--February 8, 1999, evening

Xander wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and let the child fall from his grip. Nothing like young blood! The sweet taste still lingered on his tongue and he grinned in satiated pleasure. He slumped down on a couch and watched the orgy of bloodfeasting that was going on around him. Vincent and his cadre had ambushed a family of five passing through town and brought them back to the Bronze. Five wasn't much for the dozens of vampires in the building and Xander had claimed one, the youngest, for himself, but the demons were sharing with unusual generosity. Even Cordelia had managed to take some for herself, before scrabbling back out of the way.

"It's all gone. And I'm still hungry."

Willow had come over to stand behind him, one pale, slender hand resting on his shoulder. Xander gritted his teeth, still stinging over her betrayal with Scott Hope. "Yes. I know."

"Our food supply is disappearing. All the people are staying indoors, they're more vigilant." The redhead drifted around the edge of the sofa to perch one leather-clad thigh on the arm. "We're feeding off the occasional tourist and even those are far and few between. We got lucky with these humans."

"I know that, Will. Things'll change. I'm sure of it."

She was persistent, hunger making her bold. "When? Xand, you've been promising us that things would be different, that we would take this town, like the Master did, that we would feed off the Slayer! Instead, she's gradually slaughtering us all and we can't make new vam..."

The sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed in the room and a few of the demons looked up in sluggish interest. Willow sprawled on the floor, one hand pressed to her cheek, the imprint of Xander's hand emblazoned on her fair skin. "You hit me..." she whispered, unable to believe it herself. Xander had never hit her in anger. Sometimes, their sexual antics took a turn for the brutal, but that was different.

"I'm sick and tired of your bitching! I'm sick and tired of EVERYBODY'S bitching!" Xander screamed, the attention of every demon in the room now fixed on him. Cordelia giggled, a bizarre, shrill sound in the silent room.

Willow rose to her feet, her eyes blazing yellow and her fury a palpable thing. "You promised us, Xander! You said, after that cunt killed the Master, that things would change. We'd feed, we'd spread and take over this miserable little town, until the streets flowed with the blood of the humans!"

She took a step closer. "What have we gained, Xander? The humans are smart, smart enough to lock themselves in their houses at night. Smart enough to listen to that librarian when he waves his musty old books in their faces and tells them it's Armageddon. They're smart enough to move far away from Sunnydale, while our kind starves!"

The assembled vampires were murmuring amongst themselves, the tide of favor swaying towards Willow. They knew that they couldn't exist on the scraps they were able to forage, animals and the one or two humans foolish enough to be caught out after dark.

Xander shook his head, knowing she was right, but unable to admit he was wrong. "We haven't given it enough time..."

"The Slayer has been in Sunnydale since November and our numbers have fallen to less than a hundred. She and her miserable little band of vampire killers are destroying us."

"We'll plan an attack, ambush her..."

"We need to move on."

Willow's words silenced the whispers spreading through the crowd. Xander looked up at her, surprise in his dark eyes. "Move? Where? The Hellmouth is here..."

"We don't need the Hellmouth. We thrive in its power, but we don't need it!" Willow turned and faced the rapt assemblage. "We should move away from this place! Go somewhere where we can feed and increase our numbers. Someplace where we can flourish."

She smiled, seeing the interest and support from the minions. Even the ragged brunette crouched on the floor nodded, a stupid grin stretching her parched lips. "Sunnydale has given up its bounty and it's time to migrate. Santa Carla is only a mere twenty-five miles up the coast. A tourist town of several thousand."

"Doesn't Santa Carla have a vampire master?" Scott called from his vantage point in the front row.

"Not a master, no. A presence, perhaps, but we surely exceed their numbers. If we band together, fight for the common goal, we'll take them easily enough."

Xander's fury mounted at having his tenuous power stripped away so quickly. Grabbing Willow's arm, he jerked her around to face him. "You can't be serious! How are we supposed to attempt this mass migration? Twenty-five miles is too far to walk in a night's time and I don't think we'll be able to buy a bus ticket!"

"We can steal the cars we need and drive..."

"And you know how?"

Willow smirked. "How hard can it be? You get behind the wheel and push down on the pedals. It's not brain surgery."

Snickers greeted her joke, but Xander was not amused. "Stealing a car is one thing, but driving it is another. Most of us here were in high school when we were turned and I'm pretty sure we didn't make it through Driver's Ed!"

Willow laughed outright. "I can't believe that's your sole objection! Xander, we probably have two dozen or more here who have known how to drive for decades! That you could even make such a stupid argument..."

Several voices called out with affirmatives. Xander let her go, struggling to hide defeat. "I think we should stay, kill the Slayer and burn this town to the ground."

"And, still we starve."

"We could harness the power of the Hellmouth..."

Willow shook her head and gently drew one long, crimson nail over Xander's lips. "To what end? To let loose a legion of deranged demons that would only drive us crazy and still steal our food? No, Xand, I think our time has come to say goodbye."

"I want the Slayer's head. I want her blood to run through my fingers," Xander whispered.

"Then, be a man and go do it. I have a trip to plan." Willow smiled and stepped away, Scott falling in behind her, a smug expression on his face.

The other vampires drifted away, some to hunt, some to mate in shadowy corners. Xander stood where Willow had left him, vengeance burning in his dead heart.

A thick fog had moved in from the Pacific just after midnight, cloaking Sunnydale in an eerily glowing blanket. Buffy, patrolling in Sunny Acres Memorial Gardens, had pulled her jacket closer and swiftly left the vulnerable site. The heavy moisture in the air made her feel damp and chilled and she shivered. Shifting her crossbow to her other hand, she wondered if it wouldn't be a good idea to call it a night. The town was as silent as the grave and she had yet to see her first vamp of the evening. Nothing and no one stirred, the peculiar weather keeping even the demons in their lairs.

Walking back towards the center of town, Buffy kept her senses on alert. The fog was the perfect cover for the vampires and a perfect excuse for an ambush. Pausing at the corner of Main and Sweetwater, the Slayer looked north, towards the Bronze. Even the usual heavy bass thump of the music was missing.

Not a bad thing, but it gave the fog even more of a muffling effect. Her heartbeat sounded unusually loud in her ears and her breathing particularly harsh.

Suddenly, the haven of Angel's bed seemed overwhelmingly tempting. Buffy scowled, trying to push away all of the memories that brief thought had evoked. Now that she'd had time to consider her actions, she felt embarrassed and awkward. What in the world had she been thinking? One touch, a kiss, and she had spread her legs eagerly.

A vampire...a creature of the fucking night and I allowed, no, I begged him to take me, Buffy thought angrily. Oh, but how good it was!

"No! I won't think of that anymore!" Buffy said out loud, her voice echoing strangely in the dense fog.

"Think of what?"

Buffy yelped and turned, the crossbow swinging smoothly up to her shoulder. Angel materialized out of the mist, only inches away, his hand batting the barrel of the weapon aside. "God! Can you be any more sneaky?" Buffy hissed, her eyes flashing with anger at the close call.

The vampire smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, I should've let you know I was there."

"Have you been following me?"

"Only for a half-hour or so. You're a hard little girl to find in this soup." Angel smiled and reached for her, but Buffy sidestepped and stalked past him. She regretted it a moment later, wanting nothing more than to throw herself into his embrace.

Angel sighed, puzzled over her hostility. "Kill any vamps tonight?"

"No. They're the smart ones, staying in tonight. Why aren't you holed up?"

Angel stopped in his tracks, surprised at her tone. "What's wrong? You seem...angry. Have I made you angry?"

Buffy softened, the hurt in his voice thawing her resolve. "Oh, nothing. I just...well, I'm still a little..."

"Embarrassed?"

She smiled ruefully. "And you read fortunes on the side, right?"

When he slid his arm around her waist, this time, she didn't resist. "I am, a little. I've never acted like that before. I mean, without any...inhibitions."

"You were perfect. Beautiful and warm and so very sweet," Angel murmured as he leaned down, capturing her lips in a gently savaging kiss. Buffy moaned and leaned into his arms, her mouth opening in response to the urging of his tongue.

She gave up. Tugging Angel back into a sheltered doorway, Buffy wrapped her arms around his shoulders, their bodies fitting together as if made to be so. Angel had dipped his head to her throat and traced the vein there with gentle nips, sucking on sweet mouthfuls of her flesh until the blood rose temptingly to the surface. Buffy smiled and tilted her hips forward, nestling between Angel's legs, her throbbing sex pressed flush against his hardness.

Angel pulled the crossbow from Buffy's shoulder and dropped it to the ground, then plucked at the hem of her black tanktop. Buffy raised her arms and he pulled the garment over her head and discarded it. She reached for him, but he took her wrists in his hands and held them above her head. "No...let me do it all..." he whispered against her mouth. Releasing one arm, he cupped her breast, hefting its plump weight in his palm, his thumb brushing the sensitive peak until it was pebble-hard. Buffy moaned and arched into his cool touch. Angel let go of her other wrist and sank to his knees in front of her.

Even on his knees, he was eye-level with her heaving chest. Gripping Buffy's slender waist, Angel nuzzled the underside of one flawless curve, his cold tongue sketching a path of fire along the crease between her breast and ribcage. He lavished kisses over her until he reached her aching nipple. Buffy cried out softly when he engulfed it in his mouth, his tongue and teeth pulling hard on the rigid peak. His hand came up to tweak the other nipple; she could feel the tugs he made all the way to her core.

"Angel...we...not here..." she gasped weakly, but the smoldering look that Angel gave her, around a mouthful of nipple, hushed her. He wanted her here, now, and she felt the last remnants of argument slide away.

The vampire released her long enough to latch onto her other breast, his teeth nipping sharply. Buffy smothered a shriek, a rush of wetness gathering between her thighs. Angel could smell her then and he snarled in response. Swiftly unfastening her cargo pants, he jerked them down, taking her soaked panties with them. Reaching behind her, he cupped her ass in his hands and pulled her to his hungry mouth.

Buffy pressed a trembling fist to her mouth, trying vainly to stay quiet and failing miserably. At the first touch of his tongue to her overheated flesh, she nearly lost it. She rocked forward until only her shoulder blades touched the concrete wall behind her. She rolled her head to the side and stared out at the street from behind a haze of pleasure. If, at that moment, a whole tribe of vampires had materialized from the fog, she seriously doubted she could do anything but shudder in delight at the touch of her lover.

Angel rubbed his cheek against the dark gold curls covering her treasure from him, the scent of her arousal thick in his nostrils. Using his thumbs, he parted her outer lips and slipped his tongue between the lips of her labia, searching for the source of her ecstasy. He wanted to bring her to a quick orgasm, the sooner, the better, so he could get her home and in his bed. His cock was already rampant and he wanted nothing more than to pull Buffy's legs up to his waist and push deep into her welcoming body. But, even in his Buffy-intoxicated state, he knew that to take her here would be a dangerous move, opening them both to possible attack.

Glancing up at his sweetheart, he smiled. She was completely gone, eyes tightly shut, rosy lips parted in delight. And in absolutely no condition to fight a vampire should one wander by. Turning his attention back to the task at hand, Angel twirled his tongue around her clit, lightly teasing the stiffened scrap of flesh where her pleasure was centered. He was rewarded with a guttural moan and a flow of liquid that trickled down his chin. Angel pressed a single finger against her opening, feeling how swollen and ready she was for him. He pushed the digit in up to the first knuckle, thrusting shallowly, working the tight little ring.

"Ahhh, in me...push it in me..." she whispered, one hand clutched in his thick hair.

Angel obliged her, giving her one finger, then another, pushing deep into her snug channel. His tongue never ceased in its torment and finally he took pity on her, taking her clit in his mouth and sucking hard, his teeth scraping the delicate shaft.

Buffy screamed then, the sound hollow and ghostly in the mist. She bucked against his face, nearly knocking him backwards. Angel grasped her hips and slammed her back to the wall, his face buried fully in her sex, his fingers stabbing inside her. His mouth was ravaging her drenched sex, drawing her climax out until Buffy sagged against the wall.

"God...oh, god...take me home, Angel...now!"

Angel rose to his feet, towering over the shaken Slayer. He wiped her juices from his chin, then licked the nectar from his fingers. Buffy's hot gaze fell on his lips, her own tongue tracing nervously over her own. She squeaked as Angel lunged for her, his mouth attacking hers with raw hunger. If it wasn't for the fact that her ankles were hampered by her pants, she would have eagerly spread her legs for him.

She came to her senses first, tearing away from him to pull up her pants and retrieve her tanktop. Twice, she had to bat his hands away as he tried to fondle her breasts. "Stop it! Let me get dressed, then you can have me all night!"

Angel snatched up the crossbow and grabbed her arm and all but dragged her to Crawford Street.

Author's Note: The town of Santa Carla is a reference to "The Lost Boys", a great little vamp flick from the '80's. Or I think it's the '80's...
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Chapter Seventeen
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