Angel

 

SERIES : the Buffy & Angelus Chronicles

PAIRING : Buffy/Angelus, Buffy/Angel (at end)

RATING : NC17

SPOILERS : major spoilers, I’ve used actual show quotes from all four seasons of Buffy & Angel season one.

DISCLAIMER : I do not own these characters. Nor do I own “Angel” (Sarah McLachlan).

NOTES & WARNINGS : Entire series has : rape, torture, character deaths & pain (these things are not in every part).

 

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      It had been a year and a half since he walked out of her life the first time, playing the noble one. She had had to agree with him the second time, it seemed like the right thing to do, but it hurt so much. She recalled a night in her life that had saved it, her life. A night in which she had almost ended it.

      There was only one creature that knew about that night. She had gone to the mansion with a knife and the claddaugh ring. She had sat in front of the fireplace staring at it deeply, watching the flames through her tears. She had been tired of the lies and thoughts that she could move on. She was sick of the memories that plagued her soul, the things she'd done and regretted. She had taken the knife to her wrists and watched the blood spilling from her body. He had shown up not five minutes later and had stopped the bleeding. He sat with her that night and listened as she cried. Yes Spike had definitely surprised her that night, and had kept his word, he had told no one. Since Angel had left, Spike had become a second best friend to her. He insisted on patrolling with her and he had helped her, or tried to help her heal. That night Spike learned just how much she hadn't healed from the events of Angelus’ return.

      Now, seven months later, she stared at the paper, not believing what it said. It was the answer to all her prayers. She had to follow through with it.

 

      There was never a day when he woke up and didn't think of her, never a night when he didn't remember the warmth and peace he had found deep within her. Never did a day pass when he didn't regret erasing the happiest day of his life. Never a night he didn't dream about the profound solace he found within her core. Never was there a dream that didn't succeed in turning him on, never a morning he woke up and didn't take a cold shower. Never a day he didn't hate himself for hurting her the way he did. Never a day went by when he didn't close his eyes and see her covered in bruises from his own hands. And there never was a day that went by when he didn't wish he could tell Buffy that his soul was permanent. He wanted desperately to call her, but he couldn't bring himself to, it still wouldn't make a difference. They were still from different worlds.

      He had made the choices and he had to deal with them. He woke up this particular morning early and went up to the office. It was empty now and he sat at his desk and took the photo of Buffy out from the bottom of his drawer. He jumped when the phone rang. "Angel Investigations, We help the hopeless. Can I help you?"

 

      She hadn't been expecting him to answer. His voice sounded so good. "Hello? Is someone there?" He asked.

      "Angel?"

 

      It was her. "Buffy? Are you okay? What's wrong?"

      "I need you." He had been longing to hear those words for so long.

      "What's wrong? What happened?"

      "Can you come?"

      "Of course, yes, is it a demon?"

      "When can you get here?"

      "I'll leave right now."

      "The sun..."

      "No, the windows are tinted, Buffy... tell me what's going on."

      "I'll be waiting."

      "Where?"

      "You know... and Angel, hurry." She hung up on him. What was going on? Was she hurt? Was she kidnapped? He hated this, he tried the redial thing he saw advertised on television, but it didn't work, could be a pay phone or cell phone. He scribbled a note for Cordelia and was on his way, he had to hurry. She needed him.

 

      She was waiting, reading and rereading the pages in the book. There was no mistaking what it said, none at all and he was on his way. Soon, it would be over. Soon, it would begin. She was ready.

 

      He knew where she would be. The last place they had shared pure intimacy was at the mansion. The mansion  held several memories for him, most bad: drinking from her, hurting her, leaving her. He hadn't been back there since he'd left the second time. It wasn't healthy for them, wasn't safe. He pulled into the driveway and into the garage Spike had kept his car in just a few years ago and the memories came flooding back. She was here; he could feel her in his bones.

 

      He was here, she felt him inside.  She welcomed the feeling after so long.

 

      He was unsure of what to say when he saw her sitting in front of a blazing fire, staring at it. So he didn't say anything, he sat beside her and looked into it for what seemed like hours.

      "You know, about seven months ago, I was here. Actually I come here a lot, probably more than I should, it helps me think, gives me clarity, sometimes tears, but it's a place I feel safe." He didn't know what to say, it didn't seem appropriate to say anything, so he didn't. "Anyway, I came here with this." He looked down at her hand and she held the ring in her palm. "I came and put it right here." She set it down in front of the fire. "I put it right here and stared at it for a while. One little silver ring meant so much to me, my future, my love, my life; it meant everything to me, the world. It was a promise, a symbol of what we had and the connection we shared."

      He still didn't know what to say to her, so he didn't, and she continued. "The flames danced on it, created shadows on the floor and if I stare at them long enough I see our past, yours, mine, ours, all of it in those shadows on the floor." She was quiet. "After a while I couldn't even see straight anymore, I was watching every moment of us dance on the floor, our passionate and tender love, the ecstasy of our hate, the clarity of my grief for you, the tears of our goodbye, and I cried. I cried so much. I couldn't even see past the tears. I was shaking, inside and out and I took out this knife." She took a knife from under her leg; she pressed the blade lightly into her wrists. He looked at them and saw scars on them, more scars. Her young body had too many scars. "I cut my wrists Angel, I cut them because I couldn't pretend anymore. I couldn't pretend I didn't love you, I couldn't pretend to be perky-Buffy, I couldn't wear the masks anymore. I couldn't pretend what happened didn't, and I couldn't pretend that it didn't affect me. I didn't want to be the Slayer; I didn't want to be here. I wanted to stop it, the pain, the loneliness, the fear of never finding a love like ours again. I never left the darkness. It was something I couldn't escape, I can't escape. It's so consuming, so powerful."

      He still didn't know what to say. He couldn't get a read on the situation, she hadn't looked at him yet, hadn't touched him, hadn't even glanced at him, she was just staring at the fire and the ring. "I made a friend that night, or rather found an unusual one. I don't know why he helped me, why he didn't finish me off. I guess because he knows something I don't, or maybe he doesn't want to have put up with a new Slayer. You know him, you made him. Spike stopped the bleeding and held me all-night and listened to me cry. Never once did he try and tell me what to do, or to calm down, and I don't have to pretend with him." Had she fallen in love with Spike? He surely didn't want to know this, but he still didn't know what he could contribute to this conversation.

      "I've seen many things in my life, I've done many things I'm not proud of, not like you have, but I've made mistakes. I took two men in my bed, rather two boys, extremely disappointing at that. In the course of this, I almost completely alienated my closet friends and almost completely forgot who I was and what I stood for. I was almost killed on more than one occasion, probably on more than a hundred, but I lost track. I had a wonderful lover, a friend, a confident who I just let walk out of my life. I got confused and wrapped up in the darkness, and let it consume me, take me over and the things I let happen... what I did... I tried to kill myself over all this; I would have killed myself if it hadn't been for your childe Angel. I was ready to die." She sat quiet for minutes. "Say something Angel."

      "Like what? What could I possibly say?"

      "I don't know."

      "Why did you call me?"

      "Because I've come to the realization that I need you as much as you need blood, to survive."

      "Buf..."

      "I realized this throughout the course of talking with Spike, of all people. He goes patrolling with me and we talk about everything. Things the three of you used to do, when he first met you and Dru, what it's like. You never liked to talk about vampire things, he doesn't care, he's not ashamed, doesn't feel guilty over liking to hurt and kill people. He talks very bluntly about everything. Anyway, we got talking one night about him and Drusilla and how much he missed her and how insanely jealous he was when he saw her making out with that other demon. And it's through talks with him that I decided that I was going to do whatever it takes to convince you of the very fact that you need me."

      "Buffy." She turned to him and looked deep in his eyes. He melted into her gaze.

      She handed him the book. "Read the pages I've book marked." She resumed her staring into the fire running her fingers along the blade. He read and was astonished at the suggestions the pages contained.

 

      She sat quietly reflecting on everything. He put the book down.

 

      "Buffy..."

      "This place has seen a lot of blood. It saw mine her seven months ago, and eleven months before that. It saw Giles', not to mention Parker's and Riley's, and how many other strangers'. And it’s seen me in many different ways. Do you remember what we did upstairs?"

      "Buffy... let's not..."

      "Why not? Are you ashamed that your demon made love to me? Or are you angry that I made love to him? Are you angry that we fucked for three days before I sent you to hell? Or are you mad because I enjoyed it just as much as he did?"

      "Buffy..."

      "Or is it a combination of all of the above?"

      "Buffy, I'm mad because of what you let him do to you and what he took from you. I'm mad at me for wearing the hands that did those things." They were silent for a time.

      She took the book from him. "Interesting information huh?"

      "No." He said firmly.

      "No it's not?"

      "No it's not going to happen." He said.

      "Why not? Would you rather watch me die?"

      "I'm not going to, I promised, I won't scar you again. I won't hurt you again."

      "But you do every minute you stay away. Is it because I sent you to Hell? Is that why you punish me like this? Is it because I told him I loved him?"

      "Buffy..."

      "Is it because I meant it? Because I do, I don’t take it back. He's a part of you Angel, not all of you, but a part of you. I love all of you, who you were, who you are, every little piece of you. It's because of him that I have you; otherwise we'd never have met. You would have died long before my grandparents were born. He brought you to me. Without him you wouldn't be so damn broody and mysterious, you wouldn't be so cool against my skin, all these things I love about you. I know that the last time we, him and I, met things didn't go well, they were horrible. I know this and I know it's not him I want, I was confused in high school when you came back from Hell, then when I showed up in L.A. and there he was, it was easy to fall into bed with him. It was easy to erase the pain and emptiness with someone who had your face. But it was never the same, he was still cold, his eyes, even when we made love, he was so completely not what I needed and I wish I had known that before. I need you. I need this."

      "You have no idea what you'd be giving up Buffy."

      "But what would I get? I would get you, us."

      "And you'd lose out on children and sunlight... forever Buffy, do you have any idea of what forever means? Of how long it is? Of how lonely? "

      "Yes, I do. I've lived a year and half without you, more than two years without feeling you inside me, that's forever Angel. If I have to live seventy years more without those two things, I'd rather die tonight. "

      "It's so lonely Buffy, forever is... god it's so lonely."

      "It doesn't have to be."

      "Buffy, I won't let you give up those things for this."

      "What did you give up for me Angel? What did you give up for my happiness? You gave up your soul. You gave up every shred of dignity and respect you had earned, every good deed was erased, for me."

      "That wasn't exactly a conscious choice."

      "No, but you suffered, you still do. Then because of that, you left me, to give me a chance at a normal life, and I am grateful for that Angel, I am, but it didn't work. And after the rape, you loved me, you gave me exactly what I needed, never asked for anything in return, you just touched me, you helped me heal. And if that wasn't enough, you gave up your humanity."

      "WHAT?" How did she know that? "Buffy, what did you say?"

      "You gave up your humanity so I could be safe. You gave up every dream you ever had, every wish, without even a second thought, so I could stay safe. Look at all you've given up for me, and how did I repay you? I went to your apartment and hit you, accused you of being with Faith. I was a selfish child."

      "Buffy, how do you know about that day?"

      "I just do, I promised I wouldn't forget and I didn't."

      "What?"

      "Our love transcends time Angel. That's the point. You're here and I'm here because we're destined to be. The true love spell I did in high school only confirmed what we both already knew inside. Our souls are connected to each other; I could find you in a sea of strangers because I can feel you inside me. I knew you were getting closer before you even pulled in the garage. Our love is stronger than time."

      "Why didn't you say anything?"

      "What could I possibly have said? 'Gee Angel, thanks for giving up your humanity for me, I'll see you later? ' I could barely stand up knowing it was over, like waking up from a wonderful dream. I live in those memories every night Angel. I'm just grateful that we have them, that you have them, for when I go."

 

      He was quiet for a very long time; he sat staring into the fire beside her, until he finally broke the silence. "In Hell, you don't meet the devil, if he's there, I never saw or heard of him. It was like a hundred years in a blazing inferno, a lot of the residents I recognized, maybe not by name, but there was something familiar, maybe just the evil. See everyone thinks that the Devil is full of hate and evil, but it's all about justice, the righteous punishing the wicked. And I was punished. They did nothing I hadn't done to a thousand others, nothing I didn't deserve. They used my memories, my fears; they twisted it all around to make me see what they wanted me to see. Horrible things I can't even..." she looked at him and a tear streamed down his cheek. "I can't even think about, let alone talk about. When I came back and started being able to think clearly I started remembering things I had... he had... WE had done. Ms. Calendar, the Judge, Acathla, Giles... and everything we said... I said to you. Every time I sat in your room watching you, leaving drawings for you, killing Willow's goldfish, grabbing her in the school, the desperate and sad look in your face. Then I started to remember the hunger in your eyes, the desire in your fingers, crawling around my body, calling his name, bucking underneath him, begging for more..."

      "You ARE mad."

      "Jealous maybe... I don't blame you Buffy; I created the plateau for his obsession to take off from. I did that."

      "No, destiny did."

      "I let it happen. I should have walked away sooner but I didn't. I can't give you what you want. I can't do what you ask. I won't. I have to go."

      "No. You can't, you won't. Either you're going to kill me tonight, or we're going to live together."

      "Buffy I won't. Not again." He was quiet. "I live in those memories too. All of them. I think of them and see the pictures he drew, my hands drew and I wish it had been me. I want to do those things with you Buffy, to you, but I won't. I can't. Then I think about the last time and how he hurt you, my hands Buffy, MY hands did those things to you. I won't hurt you again. I won't. You have to move on."

      "No, I can't."

      "You don't have a choice."

      "Angel, he told me that he liked feeling my warmth, my blood... you do too, so take them both. I give myself to you, everything that I have, my life, I want you to take what's yours."

      "No."

      "You think I don't know about everything Angel, but the past seven months have given me a lot of clarity. The ring, an Irish tradition, I know about it. When given, the claddaugh represents devotion and loyalty, friendship and love and commitment. I've been married to you since I was seventeen when we consummated our relationship. You never bothered to tell me what it all meant, but I found out, it's a sacred marriage vow." Again he had nothing to say to her. "Why didn't you tell me? You didn't want to scare me by telling me how much you loved me, how beyond words it was. I wasn't scared Angel, I wouldn't have been, I love you so much it hurts me inside, it tears me up inside. I wasn't scared about the commitment; it's what I wanted. And I WASN'T scared when you made me yours."

      "Buffy..."

      "Remember when you, he, came to the library the night after he tricked me, he went to kill me and I told him to and he didn't. I was researching vampire mating rituals that night. I wanted to know why he was so possessive of me, he constantly called me his. And you know what I found?" She was silent. "You do know what I found."

      "Yes."

      "Tell me." They were both quiet. "Tell me Angel. Say the words."

      "You already know."

      "I want to hear them from your mouth. He told me he knew about the folklore surrounding the vampires. Tell me." He watched her rubbing her finger over the blade of the knife, waiting to pierce him. He wouldn't let her. "Tell me Angel." He was silent for minutes.

      "Some vampires mate for eternity. They seek out their mate, most often a human, and court them with human rituals, and drink from them on several occasions before sharing the demon. That way the mate carries the scar of belonging."

      "Tell me."

      He looked at her, still looking at the flames. He brushed her hair back to reveal her scar from him. He ran his fingers over it. "I did this. I made you mine."

      "I am, I always have been." She turned to him and looked into his eyes for the second time. "I am yours Angel, in every sense. I have the ring your people exchanged as wedding vows; I have the scars that connect me to the demon. I am yours."

      "And I don't want you anymore."

      She slapped him and he deserved it. "Like hell you don't. Why did you come then?"

      "I thought you were in trouble."

      "I am."

      "What?"

      "Trouble of losing my mind Angel. I can't do what I do anymore, not like this, not knowing what I've done, what I've seen, what kind of slayer am I anyway? I can't go on without you. I want to die. I am going to die either by your hand or mine. The question is whether or not I'll come back."

      "Buffy, I won't let you do this. You don't know what it's like."

      "Cause you never told me, but Spike did. He told me a lot."

      "Well Spike has a twisted view point, he likes it."

      "And you don't?"

      "I did. Having a soul kind of takes away the fun of being guilt free."

      "But I won't have guilt, I won't kill."

      "How can you be sure?"

      "Angel, I did the research."

      "How can you be sure?"

      "I can't be. But it's a chance I'm willing to take."

      "I'm not."

      "Then I won't come back, but I will die, and you'll watch, or you'll leave."

      "No, I won't let you do this."

      "You're going to control me again?"

      "Buffy, I may have a soul but the demon is still there screaming at me to just kill someone. It's begging for me to take that knife and cut your insides out, screaming at me all the time. It brings my memories into my dreams and I enjoy them, the killing dreams. I miss it, I wish for once the demon could be stronger than the conscience, so I could have just one new memory." He brushed her scar once more. "I barely pulled myself away that night Buffy. I couldn't do it, I wanted to, but the demon wouldn't let me. Having something warm again and from the Slayer too? The object of both his and mine obsessions and affections. You almost died by me, and I won't do that again."

      "I 'm asking to completely kill me, and bring me into your world."

      "No."

      "Then we have nothing more to say." She took the knife in her hand and slowly put it to her wrists.

      "NO! Buffy it's not worth it."

      "I don't want this life anymore Angel."

      "Have you considered the curse in any of your reunite-Buffy-and-Angel plans?"

      "No."

      "Why not?"

      "Because it's not a concern anymore."

      "What?" How could she know about that?

      "Because I asked for it. I went to the Oracles before I came back here and I told them that I did remember what they did. They were surprised that I remembered to say the least. I told them that they owed you for it, for ensuring them two warriors, and that you should get something for the sacrifice. They didn't like that I ordered them around, but they agreed and they said they would abolish the happiness clause when the time was right."

 

//Spend all your time waiting

For that second chance

For a break that would make it okay//

 

      "So how do you know it's not a concern anymore?"

      "Because the time is right." She looked at him once more. "Angel, I won't make you, but I won't let you stop me either."

      "What do you want from me Buffy? I don't want this for you. I don't want your life filled with demons and darkness. I didn't leave so you could do this. I don't want you to wake up in the middle of the night craving human blood. I don't want you to never see the sun again, believe me, you take it for granted but as soon as it's gone, it's like a dream."

 

//There's always some reason

To feel not good enough

And it's hard at the end of the day//

 

      "Angel, my life is already surrounded in darkness. I can't escape it on my own, I tried. The only time I am happy with when I'm with you, the only time I feel accepted is with you. And what about you? What about my life with you?"

      "You won't have one. You'll be dead."

      "Angel, I've spent months thinking about this, years really, ever since I met you I thought about it, and even before that.  I thought about what it would be like, and ever since I started reading this stuff, all the stories about the slayers, I'm ready. It's not like I'm just jumping on this decision."

      "You wanna be cold forever? Watch your friends die? Watch your mother die? Is that really what you want?"

      She looked deep into his eyes and touched put her hand to his cheek, "Yes. It is." With that, he took her into his arms and held her close.

 

//I need some distraction

Oh a beautiful release

Memories seep from my veins

Let me be empty

Oh and weightless and maybe

I'll find some peace tonight//

 

      Never did he remember her being so sad and determined. She leaned back into his chest and he held her. Even when he had lost his soul and was tormenting her, she hadn't look so lonely.

 

 

//In the arms of the angel

Far away from here

From this dark cold hotel room

And the endlessness that you fear//

 

      He felt so good, his arms wrapped around her, she felt safe, at home. She felt like she belonged. And she did. She did belonged there, in his arms. His hands were latched around her waist, resting on her abdomen. She knew he wouldn't take her life from her now. He meant what he said. So she was going to die, she couldn't go on. She dropped the knife to the floor and picked the ring up. She held it so the flames reflected off it in her eyes and his hand took it from hers and put it on her finger, in it's rightful place. His hands then resumed their position around her waist. She put her hands over his and just let herself sit, content in his arms.

 

//We are pulled from the wreckage

Of your silent reverie

You’re in the arms of the angel

May you find some comfort here//

 

      She leaned back, and allowed one arm to wrap around his head, and she leaned up and put her lips in front of his. He took them in his own, gently pushing his tongue between her mouth and she welcomed the feeling. He explored her mouth freely, running along the tops of her teeth, along her palate, and eventually rubbing her tongue. It was cold and she wanted so desperately to give herself to him once more, before she left him forever.

 

//So tired of the straight line

That every where you turn

There's vultures and thieves at your back//

 

      She was engrossed in the kiss when she realized he was unbuttoning her shirt. She soon felt his cool hands engulfing the heat from her stomach. His hands moved up her arms to her shoulders and slipped the shirt off. He cupped her breasts through the lace of her bra and she closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of him, touching her once more. She turned over and got to her knees. She looked deep into his eyes, making the connection between them, reinforcing it.

 

//The storm keeps on twisting

Keep on building the lies

That you make up for all that you lack//

 

      She pushed his duster off his shoulders as his hands rubbed her arms and ran through her golden hair. She pulled his shirt off next and began kissing his chest, licking it slowly, running her trembling fingers over it.

      Both understood the implications that came with the kisses. Both knew it would be the last. He leaned back and she followed him, lying on top of him, connecting with his mouth. His hands lovingly unclasped her bra and it joined her shirt on the floor. He looked up at her, she was his angel sent from above, her love redeemed him. It made him worthy of the light.

      Her skin was so soft, delicate to his touch. His fingers trembled as they made their way around her body, reacquainting himself with her warmth and presence. Her skin was so warm against his own, a feeling he would certainly miss. There wasn't enough time, not to show her how much he loved her. There weren't enough words to describe it.

 

//It don't make no difference

Escaping one last time

It’s easier to believe//

 

      He lay still while she worked her way down to his boots and took them off. He closed his eyes and listened carefully to her heartbeat, racing, trying to memorize it's sound, its rhythm, seemingly calling his name. He was concentrating so much he didn't realize that his jeans were unzipped and she had successfully pulled his belt off as well. She returned to his mouth, covering his lips with her own. His hands went to work on her jeans, unzipping them and the two kicked them off and their legs entwined. He was naked beneath his jeans but she still wore the panties to match the bra.

      His hands roamed over her body as he laid her on the floor beside him. His eyes focused on things he'd never seen before: a little scar on her arm, a nick on her stomach, a birthmark near her navel, a scratch just above her left breast. He kissed all these things, gently, first with his lips, but then with his tongue, hoping he could heal all her wounds.

 

      She let him gaze at her, relished the feeling of his cool mouth roam her body freely, his hands running down her legs, on her thighs and over her sex. Feeling him touch her through the lace fabric was thrilling and exhilarating. She felt him lift her hips up off the ground lightly to slip the panties off and she closed her eyes as his tongue made contact with her soft folds.

 

//In this sweet madness

Oh the glorious sadness

That brings me to my knees//

 

      Having him touch her like this again, caring, loving, slowly sent her over the edge. She began to cry, tears falling from her eyes to the rug below her. Tears for the feeling of finally being home, and for the feeling of knowing it would soon be over.

 

      Her skin was so soft to his lips. He could taste her; feel her very essence in his mouth as he sucked on her gently. He couldn't tell whether she was crying or moaning, or a little of both. He released her from his mouth and returned to her face. He was lying at her side and he cupped her face in his hands and wiped away the tears, but they kept falling.

      He could see behind them, how badly she needs him. She didn't know, or didn't believe how much he loved her. He wished he could prove how much without leaving her, but it was impossible. Or was it?

      He got up, positioning himself over her small body, enveloping her with his form. She leaned up and kissed him deeply. He hovered over her, feeling himself at her dripping entrance, ready for him. He eased in slowly, excruciating slowly, allowing her time to adjust to his size.

 

//In the arms of the angel

Far away from here

From this dark cold hotel room

And the endlessness that you fear//

 

      She let out a moan as he entered her tight passage. He was so careful, patient, not like his counterpart who had plowed his way through. Angel loomed above her, kissing her forehead, her nose, eyes, lips and she felt herself stretching to accommodate him. She closed her eyes, and soaked in the feeling of having him home once more. She smiled feeling him filling her completely. The feeling of completion she got from him, the feeling of him stretching her body, like he did her heart and soul. She moaned softly, arching up toward him inviting him.

      He then proceeded to ease out, almost as slowly as he had entered, and then he pushed himself in again. Her hands ran over his back, gripping his shoulders as his pace picked up a little. She arched her back and lifted her pelvis to give him a better angle, an open invitation to her lover. And she felt as he accepted her invitation to her body, he pushed deeper into her cavity while his kisses rained upon her face.

      The only thing she could hear was her own cries and gasps of ecstasy and exhilaration. She looked up at him and he was her angel. The flames danced on his face, creating shadows. She reached up and cupped his face in her hands and he kissed her fingers.

      "Are you okay?" He whispered between gentle thrusts and she nodded between gasps.

 

//We are pulled from the wreckage

Of your silent reverie

You’re in the arms of the angel

May you find some comfort here//

 

      He thrust inside her, not going quite far enough. He wanted to reach that place in her body that would tell her how much he loved her. It was impossible to, he had hurt her too bad to ever make it completely up to her.

      He watched her close her eyes and arch herself up to him, to make contact with his body. She wriggled underneath him, quivering, trembling and shaking all at once. She was so beautiful as she began to tense up. He felt her squeezing around him and a low growl resonated from deep within his chest as she did. It was pain; an intense loving pain and he reveled in it.

      She was close, he could feel it, but he couldn't quite get her over the edge. She must have known it too because she wrapped her legs around his waist drawing him deeper than she ever remembered. He could feel her stopping him from going any further, he was bumping her cervix. She let out a scream as she thrashed around under him, in the throws of her intense orgasm. He leaned down and kissed her as she came and she kissed him back, probably without realizing it.

 

      When she began to recover from her orgasm she knew he had not come yet and she wanted him to experience the bliss she had. She knew what would throw him over the edge. He was still reaching inside her and she felt herself beginning all over again. She leaned up off the floor a little and he leaned down to her and she kissed his jaw. She slowly trailed her kisses to his neck and bit into him with her blunt teeth. In response he screamed and growled at the same time.

      His blood dripped down, as she had broken skin, and it fell from above onto her own neck. He lost control, releasing his cool seed into her body, the coolness bathed her warmth inside and she felt his fangs bury themselves deep within her flesh. She came again with this action.

 

      The scent of his own blood entering the mix of emotions took him away from reality. The demon came out immediately as they came together and he bit into her. Her blood splashed into his mouth and he accepted it hungrily. It had been so long since he had drunk from her and it washed over him, the aroma, the texture, it was purely her. He drank it from her greedily and she squirmed underneath him, screaming in ecstasy once more, he felt her come, smothering him with her hot liquids.

 

      The double invasion of him into her body sent her over the edge and she tried to hold on to the sensations that surged through her body. They began to dissipate; he was drinking them out of her, taking her life into his body, again by invitation. She closed her eyes and enjoyed her last gift to him, feeling him so close to her body. She cried once more.

 

      He forced himself off her. "Buffy?" He looked at her and she opened her eyes. "Buffy? You need to hold on, I'm going to get you to the hospital."

      "No. Angel..."

      "Buffy, no, you can't leave me, you can't, I won't let you. I need you, I do, and you can't leave me like this." He reached under her body and pulled her close to him.

 

      She reached down, feeling for the knife. She found it and pulled it up and saw the flames dancing on the blade, reflecting the fear in his eyes, and the trust in hers.

 

      "Buffy? I'm just going to get dressed, just hold on, I'll take you to the hospital and it'll be okay."

      "No." She held up the knife to him. "Angel..." she was gasping for breath, she was dying, "Angel... please... please..." He took the knife and pressed the blade into his wrist lightly. He couldn't. "Please... Angel..." He pushed it into his skin and made an inch long cut. He stared at it for a couple seconds, watching his own blood ooze out of his dead body. She reached out to his wrist and tried to pull it to her mouth. He resisted. "Angel?"

      He looked into her eyes. "Buffy, let me take you to the hospital."

      "Angel... please..." she pulled on his wrist once again.

      "Buffy, be sure, be very sure." He stopped resisting against his will, and she pulled it to her mouth. She covered the wound with her lips and began drinking. He held her as she died.

 

//You're in the arms of the angel

May you find some comfort here//

 

 

 

~El Fin~

 

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