Lissie
Slamming the door hard, the vamp walked steadfast towards Buffy, avoiding
the gaze of the blond vamp in front of him. Dropping a card in front of her,
he turns to leave. Buffy picked up the card, made of a worn yellow paper. A
crudely written word was on the paper, but the message was clear. "DIE" was
smeared across the card, written in a red liquid. Looking up at the man
retreating towards the door, Buffy could see the still fresh blood dripping
down Angel's wrist. Quickly removing herself from Spike's arms, Buffy
scurried to the broody vamp. She pounced in front of the door, and grabbed
his wrist, ignoring protests coming from both men. A crease of worry crossed
Buffy's brow, and then looking up at Angel, pulled him close to her in a hug.

Spike stared intently as the red blood slowly . . . dripped . . .
dripping through the cracks of Buffy's fingers, which still firmly grasped
Angel's wrist. His eyes traveled up her body, following the cascading lines
her golden hair formed, falling softly down her shoulder. His eyes crossed
her face. Watching the myriad of expressions was an intoxicating sight. The
slayer's worried face transformed to something . . . different. He tried to
place the strange, yet familiar expression. It hit him. Her face reflected
the same emotions she used against him. Love, hate, worriedness, confusion,
and a hint of disgust. The corner's of Spike's mouth turned up. "The slayer
doesn't know what the heck she feels about the poof! Which can only be good
for me . . ."

Buffy's confused eyes met the blue ones staring intently at her. Traveling
down his face, she caught the slight smirk Spike derived from seeing her with
Angel. The eyes flashed with fury as Buffy released herself from Angel's
arms. "Spike, get me a first aid kit." she spoke, with clenched teeth.
Sensing her discomfort, Angel laid his good hand upon her shoulder. Grasping
it slightly, she led the soulful vampire to the couch before them. She
brought his palm to her lap with her now blood stained hands. Softly tracing
the deep gash upon his hand with tense fingers, she looked up at him.

Angel let out a soft sigh. The pain his hand was causing him was nothing
compared to the pain gripping his heart. Sitting before him was the woman he
loved so dearly, touching him like he always wished. A soft voice in the back
of his head whispered "Tell her! Tell her!" but he knew there was no use
trying. Slowly his mind traveled back to that faithful night - - -

 "Ah, the vampire with a soul, once he fulfills his destiny, will Shanshu.
Become human. - It's his reward." spoke Wesley, his glasses perching upon his
nose. Angel's heart filled with happiness. Ever since that day he had been
stuck with new purpose. Though it had been a few years since that time, Angel
still felt that purpose while walking the streets in L.A. two weeks ago. As
almost every night, a band of vamps were harrassing a young girl. Fighting
off as much as he could, Angel grabbed the sobbing female and ran for cover.
He sensed the sunrise. The vamps he was fighting, however, did not. Protecting
the girl through the rest of the day, partially by choice and partially by
force, Angel had begun to feel sick. He thought it was some bad blood, or
that he was just hungry for more, but as the day dragged on he got worse.
Getting paler (than usual) Angel curled up on a spare bed. His chest rose and
fell by habit. Suddenly, it stopped. Angel's eyes burst open, and he gasped
for air. Coughing violently, he rolled off the bed. After finally regaining
control, Angel looked up. He was staring directly into the sun. And he wasn't
burning up. - -

"Angel?" Buffy's face came back into focus. Angel felt pangs shoot up his arm
again as Buffy lightly wetted his cut. He saw the concerned look on her face
and knew she didn't mean to hurt him. He reached up and touched a hand to her
cheek.

Buffy jumped at the . . . warmth . . . she felt as he touched her. She felt
it in his other hand too, but brushed it off as from the blood. Now she knew
something wasn't right. Trying to relieve her apprehensions without scaring
Angel, Buffy carefully slid closer to Angel, hoping to see if it was just his
 hands that were warm. She mirrored his actions, touching her hand to his
cheek. It was warm. She touched his forehead, it was warm. She touched his
nose. Warm. She moved closer, and touched his lips. With hers.

Her mind was reeling. Her body surged with warmth as she kissed him, not the
usual chill she would get. Pulling him closer to her, Buffy heard a soft
noise in the hallway.

"Got the first - aid kit Slayer." said Spike, as he walked into the room.
 
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