Designed For Perfect Happiness

Disclaimer: For legal purposes, Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt and the rest of their posse own the characters from the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel the Series. BUT IN ALL OTHER WAYS THAT ARE MUCH MORE IMPORTANT- Buffy owns Angel and Angel owns Buffy. Always and forever.

Feedback: Hey, if not for me- then for all the terrific S/D and B/A fanfiction writers out there. You guys are all super talented and make our lives easier during these sad times of post Buffy and Angel breakup.

Dedication: To Sara-Lee, thank you for being my friend, helping me with this fic and so much more. I hope this makes you feel better! And always to all the B/A and S/D shippers, I love you guys! We are a force to be reckoned with- from our faith and efforts, Buffy and Angel will be together again. We’ll get our day!

Distribution: Wow? You actually want this? Well email me and I'll give it you on a silver platter.

Rating: I would say R for sexual situations. No cussing though, because I don’t believe in it. Also, there will be an NC-17 part later, but I have also written an R version for those that don’t/can’t read NC-17.

Background: This takes place after the Buffy Season Five episode of INTERVENTION and the Angel Season Two episode, DEAD END.

Part I- I Was Made…

The blonde flashed her biggest smile and moaned out huskily, “Angel!!! More! Angel, you’re a sex machine! Harder!”

Lilah looked at the robotics engineer in disgust. Was this really the best the mechanical world had to offer? The new executive rolled her eyes at the man. The robot herself, obliviously stood between them with that big completely unnatural smile. Why couldn’t this idiot engineer get this robot to behave properly?

The whole idea was so ridiculously simple. And it was almost too good to be true when Lilah’s contacts had informed her of this “Buffybot”’s existence. Stealing the robot from the Slayer’s witch friend wasn’t too much of a problem either. It was funny really- the contract department had hired this gem of a warlock… All he did was cast a glamour making that little red head think this monstrosity was inside the basement. Easy as pie.

Lilah turned to the engineer, “That is the BEST you can do? Oooh, Angel- harder? She sounds like bad porno actress. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re trying to strive for reality.”

The engineer just shrugged, “Well whoever originally programmed this one was the cream of the crop. I don’t think I’ve seen anything so exc-”

“I understand that-” Lilah interrupted the man. “But that was all programming for this Spike vampire. We need her for Angel.”

“There’s only so much the good science of robotics can do,” the engineer insisted.

The female lawyer looked at him with eyes of venom, “Then try the darkside.”

“I’ll be honest with you,” the technician began, to the lawyer. “Until we get the demonic substances I requested and the subject herself-there isn’t much more I can do. We’ve done as much as we can with orthodox methods. What you need lies solely in the supernatural realm, ma’am.”

“I assure you,” Lilah began, beginning to loose patience with the man. “The materials will be here soon.”

The technician nodded his head in sympathy, “I realize that ma’am. But we can’t proceed until I have them. That’s the only thing that will hold her soul to the metal frame.”

“It’s imperative that Angel can recognize her as Buffy Summers,” she demanded.

“Yes ma’am… But I still feel as if I should warn you,” the man continued.

“Warn me,” Lilah asked wearily.

”Once we mix the elixir and insert the tank inside the robot- if the tank begins to leak or she somehow looses the liquid- it’s POOF! No more robot, period. She’ll implode,” he explained in earnest.

The Buffybot turned to smile at the man, “Angel makes me hot and I explode for him. He penetrates me and puts his-”

Just when Lilah was about to scream at the robot- a buzz from her intercom stopped her. She pushed the little yellow button and listened to her secretary.

“Ms. Morgan, the messengers have arrived with the materials you sent for,” the secretary informed her.

The young lawyer smiled, “Finally! Send them in.”

The secretary buzzed in the men, carrying a large box and an unconscious Buffy Summers. The workers just left the girl on the Italian leather couch- as if she was a used limp towel. Lilah checked the box and upon seeing everything was there, dismissed all except one of them. Lilah held the one worker back as she walked over to the knocked out Slayer. The lawyer put her two fingers on the girl’s neck, checking for a pulse. It was steady, and the girl seemed to be genuinely unconscious. Lilah turned back to the young messenger.

“Did she put up a struggle,” Lilah asked.

“We managed to find her at home alone, we slipped her some relaxers and that was that,” he replied.

But Lilah was still unconvinced, “Did you make it so that-”

“No one will look for her. We wrote a realistic enough note, using the intelligence report we received from the research department. Her friends think she’s out to look for a demon-god named Glory,” he explained to her.

Lilah nodded and let the man go, “Good. That is all.”

The lawyer looked at the slumping Slayer and then back at the robot. While Lilah had compared the robot to the surveillance photos of the Slayer, she never really appreciated the robot’s stunning likeness until now.

Lilah could almost see herself in that corner office on the top floor. All she needed to do was have this engineer get his act together.

“Well Frankenstein,” Lilah said to the man. “Here are your parts. Time to make the demon his mate. And do it right!”

The robot walked over to look at her human double, “Wow! It’s the girl who looks like me. We’re very pretty, you know.”

The female lawyer laughed, “Yes… You are very pretty. And I think someone else thinks the both of you are VERY VERY pretty.”

The robot used her simple logic programs, “Oooh- you mean Angel right? Angel has pretty hair. And he’s a sex machine. When will you finish my makeover? I want him. I want to see Angel.”

Lilah patted the robot’s shoulder, “Trust me Buffy, when we’re through with your makeover- we’ll open so many doors… But Angel isn’t here right now.”

The robot pouted, “Is he behind those doors? Lilah, where is Angel? I want to make my Angel happy!”

“Oh I think you’ll make Angel happy,” Lilah smiled. “Very, very happy.”

Part II- Opening Doors

To say that Lilah opened doors for me- is an understatement. Thinking about my “makeover” reminds me of- well, before I was called. I mean, before I became the Slayer I pretty much was a real robot. I led an incredibly vacuous life style, and to be honest- the Buffybot was more intelligent that I used to be.

No, I am the Buffybot.

Well- not anymore. I can’t think of myself like that now. I’m different. Lilah has changed me. I really AM Buffy Summers now. At least, as much as a hunk of metal and silicon can be. This is all too surreal for me. It reminds me of a shock and horror I hadn’t felt since that first vampire attacked me in the cemetery all those years ago.

Before Lilah’s procedure I was that automaton, the mindless child that thought the world revolved around her. And now- afterwards… The world has never seemed so big around me- and how I’m just so… small.

“Buffy,” Lilah calls for me and I turn to her. “Very good. You didn’t flash that huge smile when I called you.”

“Lilah, I’m not like how I was before. I… I know better,” I try to explain.

Lilah seems impressed as she walks over to me, “Yes. I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure the procedure would work. How do you feel?”

“I feel more- more real I guess. It’s sort of hard to put into words,” I admit.

Her smile grows even bigger at that, “No, no. That’s… perfect. The procedure seems to be a complete success.”

“Just what exactly was the procedure,” I ask her, as she suddenly brightens when I speak.

“Well Buffy- what we’ve done is taken your already advanced programming and given you an boost. An upgrade,” she replies, putting her hand on my shoulder.

I look around her office and question, “A boost? What kind of boost?”

“This is the human Buffy Summers,” Lilah says, walking to the gagged and restrained girl in the corner near her desk. “We’ve well, for lack of a better term- ‘transferred’ a copy of her soul inside of you.”

My mind or gears whirl at the concept, “So I’m… Her. She is me?”

“Yes, you could say that,” Lilah says at her desk, pleased that I understand. “And I know how much you love Angel. This way, you can be with him. Just in the way the both of you have always wanted.”

My heart… or whatever is giving me the capacity to feel- leaps at the thought. To finally be with Angel- the only soul who loved me before I ever met him. The only one I’ve ever given myself to, purely and fully. I don’t mean just that he was my first lover- I mean, that no matter which way you look at it… He was really my ONLY lover.

My Angel.

To see him, to talk to him, to hold him, to kiss him to…

“You letting me make love to him,” I ask, already knowing the answer.

Lilah bowed her head a little while going through all of the pictures scattered on her desk, “I’m letting you do whatever you can to make him happy. He’s been going through a lot, especially with the whole Darla business-”

“You mean sleeping with her,” I add, remembering Lilah’s first attempts at talking to me before the procedure. “You want me to go to him, now.”

I turn to my human counterpart, and see the tears form in her eyes. No doubt that Lilah explained to her what Angel had done while Wolfram and Hart drove him crazy. And though I’ve always thought of myself as a pretty fast learner- that’s something I don’t quite understand yet. Tears…

“I think he’s been lashing out because he can’t have you,” she says, putting her hand on my shoulder again and giving me something to look at. “And, I really think you should go to see him.”

I look down at what she’s given to me and to my surprise… It’s our prom picture. Well- Angel and human Buffy’s prom picture. But I like to think of it as ours, and I guess it sort of really is ours. I stare at his face- how the photographer for a brief moment caught that ever elusive smile of his. I gaze at Lilah I think even she realizes just how much in love we are when she looks at the picture.

I know that I am still new to the whole being sentient thing, but I do know a few things. I realize that Lilah is using me. To try and get Angel to go evil. And I know the paradox human Buffy feels about this. I feel it too. But I can’t restrict myself like she does. The emotions she feels- that I share... They’re all just too intense.

I need him. I want him.

I want my Angel to hold me. To tell me he loves me, to kiss me and run his large soft hands through my hair. I want to show him how much I love him. And to tell him how much I miss him. I want… I want to make love with him.

And that’s all I need in order to make my decision.

I run my fingers over his face in the photo before I turn back to Lilah, “How can I get to the Hyperion from here?”

Part III- The Other Side of the Door

The sun is setting as the cab pulls up to the three-story hotel. I search through Buffy’s and my memory suddenly realizing that this is our first visit to his new home. There were times, when vamps from LA would come to Sunnydale- and I…err… human Buffy, would hear a tidbit about Angel’s new life. How his friend Doyle had died. How he seemed to really find a family with Cordelia, Wesley and someone else they called Gunn… I imagine the warmth and love that he must get from them.

And even though I’m a cold, steel robot- once I step through the hotel’s doors, I immediately feel the chill in the air. That part of her soul- feels it. Something is not right here. I go through my pools of data, and realize this might have something to do with Angel firing them…

Cordelia doesn’t bother to look up from her desk, “Angel! Where the hell have you been? I wanted you to get me that double latte almost an-”

She stops when she sees me. Her mouth opens slightly and then closes. Eager to make connections, my new consciousness oddly connects her to Riley. That movement… It reminds me of Riley’s annoying habit. And that thought isn’t just from the programming- the soul is scowling too. The thought of him in that run-down house… With those undead tramp vampires- sucking him down, and him wanting them more than me…

“Buffy,” she says in a quiet voice, bringing me back to the moment. “Wow. You’re the last person I thought I’d see here.”

“Hi to you too,” I muster, suddenly feeling as if I’m not ‘acting’ anymore. “I take it that Angel isn’t here right now.”

Cordelia haughtily blows the air through her teeth at his name. Her arms are crossed in front of her chest in a very tight way. Something I don’t think I’ve seen her do since well… since when she used to hate me in high school.

“Yeah… That dead deadbeat isn’t here right now. When he SHOULD BE,” she scoffs.

“Oh,” I causally reply, walking past the former concierge desk and further inside. “Do you know when-”

“I sent him out for coffee. And he was supposed to have been back almost 10 minutes ago,” she interrupts angrily shaking her head.

I raise an eyebrow at that, “You sent him out for coffee?”

“There’s been a few changes in management,” she coolly replies, sitting back down to read her fashion magazine.

And that’s when I remember what else Lilah explained to me earlier, about how Angel is working under Wesley and the others now. I’m not quite sure what exactly to say to that. I can think of a few things… Not very flattering things to the ‘new’ management at Angel Investigations- yet things nonetheless.

But that’s not important to me. What’s important to me now is finding Angel. Giving myself to him at a time like this- to let him love me the way we both want each other. Letting know that I care about him… And I’m not afraid to show him.

So I bite my tongue and ask Cordelia, “Is there someplace that I can wait for him until he comes back?”

“Well, the paper work and filing he was gonna do can wait until after you talk to him,” she allows, as if she made a great sacrifice. “Wait for him in his apartment, 217.”

I nod quietly and walk up the large stairs to the second floor.

^^^

I sigh at my weakened sense of smell. The soul part of me is grappling at that, trying to adjust without it. Personally, I’m used to it by now. I never really cared about it until I got myself a soul- or copy of a soul, anyway. I imagine that if I were REALLY Buffy, I wouldn’t need Cordelia to tell me the apartment number… I’d be able to tell by scent alone. Mates do that sort of thing.

I open the door and step inside the dark interior. It’s different from the other rooms I’ve seen in the hotel. It’s beautiful… The room reflects who he is. The dark purple walls, the browning Old World globe and dark wooden furniture… I see little knickknacks, and a few weapons hanging on various spots of the wall- and all of this just makes me want to be with him even more.

I’m suddenly thankful for my lack of smell as I reach his bed, staring at the blue satin sheets. Buffy would not want to smell Angel and his sire together in his bed- and frankly, I don’t want to either. It makes me nauseated. Or at least the robot equivalent of it. I recall my- or rather her anger at Angel comforting Faith. And he had done that to her in friendship- but the way he took Darla…

My newly sensitive mind tries to process this information. Look for a reason why. Why… Why did he do this? It was obviously a desperate measure- a last straw. He had been stripped down of everything: me, his ties to humanity- even his belief that he could do good in the world. And all of that left him vulnerable. Pushed Angel to the point where even Darla had more feeling in her than him… Pushed him to the point where he just wanted to end it all and let the demon inside completely out. To effectively, kill himself… Maybe it was all of those things. Maybe it was all of that and more.

I don’t blame him or hate him for it. Neither does human Buffy. Truth of it is… I have, well- we have done the same with Riley. For that moment in time- we… lied to ourselves. Shrank back into that automaton we were all those years ago.

A deep pressure falls in my chest and I feel that this bed is suffocating me. It’s crushing me- depriving me of existence, even if I don’t breathe to exist. It’s darkness. It feels like whatever is keeping me running will crush until I’m just… nothing. Is this what sorrow feels like? God… I need to be somewhere else now. Anywhere- but not right here.

I look for my salvation and I see it in the corner of my eye. I turn and smile, I’ve found him again. I’ve found myself again. Before me is Angel’s large closet, full of his clothes- his smell. And even with my pathetic sense of smell- I can very clearly tell it’s his. The sweet sandalwood aroma pours out like a hand, twirling toward me- beckoning me to enter. I do.

The closet is one of those large walk-in ones, big enough for me to come inside. Mostly filled with weapons, but his clothes all hang here too. I close the door and turn on the little light, letting myself get lost in his scent. I let myself touch all of his clothes, smiling when I see his favorite overcoat hanging neatly next to me. I run my hands over the trenchcoat, feeling the comfortable dark fabric. How many times have I touched this coat? Let him envelop me in it? Rustle against it when I cried on his shoulder? Watched it flap in the breeze as we patrolled? I take one of the cuffs and inhale the strong lingering aroma. It fills my senses and suddenly I’m with him again. I imagine his soft strong hand inside of the coat and rub the cuff against my plastic skin.

I can’t wait anymore. I want at least the smell of my love to be around me. I step outside of the closet and back inside of his bedroom. Slipping out of my shoes, I strip myself of all my clothing. Removing the last of my underwear, I leave it all on the floor. Walking over to the closet, I look for one of his shirts…

Any shirt- so that I can have him with me. My eye catches one in particular- a gray one. The one he wore when we were supposed to have our first date… Dark, but not too dark. A shade of hope. I slip that one over my naked form and brace myself for what I’m going to do next.

Robots don’t get tired. Unless you consider a low battery being tired… I’m fully charged, though. But I need to lie down on that bed. This is something I need to face. I need to face her… I need to face his past.

As causally as I can manage, I stride over to the bed again and slip between the neatly made sheets. I have his shirt to cover me, and I let myself breathe in the bed’s scent. To my surprise I smell- nothing. As if the mattress and the sheets have been cleaned over and over again. Devoid of anything- even Angel’s own smell. I lie comfortably and snuggle against the clean pillows. Hopefully soon Angel’s smell can cover this bed once more… soon.

Part IV- After the Waiting

I’m not quite sure what time it is when I hear noises at the door. There is yelling- it sounds like Cordelia and Wesley. But I mainly just hear Cordelia’s ranting about how he is still obligated to get her new clothes… I also hear another voice- a male, one that I don’t recognize. He seems equally angry as well.

And I hear Angel in return, surprisingly soft toned… Just taking all of it in. The yelling stops and Angel opens the door, then closes it quietly once he’s inside the apartment. From the little light that is in the room, I can make out the large axe he’s carrying.

He walks a few paces more before he stops completely in mid-stride. From my place in his bed- I see him, feeling out with his senses. He feels me- but not all of her, I think.

“Who’s there,” he asks out to the darkness.

“It’s me,” I say back.

Angel turns on a nearby light and his eyes bulge at the sight. Here I am- wearing practically nothing… In his bed. I shift myself out of his bed and stand up awkwardly straight. His presence in the room drives my new senses crazy. I feel the dusky tips of my breasts harden as I’m sure human Buffy’s would. They peek out from the pale pearl gray fabric and I don’t care. I want him to know how much I love him… And I want to spend all of my existence showing him.

“What… what are you doing here,” he asks quietly stunned, melting my metal frame as his eyes rake over me.

I walk a little over to him, “I guess Cordelia didn’t tell you I was here.”

Angel put down his axe, “Cordelia neglected to mention it. She was kinda busy with other things like-”

“Coffee and clothes,” I finish, moving closer toward him.

He nods and I realize the reason why he was late. Angel ran into some demons. He’s a mess. His hair is sweaty, rumpled and tangled as if he’s been fighting. His clothes are covered with a drying but still gooey orange plasma. And they give off a strange familiar odor… The literal gears in my head turn in remembrance- well, in human Buffy’s remembrance. They’re the smell of Toak demons. Hard little monsters to kill. And the smell… Though I’m aromatically challenged- there are just some smells you can’t ever really forget.

“You’ve been fighting Toak demons,” I guess aloud, helping him out of his jacket.

“Yeah… I sort of ran into a few and they sort of exploded,” he said, stepping out of his black boots.

“I fought with some a while back,” I offer, daring to help him take off his shirt. “You know the only way to get rid of the smell is to-”

“Buffy,” he bellows out, as I get close to him. “I-”

“Shhhh,” I stop him with my index finger to his lips, as I get closer to his body. “Let me help you.”

I take off the dirty garment and my mouth goes dry at the sight of his bare chest. The clear cut muscles…. All the way solid, stretching into his defined abs- and then much, much lower into his completely hard, thick and long-

“Buffy, why are you here,” he asks me, so desperately close.

And my mind reaches for something human Buffy has hidden away deep in her subconscious. For memories that Lilah nor anyone else really remembers. Except for Angel. Of his hot hands, his warm lips on my mouth and his burning body deep in my flooded insides… Wanting, having, sharing ourselves and our bodies with each other as he thrusted his way home into her… me.

“I remember,” I simply say, walking back to sit on the bed.

Angel slips into denial mode as he joins me, “Remember what?”

“Breaking your kitchen table. Eating peanut butter and chocolate. Licking cookie dough fudge mint chip ice cream off of your chest,” I reveal, facing him. “I could go on. We did a lot of things in and out of your bed that day too.”

Angel winces, and I immediately realize that he thinks I’m blaming him. Another person who’s angry at him. I’m such an idiot… God- as a human or a robot, I can’t say anything right. I shake my head in protest as I try to explain.

“You hate me,” he assumes, hanging his head.

I want him so badly I make him look into my eyes, “No, no- Angel… I came here because I love you… I love you. And I want to-”

“You want to what,” he pants, his cool breath on my face.

Our lips are so close to touching, I can already feel him inside of me… Taste him inside of my mouth. Hear him scream out my name in pleasure, and feel how happy I am to be with him like this. To have this chance with him again-

And before he even touches me I feel myself weeping for him, needing him now. The evidence of my arousal floods all of my lower body and I hear Angel slightly growl. All of a sudden his hands are on my shoulders, easing me down to lie on the bed. His hands roam over to my neck and I sigh at feeling him touch me. My head hits the pillows, and more than ever I want to be the mate he deserves. I’m going insane at being so close to Angel and not having him buried deep within me… To have his taste swimming in my mouth. His lips are so tantalizingly near- for me to kiss, to lick, to-

Suddenly his hands menacingly wring my throat, crushing half of my electric sensors. My eyes bolt open to see his dark sienna orbs burn with anger. Why is he angry? I search those eyes for an answer and find my own stupidity.

He knew… The whole time he knew… He knew I wasn’t her from the very start.

There’s no mistaking that fury- the knowledge that I’m a fake. To him, a cheap imitation of the real thing. That’s why he growled at me- it angers him even to see me or my arousal for him.

His hands and voice are rough, “Who are you? And why are you talking about things that are none of your business?”

I’m a robot! I’m not meant to take this kind of violence. I was only made to love him.

If he squeezes me any tighter…He’d snap my circuits like they were potato chips, not the sensitive microchips they are. His glare is murderous and I suddenly realize… He could rip apart my wiring… He could kill me.

“I-I-I just wanted to love you,” I squeak out, his hands choking my digital voice box.

He thrashes my head against the headboard, “That doesn’t answer my question!”

“Angel! Please! Please,” I plead, beginning to lose the relay signals in my metal feet.

His hands let go of me and I drop back to the bed. Before I can react I see him hovering above me with his axe- ready to strike. Even with my mechanical senses… Angel moved so quickly…

“How about you just tell me and then I’ll decide,” he says, the axe close to my throat.

My hands are high overhead in defense, as I try to sit up on the bed. Angel backs away from me a little, as I stand up off of the bed. My left hand goes to the shirt that loosely hangs on my frame… I undo the few buttons and slip his shirt off my shoulders- tossing it on the floor. I’m naked before him. Bare breasts, wet core and all…

He’s speechless at the sight of my nude body, but I can tell he’s still on guard. My hands roam over the swell of my breasts, down my perfect silicon flesh until I reach my lower torso. I see the shock on his face as I open the panel just above the back of my hips- revealing my true nature. All of the gears, fluids and wires are exposed- for him to see.

He stares mesmerized by the wonder, ”Well that’s… That’s… You’re a robot!”

“Xander called me a Buffybot,” I joke, closing the panel when I see he’s gotten my point.

The massive axe is still tight in his hand, “So Xander had you built so you could what? Hump him senseless?”

“No, Spike had me built… So I could hump him senseless,” I deadpan.

The rage fires in his eyes again. Yet this time it’s not directed at me. This time Angel is out to kill Spike. But he knows that can wait. Angel turns his attention back to me.

“And yet here you are,” he notes, struggling to keep his eyes on my face. “In my town. In my bed. Naked.”

I want to say that he wants my body- that he wants to touch and love me. But he doesn’t.

I know the real reason he’s looking at me. He wants the human Buffy. And even now… In my all of my erotic glory, he’s thinking about that Buffy and not me. I watch his eyes, he sees only the flaws in my making. I can tell- he sees the subtitles that are missing… All the little features unique to her.

“I told you before,” I say, still hoping to feel his touch. “I want to love you.”

“Are you sure that’s not your programming talking,” Angel sarcastically retorts.

I venture to move to him, “I’m beyond computer programs, Angel. I mean- before the procedure I was a vapid parrot. But now that they’re given me a chance I want to-”

“They,” he interrupts, stopping my movement to him with his axe. “They who?”

“Angel…I know I’m not exactly Buffy,” I say, pushing myself back to him my arms coiling to hold him. “But she and I are the same… We love you. I love you and I-“

“But you’re not her,” he contests, walking out of my grasp.

And that’s when it all suddenly hits me.

He doesn’t love me. Angel loves her- Buffy.

Not me.

Then that funny concept of tears finally makes sense to me. Hurt- real devastation invades my mechanical processor. Like deadly electric shocks, I feel it overflow into my circuits. Spreading through the tin and rubber of my body until it engulfs me whole. And then I feel it’s all too much to hold in anymore… I feel the tears fall down my cheeks.

My robot radar vision is blurry now- but I feel a cool hand on my shoulder. Through my sobbing, I feel his arms around me. Not in the angry suffocation they were before. He’s gentle and caring, just as how I’ve always- no… How SHE has always thought of him. And his arms wrap around me as my tears hit his cold chest.

“I always end up making you cry,” he says seriously, catching one of my tears before it falls down my cheek.

“You mean you always make HER cry,” I correct him through my wailing. “And even then you know it’s not true, because she loves you and you love her.”

I find myself borrowing my head into his chest as he tries to apologize, “I didn’t realize… I don’t- I don’t know what to say..”

I suddenly feel ashamed of myself and pull away, “You don’t need to say anything… I’m just a walking, talking sex toy… I don’t have feelings…”

Though we both know that’s not true. I love him.

But it’s not like I got those feelings because of anything I did or thought up. I stole them. From another person. A wonderful human being. I left her behind for the wolves. Now she is tied and gagged in a den of thieves. And she wallows in the knowledge her only love is being seduced by a monster wearing her face and body.

Suddenly I feel like the most horrible being ever created- mechanical or otherwise.

And I want to run away.

“Don’t,” Angel says, sensing my movements. “Don’t go away.”

I try to back away from him, “Angel, I-”

“I know you’re confused right now,” he said, holding my wrists gently but firmly. “Frankly, so am I… Look, beyond either of us- there’s someone else we need to think about right now too.”

“Buffy,” I answer and he nods his head at me.

“I need to know what’s going on,” he gravely entreated.

I just shake my head, “I don’t… Look at me, I’m a freak. I wouldn’t be able to help anyone. I’m just a se-”

“Don’t say that- You can! You can be more,” he asserts to me, and I see his honesty clear in his eyes.

And the words echo in my head.

~ You can be more… You can be more…~

I take an unnecessary breath and let the truth come out of me, “It’s Wolfram and Hart… After the gang took me away from Spike- Willow hid me in the basement of Giles’s magic shop.”

Angel’s eyes narrow in understanding, “It’s Lilah, isn’t it? She wants to flex her muscles now that Lindsey’s gone.”

“They took me and kidnapped Buffy. No one will look for her… They all think she’s on a Slayer-Only mission for Glory. They wrote a note-”

“Glory,” Angel breathed, remembering Buffy’s explanation near her mother’s grave. “But why did you come here to me? What was the-“

But before Angel can finish his sentence… He knows. He doesn’t need me to explain.

“They wanted me to go evil,” he surmises, and I wait for the anger to erupt from him.

Though the anger never comes. Instead, I see sadness. Pain from knowing he can never let himself love her. Any part of him- any happiness… And I see some recognition in his eyes, as if he sees past my metallic shell. His piercing gaze straight through to deep, deep inside my… our soul.

I feel his hand upon my cheek as he strokes me, “Buffy? Why? Why would you-”

“I love you,” I reply truthfully. “And we… We want to love you. The procedure… They’ve changed me. My soul, Buffy’s soul- that essence has been recreated. And placed inside of me.”

“But what if-”

“I knew it was wrong,” I interrupt him. “But I wanted to be selfish! I want you. And… I don’t know… I guess when I look back on it- I knew…”

“You knew what,” he prompts as my voice trails off.

“I think I knew that somehow, even if I could convince you to make love- that you’d… You’d… You would know- know that I wasn’t really her. And that because of that… we could feel each other, but that you’d never totally be-”

“Happy,” he finishes, concluding my confession. “Oh God… Buffy- even just a little part of you… ANY part of you- it would be so much, enough to make me…”

As his voice trails at the thought, my mind is fulfilled with emotions all at once. I have to see the strangeness of it. Angel calling me Buffy now, even though we both know I’m not really her. She and I may share a soul- a fundamental component to existence. But I am no more Buffy than a human being is a telephone or a speaker… I’m just like the answering machine- echoing the sentiments of a person far, far, away. And yet, when I look at Angel now, as his hands hold me so close- I feel…

But before I can articulate it- the room is spinning… I can barely stay on my feet but Angel somehow catches me. I look up at his worried face and anxious eyes that hang above me- yet I see something else… Hands… Not Angel’s hands. Someone else’s… Horrible hands… I don’t like the way they feel- they’re cold and unfriendly, and make me shiver with death.

“Buffy,” he calls out to me as I’m fading into my other self. “Buffy- please, please! Answer me, Buffy- ”

“They’re going to… Use me, I mean her- Buffy… Use Buffy for their dirty work… There’s a surgery,” I stumble, my voice hollow and empty.

I hear Angel trying to coax me from unconsciousness, “Buffy you need to stand up. I need you to walk with me.”

Suddenly I get full control of my limbs, and stand with from my own volition. As Angel’s face breaks into a smile of relief, I greet him with a countenance of despair.

“I’ve slipped unconscious,” I gravely inform him.

Part V- Wait No More

In a blur, he grabs his gray shirt off the floor and I get my clothes back on. Suddenly, we’re racing down the stairs. We have no plan or even a vague hint of what to do when we get there. Yet we’re running. Running through the corridors, down the first flight of stairs- until Angel stops.

I see a trio of unhappy faces- Cordelia, Wesley and a third young man.

“Where’s the fire at,” the man asks, and I realize it’s the same voice I heard yelling at Angel before.

“Gunn! We need to get to the Wolfram and Hart office building,” Angel says trying to step away from the lean body blocking him.

“Here we go again,” Cordelia cuttingly added.

“Angel,” Wesley began in an almost condescending tone, reminding me of the days when he used to be my Watcher. “I thought we had a discussion-”

“I know- but there’s not much time,” Angel says, tugging me in tow.

“Not even enough time to say hello,” Gunn counters sternly, looking at me.

“Hello. I’m Buffy. Sort of. Which is part of the reason we need to leave now,” I say back at him from my place beside Angel.

“Things are- I can’t really explain it right now! Buffy can explain things while we drive there,” Angel says hurriedly.

Wesley stops him, “Angel, we simply can’t run off into the night without knowing what we’re fighting. And besides- a very well to do client will be coming shortly. He will page me within moments of his arrival!”

“And I’m not asking you to,” Angel implores again, a desperately honest look caressing his features. “I’m asking you to trust me.”

“And it’s not like we can’t trust you right,” Cordelia yelled out to him, propping up her feet on the table in defiance. “Cause Angel has NEVER done anything to make us not trust him...”

“I can’t do this now,” Angel slightly moaned, grinding his teeth.

“And we can’t do this now,” Gunn shortly responded, going back to polishing his axes.

Angel opened his eyes in disbelief at the words. We both stand there in stunned silence as the trio continued to prepare for their meeting. Angel quickly turned back to me on the staircase, I don’t hesitate to nod my head in his support.

“There are some weapons in the closet,” he tells me, pointing to the other side of the large lobby. “Get as many as you can, plus the blueprints of the building. The plans should be inside too. I’m going to bring the car to the front.”

Once he sees I’ve understood him, he runs forward to the garage. On his way out he’s careful to avoid Gunn by the doorway. I run over to the closet and rapidly start my search. I’m sorting through all of the various items, tossing out anything I think we can use. The group says nothing nor helps me in my search, but I’m able to find what we need. My arms are full and I can just barely manage to close the door with my foot. Cautiously balancing my heavy load, I make my way to the door.

“Nice seeing you again, Buffy. Next time- call before us you ruin our chance to teach Angel a lesson,” Cordelia vexed.

Her remark surprises even me and I turn to her, “This has nothing to with teaching anyone a lesson! This is about saving souls- helping the hopeless.”

“This is for Angel’s soul as well as our own, Buffy. Angel needs to understand that we are his subordinates no longer. We are our own individuals. AND that we do have our clients to think about as well,” Wesley affirms, though he shoots an eye at Cordelia for her remark.

“We all ain’t at his beck and call,” Gunn agreed. “We have people who need us.”

“People with money,” I mumble, going as fast as I can to the door.

Each second counts for Buffy. There is no time for explanations… I need to run. My synapses fire with electricity, urging my heavy metal legs as quickly as I can out the door. And I can tell my comment hits them all a little too close to home.

“Buffy,” Wesley calls out for me in concern.

I hear him at the door, as I pass the end of the covered patio. But I also hear a loud beeping, piercing the night air. Without stopping to turn my head, I know it’s coming from Wesley. It is a sound that I know commands him to stay.

I can already feel his regret as his eyes bore into my back. I feel all of their regret as Angel races to the curb for me. I drop our supplies in the backseat and hop in, still aware of their eyes on us. But as we disappear into the night, I also see a long, long, long white limousine quickly take our place at the Hyperion’s front curb…

The large black convertible is screaming down the street off onto LA’s highways as we both try to think. The highway is long but Angel speeds down the roads as fast as he can.

He begins to ask me, “The procedure-”

“They’re inside the building- called in the doctors,” I finish for him. “I think- it looks like the same room from before…”

“Before when they Xeroxed your soul,” Angel concluded, turning onto the off ramp that led them downtown. “The question is- how are we going to get inside there?”

“Maybe there’s no way to get in,” I say quietly, as we slow down to pass a large park next to the skyscraper.

Angel stops the car, just at the shady end of the vast empty green park. He turns off the ignition and moves his body to face me. He takes my little hands in his, and I look deep into his dark penetrating eyes of determination.

“We are going to get you out,” he vows, easily cutting through the paradox he’s just spoken. “We will find a way to get you out.”

“No,” I shake my head, hundreds of guards with sharp pointed stakes marching through my mind. “There is no way we can get secretly inside.”

Angel remains quiet at my remark as he my massages the non-existent muscles under my silicon skin. The action is calming and I naturally close my eyes at the feeling. I know he knows how he affects me, because I think I have that same command over him. That when he touches me, everything else is gone. My metal body is so light, but full of love and peace. And even in these dire circumstances, I can’t deny how wonderful it feels for him to touch me. I could never really deny how he makes me feel…

“There might not be a way for us to get secretly inside,” Angel said in sudden realization, but before I can say anything he turns to me. “But there is a way to get you out.”

Part VI- The Price

“Are you ready,” he asks me, as we walk closer to the doors of the massive building. “Do you think you’ll be able to-”

I turn and tremble slightly as I say, “You’re the one who’s just going to stomp right in there and get caught!”

“Not caught,” he contends. “Just a little distraction. Once I’m in, all the guards will be called in for me. Do you know where she is?“

“I think so. They put her in that empty office you were talking about, with guards all over. But I still don’t like the idea of us being separated,” I argue, holding his hand. “In your plan you never told me exactly how you intend to dodge those half a dozen guards. All of them with sharp pointed stakes I might add!”

“I didn’t,” he says quietly as, removing to go inside alone.

I firmly grip his hand, “Angel you’re not going to-”

But he places a quiet finger on my lips to interrupt me, “I’m going to do whatever it takes to get you back with me. Whatever it takes.”

“Remember the ‘back with you’ part of the promise. Okay, ” I plead, my mouth even now crying out for his nearby kissable lips.

“I will,” he promises and I can see the desire flow in his eyes. “I have something to look forward to, you know.”

I smile at that, realizing again that he knows what I’m thinking. I give him a slight nod and he gets ready to go into action. We go to the side of building and he watches me as I swing his grappling hook high in the air. I see the iron shaft fly towards the stars, and hear its claws catch an opening far above. Yanking the rope, I look back at Angel to make sure it’s the right office. When he nods, I begin my quick climb high over the sidewalk and all the streetlights below. But my eyes are still focused on Angel’s, his amber eyes- waiting… Just as I reach the top, I see him disappear into the front of the building.

I dangle from the strong corded rope for only a few seconds before I can faintly hear an alarm ringing inside. From my wobbly view of the window, I can just make out several guards standing watch over her… me. At the sound of the alarm they run out the door down the hallway. Once the room is empty I quietly slip inside, easily getting in through the window. Too easy.

The warrior in me stills, wondering if this is set up. I check the nameplate on the door- Lindsey McDonald. This is the right office. And I see myself, or rather Buffy- lying face down on a gurney. I see Lilah’s office down the hall as well, it figures she would leave me- Buffy in here. She smothered me as her project- as if she were my mother.

I shake the thoughts from my head as I… well, I give myself a hand. Buffy is still unconscious and she not that difficult to carry. We both go out the window, I hold her tightly as I climb back down.

“Angel,” I scream out once I’m on the ground, running to find him.

Suddenly the glass doors burst open and I hear Angel yell, “Run Buffy! Run!!!”

I see Angel stumble out to the front, his hands firmly gripped around Lilah’s neck. He’s walking backwards, tugging Lilah with him. He yells at me to get to the car and I’m running. I make sure to stay in front of him, using my metal body as a shield for him. No guards try to follow us, and I see the black convertible still sitting at the end of the park.

“You don’t honestly think you’re going away from this all squeaky clean, do you,” I hear Lilah drawl as Angel nears the car.

“You tell me,” Angel snickers back, pushing her against the side of the convertible.

“Seems to me that you should be doing the thinking.”

“Please,” she coughed, Angel’s hand still holding her tight. “The guards only let you escape because I ordered them to.”

“After Angel took you hostage,” I shoot back at her, placing Buffy safely inside the backseat where I can keep watch over… myself.

Lilah ignores my comment but keeps her eyes steadfast on Angel, “All we needed was for you to get inside. One way or another… We’ve got you.”

“What are you talking about,” he demands, his eyes turning golden.

“Three… Two… One,” Lilah counts before I suddenly hear Angel scream.

“Angel! Angel,” I call out to him as he lets go of Lilah, dropping to his knees.

“It’s amazing how physics and metaphysics can so nicely be merged together,” Lilah gasps, as I try to help Angel stand up.

My mind turns murderous as I yell at her, “What is this? What game are you playing?”

“Whatever the game- I always play to win,” she cackles to me. “Angel is experiencing the effects of what we’d call regression…. The air inside Wolfram and Hart is the not only air conditioned- but mixed with a hybrid of vampire toxins all meant to cause the most pain possible.”

I shake my head in denial, “Vampires don’t breathe!”

“He doesn’t have to,” Lilah causally replied, straightening her blouse. “It infects just by contact with the skin. Angel sealed his fate the moment he stepped inside.”

“You’ve poisoned me,” he rasps out to the lawyer.

“Oh far much more than that… Among the little mix is my favorite- something called Lyeri. Familiar with it? Lyeri makes a vampire temporarily impenetrable- but only to keep its victims from trying to kill themselves. It’ll keep you in AGONY until the real drug kicks in… Doximall.”

I saw Angel’s face fall even further away at her words, “But Doximall will-”

“Turn you back into Angelus… For only a time, I know. But we’ve got a vial of blood and an Arabic Shaman that says otherwise. Just as a mental note for Angelus,” Lilah gloated, hovering over him. “Angelus- feel free to stop by for an appointment to PERMENANTLY remove your soul. Curses gone forever- guaranteed.”

To my horror, I see the young lawyer begin to way away. As if she had better places to be and the horrific scene around us was just a causal occurrence.

I can only numbly ask, “Why are you leaving him here?”

“The guards will come when our cocktail has taken its effect… And trust me, Tin Woman- Angelus will be the LAST of your problems once the REAL Buffy wakes up from her two surgeries,” she answers me.

“What’s that supposed to mean,” I snap back at her but Lilah only laughs at me, walking back to her fortress of steel and glass.

“Buffy,” Angel groans out to me, and all I can see is the pain from every poison take their toll on his amber eyes. “You have to go-”

“No,” I yell back in protest, cradling his head on my lap. “I can’t just leave you here!”

He tries to push me away and gruffly mumbles, “You’ve seen what he can do! Go!”

But I can’t go.

My soul refuses to let him go.

“I can’t… I can’t leave,” I cry to him, stroking his hair as he no longer has the strength to try and shove me away. “I can’t ever leave…”

Every sensor in my body is screaming… Screaming. Screaming at the injustice. Screaming for the loss of Angel’s soul. Screaming at the futility of my making.

I was designed for perfect happiness. Born of sweat and magic- coming to being in a world of sorrow. A world without my Angel in it. What good is my metal body for now? Pumped with the elixir of creation to move and touch for his pleasure…

The elixir of creation…

The elixir.

And suddenly hope enters my heart and I realize what I must do.

“Sit up,” I command him, wiping away my tears. “Angel- there’s a way to save you.”

“I can’t be saved,” he lamented in defeat, his back flush against the tires of his car.

I grab his shoulders and stare him in the eye, “I exist, I feel- because the elixir inside of me magically binds Buffy’s soul to my mechanical body. The elixir! Don’t you get it? Angel- you could never lose your soul again!”

“To feed off of you,” he says wearily, the last of his strength leaving his body. “To steal your life from you again?”

“You’ve never had to steal anything from me. I’ve always wanted you,” I say, tracing the lines of his lips with my fingers. “I’ve freely given you myself then- and I’m freely giving myself to you now.”

My words still hanging in the air, I do what I’ve wanted to do ever since I was brought into this world. Gently, I lean forward and softly kiss Angel’s parched lips. He is surprised at first, I can tell. But he hesitates only because he has no strength. Only for a moment. Then he slowly kisses me back, slightly parting his mouth to softly lick my lips. I wrap his arms around me and easily allow his sweet tongue inside- freeing myself to his marvelous touch.

As I am bathed in the brilliance of our love, I sense him strengthen beside me. His kiss grows bold and more daring, suckling to tease my longing mouth. I feel his cool hand in my hair, stroking and playing with the long strands. My hands wander down to his back, slowly kneading his muscles as I kiss him. Letting him absorb my love through my lips.

Absorbing love- and what will give him the soul that is rightfully his, forever.

I don’t think Angel realizes what we’ve been doing- until it is too late. By then I see he knows my fate, and can read my thoughts as are lips passionately play together… Talking doesn’t get across the message- I continue to kiss, my lips explaining in a different way. He makes me feel so light with his touches. I’m overflowing with his love. Overflowing- and suddenly floating… I’m floating away. Floating on a cloud of our love, I vaguely hear Angel call out to me- as I merge with the light.

Part VII- Forever Works For Me

Buffy Summers woke to the sound of crisp waves crashing upon the sun bleached California sand. The cool morning air tickled her skin as she found herself curled in the backseat of a car. She sat up only to be greeted by a pair of anxious brown eyes.

“Buffy,” Angel hesitantly asked, as the blonde turned to him sitting in the front seat.

Buffy blinked her eyes several times before she jumped at him to search deep into his eyes for his soul, “Angel?”

Angel nodded and before he could brace himself, Buffy launched herself into his arms- holding him closely to her body. He was all to eager to accept the gift of her warmth, and they both reveled in the joy- Angel was still here.

“I’m not sure how much you know,” he said, still holding her tightly. “Or how much you remember- but some people I’ve had run-ins with… Kinda demon guns for hire, a law firm if you can believe it- named Wolfram and Hart… They kidnapped you-”

“It’s okay Angel… I know,” she soothed, pulling only far enough away to stare into his soulful eyes. “I know- everything…”

“Everything,” he asked her, making the questioning connotation clear.

Buffy gave a wry grin at that, “Trying to explain to Giles how I have TWO sets of memories from the past day or so is easy…Watching him sputter and babble about how this might be rupturing the fabric of the space time continuum will be difficult.”

Angel smiled at the joke but then turned serious, “You did it. It worked… I’m here. For good. But Wolfram and Hart- they’re still probably trying to look for us. Sunrise was coming fast… So I took us here.”

Buffy looked around as Angel gestured to their location and wrinkled her nose, “Where is here?”

“The Toak demon nest,” he explained, moving to the backseat. “Not exactly the Ritz or anything but it’s near the beach and just-“

“No, you’re right- It’s nice,” she said, sharing his thoughts. “I can hear the ocean… I like it. And plus there’s the big-”

“Tactical advantage,” Angel concluded for her. “Yeah, the cave is hidden pretty well. It’s out of sight and with the Toak’s blood smeared on the wall- it should hold as a good magical shield if someone tries to come in.”

“Yeah,” Buffy agreed again, resting her head on Angel’s chest.

Angel gladly let her recline on him as she rested her right hand on his shoulder. Having each other to lean on both emotionally and physically was far better than any kind of medicine. As Angel leaned toward Buffy, he noticed the hospital-like identification bracelet that graced the dainty wrist.

“Buffy,” he asked, stroking the skin that lay beneath the plastic band. “What did they-”

“I think- they wanted to control me… I heard some of the doctor’s talking before they put me under. I only remember going under the knife once- but they I heard them say-”

“There would be two operations,” he agreed, taking a closer look at the words on the plastic.

“Lilah said last night- that when I woke up I’d be- trouble,” Buffy confessed, as she tried to look down as well.

“Worse than Angelus she said,” Angel remembered, looking at the tags carefully. “Encephalic Scelus implantation… ”

Buffy tried to make sense of the words, “In the hall I lick what?”

“Encephalic Scelus implantation,” he repeated, dumbstruck at the words. “I… I didn’t think it was possible- ”

“Possible for what? Angel, you’re scaring me with the cryptic,” Buffy worried, looking at Angel’s dubious countenance.

Angel softly rubbed her arms and shoulders in comfort, “I’m sorry Buffy- it’s just… It’s only supposed to be a legend. Happens only once and then… Never again.”

“An implantation?”

“That something could be conjured… Fashioned to be purely evil, concentrated in sin- and then attached to a living creature,” he replied gravely.

“It’s in me isn’t it,” Buffy asked quietly, as if she was afraid to say it out loud. “When? When will I-”

“You should already be,” Angel finished for her. “It needs its host in order to survive.”

Buffy stared down at the flexible hospital band, now like a grasping manacle heated to choke and burn her skin. The black perfectly typed letters seemed to be seared on the snowy white loop. But as Buffy looked more closely at the white ring, a tiny glimmer of hope crawled into her heart.

“There’s no mark, Angel… Look, I don’t see a mark,” she said excitedly, holding up her wrist for him to see.

“A mark,” he hollowly echoed, Buffy’s words not entirely registering. “A mark for what?”

“To show that I completed the surgery. See, this box is supposed to be checked,” Buffy beamed pointing to the empty box. “There’s no red dot.”

Even with his keen vampire senses, Angel held her wrist close to his face, ”No… There isn’t. But there is a red dot for the second procedure Lilah was talking about.”

The smile quickly faded from her face, “There is?”

“Immortalis onlay,” he read. “Oh god… It figures- I mean… If they could only conjure this thing once, they’d want to it survive forever. But that means-”

Buffy cocked her head to look at him, “Immortalis? As in I’m immortal? Like I can’t get killed immortal? Eternal youth?”

“Well I’m immortal- but I can still get killed… Just not in the ordinary sense of the word,” he said flippantly, then warmly looked deep into her eyes. “Buffy- if this is right-”

“This is right,” Buffy breathed, suddenly finding herself in Angel’s lap. “It’s always been right, Angel. I’ve always felt so-”

But Buffy’s words were suddenly muffled, as her lips found their way to Angel’s mouth. They lost themselves in the quiet, fathomless kiss- finally unafraid of each other and their unending love. Buffy cradled Angel’s thighs between her tanned legs, as his arms lovingly embraced her body in return. And though Angel had no need for breath, he pulled away from her gasping in need.

“Buffy,” he sweetly called to her, stroking her hair. “I love you. I always have- and there are so many other things in your life… I just don’t want to rush-”

“It’s been two years since I’ve really felt you inside of me,” she panted, her body rocking slightly against him. “A day- an hour, a minute… It’s too long of a time for me not to feel you. I love you, Angel.”

“You’re everything to me,” he professed to her, delighting in the feel of his honesty and love that swelled in his heart. “You’re my best friend. My love. My partner…”

“Your wife,” she pointedly added just before his lips slipped back to hers again. “Don’t think I haven’t read about Irish wedding customs… Our claddaughs…”

Buffy felt Angel’s smile against her mouth as he sheepishly replied, “That too… Mmmm, I think- its time for us to be husband and wife now.”

“Definitely,” Buffy cooed, as the back of her palm caressed the side of his face.

Angel’s sable eyes met with Buffy’s emerald orbs, and they both knew that fate had blessed their union. Though other people had drifted in and out of their lives, the ties between them had only strengthened. No one could ever erase or eclipse all of the consuming passion and love they had for each other. Destiny had tried to temper their love with distance. But now, Destiny saw what truly made their love wonderful- being fully able to express that love to each other. With their words, with their bodies, with their entire souls.

Their lips melded together again, as fate surrendered to will of their hearts and longing bodies. Buffy and Angel sank into their united souls, freely meandering to the release of their love. Suddenly the world seemed so bright- not from mere daylight, but from their love. It wasn’t as if all of their problems merely vanished, but were suddenly easier to resolve… Not as hopeless as they were when they were alone. Every aspect of their lives: their gender, their history, their personalities met all at once, in this moment- mouths engulfing but wanting more…

“I could do this forever,” she moaned, beginning to remove his dark trenchcoat.

Angel chuckled in return as he flung the garment to the front seat, “You do realize that’s possible now, right?”

“You know… We can do lots of other things forever too,” she whispered suggestively, her eager hands already unbuttoning his shirt.

“Forever,” he mused, losing himself in their smoldering lock of her lips. “Forever…”

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