hair strands between her fingers. "Red is so not my colour."

"That brunette colour you had last week looked nice." Angel had reached the rug burns. "How long is it gonna look like this?" His cool tongue lapped at the braised skin.

Deep sighs escaped from Buffy. "It's not the salon stuff, so probably a couple of weeks. Can you stand to look at it for that long?" If he said no, she might be able to finagle a visit to a real salon.

"Hmmm. I'm sure I can find another body part to play with." Angel covered her body with his. "Too heavy?" His fingers counted her ribs. "You're not eating enough."

Buffy reached one hand around to smack Angel's bare bottom. "I've been a little preoccupied with running and hiding." She felt Angel's cheek on her back. "This is a gift, isn't it? Last night and today… you can't tell me you haven't been happy."

Angel kissed her shoulder blade. "Happy. Ecstatic. Thrilled. Take your pick." He kissed her other shoulder blade. "I can't explain it, Buffy. I don't know that I want to."

"How did you know?"

"Willow." He slid his arms down hers until his hands overlapped hers and their fingers laced together. In the twilight their claddagh rings lay side by side.

*

PART X
Comme tu veux. / As you wish.

Buffy snuggled into the front seat of Angel's car. She'd missed having a car. She'd missed him. Dinner plans had been interrupted when the front desk had called. Buffy had a guest. The guest turned out to be a Council informant. Angel dropped him off the balcony after Buffy gleefully picked the man's pocket. She kept the money and gave the credit cards and cell phone to Angel. She packed her clothes while Angel dumped the unconscious man at the nearest hospital. He left the credit cards and cell phone with a fencer. Angel took particular pleasure in seeing Buffy drive the man's car down a narrow crowded alley. They abandoned it in a questionable neighbourhood with a full tank of gas and the keys in the ignition. They were a block away when they heard the car's tires squeal.

The informant had been rather talkative once he realized he was dealing with a vampire. The Council's newest Watcher, Wesley Wyndham-Price, was staying at an upscale hotel in San Francisco. He had arrived from England the previous day. One of the Council's teams was on its way to Sacramento. It was time to leave. Angel stopped at his motel room to gather his clothes and make some phone calls.

One call was to Sunnydale. Buffy listend in stunned silence to Angel's side of the dialogue. She couldn't believe that he had dialed Giles' number. She was even more shocked at the normal tone of the conversation. When he hung up the phone, Angel pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Okay, now you're starting to act like Giles. What gives?"

"Did you call Willow recently?"

"Yeah," said Buffy hesitantly. "A couple days ago. But I didn't tell her where I was, and I used a pay phone. Why?"

"She's been missing since Tuesday. Giles thinks the Council snatched her to find you."

"WHAT?" Buffy thought back to her phone call with Willow. She had asked about her Mom and Oz. They had joked about her new hair colour. Buffy had confided to her best friend how she felt about the vampire who still hovered at the edges of her life. "They tapped Willow's phone? They can't do that. It's illegal. Only the police or the FBI or the CIA or some other ABC spy agency can do that." She had a sickening sobering thought. "Angel, will they hurt her?"

"I don't know."

"Don't lie to me." He had not looked at her when he answered. "Will they?"

Angel reached for Buffy's hands. "They'll try and find out what she knows."

"How?" He stroked the back of her hands with his thumbs. "Angel, how?"

"There are lots of ways to get information, Buffy. Not all of them are painful or destructive." With the exception of the police, almost everyone else practiced the "how much pain can you stand" method. The Council was not answerable to anyone. Angel had no illusions about their interrogation style.

"Tell me."

"Do you really want to know, Buffy? Sometimes not knowing… well… it's easier." He watched her ponder the choice.

"If you don't tell me, I'll imagine the worst. So, yes, I want to know."

"Okay." He drew her towards the sofa and sat down beside her. "They'll probably try to bully her. Maybe do their version of 'Good Cop/Bad Cop'. When that doesn't work, they might try some drugs." The Council's preferred method was pain followed by death.

"Like truth drugs? Does that work?"

"I don't know. They hadn't been invented when I was …" Angel bowed his head

"They're going to kill her, aren't they?" Buffy's eyes flooded with tears. "Does Giles know where she is? Can we… can we find her?" Please tell me yes. Please. Please.

Angel raised his head and said quietly, "Giles doesn't even know where to start, and she's been gone at least two days. He's trying to find her. I'm going to call in some favours."

This can't be happening. "Angel, we have to go back. We have to find her." Tell me we can find her.

"If you go to Sunnydale, they'll kill you." He whispered the words against her forehead as tears splotched her pants. "That's not going to help Willow."

"But, we have to do something," Buffy begged.

"I'm sorry, Buffy. I'm so sorry, but you can't help Willow." Angel tightened his embrace as Buffy's screamed her frustration.

Oh God. Oh God. Willow, I love you.

Angel did most of the talking as they drove to San Francisco. Buffy wanted to know everything that had happened while they had been separated. Angel reported that he had returned to LA and "taken care of" the second assassination team. Buffy didn't ask how. Angel was right. Sometimes it was easier not to know.

Giles was frantically trying to identify the members of the remaining teams, locate Willow, and reduce the volume of information on Buffy and, consequently, Angel. Unfortunately Xander had been only too happy to talk to the Council's investigators about Angel's relationship with the Slayer. His helpfulness had led to the knowledge that Buffy had regular contact with Willow. However Xander refused to believe that he was a crucial factor in Willow's abduction.

The ex-Watcher had tried to get the Sunnydale police involved. As soon as they discovered that Willow was dating a band player, they had downgraded the case from kidnapping to "probable runaway". Because the Dingoes were touring, Giles had been unable to reach Oz. He was skeptical that the Sunnydale Police Department had even bothered to find the tour schedule. Willow's parents were convinced that she was going through "a phase" and would return home when school started.

Joyce Summers had been equally uncooperative albeit unwittingly. She steadfastly stonewalled the Council's efforts to learn personal details of Buffy's life. Her distrust and disbelief were unbreachable. She clung to the illusion that her daughter was just troubled. She blamed Giles for encouraging Buffy's wild behavior. He suspected that her telephone line was also tapped However, since she had had no contact with her daughter, Giles believed the Council would monitor her movements but essentially leave her alone.

Hellmouth activity had continued to rise as word spread that the Slayer was gone. A new Watcher was arriving soon to assess the situation and determine if the new Slayer should relocate. Giles could provide little background information on the Watcher except it was a man and he was "freshly brainwashed."

Buffy smiled at the typical Giles' comment. "Aren't they watching Giles too? Listening to his phone calls? Following him around and stuff?"

Angel shrugged. "Giles said not to worry about it." He glanced at the overhead sign. "Which exit do we need?"

Buffy turned the map light on. "The next one, then we turn left at the second light."

She flipped the light off and watched the oncoming headlights streak past. Someone was going to pay for Willow. She didn't know who yet. She tapped Angel on the arm and pointed at the hotel marquee.

When they left the hotel, Mr. Wyndham-Price was missing several teeth and all of his fingers were broken. Buffy hadn't planned on dislodging his teeth, but the British man had prattled incessantly about "a Slayer's sacred duty". She had cuffed him once just to shut him up, but she put all of her Slayer strength behind the punch.

The Watcher didn't know anything about Willow's kidnapping except that it had occurred. He wasn't the least bit remorseful. In fact, the man had treated Buffy with a great deal of condescension until Angel had flashed his fangs. The inexperienced Watcher had urinated in his chair and promptly started talking.

He told them that the second team had met with a freak automobile accident before leaving Los Angeles. Buffy shot Angel a questioning look. They knew about the team going to Sacramento. That left two that were unaccounted.

"Where are the other teams?" asked Buffy.

"They're already here."

"Where here? In San Francisco? In Sunnydale?"

"I have no idea."

"Fine. Do it the hard way. I can break your fingers or he can. I promise not to lick the blood off them. That's the only difference. Take your pick."

Buffy sipped her mocha as she waited for Angel. He had sent her out of the room after she hit Wyndham-Price. She had protested, but Angel had silenced her with "Sometimes it's easier not to know." As she sat in the car, she was grateful that he had stopped her. Always nice to know I have a future in torture and maiming. Wonder if the Mafia hires females?

Angel opened the driver's door and climbed in. "You okay?" He had argued against her presence in the Watcher's room. She had overruled him by kicking in the door and throwing the surprised man into the television. Willow's kidnapping had awakened a spark in her that he hadn't seen since that morning in the mansion. Then she was fighting to protect the world. Now she was fighting to regain control of her life. Once the adrenaline rush passed, she would have to live with the consequences of her actions. Angel felt remorse and guilt every day for Angelus' actions. It took its toll. What would it do to Buffy?

She took another sip of her mocha. "Yes. And thanks."

"For what?"

"You were right. I shouldn't have… I got a little out of control in there. If you hadn't stopped me…" Wyndham-Pryce might be Puppy Chow.

"You would have stopped yourself." Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Okay. Maybe after you broke his arms and legs."

"And before I shoved a stake up his very British ass?" she rejoined. "I would have hated myself in the morning. Not that I'm real happy now." She rolled the paper cup between her hands. "Angel, I feel like I'm on a runaway train and I'm not the one driving. I keep pulling on the emergency brake and nothing happens." Buffy finished her drink. "Too bad I can't get frequent rider miles. We might actually be able to go somewhere."

"I know this is gonna sound clichéd, but sometimes life is like this. Out of control, meandering, reckless speeding. Doesn't mean it's always gonna be like this. You've got some say in what happens." Angel suddenly felt his 240-plus years "That Watcher's going to be in communicado for … several weeks, I'm guessing. Don't ask," he added as Buffy opened her mouth. "You really—"

"Don't want to know? I'm starting to get that." Buffy's stomach growled. "Hey, I got gypped out of my dinner. Does your offer still stand? 'Cause if it does, I could go for some cashew chicken."

She didn't want to talk about it any more. Angel suspected she wasn't done with the topic, but he didn't push. Instead, he started the car. "Ever been to Chinatown?"

*

PART XI
Quand tu veux. / When you want.

Several state maps were spread on the floor and bed of their latest hideout. Buffy sat on the floor pouring over the Nevada map while she ate leftover cashew chicken. Angel was examining Oregon.

"I've never been to Vegas," she said between mouthfuls. "Is it really glittery and bright with tons of casinos and slot machines and half-naked show girls? And just forget I mentioned that last part."

Angel flashed her a wicked grin. He sat opposite her drinking a glass of blood. "I guess. Didn't really pay a whole lot of attention the last time I was there." He wrinkled his nose at the pungent scent of onion.

Buffy stopped eating. "When were you in Vegas? Why were you in Vegas?"

He pretended he hadn't heard either question. She flicked a fortune cookie at him.

"Oh c'mon. Tell me. What? Were you a hit man for the mob? Ooooo. Did you meet Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin and that other guy? Wasn't Vegas built by the mob?" Buffy dug through her food for another chunk of chicken. She snagged a piece with her chopsticks. Angel neatly refolded the Oregon map and watched Buffy eat. Most of the henna had washed out of hair, but it still looked brassy instead of golden.

Buffy's attention was caught by a sidebar entitled 'Vegas Fun Facts.' She waved her chopsticks in the air as she read aloud. "Did you know they have more Elvis impersonators than any other city in America? Oh, and they have 24-hour wedding chapels there. Geez, they'll marry anybody in Vegas." She found the last piece of chicken and plopped it in her mouth. Angel unfolded the Washington map and spread it on the floor.

"Hey, do you think they'd marry an ex-Slayer and a really old vampire?" Buffy joked.

"We're already married."

Buffy thought she was going to choke. She grabbed the iced tea and hurriedly drank the rest of the bottle. "Excuse me. What did you say?"

Angel looked embarrassed. More like a deer in headlights. "I said, 'We're already married.'" Buffy still stared at him as if he'd grown a second head. "You probably want me to explain that."

She rolled her eyes. "No, I figure you married a different Vampire Slayer because hello? I think I would remember a wedding." She waited for an explanation anyway. Angel continued to stare at the map in front of him. "Okay. When did we get married?" And where was I?

"That night." Which night, Angel? His half-smile softened the blow, but his eyes filmed with tears. Oh. That night. "When you took the ring and we…"

Buffy held up a hand to stop him. "Don't." She needed to think. "We're married?" Angel nodded. "You're sure?" He nodded again. "But… I don't remember saying 'I do'." Or you asking me, for that matter.

"Old Irish custom."

"What, you Irish don't ask first? Polite people ask, 'Do you want to get married?' Other polite people say yes or no."

"Are you saying I'm not polite?" Nice non-answer, Angel.

Buffy reached across the map and touched his cheek. "You are very polite. Usually you're the epitome of polite and I'm the country bumpkin."

"But…" Angel closed his eyes so he wouldn't see the rejection in hers.

"No buts, I promise. Well, one. Two, now that I think about it. First, it's not legal. Second, Angel, why didn't you tell me?" And that, ladies and gentlemen, is tonight's jackpot question.

Why hadn't he told her? Angel wasn't sure himself. When should I have said 'Oh, by the way, we're married'? Before I killed Jenny Calendar, or after? Maybe while I was cutting pieces out of Giles? When in the last eight weeks was I supposed to tell you? "There wasn't ever a good time to say something," he mumbled. It was a hopelessly inadequate excuse.

Buffy stood and glared at him. "You mean to tell me that absolutely no point in the last six months was a good time to say I'm your wife? I could understand Angelus not wanting to own up to that. But I don't get why you wouldn't say anything. I thought you loved me. I thought you wanted to be with me. Or was that just a ploy to testdrive your curse? God, Angel, if I hadn't brought it up, would you have even told me?" She paced the length of the room.

"Yes." When I could do it properly. When we weren't running for our lives. When you knew enough about life to make an informed decision. "You're right, it's not legal. But among my people, the exchange of rings and consummation makes it real." Angel stood too, but he made no move towards her.

"So you give me a ring, sleep with me, and what? Suddenly I'm your wife? What happened to asking me if I wanted this? But no. You never ask me what I want. You just decide for both of us. Where we live, how much money we have, what we do next. YOU NEVER ASK ME."

Buffy grabbed her purse and opened the entry door. She was stifling; she needed to get out. Angel violently jerked her back into the room. She landed on the floor. "NO. You DO NOT get to run away this time." He slammed the door shut and leaned against it with his arms crossed. "You want to fight? Then we go all the way. NO backing down. NO running away."

She stood and pushed her sleeves up. "Fine. It's about time you got another ass-kicking." Buffy shifted into a defensive posture; Angel did not move.

"You want to beat me to a pulp again? Go right ahead. I won't stop you. But you and I are still going to have this argument. You want to be treated like an adult, then act like one. Adults talk about their differences and problems honestly and openly. They DON'T beat each other up and they DON'T run away."

Buffy threw up her hands in disgust. "Honesty? What do you know about honesty? When have you ever given me a straight answer? With you, everything is in code. You leave whole chunks out. But you expect me to be honest with you."

Angel rolled his eyes. "Honesty is not the same thing as telling every little detail. When have I lied to you? Truth may be black and white. But honesty comes in shades of grey. What do you want to know? Ask me. I'll tell you the truth. Question is, can you handle the truth?"

Several minutes passed in silence. "What? No burning questions? Nothing you want to know? Let me help you out. Did I screw Drusilla? Yes, before I got my soul and after I lost it. Did I like it? Nothing to write home about. She's a little mental for my taste. I like my women warm-blooded. Anything else?" Angel winced inwardly as tears glazed Buffy's eyes.

"Why are you doing this?" she pleaded.

"Why not? Isn't this what you want?"

"What I want? What I WANT? You have no clue what I want." Buffy could feel the tears building behind the pain.

"Gee, Buffy, why is that? Let me think. First you want a normal life, then you want a freaky boyfriend. You get me, I lose my soul, so you try to kill me. I get my soul back, and you STILL try to kill me. I follow you to LA and you string me along for weeks with your touch me/don't touch me attitude. You talk to Willow who says you can have what you want, and what do you do? You throw me out of your life. You let me back in. We get back together. As soon as we hit a pothole, you're making plans to run. I don't think you know what you want." Angel's frustration had been building for weeks.

Is that what happened? Buffy was momentarily thrown by his summary. "What? I was supposed to let Angelus run around loose? Tell me how many friends should have died. Or maybe we'd all be better off in Hell."

"No. You were supposed to do your job and kill me. And I'm not arguing about that. Being the Slayer is tough. But you didn't kill me – I'm assuming because I got my soul back. You told me you loved me, and then you cut me in half. And instead of sticking around and dealing with the consequences, you took off. You didn't tell anyone where you were going. You just ran away." Angel didn't know why she left. It scared him to see her so dislocated from reality. Part of him was afraid that he was the reason.

Buffy brushed the tears away from her cheeks. "I DID deal with the consequences. We made love. Your soul disappeared in a moment of happiness, but I'm the one who lived the nightmare that came after. And none of this has anything to do with the fact that you didn't tell me we were MARRIED!"

Angel sagged against the door. "I was going to ask you the next morning. But the next morning I was Angelus. And after that… you haven't wanted to deal with the last six months. If I try and bring it up, you shut me out. Or you run. Or both."

"I don't… I can't." Buffy stumbled over the emotions that threatened to pour out of her mouth.

"You can't what?" Angel's soft voice washed over her. I can't lose you again, Angel. I can't kill someone I love. He slowly walked towards her. "What can't you do?"

She sank to the floor, hugged her knees, and began to rock. "I'm scared, Angel. I'm so scared."

"Of what?" He crouched before her and waited. She had pushed these feelings and experiences so deep into her psyche, he worried that she would never be able to deal with them.

"You hurt me SO MUCH!" she sobbed. "I just wanted to die. And then … then you started your psycho act. I was your obsession, and everyone who knew me was in danger. I DID THAT. I SET ANGELUS FREE. I blamed Miss Calendar and I blamed you. But it was really ME.. When you killed her, Giles… the way he looked at me. He blamed me." Buffy stopped rocking and stared at a spot on the floor. "He never said it, but he blamed me because I didn't kill you at the mall when I had the chance. But I couldn't. And when Willow got hurt, Xander said… When he dragged Giles out of that room, he looked at me with so much hatred. Kendra died because I was so sure I could kill Angelus by myself. And my mom, she thought I was being rebellious, that I was defying her. I tried to explain and she wouldn't listen."

Buffy lay on the floor. "That day, the day I went to kill you… she told me if I left the house, don't ever come back. I had to leave. I had to stop you. I had to stop Acathla. It was the end of the world, and my mother told me to never come home again." Buffy's despairing sobs ripped at Angel's heart.

When she quieted, she continued. "Whistler said once you opened the portal to Hell, only you could close it. I didn't understand until I saw you pull the sword out. And then you were you again." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "And we were going to Hell. So I … I … I …"

"You told me to close my eyes. Then you sliced me open…" Angel could still feel the pain of that betrayal.

"Then I threw the sword into Acathla's mouth. The door to Hell was closed. The world was saved. You had your soul. And I had nothing left to lose." Except myself.

Angel set a cup of tea in front of Buffy. She wrapped her hands around the hot cup and held it close to her chest as if she were trying to steal its warmth. Angel sat on the other side of the table and considered how to ask his next question.

"So why did you leave me bleeding on the mansion floor?"

Buffy flinched. Guess I could have phrased that better. "I felt like everyone was disappointed in me: my mom, my friends, Giles. The one person who wasn't, who loved me unconditionally, was you, Angel. But, I thought I could never have you. When you were Angelus, it was easier to accept that you were gone too. But, when you got your soul back, I realized that it was never gonna be the same between us. I loved you so much, and I would never be able to share that love with you like I wanted to. And I just couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't be a daughter, a student, a friend, a Slayer, a lover. I couldn't. So I left."

The ex-Slayer huddled beneath her blanket and sipped her tea. After a long moment of silence, she said, "Can I ask you something?"

Angel smiled at her. "Anything. I'll even tell you the truth." Buffy did not smile in return.

"Why did you come after me?"

"That's easy. I love you." She scowled at him. "Really. That's why." The scowl deepened. She wanted more explication. "You were crying when you ran out of the mansion. When I finally got off the floor, and realized what fun Angelus had been up to, I had to see you. I needed to talk to you, tell you how sorry I was for the things I'd done, beg for your forgiveness But you were gone. I did some eavesdropping and guessed that you'd runaway. I didn't know what you were feeling. I didn't know if you ever wanted to see me again after what I'd done. But I figured I could at least watch out for you."

"Besides," Angel added as he touched her claddagh ring, "I wasn't going to abandon you or give you up without a fight."

"I think we just did the fight." Buffy rolled her neck and massaged her shoulders. "And look, we're still alive. Well one of us is and one of us is dead. But we started out that way so nothing's really changed there." She stood and took the empty cup to the sink.

Buffy filled the sink with soapy water. She liked this domestic chore. It was a chance to think without appearing to think. They had talked about a lot of things tonight. They had said some hurtful things too. Now, she needed to think about it. Angel's hands covered hers in the soapy water. Where did he come from?

"I'm suddenly in severe need of a drink," he announced. "And not the kind with blood. If I go out, will you be here when I get return?" He even sounds nervous.

Buffy stepped back into his embrace. "Yes, I'll be here." He looked relieved. "What if I'd said no?"

Angel kissed the crown of her head. "I would have been in severe need of a lot of drink. Can I get you anything? Non-alcoholic I mean."

She frowned. "I'm not a child, Angel. Please don't treat me like one." She felt his body tense. "I'm not starting round two, I just… it's my life too. Let me make some of the decisions. I'm not always going to make the right one, but they'll be mine." And my recent experience in hair colouring is a perfect example.

He relaxed a little. "I'm sorry. You're right. I have been deciding for you. I thought it was best. And in some ways, you still are a child. Hey," he could see her protest forming, "how old am I? You're always gonna be younger than me. I know you're the Slayer. I know that you can beat me in any fight. There's never been a Slayer like you. But in some respects, you are still a child."

Angel tilted his head and chuckled as he saw the pout. "Buffy, you are still incredibly naïve about men. And you're still trying to figure out who you are. Which is one reason why the last six months have been so hard. It's part of growing up."

Buffy rinsed off the dishes and stacked them neatly in the dish rack. Angel's hands rested on her hips. "So you're saying what exactly?"

He caught the playful tone of her voice. "I'm saying," he whispered in her ear, "that you're not old enough to legally drink." Angel kissed her cheek. "I won't be long."

Just before he closed the door, he heard Buffy say, "About the men part, does that mean I should be shopping around, maybe keeping my options open? Cause I noticed this hottie at the store the other day…" Her giggle was drowned out by Angel's growl.

*

EPILOGUE
Je suis là et ailleurs. / I am there and elsewhere.

By unspoken agreement, they rarely mention their lives after her seventeenth birthday and before he found her in the LA bus terminal. They change locations every few weeks. Buffy refuses to stay in better accommodations. (She won't take Angel's money). Angel refuses to stay in the fleabag motels she can afford. (There is too much vermin – human, insect, and demon.) They compromise. Buffy waits tables during the better-paying night shifts to pay for her food, one third of the rent, and other necessities. Angels escorts her to and from the various jobs. She never asks him what he does while she works. She doesn't need to. She can feel him watching her, guarding her, every night.

Angel regularly contacts Giles. He asks the same questions and receives the same answers. Giles always inquires after Buffy's welfare. The ex-Watcher and ex-Slayer have not spoken to each other since she left him in the library with Willow, Kendra, Xander, and Cordelia.

In one of these conversations, Giles informs Angel that Willow's body was dumped on Xander's front porch. She was raped and tortured. Within the week, Xander hangs himself. Angel tells Buffy that Willow and Xander are dead. She screams until she is hoarse and then vomits for two days. Buffy doesn't ask how they died; Angel doesn't volunteer the information.

In another conversation, Giles reports that the new Slayer is not "working out well". When Angel asks for clarification, the ex-Watcher comments, "Faith is Buffy but with a lot more attitude, a libidinous lifestyle, and no moral direction." Buffy's opinion on this is "Way to go, Faith!"

Buffy phones her mother once a week and leaves the same message on the answering machine. "Hi. It's me. I'm fine. I love you, Mom. Maybe I can talk to you next time. Bye." Her mother never picks up the phone regardless of when Buffy calls.

They are halfway to Canada when the last Council team finds them. In the ensuing fight, Buffy is captured. It takes Angel four days to find her. When he does, he discovers her sitting in a cage with three dismembered bodies and no weapon. He approaches her cautiously.

"Who are you?" she asks as she watches him unlock the door and carefully step around the broken corpses. His human features involuntarily slip into his vampiric face.

"I'm Angel. I'm going to take you home." Angel is disturbed as he watches her fingers draw pictures in the congealed and crusted body fluids. "Do you know who you are?" he asks. He is surprised by her answer.

"Yes," she says dreamily. "My name is Buffy the Vampire Whore." She looks at him and smiles. "You're a vampire."

"Yes." Angel guides her out of the cage.

"I loved a vampire once. His name was Angelus." Buffy giggles airily. "I'm his wife." She giggles again, and Angel thinks of Drusilla.

After a few days, Buffy seems to be herself. She says she remembers nothing of her captivity. When she asks Angel about it, he tells her that they kept her unconscious. She accepts this answer, and he believes all is well.

The night they cross into Canada, Buffy stops him and says, "They wanted to show me how much better it was to be with a human man instead of a vampire. That's why I killed them."

Angel doesn't know how to respond, so he says nothing. He wonders if she will ever tell him what happened in that cage. He worries that she will.

During his next call to Giles, Angel discloses that the last team has been eliminated. Giles' audible sigh of relief travels 2500 miles. The ex-Watcher is returning to England. "Do you think Buffy would speak to me?"

Angel hands her the phone. She looks at it dispassionately. "Who is it?"

"Giles."

"Giles? Do I know a Giles? Let me think about this." Buffy taps a nail against the phone's receiver. "Is he the one who told the Council I had been kidnapped by the Scourge of Europe? Or is he the one who told the Council that Willow was willing to re-curse you again? Oh, I know. He's the one who told them all about us in the first place." She stops the tapping. "I don't think I know anyone called Giles." Buffy releases the phone. It clatters loudly to the floor.

Angel picks it up and listens as the ex-Watcher sputters apologies on the other end.

"Maybe next time, Giles." Angel hangs up the phone and reaches for Buffy.

He can't imagine life without her. He once asked Giles what happened to Slayers who were turned. There had been an uncomfortably long silence before Giles said, "I don't know. If the Council has any records, I've never heard of them. I imagine it's happened though. Has she been … Are you thinking about… Angel, why do you want to know?" he had finally blurted. Angel had assured him that he was just curious and let the matter drop.

Buffy trails a finger along his jaw and follows it with a kiss to his bare chest. "Where are you?"

"Right here with you." Angel pulls her body flush against his so she can feel his arousal.

"You were elsewhere," she accuses.

"You were there, too," Angel answers before he enters her welcoming body. "You're always there with me."

THE END

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