Buffy was tired of living in seclusion. She had gone with Angelus because she hoped that time together would make him at least want to stay in Sunnydale. She could not have been more wrong. Over two weeks had gone by and Angelus was even broodier than Angel had been. She had not set foot off the grounds of the house since the night he brought her here. Of course, he could come and go as he pleased; he was not the one that was supposed to have left Sunnydale.
She ran her fingers over the well-worn ebony and ivory keys of the grand piano in the music room lethargically, realizing she would sound like a spoiled child if she complained. The house was huge and certainly gave her plenty to explore during the day when Angelus was doing the vampire thing and sleeping.
Bored, Buffy closed her eyes and concentrated on Angelus lying in his bed. His room was in the dark and musty basement, which Buffy found gave her the wiggins every once in a while. Having his room there gave him ample room and allowed Buffy to be as loud as she wanted to be all day without waking him. There were no windows in his area of the basement either, so he had complete darkness in his room. He told Buffy this way he did not have to worry about her opening the drapes one day, sending him to a crispy ending. She liked to think he was joking, that he knew she could not kill him – at least like that.
He was still asleep when she melded her mind with his, but his body was coming awake as it usually did this time of day. She could tell now by the subtle differences in the way the blood flowed through his body. When he was in his deep sleep, the blood was very still almost unmoving. The closer the sun got to setting the faster it coursed through him, giving his body what it required to animate him. At first it had completely grossed her out that she could feel the blood as it moved through his body, that she could smell the coppery scent of it and even taste it, but it no longer did.
They were both learning as they went along just what the blood exchange meant and did. There were days Buffy knew full well Angelus regretted having done it. Each day brought them closer together and seemed to strengthen whatever bond they shared. Being in the same house seemed to accentuate it, she was more in tune with him after being with him day in and day out for over two weeks than she had ever before. Buffy was aware of most every movement made by Angelus unless he worked at blocking her out.
Her eyes flew open when she felt him awaken fully, clutching her throat instinctively with her hand. She felt his hunger and instantly grew ravenous along with him despite having eaten less than an hour ago. Buffy stood from the piano and left the music room, heading in the direction of Angelus. She hated how much she needed him, especially now that she had to rely on him for everything. But he needed her, too, and that gave her some power.
“Good morning, Lover,” he called to her from the bed. She felt the heat of a blush spread to her face. It was not so much because he was lying in bed with the top sheet barely covering his waist and upper thighs, one arm behind his head as if he was purposely putting himself on display. But rather she was embarrassed because she could not stop from staring at the pale smooth perfection that was his form. He still managed to take her breath away, even knowing that at the drop of a hat that he could turn as nasty as a starving piranha.
“Good morning,” she said, finally drawing her gaze away from his bare thighs and torso to his face.
“What’s on your mind, Lover, that has your thoughts so completely closed off to me?”
“I want to go out.”
He sighed and got a look on his face that Buffy had seen several times on her mother’s face when Joyce Summers thought her only daughter was being unreasonable. “Buff, we’ve been over this. If we want everyone to think that you’ve left town you can’t be seen walking around the mall.”
“It’s the Fourth of July,” she said.
“And?”
“I don’t want to go to the mall. I was thinking you could take me to see the fireworks.”
“I don’t think so, Buff. I’m not much for crowds of people, particularly when I can’t kill or eat any of them.”
Here, when he did not have to put on airs, Angelus was able to have conversations with her. He still had his moments when he was rude and downright cruel to her, or said things like he just did about killing people. Buffy believed, though, that he enjoyed the time when they just talked without having to be the swaggering and boasting Angelus. She learned more about Angel and Angelus in the past two weeks than she had in the months prior when they had been in love and at least somewhat happy. If she was unable to convince him to stay in Sunnydale she was glad that they had this time together, that she was able to find out some things about him.
She gathered her hair and tied it in a makeshift knot at her nape as she walked to the bed. “I’ll give you my blood,” she said coquettishly, tilting her head so the expanse of her neck was visible to him.
“And why should that convince me?”
“I think it’s a pretty fair exchange, Slayer blood for a night of some Fourth of July goodness.” She saw the interest flash in those deep brown eyes, saw him lick his lips, felt hunger and arousal flare through him, and was aware of him trying to squelch both.
“And how do you know I won’t agree to fireworks, feed and then back out on the deal?”
“Because I’m not going to let you feed now.”
“But I’m hungry now, Lover, you feel it.”
“At the fireworks.”
He frowned and shook his head. “Now I think it’s you who is trying to deceive me, you who plans to back out on the deal.”
“I do not. I offered it. I’ve let you before.”
“Both times were in the heat of the moment, Buff, while we were fucking. We’re not fucking now and we can’t fuck at the fireworks.”
“That’s assuming there are going to be people around us while we watch the fireworks.”
“You don’t have enough money to arrange for a private display, Buff, so what is it you’re planning.”
“Do you trust me?” she asked, a little afraid of the answer. Neither talked much about what they felt for one another, certainly not about the fact that both obviously trusted one another to some extent to live together like this.
“I trust you not to stake me.”
“That’s the extent of it?”
“Just tell me your idea, Lover.”
“Well, I was thinking we could find somewhere, you know, out of the way. I’d say a cemetery, but my going to one seems foolish if I’m trying to hide. But you’re stealthy. Vampire and all. I can be, too.”
“So if I find us somewhere reasonable to watch the fireworks display without being out amongst the masses I get to feed off you?”
“Yes,” she said, biting her lower lip. She was not altogether sure she should be letting him feed off of her, but she had little else to bargain with.
“Do I get the fucking, too?”
“It’s not enough I give you my blood?”
“I suppose it is, but blood and sex go so well together, Buff.” As if in a trance, Buffy watched as he reached with his hand and gave his hardening shaft a long, slow stroke. She looked away, but it was too late. He had seen her watching and if Buffy had learned nothing else about vampires – and this particular vampire – he would know she had enjoyed the show. With his heightened senses he would know.
“All I’m promising is the blood, Angelus.”
He sighed, sounding exasperated and threw his legs over the side of the bed as he sat up. He clutched the mattress with his hands. “All right,” he said, avoiding her eyes.
“Did you just say yes?”
“Yeah,” he mumbled and Buffy could not help but laugh. “I didn’t think it’s that funny.”
She regarded him for a moment, her head tilted to one side her neck still exposed to him. “No one is going to see us together, Angelus.”
“Stop reading my thoughts, Buff.”
“I don’t do it on purpose, but the look on your face was obvious even without knowing what you were thinking.”
“What time do they start?”
She was beginning to get excited. And anxious. He was really going to bring her somewhere, even if it was to another secluded spot. He had until tonight avoided talking about sex, Buffy had no idea why. There were times when she craved him physically and wanted him to come to her bed. Sometimes she was embarrassed about feeling that way. Did needing sex, wanting sex, make her a slut? She had no idea. Sure there had been guys before Angel she had thought were cute, but Angel was the first – the only – guy she had ever gotten serious enough about to think about having sex with.
“You’re not a slut,” Angelus said with a low growl.
She stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out what motive he could have for easing her mind.
{I would never have gotten involved with you, loved you if you were easy, Buffy.}
“Thank you,” she said softly.
“Who are you thanking? Me or Lover Boy?”
“Both of you.”
“Get out.”
“What?” she asked surprised at the sudden change in his attitude.
“I need to get dressed, Buff, so unless you’re going to give me the fuck now to satisfy at least one of my appetites get out.”
“What if I said yes?”
“The doctor said no.”
“That was weeks ago, Angelus.”
She had a quick flash of his hands covered in blood, a hallway that looked sterile and white like a hospital and Giles but then the images were cut off, he had shut her out. “You’ve come too far to risk the baby now, Buff.”
“So why even ask me if I would?”
“I didn’t think you’d want to.” He stood from the bed, and Buffy spun around quickly and he laughed, a deep, throaty laugh dripping with bitterness. “You can’t even fucking look at me, Lover. I can smell your desire, your arousal, but you can’t even look at my body.”
“We’re talking, you’re a little underdressed, don’t you think?”
“So, you’re just being a cocktease, is that it?”
“No, I’m not,” she said, turning to face him again. “Because I’d like you to have some shorts on I’m teasing you? You don’t have to be rough about it, do you?”
“What?”
“Making love to me.”
“You may have done that with Soul Boy, Buff, but I don’t make love to anyone.”
“Okay, then, sex.”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know.”
“I don’t know. I’ve never tried it.”
“You mean to tell me in two hundred plus years you never tried to be nice to the person you were with?”
He snickered, “Appropriate use of the word person, Lover.”
“What?”
“Soul Boy’s appetites tended to be pretty vanilla, a Blonde virginal Slayer, all nice and gentle like with love and other emotions involved. I’m not quite so picky. Though he sure did like it when you were on top, flexing those Slayer muscles around and milking our cock for all you were worth. I thought for a moment there he was going to give me what I craved, some of your blood with the sex.”
“Stop it, you’re being crude.”
With lightning quick speed his hand was at her cheek, cupping it. He was so quick, it had happened so fast she had no chance to retreat, which she would have done had she known he was going to touch her. “But it turns you on to hear me say those things,” he said his voice gruff in a vain attempt at a whisper.
“It does not,” she replied defensively. “The man I love is standing in front of me nude and you think your crude words are turning me on?”
“She notices,” he said mockingly before kissing her.
Expecting one of Angelus’ bruising, possessing-like kisses that bordered on violent Buffy prepared herself to push him away before he hurt her. It was her fault it had gone this far, she had taunted him knowing he was hungry so she could not exactly get angry at him.
But the kiss did not turn rough; it was gentle, deep, and sincere. She felt the love and devotion being relayed to her wordlessly with his lips. Her hands at his bare chest relaxed, a thumb gently stroking his male nipple as her eyes fell closed and she gave into the moment.
This was Angel. Buffy had no idea how she knew the difference or even how it was possible, but she was kissing Angel. A soul could not kiss, it was just not logical and made no sense but she knew the difference between the two men that possessed her boyfriend’s body.
Her mind opened to him, letting him in to see how much she still loved him and kissed him back with a fervor brought on by months of pent up confusion and frustration, relishing in the gentleness he gave her. She took the momentary protection and warmth he offered her and wrapped her mind and her very soul around it, wanting this moment to last forever but knowing somehow it would be over too soon.
His hand slid from her waist to her almost six month along abdomen and Buffy felt the baby kick for the first time. Was the baby responding to her or to its father’s soul temporarily being in charge? She would never know, nor did she particularly care, she was able to share this moment with Angel not Angelus.
She drew away, still a little stunned by all that had just happened. “Did you feel that?” she asked, her eyes focused on his face wondering if she would be able to tell when Angel left the building. Was Angel fighting for control? Is that what was going on? She had no idea, she wished she could talk to Giles, she would like to know just what a soul is capable of doing.
“What was it?” he asked, his hand still pressing against her swollen belly.
“The baby.”
“Is that normal?”
“Yes, I was told at my last visit any day now I should expect to feel movements. I was beginning to wonder if there was something wrong that I hadn’t yet, but the doctor assured me that every woman was different and the heartbeat was strong, proving he was okay.”
“He? Buffy, did you say he?” And with that question, Angel was gone and Buffy was violently shut out of his mind.
“Welcome back,” she said bitterly. That brief time with Angel made her miss him even more. It was just like him to do something like this, to get her hopes up that Angelus was gone.
“I couldn’t let that touching scene go on for too long.”
“We wouldn’t want that.” She strode to the door, knowing even then he would be able to smell her arousal, hear how rapidly her heart was beating against her chest. Were he to ask now, Angel or Angelus in charge, she would be in his bed in a second. That frightened her, because after the little show she and Angel had just put on with Angelus privy to every thought, word and deed of it Buffy sensed he would be particularly brutal with her just then. “I’ll be ready by nine. We are still going, right?”
He snickered, his lips curving up into a wicked snarl-like smile. “I’d love to burst your bubble and disappoint you by saying no, but for some unfathomable reason I will enjoy watching fireworks with you.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know your childlike enthusiasm for such things maybe. It reminds me of how innocent you still are despite all that you’ve seen and done. That night I took you to the skating rink.”
“Angel took me.”
“I was there, too, damnit. I was there with you every damned time, through it all. Can you please stop differentiating between us, Lover?”
“I’m going to get dressed,” she said, sensing somehow she had pushed him to the limits just about then. “I’ll see you at nine.”
Buffy opened the door and then turned around to face Angelus once again. “I remember that night, too, Angelus. It was the night I first kissed you when you were all bumpy. It was the best night of my life. You gave me a piece of my childhood again, something I hadn’t really realized I missed. I don’t know if I ever thanked you for that night because things went a little screwy what with Spike hiring those assassins to kill me and everything.”
“You’re thanking me?”
“Yeah,” she said softly, looked away not wanting him to see the tears forming in her eyes. She missed Angel now more than ever. “I’m thanking you.” With that she left his room, leaving what she knew was a somewhat confused Angelus in her wake.