By Tango
E-MAIL: Tangofic@hotmail.com
DISCLAIMER: Nope. I still don't own them.
DISTRIBUTION: Of course you can have it! Please let me know though.
SPOILERS: This takes place two years after "Drawings of You." Completely AU. Everyone's just plain ‘ole human.
PAIRING: B/A, of course!
DISTRIBUTION: My site (www.tangofic/bravepages.com), Starrkitty's Adult B/A Archive, Forever, Always and Then Some (Tara's site), Duck's Babble Board, probably No More Sorrow (Nina's site) and my yahoogroups. Anyone else who houses my fic is welcome to it. All others, please let me know and then, of course you can have it.
FEEDBACK: Please let me know what you think of this.
LYRICS: All lyrics are from the Cure.
RATING: NC-17
DEDICATION: To everyone who loved the first part and for those who requested a sequel.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yeah, I know I'm supposed to be working on "In A Maudlin Sort of Way," "Filling in the Blanks" and "Slayers and Witches and Vampires, Oh My!" I know this. But for those of you who know me at all realize that I'm restless. I'm surprised I sit still long enough to type. Anyway, this sequel has been bugging me for several weeks. Some of you know that I've been helping my friend remodel a house, which I ducked out on today to write and clean (ugh), so the beginning of this has stemmed from LONG, arduous hours of sweaty work. Hope you'll like what I have in mind. (I do *plan* to write the others while I'm in the middle of this one, in case you were wondering. We'll see how that works out, though.)
Okay, please suspend your disbelief for my human version of B/A...
***
Part One - "The House"
//the very first time i saw your face
i thought of a song
and quickly changed the tune//
Lindsay McDonald pulled into the circle drive in front of Buffy Summer's house and eyed the dilapidated structure. It was a perfect fixer-upper at first glance. The foundation looked strong, although the sagging wraparound porch would need to be replaced. He smiled, excited about the prospect of tackling the project.
Lindsay was an architect, as well as a jack of all trades, who specialized in revamping buildings and homes. Growing up in the home of a construction worker, he had learned more about houses than he had in college and his internships. Once he graduated, he started a small business that soon became the rage in LA. People loved the idea of taking something old and making it new. They loved scrawling their signatures on ridiculously large checks for the expertise of one country boy turned entrepreneur.
He pulled open the screen door and passed through the front door, which was standing open. Music blasted from a small, portable CD player in the corner. He inhaled the small of fresh cut lumber and paint as he walked through, surveying what needed to be done.
His cowboy boots betrayed his presence as he walked through, taking in his surroundings. Every single floor had to be stripped, every wall needed patching and painting. From his initial once over he knew there was so much work to be done most people would probably consider scrapping it and starting over. But this house was a classic. All of the original hand carved moldings were still in place around the doorframes and windows. The windows were all placed in the perfect spots for optimum natural airflow and he was thankful for that because it was a very hot afternoon. He pulled a small notebook from his pocket and jotted a few notes as he wandered around looking for the woman of the house.
He found her balancing precariously on a ladder in the far end of the dining room attempting to spackle a crack in the wall. He looked over her for a moment, eyeing her shapely body. He ignored the man covered in splotches of antique white paint that was carrying supplies into the room. He was a far less enjoyable sight than the tiny blonde on the ladder.
"Too bad she's engaged, huh?" the painter asked, setting down a five gallon jug of paint.
"Yeah," Lindsay echoed. Buffy Summers was definitely beautiful even while she was covered in dust and sweat. Her muscles flexed with her efforts, keeping his eyes and his imagination occupied. He could already imagine sliding in between those firm thighs, "And I was warned that her fiancé is an overprotective dick."
"He is," the painter answered casually, prying open a can of paint as he spoke.
"I'm just glad he's not going to be here today. I heard he broke some guy's arm in two places for trying to pick her up in bar. Course, I can't blame him. She's a hot little piece of ass," Lindsay answered, thinking he would be just as protective of her. She looked fragile and small, looming above them on the ladder, which started to wobble as she leaned too far. Both men tensed, preparing to run over to help her. The painter was the first to respond as she tried to steady herself and lost her balance. He reached her just in time, blocking her with his body. She slammed down on him and he caught her, wrapping his arms around her narrow waist before she landed on the hardwood floor.
"Thank you," she said shakily, leaning back against him for a moment to gather her senses before she stood up on her own two feet. She looked around the room and noticed another person there and cursed under her breath as she wiped the sweat off her brow with her arm. Figures that another person would be there to witness her clumsiness.
"No more ladders for you," the painter said firmly, as if he had a right to tell her what to do. In fact, Lindsay began to get worried when he realized that this man was not a hired painter. He knew her well.
She cast the painter a irritated look and then smiled while addressing her visitor, "Hi. Can I help you?"
"Lindsay McDonald," he said with concern in his bright blue eyes, "I had an appointment with Buffy Summers at 3:00 o'clock today."
"Hi. I can't believe you just saw that," she said, glancing at her watch, "Believe me, I'm usually not this clumsy."
"Yes, she is," the painter said with a smile, receiving a swat on the shoulder for his comment.
"Ignore him," she said, holding out her hand, "Thank you for coming. I'm Buffy and this is my fiancé, Angel."
Lindsay looked over the large man he had been speaking to before. He quickly snapped shut the mouth that went slack in shock and held out his hand Angel, "Nice to meet you. It was my understanding that you wouldn't be here for this meeting."
"My appointment was canceled," Angel answered, shaking the offered hand a shade too firmly, "Thanks for coming, Lindsay. Buffy's uncle says you're the best."
"I'd like to think so," he answered, looking down at his notes to hide the frustration in his eyes. He took a second to dislodge the proverbial foot lodged in his mouth and then looked back up at the couple, "I already made a couple of notes. You have your work cut out for you. I have to be honest, this will be a long, expensive project if you plan to do it right."
"I was afraid you were going to say that," Angel answered, "I'm assuming Buffy told you that we are doing most of the work ourselves when we can."
"Well, that makes it longer," Lindsay said, "Let's take a look around."
The walk through was promising. Lindsay tried to forget Angel was there, speaking to them over his shoulder as he pointed out places in the floors and walls. They shared their ideas with him and he couldn't help but like Buffy. She excitedly explained what each room was for, even when it was obvious, and how they planned to improve it. The couple was obviously very much in love and Lindsay annoyingly accepted the fact that she was *really* engaged to the asshole who had let him walk to into an oral trap earlier. She looked at him like he was perfect and he looked at her the same way. It was a shame, really. She was captivating and bright, which was rare in such a pretty girl, especially in LA. She would look perfect on his arm and in his bed.
"Thank you for coming," Buffy said and then added hopefully, "So, you'll take the job, right?"
"Sure," Lindsay answered with a good natured nod, "If you want me, I'll be glad to help you out."
"Great!" Buffy said, smiling brightly.
"Why don't we meet here tomorrow morning and we'll go from there?" Lindsay said as a phone began ringing in the back of the house.
"That's my cell," Buffy said, jogging out of the room, "Nice to meet you, Lindsay! See you tomorrow."
Lindsay turned and looked grimly at the fiancé he was left with and opened his mouth to apologize when Angel interrupted him, "No hard feelings. I shouldn't have trapped you like that."
"It was out of line," Lindsay said, "I meant no disrespect."
"Course you did," Angel said, quirking a half smile, "But you were right. I am an overprotective dick when it comes to my girl. It's good you know that ahead of time. Makes things easier. Thanks for stopping by. See you tomorrow morning? 9 AM?"
"Sure," Lindsay answered hesitantly and pushed open the screen door, preparing to walk out.
"Just for the record," Angel said as Lindsay took a step forward, "I broke his arm in three places."
***
//catch me if i fall
i'm losing hold//
When Buffy walked back in, Angel was standing at the open door watching Lindsay drive away. He turned when she neared him and leaned down to kiss her lips. The kiss deepened and as he pulled her more tightly, she cut off the kiss.
"So, what did you think of Lindsay? There seemed to be tension between you two boys," she said, eyeing him suspiciously.
"He'll probably help us out a lot," Angel answered, curbing around her comment, "He seems to know what he's talking about."
"What did he do?" Buffy asked, raising an eyebrow, "Did say I was pretty or something and now you're being all macho guy?"
"Something like that," Angel admitted, smiling sheepishly.
"Angel," Buffy said, "He's really good at what he does and we need the help, so please don't scare him away."
"I won't," Angel promised, kissing the tip of her nose, "I tried to be nice."
"Not really," she rebuffed.
"I was civil," he protested, "Anyway, who was on the phone?"
"Willow," she said, "she wanted to know if we're still clubbing it tonight. I told her yes, but since you're all growly, maybe it's not such a good idea. Remember last time we went out?"
"If you had heard what he said about you, you would have been happy that all I did was break his arm."
"No, I wouldn't have," Buffy said, "Are you ever going to tell me what he said anyway?"
"Nope. Not a chance," Angel answered, kissing her again quickly and then rubbing her arms lightly, "Ready to get out of here?"
"I didn't finish spackling that crack," Buffy said, "Let me do that and then we can go."
"No way," Angel said, "Anything above Buffy height for now on will be done by someone who will not fall off a ladder."
"I lost my balance," Buffy pouted, "No big."
"You're not going back up there. Not today at least," Angel said, "I'll do it. It'll just take a minute."
***
//i want it to be perfect
like before
i want to change it all//
Darla waited at the counter as the police officer rattled off the contents of the envelope, handing her belongings one by one. She had learned a lot about herself and the mistakes she had made during her time in prison. She went about getting Angel back the completely wrong way. She realized that now.
She scooped her things back into her black leather purse and strode out into the daylight, breathing free air for the first time in two years. It was a wonderful feeling. She stepped into the cab that had been called for her with a smile.
By the time she had made it home, opened up her house and showered, washing away two years of prison from her body, it was dark. The house was silent, echoing the sounds of her footsteps for the first time in a long time. She curled up in her arm chair and looked out of the window, sipping a glass of wine. She had taken that small pleasure for granted before she went to prison. Today, she savored it, the way it rolled over her tongue and slid down her throat. If there was one thing prison had taught her, it was that nothing should be taken for granted.
***
Part Two - "Clubbin' It"
***
//waiting again
waiting
like i waited before//
Angel, Doyle and Xander sat a table along the side of the club, nursing drinks, while they waited for Buffy, Willow and Cordelia to grace them with their presence. Their eyes flitted across the room at gyrating bodies, many of them beautiful women, then to the door and back again.
"Where are they?" Xander whined, sipping his drink, knowing if they were kept waiting much longer all three of them would be drunk before their girlfriends arrived, "And what the hell are they doing anyway? Playing dress up?"
"Cordy got some special deal at the agency for some designer stuff," Doyle explained, feeling the alcohol that was beginning to effect his speech, "She was all excited about it."
"So was Buffy," Angel added, watching the door with an expression on his face that was unidentifiable to his friends. He shifted uncomfortably in the wooden chair which squeaked in protest of the man weighing it down. Over the loud house music, the sound wasn't heard, but Angel felt like the chair was designed for a much smaller person. He hunkered over the table and kept his eyes peeled on the door. What was taking so damn long?
***
//stopped short, grinding halt
everything's coming to a grinding halt//
"I *cannot* wear this," Willow said loudly as she looked at her reflection in Cordelia's full length mirror.
"It's a one of a kind designer dress, Willow," Cordelia explained, eyeing her friend with disgust, "Do you have any idea what I had to go through to get these out of the agency for us?"
"But *look* at it," Willow said, gesturing helplessly at the mirror and turning to Buffy for a rescue.
"I think what she means," Buffy said, looking down at the meager clothing she was wearing, feeling only slightly less naked than Willow, "Is that when you said you were giving us clothes, we sorta thought that the cloth part would be included."
"We look hot," Cordy said, nearly shouting as she turned to inspect her perfect body in the mirror, "I wear this sort of thing on the runway all of the time. Sometimes less."
"That's you," Willow said, slumping down on Cordy's bed carefully, trying not to wrinkle or rip the teeny, body hugging dress she was poured into, "I'm not used to this. I can't go in public like this."
"I'm not sure I can either," Buffy said, stepping over to the mirror to check and affirm that the same amount of usually covered skin was still in plain view.
"Don't be ridiculous," Cordy sneered, "You're both a bunch of conservative wimps. You promised me we would dress up and go out tonight. You are *not* backing out now!"
"‘Dress' being the operative word," Buffy mumbled. Willow nodded vigorously in approval. They were certainly not dressed by any stretch of the imagination. Even grading on the Cordy curve, they were still nearly naked. From the determination on their friend's face, they weren't sure how they were going to get out of this.
***
//sophisticated smile
you seduce in such fine style//
"Holy God, that's Willow," Xander blurted, nearly choking on his drink as he stared at the three women who walked, or slithered in. Xander Harris knew his girlfriend had a beautiful, sculpted body but he definitely never thought anyone else would see it. Tonight she stood in between Buffy and Cordelia, wearing a tiny black dress that made her pale skin glisten in the dim light. His lover's lovely breasts spilled from the top and he thought if she moved too quickly, they would be released of their covering completely.
"Oh shit," Doyle said, looking over the two piece ensemble his girlfriend was wearing, which looked as if it might have been painted onto her generous curves, "I shoulda known..."
"Please tell me I'm so drunk that I'm seeing things," Xander begged, gripping his cold glass tightly. He glanced around the club to see if any of the men there had noticed the dramatic entrance of the three lovely women. They had.
"You're not," Angel growled, standing up quickly and shaking the table in the process. The outfits the girls were wearing were not outlandish compared to what a lot of women wore to these sorts of clubs, but Buffy, Willow and Cordelia were not those other women. They didn't appear to be uncomfortable or self conscious as they sauntered across the room, seeking out the men that waited for them. Angel moved his eyes over his fiancé, burning into the bare flesh of her belly, the cleavage that was visible and her firm thighs. Angel strode towards them, feeling his groin tighten in response. He picked up his step as a sleazy looking man approached them.
"Uh-oh," Doyle said, standing up as well and following Angel. He had no doubt Cordelia Chase could protect herself from whatever man hit on her. He was following to keep Angel from snapping the guy's bones.
"I gotta second that," Xander said, standing and falling in line.
Buffy turned as a drunken voice shouted out, "Hey blondie!" He was tall and attractive with a medium build. If he wasn't so sloppily intoxicated, he might be a nice guy. Unfortunately, he was that drunk and not so nice.
"Hey baby, wait up," he said, stumbling toward them, "I wanna buy you and your friends a drink."
"Sorry," Buffy said politely, "We're meeting dates here."
"Fuck ‘em," he spat, reaching out and gathering her to his side, "You bitches need-"
"Excuse me," Buffy said, shrugging him off and stepping aside, "My fiancé is waiting for me."
"Fiancé huh?" he said, stepping in again and grabbing her wrist, "Well, I don't see him."
The man looked up in surprise as he was pulled away from her. Buffy took the opportunity to wrench her wrist away from his clammy hand and heard an angry male voice shout, "Keep your fucking hands off of her."
"Ford?" Buffy asked, surprised that her savior wasn't Angel.
"Hi Buffy," he said, sweeping his eyes over her body appreciatively, "Long time, no see."
"What are you doing here?" she gasped, rushing over to hug him, "I thought you moved to Boston a couple of years ago."
"Just got back last week," he said, flashing her one of his trademark charming smiles, while keeping an arm around her waist, "I was going to call and check up on you."
"You remember Cordy and Willow, right?" Buffy asked, nodding to her friends.
"Yeah," he answered, "Hello ladies. You all look beautiful tonight."
"Thanks," Willow blustered, reddening at his glance.
"Buffy," Angel growled, stepping to the edge of their circle. He clenched his fists at his side, willing himself not to tear apart the dark haired man who had a hand resting comfortably on his future wife's supple hip.
"Hi honey," she said, smiling brightly and moving away from Ford and into his arms, "This is my old friend, Billy Fordham. Ford, this is my fiancé, Angel."
"Nice to meet you," Ford said, extending a hand and hiding his disappointment. Angel glared at the hand for a second before excepting it and squeezing a shade too tightly.
"Ford and I dated for awhile in High School, Angel," Buffy said, pressing closer to his side.
"You're a lucky man, Angel," Ford said, winking at Buffy, "I never should have let this one get away."
"I'm glad you did," Angel said, calming slightly. Buffy was his. There was no way she would leave him for her ex and he did keep her from being mauled by the drunk slimeball, "Thanks for helping her out with that asshole."
"Anytime."
***
//the party just gets better and better//
"I don't like him," Angel said to Xander as Buffy and Willow danced, talked and laughed with Ford. Cordy and Doyle had disappeared somewhere, probably necking in a dark corner and Angel was left with Xander, who wasn't his favorite friend.
"You shouldn't," Xander answered, narrowing his eyes as Ford took every opportunity to touch Willow and Buffy on the dance floor, "We went to high school with him. He's a jackass. Treated Buff like shit."
"Really?" Angel said, raising an eyebrow in interest, "Why are they all buddy-buddy then?"
"She didn't know half the shit he pulled behind her back," he explained, nearly spitting the words out, "She thought he walked on water until he dumped her for another girl. When he got rid of the other girl, they became friends. I think it's because he was trying to get back together with her."
"But they never did?"
"Nope. She never thought she could trust him in a relationship again."
"Good. I don't trust him either," Angel said, watching Ford like a hawk. Buffy moved away toward the ladies room and Angel stood to follow. He made it halfway across the club, when a warm body pressed against him. He looked down into the shimmering brown eyes of one of his ex-lovers.
"Jhiera," Angel said, pulling away so that they were no longer touching. Not taking the hint, she moved closer again.
"I've missed you, Angel," she said, smoothing her hand over his leather encased groin. He caught her wrist and steered her hand away from him.
"I'm engaged now," he said, releasing her wrist, "I'm sorry but I'm not available."
"I heard you were off the market," she said in a sultry voice, "But I didn't think it could be true."
"It is," he said gently.
"Is she here?" Jhiera asked, allowing her hand to move to his arm, lightly caressing. She didn't bother to look around for the girl. She didn't care where she was.
"Yes," he said, moving away again.
"You know," she offered casually, "We could find a corner somewhere. It wouldn't be the first time you had me while you were with another woman."
"I'm a one woman guy now," he said, keeping his eyes on her face and away from her body. She was the one woman he could never refuse before. They both knew that and they both knew how hard it was for him to say no. He used to drown in her eyes, in her sense of adventure, in the sheer wickedness of her nature. She loved swooping in and pulling him from the arms of another woman, which, for awhile, she did on a regular basis.
"Jhiera," Cordelia said, walking up and looping her arm through Angel's, "How are you doing?"
"Cordelia," she said in surprise, "I'm doing well. You?"
"I'm peachy," she said.
"You two know each other?" Angel asked, finding the feeling of Cordelia on his arm strange, but comforting after trying to defend himself from Jhiera's wandering and insistent hands.
"We work together from time to time," Cordy answered, "Were you looking for Buffy? I think she went that way."
"Yeah," he said, moving in the direction that she pointed with a sigh of relief, "Nice seeing you, Jhiera."
Once Angel was out of earshot, Jhiera turned back to Cordelia, narrowing her eyes, "That was rude. Really, I thought you had more class than that."
"Oh yeah, trying to fuck a man you know damn well is engaged. Now, that's classy," Cordy snapped, "Stay away from Angel. He's taken."
"You sound upset about that. Guess you didn't get any before he found the new bitch," Jheria said with a confident smile. Cordy glared at her for a second and opened her mouth to retort when Doyle appeared and wrapped his arm around her.
"Hello there," he said with a nod, "Cordy, you gonna introduce me to your friend?"
"This vapid whore is not my friend," she answered looking directly at Jhiera as she spoke and then stalked off, leaving Doyle there for a second until he pivoted and hurried to follow her in confusion.
Jhiera watched them for a moment and allowed her gaze to follow them to the table where Billy Fordham was sitting. They made eye contact for just a second and she winked at him. He returned with an almost imperceptible nod. After a second more, she turned and walked out.
***
//but i don't mind
i just don't care
i've got no objection to you touching me there//
Buffy squeezed her way out of the ladies room, happy to be away from the most repulsive restroom she ever had the opportunity to visit. She moved cheerfully back into the throng of people, prepared to find Angel and smooth over his jealousy. He was so cute, stewing at the table while she had a harmless dance with Ford. Sure, he was an ex-boyfriend but Angel was acting like she was going to run away with him or something.
She shouted in protest as arms grabbed her waist and pulled her to the side. She was slammed into a dark corner and a large body pressed against hers. Only when his mouth pressed against hers demandingly, did she realize that her attacker was Angel. He sucked her tongue roughly and lifted one of her legs to hold it up against his side, pressing his groin against hers.
"I like you jealous," she whispered, pressing back against him as his free hand moved to her breast, pinching her nipple through the thin material. He grunted his answer as he dipped his head and bit at her other nipple. He slid his hand down her body, slipped under her skirt and ripped away her panties. She gasped as he tucked them into his pocket before returning quickly to her now bare heat.
"Angel!" she shouted and then lowered her voice quickly as he plunged two fingers inside her, massaging her clit with his thumb, "We can't do this here."
"Yes, we can," he said, looking over his shoulder at the loud, bouncing group of people. People where grinding against each other and making out all over the place. No one even noticed or cared about them.
"Angel," she moaned, as he twisted his fingers inside her, "have to go home."
"Let me in, baby," he whispered against her lips, nipping them gently between his words, "I need to be inside you."
He pressed harder against her clit as he waited for her answer, brushing against the sensitive nub roughly. He felt her orgasm nearing and wanted nothing more than to be inside her slick core when she did. She looked over his shoulder, barely able to see because his body was blocking hers and then back at him. She nodded slowly and reached down to unzip his pants, releasing his cock from its tight confines. With one smooth motion, he pulled his fingers from her and entered her.
***
Part Three - "Forming a Plan"
***
//waiting for the telephone to ring//
He pressed harder against her clit as he waited for her answer, brushing against the sensitive nub roughly. He felt her orgasm nearing and wanted nothing more than to be inside her slick core when she did. She looked over his shoulder, barely able to see because his body was blocking hers and then back at him. She nodded slowly and reached down to unzip his pants, releasing his cock from its tight confines. With one smooth motion, he pulled his fingers from her and entered her.
They both sighed as he filled her. She leaned against the wall, closing her eyes as he moved fluidly in and out of her core, thrusting harder until she was releasing small grunts of pleasure with each stroke. A strange vibration made its way into their senses and Angel paused for a second, realizing finally that his damn cell phone was buzzing in his pocket. He moved forward again, suckling the delicate column of her throat as he moved, pinching her aching nipples through the material that still covered them. As Buffy tipped over the edge of her first orgasm, the cell phone was still humming away with apparently no intention of stopping.
He was breathing heavily as he jerked it out of his pocket, buried to the hilt inside his lover. Her inner muscles were convulsing around him as he nearly shouted, "What the fuck to you want?"
"Where the hell are you two?" Cordelia demanded on the other end, "We're ready to leave. Are you coming?"
"Not yet," he complained, knowing she missed the double entendre. Buffy watched his jaw clenching, half in anger and half in checked lust, with heavy lidded amusement. She pried the phone gently from him and spoke into it breathily, "Go ahead and go, Cordy. We're going to stay here for a little while longer."
"Angel drove Xander," Cordelia snapped, "He and Willow have no way to get home."
***
//you know you turn me on. eyes so white and legs so long//
"Why does Cordelia have to drive a damn sports car?" Angel growled quietly as they watched Xander and Willow enter their house.
"I'm sorry, baby," Buffy purred, still aglow from the orgasm that she had earlier. She crossed the expanse of seat and nibbled on his jaw line, allowing one tiny hand to caress his groin. Her breath was sweet and soft on his neck as she moved there, leaving a wet trail of kisses and licks. Angel gripped the steering wheel, focusing on the road as her lips and hot little hands assaulted him. He felt a rush of air as she unzipped his pants and wrapped her hand around the base of his still erect cock.
He looked around them as she took him in her mouth, scraping her perfect white teeth over the sensitive tip. The convertible allowed for a much better view of what was going on to anyone passing by and thankfully there was no one on either side of them. Her ass was raised in the air as she moved further down on his lap until he felt himself making contact with the back of her throat. He bit his inner jaw, trying to keep control, glancing down at her periodically. He sped up when another car inched up on the side of them. He knew that the driver would have a perfect view of his lover if he pulled up alongside them. Not only was she moving in his lap in slow, tantalizing strokes, but with her panties tucked safely in his pocket, her wet sex was available for prying eyes. He pressed on the gas while simultaneously arching up, straining against his seatbelt. He roared into the parking lot of his apartment complex and slammed the car into park as he released into her steaming mouth. She sat up and licked her lips, giving him a satisfied smile. Even after two years of being with her, he still couldn't believe it when her innocence mutated into the devilish sex kitten he knew her to be.
Pressing the release button on his seatbelt, he zipped up his pants before vaulting from his seat and rounding the front of the car to get to her side. She had already stepped out and closed the door when he reached her. He attacked her mouth, lowering her roughly to the hood of the car. He wanted nothing more to take her then and there, but gathered a sense of reality after long moments of delving into her sweet mouth. He swept her into his arms and made a beeline for the front door and didn't set her back on her feet until they stepped into the elevator. He reached between her thighs once the doors closed behind him, sliding his fingers over her wet, bared sex. He found her clit immediately and twisted it between his forefinger and thumb, delighting in her pant of pleasure.
"Angel," she moaned, gripping his shoulders and digging into the hard muscle there, "Not going to make it. Please."
The ding of the opening elevator doors sounded fuzzy to Buffy as Angel grabbed her hand and led her swiftly down the hallway, cursing himself for choosing the furthest damn apartment possible. He fumbled with his keys for a moment, feeling for the lock as he pressed her against the door, biting at her full lips. They stumbled inside as the door swung open and he yanked the keys from the lock, tossing them aside as he kicked the door shut behind them. Buffy swiftly pulled off her expensive top and skirt to keep her lover from ripping it from her body. Angel shucked his clothes as well and pulled her down on the living room floor with him. Easily, he gripped her narrow hips and lifted her over him.
Dripping wet, she slid down on his throbbing cock, moving up and slamming down once more. His hips left the floor as he pounded back up against her, digging his large fingers into her hips. He watched her perfect breasts hovering above him, swaying with her movements and finally rolled them over, staying buried inside her as they shifted positions. He sucked one pebbled nipple into his mouth and bit into it, twisting the other between his fingertips as he moved evenly inside her. Releasing her breasts, he reached underneath her, gripping her ass and angling her up against him. The slight change had its desired effect and she came with a throaty scream, thrashing wildly against him. Moments later, he let go as well, losing himself in the spiraling oblivion of his lover.
***
//in water colors
shades of gray
something, something holds me, holds me hypnotized//
Angel woke in the middle of the night dying of thirst. Too much beer and not enough water had left him dry and he downed a glass of water and then another before padding back to bed. The slight amount of moonlight streaming through the large bedroom windows was enough for him to make out Buffy's form in the dark. He stopped at the end of the bed and stared at her for a moment before opening the side table drawing and producing a set of matches. He lit the candle next to the bed, returned the matches and looked over her once more. The covers had long ago fallen from the bed and the blue silk sheet was ribboned around her body, enunciating the swell of her breasts and the curve of her bottom. She was lying on her back, her flat belly left bare. One arm was under her sexy bed rumbled head and the other was stretched across the mattress, almost as if she were reaching for him. Her lips were still swollen from being bitten and kissed, her skin still flushed from her multiple orgasms.
After a moment or two of awed staring, he moved to the spare bedroom and carried his easel and paints into the room, setting them up at the foot of the bed. He dervishly mixed paints, laying it evenly over the canvas, detailing her outline first and then moving back in to capture each dainty aspect of her elegant form.
***
//the ladies lover//
Buffy blinked awake and yawned, stretching languidly before reaching for Angel. She felt first, stretching her arm further across the bed before turning to find herself alone. She sat up and was surprised to see him sitting in a chair at the foot of the bed. His naked, sculpted body was dabbed with paint as he slumped in his seat, sleeping fitfully. She tiptoed over and circled the bed to peek at the canvas.
She caught her breath as she saw herself there, looking strangely exotic and lustful in her sleep. It was the first time he had painted her in any other way than memory and she felt an odd sort of warmth and satisfaction rush through her, along with a strong measure of embarrassment for the sensual depiction of herself.
She looked down on him and lightly ran her fingertips over his cheek. At that moment, she wished she could paint or draw so that she could capture his beauty the way he had hers. She lowered herself to the floor and leaned her head against his bare thigh, looking up at his newest creation. Whenever she looked in the mirror, she didn't see what he saw. On the canvas, her skin was lustrous and sexy, not the imperfection that offered itself to her reflection. Her hair on his canvas spilled over her shoulders and fanned the royal blue sheets instead of the way it normally looked lifeless and blandly blonde, hanging there with a life of its own.
She sat there for a long time, marveling at the technique of his brush strokes and at his amazing ability of seeing what wasn't there, until she no longer saw herself there but the two of them. She could almost make his body appear at the end of her reaching fingertips. If she stared hard enough, she could make the image into the forever she wanted with him.
Angel woke up shortly after Buffy had fallen asleep against his thigh and he smiled down at her, loving the way she ached to be close to him. He almost thought that he if were sleeping in the alley she would find him and curl up at his side rather than staying in bed alone. He gathered her little body and carried her back to bed. He glanced at the alarm clock on the way and suppressed his groan. He refused to believe that the alarm would go off in an hour and they would be heading off to meet with Lindsey McDonald.
***
//a diamond delight//
Buffy and Angel were ten minutes late for their meeting with Lindsey, but she was so sweet in her apology that he couldn't be irritated. She decided they would go out to breakfast as a celebration of their new business relationship and both men followed behind her like lost puppies.
Lindsey wanted to hate Angel...did that jerk even have a last name? He never caught it. Either way, he wanted to hate him. He had that dark, broody vibe going on and the only time he seemed remotely human was when he was looking at or talking to his fiancé. She transformed him into a bearable person and he almost *liked* the jerk by the time breakfast had ended.
He really couldn't blame him for being overprotective. Men stared at Buffy as if she were an item on the desert cart and he found himself glaring at the men alongside Angel, giving them a silent warning to back the fuck off. She was innocent and light, bouncing happily in her little yellow sundress. Lindsey was fairly certain that the dress was not meant to be sexy, but it was. In fact, it was far better than anything on the menu. She smiled and laughed, talking cheerily of their plans, completely oblivious to her admirers. Lindsey began to wonder how Angel ever let her out of his sight. She was ravishing and made a sense of protectiveness rise in him that he had never felt for a woman before.
Most of the women he had dated and slept with were ornaments on his arm. They were not companions usually, although there were a few exceptions. He was capable of being in a monogamous relationship and been in several, but thoughts of marriage and love had never crossed his mind. By the time, they headed back over the house, he wasn't just lusting after Buffy Summers, he was enamored of the girl.
Back at the house, Lindsey felt his gut wrench as the adorable couple snuck a kiss on the way up the stairs. If they kept that up, he was going to have to take on the practice of carrying antacids with him when he came to work.
"I have to go to the gallery," she announced to him, much to both of their dismays, "Do you think you boys can get along until lunch time?"
"Course," Angel said, a slow smile spreading over his lips, as if he really meant what he was saying.
"Be nice," she whispered as she kissed him lightly and then trotted down the stairs, waving once she reached her car, "Have fun!"
***
//a sold out scandal//
"To bad they have a restraining order against you," Jhiera said, "You missed a lovely sight last night."
"Taunting me will not help you," Darla said, "You need me to make this work, so just tell me what happened."
"A little bitter, Darla?" Ford asked, tracing her bare shoulder blade with a single fingertip, "Let me tell you what happened. Your *lover* - and I use that phrase lightly, of course - was fucking my girl into the wall at the club like she was a common whore."
"You would have loved it," Jhiera said, shifting on the couch as Ford sat down next to her. Thigh to thigh, they looked over at her, twin expressions of wickedness flashing over their features, "You were right. A slight threat of the ex-boyfriend and my presence sent him hurtling closer to what he used to be. He could shove his dick into her fast enough. It was beautiful."
"Please," Darla drawled, "You seriously want me to believe that both of you weren't jealous and turned on by what you saw? How long did the two of you watch before you were fucking in a different corner of the club?"
"We didn't fuck in the club," Ford answered calmly, "We fucked in the car after we followed them home."
"We tried to keep up with them," Jhiera added, "But we're fairly certain she sucked him off in the car. I think you'll enjoy Angel's education of her, Ford. It would have taken you a much longer time to get her on her hands and knees."
"I got *you* on your hands and knees," he said casually and glanced over at Darla with a twinkle in his eye. He didn't need to add that she had done the same for him. Instead, he stood slowly and offered Jhiera a hand, pulling her to her feet.
"We're off," he said, "We shouldn't be long. Need anything while we're out?"
"Just Buffy Summers," Darla sneered.
"Meet you there," he said with a wink.
***
Part Four "Memory Failure"
***
//and i'm wondering where she's been//
It had not escaped Lindsey's attention that Angel had been watching for Buffy's arrival for over an hour now. It was past one and she still hadn't shown for the promised lunch date. The morning had been surprisingly relaxed and conversational and Lindsey quickly figured out that Angel was less guarded and watchful when Buffy wasn't there to be gawked at. Now that lunchtime had come and was dangerously close to exiting, he was back to being the overprotective dick that he was used to seeing.
”So..." Lindsey said, trying to lighten the mood as they plotted out the week's work. He was only going to coming to the house a couple of days a week since they wanted to do most the work themselves. He was more there for the giving of opinions and direction than anything else but he already knew he would be helping with the labor anyway. He wouldn't be able to keep himself away, "Didn't Buffy say that you had this house for two years now? What took you so long to start working on it?"
"We had some personal issues to deal with," Angel said, not wanting to delve into the whole Darla trial story, "Then we went on a little vacation. When we got back we had the plumbing professionally restored and the whole house rewired."
"Sounds pricey," he answered, watching Angel continue his worried path around the house. He knew that Angel had not heard what he said and didn't care that he had missed it.
"Where is she?" Angel said, walking to the front of the house and looking out the window, "She's never this late."
"Caught up with a client?" Lindsey suggested.
"Nope," he said, running a hand through his hair, "I seriously doubt it."
"Forgot?"
"No," Angel said, turning to glare at him before turning back to the window, "She doesn't *forget* when she has plans with me."
"Sorry," Lindsey mumbled, kicking himself for the hour or so he started to like the guy.
***
//a single note rings on and on and on//
"Buffy? Buffy?"
"Huh?" She answered, jerking alert and looking around her. Slowly, she focused on her surroundings. She looked awkwardly around Ford's expensive car and ran her fingertips along the leather seats, "Sorry. I must have spaced off."
"That's okay," Ford answered, drumming his fingers casually on the steering wheel as they sat in front of the gallery. He watched her, anxiously waiting for her to speak again.
"What did you ask me?"
"If you wanted to have lunch," he said, twisting in the seat to give her his full attention. He clenched his hand into a fist to keep from touching her. It was too soon and even though he didn't want to wait, he knew he had to.
"Uh...no," she said, trying to shake the daze that was clouding her mind, "I have...plans...with Angel. What time is it?"
"1:15," he answered, after glancing at the green digital clock on the dashboard.
"1:15?" she shouted, scrambling from the car, "What happened to the morning? Sorry, Ford, but I'm really late. I gotta go."
"Hey Buff," he called out through the open window as she slammed his car door and prepared to run to her own car, "Wanna have lunch next Monday?"
"Sure," she called back, "Whatever. Call me."
***
//so delicate, lost in the cold//
The car ride to the house where Angel and Lindsey were waiting was agonizingly long. It didn't make sense. She couldn't place how so much time had passed. She glanced in the mirror as she pulled up and studied her face for a second. Her makeup seemed a bit smudged and her lipstick was completely gone. She quickly freshened up and dragged a brush through her hair before running inside.
"I am *so* sorry," Buffy said as she ran into the house, out of breath and frazzled. She screeched to a halt before the two concerned men and looked down at her empty hands, "I was going to bring lunch, wasn't I?"
"Are you okay, Buffy?" Angel asked, stepping forward and holding her shoulders as he looked into her eyes. She looked drowsy and alarmed as if she had overslept and just vaulted from bed.
"Yes," she said, taking a deep breath, "I just...I lost track of time."
"At the gallery?"
"Well, no," she said, "Ford stopped by and we..."
"We what?" Angel said, trying to keep his voice calm. He hated the idea of that guy being alone with her for 30 seconds, let alone however much time she had spent with him this morning and this afternoon.
"We..." Buffy said, starting again. For the life of her, she couldn't remember anything about their time together except for getting in the car and getting out of it, "We just drove around and talked."
"Did something happen, baby?" He asked, craning his neck to catch her eyes. He reminded himself that he wasn't going to jump to conclusions. He didn't trust Ford, but he did trust Buffy, "You seem upset."
"No," she said, shaking off the strange feeling, "I think I'm just tired."
"Okay," he said, caressing her cheek, "Why don't we call it a day? I'll take you home."
"Don't you guys have more to talk about?" she asked looking at Lindsey. Angel turned and looked at him as well. Taking the hint, Lindsey cleared his throat, "Nah. We're just about done for today, don't you think, Angel?"
"Yeah," he answered, shooting Lindsey a grateful look before turning back to Buffy, "We're all done. Come on, I'll take you home."
She nodded absently and leaned into him as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She felt strangely cold despite the warm weather and shivered. Angel fought the urge to carry her to the car. He slipped behind the driver's seat and moved the seat back to accommodate his height and waved at Lindsey as they drove away.
***
//i have to break you
fury drives my vicious blows//
"So?" Darla asked, sitting impatiently with that bitch, Jhiera, as Ford strolled into the room. They had been waiting for the better part of two hours while he took his time with the plain blonde man stealer. Darla was well beyond the point where she could even pretend to be patient. Two years in jail had been more than enough time for her to plot this out and make the arrangements. She wasn't going to wait one more fucking second.
"So?" Ford repeated, mischievously grinning at her.
"Did she remember anything?" Darla demanded, fighting the urge to lose her temper. The man infuriated her, mostly because he was nearly as good at playing the game as she was. In fact, all three of them were just as manipulative and devious as the next. It would be a miracle if they didn't kill each other before this was over.
"Not a thing," he said, flashing both women a cocky smile, "She was trying to figure out where the time had gone and didn't hesitate to agree to lunch next week."
"You're sure," Jhiera asked, leaning back into the couch, looking calculating and erotically hedonistic. She crossed her legs and caressed her thigh, "She might have been faking it."
"You obviously know nothing about Buffy Summers," he said, glancing over to see Darla nodding in agreement, "She wouldn't have been able to hide her reaction. Trust me. She's as honest as she is naive. She has no idea what happened."
"I'm sure you're right," Jhiera answered and then turned to Darla, "You'd better be right about this. I know you *think* you know how Angel is going to react to this, but I disagree. He's not going to just lose her."
"Yes, he will," Darla answered confidently, "He will and you will do your part and walk away. He's mine."
"Of course," Jhiera answered, flicking a glance over at Ford so quickly that Darla missed it. If Darla thought that Jhiera was in this just because she wanted to commit a little crime in her spare time, she was sadly mistaken. Angel would hate Darla when this was over and Jhiera would waste no time filling the gap. She smiled sweetly at Darla and rose to her feet. With a nod, she swayed from the room.
***
//futility feeling the monster climb deeper inside of me//
Buffy slept harder that afternoon than she had in years. She drifted in and out of strange, vibrant dreams, until she stepped into a world that seemed so real, she was no longer sure she was sleeping. Nestled in her sleep, she found herself in her bedroom in her old apartment. She woke inside her dream to see Angel sitting on her bed. It was before they were lovers in the dream, but she already loved him. She wasn't sure if she sensed his entrance to her room, if she heard him or if it was his weight on the mattress that jarred her dream mind awake, but it didn't matter because he was twining his fingers with hers, caressing her palm with his thumb.
He pulled her up to a sitting position, pressing her against him and immediately into his ardent kiss. It was pure passion, pure love. She pulled his shirt off, scraping his skin with her fingernails in her urgency and he wasted no time removing hers. She thought she heard him expel a long held breath as her bare skin moved over his. He smoothed his hands over her back as he kissed her, leaving no golden inch untouched.
He leaned forward, lowering her to the mattress again. Languidly, taking his time, he moved on top of her and explored her body as he positioned himself between her open thighs. He entered her without warning, diving into her liquid heat and it felt just like the first time as he laved kisses on her breasts. After long moments, he lifted his head to look at her. She rocked back against him as she focused on his face. But the smiling lips weren't Angel's, they were Ford's. He moved harder inside of her as she reared back, gasping at the sight of the wrong man.
Strangling on a scream, she looked over his shoulder and Angel was standing in the doorway, a look of anguish rather than fury on his handsome face. As Ford spilled his seed inside of her, she screamed Angel's name, but it was too late. Fear settled over her soul as she watched him walk away. The last sounds she heard over her own screams was Ford's groan of release and the click of the front door closing behind the man she loved.
***
//tear at flesh
and rip at skin
and smash at doubt//
Angel held her until she fell asleep. He laid there holding her for long moments, smoothing his hand over her back in slow, soothing strokes until her breathing evened out. Finally, he untangled himself from her and paced around the house. Hours passed and he was still pacing and Buffy was still sleeping. Occasionally, she choked squeaks into the silent room and he hurried in to check on her. Finally, his own worry getting the best of him, he picked up the phone and dialed.
"Gunn Investigations."
"Gunn," he whispered, "It's Angel."
"Hey man," Gunn said laughing, "Where have you been for the last couple of weeks? That hot little fiancé of yours tie you to the bed again?"
"I need a favor," he whispered, moving further from the bedroom.
"Why are you whispering?" Gunn asked, "Oh damn. This is about Buffy, isn't it?"
"Yeah. I need you to look into someone for me."
"Angel," Gunn said, "The last time she was in trouble, you were right. But I think you're paranoid, man."
"Billy Fordham," Angel said, ignoring his friend's comments, "Look him up. He went to high school with Buffy and lived in Boston for a couple of years. Now he's back. She spent the afternoon with him and now she's acting like she's been drugged."
"Angel. Seek help. She's fine. No one is trying to kill her."
"Billy Fordham," he repeated a little more sternly, "F-O-R-D-H-A-M."
"Alright, alright. This is the last time. I'm not kidding," Gunn said, scribbling the guy's name into his notebook.
"I want to know everything about him," Angel explained, making sure he was making himself completely clear, "where he lives, what he does for a living. Gunn, I want to know who is mother is, got it?"
"ANGEL!" His lover's desperate scream caused him to hang up the phone without bothering to say goodbye. He dashed to the bedroom where Buffy was thrashing on the bed and screaming. He grabbed her shoulders to calm her and she bucked away, flinging herself from the bed and onto the floor.
"Buffy!" Angel shouted, dropping to his knees on the floor beside her, "Baby, wake up. It's a dream. It's just a dream."
She blinked, heaving breaths as she recognized him. She sat there, looking at him through a layer of fresh tears before forcing his name from her lips, "Angel?"
"It's me," he said softly, reaching to brush her tears away, "It's just me."
She launched herself into his arms and pressed her face against his chest, calmed by the sound of his heart beating, "Promise me you'll never leave me."
"I'll never leave you," he promised, kissing the top of her head.
"You'll love me forever?" she whispered, pulling back to look at him, nearly begging him for the promise.
"Forever," he answered, "That's the whole point."
He picked her up and put her back in bed, holding her tightly for a moment, "What was the dream about?"
"We were in my old apartment," she answered, muffled against his chest, "You came in and we were making love and..."
"And?"
"I-I can't remember," she answered, sitting up in bed and looking down at him, "We were making love and then...something happened. God, what happened?"
She stared at him for a long moment, reaching her mental fingers out to recapture the escaping memory. The more she reached, the further it fluttered away until she couldn't even remember the beginning.
***
Part Five "Choices"
***
//one by one her senses die
the memories fade
and leave her eyes//
Buffy woke in the morning, peeled Angel's fingers from her waist and eased out of his arms. She looked down at the dress she still wore from the day before and tried to remember why she had gone to bed in it. The night before was a bit hazy and she was having trouble recalling much of anything at all from the day before. She looked down at Angel, who was still sleeping soundly and crunched her face in confusion to see that he had slept fully clothed as well. He even had his boots on.
She sat on the edge of the bed and looked down on him. He looked as if he hadn't slept at all. Dark circles ringed his eyes and even in his sleep he looked concerned and far from content. She traced his eyebrows with her fingertips, reverently pursuing the paths of them. After a moment, she kissed his forehead lightly and stood, shedding her rumpled clothing. She ran her fingers through her hair and headed for the bathroom, focusing her mind on the day ahead rather than the one that had already passed. When she stepped underneath the warm spray, she was intent on washing away the muddled feelings that were still clouding her mind. The water did wonders for her spirit and by the time she stepped out onto the cool tiled floor, she was humming a tune. She dried off and slipped on Angel's black silk shirt, which had become her robe over the past year or so.
Five minutes later, she was standing at the window, cradling her bright flowered mug as she waited for the coffee to sputter from the pot. She smiled into the quasi-quad that sat in the center of their apartment complex, out of place when she thought about the city right outside her front door. Large leafy trees towered over the building and flower beds contemplating buds surrounded by cobble stones sat happily around the base of the building. All that life was blooming in the peaking dawn and she felt it was just for her today.
***
//you know just what to do
lick your lips and i want you//
Angel woke up from a sound sleep and reached for his lover only to find her missing. He lurched up in bed and before he scrambled out in search of her, he forced himself to sit still, listen and breath. He could smell coffee brewing and the faint sound of his fiancé humming a little song from the other room. He released a sigh of relief as he bent to unlace his boots and toss them aside. He wasn't sure where he thought she would be. It wasn't like she had ever left without telling him goodbye, but a knot of apprehension and fear had been sitting in his stomach since the night before. He felt constricted and overly warm after sleeping all night in his clothes, so pulled his shirt off before padding out of the bedroom to find Buffy.
She was standing at the window, sipping a cup of coffee and enjoying the early morning. He walked up behind her and brushed her long blonde hair aside to kiss her neck before wrapping his arms around her waist.
"Good morning," she said as she relaxed against him, molding herself to the space that fit her perfectly.
"Morning, love," he said, resting his chin on the top of her head as he watched her reflection in the glass, "How are you feeling?"
"Fine," she said in a deceivingly bright tone, turning in his arms and offering him her cup. He took a sip of the sugary liquid and grimaced at her. He liked his coffee strong enough to chew with no sugar or cream. Buffy, on the other hand, added so much to hers that it no longer resembled coffee at all, "How are you?"
"I'll be better when I get real coffee," he answered gruffly, his voice a deep rumbling that always reminded her how much she loved him. He kissed her gently before heading to the kitchen for his cup, taking on his tired morning swagger as he made his way toward the coffee pot holding liquid he knew wouldn't be nearly strong enough for his liking, "Are you sure you're feeling okay?" he called out from the kitchen.
"I'm great," she called back, shaking her head at his constant concern, "Why wouldn't I be?"
"Well, last night..." he said, coming out with a steaming mug that had Van Gogh's *Starry Night* on the side of it, a gift from Buffy six months ago. He would have never bought a mug like that but she insisted that they both have their own special cups for coffee together. *It's tradition,* she had said, handing it to him with that sexy, innocent smile on her face, *Everyone has their own special cup.* She had turned, pulling mugs from the cupboard to prove her point. *This one's Willow's,* she said, revealing a bright orange mug that slightly resembled a toppled over birthday cake to Angel. He had laughed at her while she pulled out all the coffee cups and told her whose cup was whose.
He took a sip from his mug and settled in his chair, now feeling uneasy about the memory as if it would soon just be that - a memory, rather than a part of their lives together. He shook off the thought and looked at her, unable to finish his sentence.
"I'm fine," she chirped, crossing the room in a few steps and crawling on his lap. She ran her fingers through his tousled hair and looked down on him with a serious, but happy expression, "Really, Angel, it was no big deal."
"No big deal? You were really out of it, Buffy," he said, unconvinced of just how fine she was. She carefully set her mug down on the table and took his to do the same before leaning in to kiss him. He wrapped his arms around her, his large hands sliding over the black silk as the kiss deepened.
"I'm fine," she repeated against his lips. He tried to object but she pressed against him again, dipping her tongue into his mouth. She pulled his hand from her hip and guided it between her thighs as she bit at his lips. He stopped her guidance just before he reached her moist center and gripped her thigh instead as he pulled his mouth away from hers.
"I'm not going to be this easily distracted, baby," he said, "I know what you're trying to do and I will be glad to make love to you just as soon as I'm sure you're alright."
"I'm-"
"One more ‘fine' and I'm going to lose it," he growled in warning.
"Angel," Buffy groaned, "I wasn't feeling well yesterday. Maybe it was something I ate. Who knows? I'm feeling wonderful today. Everything is perfectly f...great."
"I'm worried," he said, "I think we should take you to the doctor and find out what happened."
"I have an idea," she said, moving to straddle his thighs, "Why don't we forget about going to the doctor and make love instead?"
"Buffy," he said as she unbuttoned his pants, "It's important to me that you're okay."
"I'll be okay," she whispered as she wrapped her hand around his erect cock, "When you're inside me."
***
//the hope of secrecy//
"Darla," Penn said, frantically standing up from his desk and walking around the large oak blockade to reach her. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to the side, as if he thought that three inches of space he just moved her would make all the difference. Using his height as a failed attempted at intimidation, he whispered, "What the hell are you doing here? We agreed we would not be seen together again until Monday."
"I need reassurance, Penn," she said, standing her ground as he invaded her space. No man would ever intimidate her, especially not Penn Jacobs, "My sources say she isn't acting any differently at all. It's almost as if it didn't happen at all."
"I told you," he answered, "It's a two phase project. I already explained that there would be no reaction after last week. We've been through this and you are risking both of our asses to get information you already have. You have to go now."
"You're already knee deep in this and I'm paying you enough to make it worth your while," she answered, lowering herself into one of his office chairs with a confident smile, "Now, I want you go over it again and be specific."
"This doesn't have a damn thing to do with money and you know it."
"Fine," she breathed, "Whatever. You'll get your revenge on Angel and you'll be rich as well."
"If I get arrested for this..."
"Penn, honey," she crooned, "Let's just take it one step at a time, okay?"
***
//smile at me slyly//
Thursday morning, Angel groaned as the alarm went off and slapped it so hard it bounced on the end table. He hadn't been sleeping well and it was beginning to show in his attitude. Several days had passed since Buffy's little incident and she hadn't shown the slightest relapse into her peculiar behavior. In fact, she seemed happier than usual. She hadn't acted strangely at all and hadn't had a single nightmare. She never mentioned it again and seemed to have completely forgotten about it. Angel, however, was not even close to forgetting about it. Gunn had come up with a bunch of useless information that led nowhere. Ford was a guy who had no prison record, no shady dealings. The most incriminating evidence he found was that he had a speeding ticket six months ago.
Angel was more than frustrated by both the information provided and the patronizing tone to which it was given to him. He didn't give a good godamn if the man was up for sainthood. He knew people and he didn't trust that guy as far as he could throw him, which was a good long way if he found out he had anything to do with Buffy's incident the week before.
"You have to get up," Buffy whispered, her breath tickling his ear.
"I'm calling in sick," he grumbled, his back to her as he faced the alarm clock's angry red numbers. He didn't want to go work on that stupid fucking house while something was very wrong with his lover. He had no intention of leaving her alone at the gallery day in and day out when Ford could walk in at any second and do something to her.
"There's no one to call," she said, her voice betraying her smile, "Guess I'm the boss then, huh?"
She smiled at his growl of irritation and began tracing his back with her fingertips. When she spoke again, her voice was silky and streaked with want , "I don't take kindly to slacker employees. You'll have to be punished."
"Really?" he said, turning over to face her, his eyes brightening. He pulled her to his chest in a sudden movement and she squealed in protest. His hands wandered over her back and slid down to cup her ass.
"No," she said, wiggling out of his embrace, "No goodies for you. Especially if you're going to stay home and be a big ole grouch."
"Buffy," Angel whined, falling against the pillows in exasperation.
"How about this," she said, pulling closer, "I'll leave the gallery in my employees' capable hands and I'll go work at the house with you today."
"Really?"
"Uh-huh," she said, intertwining her hands with his as they began their naughty approach once more, "Come on. It's time to get up."
"I am up," he said, lifting his hips to press against her suggestively.
***
//slipping through the door
hear my heartbeats in the hallway
echoes round and round inside my head//
Lindsey never went to the house on Thursdays, but this week his other projects looked like they were on track, so he decided to head over to Buffy and Angel's monster of a fixer-upper to see if they wanted an extra pair of hands to reinforce the dining room wall. Angel was trying his hand at dry walling and Lindsey had given him some tips, but rebuilding a whole wall for the first time was a bit of a job.
He walked into the house and immediately knew Buffy was there by the trademark blasting of the radio. He could already see her bobbing around the room in his mind, smudged with paint and dust in those little cut-offs he had grown to love. He threaded his way through the rooms, looking for the annoyingly happy couple and stopped when he heard a groan of pleasure coming from the other room. Guiltily, he tiptoed toward the sound and peeked around corner.
He sucked in a silent breath at the sight of them. They were both covered in dust and Angel was leaning against the partially gutted dining room wall. Debris from their efforts lay scattered on the floor around them as Buffy knelt in front of him, impressively deep throating his frustratingly large cock. Lindsey watched awestruck as her beautiful mouth circled his cock, her head bopping back and forth just slow enough to cause Angel to groan in need. His dark head slammed against the broken wall as he arched his back, pressing against her lovely mouth as he came. Lindsey was hard as a rock as he watched her swallow his seed, milking him for every drop. She licked her lips with a satisfied smile as Angel looked down on her through heavy lidded eyes.
"Feel better now?" she asked, sliding up his body and kissing his neck. He didn't answer as he pulled back and yanked her shirt roughly from her tiny body. Lindsey watched as a pair of perfectly rounded breasts bounced free. Angel dipped down and sucked a nipple into his mouth as his large hand completely covered the other. She tossed her head back and her long blonde hair streamed down her narrow back as she writhed against him, threading her fingers through his hair. Angel pulled off her shorts and Lindsey stepped back one step, contemplating leaving but knew he couldn't as her tight ass came into full view. Angel quickly looked around for a cleaner place on the floor and lowered her in a manner suggesting he had done that very same thing dozens of times before. He kissed down her body before pressing his face into her nest of damp curls.
Lindsey should have left. He was well aware that what he was doing was very, very wrong. He was also aware that Angel would not only fire him, but beat him within an inch of his life if he knew he watched this whole miraculous event. It almost would have been worth the prospect of a few broken bones when he watched the look of ecstasy cross her lovely face. She made the most groin tightening mewls of pleasure as Angel greedily ate her pussy, lapping at her and biting. When she came, she arched up, her hips leaving the floor, her back arching so that her shoulder blades were pressed against the floor and her breasts were suspended in the air, nipples hard and begging to be sucked. Her face in release was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen.
She pulled Angel's shirt off as he positioned himself between her thighs, still mostly clad in his worn blue jeans. Lindsey nearly came as he heard her sweet voice come ragged from her lips, "Inside me, Angel. Now."
He watched in fascination as she spread wider for him and Angel plunged into her with a force that made Lindsey think her fragile bones should have broken. She didn't appear to mind, however, but bucked back against him, grabbing his ass to pull him in deeper. Lindsey backed away and nearly ran from the house. He jumped in his truck and peeled away from the house, driving several miles away and then pulling over to park. He leaned his head against the seat and closed his eyes as he willed his erection to go away. She was the most magnificent creature he had ever seen. He was tormented by the fact that Angel was becoming his friend and yet, given the chance, he would steal Buffy from him and never look back.
***
//change your mind
you're always wrong, always wrong//
"He's completely lost his damn mind this time," Gunn said, late Friday night at Spike's bar, downing the rest of his beer and sliding it over to Doyle for a refill.
"He's like that when it comes to the chit," Spike said in an almost grunt, "Why're you surprised?"
"I don't know," Gunn answered sullenly. Angel had made himself overly annoying this week with calls and visits. He had asked him to double check leads and look into things about this guy that were lost causes. William Fordham was a boy scout, for crying out loud, "This is worse than before."
"Worse how?" Doyle asked, pouring himself a drink. He always found that bartending went so much smoother when he was partaking of what he was serving.
"He's called me twice a day every day for more information on this guy. Whatever happened to Buffy didn't even upset her at all. I don't even know why I'm still investigating Mr. Squeaky Clean."
"Let Peaches pay you to have your guys waste their time," Spike said, and then took a drink, contemplating for a second, "Did you tell him yet?"
"‘Bout Darla?" Doyle asked, receiving a confirming nod from Spike.
"Hell no," Gunn answered, "He finds out she's out of the slammer and I'll never get to sleep again. He's got a restraining order against her and she hasn't been within ten miles of either of them."
"You've been having her followed then?"
"On and off."
"Good man," Spike said, sliding from his barstool and landing on his feet, feeling a bit more wobbly than he expected, "But I have to tell you, mate, if he finds out you've been keeping this from him, there's going to be a bloody slaughter."
***
//so sad with red desperation, i clench my hands//
After breakfast with Lindsey on Monday morning, the three of them sat chatting over coffee. He hated Ford, but Lindsey, he was actually starting to like. He was so down to earth and friendly, he couldn't help but like him. Sure, he caught him eyeing Buffy more than once, but a man would have to be blind to keep from sneaking a peek now and then. Lindsey never ogled her, which was really as much as he could expect. Hell, Gunn was more obvious about it than Lindsey.
"What are you doing today, Buffy?" Lindsey asked with a twinkle in his eye. Every time he looked at her since Thursday, he felt his body jerk in response to what he had seen, "It must be hard work with as much sugar as you just put in your coffee."
"Going to the gallery, Linds. Same as every Monday," Buffy said with a laugh, "But you know it's extremely hard work."
"Coming over for lunch today?" Angel asked casually, sipping his own sugar free brew.
"No, actually," she answered, grabbing his hand, "I almost forgot to tell you. Ford called. I'm having lunch with him today."
"The fuck you are," Angel growled, in a voice so dangerously low that Lindsey nearly choked on his coffee in surprise.
***
Part Six "Missing"
***
//so sad with red desperation, i clench my hands//
"Coming over for lunch today?" Angel asked casually, sipping his own sugar free brew.
"No, actually," she answered, grabbing his hand, "I almost forgot to tell you. Ford called. I'm having lunch with him today."
"The fuck you are," Angel growled, in a voice so dangerously low that Lindsey nearly choked on his coffee in surprise. Buffy's jaw dropped and for a second she just stared at him, trying to figure out if she had imagined the harsh words. She didn't imagine it, however, and after a moment of shocked silenced, he continued, "I don't trust him. I don't want you to be alone with him. Ever."
"Angel," Buffy said, trying to keep her annoyance in check, especially considering they were in a public place, "I understand that you don't like Ford, but he's my friend. I already told him that I would meet him for lunch and I fully intend to go."
"Then I'm coming with you," he said, still speaking in a voice that Lindsey thought sounded murderous. He now understood what must have been flying through that other guy's mind just before his arm snapped in three places.
"No," Buffy said in a quiet, but determined voice.
"Buffy," Angel warned, struggling to keep his temper flaring more than it already was, "You can't go. You *won't* go. I'll fucking kill him before you spend one minute alone with him."
"Don't threaten us, Angel," Buffy said, wrenching her hand free from his and raising her voice, "I will go to lunch and you will not touch him!"
"US?" Angel shouted, the patrons of the establishment be damned.
She stood and pushed her chair back, nearly knocking it over with the motion and looked over at Lindsey, "Excuse me, Lindsey. I'm sorry. I have to go."
"Sure," Lindsey nodding, thankful he was able to get that word out of his suddenly dry mouth. He couldn't believe it when Angel stood, grabbed her arm and held her fast. Actually, he could believe that part. What he couldn't believe was the way she expertly twisted free of his grasp and looked up angrily at her fiance, who both towered over her and outweighed her by a good 100 pounds, unwilling to be bullied by his fury or his size. She irately spat out, "I'm going. If you try to stop me, if you follow me or have me followed by Gunn or anyone else I will *never* forgive you."
Buffy stormed from the restaurant, nearly knocking over a passing waiter and disappeared through the front door without a look back. Angel sank into his chair and gripped the edge of the table as he tried to calm down.
"Fuck," he growled, staring at the table as if it were mocking him.
"You...uh...think that Ford guy had something to do with what happened to Buffy last week?" Lindsey asked, after waiting a few moments for Angel to gather his senses. When he looked up, Lindsey almost wished he had kept his mouth shut because what met his eyes was a painful mixture of anger, hurt and concern, "I *know* that bastard had everything to do with what happened to her last week. And now, there's not a damn thing I can do to protect her. I should have shut the hell up and followed her instead. For a taciturn guy, I sure chose the wrong times to talk."
"Let's go," Lindsey said, standing up and tossing several crisp bills onto the table.
"You think a little manual labor is going to make me feel better? Believe me, Lindsey. I'm not going to the house today or I'll knock down more than a godamn wall."
"You know where Ford lives and works, right?"
"Yeah."
"Good," Lindsey said, "She never said anything about following him. Come on."
Angel almost smiled as he followed Lindsey from the restaurant. Lindsey wasn't a saint. He didn't want Buffy to be with Angel, but he was damned if he was going to lose her to that lowlife piece of shit, Billy Fordham.
***
//i'm not meant to be here, but so what?//
Ford wasn't at the office building he either worked at or pretended to, so Lindsey drove over to his house, which was a nice, neat little two story in a decent suburban area. Lindsey parked a few houses down and settled in to wait. He was floored when Angel opened the door and hopped out. Course, he realized that by now, nothing about his lunatic almost friend should ever take him off guard.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm going to take a closer look," Angel said, "We didn't come all the way here to sit outside and wonder what he's doing in there. For all we know, he's making the damn syringe he plans to stick in Buffy later."
"Right," Lindsey said, in a sarcastic tone, which earned him a dirty look. He followed Angel to the house and crept closely behind him as he walked around the entire house. When that was fruitless, Angel rounded the back of the house and jumped up, grabbing the second floor balcony and began to climb up.
"Are you out of your mind?" Lindsey whispered loudly as Angel landed soundlessly and crept toward the window, ignoring him. Sighing in frustration, Lindsey jumped up and hoisted himself up as well.
"She's...stunning," Lindsey said, peering through the window next to Angel at the couple talking while lying lazily in bed.
"She's my ex," Angel explained, looking over Jhiera suspiciously, "What do you think she's doing with Ford? Seems a little fishy. My ex and Buffy's ex together."
***
//you're jumping someone else's train//
"Your *boyfriend* and some other guy have been following me all morning," Ford said as Buffy buckled her seatbelt, "Thought you might want to know before we left."
"Really?" Buffy asked, raising an eyebrow in disbelief and turning around in her seat. She was still fuming from this morning's argument and could scarcely believe that Angel would do exactly what she asked him not to. Of course, she was doing exactly what he asked her not to, but that really wasn't the point, "Where are they?"
"Parked a block away, on the right," Ford said, looking through his rearview mirror, "Behind that SUV."
"I'll be right back," she said as she released her seatbelt and jogged down the street. As she neared them, they looked at each other, pretending to be talking, knowing that she had seen them and there was no escaping the inevitable confrontation.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Buffy shouted as Angel rolled down the window of Lindsey's truck. She pointed her anger at Lindsey as well and shouted again, "And you're helping him!"
Lindsey shrugged noncommitally and said nothing as Angel started to open the door.
"No," she said, slamming the partially open door and nearly crushing his fingers in the process, "Don't get out. Stay here. In fact, stay here until we are far, far away."
"Buffy," Angel said, "He's planning something with my ex-girlfriend. We saw them together-"
"God!" she screamed, "Just...stop it, Angel! Stop."
She ran up the street as Angel called out after her. Breathing heavily, she jumped into Ford's car and shouted, "Go. Now. Lose them if you have to."
Ford peeled away from the curbed and swung around the corner, speeding up as he did. By the time Angel and Lindsey reached the end of the block, they were long gone.
***
//passion is murdering me//
Three hours and ten minutes later, Angel and Lindsey were drinking coffee across the street from the gallery, waiting for her to come back. After two hours, Angel called her cell phone and hung up when her voice mail answered. At three hours, he had drank a pot of coffee, his hands were shaking and Lindsey sat next to him in silence, unsure of what to do or say. He was pretty sure that Angel would sit there all night if he had to. Buffy's car was still parked in front of the gallery and so he wanted to believe that she would come back at some point to retrieve it.
Just as Angel was teetering on the edge of picking people off at random, Ford's car pulled up. He stood and watched as Buffy and Ford sat in the car, looking as if they were talking. Angel waited, inching toward the door and barely keeping himself from going across the street and ripping the ex out of his car and breaking his face on the asphalt. The only thing that kept him from moving forward was Buffy's anger.
Ford drove away and Buffy stood on the street, looking after him for a moment. Angel watched as she pulled her cell phone from her purse and dialed. He watched, puzzling out who she could be calling when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at Lindsey as he answered it.
"Buffy?"
"Angel," she said, swaying unevenly on the street as he moved toward the door, "Something's....wrong. Feel funny."
He ran out into the street and across it, hanging up on her as she stood there. Confused, she looked at the phone and closed it before slipping it into her purse. She didn't see Angel as tears sprang to her eyes but seconds later she was in his arms.
Lindsey pulled his truck up next to them and leaned across the seat, throwing the door open. Angel climbed in with Buffy on his lap. Cradling her against his chest, he shut the door and nodded at Lindsey.
"Hospital?" Lindsey asked nervously.
"Yes," Angel answered and Buffy responded as well with a shaky, "No."
"Buffy, you have to go," he whispered, "He hurt you." *And I'm going to kill him for it,* he added silently.
"Please," she whispered, sobbing against his chest, "Just wanna go home. Please Angel."
"Buffy..."
"Please," she rasped, "Hospital can't help me." Angel looked at Lindsey, defeated. He put the truck in gear and headed toward the apartment, knowing for certain he was doing the wrong thing, but just like Angel, he couldn't argue with her tearful plea.
"What happened, baby?" he whispered, stroking her hair with a shaking hands.
"We..." she said, hiccuping, "We drove away and I told him to lose you so you couldn't follow. He went around the corner and we went for a couple of miles. I was upset about our fight so I told him I wanted to come back and talk to you."
"And then what?" Angel said, his words coming out in a snarl.
"He came back. I got out and called you," Buffy answered, "And I felt funny."
"Buffy, you were gone for over three hours," he said, "Something else happened."
"Not three hours," Buffy said, snuggling against his chest, "Love you. Couldn't wait three hours."
***
//staring at myself, reflected in the eyes of a dead man//
Just as he had before, Angel climbed into bed, bringing Buffy with him. She slept and drifted in and out of similar vibrant dreams just as she had the week prior. Finally, her dream approached, the images so real she was certain she was awake. Again she found herself in her bedroom in her old apartment. Angel sat on her bed as she woke up.
Forgetting what happened in the last dream, she melted against him. He pulled her up to a sitting position, kissing her deeply. They undressed each other in surreal movements, slower than before. He smoothed his hands over her body, as if he were committing her to memory to save for a rainy day.
He leaned forward, lowering her to the mattress again. He moved on top of her and she opened for him, never fearing her lover's entrance. It never occurred to her that it wasn't him. He entered her, diving into her liquid heat and it felt like it was the very last time. He moved in a memory and again lowered his head to lave kisses on her breasts. After long moments, he lifted his head to look at her. It wasn't Angel and strangling on the same scream, she looked over his shoulder. Angel was standing in the doorway, a look of fury and hatred on his handsome face. As Ford spilled his seed inside of her, she screamed Angel's name, but it was too late. Angel's face turned into pure abhorrence and contempt as he watched Buffy lying on the bed, legs spread for another man.
"Slut," he spat as he walked away, slamming the door over the sound of Ford's groan of release.
***
//close my eyes and hold so tightly
scared of what the morning brings
waiting for tomorrow
never comes//
Angel fought his tiny lover as her fists beat against his chest. She screamed as she tried to get away, caught in his arms. Choking and crying, she shouted, "Angel! Come back! Let me go! LET ME GO! ANGEL!"
"Buffy!" Angel finally shouted, when his comforting words were not working. She blinked her eyes open and looked up at him.
"Angel?"
"It was a dream," he whispered, "Just another bad dream."
"No," she said, biting her trembling lower lip. Her chest was aching. She was waiting for her heart to fall from it and roll unwanted on the floor. What if Angel left? What if he didn't love her anymore?
"Yes," he contradicted, kissing her damp forehead as proof of his existence. He held her more tightly as she shuddered in his arms.
"No," she said, "It was real. You left me. You didn't love me anymore. You called me a-"
"No," he said, pulling her against his chest, "No, love, I didn't say that. I love you. I'm here."
"Don't leave," she sobbed, "I didn't mean it. I didn't do it. I swear, Angel."
"I know, baby," he whispered, "I know you didn't."
***
//i would break down at your feet and beg forgiveness
plead with you
but i know that it's too late
and there's nothing i can do//
When Buffy woke in the morning, she repeated her motions from the week before. She pried herself from Angel and stood, looking down at her clothing, trying to remember what happened and coming up empty. Heading for the shower, she washed away her fuzzy thoughts and missing memories. Again, she donned his black silk shirt and went to the kitchen to start the coffee.
As she listened to the coffee maker sputter and pop, she wandered around the apartment, looking at their things - some of them his, some hers and some belonging to both them. He always said they would share everything, that everything he had was hers. She made her way to the spare bedroom and looked over the room that had served as his studio for the past two years. Various paintings of her and some others hung on the walls and leaned against it. Leftovers from art showings and ones he or she chose to keep were piled up haphazardly, fully prepared to hang in their house when it was finished. Against the far wall was the one he had done last week. It was the first almost nude painting of herself and she sat in his chair and stared at it, cocking her head as she made out each curve and stroke.
Self disgust flung it's way up her throat and she leaned her head into her hands as she waited for it to pass before standing and heading to the bedroom. Forgetting about the coffee, she took off his shirt and let it slip to the floor. She dressed quickly and went to the closet, pulling her suitcase from the top shelf. She laid it on the floor and pulled her clothes from the closet, hanger and all, not really paying attention to what she was taking. When she had filled the suitcase, over half of her clothes remained, but she zipped up the case and pulled out her overnight bag. Swiftly and quietly, she stuffed panties, socks and shoes in the bag. She left just enough room for essential toiletries. Running to the bathroom, she stuffed them on top before closing the bag.
When she made it back into the bedroom, Angel was awake, sitting on the edge of the bed. He looked over her and the pack bags, then, after taking a deep breath, he asked, "Where are you going, Buffy?"
"I'm moving out, Angel," she firmly.
"Why?"
"I don't love you," she answered, her voice coming through with no emotion. Her words could not be mistaken. She had spoken them plainly. His jaw dropped as she set her bag down and slipped her engagement ring off of her finger and held it out for him, "Here."
"I don't want that," he said, shaking his head.
"It's yours," she said.
"No," he said. The ring made a tingling sound as it hit the bedside table, bouncing twice before wobbling to stillness. She turned, went across the room and began gathering her bags.
"Buffy," he said, in a voice that would have broken her heart if she still had one, "Please. Please, baby, just talk to me. We can work this out. Ford did something to you. This isn't you. Don't you remember? Last night you loved me. You begged me not to leave you and now you're leaving me. Don't you see?"
"I remember, Angel," she said, hoping the lie came through truthfully enough. In fact, she didn't remember last night. She barely remembered anything of loving him at all, "I can't believe it's taken me so long to realize how bad you are for me. You're right. I said I loved you. I thought I did, but I don't. I was afraid to face the world alone. I'm not anymore. I'm ready to be on my own."
She moved toward the bedroom door and he followed. She stopped, not turning around and spoke gently, "Don't try to stop me, Angel."
"I love you, Buffy," he said, "I know you love me. Buffy, you love me."
"I don't," she said and without looking back she walked toward the door and out of it. Angel stood there for a long time staring at the closed door, trying to make what happened unhappen in his mind because it just wasn't possible. You didn't lose the love of your life just like that. A person doesn't wake up in the morning and stop loving someone.
He went into their bedroom and picked up his black silk shirt from the floor. Strange that it didn't even seem like his anymore. He hadn't worn it in over two years since Buffy decided to use it as her bathrobe. He crumpled the shirt in his hands and brought it to his nose, inhaling her scent. It was that second that his mind and heart met and realized that she was really gone.
***
TBC...
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