Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or any of the characters mentioned in the cannon.
A/N: Yes I know another story. Musie just didn't want to put this story on the back burner, so like a good little writer (slave) I gave into her demands. Lol. Please enjoy this first chapter. :D
I'm not too happy with the summary, but it was the only way I could think of on how to explain the story. Lol. I'm sure all authors go through that though lol.
Buffy swung the trashcan lid. The swishing sound it made as she swung it through the air, and the solid noises that reverberated throughout the otherwise silent night, helped to vent some of the pain and anguish that burned in her chest.
She'd only done this once before, when her mom was dating Ted the obsessive, abusive robot. With every hit, her thoughts whispered his name. Angel. Why? Why did he have to leave?! Why did the damned gypsies have to be so stupid as to put a clause in a curse on a man, demon who could under the right circumstances live forever?! Why did it have to be her fault?! Why did the best night of her life have to be stomped on so thoroughly by the demon?!
Delivering one final hit upside the fledges head, Buffy dropped the metal lid, and drove her stake through his unbeating heart. Withdrawing her stake Buffy watched as the vampire disintegrated into a cloud of dust.
Buffy stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jacket, walking out of the park, walking past the creaking swings that swung in the slight wind. Buffy glanced up at the stars. She hadn't seen Angel, Angelus since she'd blown up The Judge. She couldn't deny a certain sense of satisfaction at having kicked him in the balls, making him fall to his knees. Unfortunately, the satisfaction was nothing compared to the pain she was feeling in her heart. The satisfaction had been fleetingly brief, and the pain was forever constant, just like her love for Angel was, is.
Buffy hoisted herself up into the tree outside her window. Climbing up into the branches, before jumping lightly onto the roof, creeping over to her window, slipping her fingers under the small crack she had left. Opening her window, slipping into her dark room, Buffy shut the window drawing the blinds as she got changed for bed.
Silent tears slid from behind Buffy's closed eyes to slide down her smooth cheeks. She couldn't think about what tomorrow would bring. She had to live in the moment. For the moment, although painful, and scary, it was far less painful then the fondness of tomorrows and sweet promises lost.
Angelus leaned against a tree on a far side of the park. His keen eyesight easily seeing in clear detail his petite blonde Slayer, as she used a trashcan lid to pulverise a fledgling, a pitiful minion, one of his newly risen.
She was deadly lethal in her hits, each movement radiating power, and pain. The pain was clearly visible on her face, and in every swing. She never could hide her emotions. It was one of the first things Soul-boy had noticed about her, when he first clamped eyes on her.
He could practically see the pain coming off her like an aura that surrounded her being, much like her love for his lily livered soul did. It was a major attraction for a vampire, finding someone that was so open with their emotions. It was that, which initially made him go after Drusilla. She was his favourite toy. There was nothing like the pride of knowing that he had created something so evil, and twisted from something that had started out so innocent, and pure.
Drusilla didn't, couldn't hold a candle to Buffy though. Dru had never glowed with the force of her emotions, nor did she have the strength to fight back.
Angelus smirked as the stake slid home, turning the unfortunate, expendable minion to dust. He followed after Buffy, keeping enough distance between them to make sure she didn't sense him. His eyes drifted to the soft, seductive sway of her hips. He felt his cock twitch in mutual appreciation.
At least his first fuck in a century had been from an attractive woman. He had to give the soul props for that. And for her first time, despite what he had eluded to in his tone, she had been a great fuck. Never had he entered anyone so tight, or so hot, or with those muscles, he hadn't realised a woman could be blessed with muscles like that.
Angelus watched on from across the street, as Buffy slipped into her room, with a practised ease, drawing the blinds blocking her from his view.
Angelus frowned. He wasn't entirely sure what to do about her. At first it had been simple. He loathed what she had made him feel. Vampires were not supposed to feel like a weak human, nor were they to become The Slayers lapdog. So he hated her, loathed her, so the solution? Torture her, kill her.
But then after a few days had passed, the anger, and loathing dissipated. It wasn't after all strictly her fault. It was Soul-boys, with his guilt, and gentle caresses, and hesitantly soft spoken endearments, and words of love. The soulful pain in the ass that he was ruined his perfect reputation for the finer aspects of demonic life.
There was nothing the whiny ass soul could do to make amends, and if he could he'd torture the cowardly little bastard. Unfortunately that would never happen.
Confusion had taken the place of the desire to totally destroy her mentally, and physically. What did he want from her? Did he want anything from her? He couldn't stop thinking about her. His mind was totally focused on her. On trying to decide what he wanted from his latest obsession.
He idly thought of trying to see if he could make the strongest Slayer in history into another Drusilla. The idea of course, seeing if he could make a replica of his original master piece, but the mental image of having two crazy vampiress' vying for his attention made him shudder. Dru was great, but there was a reason, a very good reason why he had sired Spike for Dru when she had expressed an interest in having the heartbroken pathetic poet as her mate. It kept him from staking his favoured creation, when her insanity tried his patience.
He hadn't flirted with Dru since the confusion started. Thoughts of his petite blonde, making all thoughts of the willowy brunette repugnant in comparison.
He'd seen gold when he'd heard Spike and Drusilla talking. Talking about his Slayer. Conspiring of ways to kill her behind his back. He'd beaten Spike almost to death, would have staked him to if Drusilla hadn't grabbed his arm, sinking her fangs into his muscular bicep, in an effort to save him. It had earned her the brunt of his rage. When his temper had run out, both his children knew that they were to in no way interfere with The Slayer.
Angelus growled at the memories. The light that illuminated the blind turned off. His children had grown wayward in his absence. Thinking themselves above the childe/ sire bond, but they'd learn, or die by his hand. Disobedient children were not to be tolerated, or you'd end up with a stake in your back, the moment you let your guard down. It was to be expected, it was a vampires nature. If you can't control your own children then your weak and vampires aren't lead by the weak.
Angelus strolled across the street with all the grace, and stealth of the experienced predator that he was. Agilely leaping up into the tree. Effortlessly landing on the branch closest to the window of Buffy's room.
He could scent her sorrow coming from the room like heat waves. His cock was achingly hard, straining against the confines of his soft leather pants. Human emotions were always arousing for vampires, pain, sorrow and anger more so then the others.
Though he didn't need his nose to tell him that. He could hear it. She was sobbing, the sound was muffled so probably into her pillow. It was even more attractive to him, knowing that he was the reason for her passionate sorrow, and pain. It made it all the more personal, and intimate.
Angelus groaned. Undoing the snaps to his pants, he palmed his ridged pulsing cock. Her vanilla scent mixed in with her pain, and sorrow, becoming too much for his self control. He imagined it was Buffy's little hand stroking up, and down his cock, making the turgid muscle twitch in appreciation. Her hot mouth kissing, licking, nipping, and nuzzling a sizzling path up from his lower belly up his chest, to his neck, trailing up his chin to finally meet his waiting lips. Her pain, and sorrow surrounding him in an arousing blanket of sensation. Her hot salty tears landing on his cool skin.
He lapped at the tears on her cheeks wanting to taste her watery sorrow. The taste made him groan low in his throat his cock twitching in anticipation of her tight, hot wet heat. Her desire mingles in with the other scents as his finger played with her clit. She rolls her hips into his caresses.
He moved her hand positioning himself at her entrance. The tip of his cock feeling the slick heat of her readiness. "I'm going to fuck you now." He said his voice thick, and husky with desire. He thrust up into her. Her tight sheath stretching to accommodate his wide girth, a small whimper of pain coming from her lips.
Angelus kissed her, ravaging her mouth, making her forget about the slight pain her almost virgin body felt at his penetration. He moaned as he thrust his hips. His strokes getting longer, and harder. Her velvety walls quivering around him as she approached her climax.
Angelus felt his balls tighten, pulling up closer to his body. He stroked harder, squeezing his cock with his hand. The image of ripping into Buffy's throat, draining her dry was his undoing. His unneeded breath hitched in his throat, as he came. His dead seed spilling on his silk shirt and on his leather pants.
Standing up his tight leather pants fitting snugly to his hips even though the pants were undone. Jumping from the branch onto the Summers roof. He pulled up the window and slipped into Buffy's room.
The scent of her sorrow still hung heavily in the room. Angelus picked up her discarded shirt, that had been left carelessly on the floor. Using it to clean himself up. He did up his pants. Dropping the shirt back on the floor. He grimaced slightly as he tucked in his silk shirt. He hoped his minions would be able to get the damned stains out of his clothes.
His eyes lighted on the bed. Where Buffy slept, blissfully unaware of the vampire in her room. Angelus forcefully bit back a growl of arousal, when his eyes rested on her face. She was an erotic picture of pain, and sorrow. Her cheeks were still flushed, and the tears dried in tracks down her smooth cheeks.
Suddenly glad for following his impulse to bring parchment, and a stick of charcoal. Angelus pulled them out of his pocket, setting the cloth with the charcoal on her bedside table, along with the parchment and an envelope.
He sat down on the bed reaching out, and brushing some stray hair to the side. He cupped her cheek softly in his palm, careful not to smudge the dried tears. He was surprised when she nuzzled his palm. Angel coming from her lips in a soft whispering sigh.
Moving his hand away disappointment curling in his belly, as well as an emotion that Angel had recognised as jealousy, that she said the souls name, not his. A cruel smirk curled his lips 'Oh but she would. It would be the perfect way to get revenge on the soul.'
Picking up the parchment, and unwrapping his charcoal, he set to work. His fingers holding the charcoal with an easy confidence. Moving in sure strokes on the parchment. His keen eyes moving from the parchment to the sleeping blonde beauty on the bed.
It was close to an hour before the sun would rise when he finished the drawing. Looking from it to the woman in the bed, he smiled. 'Perfect.'
Struck with a sudden inspiration, he grabbed a pen, that was precariously close to the edge of the table. He turned the parchment over scribbling down a quick missive. Carefully sliding the parchment into the envelope, he placed it beside the digital alarm clock were it would be impossible to miss.
Looking back down at his Slayer, he leaned down pressing his cool lips to hers, ever so softly so that the contact wouldn't wake her. He smiled when he felt her lips respond to his light caress. Her heart still beating the peaceful rhythm of sleep. Pulling back he watched fascinated and smug when she rolled over curling her body around him. Her hand coming to rest on his knee.
Smoothing a hand down her silky blond hair he got up leaving the room, closing the window as he went. Leaving only the envelope and her soiled shirt as any indication that he had ever been there.
As Angelus walked, heading home before the dawn. A plan began to solidify in his mind, the pieces falling together in his quick mind. 'But how to make the pawns move the way I want them too.' Anticipation thrummed through him. This was one of the best parts of the game.
Buffy came awake with a lazy stretch. Grimacing at the dried tears she could feel on her face. Scrubbing a hand over her face to ease the feeling, she rolled out of bed. Picking up the discarded top with the intention of throwing it in the laundry hamper.
"What the hell?"Buffy muttered, throwing the top on her bed so that she could get a better look at the stains that adorned her shirt. "I know this didn't happen out on patrol." Buffy grumbled. Turning around to turn off the alarm that was becoming louder, so that it could no longer be ignored.
Turning it off, she picked up a yellow envelope. 'What's going on? I haven't seen this before?' With trembling fingers she flipped open the unsealed flap, and pulled out the yellow paper inside. She almost dropped it when she saw what it was.
It was her, a charcoal drawing of her face, as she slept. "Oh God." Buffy whimpered. She could see her sorrow, and pain, and the desire the artist had for her at that moment. With wide horrified eyes she turned back to the shirt. Suddenly knowing what it was that was staining her shirt. "Oh God!"
She knew who it was who had been in her room, and it terrified her. She'd slept right through it. he'd been in her room, and, and, and had jacked off, whilst watching her. She shivered with a raw fear that only women tend to feel. What if he'd…but he hadn't? With wide horrified eyes she checked her panties and breathed a sigh of relief. 'He hadn't.'
Buffy sank down on the bed, still clutching the drawing. 'Oh God.' She turned it around not wanting to see the image anymore. She had hoped to see nothing but the yellow of the paper, instead she was confronted with a graceful, elegant, masculine penmanship, that came straight from the seventeen hundreds; which was something she knew only because Angel had been born in that century.
Reluctantly Buffy read the message that her ex-boyfriend left for her.
Asleep in thy bed. Erotic in thy sorrowful plight.
In tears of passionate sorrow.' -A
Buffy frowned scratching at her cheeks. It obviously had something to do with his watching her last night. But the thought of Angelus writing her poetry was laughable, and ranked high on the impossibilities list.
Buffy sighed, she was seriously freaked out. She had never even thought that Angel's invitation would be extended to Angelus, but she supposed it should be obvious. They were essentially the same body, and Angelus would have been sharing the body, unlike her poor Angel.
She took a couple of deep breaths, centring herself, trying to find some level of calm. She needed to be calm for her mother. It'd do no good to cause her to worry about something that she couldn't explain to her, even if she did get permission from Giles.
She'd already been committed to an institute for the mentally insane, after she had come home after blowing up her school gymnasium, ranting about vampires to her family when she had gotten her Watcher killed, and her almost boyfriend Pike.
Buffy got up, and headed for the shower. It would give her a few more minutes to calm herself, before seeing her mother.
'What am I going to do? My mother lives here, and she is more defenceless then I am in this situation. It was bad enough worrying about her when she was out after dark, but now; now she isn't safe in her own home!'
Buffy stepped out of the shower, wrapping her fluffy white towel around her. Looking at herself in the mirror, she nodded to her reflection. She looked a lot better.
Grabbing her hairdryer, and her straightener, Buffy set about doing her hair. Once she had it blow dried, and straightened, she stepped into the clothes she'd picked out for the day. Having done that she twisted her hair up into a French twist, and stuck two sharpened chopsticks into her hair. They were fashionable, and served the dual purpose of hidden stakes, should she need them.
Buffy applied her makeup. Striving to make everyone believe that she was fine. Until she got to the library then she could talk to Giles, and her friends.
Buffy entered her room, her eyes landing on the soiled pink shirt that was still splayed out on her bed. Buffy felt a tremor of fear run through her. She snatched up the top, and threw it in her laundry hamper, before the fear could destroy her newly restored calm. If her mom could turn a blind eye to blood, she probably wouldn't notice dried semen stains.
Her attention was brought to her Claddagh, and she felt her eyes fill with tears at the sight of the beautiful ring nestled on her left ring finger. Buffy cradled the hand, bringing it up to her face. She kissed the ring. With a shaky whimper Buffy gently pulled the ring from her finger. Placing it in a china bowl, the heart facing towards her. She couldn't wear it. Not right now. Not with the threat of her Angel's demon terrorising her, and her friends. Plus she didn't want to give him the idea that she belonged to him.
She kept on the cross though, that way it felt, like he was still protecting her, even if he couldn't physically do so. She'd wear the leather coat, so that she could pretend that the cool soft leather was Angel holding her, but something like that screamed possession.
Buffy walked back over to the bed picking up the drawing, debating whether or not to take it to school. Shrugging Buffy placed it carefully in a plastic pocket at the back of one of her folders, before tossing the folder back into her book bag.
Buffy walked into the kitchen dropping her book bag by the door. She sniffed the air appreciatively. "Ooh wow! Cooked breakfast!" Buffy moaned, as her belly rumbled. "What's the occasion?"
"Well you're doing so well here. Your studying, your grades are improving, although I do think you could do better if you put your mind to it, and you're not fighting. So I just wanted to show you I appreciate that you're making an effort." Joyce said laying down a plate piled high with waffles, and a bottle of golden syrup.
Buffy immediately felt a familiar stab of guilt. She hated lying to her mom. She missed the days when she had a very open relationship with her mother. All that changed on her fifteenth birthday; the day she was called. For three years Buffy's birthday=BAD.
She often wondered if it was the same for her predecessors, or if it was just a thing unique to Buffy.
She ate her waffles like a woman starved. She loved her waffles, she could never get enough of them.
"Buffy!" Joyce reprimanded, amused.
"Sorry mom." Buffy apologised after she'd swallowed. "I just love your waffles." She glanced at the time. "I've got to make a move, if I don't want Snyder shoving a weeks' worth of detention down my throat." Buffy grumbled standing up, dumping her dirty dishes in the sink.
Joyce grimaced in disgust at the mention of that horrid man. "Buffy I have time to drive you this morning?" Joyce said the offer clear in her voice.
Buffy smiled and sat back down at the table. "Sure." It had been to long since she'd had any Buffy mommy/daughter time.
"Buffy, has something been bothering you? You seem a little down these past couple of days."
'Damn I knew this was too good to be true! Why couldn't you ask me tomorrow or tonight even?' Buffy thought dully. Her mind conjuring up the image of the soiled shirt.
"You aren't having boy trouble, are you?"
Buffy hesitated for a fraction of a second, not long enough for Joyce to pick up on it, weighing her decision. "Nah mom. Just teenage girl stuff." Buffy said with an overly cheery smile, that was obviously fake. She felt a keen sense of loss when her mother failed to notice, giving her daughter a relieved smile in return.
There was a time when Joyce Summers would have picked up on the fake smile in a heartbeat.
"Ok. Mom thanks." Buffy said as they pulled up outside the school.
"You're welcome hunny. Have a good day!" Joyce called as Buffy exited the car halfway through her sentence in true teenager fashion.
Buffy gave her mom a small wave to acknowledge that she'd heard her mom as Willow bounded over to her. A welcoming smile on her face. The red head gave an enthusiastic wave to Joyce before she pulled out into the traffic.
"She asked me today." Buffy sighed, turning to face Willow, whose face immediately sobered.
"What did you tell her?" Willow asked sympathetically.
"Teenager stuff." Buffy shrugged. Walking with Willow up the steps to the school. "Something happened last night, and I really want to tell you about it, but I don't want to go into it more than once."
Willow nodded in understanding, even as curiosity ate at her insides. She didn't press for information though, condescending to wait until the lunch time Scooby session. Mentally the red head calculated the hours until the midday break. "Ooh look its Oz." Willow exclaimed as she spotted the dark haired guitar player. All thoughts on what could have happened last night shoved to the side in her excitement.
"Ooh the almost boyfriend." Buffy said pleased for her best friend. Glad to see that her friend was showing an interest in someone that saw her as a woman, not a childhood friend. It was also a huge comfort to see that even though her world was unravelling before her eyes, the outside world was still holding strong.
Willow looked back at Buffy, who smiled. "Go on. Go reel him in with the Willow charm."
"Are you sure? I can always catch up with Oz at recess , or, or, or at The Bronze…"
"I'll see you in class Will." Buffy said with a reassuring smile, continuing into the school building, as Willow walked back down the stairs weaving her way towards Oz.
"So what do you think?" Buffy asked of her Watcher moments after explaining the drawing, but she held back the fact that Angelus had pleasured himself at her expense. She felt too uncomfortable telling the closest thing she had to a father about it. She'd tell Willow later, maybe, if an opportunity arose.
"Aside from the fact that Angel is a sick freak?" Xander spat, missing the flinch his harsh words caused Buffy.
Giles studied the drawing of his Slayer. The drawing was beautiful in a sick way. The desire for her that seemed to emanate of the parchment made him uncomfortable. Flicking the page over, he was glad for something that he was comfortable with. Giles cleared his throat. "Ah yes. Asleep in thy bed. Erotic in thy sorrowful plight. In tears of passionate sorrow. This is a line from a famous demonic poet. Sorrows Call."
"Well at least I know he's not writing me poetry, right?" Buffy asked looking at her friends.
"Yeah cause dead boy is scary enough without him composing sonnets." Xander quipped, getting a weak smile from Buffy.
Giles removed his glasses, cleaning the lenses. He was more concerned that Angelus was writing poetry at all. Borrowed, or otherwise. The demon never did anything without a purpose, so the poetry had to do something in furthering the demons plans for Buffy, who he was certain had become Angelus' latest obsession. "Yes well, I still think this is of some concern. The poem Sorrows Calling was written about the vampires human…mistress. I've got the poem right here…" Giles said disappearing into his office only to come back out with a book spread open across his arm for balance.
"Does anyone else find it freaky that Giles keeps an occult book of poems written by demons?" Xander asked his two friends. Nodding to himself, when he received a unanimous nod from the two girls.
"Children please this is important." Giles scolded, before turning back to the book he cradled on his arm. Asleep in thy bed. Erotic in thy sorrowful plight. In tears of passionate sorrow." Giles quoted again, this time reading it from its spot in amongst the rest of its poem. " Basically, I believe that Angelus is, is, is telling you, that, arr, he finds your pain, and sorrow desirable." Giles finished uncomfortably.
"There you go Buffster, all you have to do is stop being all sad and mopey, and Angel will stop writing you poetry in the middle of the night." Xander joked. "What?" He asked innocently when Willow sent him a scathing glare.
"Don't listen to him Buffy. He's a well meaning fool, at the worst of times. We'll figure something out. Promise." Willow tried to reassure her friend.
"Thanks Willow." Buffy murmured, glancing at the book with a tentive interest. Catching sight of the title, Buffy filed it away for future reference as Willow led her out of the library towards their next class as the bell went. Xander trailing behind.
Buffy didn't know why, but she felt a sense of curiosity about the poem. She didn't really have an interest in poetry outside, listening to Angel's soothing voice as he recited from books, or memory. So she'd come back and read it when she had the chance, and there was no danger of being caught by anybody. Even though something told her that she'd probably regret it.
"She was so exquisite. The perfect image of pain, and sorrow…"
"So you didn't kill her then." Spike grumbled surly , cutting off his sires account of his confrontation with The Slayer. He'd thought that Angelus would have at least raped, and killed the damned bint. His blood lusted for vengeance, at being put in a wheelchair. And here his sire was playing merry games with the bitch, like he'd done with his Dru.
"No. Of course not." Angelus taunted, as if it should be obvious.
"I know you've been out of the game for awhile, but we do still kill people you know."
"Spike, Spike, Spike, my boy!" Angelus said shaking his head in mock disappointment. "You can't just come out, and kill this girl. She's the strongest Slayer ever to be recorded. I mean, pfft, look at you. you're in a bloody wheelchair. Nah, you can't just attack this girl head on." Angelus paused here for effect. "To kill this girl you have to love her."
"So you are…going to kill her then?" Spike asked with a frown.
"No my Spike. Nothing so simple. You want to hurt her, just like you did me." Drusilla said with a happy smile, that lit up her face.
"No one knows me like you do Dru." Angelus said returning the smile, with a smirk. "But no, well maybe a little. I never do the same thing twice." A malicious smile curving his lips.
Dru smiled in delight not at all worried about what her sire had in store for The Slayer. Whatever his decision it would be worthy of him, and the punishment that The Slayer deserved.
Spike on the other hand wasn't so convinced of his Sires plans. The blonde haired bitch had temporally crippled him, which had made him the brunt of many jokes in the demon community, and Angelus didn't have any reservations about teasing him about it.
He wanted the bitch tied down for his torturing pleasure. He'd take great pleasure in knocking that bitch off her high horse before he killed her, and it would just be an added bonus that he'd muck with his Sires grand plans for the little cunt. Angelus had grown weak during the years stuck under the soulful ponce, and he'd take great delight in proving it to the rest of the demon community.
Angelus watched with narrowed eyes as Spike, and Drusilla moved away. His eyes focused on Spike. His youngest child was a stupid bastard. There were many times throughout the years that he wished that he hadn't sired the poet, but there were just as many that he was glad that he had. Spike would give him trouble, of that he was certain.
Drusilla he was certain was back under his thumb. It didn't take much to prove dominance, and supremacy in her broken mind. Spike though, Spike he was sure would try to undermine him, and go after Buffy on his own. Spike had after all spent the last hundred years as the Alfa male. Something that wasn't easy to give up. He after all had never fully accepted Darla back as the Alfa, after her cowardly retreat in the barn, leaving him to die at the hands of Holtz and his minions. Nothing she'd done had been able to re-establish her standing, after he'd stumbled upon her after years of travelling the world alone.
Buffy twirled on the dance floor, letting the steady beat of the music wash away her worries. She was glad she had let Willow, and Xander convince her to come out to The Bronze. That had been hours ago, and her two friends had left for the night, needing the extra sleep for a test in maths tomorrow.
She knew that she should leave for her patrol, but for the moment she couldn't bring herself to leave the music that was so effectively relieving her of her worries.
Buffy was unaware of the male attention she was garnering as she swayed to the proactive beat the words washing over her. She swayed with a grace, and power that was like a moth to a flame.
Buffy's movements hesitated, and then faltered to a complete stop, much to the disappointment of the crowd of males that had formed a semicircle around her, vying for her attention. Her reality rudely crashed in around her, as she felt the familiar tingle of her senses. This wasn't the normal vampire tingle though. No this was the one that started at the base of her spine, and spread out to encompass her entire being.
She swung around her eyes searching the dully lit club. In time to see him walking out the door with a blond haired teenager. The smirk he threw in her direction causing her to grind her teeth together in frustration, as jealousy coursed through her. Buffy made to sweep from the club intent on saving the girl, even though she wished she could walk away. She wasn't prepared to see him yet. She still needed time, and the events of this morning were still fresh in her mind.
Buffy was stopped in her valiant efforts to save the blonde woman by one of her admires who had chosen to watch her dancing instead of joining in on the fun. "Hey there, you're looking sizzling tonight."
Buffy stared at him in disbelief. "Sorry I have to go." Buffy said dismissively. Attempting to walk around him only to have the tipsy stranger block her path.
"What's the rush, we got all night." He slurred.
Buffy frowned up at the man that was about a foot taller than her. She really, really didn't have time for this. Pushing past him making the man teeter drunkenly before falling to the floor, Buffy continued out of The Bronze moving quicker than before. If she didn't hurry she'd be too late. She didn't even bother to look back at the man that had placed a woman's life in mortal danger.
Buffy rushed out the door that Angelus and the woman had taken, and out into the adjoining alley. Only to mentally curse, as she was in time to watch Angelus drop the lifeless body of the once brimming with life human being to the floor like she was nothing, but the rubbish you bin when you've finished the tasty treat.
Angelus took his time in turning around to face Buffy. He'd been furious when he'd seen her dancing like she hadn't a care in the world, like she hadn't accepted a Claddagh wedding band from Angel a few days ago, like he wasn't her top priority. It was then that the blonde bimbo had walked over to him, Bianca he thought she'd called herself. It hadn't taken much convincing to get her to come outside with him.
"I thought you'd be here sooner Buff, I'm disappointed. I thought you cared about the lives of your fellow man?" Buffy clamped her teeth together, refusing to respond. Mentally cursing the drunk man with every word she knew, and then some she'd heard from her father, even going so far as to make some up. "What's a matter Buff? Cat got your tongue?" Angelus mocked, moving towards her with a steady predatory grace.
Buffy stood her ground 'never show them fear' running through her mind, as she glared stakes at him. "Her." Angelus jerked his thumb to the side in the direction of the dead girl, not bothering to give the wrapping the honour of his brown gaze. Buffy gritted her teeth at the lack of respect, her own hazel gaze falling to the victim, a wave of guilt hitting her as her mind recognised the failure to save the girls life, as was her duty. "Don't sweat your pretty little head over it Buff. She wasn't worth your effort. She was the easiest meal of the century. I didn't think they came that stupid."
Angelus staggered back as Buffy powerful little fist hit him in the cheek. Swallowing the blood that had pooled in his mouth from the cuts his fangs had punctured on his cheek. Angelus retaliated with a backhanded fist sending Buffy flying into the alley wall, a crack appearing in the bricks from the force.
Buffy spat blood onto the dirty alley floor. Her eyes fixed on Angelus. Buffy kicked out with her leg catching Angelus in the knee sending him to the ground with a pained groan. Angelus grabbed her calves literally lifting her feet out from under her sending her crashing to the ground. The wind knocked out of her, and her head hitting the ground with thump that resounded through her brain leaving her feeling a little disorientated.
Buffy got back up slowly under the watchful eyes of her boyfriend turned enemy. She shook her head to clear the remaining cobwebs, before punching him again, landing a glancing blow to the side of his head. Angelus snarled getting annoyed. Executing an uppercut which would have sent Buffy head over heels had he not grabbed her wrist pulling her to him, his arms folding around her.
Buffy was tense in his arms, every muscle ready to fight him should there be any indication that he was planning to do her harm. One arm was wrapped securely around her waist, and the other on her upper back so that his hand was buried in her silky blonde hair. His fingers gently probing the small bump on the back of her skull, which was already starting to heal. "I didn't intend to get rough with you tonight lover." Angelus murmured soothingly, shifting his face back to his human countenance. For what he was planning he didn't want her Slayer instincts kicking into gear. His hand running over her head, petting her.
Buffy shifted her stance slightly, but didn't reply, she was still a bit dizzy, and her breathing was still ragged, so she was content to stay in Angelus' arms as long as there was no sign of him making any threatening moves against her.
Angelus moved his hand from petting her hair, to stroke down her cheek, to hook under her chin, tilting her head up. He felt Buffy's already tense muscles bunch up, ready to push him away. Swooping down he captured her lips with his own. Running his tongue along her bottom lip, before entering the warm recesses of her mouth.
For a moment Angelus thought that she'd push him away, but slowly her body relaxed, and she moaned breathily into his mouth, her tongue coming up to play with his, tentively at first before gaining confidence.
Angelus growled in pleasure as Buffy's untutored tongue flirted with his. Her inexperienced caresses setting his thick blood on fire, he forced himself not to give into his urge to make her submit, to give him the free reign over her hot little mouth. A gentle hand was needed at this stage of the game. There would be plenty of time for that later.
Suddenly without warning Buffy shoved him away, punching him square in the nose, the crack renting the air proving that she broke his nose.
Angelus growled arousal still thrumming through him, at what he considered an enjoyable type of foreplay.
"You sick bastard!! The next time you're feeling happy do it in your own room!" Buffy screamed at him, before backing off rage, and disgust visible in every pore of her being.
Angelus quirked a brow, he'd forgotten about cleaning himself up on her shirt. He shrugged 'Oh well every demon has his moments. I should probably tell her…I'll do it later. She is sexy when she's trembling with rage.' Angelus thought with a wolfish smirk.
Unknown to Buffy, and Angelus. Cordelia had come out of The Bronze to see Angelus, and Buffy fighting in the alley. She had stood transfixed, until Angelus had kissed Buffy. The brunette had stormed off with jealousy gnawing at her, and an unjustified vindictive rage.
Buffy paced her room like a caged lion. What had she been thinking?! Kissing Angelus! Angel would never forgive her! Buffy whimpered at the thought flinging herself down on her bed. She was too keyed up to sleep, but too tired to study.
She had skived out on her patrol of the cemeteries, forgetting about them in her righteous fury, and disgust.
She wasn't even sure how it happened. Her head had still been filled with lingering cobwebs. One minute he was holding her in what she hesitantly called a caring embrace then suddenly his lips where over hers.
She was just glad that her friends hadn't been there, to witness her weakness.
A huge question that circled her brain in bold neon sign letters was WHY?! He'd made certain to make it absolutely clear that he hadn't found her enjoyable. So why was he all with the masturbating, and the hugging, and, and, and the kissing.
Buffy took out the drawing her eyes taking it in. His attention to the details, and his ability to master not only her feelings, but projecting his onto the page as well. Buffy wanted to scrunch up the drawing, and throw it in her wastepaper basket, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. No one had drawn her before, and despite the fact that Angelus scared, and confused her, and downright set her teeth on edge. She couldn't destroy his artwork.
Getting up from the bed. Buffy squatted down pulling out a shoebox. Opening the box she was confronted with all the photos that she couldn't put into frames. Dropping the drawing into the box Buffy silently vowed to remove it at a later date, when the loss of Angel wasn't so hard to bear.
In the back of her mind in a part that she refused to acknowledge she knew that she wouldn't.