RATING: NC-17 for "lovingly depicted sexual activity".
CONTENT: Buffy/Angel; masturbation, aural sex, blood play, and some other fun stuff
DISCLAIMER: All BtVS and AtS characters, concepts, etc. are copyright FOX, The WB, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy Productions, and Kuzui Entertainment. This work is not-for-profit fanfiction, and no infringement is intended.
SYNOPSIS: ALTERNATE UNIVERSE/SET LATE IN BtVS SEASON THREE. Buffy and Angel have separated, knowing that they can never be together again for fear of unleashing Angelus. They are both having a difficult time with it.
NOTE: This story was written well over a year ago, and appeared in 'Passion', an adult Buffy the Vampire Slayer paper fanzine. For information about this zine (or about 'Passion 2' and/or 'A Watcher's Passion'), contact the editor at ZineLady@aol.com.
NOTE2: This story has been slightly modified from its original form.
//How can my seven dollar an hour job make me this tired?//
Buffy groaned as she hauled herself out of the car, and up the front stairs of the house she shared with her Watcher. Flinging open the door, she called out, "Giles, I'm ho-me!"
Ever since she had returned from her Journey, Buffy had lived with Giles, refusing any and all contact with her mother. Had she been a student at Sunnydale High, the living arrangements would have caused no end of commentary, but since she had been expelled two years before, she was not overly concerned about the town gossips.
She put her bag down in the hallway, and made her way towards the kitchen, intending to throw a little something on for dinner. Looking at her watch, she determined that it was high time for him to be home. They had reduced practice time at the library, for fear that someone would spot Buffy and accuse her of trespassing. So, to that end, Giles had bought a house, complete with plenty of room for her 'calisthenics'.
Reaching the kitchen, she decided to make a salad, figuring that neither of them had enough nutrition. After all, Slaying was tough on the body. She opened the refrigerator, hauling out the vegetables. Grabbing a knife, she set to work producing something edible. Her eyes teared as she chopped the onions.
It was just the two of them now, with Xander and Cordelia heavily involved and living in LA, and with Oz and Willow happily together at college in Massachusetts, Buffy and Giles were the only two left -- The Lonely Hearts Club, he often said in jest. Buffy still blamed herself for Giles' heartache, although he had never, ever put blame on her head. It was all her fault: Angel losing his soul, Jenny dying, Angel being sent to Hell...and then once he had returned from Hell, his subsequent disappearance.
Methodically, her fingers ripped the lettuce, agonizing memories flooding her brain. He was alive, he was out there, and they could never be together again. This, then, was her Hell, the knowledge that he was nearly within reach, but that she would never again be able to hold him, to feel his skin, or have him fill the ache deep within her body that his loss caused.
Soon, the tears streaming down her face had nothing to do with the onions. She dropped the knife and slid to the floor.
It was then, when she had completely given herself over to the tears, that Giles came home. Buffy was so wrapped up in her own misery that she did not hear his approach, not until he was seated next to her on the floor, drawing her into his arms. Cradling her against his chest, he kissed the top of her head. "Go ahead, Buffy, cry it out. Get it all out."
Buffy cried, mourning the loss of Jenny, the loss Giles stoically bore, the loss of her own childhood, and most of all, the loss of her Angel.
Nearly an hour later, Buffy emerged from her despondent haze. Wearily, she lifted her head, only to see her Watcher's tear-stained face come into view. Her heart clenched as she realized he had cried along with her, wrapping himself around her, protecting her. The only thing he couldn't protect her from was herself, and they both knew it.
She smiled hesitantly at him. "Hi."
"Hello yourself," he returned with a small grin. "I came home from work and what do I find? You, washing the vegetables the hard way."
Against her will, her lips curved in a smile. "You know me, always swimming against the current."
He laughed, amused as ever with her quick wit. "How about we finish dinner after we patrol a bit?" Nodding, Buffy leapt to her feet, reaching down to drag Giles to his. Anything to get her mind off of *him*.
Arm in arm, Watcher and Slayer strode into the night.
The patrol had been blessedly uneventful, and Buffy found herself in her room at a relatively early hour. She was laying in bed, staring at the ceiling, when the phone rang. Fumbling around the nighttable, she managed to snag the receiver. Her brow furrowed; it was at least three AM, so no one should still be awake, let alone calling her.
Praying that the phone had not woken Giles, she hit the power button. "Hello?"
There was silence on the other end of the line.
"Hello? Anyone there?"
Still no answer.
Buffy was instantly annoyed. "It's three in the morning, so I think it's really sick of you to be pranking people at this hour. Get a life, find a hobby -- "
"Hello, my love."
Buffy froze, her brain short circuiting. It couldn't possibly be him.
"Um, hi." She squirmed in her bed, unable to think of anything coherent to say to him.
"Hi, yourself." She could almost hear the wry half-smile in his voice.
"Well...how are you? *Where* are you? Why haven't you called to let me know that you were okay I was so worried about you I didn't know and I was out of my mind for so long you just took OFF, how could you just take off like that without saying anything to anyone..." She broke off, realizing that she was rambling, and worse, that she sounded beyond pathetic.
"Buffy -- I -- I think it's best that you don't know where I am."
"But you can know where I am? How is that fair?"
"This was a bad idea. I'm going to hang --"
"NO!!! Angel, *please*, please don't hang up on me, I need to hear the sound of your voice."
Instinctively reacting to the terror he heard in hers, he hushed her. "Shhh, shhh, I'm not going anywhere. I'm here. I'm here."
Buffy was absolutely horrified as she felt huge tears begin to stream down her face. Savagely wiping at her face, gritting her teeth against a moan of agony, she sat there, listening to him croon nonsense words to her, absorbing the comfort in them.
When she was certain she could speak again, she whispered, "Angel, please come back to me. I can't live without you. Please, I'll do anything, I just can't...I can't even think...I'm so confused...," She trailed off, no longer able to verbalize her torment.
"Buffy, we shouldn't. You know that. That's why I left. Do you think I wanted to be away from you, unable to feel you, to touch you? Is that what you think I want?"
She could hear the pain in his voice, and it caused her eyes to overflow once again. "No," she answered miserably.
"Buffy, listen to me. I love you. When I was mortal, I was too involved with trying to live life to the fullest to ever do something as mundane as falling in love with a woman, but now..."
"...Now that I do, I can't imagine my life without you. And I'm having a hell of a time convincing myself to stay where I am, when all I want is to crawl into bed with you and make love to you until you can't do anything but feel me deep inside of you."
Buffy gasped as her core clenched with need. She could feel the wetness seeping out of her, preparing her for a penetration that would never again come.
"Is that what you want, baby?"
She moaned, a sweet little sound that he savored.
"I know that's what I want. I--I miss you every second of every day. Even after all this time, I still look up, expecting to see you there. And when you're not. . .when you're not, I just want to die."
Buffy grasped the phone, holding it to her ear like a lifeline. "Angel...I don't know how I can keep it up. . .I'm so lonely."
Several silent moments passed, both savoring the hesitant contact with the other.
"Buffy, do you trust me?"
"Of course I trust you," she answered immediately. "Why?"
"I don't want to scare you. . .I just want. . ."
"What is it?"
"All I want is you," he said in a hushed whisper. "If I were there..." He broke off abruptly.
Suddenly, Buffy realized where he was going. The butterflies in her stomach began to flutter around, her nerves wide awake and active. "What would you do if you were here?" she questioned, both curious and afraid of his answer.
His voice deeper, rougher, he continued. "If I were there, I'd stare at you for a little while, allowing my eyes the pleasure of seeing you again, after all this time. Then slowly, so slowly, I'd strip the both of us, removing anything that might hinder my skin touching yours."
She blushed furiously. "Angel?" she whispered.
"I'm so wet," she said, biting her lip, "All you've done is talk, and I'm dripping with it."
Angel's jaw clenched, the irrational, savage part of his brain glad that she still responded to him, that she still needed him as desperately as he did her.
"I want you to touch that wetness for me."
She was scandalized. "Angel!"
"Buffy, I want you to slide a finger under your panties, into that sweetness. Tell me how wet you are for me, how much you want me."
Her face was hot with embarrassment, but she did it, sliding a hand under the covers, inching down her stomach, under the elastic band of her panties. She stopped when she felt the soaked nest of hair protecting the soft folds.
"Go on," he prompted, "Let me feel it, love."
Bolstering her courage, she slid deeper, her finger easily entering the slickness. At the pressure on her swollen flesh, she moaned, her hips bucking involuntarily into her hand.
"Does that feel good?" the dark, seductive voice murmured.
Dumbly, she nodded, then realized that he was unable to see her. "It does," she whispered.
"Keep on touching yourself. Slide that finger in deeper, and then brush your clit."
"Angel! I can't do that!"
"There is no embarrassment between us, there never was. Don't start."
"But I can't!" she wailed, clearly upset.
"Pretend your hands are mine, because I can quite honestly tell you there is no place my hands would rather be than where yours are right now."
"Angel," she moaned, "I need you so badly..."
"I know, my love, I know.
Tears streaming unabashedly down her face, she complied, pushing her index finger as deeply as it could go. She whimpered again, desperate for pressure on her engorged clit.
"Are you swollen?"
"Yes," she whispered.
"Angel...I don't know if I can..."
"I need you to...please...I want to hear you scream..."
Buffy blushed deeply. A battle was raging inside of her, a battle between her inhibitions and her desire for the man on the other end of the phone line. Suddenly, her eyes clenched, forcing more tears down her face. She drew a shaky breath, fortifying herself. "I've been without you so long..."
At her softly whispered words, Angel abruptly found himself in the midst of a consuming rage, irrational jealously rushing to the fore. "You've been faithful to me, haven't you?" he questioned, the words bitten off in his sudden rage.
She caught her breath. "There will never be anyone else for me besides you, Angel. I've never let anyone else into my body. And I never will."
Sanity returned to him in a rush. "Buffy, you can't live like that. It's not fair."
"Have you -- have you found someone else?" she asked, her heart fracturing anew at the thought.
"Damn it, Buffy, I'm not important -- "
"-- Have you?"
"The thought of touching another woman makes me sick, is that what you wanted to hear?"
"Then how could you think it could be any different for me? How could you think that I could lie there and let some strange man climb on top of me and thrust into me?"
Unwillingly, Angel changed, his face morphing into the familiar ridges. He felt Angelus closer to the surface than he'd been in a while.
"I'd kill him."
"I'd never do it. I love *you*, no matter if we're together or apart."
"I'd kill him and then I'd kill myself."
Her eyes overflowed once again. Her love for him consumed her; her heart hurt from the emotions stopped up in her chest. Her arms ached to hold him, but he wasn't there. The only tentative link they had was the phone.
It wasn't enough.
"Angel, please. Where are you? Let me come to you. I need you so much."
He heard the ache in her voice, and knew it mirrored his own. "Buffy, we -- I -- "
Buffy's heart fell to her feet. "Angel, don't do this to me -- don't break my heart all over again. Why, Angel? Why did you call if you were only going to hurt me, hurt *us*, again?"
He fell silent once more.
She was suddenly enraged. "Damn you, why did you do this to me again? I just got to the point where I could have a conversation about you without breaking into tears, and now it's like it was in the beginning."
"I spoke to Whistler," he blurted out.
"Aren't you lucky. What does that have to do with us, Angel?" The anger at his abandonment that had lain dormant for so long began to bubble to the surface.
"He told me something that he hadn't told me before."
Annoyed, she snapped, "And that would be *what* particular bit of earth shattering news?"
"When Willow cursed me, she didn't do it exactly right."
"She didn't exactly have an instruction manual!" //The nerve of him!//
Angel quickly qualified his statement. "Buffy, when I said she didn't do it right -- she left off the clause."
At his words, Buffy's breath caught up in her chest, and her body began to shake violently. She could not possibly have heard him right. "She--she left off the clause? *The* clause?"
"Yes," he confirmed, "*The* clause."
"Oh my god." Buffy sat up, dragging her knees up to her chest. "Angel, what does that mean?"
He didn't say a word.
"Damn it, Angel, don't go all Cryptic Guy on me again!"
"It means that there is no...impediment between us, besides common sense."
She was completely floored. After all that they had been through... "Then why aren't you here?" she asked, her brain unable to form a complete thought.
To her surprise, he chuckled. An involuntary smile graced her lips, because she hadn't heard that sound from him in eons. "Actually, I found that my willpower wasn't as strong as I thought it was. I had intended to call you from the safety of LA to tell you that it was for the best, that you had moved on to a new life, a better life...but somehow I found myself here."
"And here is...?"
"Look out the window."
Buffy gasped, the phone falling from suddenly nerveless fingers. Diving out of bed, she wrenched open the curtains, only to see a black car parked outside the house, with a tall, dark and handsome man leaning against the trunk. He had a cell phone in his hand.
Abruptly, she shook her head. "That can't be you. This is a dream, and when I wake up, I'm going to want to die all over again."
She could see him shake his head. His vampiric hearing came in handy sometimes. "No dream."
Her Slayer hearing was just as good.
Shutting her eyes, she let the immense relief wash over her. Then she silently whispered a thank you to God, and shoved open the aging window sash. Leaning through the opening, she extended a hand. "Come back to me, Angel. Please."
He smiled then, a full blown expression of joy. He tossed the phone into the back seat of the car, then climbed up the side of the porch beneath her window. When his hand touched hers, she pulled back with all her might, sending them both tumbling into the room.
They landed in an ungraceful heap of limbs, but they were too consumed in each other to care. Gripping the back of her neck, he pulled her face up to meet his. Their lips met as they clung together, each unable to let the other go. She couldn't touch him fast enough. Her hands ran over his body, reacquainting herself with his beloved form. Buffy hadn't realized she was crying again until he licked the trail winding down her cheek.
"No tears. No regrets," he stated in a soft but strong voice. "No more of the past."
She nodded. "No more old stuff. It's time for new stuff."
Their eyes met and held; the look conveyed more love than any amount of words ever could.
With a groan, he reached for her again, pulling her flush against his body, trying to get as close to her as possible, trying to make up for the endless separation. And then he kissed her, ravishing her mouth, penetrating and retreating, relishing the hot taste of her. She gripped his back, running her little hands under the hem of his shirt, over his tattoo, kneading the skin gently.
Angel desperately wanted to go slowly, to show her the enormousness of what he felt for her, but he found he could not. He was painfully engorged, the feel of her after all that time wreaking havoc on his control. She felt the same way; she had dreamt of him, ached for him, for so long... Their clothes were an unwelcome intrusion and they tugged at each other, frantic to touch bare skin, until they were naked, pale, cool skin pressed to tan warmth.
Kissing her deeply, he disentangled his hands from her hair, and ran them down her arms and up her sides, stroking the soft flesh that he encountered. She shivered as he ran over a particularly sensitive spot. He grinned, caressing that spot again, delighting in her indrawn breath. His hands slid up her torso to grasp her breasts, gently squeezing their firmness. Her nipples, already erect, hardened to a point of near-pain. Rubbing her chest, the whole while carefully avoiding her nipples, Angel kissed a path from her mouth to her neck and down, kissing and licking the sweet skin.
Buffy found herself clenching her hands in his hair, twining her fingers in the silky strands as he moved down her body. When his cool mouth enveloped her left nipple, she bit off a scream, pulling his head as close to her as she could manage. He could feel the tension in her body from the way she moved towards him, nearly trembling from need, to the small, hungry sounds erupting from the back of her throat. It humbled him, knowing that he could reduce this amazing, powerful woman into a shaking mass of flesh, just by demonstrating his love for her in its most primal form.
Showering kisses on those delicious buds, his right hand inched its way down her stomach, to the nest of curls covering her wetness. He touched her, parting the soft folds, needing to know that she was ready for him, that she wanted this, ached for this as much as he did. Using her moisture, he glided into her, rubbing, stretching her, spreading the fluid over her clit, massaging gently.
Buffy mewled, arching up into his touch. She looked at him wild-eyed. "Aaaaangel," she moaned, teetering on the brink of explosion.
The sight of her, arched back thrusting breasts topped by hard nipples at him, hips undulating under his touch, lips moist and reddened from his kisses, and eyes nearly closed from the desire running through her blood, just about did in the remainder of his self-control. Angel shuddered. The need for her blood was sweeping over him in waves, inextricably tied with his body's need for her wet heat.
Demandingly, Buffy pulled his head from her breasts to her mouth. "I need you...so much." Then she did something he never expected her to do -- she kissed the side of his neck. And bit him. Hard. The sweet pleasure/pain of the bite demolished the last of his restraint. His face changed.
He was afraid that he would frighten her, but all she could feel was his strength surrounding her, enveloping her. She tilted her head up and kissed him on his snarling lips, feeling his fangs graze her tongue. Angel's eyes slid shut, trying to grasp the ends of his absent control.
He failed miserably.
Buffy, sensing the need within him, bared her neck. Angel froze, resting between her thighs. He was so close, *so close*, to everything in the world that he wanted, but he was deathly afraid to take it. Memories of the last time they had been like this, the last time they had done this, flooded his mind. He was so afraid that Whistler had been wrong, that he would wake up as Angelus, and completely destroy what was left of her. His face morphed back into its human guise.
She could almost hear his thoughts in her own her mind. With her inhuman strength, she reached up and pulled him firmly, accepting no resistance, down onto her. Angel did the only thing he could do.
He gave in.
His cock brushed against her wetness, dragging moans from both of them. Buffy's head fell back and her hips arched up, taking the head of his shaft inside her, greedy for the feel of him within her. As Angel reached down to guide himself into her heat, he growled, "Look at me."
Her head snapped up, their eyes once again meeting. Her heart swelled at the look of mixed love, possessiveness and hunger raging in his gaze. Her whispered "I love you" coincided with his, and their lips met in an endless tangle of lips, teeth and tongues as he finally slid home.
They both gasped, the feeling of union overwhelming them. Exultation flooded through her as she sobbed out, "I never thought I'd feel whole again...I thought I would be broken forever."
Angel lifted one hand to stroke her cheek. "Never, my love, never broken. Whole, beautiful, beloved..." He rained tiny kisses over her face, worshipping her without words.
Then he pulled back slightly, only to return more forcefully at her pleading cry. He braced himself above her on his elbows, rocking within her, slamming into her tight, wet heat. She was so hot she nearly scorched him, branding her possession of him into his flesh.
Buffy was spellbound, mesmerized by the pleasure he was causing to well up within her. She purred deep in her throat, thrusting her hips up to meet his, welcoming his plunging strokes. Her legs were wound around his waist, squeezing him tightly between her thighs, demanding what only he could give her.
His control was gone; he gored her violently, consumed with driving her into orgasm. To that end, his hand slipped between them, fingering her swollen clitoris. That swift touch was all it took to send her flying over the edge into climax. She screamed his name as she clenched wildly around him, her whole body shaking powerfully.
The sensation of her core squeezing his cock catapulted him into ecstasy. His face changed as the pleasure slammed though him, and he snarled, seeking the one thing he needed to make his satisfaction complete.
Her face was upturned, baring her neck, waiting for him to slake his thirst. Licking her pale throat, his fangs ripped through the scented flesh to the blood running beneath. She jerked upward as he drank from her, the sheer eroticism of him nursing from her neck arousing her all over again.
Angel pulled back after a few long swallows, realizing that she was keening, begging him to take more from her. His lips claimed hers, whispering how much he loved her, how much he would always love her, into her willing mouth. He clutched her in his arms, rolling them over so that she was lying on top of him. She raised her head, the soft, dreamy look in her eyes warming him. "Angel...?"
"I'm here, love. I'll never leave you again."
She was fully alert then, eyes boring into his. "Promise?"
"I promise. Forever and ever, until the end of time."
Holding that promise close to her heart, Buffy snuggled down onto her Angel, loving the feeling of his strong arms enclosing her, making her feel safe again.