Angel moaned, pain breaking through the haze of unconsciousness. His eyes fluttered and he strained away from the hands that were poking at him. "No," he groaned, trying to push the person away.
"Angel," Buffy's voice stopped him. He found her kneeling over him, her bloody hands pushing some cloth at his should and causing him the pain. "Can you hear me?"
"Yeah," he said irritably. "You want to get off of me?"
"No," she said. "You're bleeding. We've got an ambulance on the way." She leaned closer. "Why'd you jump in front of me? Why'd you push me like that?"
He stared into her eyes, seeing the soft green sheen, the slight mist of unshed tears. "Why do you think? I couldn't stand by and watch you get hurt or worse."
Ambulances arrived, one loading Angel into the back, the other was for Darla. She'd been shot twice by the other officers, once in the arm, the other in the shoulder. She'd live to stand trial for murder.
Buffy followed the gurney to the ambulance.
"Where do you think you're going? You have a scene to take care of and a case to close." He tried to grin at her. "You don't think I'm doing the paper work for this one do you?"
"But," she started to say.
"No, go to work. I'm fine." He smiled as they loaded him, gritting his teeth when the gurney lurched as it locked into place.
Buffy watched as the doors were closed and the ambulance took off, lights flashing, sirens sounding when it reached the road. Looking down at her hands, she was amazed to see them shaking and felt a shudder climb her spine. Through sheer will, she shook it back, took a deep breath, and went to work, just as the sun was coming up over the trees.
By the time she'd cleared the scene, written her report and briefed the Captain, it was close to lunchtime. She'd just finished reading the last of the paperwork on Darla. She'd been protecting her father. William Pratt had been planning on blackmailing the mayor. He would marry Harmony unless the mayor was willing to pay him off. Darla had found out about the plot, overhearing a phone conversation between Pratt and Willy Barr. Instead of going to her father with the news, she'd wanted to prove herself to him. So she'd gone to Pratt's apartment, had sex with him to try to get her own blackmail against him. Her plan had backfired though. William Pratt was now going after Darla as well, a tape of their rather raunchy night together turning up.
Darla had been desperate.
Buffy sat at her desk, going over the few last details and the final bit of paperwork when her phone rang. "Yeah? Summers."
"Detective Summers? This is Jenny Calendar down at County General Hospital. I've been asked to call you regarding a Detective Liam Angelus."
"How is he?" Buffy asked, unable to keep the anxiety out of her voice. She'd been wanting to check on him all morning but had been afraid to seem too ... something.
"Detective, I think you need to get down here. As soon as you can."
"Is he okay?"
"If you could get down here, Detective, I don't wish to discuss his condition over the phone."
With that, Buffy grabbed her keys and slid her 9mm duty weapon back into it's holster as she stood. "I'm on my way," she said into the phone before shutting it and sliding it into her pocket.
Buffy stomach was in her throat for the entire fifteen minute trip across town. She didn't know what she would do if he were dead. She fought back tears as she realized he meant more to her than she could ever have imagined he would.
She pulled into the emergency parking lot, slipping her car into a slot close to the door and putting down it's on duty shield. She almost ran to the entrance.
Her name didn't register but the sound of his voice did. She stopped, her feet sliding on the smooth concrete and almost sending her into the glass doors of the hospital. Turning, she saw him sitting there on the half wall that surrounded the greenery, his feet hanging, a big grin on his pale face.
"In a hurry?"
She walked toward him, her eyes narrowed as she studied his still pale face. "I thought you were..." She shook her head. "I don't know what I thought. I just got a call saying I should get down here, that you were... Wait, they wouldn't tell me how you were."
"No, of course not. That was my friend Jen, she's one of the kitchen staff. She called you for me." The smile left his face as she abruptly turned away and started stomping back toward her car. "Hey, wait," he called.
"You son of a bitch!" Furious with him for scaring her, with herself for letting herself feel something for a man who could be so cruel, she turned. Only the blood stained jacket kept her from knocking him to the ground. "How could you do that to me?"
He took in her strained face, her tensed posture and felt like a heel. "I'm sorry, Buf. I didn't mean to scare you, I guess I didn't even think about that. My phone's dead and I asked Jen if she'd give you a call for me. I didn't think she'd scare you like that. I need a ride home."
"What are you doing out anyway? You were shot."
"Through and through. I signed myself out." He started moving towards her car, stopping when she just stood there and stared at him. "You coming? I'd offer to drive but..." he lifted the arm slightly that was in the sling.
She hurried over and unlocked his door, watching him slide into the seat with a pained grunt. He smiled up at her as she leaned over him, buckling him into his seat.
She got in the car and pulled out, heading back towards his apartment. He settled back against the seat and closed his eyes.
He woke to her beautiful green eyes staring up at him from where she crouched next to his seat with the car door open. "Hey beautiful," he stretched a little and then groaned from the pulling in his wounds. "How long was I asleep?"
"About twenty minutes," she said, standing after she released his seat belt.
He shifted his weight to get out and felt torn muscles scream in protest. Buffy was there in an instant, taking his good arm and helping him stand. He stood there for a moment feeling a little foolish. "I've never been shot before, didn't know it would hurt this bad."
"The doc give you any pain killers?" Buffy let him wrap his good arm around her and lean against her.
"Yeah, in my pocket along with a couple of others. After he gave me a lecture about leaving." He chuckled and then groaned. "I told him you'd come and take care of me, that's the only way I got out." The look she gave him made him grin but she didn't say anything as she helped him into his complex and then into the elevator. She pressed the button for his floor and then stood there with him. "So, what happened after my wonderful exit this morning?"
"Well, Darla is going to be fine. She'll be ready for transfer to jail in a week or so. She hid the pistol in a pot, dammit. And the crime scene team missed it."
"We missed it too," he reminded her.
"Yeah, it looked like a single pot to me. I guess next time, we move it and see."
The elevator opened onto his floor and a couple started to get on, stopping when they saw the blood on Angel's shoulder. Buffy could hear them whispering behind her as she helped him down the hall towards his apartment door.
He got his keys out and handed them to her when they got to the apartment. She helped him in and shut the door behind them. Walking into that apartment with him sent memories rushing through her. She could almost see herself, dressed in only his shirt teasing him as they sat and ate fruit salad before hopping into the shower together.
She saw him watching her, a speculative look in his eyes.
"Where do you want to be?" she asked him quietly.
"Bed sounds pretty good," he said. "So did you find out the why?"
"Yeah," She said, helping him through the bedroom door. She sat him on the edge of the bed and started to take off his jacket, emptying out his pockets onto his dresser and setting his pill bottles next to the bed. "Our William had quite a scam going. He was sleeping with the mother and blackmailing her with videotapes that he threatened to take to her husband. She got to the point that she was desperate."
"And what about Darla?" he asked, trying to take his mind off the fact that her hair still smelled like her shampoo, a subtle flowery scent that he couldn't help but notice as she knelt down in front of him to unbutton his shirt.
"Darla," Buffy began, stopping to clear her throat. He was getting to her, being this close, undressing him, coming so close to losing him. She took a deep breath to settle herself a little and instead felt herself surrounded by him as his scent invaded her senses. Her hands stilled on his buttons, her eyes sought out his. "I thought you were dea." She touched his face with her finger tips. "I thought you were dead and I couldn't breath, I couldn't think."
"Oh," he said softly, his good hand burying itself in her hair, dislodging the band she used to tie it back so that it flowed in long curls over her shoulders. "I couldn't just stand there when I saw her with that gun on you. I..." He let his forehead rest against her, his eyes closing as he savored her nearness. "I'm in love with you, Buffy Summers."
Angel waited for her to pull away, to leave after his confession and was startled to feel her soft lips touch his own instead. She kissed him, gently, tenderly, rising up to steady herself with her hands on his thighs as his good hand settled around her, pulling her closer. Their lips clung, not a kiss of passion, though that hovered near to the surface, but a kiss of devotion, of recognition, of love.
The kiss lingered until she moved, trying to get closer and jostled his arm. He pulled away with a moan and a shaky laugh. "So much for romance," he said.
The look on her face, half chagrin, half sympathy, made him laugh again. "Tell me you love me and I'll forgive you," he said, teasing her.
"I do. I can't believe it. I did what I promised myself I wouldn't do and fell in love with you." She looked into his eyes. "You jerk," she said, without any heat. She shook her head and then her hands went back to the buttons on the front of his shirt, slowly finishing the task of getting it off his bandaged shoulder.
"Jerk?" he asked, his hand covering hers.
Buffy smiled up at him but there was more in her eyes, fear, sadness as well as the love he knew she had for him. "You know as well as I do that a relationship with a cop just doesn't work. It's statistics. I love you," she looked away and then back at him, a small smile on her lips. "I never thought I'd say those words to you out loud. I love you."
"Then let's let tomorrow take care of itself. All we can do is work today, you know that." He kissed her softly. "I look in my future, love, and I don't see it without you in it, by my side, meeting whatever challenges we have to face. I want you." He kissed her again. "I want you in my life. And in my heart," he said punctuating every statement with a kiss. "And in my arms, and in my bed." He dragged her against him as he deepened the last kiss, pulling her tightly to the side that didn't hurt. His tongue lapped at the seam of her mouth, teasing until she opened her lips under his and danced her tongue across his own, tangling and tempting until he tore his mouth off of hers. "I want you, Buffy," he groaned in her ear. "Come to bed with me."
"I can't believe you," she said softly as she pulled his shirt off his shoulder, staring at the bandages that covered his shoulder and wrapped around his chest. "You were shot this morning, and now you want to make love with me?" She reached down and slipped off his shoes, pulling his socks gently off his long, slender feet.
Helping him lie back, she laughed when he took her hand and placed it on the long length of his hard shaft through his pants. "I guess I still have enough blood in me for this, but it's making me a bit dizzy. You might have to do most of the work." He grinned up at her unrepentantly.
She squeezed gently and listened to him moan, felt his hips jerk a little under her hand as she stroked him. Then she reached for his belt, undoing it and his pants and helping him pull them off. He lay there in, clad in only a pair of boxers, his erection unashamedly tenting the front. She couldn't help but laugh at him. "Only you, Angelus. I swear you are unlike any man I've ever known before." She pulled off her own jacket, draping it across a chair then pulled off her holster rig, laying it gently on top of the jacket. Kicking off her boots, she stood in front of him, her hands untucking the soft cotton tee shirt she had pulled on yesterday.
His eyes never left her, watching her hands as she pulled the shirt over her head and off of her hair, tossing it on top of her weapon. Her bottoms came next, leaving her in a white lace bra and tiny white satin panties. He couldn't help but stare as his heart started beating even faster. She looked so wanton, her hair streaming over her bare shoulders, her green eyes half closed as she watched him back.
Angel held his hand out to her, and she took it, climbing over him carefully to kneel beside him. Her hair flowed around them as she bent to kiss him, her lips claiming him as her mate, as her other half, branding him with her passion and her love. His hand curled at her waist, then slid upward, cupping one lace covered breast. He molded the shape of it to his hand, hearing her sigh as his thumb brushed over an engorged nipple.
Her hand went to the side of his face, sliding over his cheek to curl around his ear, her fingers twining his soft hair between them. It slid down his neck and over his chest, careful of his shoulder before stroking across and down over his firmly muscled stomach. He sucked in his breath when it snuck under the waist band of his boxers, finding and claiming the heated, aroused flesh of his cock.
It was so soft, so smooth around his hardness and he felt her tremble a little as she stroked him. His breath caught in his throat, his heart raced as she brushed her thumb across its swollen head, gathering the drops of precum she excited from him, smoothing it down and over his cock to lubricate as she stroked him.
He tore his mouth from hers. "God, Buffy. You've got to stop," he moaned huskily, almost laughing as she continued to drive him closer so easily. "I won't last much longer, baby."
She released him with almost a sigh of disappointment, pulling her hand out from inside his boxers. Sitting up, she watched his eyes as she brought her hand to her mouth, licking her fingers of the taste of him, sucking one inside between her soft lips.
"God, you are just so beautiful," he groaned again, unable to take his eyes off of the look in those misty green eyes, half closed in passionate pleasure. He watched as she reached behind herself, unhooking her bra and letting it fall down her arms. It landed across his stomach and she slid it across him to drop it over the edge of the bed. Her hands rose to her breasts, squeezing them, running her hands over her hard nipples, her fingers pulling and twisting as she bit her lip and closed her eyes in pleasure.
Buffy slid one hand down the firm smoothness of her stomach and inside the waistband of her panties to dip her fingers into the heated flesh between her thighs. She'd never done this before, never wanted to before now. Watching his dark eyes, the heat in them, the need, the desire he felt sent a wave of wet warmth to flood over her fingers, which just excited her more.
She slipped her fingers out, letting them play over his lips, feeling him mouth open and close around her finger, tasting her as she had tasted him. Pulling away, she slid off the panties and then hooked her fingers in the waistband of his boxers, carefully pulling them down so she didn't jar his injuries.
His cock sprang free, the air cool around the length of it as she finished pulling the rest of his clothing off of his feet, kissing the top of his foot before dropping the clothing to the floor. Straddling his legs, she crawled her way up him, her eyes never leaving his as she dragged her beautiful breasts over his cock, then his stomach, stopping before she got close to his wound.
Buffy kissed him, drugging him with long tastes of her mouth, teasing him with little nips of her teeth, nibbling and enticing him until his hips moved against the smooth skin of her hips. She loved this power, this feeling of being able to drive him mad with her body, to make him need her, to have him love her. "I love you, Angel," she whispered against his lips as his good hand found her hips, dragging her over him.
"I need to be inside of you."
He words sent another rush of warmth through her, moisture weeping from between passion swollen lips. She took his cock in her hand, holding it still for her possession and slid over him, encasing him in the hot, wet satiny walls. Buffy sat up, taking him fully inside of her, feeling herself stretch around him, delicate flesh singing in delight. Her eyes closed as she started to move, long, smooth, slow strokes.
The light from the window shone over the bed, highlighting her loveliness as she rode him. Her hair cascaded around her, clinging to her skin as passionate sweat began to form from her exertions. His hand sought the beauty of her mound, his thumb parting blonde curls to sink into her wetness, finding the pearled knot of her clit and stroking it gently.
She could barely breathe, passion soaked pleasure rolled through her body from where they were connected as his cock plundered her depths. Shivers shuddered through her even as she reached for more, begged for it with every panting gasp. Her hands pushed hair back from her face, skimmed over her shoulders and down to her breasts, pulling on nipples that begged to be touched.
Buffy could hear his moans. Her eyes flew open watching his face twist as he fought to stave off the orgasm she knew was building in his loins. She leaned over him, grinding into his pubic bone. Her mouth found his for a second, then trailed to his ear.
"Come for me, baby. Make me come."
Angel grabbed her hip with his good hand, yanking her down hard against him, his hips pushing up as he felt the heat flow from his cock. It jerked inside of her as he came, sheets of ecstasy sending streams of cum shooting inside of her. She pulsed around him, her muscles tightening as she found her own delicious release, her cry in his ear goading him on more.
She collapsed, half on him, her breathing as ragged as his own. Her body felt half dead, even as pleasurable little tremors still ravaged it.
He turned his head, his eyes barely opened, meeting her own gaze. "I love you," he whispered.
She opened her mouth and then closed it as her phone, laying on the bedside table, rang. With a sigh, she managed to disentangle herself, pulling away from him with a soft moan. Buffy grabbed the phone, flipping it open and biting back a sigh of disgust when she saw the precincts number on the caller ID. "Summers," she snapped into the phone. She listened for a moment, glanced over at Angel. "Yeah, I'll be right in."
"What is it," JAngel asked when she closed the phone and looked on the floor for her underwear.
"419, with suspicious circs, in the alley behind the Bowling Emporium." She pulled on her clothing.
Angel struggled to sit up, letting his legs fall over the side of the bed.
"Where do you think you're going?" Buffy asked, staring at his struggles with amusement.
"With you." He barely caught the moan that tried to slip out of him.
"I don't think so. I think you'll be sitting this one out," she said, lifting his legs to put them back on the bed. She covered him with the sheet, got him a glass of water to take his pills with. "I'll check in on you later. And if you're good, I might even be willing to tell you what the case is."
Author's Note: Thanks for reading. This will be the final chapter for this story. More to come soon, hope you'll continue to enjoy.