Beholder Chapter 4

DarkRhiannon@aol.com


An Angel of death stalked Sunnydale that night. Dark, deadly, and
utterly without mercy, he slaughtered vampires and demons throughout
the town, scything through the undead and evil until not one was left
standing. He stood, panting slightly, in the aftermath of the
slaughter.

She was right. There were more demons and vampires in Sunnydale than
he'd seen since Buffy and her mother had moved to the town from LA.
The forces of evil had overrun the Hellmouth in the month since the
Slayer's blinding. Angel wondered if Giles had realized just how bad
things were, or if he was still so focused on Buffy that he hadn't
given it any thought. The ex-Watcher thought of her as his child,
Angel knew, especially since Joyce and Dawn had died within a year of
each other.

Angel hadn't seen this much demonic activity even in LA. It called
his entire mission there into question. He scowled as he strode down
Crawford Street to the mansion he still held title to. The place was
a jumble of dusty furniture and empty rooms, but he felt her presence
there almost as strongly as in her own home. Here, she had kissed
him as if the world were ending. There, they had sparred, playing
with each other and mock-fighting with greater speed than they could
ever use with mere humans. Here, he had fought her to a standstill,
his words, aimed to twist and rend just as his sword would, instead
jarring her into using all her skill, all her power to send him to
hell, instead. And here, here he had taken her to the floor, ground
his feverish dead body against her tiny one as he sucked the life out
of her at her own demand. He was hard just thinking about it and
shamed both at his enjoyment then and his continued pleasure in it
now.

He felt guilty, god yes, but still…in the long daylight hours, when
he had no one to help and nowhere to be, that was the memory in which
he dwelt over and over again. How good she had felt under him, soft
and sensual, how similar to the only other real time he'd had her
writhing beneath him, how attuned to every breath, every beat of her
heart, he'd become ever since that day. Buffy had no idea how
difficult it was for him to even be near her after he'd taken her
within himself. The blood tie between them was as strong as any he'd
felt with those he sired. He'd marked her as his mate, she bore his
brand, and he could never truly let her go, though he'd tried.

Leaving her had been the hardest thing he'd ever done, and the loss
of their day together—their life together—was still an intolerable
ache within him. He could only accept it if he refused to even think
of it. He'd given her up, given up his humanity, and she'd died
anyway. It had all been for nothing. Like her death, given freely
to save her sister, who died anyway when the tower collapsed with the
closing of the Gate. And Angel hadn't even been there to help,
instead that had fallen to Spike.

Spike. His lip curled at the thought of his bastard offspring. Spike
was lucky that he'd never returned to Sunnydale, because Angel would
gladly have added another vampire, chipped or not, to his tally for
the night. Especially *that* one. He knew himself totally irrational
on the subject of Buffy and other men, but at least Riley had been
human. At least Angel had been able to feel that his decision, his
pain, his loneliness without Buffy, was in a good cause if she was
with someone who loved her and could give her the things that Angel
could never offer her. Sunlight, children, a life instead of the
undeath that he spent his eternity not living.

He scrubbed his hands against his eyes, brushing the dust of his
brethren from himself abruptly. Buffy was still everything to him,
but he had no idea how to make things right between them. He wanted
her, still, with every cell in him, loved her, needed her to be well
and happy. And she wasn't. And it was his fault. He should have
been there to help her, if he had, she wouldn't be blind now,
wouldn't have tried to end it. Her injuries meant nothing to him,
he'd meant it when he'd told her that he'd love her covered in
slime. She glowed with beauty from within…it wasn't the physical
expression of it that he was so drawn to, though he'd loved to draw
her from every conceivable angle.

No, she was as lovely as the day he'd first set eyes on her, bathed
in sunshine and innocent of what was to come. Her battle scars only
made her more precious to him. They were badges of honor, of pain,
each one. But how could he convey that to her? She was awash in
bitterness, alone, and lost, truly lost. What right did he have to
force her to live when she'd already lost so much?

He climbed wearily into his lonely bed and one last thought crossed
his mind as he drifted into uneasy slumber. *What does she have to
live for anyway?"

*

"It's not the best way to slit your wrists, you know," Anya blurted
out as Giles drove Buffy and her friends back to the house that
evening.

The conversations surrounding Buffy in the car died. "What I mean
is, if you really want to die, you should do long vertical cuts, not
horizontal ones." Anya added helpfully.

The others in the car stared at the ex-demon in shocked horror, their
light pleasantries drying up instantly in the wake of her statement.

"Ah-An, honey, tips on doin' the suicide, not really helpful," Xander
stuttered. "Buffy, she didn't really mean…"

He was cut off by laughter as Buffy began chuckling, first softly and
then louder. She turned her head toward them in the back seat and
Xander was surprised to see a smile, a genuine smile, on his friend's
face. She hadn't smiled like that since, god, he couldn't remember
seeing her smile since long before she'd died. Certainly not since
she'd found, upon her resurrection, that her gift had failed the one
she'd tried so hard to save. They had never even found Dawn's body
in the rubble, apparently she'd just gone back to being a green ball
of energy or something, for no human little sister was ever
discovered.

Buffy wiped her face, tears streaming from under her dark
glasses. "I'm sorry Xander, but you just sounded so…horrified.
Anya," she said, tilting her head slightly, "thanks for the
critique. I'd say I need more practice, but I think once was enough,
don't you?" Buffy smirked at them in good humor and turned to
Giles. "I think it's time for pizza and The Princess Bride tonight,
what do you say, Giles?"

The ex-Watcher glanced at his Slayer. She seemed bloody flip about
the entire thing, in his opinion, but he didn't want to be the one
who spoiled the mood. This was the best he'd seen her since he'd
returned from England. "Shall we stop and have pizza on the way to
your house, Buffy, or do you wish to order in?" She'd been so
sensitive about leaving the house, and he'd not wished to push it,
but if she was offering, then perhaps this could be her first
official outing. *Well, to somewhere not involving ambulances and
blood loss,* he thought morbidly.

"It's right on the way, isn't it? Let's just go in and eat it," she
said brightly.

Giles nearly rear-ended the auto in front of him, staring at Buffy
again. She was willing to leave the car? Perhaps the counselor had
been right to release her early, though he'd doubted the woman's
intelligence at the time.

"Buffy, do you have the cane they gave you?" Willow asked, as Giles
parked the car down the block from the pizza place.

"Yup. You brought it with my clothes, right?" Buffy replied. "I'll
walk next to Giles, K Giles?"

"That will be fine, Buffy. I will open your door momentarily," Giles
responded, cutting the engine and exiting the car. He nipped around
the front and opened Buffy's door for her. The Slayer climbed out
slowly and reached for his arm, stumbling a little over the curb as
she tried to straighten the cane. Giles cursed under his
breath. "I'm sorry Buffy," he said, "I should have warned you that
was there."

"It's ok, Giles, no big," she responded, but her face flushed with
embarrassment despite her words. She held onto his arm as she
extended the white-tipped cane before her, skimming the surface of
the sidewalk as she'd been taught. This was the first time she'd
used the cane in public, and despite the control she'd shown in the
car, she was clearly self-conscious about it.

Xander, Anya and Willow climbed out of the car behind them,
chattering like squirrels, in Giles's opinion, anyway. As they
neared a group of three young men loitering near the alley behind the
restaurant, Buffy's head snapped up, her face suddenly alert. She
dropped Giles's arm and shoved him behind her. He watched in confused
dismay as she lost the clumsy shuffle that had characterized her
movements for the past month and moved forward fluidly, the cane
dipping as she approached the curb.

Buffy dropped a hand to her abdomen, then turned her body slightly to
align it with the young man standing to the fore of the group. He
looked up and grinned at the sight of the disabled woman approaching
him. Buffy moved closer to him, stepping with exaggerated care from
the curb to the alley. Giles was about to ask her what she was
doing, when she exploded into motion before his eyes.

She lifted the cane and thrust it forward, directly through the young
man's chest. As Giles drew breath to yell, the young man exploded
into dust before the shocked eyes of the Scooby gang.

Buffy continued the motion she'd begun and swept the cane to the
side, where she hit the second man, sweeping his legs out from under
him. She flowed forward one step and drew back the cane, pausing for
a split second before thrusting directly downward. This strike, too,
was true, and the vampire had no time to react before he dusted.

The third vampire leapt forward onto her and knocked the cane from
the Slayer's hands before tumbling her into a rolling attack that
left her pinned beneath his larger bulk. As Giles raced forward, the
vamp pummeled her with quick uppercuts to her chin, dislodging her
dark glasses and baring her scarred eyes to the night.

In one lithe motion of her legs, Buffy flipped him, pinning him under
her supple thighs. "Giles, stake me," she cried, holding out her
left hand as she punched the vampire brutally with her right.

Giles had ventured out with nothing, he cringed at the shame his
Watcher ancestors must be feeling, but he darted into the alley,
snapped a packing crate and ran back to Buffy with a suitable board
as fast as his middle-aged bones could move. Without thinking, he
tossed the improvised stake to her, and was flummoxed to see her
catch and use it without even a pause.

The vampire between her thighs dusted, and Buffy froze, her battle
adrenalin waning and allowing thought to intrude upon instinct and
training. She reached both hands up to cover her eyes. "Giles,
please, where are my glasses?" she asked plaintively.

Angel stepped out of the shadowy alley, holding the glasses in his
hand. Giles watched Buffy, gauging her reaction. At first, her head
snapped up, as it had when she'd…sensed…the other vampires. But her
feral expression softened in the blink of an eye. "Angel?" she
whispered.

"Here, Buffy," he said, gliding forward to place the glasses oh-so-
gently on her face. "That was quite a show, Slayer," he added.

Buffy flushed, then slowly rose from the kneeling split she'd ended
in once the vampire she'd been straddling was dust. "Cane, please,
Giles?" she asked, and the Watcher grabbed the object from the
sidewalk and handed it to her.

"Wow, Buffy, that was…intense!" Xander blurted. "How did you know
they were even there? It's not like you could see them, right? I
mean like Daredevil or something?"

Buffy turned her face to him. "No, Xand, I couldn't see them. But I
can…sense…vampires. I sort of, feel them in my gut. I wasn't even
thinking, it just felt natural, somehow. I could sense where they
were. I guess I didn't lose that feeling when I lost my sight."

"That doesn't mean you should be risking yourself to attack them,
Buffy," Angel growled quietly, moving closer to her. "I had my eye
on them already. They weren't going to leave the alley alive."

"So I should just go back to hiding inside and let you take care of
my battles for me, is that it, Angel?" Buffy snapped, hurt at his
tone.

Angel drew back from her anger. "No, I didn't mean, I just. Buffy
please, when he started hitting you, I was afraid you were…"

"What, looking for an easy way to die? No, Angel, that actually
hadn't occurred to me till you just suggested it. I was just doing
what came naturally, but I guess you wouldn't understand that, being
unnatural and all, huh?" Buffy bit the words out angrily at him.

Willow saw the deep hurt in Angel's eyes at Buffy's harsh words,
before he shuttered his expression to its usual closed mask. Angel
made a convenient target for Buffy's anger, Willow thought. Anger at
life for treating her this way, anger at men for not loving her
enough, anger at the powers for choosing her and then abandoning her
to fate. He wouldn't fight back, he'd just take her jibes,
especially now. But Willow knew that Buffy's anger, and her earlier
light-hearted act, were just a cover for her desperately fragile
emotions. She needed to deal with them, and that meant no gang to
get in the way.

"Angel, good, now that you're here, you and Buffy can walk home while
we eat. We'll bring you some pizza later," Willow chirped, shooing
the others into the pizza place with resolve face and leaving the
lovers alone together in the evening shadows.

"What do you think you're doing, Willow," Giles hissed angrily as the
door slammed behind them.

"What Buffy needs, Giles," Willow replied. "She needs Angel, and
she's afraid to. She needs to know that he won't leave her again."

Xander chimed in, "Cause that would be a bad thing?"

Anya kicked him. "Don't be stupid, Xander. I'm not jealous because
Buffy has never wanted you that way, but everyone can see that she's
broken. She needs him. She has since he left."

Giles reluctantly admitted it was true. But that didn't mean that
Angel would recognize it. Or act upon it.

*

Buffy looked scared and lost without the support of her friends. She
held the cane tightly in her hands, more like it was a bat than a
cane.

"Planning to stake me with that, Buffy?" Angel asked jokingly.

"Planning to give me a reason to, Angel?" she taunted, before
shifting the cane to her right hand, somewhat reluctantly, it seemed
to him.

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said earlier. It just…threw
me…seeing you fighting like that. I was afraid you might get hurt,"
he admitted.

"I know, Angel," she sighed. "I'm sorry I snapped at you. I was
kinda weirded out by the whole thing. I mean, I didn't even do it
consciously…it just sorta happened. What if there had been a crate
or something in the way? What if I had tripped? It felt right to
attack them at the time, but I'm just so clumsy now and if I had
fallen they would have been on me and it didn't even hit me till now…"

Angel grabbed her by both shoulders and pulled her to him. He kissed
her hard, plundering her mouth with his own releasing his own fear
and stopping the increasingly hysterical words flowing from her
lips. Buffy struggled against him for a second, then relaxed into
his embrace, kissing him back with all of the repressed passion and
need that she'd felt for him for such a terrible, long time. It
wasn't until a car of teenaged boys drove by catcalling at them that
Angel pulled gently away.

"I think there are better places for this, don't you?" he asked,
panting just a little as her touch sent heat flashing through his
undead nerves.

Buffy sighed, then grabbed his arm and began walking with him slowly
down the sidewalk, her cane sweeping lightly before her. Being with
him again, even if it was only for a short time, made her heart
ache. He was all that she wanted and could never have. No one else
would ever measure up.

Angel looked at her beloved face, hidden behind the dark glasses that
he was beginning to hate with a fiery passion. They concealed her
gaze from him and he'd never before realized how much he depended
upon her eyes to tell him what she was thinking and how she was
feeling. The glasses were like a curtain, hiding her soul from him.

Her steps were hesitant, as if she didn't quite trust the cane to
warn her of obstacles. He hated to see her walk like that when she'd
moved just minutes before with her accustomed grace and power. That
was the way she should move always, he thought.

They walked at her pace, moving slowly through the fragrant evening
air, and Buffy felt the tightness that had been ever-present since
well before her maiming ease a bit at his presence. He slid her hand
down from his arm and clasped it in his own as they strolled slowly
homeward in companionable silence.

They turned the corner to her house and suddenly both were on edge
again. Buffy turned her face toward him, "Angel, do you see
anything? I feel…"

"Vampires," he growled, game face flowing on as the demon in him rose
at the promise of blood and death.

"What got them all stirred up tonight?"

"Um, I was a little, on edge last night after I left. I may have,
uh, killed a few…dozen."

"Ah, so I can thank you for this little gift, huh?" she teased with a
grin spreading across her face. "Anything on the pavement?" she
asked, moving forward more quickly.

"Clear," he rumbled.

"Go!"

"Buffy are you…"

"Just go! But don't get too close, it's hard to tell you apart when
you all move fast."

Angel nodded in agreement before realizing that she couldn't see
him. The last thing he wanted to feel was that cane stabbing him in
the heart. It hurt enough just watching her use it on others.

He leapt ahead, circling around the vamps to attack them from the
rear. He dusted two of them quickly, their fledgling skills no match
for his centuries of experience. The remaining four stood poised
between Buffy and him, clearly at a loss.

"Is that the Slayer?" one asked as she tapped her way toward
him. "No one told me she was blind!"

"She isn't, you idiot, it's a trick!" another replied. "Now kill
her!"

They surged at Buffy and Angel growled, worried that his love
couldn't handle two of them at once. His attention was distracted,
however, by the burly vamp directly in front of him. He punched him,
with no discernable effect, then backed up and assayed a roundhouse
kick which met with similar results. It was like punching and
kicking a rock. The vamp grunted and swiped at Angel with one meaty
paw and Angel went down. His attention fixed back on Buffy for a
moment and he watched in something akin to awe as she pivoted,
lunged, then reversed and managed to kill both vamps with opposite
ends of her cane. They'd never even touched her.

Heartened, he somersaulted backwards and pulled his sword from the
sheath on his back. He slid forward lithely and sliced open his
adversary's leg with one swift cut. When the mountainous vamp hissed
and clutched at his leg, Angel swung the sword in a neat decapitating
blow and moved forward through its dust to skewer the remaining vamp
on the end of the blade at the same time Buffy stabbed it with her
cane. The sword and cane ended up crossed with each other like some
bad three musketeers movie as the vamp dusted around them.

Angel was panting slightly at the exertion when Buffy bounded forward
into his arms exuberantly. "We did it! I did it! Angel did you
see?" she grinned up into his face, for all the world as if she was
gazing at him right then and he couldn't help but grin back at the
joy emblazoned on her face.

"I saw, Slayer," he emphasized her title and saw pride and happiness
flash across her lovely face. He had to, he couldn't stop himself,
he kissed her, grabbing her tiny body and crushing it to his own.

She kissed him back, nearly dropping her cane in her haste before she
remembered to loop it over her wrist. Angel scooped her into his
arms, still kissing her, and carried her into her yard and up the
stairs to her house. He set her on her feet at the front door,
leaning into her and eating at her mouth, tasting her joy, her youth,
and the lust that he knew always rose within her after slaying.

Buffy fumbled the door open, clumsy from passion rather than
blindness, and Angel followed her in. He was fiercely glad to have
her to himself. He scooped her back into his arms and bounded with
her up the stairs to her bedroom, laying her on the bed and leaning
over to press passionate kisses across her face. He pulled the dark
glasses from her before she could object and dropped them
disdainfully on the bedside table, then returned to kiss her eyes and
cheekbones with cool biting nips.

Buffy moaned, dropped the cane and reached for Angel's shirt, ripping
it open and sending buttons flying across the room. She gasped as
her hands glided over his chest. She realized it was the first time
she'd felt vampire flesh under her newly sensitive fingers. He was
smooth and hard and cool—room temperature—under her inquisitive
fingers and the touch of his skin seemed to stoke her heat, building
the fires within her ever higher.

She wrapped her hands around his neck, pulling him down to her and
kissing the sensitive cleft where his neck met that muscular plane.
He growled in response, bending his head to kiss her again as his
hands caressed her urgently. She moaned into his mouth and slid her
fingers down to the top of his pants, trailing them teasingly across
his waist.

Angel swore as his game face surfaced, then realized that she
couldn't tell, couldn't see his loss of control.

"I love when you do that," she murmured throatily as her nimble
fingers unfastened his pants to free his heavy cock.

"Do what?" he growled, tugging her pants open in return and sliding
them off her slender legs.

"I love when you lose control like that…when your demon shows," she
said, stroking him firmly

"You…how can you tell?" he asked in surprise, then gasped as she
stroked the sensitive head.

"Your growl changes," she said, "you, ah, get more rumbly and
deeper. It's sexy, it makes me all tingly."

"Where? he gasped as she arched her neck to lick his chest, sliding
her mouth across the muscles to lap at his nipple. He growled even
harder when she bit him.

"Mmmm, right there," Buffy moaned, arching up into his hand as he
cupped her mound, rubbing his long, talented fingers across her silky
thong.

"Here?" he rumbled. "So what if I slide down and do this…" he slid
down her flat belly, licking and nipping as he went, "and I do this…"
he forced her legs apart and pressed his mouth against her satin-
covered clit, "and this…" he growled open-mouthed, blowing cool air
across her teasingly….

Buffy shrieked in pleasure, coming in waves as he growled against her
clit, his fangs vibrating against her.

Angel pulled her thong from her and lapped at the moisture flooding
from his lover, still growling as he did so. He pinned her there,
both hands sliding underneath her delectable ass to hold her open and
writhing against his mouth as he stabbed his tongue deep into her
molten center to taste her passion.

He brought her to climax again by suckling her clit with his ever-
talented tongue, and again by stabbing first two and then three
fingers deep into her wet cunt until she screamed his name over and
over.

She looked glorious, warm, flushed, and wanton beneath him and his
mind moved without his volition to his most cherished fantasies. He
moved over her, his powerful body coiled above her and he teased her
wet opening with the head of his aching cock. Buffy grabbed at him
and pulled, trying to draw him into her, but Angel had waited for too
many years to rush this precious moment.

"I love you," he growled, and thrust home within his lover's tiny
body, seating himself deep within her and holding absolutely still
for a long, long moment.

Buffy groaned at his possession, pulsing around him uncontrollably.
This, this was right, this was what she needed…*who* she
needed. "Angel!" she gasped, "Oh, Angel, I love you! Please!"

He moved teasingly, rotating his hips against her and seating himself
even deeper within her willing body. Buffy panted, her hands roaming
his chest before they fluttered up to caress his face. She stared up
at him with sightless eyes and he blinked, reminded that she could
not see his expression. He morphed back to his human mask at the
thought, regret filling him so suddenly that he sobbed once, before
he could control it.

Buffy drew his head down to her own, kissing him hard and deep,
swallowing his tears, until he lost all but the last vestige of
sadness, her ardor filling him as he filled her. He began a slow,
torturous rhythm, sliding within her slick channel and then out
again. She arched and flexed those amazing muscles deep within her
and he growled again at the exquisite sensation. He moved faster,
each thrust rubbing her clit skillfully until she writhed underneath
him in abandon.

He watched her lovely face, unwilling to let himself go until she'd
reached her completion, and he felt tears threaten behind his eyes
again at her blind stare. Then she clenched around him, her muscles
nearly tearing him in two as she spasmed uncontrollably around his
hard cock.

She tilted her neck and begged him, "Angel, please, bite. I need
you!"

He groaned at the invitation, so long wished for, and he couldn't
stop himself, he put his mouth to her delicate neck, his tongue
lapping at the scar…his mark upon his mate. He thrust deeper within
her, until he felt she had swallowed him whole, then he sank his
aching fangs into her buttery skin. She screamed and came again
wildly around him. The rush of blood hit him like a fist, and he
convulsed, pumping into her as her essence, hot, sweet, loving, and
alive! threw him over the edge and they plummeted together into
oblivion.



Beholder Chapter 5


Buffy slowly woke and stretched languorously…or tried to. Her
stretch was curtailed by the tall, muscular vampire curled around her
as if she were some cherished toy. Buffy smiled and cuddled into his
cool, lean body for a moment, her hands smoothing over the hard
planes of his chest. Then she froze.

Angel was in bed with her. Angel made love to her. *Oh, my god…
Angelus!*

Buffy pulled her hands back from his chest as if his cool skin had
burned her, wondering if even now he was awake and staring at her
maimed eyes with that mocking grin of his. He didn't need to breathe—
did it only out of long habit and a desire to appear as unthreatening
as possible. He could be laughing silently to himself right now at
the pathetic slayer who'd fallen so easily into bed with him…again.

She extricated herself from him, sliding her leg out from between
his. He rumbled a little at that and she stilled abruptly, trying
not to breathe as he growled and rolled to his side, purring for a
moment before he lapsed once again into the deathlike slumber of the
vampire.

*

He dreamed crimson dreams of death and slaughter flavored by Slayer's
blood and sex. The dreams were scintillating, ever-changing images
of victims, torture, sex, and blood—always blood. Buffy was the
center of a hundred different fantasies, cherished dreams, in which
he stalked her like the predator he was—stalked her, fucked her,
drank her, and turned her. She hunted by his side through one
thousand sunless days, killing with him—a merciless, vicious, angel
of the night.

*

He morphed to game face and growled—a rumbly purr of menace that
startled Buffy into falling from the bed. She landed with an
ungraceful thump and crawled naked across the carpet to the closet.
She caught her knee on discarded clothes—his pants—she thought as she
sprawled face first on the floor. She hauled herself frantically to
her knees and began crawling again.

She reached the closet and scrabbled to open the door, hands shaking
as she pulled it open. Her entire body winced from his regard,
terrified that he was staring at her right that moment with malice in
his eyes. As she reached for the trunk, Buffy felt a cool draft send
ice up her spine and a hand as cold as death placed itself upon her
lower back.

"Going so soon, Lover?" his voice purred before he slid his hand
around to pull her against him. Buffy tensed, expecting a fang
strike, and flinched when his lips pressed a soft kiss to the nape of
her neck instead. His tongue darted out to taste her and she
shuddered in his grasp as he slid his other hand around to cup her
breast. He caressed the soft mound before sliding his fingers in to
pinch the nipple.

Buffy gasped, terror warring with renewed desire as her long-
untouched body responded to its mate.

"Come back to bed, Buffy, the others aren't even awake yet. There's
plenty of time to dress later," he purred into her ear.

Buffy had not been still while he'd grabbed her, her hands opening
the chest and feeling for the stakes she'd left in the top tray. She
grabbed one just as he moved his mouth to the mark he'd renewed last
night on her neck, his tongue dipping into the twin wounds as he
suckled lightly at the scar. He grazed it with his fangs and she
twisted convulsively in his grasp, turning to pin him beneath her on
the carpet.

Buffy held one hand around his neck, pinning it to the floor as the
other centered the stake directly above his unbeating heart. "Don't
move," she hissed. "I'll kill you, I really will!"

"Ah, ouch, ah, ok, Buffy, I get it, no morning snacking. All right?"
Angel joked, wondering what had gotten into his volatile lover this
morning. She had no idea how intoxicating she was—her hair all
mussed from sleep and his scent all over her. He stared at his mate
with passion, grateful she'd allowed him to drink from her last night
and aroused again at the faint taste of her he'd taken from the mark.

"God, Angelus, you are such a twisted fuck. How can you get off on
this? Don't deny it, I can feel you!" she hissed before turning her
head to call urgently, "Willow, Giles, come quickly!"

"Uh, Buffy, are you sure you want them in here right now? I mean,
we're not really dressed for entertaining and I'm not really that
comfortable with Giles and Willow seeing us like…" he paused, "…did
you just call me Angelus?"

Buffy's blind eyes stared down at him and he read terror, pain, and
growing consternation in them somehow before the door to her room
burst open.

"Buffy, what's the…oh, good lord, Angelus?" Giles chocked. The
sight of his Slayer naked and straddling an equally naked and quite
erect, *Good lord, the watchers' diaries are truly accurate, I always
thought they'd exaggerated his proportions!* "Do you need the
manacles?"

"I'll find my extra orb of Thesula, Buffy," Willow blurted, her eyes
straying to the supple, muscular body of the Slayer. *No! No
looking at the best friend that way! Not allowed. Even if she can't
really tell `cause she can't see me and I never realized what nicely
rounded breasts she has and the nipples are just so pink and tasty-
look….* "Eep!"

Giles was pushed further into the room as Willow pelted through the
door and down the hall, for all the world as if Angelus were actually
chasing her instead of pinned beneath Buffy's thighs where the
Watcher was definitely not looking.

"Giles, there's been some kind of mistake. I am not Angelus!" Angel
insisted.

Buffy pulled abruptly away from him, her face crumpling. "Oh, my
god, you're not Angelus!" she said.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you. You could sound a little
happier about it, Buffy," Angel said somewhat plaintively as he
grabbed his pants and slid into them, fastening them with difficulty
over his still throbbing erection. He glared at Giles standing in
the doorway and growled pointedly at the Watcher, "Her robe, please,
Giles?"

"What? Oh, yes, quite, Angel," the Watcher replied, handing Buffy's
fluffy robe to the vampire with alacrity. Angel paced to the Slayer
and wrapped her gently in the soft fabric. Buffy was staring his way
with a stricken look upon her face.

"But Buffy, why would you think Angel was Angelus unless you two…"
Giles voice trailed off and he gazed at the vampire. "You two were…
together and he…"

"He didn't lose his soul, Giles. It's easy enough for you to see
why," Buffy bit out, gesturing abruptly at her scarred face. "I'm
amazed he was able to get it up at all looking at this," she said
bitterly. "But hey, Angel, at least we know your soul is safe and
sound around me now. Pardon me if I'm not exactly jumping for joy
over the reason." She stood and stepped haltingly toward her bedside
table, shaking hands flitting over its surface until she found her
dark glasses. She grabbed them quickly and placed them on her face.

"I'm going to go take a shower. If you'd like to leave before I'm
done, Angel, I'm sure Giles will drive you." She brushed quickly by
both men and into the bathroom, locking the door with an audible
click.

Willow hurried into the room, an orb of Thesula clutched in her
hands. "Ok, I found it…Giles, why is Angelus not tied up? Where is
Buffy? What's going on?"

"I simply cannot believe you could be that complacent, again, Angel.
What were you thinking?" Giles hissed in anger. "How could you do
this to her?"

"I didn't, we just, the vampires were there and we fought and she was
so happy and we kissed and…it's not like that!" Angel sputtered.

Willow looked at him. "You and Buffy slept together?"

"Yes."

"And you both…"

"Yes."

"But you didn't…"

"No."

"Why not? I mean if you both…"

"Look Willow," Angel said, "I'm not sure why I still have my soul,
but I do, ok? Now, Buffy is really upset and I need to go talk to
her."

"Do you really feel that's advisable, Angel?" Giles asked, concern
for Buffy paramount in his mind.

"Giles, it's not about the scars. I never cared what she looked
like. I love Buffy for herself, not her skin or her hair or that
other stuff. She's more beautiful to me today than she was when I
first saw her sitting on the steps outside of Hemmery. She needs to
know that."

"If so, then one must inquire why it wasn't…"

"Because it's my fault, Giles. Cordelia got a vision and I never
followed up on it and Buffy faced that demon alone instead of with me
beside her. It's my fault she's blind, Giles," Angel said, his face
full of shame at the admission.

"Cordelia had a vision with Buffy in it and you decided not to come
or call or anything?" Willow asked in disbelief.

"Well, she had the vision and then she got distracted and then she
had another vision and she never got a chance to tell me about the
first one, so I didn't find out until yesterday," Angel admitted.

"So you didn't know?" Giles asked.

"Not till Buffy called, then I told Cordy I was coming here and she
remembered," Angel said.

"So, Angel, how is this your fault?" Willow asked. "I mean, I see
that Cordelia screwed up, but where exactly did it become your fault?"

"She's my seer, I should have asked her about the first vision, not
got caught up in the second one, Willow," Angel replied.

Giles gazed at the vampire. "Angel, I simply don't see how you can
blame yourself for Buffy's disability. She went into the fight as
she has in the past, willing to do whatever it took to stop the
demon. The cost this time was terrible, but she'd died before to
save the world, surely you see that this is the life of the Chosen."

"Not Buffy. Not again. She's given up everything. She deserves a
real life, a life in the sun. And now she'll never see it again
because I wasn't here to help her," Angel gritted. "Now, excuse me,
but I've wounded the only woman I've ever loved past bearing…again…
and I really need to try to make things right with her."

He pushed by them into the hall and knocked on the door to the
bathroom. "Buffy, can I come in? Buffy?"

"Go away, Angel."

"I'm not leaving until you talk to me Buffy."

"I don't want to talk to you. Go away and leave me alone."

"Open the door or I'm breaking the lock, Buffy," Angel roared.

"Go to hell, Angel…again!" she cursed.

Angel grabbed the handle of the door and twisted, popping the lock
and pushing the door open. He closed it in the startled faces of
Giles and Willow. The shower was on and Buffy's robe lay on the
floor in a heap. Angel stepped to the shower and peered in.

Buffy was huddled in the corner, her water-darkened hair a honey
colored mass that obscured her eyes and face as she curled her arms
around her knees and shrank from his unseen regard.

Angel swore at the misery that screamed from her with every wince and
stripped his pants away. He climbed into the shower and crouched at
Buffy's feet.

"I love you, Buffy. I will never stop," he whispered.

"I don't want your pity, Angel. Will you please just go away now?"
she begged.

Angel reached one hand out to caress her hair, smoothing it back from
her face with a gentle movement. "I can't live without you anymore,
Buffy. Please don't turn me away."

"Oh, yeah, `cause the sex is so bad that you don't even have to worry
about perfect happiness ever again," Buffy quipped.

"Buffy, it's not like that."

"How is it not like that, Angel? I don't do it for you anymore…
that's ok. You want to do the blind chick again before you leave for
LA? No problemo," she hissed, moving forward to grab his thighs.
She knelt before him and sucked his still-hard cock into her mouth,
twirling her tongue around it and lapping at the end before engulfing
the entire length.

Angel groaned and put his hands on her shoulders, trying to gently
push her away.

Buffy held tight to his thighs, sucking harder as she caressed his
balls with her thumbs.

Angel moaned and tried harder to push her away, but his hands were
shaking in reaction to her skilled teasing. Then she sucked him even
further into her throat, swallowing convulsively to control her gag
reflex. At the powerful sensations, Angel bucked and cried out,
losing control and spasming as he came. Buffy swallowed him down
before pulling away to almost cower before him.

"It's too bad your night vision is so good, Angel, otherwise we might
be able to make a go of this," she said bitterly. "Maybe you could
just not look? I could get glasses that stay put better and you'd
never have to look at my freaksome, maimed face again."

Angel gasped at the aftermath of one of the most powerful orgasms
he'd ever experienced, then shut off the water, and grabbed Buffy by
the shoulders, hauling her to her feet.

"Listen to me, you stubborn, wrong-headed, self-hating woman! I love
you. I love you covered in vampire dust. I love you covered in
demon slime. I love you when you wake up in the morning and I love
you when you fall asleep at night. I love you when we're together
and I love you when we're apart. You are my Mate! In 246 years, I
have never, ever loved another woman the way I love you. I don't
care about your eyes, hell, I wouldn't care if you didn't have a face
at all, as long as I could be near you, smell your scent, and hear
your voice. I love you, Buffy. You, not your face, not your eyes,
not your hair--you." He panted with emotion, tears running freely
down his face.

"But you didn't…" her voice broke and she sobbed.

"No, Buffy, I didn't feel perfect happiness. You want to know why?"

"Yes," she sniffed, rubbing her face with the back of one hand.

"I look at you, at your beautiful face, and I can't feel perfect
happiness, because it was my fault. My fault that you are blind,
Buffy. And I didn't tell you because I was ashamed," he admitted,
turning from her to grab a towel to dry her now-shaking body. "Cordy
had a vision and it got ignored, and I wasn't here to help you and
now you're blind and it's my fault, Buffy! I should have been here!"

Buffy stood stock still in his arms. "You can't be happy because you
think this," she gestured to her face, "is your fault?"

Angel ducked his head in shame, despite the fact that she couldn't
see him. "Yes."

Buffy dropped the towel and reached her hands out, hesitating only a
moment before she found his face and stroked it gently. "Oh, Angel,
it's not your fault. It's not anyone's fault. Slayers get hurt. We
get killed. It's what we do. You didn't do this to me."

Angel pulled her into his arms, kissing the water from her face and
smoothing her hair back behind her ears. "Buffy," he groaned,
holding her to him as if he'd never let go.

To be continued…

Title Page
Author's Page
NEXT >>>>>