Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel or any of the characters mentioned in either cannon. The lyrics posted in the chapters will be from AWOLNATION - Sail. They're not mine either.

Author's Note: I couldn't wait on a beta. Frosty600 is away still, so I decided to give into my urges and just post it anyway! This is set after both shows end and Angel gains his humanity as a reward. This chapter is dedicated to ba2006.

Chapter Two

This is how an angel dies.

I blame it on my own sick pride.

Blame it on my ADD baby.


The next few months were a nod toward Angelus. Buffy had been brutal in her killings, her torture. At night, she found comfort in his arms, leaving her scent on his skin, a body here and there where she know he'd stumble upon it. Each day he'd start the day swearing he would find the strength not to drink and each night he'd turn up the bottle hoping she'd show. Sometimes she would leave notes, a word or two just to leave him wondering. If he went out, he could feel her, and when he looked for her, he'd never find her. And yet he still knew she was there, watching him, following him, but always waiting.

Craving her, Angel brought his self to go out. He'd shower, head to the nearest pub, bar, or club and find a petite young blonde and get drink until closing time with her. When he first began, Buffy left him a warning, a note on the bathroom mirror.

She's not me.

Taking it as a sign she was jealous, the logical side of his brain told him to back off, to stay at home. It would not keep him safe, but it would help protect people, some anyway. Since Buffy's death, logic was laid to rest. Angel pushed his self to rid himself of Buffy. He had to kill her. When it had been him, he had made her promise to stake him if he ever became Angelus again. This vampire, this demon, only wore his lover's face. And yet, he ignored it, put the responsibility on anyone else but him. It wasn't his job anymore to protect, to help the hopeless. Excusing his self from the duty, Angel pressed on even while knowing what he had to do, what would be inevitable.

The first and last time he went out, Angel decided if he could not kill her, he would find a way to move forward and forget her. In time, her memory would fade. Freshly shaven, showered and dressed, Angel sought out a solution to his problem. The alcohol in their systems was not needed, but Angel supposed it made him and the young girl, Lucy, loosen up. Even as he stared down at girl pressed so against him so intimately, he knew somewhere down inside of him that Buffy was his forever even though he was a mortal man.

The first mistake was going the club Buffy had dragged him to more often than not. The second was approaching the girl instead of taking the chance of her getting the courage to approach him so that he could by her drinks. The third was asking her to dance. The final mistake was taking her to the home he had once shared with Buffy.

But the real mistake was thinking Buffy would be okay with it.

Eyes glassy and pink from the alcohol, Angel buried his face in the blonde's neck and willed his world to stop spinning. He could feel her beneath him, squirming and pressing her body into his, as her eager little hands explored his body. Realizing he wasn't nearly as drunk enough, he steadied himself on one hand as the other reached for the bottle of whiskey. Rolling off of her, he fell against the bed and brought the bottle to his lips. He felt more like Liam every day.

Eyes closing, he groaned when the image of Buffy flashed. She had been so young, so eager, and willing to please him that Angel could not deny her. Seeing the questions in her eyes, Angel had instructed her to open her mouth before guiding her head to show her exactly what pace he liked. Her inexperience had turned him on then and the memory of it had him hardening in the hands of Lucy before he knew it.

The first feel of her tongue had him thrusting upward into her mouth. This was it. The bottle was screwed closed and dropped onto the bed without another thought. Sliding his hand down into her hair, he gripped it and thrust into her mouth in a steady rhythm that had her gagging before she adjusted to his size. Hissing, he knew he would not last as long with the memory of Buffy fresh in his mind and the fact that he had not been with any woman after Buffy. The expertise at which the girl demonstrated forced him to realize she wasn't Buffy. It didn't fit the memory. With a growl he pulled her off him and then flipped her over onto her stomach. He was desperate to find some kind of completion, something of substance.

"Get on all fours. Put yer face in the pillow, lass." If he didn't look at her, he could pretend. He could lie to himself. The Irish brogue took over as he lost all of himself in the moment, taking himself back to a time before Buffy, before all of the death and mayhem.

Without giving her proper time to adjust fully to the position change, Liam yanked her hips back and thrust all the way inside of her. He could feel her walls flutter around him and had heard her cry out into the pillow. Picking up the bottle again, Liam turned it up as he pulled almost all the way out before thrusting hard back inside of her. The fuck was nearly as brutal as the actions of his mate. It fit the mood. He needed completion. He needed the liquor and her juices to wash away Buffy, if only for one night.

The bottle was thrown once the contents were emptied and it shattered against the wall, causing Lucy to jump in surprise. Hands moving to both of her hips he guided her back in a fast and hard steady pace that had her whimpering and moaning into the silk of his pillow case. Nearing his own release, Liam reached between them and pinched her clit hard enough to cause her to cum around him which in turn triggered his release. Pulling out of her, Liam flipped her onto her back and pushed his dick back into her mouth, emptying his seed, giving her no option but to swallow before he fell onto the bed beside her. Realizing her release put her to sleep; Liam turned on his stomach and fell into a deep slumber where for the first time in months, no dreams plagued the body.

Stepping out of the shadows, Buffy growled at the sight of her mate asleep with the blonde he had chosen to replace her with. She curled against him, her body hidden beneath the comforter. Buffy didn't need to look to know she was naked beneath it. Sight, smell, and hearing had given her quite the show. He was becoming just who she wanted him to. To make the monster, she had to make him the man he used to be. If the absence of Angel in those dark eyes and the thick Irish brogue were hints at what was to come, she was closer to than she thought.

"Look, I'm weak. I've never been anything else. It's not the demon in me that needs killing, Buffy. It's the man."

"Encore, my love, encore." Clapping, Buffy gave them a feral smirk.

Walking to the bed, Buffy's heels embedded the broken glass into the hardwood flooring. Reaching over Liam, she remembered the way he had grabbed the blonde's hair as he fucked her.

"Good idea."

Snatching the girl from the bed, some of Lucy's hair dislodged from the scalp and Buffy's hand slammed over her mouth to silence the scream of agony.

"Shhhh. We don't want the show to end before it can begin now do we?"

The smell of fear tickled her nose and Buffy felt a rush of excitement. This was her most satisfying kill to date. It was one step closer to forever.

"Oh, he's going to love my present."

Eying the girl and then her mate, she murmured. "Now if you scream, I'll kill you."

As if it suddenly had come to her attention, she was chuckling as she turned her attention back to Lucy. "Who am I kidding, killing you is going to be so delicious."

Shoving the girl to the bed, she watched the drunken and now injured girl attempt to scramble away. "Let's see if he tastes as good as I remember."

Crawling onto the bed, Buffy reached out and grabbed the girl by her heel. Lucy kicked at her, but it did not discourage Buffy. Using all of her strength, she had the girl onto her back within seconds before her body covered hers. "I can smell him on you. Let's get us another taste hm?"

Buffy's head dipped down as she kissed Lucy, forcing her tongue into the girl's mouth. Immediately she could taste the alcohol and her mate's seed. It made her wet with envious desire. Sucking on Lucy's tongue, Buffy growled before allowing her face to shift into her true face. The girl continued to struggle, fighting more so when she noticed Buffy's face change. She was petrified, shell-shocked. Her heart pounded and it only urged Buffy on. Buffy swayed in tune with it before she peeled back the sheet to admire the blonde's figure. One hand palming the girl's breast, Buffy sank her teeth into Lucy's tongue, savoring the alcohol and fear laced blood, before she bit Lucy's tongue off and spit it back at her.

Head falling back, blood dripped off her fans, coated her lips, and drizzled down her chin, as her long blonde hair cascaded down her back. Hands sliding over her own breasts, Buffy purred in delight. It was only the beginning. Soon Liam would be hers to toy with.

With the sun shining on him, waking him from his slumber, Angel felt something cool and firm against his body. At first, he thought of Buffy. Maybe she had fallen asleep and fell off her game, but then he remembered. The sun was the only reminder he needed. He didn't need to open his eyes to know Buffy couldn't be there. Buffy would never see the light of day again, would never know feel the warmth of the sun shining down. Suddenly, the night before came back to him and he felt guilt creep inside of him. It wasn't like him. Those days were over. But he had needed it. Lucy had been the vessel to trigger his release. Turning on his side, he put his hand down on the bed to steady himself as the hang over made it known. Upon contact, he felt something wet and sticky. His eyes snapped open.

There was blood. Even during his reign of Angelus, he had never seen so much blood. There was blood everywhere … the walls, the sheets, the floor, his body. To anyone but him, Lucy was unrecognizable. Some would say she lied in her death bed, murdered in cold blood, but Angel disagreed. No, she was the lamb led by him to the wolf to be slaughtered. There was not a place on her left recognizable before Buffy had ripped out her throat and left Lucy fully exposed. Bile rose in his throat and Angel darted for the bathroom. Emptying the alcohol from his system, Angel fell against the sink. Seeing the trail of blood, Angel jerked back, slamming into the wall behind him. His eyes came to rest on the bathroom mirror. Instead of steam, Buffy had written neatly in Lucy's blood.

Shall we dance, lover?

In that moment, he knew she would be the death of him and so many others. He'd always be weak.