TITLE: Revisionist History XIV -- Post-Prom Fallout

AUTHOR: Lex

E-MAIL: lex@bitchenvy.com

SPOILERS: "The Prom"

SYNOPSIS: What happens after the prom is over?

PROLOGUE -- "Oh, What A Night"

When the music fades, Buffy tries to pull herself together.

CHAPTER 1 -- "Getting On With It"

Wesley is enchanted. And slow. Cordelia gets tired of waiting. So she takes matters into her own hands.

CHAPTER 2 -- "The Revelation"

Giles and Buffy retire to the library for a conversation, the ramifications of which will completely change her life.

CHAPTER 3 -- "A Stern Talking-To"

On his way home to brood, Angel encounters the last person he expects to see.

CHAPTER 4 -- "Emancipation"'

Buffy goes home and overhears Joyce on the phone. A confrontation ensues.

CHAPTER 5 -- "Staking A Claim"

Armed with information from both Giles and Joyce, Buffy tracks Angel to his den and they have it out. In a major way.

RATING: NC-17 overall

DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Really. No money. No sue.

CONTENT: Angst. Sex. Anger. Betrayal. Bitterness. More sex. A bit of high-handedness. And did I mention sex yet?

DEDICATED: To my listbabies for badgering me to write this monstrosity. I love you all dearly.

NOTE: All previous Revisionist History stories can be found at http://members.tripod.com/~Alexis_Victoria .

FURTHER NOTES: If you were as aggravated by this episode as I was, I suggest you check out The JMB website. It will lighten your mood a bit. http://members.tripod.com/~TheEvilTwins/jmb

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PROLOGUE -- "Oh, What A Night"

As the last strains of the song faded around them, Buffy clutched Angel closer. His arms were around her, and she was nuzzled into her favorite spot on his chest. All was right in her world.

Until the DJ's voice intruded on her little homemade reality. "And th-th-that's it, folks! The prom committee would like to thank..."

Nearly instantly, she tuned him out. What he was saying wasn't important. What was going to happen next was. Her heart was going to break again. And again, and again, until she wanted to die from it.

Angel was completely still, except for his hands, which were rubbing her back gently. Raising her head, she met his eyes. They were troubled, shadowed with pain. Her heart twisted a little more in her chest.

"So. That's it," he said quietly.

She shook her head. "Witness the end of my perfect high school moment."

He grinned. "It was rather...," he trailed off, searching for the right word.

"Prommy?" she interjected.

"Interesting."

"Nothing like the big parties from your day, huh?"

"Not that different. Except the hair was bigger then." Angel smiled at her and brushed a tendril of blonde hair out of her face. "Did I mention how absolutely beautiful you are?"

She had been trying so hard to keep the conversation light, but his husky words broke through her protective barrier, and a sob escaped her. Instantly, in an attempt to shield her tears from his gaze, she dropped her head to his chest, pressing her cheek against the hard muscle, willing the lump of misery in her throat to go back down.

"Buffy," he whispered, "Baby, look at me."

She shook her head.

Angel tightened his arms around her, and kissed the top of her head, ignoring the tears he could feel at the back of his own eyes.

Everyone else had deserted the dance floor, and they huddled there alone in the center, wrapped in their mutual anguish, and lost in each other.

=====

From across the room, they were being watched by the entire assembled Scooby Gang. Rupert Giles stood with his back to the wall, eyes focused intently on his Slayer and her lover. He could see Buffy's shoulders hitching slightly from the tears he knew bathed her pretty face.

Willow touched his elbow. "How is she?"

"Not of the good," Oz said, wrapping his arm around his girlfriend's waist. "I can hear her crying from over here."

"When did Deadboy show?" Xander asked, a frown on his face.

In a surprising move, Cordelia smacked him, a motion which afforded Wesley an impressive view of her cleavage. "Xander, get over it! They broke up, and her heart is broken. For once, lay off them."

Anya looked interested. "He scorned her?"

Xander rolled his eyes. "No powers, remember?"

Anya nearly snarled.

"Guys!" Willow hissed, "Could we please get it together? What are we going to do about them?"

Cordelia looked at Willow, her dark eyes sad. "I don't think there is anything we can do. Her world is falling in on her, and we can't stop it."

"I vote we try to get them to come out with us," Willow said. Everyone had planned to go to the Bronze for an after-prom party. The owners of the club were keeping it open all night to give the partygoers a safe place to hang out.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Wesley murmured, "I don't think she's going to be in the mood for festivities."

Giles looked at him. "He's right. She's not going to want to go and ruin your fun with her misery. You know how she is."

Willow was on the verge of tears herself. "What are we going to do, then?"

Pushing himself away from the wall, Giles said, "You all go to the Bronze. I have something I want to discuss with Buffy...and I'll let her know where you are going to be."

"Is it Slayer business?" Wesley asked, puffing himself up to his full height, "Because if so --"

Cordelia covered his mouth with her hand. "Shut up, Wes. You're coming to the Bronze with me."

Suitably chastened, Wesley stuttered out a confirmation.

With one last saddened look at their friend, the three couples left the room, leaving Giles behind to pick up the pieces.

=====

Giles was loathe to break up the couple clinging so desperately to each other, but he had things to discuss with his Slayer. He walked up to them.

Angel raised his head, and if Giles had ever doubted the depth of emotion Angel felt for Buffy, he did so no longer. The agony was clearly written across the other man's face as he held his beloved.

"Buffy," Giles said quietly, "I must speak with you for a moment."

Numbly, she looked at him. "Are there more hellhounds?"

"No, no, it's...something else. I'll meet you in the library."

She nodded tremulously, and he turned around and nearly fled the room.

Slowly, she raised her eyes to meet Angel's solemn gaze. "Duty calls."

"Buffy, I--"

"No, Angel, I don't want to talk about it."

"But --"

"I *can't* talk about it. Please, I...I can't." Her voice broke on a sob, and she tore herself out of his arms, hitched up her dress, and ran out of the room.

Angel's eyes closed, and he let the pain storm through him.

END PROLOGUE

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CHAPTER 1 -- "Getting On With It"

Captivating.

That was the only word for her, Wesley mused, watching Cordelia gyrate wildly on the dance floor with Willow and Anya. There must have been a temporary truce called when he wasn't looking, because Cordelia, Willow, Xander, and Oz were getting along as though nothing had ever happened. Even Anya was less annoying than usual.

If he didn't know better he would have thought they were drugged.

The song ended, and the girls returned to the table. "Where are the rest of the guys?" Willow asked as she hopped up on a stool next to Wesley's.

"Oz went to talk to one of the musicians, and Xander wandered off to the snack bar," Wesley informed her.

"Buffy?"

Wesley shook his head. "No sign of her, I'm afraid."

Willow's smile faltered slightly, and she slumped onto the table.

Cordelia moved to stand next to him, and he could feel the heat radiating off her glowing skin. She took his hand. "Let's dance, 007."

"Cordelia...this...*modern* music --"

"All you have to do is move your hips, Wes. You can handle it." With that, she dragged the Watcher out onto the dance floor.

Anya turned to Willow. "What is that all about?"

Willow shrugged. "Must be the Hellmouth."

=====

On the dance floor, Cordelia drew Wesley close, wrapping her arms around his neck and undulating slowly against him.

"Cor-cordelia," he stammered, "This is highly inappropriate!"

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Put your arms around me," she ordered.

He complied instantly. She grinned. Maybe he wasn't a lost cause after all.

=====

"Is that *Wesley* dancing?" Xander asked as he got back to the table, mocha latte in hand."

"Yup," Willow said, unabashedly gawking at the couple.

"Who knew he could bump and grind?" Anya snickered, stealing the latte from Xander's hand.

"Hey!" he protested, "That was mine!"

"Stuff a sock in it, Xander."

=====

The Watcher was moving smoothly and gracefully. Cordelia felt a surge of smugness. She just knew that he wasn't as big a dork as he appeared to be. To that end, she reached up and ran her fingers through his hair, mussing up the carefully arranged strands.

"What was that for?"

"Wanted to see what you looked like all messed up."

"Well?"

"You look hot."

His eyes darkened, and she felt him swell against her stomach. Almost imperceptibly, she rubbed herself against him. He groaned and gripped her hips. His hands were broad, holding her in place, and she felt a flood of need sweep through her. What would those hands feel like on other parts of her body?

Impulsively, she reached up, hooked her hands behind his neck, and drew him down into a kiss. She had expected his mouth to be slow and hesitant, but instead she found her lips being ravaged by his. His tongue swept across her lower lip, begging for entrance. She granted it immediately, and moaned deep in her throat when he slipped inside her mouth.

Cordelia jerked her head back. "You're been holding out on me, Wesley Wyndham-Pryce." She reached up and removed his glasses, folding them and placing them in his jacket pocket.

With his hair mussed, his glasses off, and his lips reddened, he was nearly irresistible. With satisfaction, she said, "I was right. Just like James Bond. Except with a nicer ass."

Wesley turned beet red, even as he ducked his head down to reclaim her mouth.

=====

The trio at the table was joined by Oz, who had finished his emergency musical consultation with the guys currently playing the Bronze.

"Guys?" he questioned, then was instantly shushed by all three of them. He turned his head to see what they were looking at, and was confronted with the sight of Cordelia and Wesley groping and necking on the middle of the dance floor. "Woah. Cordelia waits for no man."

Xander frowned. "Has she no shame? And him! It's practically statutory rape."

Willow snickered. "She's eighteen, Xander."

"Still, he's...he's..."

"A man?" Anya supplied helpfully, "Unlike you?"

Oz winced in pure male sympathy.

=====

The band had eventually given up despite Oz's help, and the DJ had stepped up to bat. Apparently, things weren't hopping enough in the Bronze, so he threw on a little Ricky Martin. The powerful Latin beat filled the room, and Cordelia grinned wickedly.

Breaking away from Wesley's plundering mouth, she began to dance by herself, raising her arms over her head, shaking her ass in time to the music.

He watched her, his eyes nearly black from lust. She danced closer to him, and whispered, "How about we finish this somewhere a bit more private?"

His conscience screamed at him, demanding that they stop this madness, but as she wrapped her arms around him, he suddenly ceased to care.

"My apartment."

Their eyes locked.

"Let's go."

=====

In stunned amazement, the gang watched Cordelia lead Wesley off the floor, in the direction of the door.

"Is she...oh my god, she is," Willow sputtered, "She's leaving with him!"

Xander's eyes were huge in his face. "She can't do that!"

"Why not?" Oz asked. "She's not dating anyone."

Eyes narrowed, Xander snarled, "Someone should go and stop them."

"And that someone would be you?" Anya asked cattily. "You're of the past, Xander. Stay there."

=====

Once they were in his car, Cordelia let out a little laugh.

"What was that for?" Wesley asked, his right hand shifting gears smoothly as he drove them to his apartment.

"BMW? Niiice." She ran her hand over the leather interior. "I thought all Watchers were required to drive cars like the Gilesmobile."

Wesley shuddered. "Good God, no. I've no idea why he insists on driving that rattletrap."

Cordelia slid over slightly, and touched his right thigh gently. His muscle tightened beneath her hand, and she grinned.

"Cordelia," he began warningly, "I would suggest, unless you have a sudden urge to have a car wreck, that you keep your hands to yourself until we stop the car."

Her magnificent lips pouted prettily, and he instantly regretted his words. "Well, perhaps I was a bit harsh..."

She leaned over and kissed the side of his mouth, her tongue flicking out to taste his skin. He whimpered.

Somehow, Wesley managed to keep his eyes on the road, despite her temptations, and in a thankfully short period of time, they found themselves in front of his apartment.

He refused to look at her as he got out of the low slung car, for fear that he would lose control and take her right where she sat. He had no idea what was wrong with him; he was never this...this...randy. It must be the Hellmouth's negative influences, he mused.

Whilst he was musing, Cordelia climbed out of the car and dragged him up the stairs by his hand. She was tired of waiting.

=====

The door banged shut as she slammed him against it.

"'Cordelia!" he wheezed, the breath momentarily knocked out of him.

"Now, Wesley, now." Her eyes were wild, her hair down, streaming around her shoulders in a barbarous flood.

She was a woman who knew what she wanted.

Wesley never stood a chance.

Conceding to her wishes, he struggled out of his jacket while she unzipped the dress and stepped out of it. He looked up, and nearly swallowed his tongue.

She was bare beneath. Completely and totally naked.

Dots swam in front of his eyes before he realized he was holding his breath. She was beyond captivating. She was a goddess come down to earth to plunder mortal men. He reached out to touch her, but his hands were blocked as she gripped his shirtfront and yanked, sending studs flying everywhere.

"Naked!"

Instantly, Wesley heeded her command, shrugging off the remains of his shirt, and unzipping his pants. He tried to step out of his pants, but was hindered by his shoes, and was forced to sit down on the floor to tug them off. The second his shoes were off, Cordelia grasped his pant legs and tugged, flinging the pants behind her. He was clad only in a pair of socks.

He looked kind of goofy, but Cordelia was past the point of caring. She tackled him, and they both tumbled onto the carpeted floor of his foyer.

"Cordelia!" he gasped again, his hands gripping her hips as she straddled him, "What is the rush?"

Panting, she grabbed his hand and shoved it between her legs, allowing him to feel the abundant wetness gathered there. His eyes glazed over, and he moved his fingers, thrusting deeply into her slick heat.

Cordelia let out a small shriek and tossed her head back, arching her chest towards him. Her breasts were magnificent, topped with dark, hard nipples. Wesley's other hand crept up to grasp her left breast, manipulating the nipple with his fingertips. She could feel his cock, rock hard against her ass, and she moaned again, rising up above him.

Her eyes met his, and she dropped herself down on his engorged cock. They both sucked in ragged breaths, Wesley immersed completely in the tight, wet warmth that enveloped him, and Cordelia enraptured by the immense cock stretching her wide open.

After a few seconds had passed in which she accustomed herself to his girth, she began to ride him, bracing her palms on his chest. Her knees were beginning to burn from where they were rubbing against the rug, but she was too involved to care. All that mattered was her aching clit as she ground it against him, bringing her pleasure to a fevered pitch.

Wesley, for his part, was fondling her breasts quite thoroughly, tugging on the stiff tips. His mouth watered for the taste of them, so he pulled her down until he could suckle her. The added sensations sent her closer to the edge, and she ground herself down on his cock more fiercely, until she was bouncing almost violently, keening his name. With her frantic motions, her nipple slipped from between his lips, and he moaned at the loss.

He called her name in a quiet, thick voice. "Cordelia, love, look at me."

She stilled, raising lust-crazed eyes to meet his dark gaze. He gripped her hips tightly, and with a low grunt, shoved himself upwards even as he pulled her down. The extra pressure sent her over, and she screamed his name as she arched above him, her hair flying around her shoulders. Inside, her rhythmic spasms milked his cock, bathing him in her juices. Spent, she slumped to his chest.

He gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to explode within her. It was a feat of massive self control, but somehow he managed it. After the crisis point passed, he wrapped his arms around her and cradled her against his chest, pressing a fond kiss to her hair.

Surprised, she looked at him. "You didn't...you didn't come?"

Wesley Wyndham-Pryce grinned at her then, a wolfish grin completely unlike any other expression she had ever seen from him.

She shivered.

He arched an eyebrow. "Surely you're not all tired out, Miss Chase?"

Then it was her turn to grin.

END CHAPTER 1

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CHAPTER 2 -- "The Revelation"

He was nervous.

Virgin-on-his-wedding-night nervous.

Giles paced in front of his office, awaiting Buffy's arrival. He didn't know how she was going to take his news. Hell, he didn't know if he should even tell her, but the look in her eyes tonight clinched it.

No matter the consequences, she needed to know.

He heard the library doors open, and the clacking of her heels on the floor as she strode into the room. He turned to look at her. The dress was gorgeous, and she wore it well, but the pink gown clashed terribly with her red, tearstained face.

When she saw him, she mustered up a smile. "So, if there are no hellhounds...what, the Mayor decided to ascend early?"

Giles smiled gingerly back. "No, no, nothing like that. I-I just wanted to see how you and Angel were doing."

Her eyes clouded over. "We're not. Doing, I mean. Nothing's changed. He's still leaving me." Her lower lip trembled.

"Buffy, I don't mean to pry, but why?"

"Why is he leaving me?"

Giles nodded.

"Damned if I know. He was rambling something about how one of us has to think with their head, and not their heart."

"There are so many problems inherent in your relationship with him..." //...The whole 'he's a vampire, you're a Slayer' looming foremost on the list...//

Fire flashed in her eyes. "Relationships have problems. It's part of the deal. He's all wigged out that I'm going to age and he's not. What the Mayor said really got to him. He doesn't want me to throw myself away on a man who can't make love to me, can't give me children. He doesn't seem to understand that I can't Slay and have a family at the same time. He's determined to save me from myself."

//He's not the only one.// "But you don't feel that these are insurmountable obstacles?" //Because, my dear, most people would. Most rational people, at any rate.//

"Giles, we've been dealing with these same problems since day one. I'm pretty much used to them. But it's like something set him off...I just don't know. All I know is what I want, and he's it. Even if I can never make love to him again," she blushed slightly, "I still want to be with him in any way that I can."

Ignoring the shot of pain the mental image of Buffy and Angel making love caused, Giles gripped her hands. "Are you certain that's what you want, Buffy?"

She was alarmed. Giles didn't sound right. "Are you okay, Giles?"

"Answer me." //Be very certain what you want, before I damn myself.//

"Yes!" she burst out, "Yes, I am absolutely certain that I want to spend the rest of my life with him, however I can get him."

He turned away from her, and was silent for several moments. Then he spoke quietly. "When my...friend...was here, during the Faith debacle...he told me something very interesting."

She put her hand on his back. His muscles were rigid.

"He said that whilst he was giving his little performance, he actually got a good look at Angel's soul. It's permanent. No amount of happiness can take it away from him."

Buffy froze in place. All she could hear were the words, "It's permanent" rushing through her brain. She tried to speak, but the only thing that came out was a low moan.

Giles faced her. "Buffy?"

Her voice was low, and thick. "The clause is gone?"

"Yes." //Bloody hell, yes.//

She closed her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered, and he didn't know if she was speaking to him or to God.

"It wasn't my doing." //And it wouldn't have been, ever. I'm not that big of a man.//

"Maybe not...but you didn't have to tell me." Her eyes were grave. "I know you have no love for him."

"My...feelings, such as they are, do not pertain."

Buffy stepped up to him, and cradled his cheek in her palm. "Your feelings are always important to me, Giles. Always."

Pleasurable agony flooded him with her touch on his face. He hitched in a breath, but didn't move, determined to maintain the contact for as long as he could. //Dear God, if that were only the case...//

His eyes held hers. She smiled up at him, happy tears wetting her face. Slowly, she moved closer to him, until she could rest her head on his chest, her arms snaking around his waist. Hugging him tightly, she spoke. "Giles, you know, I just realized we never got to dance."

He froze. //This is too much to ask of me, God. Far, far too much temptation.// His mind vetoed the idea rather aggressively, but his heart, desperate to hold her, overruled him.

"Very well then," he gripped her waist, "Shall we?"

She giggled, for the first time in a while. "There's no music!"

"We don't need music." Slowly, he began to sway with her, the dance just an excuse to hold her beloved form. With a little sigh, she relaxed into his embrace, rocking back and forth with him to the phantom music.

After a few precious moments, she spoke again. "You always save me, Giles. Always. Just when I think I want to die from the pain, you come charging to my rescue. Sometimes I wonder why."

//You wonder why? Can't you tell what I feel for you, how *much* I feel for you?// "You're my Slayer."

"You've gone beyond the call of duty for a Watcher, Giles."

"*You* are my duty."

"I bet you wish you'd gotten stuck with a different duty, huh?"

Faster than she could see, he seized her arms, holding her still in front of him. "Never, never think that."

"Giles --"

"Never think that I want to be anywhere but where you are."

His emotions were wild in his eyes, and she looked at him strangely. A few heartbeats passed, in which he cursed himself a fool, berating himself for his unruly tongue.

Buffy's face was solemn as she searched his. "I don't think I tell you this nearly enough, Giles, but I love you."

At her declaration, his heart leapt into his throat. For a few excruciating moments, he stared at her, forcibly holding back the words that wanted to pour from his mouth. Then, carefully, he drew her close, and pressed a lingering kiss on her forehead, wallowing in the scent and feel of her. "As I...I love you, Buffy."

After he had absorbed as much of her as he could, he gently pushed her away, and said, "You'd best get home. Your mother will worry. And you need to think about this."

Buffy nodded, and leaned up to kiss his cheek. "Thank you again, Giles. Thank you for this, and for being the best Watcher...the best friend...I could ever have."

=====

Giles watched her walk out of the room, her step determined, confident. He had handed her the key to her dreams, and he was content with that.

He had to be, for the alternative was unthinkable.

His own dreams were gone, dried up and blown away like so much dust. He had dreamt that it could have been him to make her happy, to end the ache that was always present on her face, but it wasn't to be. It was bittersweet, the knowledge that he loved her, for she could never belong to him. She was Angel's. She always had been. She always would be. He had been fooling himself by thinking anything different.

And yet, he would always wonder what would have happened if he had told her his other secret instead. What would she have done if, instead of telling her about Angel, he had done what he wished to do? If he had fallen to his knees before her and poured out his soul, revealing the unbounded love he held for her, the persistent ache for her that nagged at him every moment of his life...

But who was he to interfere in the path of true love?

To him, the answer was clear.

No one.

END CHAPTER 2

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CHAPTER 3 -- "A Stern Talking-To"

After Buffy fled the dance floor, tears streaming from her face, Angel stood there for several more moments.

Alone.

For the rest of his misbegotten life, he would be alone.

=====

On his way home, taking the long way past Willie's bar, he heard sounds of a struggle in an alleyway, sounds of flesh striking flesh, and went to investigate. As he rounded the corner, he caught sight of his most irritating childe dangling a grown man in the air.

"Spike," he growled, "What are you doing?"

Keeping his attention on his victim, Spike said, "Making the streets a little safer for your girl and her ladyfriends. This bloke just tried to rape a woman. I thought I'd show him what I think of rapists."

Angel grinned, an expression reminiscent of Angelus at his most ruthless. "Oh, in that case, go right ahead." He protected humanity, but only when they deserved protection. Predators were fair game.

With a sneer, Spike jerked his head back, and tore into the man's neck. After a few minutes of sucking, he raised his head. Proferring the body to his sire in a rare moment of sharing, he said, "Want some?"

Shaking his head, Angel declined the offer. "I don't drink human these days."

"Except the Slayer, eh?"

Angel raised an eyebrow. "Don't go there, Spike."

"What, she need 'space' again?"

Angel's eyes widened incredulously. "How do you know this stuff?"

Spike dropped the body, then shrugged. "*I* pay attention to women. Something you taught me a long time ago. Seems like you've forgotten. Besides, Willie likes her. Likes to gossip about her more." He focused on Angel's tuxedo. "And since when did you start hunting in formal wear?"

Angel looked down at his chest, momentarily confused. "Oh. Buffy's prom."

"The PROM! That's bloody great!" Spike guffawed, stepping away from the rapist's corpse. "My sire, attending a high school prom! Did you take pictures? Make nice with the teenyboppers?"

Angel snarled.

Peering at him, Spike looked him up and down. "You don't look right."

"Of course I don't look right, I have a soul. Remember?"

"No, no, it's not you being all soul-having...it's something else."

Angel shifted uncomfortably in front of Spike. His childe, despite their estrangement, still knew him too well. "You're bound to hear it soon enough anyway. I broke up with Buffy."

Spike did a double-take. "You? Broke up with the Slayer? Love of your wretched existence?"

"Yes."

"Well, *that* was the bloody stupidest move you've ever made."

Angel's eyes narrowed. "You don't understand."

"Yeah."

"You don't," he insisted.

"So, let me get this straight. The first woman to love you in your whole miserable life, and you give her walking papers?"

"I had to."

"You're a wanker, you know that?"

"Spike, I'm all wrong for her."

"Peaches, she's all you think about. All you ever think about. Even when you weren't all soulfilled, she was all you could talk about. Always 'the Slayer this', 'the Slayer that', 'I'm going to shag the Slayer into the ground'...God, man, it got old after a while. I knew this whole 'we're just friends' thing wasn't going to work. There's no going back, and you know that."

Angel was determined. "I love her. I love her enough to set her free."

Spike snorted. "Remember what you used to tell me about love?"

Warily, Angel looked at him. "No, what?"

"If you love something, set it free. If it doesn't return, hunt it down and kill it."

Angel glared at his childe. "You are not helping. Speaking of hunting it down, where's Drusilla?" The jab was meant to annoy.

It didn't. "Chained to my bed."

Angel snickered, and leaned up against the rough wall of the alley. "She always did like that." Another jab.

Which was also ignored. "I suggest you do the same to the Slayer. I bet she likes being tied."

For a moment, interest flared in Angel's eyes, but was quickly tamped down. "Oh, for Heaven's sake. She's the Slayer. You do not tie a Slayer down, if you expect to live very long."

"Oh, but what a way to go." Spike pondered that for a moment, a lusty grin on his face. "Besides, it's been so long since you've shagged her, I bet she'd do just about anything for your cock."

"I can't, as you so tactfully put it, 'shag' her. If I do, I lose my soul, and then she has to kill me."

"Oh, come on! The deal is, you get a happy and you lose your soul, right? Well, are there any positions that make you less happy? Like maybe kneeling on a bed of broken glass? Or doing her near a window, so the sun hits you in delicate spots? Maybe there are less happy spots on her, like if you took her in the--"

"SPIKE! This is my girlfriend you're talking about."

"Ex."

"What?"

"She's your ex-girlfriend."

Angel bared his teeth in annoyance. "The fact remains, I can't test it. What if just being inside her, in any way, makes me lose my soul?"

Thoughtfully, Spike said, "You know, if you weren't such a bloody loon when you lose your soul, it could actually work better that way. It pains me deeply to admit it, but I like Soulboy better than Mr. "Let's Destroy The World"."

"Spike, I'm touched. Truly touched."

"Yeah, touched in the head," Spike muttered. "So, what? You're going to leave her here, by herself? With no backup?"

"She has her Watcher...now, her Watchers, and her friends."

"And none of them, with the exception of the Watcher, can fight worth a damn."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, without anyone to watch her back, she's going to end up dead."

Angel flinched. "She'll be fine. Besides, I only distract her. I'm a weakness."

"*Her* enemies aren't the only ones that are going to go after her. Do you really think all your old chums are going to ignore the fact that you've left your woman unattended in this hellhole? I can't think of anything better to get you back than to kill the Slayer. 'Course, I think I like her, annoyingly enough, so I suppose I can't bring myself to kill her, but there's plenty of others who would be game. There is no better way to get to you than through her. Everyone, mortal and demon, knows that."

Angel felt the sudden need to assume the brooding position, but to do that, he needed a fireplace. He needed to panic, but he wanted to do it in the safety of his own home. He looked at his childe. "I'm heading home. Do you...have a place to stay?"

Spike grinned. "My sire, offering me shelter from the dawn. It's heartwarming. I may cry."

"Yes or no, Spike."

"Much as it pains me, I must decline. Can't keep Dru waiting. Wouldn't want her to start without me. Oh, but that's right...you haven't had any in a loooong time. Sorry, Soulboy." With a wink, Spike disappeared into the night.

Angel sighed.

"I should have left him to die in that alley in Whitechapel. Would have done us all a favor."

END CHAPTER 3

=================================================

CHAPTER 4 -- "Emancipation"

Sunnydale always looked pretty by night.

But that beauty was ignored as Buffy walked home slowly, her head spinning with too much information for her to handle. First, Angel had left her -- *left* her -- because he thought that was the right thing to do, and then Giles... There just weren't words for what Giles had done.

As usual, he had picked up the ragged bits of heart and pieced them back together. But this time he had given her a gift that was truly beyond price.

He had given her Angel.

=====

After a night of oddly restful sleep, Buffy found herself staring at the bright morning sun. Momentarily, the thought crossed her mind that she really preferred the night. The night was so much softer, so much less glaring.

And so much kinder on bad hair.

She got out of bed and made her way downstairs, intent on making a serious breakfast. She would need the energy for the argument she planned on having with Angel later that morning. But before she could walk into the kitchen, she overheard her mother speaking to someone. Curious, Buffy pressed her face against the door. She could hear her mother puttering around in the kitchen as she spoke on the phone.

"So, how's Chloe?" Joyce asked.

"Oh, that's awful!"

Buffy rolled her eyes. Her cousin Chloe was a walking disaster. No telling *what* she had done now.

"So he's a drug dealer? Oh, my."

A drug dealer? Chloe's tastes had apparently gotten worse.

"No, no."

"Well, Buffy's boyfriend isn't much better."

At that, Buffy perked up, though it was a bitch hearing just one side of the conversation. Maybe if she picked up one of the other extensions...?

"She's dating this man, and when I say man, I mean man. He has no business dating Buffy! She's a child! It's completely inappropriate."

At the mention of Angel, Buffy's eyes narrowed. This conversation was not going to a good place, she could tell.

"But I took care of it. I went to his house and told him that he had no right to see my daughter, that he was ruining her life by being with her. He tried to excuse their behavior, but I stood firm. There's no way I can let this nonsense go on. She has her whole life ahead of her."

Her mind was frozen as her hand pressed up against the door. Her mother had been the trigger that had set Angel off. Her own mother.

"No, I think he listened to me. And from the way she's been carrying on, I think it worked."

"No, she doesn't."

"Of course not!"

"If I had told her she would have tried to prevent me."

"She just doesn't understand what's best for her."

Buffy's hands clenched into fists, and she rested her forehead against the kitchen door, fighting back the urge to do violence to her mother.

"I know, I know. Kids."

"Oh, well, all right. I'll talk to you later, Sandra. Give my love to the children and Rob!"

Through her rage, Buffy heard her mother hang up the phone. After a few moments of deep breathing, she felt in control enough to open the door and walk into the kitchen. Joyce was at the stove, stirring something.

"So, Mom, did you have a nice *chat* with Angel?"

Joyce froze in mid-stir. Then she turned around, wooden spoon held in front of her. "Actually, yes I did. It was very productive."

"And so *completely* none of your business."

"Buffy," she said soothingly, "Now I know you're upset, but you really have to see --"

"News flash, Mom, I don't have to see anything. It's the great thing about being a superhero. My denial can equal yours."

"Now, Buffy..."

"Angel listened to your little speech, then he broke up with me."

Joyce's smile of triumph was ill-timed.

It hardened Buffy's heart further. "Yeah, I bet you like that. It is what you wanted, after all."

"It's for the best."

"Actually, it's not, and I'm on my way to Angel's to describe to him in excruciating detail why it's not, but I thought I'd clear the air with you first."

"Buffy, I --"

"Shut up, Mom. I'm tired of your little speeches about how you know what's best for me. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news here, but you don't."

"You're a child. You can't know what's best."

Buffy stared into her mother's face. "I know what's best for me. Look at me! What do you see? I'm *not* a child. I haven't been a child for years, since the first time I killed a demon with my bare hands."

Joyce flinched.

"Oh, I know you don't want to hear about that, Mom, never that. You never want to hear about the one thing that I truly excel in, which, bummer for you, happens to be killing things. I am the best there is at what I do. There aren't many people who can say that. But I can. And I fight, every single night, to keep this town -- this WORLD -- safe for you to walk around in your oblivion. I fight to keep you safe. I've sacrificed EVERYTHING to keep you safe, my lover, my happiness...God, Mom, even my *life*. But that's never enough. You want a normal, perfect daughter. I'm sorry, but that's the one thing I can't be for you. I can only be who I am."

"Buffy..."

"No. I'm done. I'm done trying to make you happy. I'm done jumping through everyone's hoops. I can't make everyone happy. But I can make myself happy. And I'm going to start. With Angel."

"So you're going to be with him until what? Until you die?"

"Isn't that how it works? Until death do us part? Oh, I forgot. You weren't real good with that part of the marriage vows."

Joyce sucked in a breath. "How dare you!"

"How dare I? How dare YOU! How dare you ignore me for most of my life, only to decide I existed when it was CONVENIENT for you! How dare you interfere with my life, a life that has been going on around you for years!" Buffy stalked over to her mother and slapped her hands on the counter.

"You never let me in on the great big secret!"

"Because you would have reacted so well! 'Gee Mom, I kill demons for fun!' You would have freaked."

"Can you blame me?"

She shook her head. "No. I don't blame you for that. I can't imagine wanting a kid like me."

"Oh, but Buffy, you could have so much..." Joyce was near tears.

"I *have* a lot, more than any other Slayer has ever had. I have a family, friends...and a man that loves me more than anything else on earth."

"He's a vampire!"

"I'm the Slayer. If it doesn't wig us, why should it bother the rest of you?"

"He's..he's *dead*! A walking corpse! It makes me SICK to think that you're crawling into bed with a dead man!"

Buffy froze, her blood chilling in her veins. "And now, since his curse is irrevocable, I'll be crawling into his bed a lot."

Joyce blanched. "That's right!," she hissed, "There it is. I don't want my daughter fucking a corpse! Maybe that makes me a bad mother, but that's the way I feel." She stood straight in front of her daughter, awaiting the outburst.

Only the counter was between them, but it might as well have been the Grand Canyon. They were never going to be at the same place, and Buffy finally realized that. A yawning despair filled her. She had lost her mother for good.

"Mom, I'm sorry you feel that way. I really am. I wish you could see Angel as the wonderful person he really is, but I realize you can't. And I can deal with that. But I will not tolerate you interfering in my life like you did. You were way out of line."

"You can't expect me to stand by and watch you ruin your life!"

"No, I don't expect you to do that. But I'm *not* ruining my life. He makes my life so much better. He makes me whole."

Joyce shook her head in frustration. "You can't mean to do this!"

"But I do. I love him. I love all of him, the soul and the demon. It's all a part of him, and I'll never leave him willingly."

Mother and daughter locked eyes.

"I can't accept this, Buffy."

"I understand, Mom. So I'll be out of your house by the end of the week. You won't have to worry about your problem daughter and her 'inappropriate' lover any more."

"You're going to HIM." The words were spit out of Joyce's mouth.

"Yes, I am. If you need me, you know where to find me." With those last words, Buffy turned around and walked out of the kitchen.

Joyce slumped to the floor as the tears began to fall.

Buffy had made her choice.

END CHAPTER 4

=================================================

CHAPTER 5 -- "Staking A Claim"

"I'm trying to do what's right here. I'm trying to think with my head instead of my heart."
"Heart? You have a heart? It isn't even beating."
"Don't."
"Don't what? Don't love you? I'm sorry. You know what? I didn't know that I got a choice in that. I'm never gonna change. I can't change. I want my life to be with you."

--- Angel and Buffy, "The Prom"

She was primed for a fight, blood boiling in her veins.

Buffy's argument with her mother had only confirmed her decision to confront Angel. She was tired of letting everyone else have a say in her life. It was time she took charge.

=====

"For once in your life, you are going to listen to every word I have to say, without interrupting me. I'll let you know when you can speak." Buffy said as she burst into Angel's living room, determined to have it out with him once and for all.

Angel's eyes widened, and his mouth opened, but with a heated glare from the Slayer, he shut it. From the look in her eyes, she would stake first and ask questions later, and as he had no real desire to fit into ashtray, he resolved to stay silent. He sat docilely on the couch.

"After my conversation with Giles," she said, being purposely vague about what she discussed with her Watcher, "I went home to get some sleep. But when I woke up the next morning, I overheard my mother on the phone with my aunt in Indiana."

He raised an eyebrow, as if to say, "And this has what, precisely, to do with us?"

"She was telling my aunt how she was worried that I was dating an older man, but that she had taken matters into her own hands and warned him off. She was rather descriptive in what she told my aunt...it was probably word for word what she told you."

He looked at the floor.

"Why didn't you tell me she came to talk to you? No, don't answer that. I know why. Because you brooded yourself into a frenzy when she left, and sprang it on me when you saw me that night. 'Hi Buff, watch out, there's a vampire behind you, oh, and by the way, I wanna break up 'cause your mother scared me.' When did you become such a wuss, Angel?"

Angel jerked his head up at the insult.

"You heard me right. You're a wuss. You constantly let other people interfere with what you want. What's between us is just that -- between US. Not between us, Spike, the Mayor, Giles and my mother."

At the mention of Spike's name, his left eye twitched.

"I love you desperately."

His eyes softened.

"You love me just as desperately."

He nodded.

"But yet you ripped my heart out of my chest two days ago and stomped on it."

That did it. "Baby," he said as he stood, "I'm --"

"Shut up! And sit down!" she barked.

Wide-eyed, he sat.

"You took it upon yourself to make a life-altering decision for me, without my input. *You* decided what was best for *me*. Angel, I love you more than anything else on this earth, but you don't know what's best for me. Only I know what's best for me. And. You. Are. It. I'm not a child. I lost my childhood a long time ago. I make my own decisions, and I think for myself. You don't have to think for me. I know what I want. And that's you. Forever."

She waved her hands in the air. "I know you have all these fears about us staying together, but you are just giving in! You're giving up on us, Angel, and that's what kills me."

Tears welled in her eyes as she whispered, "I never gave up. Even when you were *him*, when you were doing your best to drive me insane, I never gave up on you. I knew you'd come back to me. I just knew. And after I sent you to Hell...I still held on, for months, and months. And when I finally decided to let you go, to let your memory go in peace, you came back to me. God gave you back to me, and no matter what great evil comes to take credit for it, I know that for once in my life, God answered my prayers."

The tears overflowed and spilled down her cheeks. "Damn you, Angel. You can't leave me. I won't let you. If I have to follow you around for the rest of my life, so help me, I will. I've lived without you. I won't do it again."

Buffy approached him, eyes beseeching, palms outstretched. "Do you understand? Do you *hear* me?"

He stared at her for a long moment, then stood. "I hear you. But it doesn't change anything. Fate has it in for us, Buffy. Whether or not you choose to accept it, we cannot be."

"Why?"

"*Why?*"

"Yes, why. I want to know every single reason why we can't be together."

Angel's mind spun. He picked the most obvious off the pile of reasons. "I'm never going to age. I'm going to look this way forever. You will age."

"So you're saying that once I'm not blonde and firm anymore, you'll stop loving me." She crossed her arms over her chest.

He was appalled. "I'd love you no matter what you looked like!"

"Then if it doesn't bother me, it shouldn't bother you. Besides, I like to shock people. When I'm seventy-five, I want to go to the store and watch people talk about us when I pinch your butt."

He opened his mouth, then closed it, looking rather like a confused guppy.

"Besides, without having you to back me up, chances are I won't live to see old age anyway, so this is all moot."

"You're not going to die, Buffy," he gritted out.

"How do you know? You're leaving me, remember? I could be on patrol one night, crying about you, and a vamp could sneak up on me and kill me. And I'd be just as dead. Only if you had been here, you could have protected me." She peeked at him, knowing full well that what she had just said was horribly underhanded, but a small part of her felt that he deserved it.

Angel looked as though she had taken a two by four and slammed it into the side of his head.

"You're young. With your whole life ahead of you."

"I could be dead tomorrow. Pretty much ending my life. And I haven't been young for a long time, Angel. Being a freak tends to strip you of your youth."

"You can't know that you want only me. There are so many men, human men, out there." The words were bitter on his tongue and he inadvertantly clenched his fists at the thought of her with another man.

One look at her outraged face, and he knew that had been the wrong thing to say. "I_CAN'T_KNOW?" she asked in a deadly voice. "I can't know what I want because I'm a confused child is what you really mean."

"No," he protested. "That's not it, it's just that --"

"It's just that once again, you are making a decision for me."

Flustered, Angel blurted, "You have no experience with other men. Just me. "

"And you know that how?"

He froze. "When we...well, when we...when I lost my soul..."

"You were gone for a long time, Angel."

The pain that crossed his face wrenched another piece of her heart apart, but she had to finish.

"You just assume I was alone the whole time you were gone?"

"I know that you...went out with...Scott...while I was...gone"

"What if he wasn't the only one? What if I fucked my way through Sunnydale High while you were in Hell? Would that make me qualified to know what I want?"

Angel's mind was in overdrive. "You slept with Scott?" he blurted in a pained voice. "Never mind, I don't want to know."

She looked at him.

"Yes, yes, I do want to know. Did you sleep with him?" he demanded, jumping up and taking her by the shoulders and shaking her roughly.

"Jealous?"

He snarled, his face beginning to morph. She saw it, and was secretly thrilled. She hated hurting him like this, but he was too dense to be reasoned with.

"I can sleep with all the other men I want now that you dumped me."

Rage overtook him for a moment and he growled, "You will never sleep with any other man but me!"

She grinned. "Okay."

At his stunned look, she reached up and kissed his cheek. "Give up, Angel. You're outmatched."

His own words shook some sense into him. "Buffy, you can't ever sleep with me again. We can't make love!"

"Yes, we can."

Angel gaped at her. "Curse? Remember that? One moment of true happiness, and there goes my soul? Ringing any bells?"

"I haven't told you what Giles and I talked about last night. Seems that when his freaky ninja friend was here, when he was doing that light show to make Faith think you lost your soul, he checked your soul out. It's there for good. It can't be taken away when you have a happy."

At that moment, Angel's whole face lit up as his eyes widened. She smiled at him. "We can be as happy as we want."

Just as abruptly, his face fell. "That's...that's...wonderful. But it doesn't change us," he insisted stubbornly.

Buffy wanted to scream. "What is your problem now?!?"

As he groped for the words, she suddenly understood how deeply her mother had poisoned him. "Angel, by being with me, you're not hurting me, or ruining my life. You make me a better person. You make my life whole. When I'm not with you, I have this huge empty spot in my chest, and it hurts. That's what hurts me, when you're away. You only hurt me when you leave me."

He shook his head violently. "All I ever do is hurt you."

She covered his hands with her own. "You've hurt me. You have. But I've hurt you, too. That's what happens when you have two people who are too stubborn for their own good in love with each other. It happens. But we move past. We get over it and we move on with our life."

His eyes were swimming with tears, and she reached up on tip-toe to kiss his lips gently. "You're a part of my soul, and if you walk away now, you take that with you. And I don't think that's something I can live without."

"I'm so afraid of hurting you more," he confessed, moisture streaking down his pale cheeks.

"You can't hurt me, not by loving me."

His words caught on a sob, and he lurched forward and gathered her up into his arms. "I love you so much," he murmured, his face buried in her neck.

"I know. How could I not? It's the way I love you," she whispered, her arms wrapped around him.

Angel chanted her name as he pressed open-mouthed kisses to her neck, lavishing attention to her pulse points. She wound her legs around his hips, clinging to him. "Upstairs. Let's go upstairs."

His eyes met hers, and he felt his heart overflow at the promise he saw written there. Every dream he had ever wanted was in his arms, begging to be taken. He had tried to do what he thought was right for her, but in the end, it came down to the simple fact that she knew what she wanted.

And by some miracle, she wanted him.

=====

Angel reached the bedroom, and staggered over to the bed, dumping his precious armful on top of the comforter. Her eyes glowing, she held out her arms to him, her beloved.

"I want it to be slow," he gritted out, trying to resist the lure of her body. He stood away from the bed, knowing full well he had perilously little self control where she was concerned.

"Slow later," Buffy whimpered, "It's been so long, Angel...too damn long." He had barely touched her, but her skin felt too tight for her body, and if he didn't do something soon, she was going to go mad from it.

Her husky plea did him in, just as she planned, and he tore off his clothes, buttons and cloth flying as he stripped himself for her. On the bed, she did the same, wiggling out of her tank top, sweatpants, and underwear.

She barely had a second to admire his naked form, then he was on top of her, his lips ravaging hers, tongue claiming her mouth. His hands found her breasts, attacking the hard pink tips, rolling the firm flesh between rough fingertips. He wormed his way between her thighs, sliding down her torso until he encountered her slick flesh.

Buffy grabbed his hair, trying to pull him up. "Not now --"

"I need to taste you," he rasped, "I need you in my mouth."

Eyes wide, she watched his head disappear between her thighs at the same moment cool, rough velvet scraped over her clit. She sucked in a breath, then threaded her fingers through his dark, silky hair, arching her hips up to his tongue. She was already moist, but the wet touch at her core caused a flood to pour forth, drenching him in her pleasure.

He growled happily, deep in his chest, as he worked her, his fingers holding her open as his tongue lashed her hard clit, and licked her swollen folds. The pleasure enveloped her, and she fisted her hands in his hair, torn between pulling him up, and pushing him further into her heat. She was wide open for him; wet, achy, needy. "Angel," she pleaded, "Please, Angel, please..."

The sound of his name on her lips spurred him on, and soon she was screaming as the wave of her orgasm swept over her, taking her under, into the dark ecstasy of his touch. He felt the climax tear through her as she spasmed around his tongue, and without giving her a second to come down from the high, he crawled back up her body, putting his weight onto her. His arms braced on either side of her head, he ducked down to capture her mouth for a moment, letting her taste her completion from his lips.

She moaned, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling her body into closer contact with his. Her legs came up around him, making room for him at the core of her body. Angel jerked reflexively as his cock encountered hot, slick flesh.

Her legs tightened around his hips. "Nownownownownow," she begged, her tiny fingers grasping at his back, sliding down to his ass, trying to force him to fill the ever-present ache inside her.

He found himself at the entrance to her heat, and with a low groan of surrender, he pushed himself forward, into the scalding tightness that beckoned so irresistibly. Angel tried to hold back, tried to be gentle and tender, but his need for her was all-consuming, and he thrust in to the hilt. Her breath left her in a rush, and tears sprang to her eyes. He halted instantly.

"Are you all right? Did I hurt you?"

Buffy shook her head, biting her lip, her eyes crystalline with moisture.

With a careful hand, he touched her cheek. "Then why are you crying?"

She smiled tremulously. "I never thought I'd feel this way again. I ached for you for so long."

Her words wrapped around his heart with a satin fist, and his eyes closed. He dropped his forehead to hers briefly, then he rubbed his cheek against hers. "It's okay...we're never going to be apart again."

Reaching up, Buffy gripped his head, and pulled his lips back to hers, kissing him with all the longing she had stored in her heart. He melted into her arms, immersing himself in her love. He set up an easy rhythm, delighting in the way she effortlessly matched him, thrust for thrust.

She matched him in every way, and she was his.

She would always be his.

His long thrusts rapidly degenerated into quick, hard pumps, and his fingers danced between their joined bodies, teasing her clit, driving them both closer to the edge that beckoned. Her head tossed back against the pillow, as her second orgasm edged closer.

"Now, baby," he coaxed. "Come for me."

She whimpered his name breathlessly as he moved deep within her. His control was gone; his face had changed, his eyes glowing yellow. Without thought, she tipped her head back, baring the smooth column of her throat to his possessive gaze. Even if he had wanted to, there was no way he could resist that offer. Angel licked the big pulse in her throat, feeling her heart beat frantically against his tongue. His fangs slid into her, the pain oddly sweet, and he began to nurse from her.

The suckling pressure sent bolts of pleasure straight to her core, and with a loud cry, she exploded around him, clutching him helplessly as she rode the storm. Seconds later, he followed her into orgasm, slumping heavily onto her, swept away by the taste of her love. Through her own haze of pleasure, Buffy felt Angel reach his climax, and she enveloped him more tightly, keeping him safe in her arms.

After a few moments, Angel returned to himself, his face morphing back to its human guise, his fangs retracting from her delicious flesh. With effort, he managed to roll onto his back, taking her with him. Her breathing slowed as she rested against his chest, basking in the feeling of being back in his embrace again. Eventually, she regained the energy to prop herself up on her elbows, staring down into his face.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi yourself," he said."

"You're still you?" She knew he would be, but some part of her needed the confirmation.

"Still me. Warts and all."

"I like your warts."

"I'm a lucky man." His voice teased, but his eyes did not. They swore testimony to the words.

Buffy leaned down, brushing his lips with hers, entreating them to part for her. His mouth opened instantly, and her tongue slid in, imitating the way he was still held within her. After a moment, she pulled back. "Still want to leave me?"

"I'd die if I had to leave you."

Her eyes welled up with tears once more, the realization that he had nearly left her shuddering through her. She had almost lost him again, this time for no other reason than stubbornness and fear. "Promise me you'll love me forever."

"I promise."

"Swear you'll never leave me." Her eyes searched his.

"I swear."

Relief swamped her. Angel kept his promises. With a loud sniff, she lowered herself back to his chest, burying her face in the safety of his neck. His arms tightened around her as she snuggled into him. And for the second time in as many years, he fell asleep with her cradled in his arms.

=====

When he woke, they were in the same position. He shifted slightly, and she made a small noise, annoyed at her sleep being interrupted. He tried not to chuckle, but the sound escaped his throat despite his best efforts to the contrary.

Buffy's eyes popped open, and she took in the scene before her. She was lying on top of Angel, curled against his chest. "Please tell me this isn't a dream."

"It's not a dream."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

She regarded him suspiciously. "Are you *sure*?" she repeated.

"Yes," he said patiently.

"How do you know?"

"Let me show you," he whispered against her lips as his hands cradled her cheeks.

=====

Two hours later, a tiny, exhausted voice whispered, "You're right. This isn't a dream. This is *better* than a dream."

THE END