Fallen Angels

Author: Hannahbee

Disclaimer: I don't own anything of BtVS, AtS, Kindred: The Embraced or the role-play KtE is based on.

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Definitely B/A, I'm not so sure about the others. *shrug* Well, let's see where my muse is guiding me.

Spoiler: Set right in "I Will Remember You" and gets AU from there.

Distribution: Denial Haven.

Summary: The aftermath of IWRY leaves Buffy and Angel with some surprises, unknown abilities, and new and familiar dreams, causing them both to research their origins, and that leads leads them to important prophecies and a mutual past.

AN 1: The Buffy and Angel verses are quite different from the Kindred lore so I had to make slight changes to fit my story. I hope, no one is offended. Especially those who are into the role-play Kindred. I'm sorry that I can't go too deep into detail.

AN 2: You don't have to know anything about "Kindred: The Embraced". Everything- I need- will be explained along the way. And it will probably take some time till I get into Kindred lore. Except for a little bit in the beginning. According to the role-play, Caine was the first vampire, he created three Childer and they built the City Enoch before Caine disappeared. But everything else concerning him and Lilith- supposedly the first human female- is made up.

AN 3: Since this fic focuses mostly on B/A, other characters might get not enough on-screen time in your opinion. I'm really sorry about that.

AN 4: //…// means flashback

Dedicated to: My pack of vixens and all my loyal readers. Thank you so much, guys. *smooch*

Are you still with me? Good, now onto the story.



San Fransisco 1996

It was a mild night... How cliché! Whistler thought. How many stories start with the same or at least a similar beginning? But nevertheless here he was, at the port of San Francisco. A Slayer… correction, the soon-to-be-called Slayer… had brought him here.

It had been centuries since he'd last seen or heard of one. A time when those warriors didn't even have that particular name, a time that nowadays only consisted of legends and myths.

The Slayer a myth- ha!

If they only knew. It would turn their whole world upside down. It surely had turned his when he'd learned all about the parentage of the Slayers. It was the most ironic, most unbelievable thing he'd ever heard. But it was the truth nevertheless. Caine and Lilith were the first Slayer's parents.

Lilith- created at the same time as Adam- was the first human female. Although she was his consort, she was anything but submissive. She demanded to be treated equally. When Adam didn't comply her wish she fled paradise. In his loneliness he asked for God's help. Three archangels were sent to search for her and bring her back, but she was never found. And since she was immortal, always on the run or hiding, she never felt the decades passing by, never knew that so much had changed.

Adam had long ago given up seeing Lilith ever again and taken another mate: Eve. They lost their immortality and created offspring. Their first son Caine- later called the third human since nobody considered Lilith as a human anymore because she was immortal- slew his brother and was therefore cursed with immortality and the hunger for blood. It made him the first vampire ever. Or Kindred as they liked to call themselves. He, too, spent decades wandering the earth, encountering hatred and loathing everywhere he went. Haunted by demons and humans alike, drowning in his despair he finally created three Childer by draining the humans of all their blood and exchanging it with some of his own. This ritual would soon be known as the Embrace.

Together with his Childer he lived in the first city- Enoch- where they were worshipped as gods. But unlike his brethren Caine still felt shame and remorse for what he had done and he gradually isolated himself once more.

That's when he met Lilith. Against nature the first vampire and the first human female fell in love. She spent decades at his side and saw new clans of Kindred emerge before she finally became one with Caine when he embraced her. Unbeknownst to them both she'd already been with his child for several months, but she gave birth nevertheless.

Luckily, the child was almost untouched by its mother's change. It was human, but endowed with the strength only common among Kindred and it had the ability to recognize them. Apparently, Caine was the only Kindred who could father children. They didn't know how or why, just assumed he could because he was a cursed human and not made Kindred by Embrace.

They would never have the time to explore the reasons of their blessing. Their joy and surprise was quickly turned into despair. Their daughter Braccha had been abducted and the ones guilty for this crime could not be found. Together Lilith and Caine left Enoch, searching for their missing child, but it proved fruitless. So, they parted in hopes of raising their chances in finding her.

Again decades passed, maybe even centuries. But Lilith never stopped searching for Braccha, hastening through deserts, woods and villages, crossing lakes and oceans, feeding at night and never resting until finally a voice commanded her to stop. She came face to face with a young girl she felt an instant connection with. And obviously the girl felt the same. They stared at each other mesmerized, felt the bond between one another and recognized the resemblances in their physics. Especially in their faces, even though the girl was of paler, but still golden-brown skin.

A descendant? Lilith wondered. Braccha's child? My child?

Overcome with joy and exhausted from her long journey at the same time Lilith fell unconscious. The girl came to her aid and with the help of her family she nursed the strange, yet familiar woman back to health. Grateful and happy to have found descendants of hers, Lilith remained in their company. She was told about the girl's ancestresses, the remarkable abilities they shared and the deeds they'd achieved.

It made Lilith think, long and hard. All that came from her line- strangely only girls- could sense and fight Kindred and other creatures of the night- or day- even if victory and defeat were in balance.

But with the right training they'd be the most efficient weapon against evil, against the bastards that took your child, an inner voice whispered.

Relief flooded her. She was one step closer to her goal. She'd sworn to herself to never give up searching for her only daughter's abductors and their progeny, to hunt them and to kill them to avenge her child. Yes, she'd travel the world and teach all her daughters in the fighting techniques she'd learned and on her way she would learn new to form her descendants into successful warriors, to turn them the perfect weapons.

But how could she train all those girls? Even if Braccha had only given birth to one child- which wasn't a sure thing- there would probably be too many of them now out there in the world. She'd never manage to teach them all thoroughly and in time. She needed help. There was no way around it. So, she returned home and talked to her closest confidants: The Nosferatu- which had emerged when she was still human. They agreed to help her for Lilith was the only one- besides Caine- who looked beyond their ugly and repulsive façade and saw their inner beauty.

From this point on the Nosferatu took on the task of guarding, teaching and training the daughters of Lilith in combat. Lilith herself again went her way to find and punish the ones who had taken her child. She was never seen again.

Times changed and it constantly became more difficult for the Nosferatu to get in contact with humans because they were either afraid of those- in their eyes- monster like creatures, didn't trust them, looked at them as they were evil or simply because they envied them for their immortality. Whatever the reason, the Nosferatu decided to leave it to the humans themselves to guide their warriors. They founded the Watcher's Council, a secret organisation which was supervised from the background by the Nosferatu and supplied with knowledge, documents and books to ensure the Slayers- a term introduced by the Council- were thoroughly prepared and supported. Furthermore the Council was required to research on its own, to expand, to build a network of information and- if necessary- ask for the supernatural assistance of the Nosferatu.

Centuries passed until a new wave of changes descended upon the daughters of Lilith. The Watcher's Council became more and more independent, so that the Nosferatu finally withdrew completely and it seemed that the knowledge about the Slayer's heritage slowly vanished with them.

And in spite of their excellent training the Slayers got weaker and weaker, their lifespan shorter and their number smaller. Be it, because they were killed without ever having offspring or because for generations many families of Lilith's bloodline didn't have children with slayer-typical abilities. In the end there was only one slayer. The Chosen One. Only if she died the next one was called and came into her power.

But whatever the reason for those events, the next Slayer would bring another change. That's why Whistler was here. He needed to talk to a friend- the oldest Nosferatu still - more or less- living among humans.

Whistler entered the "Haven". A nightclub as well as a sanctuary and neutral ground for both humans and vampires.

Sorry, Kindred, he corrected himself. He shook his head because he still didn't get why they insisted on being called kindred. They are all bloodsuckers anyway.

He proceeded to climb down the stairs leading to the main room of the club. It was dim, but not smoky.

Thank The Powers That Be.

Looking around he spotted a stage and a live band playing, a lightly crowded dance floor surrounded by tables with chairs, as well as booths and a bar. He smiled, walked over and ordered a Whiskey. Then he turned around, facing the stage and listening to the soft sounds of the music and the smooth voice of the female singer.

Soft music, smooth voice, again with the cliché, buddy!


Daedalus was on the second level of the Haven in the office, hidden behind a darkened pane of glass, but able to look through and down into the main room. While enjoying the music his gaze roamed over the guests. Lily- a pale-skinned beauty with blue eyes and dark hair that barely reached her shoulders - stood next to him. She was the owner of the club and a friend. That immediately became worried when she felt him stiffen. She followed her friend's gaze until it came to rest upon a demon she'd never seen before in her club.

"You know him?" She asked quietly, but still forceful enough to coax an answer out of him.

Daedalus furrowed his nonexistent brow, nodded and finally looked at her. She'd known him long enough to understand the meaning in his look. So, she walked down the steps to the main room, talked to Whistler and led him behind the stage to a private room, where Daedalus awaited him.

"Long time no see." Whistler greeted.

Daedalus nodded. "What brings you here?"

"The future, my friend." He answered in riddles. But this was his curse after all.

"Not here." Daedalus explained and opened a secret door. Then he led his visitor through a long tunnel into his shelter- a homey-looking dungeon. He signalled Whistler to sit down in one of his armchairs before he himself took a seat and looked expectantly at his guest.

"It's about time the Nosferatu return to their roots."

"You mean to protect and guide the Slayer?"

"I see, you still understand me, Daedalus."

"Why me?"

"The next Slayer will be called soon." Whistler announced. "We have to bring her and the End Of Days together."

"Is it time already?"

"We have to prepare."

"Mmh, and you need me to make sure she survives until then?"

"Until she's strong enough, yes."

"I'm needed here, Whistler." He could hear the sadness in his voice. "You have to find someone else."

Whistler shook his head and both remained silent for a while.

Daedalus was the first to speak again. "What about the vampire with a soul?" He didn't use the vampire's name for he didn't know if Whistler was familiar with it.

Whistler lifted his eyebrows. "Angelus?"

"Yes", Daedalus confirmed. "He's supposed to play an important role at the End Of Days and the question was- and as far as I know still is- which side he will be on?"

This time Whistler nodded. "He's living on the streets. Not very helpful if you ask me."

Daedalus smiled in understanding. "He lost his faith in humankind. We're running risk of losing him." He realized. "Why not bring him to the Slayer? After all he's supposed to fight at her side."

"You are wise, my friend. But is he ready?"

"He's been ready for centuries. Tell him about the slayer and her place in the big picture."


Part 1 Los Angeles 1999

He woke up late. Well, considering that he spent yesterday afternoon and evening repeatedly making love to Buffy- his ravenous slayer - and then fighting a Mohra- demon, it was still early in his eyes. After all he'd just turned human and he still needed to get used to it. Especially fighting without supernatural powers and the resulting injuries. Some parts of his body still hurt like hell and it would surely take some time before he was fully healed.

But as long as Buffy was by his side he would gladly pay that price. Unfortunately, that meant there had been no lovemaking after the fight because he needed rest. He had pouted and Buffy had replied with a giggle, insisting that he needed to sleep. Which he knew was probably for the best, and granted sleep had helped a little, but he still regretted not having been buried inside her to soothe the pain. But hey, there was enough time for that later. He grinned, already planning on how he could get back at her.

The possibilities!

And she'd love each and every one of them.

"I love you", he whispered into her hair.

"Love you, too." So she was awake after all.

He looked down at the blond bundle laying half on top of him, her head nestled between his neck and shoulder, her body almost blanketed his entire torso and her legs were intertwined with his. He inhaled her scent and sighed contentedly. He was human now, he could finally give her everything he always wanted her to have.

'The end of days has begun and can't be stopped.' The Mohra- demon's words invaded his mind, but Angel shut them off quickly. How could he think about something so horrible when the most beautiful woman in the world was lying in his arms?!

His stomach rumbled. Well, this wasn't the answer he expected, but it reminded him that it had been hours since he'd last eaten and if he wanted to keep up with Buffy he needed to nourish.

"I didn't wear you out, did I?" Buffy looked sheepishly into his eyes, knowing full well how challenging her slayer stamina was.

He smiled. "I wouldn't trade it for the world."

She smiled in return and kissed him lightly on the lips. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear."

His stomach rumbled again. "Let me take a shower and get some breakfast, ok?"

"But, don't take too long, please?"

"Never." He said, kissed her on the forehead and got up.


Angel entered his kitchen with coffee and a box of donuts with different flavors. Being human for only one day, he didn't know where to get proper breakfast. Apart from that, his fridge had been empty and Cordelia had always been the one to fill it up. He shrugged his shoulders and realized that the table was still broken. He wondered where they were going to have breakfast now. Granted, it was already lunchtime, but… The murmuring of the shower invaded his senses, calling him to join her. He smiled, imagining Buffy naked under the spray, her body engulfed by hot steam, drops of water trailing down her body and his hands gliding over each and every part of her skin, arousing her, arousing him, then sliding his fingers in and out of her tight heat, making her come. He licked his lips, heading for the bathroom.

'The end of days has begun and can't be stopped.'

Thanks to the Mohra-demon his erection was gone in an instant. Damn it! Evil really knew how to kill the mood.

Angel's expression darkened. Nothing was more tempting now than to follow her into the shower, but he couldn't. He wouldn't. Because he needed to know what it meant. He needed to know if Buffy was safe.

As long as he was human he couldn't protect her and he still believed this was the reason he'd been brought into this world. And he'd sworn to himself to never disappoint her, whatever the cost.

The past night had proved how unable he was to fight and protect her. He wasn't a warrior anymore and he felt less worthy of her now than in his vampire nights. It didn't make sense, he knew. But as a vampire he, at least, been able to protect her from harm.

But not from yourself, he reminded himself.

The beast within him had screamed for her, begging him to take her, to make her like him, a creature of the night.

The sound of the water stopping snapped him out of his thoughts. He stared at the bathroom door. Spellbound. He desperately longed to go in there, to take her into his arms, to make love to her once again and never let her go. Gods, it was heaven on earth to be with her, to feel her. He finally felt free.

And the price will probably be her life.

He couldn't' risk that. He needed to see the Oracles. He needed them to make it right. And he needed to go there now. Before she could stop him. The moment he stepped out of his place he new she'd be damn angry that he'd make another decision regarding her life without her. But he just couldn't help himself. All he ever wanted was to keep her safe and protected, and he couldn't do that as a human.


After Buffy had dried herself off, she wrapped one of Angel's fluffy towels around her body and left the bathroom. With a smile gracing her lips, she followed the aroma of fresh coffee.

So, Angel's finally back.

She longed for another good-morning kiss. But when she entered the kitchen, she was deeply disappointed. No Angel, just two tubs and a box. Worried, she called out his name. But he didn't reply. She searched his whole apartment. Still no Angel. Not even a message where he had gone.

A cold shiver ran down her spine. Angel had disappeared.

Oh my God! Angelus!

He's human now, Buffy!

She breathed out a sigh of relief, then furrowed her brows. What had driven him out of her arms then?

Oh, oh, this is not good. Not good at all.

She rushed back into the bathroom, jumping into her panties, bra and her red, patterned dress, and stormed into Angel's office. Still no Angel. Only Cordelia and Doyle.

"Where is he?" She shouted frantically. Her eyes blazed with anger, but still showed she was worried about him. And if none of them would give her an answer soon, tears would join her emotions.

"He went to see the Oracles." Doyle explained.


"Something about more soldiers coming and needing to protect you." Cordelia rolled her eyes. "As if this is anything new."

"Take me to him!" She demanded. The look in her eyes leaving no room for discussion.

"We need a gift." He cleared up.

"I want to talk to Angel, not the Oracles!" She snapped angrily and dragged him out in a hurry, fearing that Angel was about to do something stupid.


"Finally." The male Oracle greeted. Angel just gave him a puzzled look.

"What have you brought me?" The woman distracted him.

"Famille Rose vase." He said and threw it to her. "Ching Dynastie. Circa 1811."

Looking more closely at the gift she praised it: "Lovely."

Her male counterpart wasn't blinded by it and came directly to the point. "Why are you here, lower being?"

"The Mohra-demon said the end of days had begun. That others were coming, soldiers of darkness. I need to know if he was telling the truth."

"As far as such things can be told."

"What happens to the slayer when these soldiers come?" Angel kept on asking.

"What happens to all mortal beings. Albeit sooner in her case." The woman answered.

"She'll die?" Angel asked in disbelief. He didn't even have to think about what he was going to say next. He just blurted it out. "Then I'm here to beg for her life." He pleaded. "Take mine back."

The Oracles looked at him curiously.

"Look, I can't protect her anymore this way, not as a man."

The female eyed him gravely and walked towards him. The man however looked expectantly at the wall behind Angel. Again the gate was illuminated by a white light and released Buffy.

"You're asking to be what you were, a demon with a soul because of the slayer?" The woman wanted to know.

"Angel? What?…" Buffy trailed off. She was confused. After all that had happened he didn't want to be human anymore?

He turned around. Surprise written all over his face. "Buffy!"

"Why? Don't you love me anymore?" She was deeply hurt and shied away when he came closer to her.

"More than ever." He admitted.

She sighed contentedly. But then she knitted her brows. "But why do you want to give everything up?"

"If I stayed mortal, one of us would wind up dead, maybe both of us. You heard what the Mohra said."

"He's dead. We killed it." She reminded him.

"He said others would come." He countered.

"They always come, they always will. But that's my problem now, not yours."

"No, I won't just stand by and let you fight, maybe die, alone." He cried desperately.

"Then we fight together!"

"You saw what happened last night. If anything I'm a liability to you. You take chances to protect me, and that's not just bad for you…" He tried to explain but she cut him off.

"But isn't that what love's all about? To worry? To look after someone? To protect each other? To fight for one another?" She argued.

"How can we be together, if the cost is your life?"

"Everybody dies some time, Angel" she snapped and put her hands on her hips.

"Buffy, it's not some time in your case. It's soon." He dropped the bomb and hoped he could make her understand.

"Then let's seize what time I have left!" She pleaded.

"Buffy, you know that won't work. What about the people we're destined to help?" He drew a deep breath. "I am human. I can't protect you and them anymore!"

"We'll find a way!" She replied desperately.

"Buffy, please?" He beseeched her to let him continue, as well as letting him have his way. "It may look like I've atoned for my sins. But that's not it. The time hasn't come, yet."

"Well, about time he comes to his senses." The man said to his companion, not caring if the slayer and her lover heard him.

"He is right, slayer." The female addressed Buffy. "It wasn't meant to be. He wasn't meant to be human. He is too important a warrior."

Outraged Buffy wanted to give them a piece of her mind, but was stopped by Angel who pulled her into his embrace.

"There's no other way to protect you than become what I was." He said. "Please, let me do this? I want to see you live."

She leaned heavily against him. "I love you." She sobbed, saying thank you as well as assuring him of her understanding and support.

He rocked her comfortingly, kissed the crown of her head and together they turned to face the Oracles, holding their hands.

"What do I have to do?" Angel asked.

"We will turn you into a vampire again." Then she looked at Buffy. "And you, slayer, will be the instrument. Only if your love is pure, will he rise again. Can you take this responsibility?"


Part 2 "There's no other way to protect you than become what I was." He said. "Please, let me do this? I want to see you live."

She leaned heavily against him. "I love you." She sobbed, saying thank you as well as assuring him of her understanding and support.

He rocked her comfortingly, kissed the crown of her head and together they turned to face the Oracles, holding their hands.

"What do I have to do?" Angel asked.

"We will turn you into a vampire again." Then she looked at Buffy. "And you, slayer, will be the instrument. Only if your love is pure, will he rise again. Can you take this responsibility?" *** Buffy and Angel didn't even need to turn their heads to assure the other of their trust in this matter. They just gave their consent with a synchronous nod. Thereupon the male Oracle raised his arm, drawing a horizontal, invisible line in the air. Seconds later an altar appeared in the middle of the room.

"Lay down." He ordered Angel.

"Just a minute, please?" Buffy interrupted.


Buffy led Angel away, so she could talk to him in private. "What about us?"

Ashamed he looked down and then back into her eyes. He was going to break her heart again.

"Buffy, I am so sorry."

"You'll leave me again?"

"I have to."


"You should have a normal life."

"We had this conversation before, Angel. And you know what? I followed your wish. I got involved with another man." She replied harshly.

A shadow flared up in his face, but immediately he had himself under control once more. Did he really believe she hadn't seen this small evidence that it had gotten to him? Fool! She knew all his moves and their meaning. She could detect any change- however small- in him, even if he tried to hide it. She could tell by the look in his eyes how much it hurt him to hear her talk about other lovers. And now she would hurt him some more. She didn't want to. But damn, she had to. How else could she convince him to stay with her?

"He was nice and friendly… till he had what he wanted."

What kind of idiot let an incredible woman like Buffy go? Angel asked himself. Apart from the idiot standing in front of her right now.

But he had his reasons. He looked at her sadly, but she continued unimpressed. Mercilessly.

"He used me." She said bitterly. "He slept with me, turned into an asshole and left me."

Now, now! she admonished herself. That's not the whole truth, Buffy!

Hey, I apologized more than enough for this slight mishap!

A slight mishap, Buffy? You lost control! You hurt him!

So what? Does it still matter?


Because this wasn't about Parker. It was about Angel and her. And judging by his expression he would counter with something like 'He wasn't the right one for you' or 'There are others'. Problem was, she wanted no other than Angel. And she certainly didn't want to listen to any of this. "How often do I have to go through this? Tell me, Angel, how often?"

He swallowed because he knew exactly what she was referring to. He had done this to her, too. She'd given herself to him on her 17th birthday and as Angelus he'd turned this act of love into something trivial. Oh, his usual explanations wouldn't get him far. He wouldn't get away so easily this time. And he was right.

"You're willing to give up all your happiness for me. Now, let me do the same for you. I love you and no one else. Come back to me! I have the memories of this wonderful day we spent together. I don't need more than you can give."

"I can't… I… "Then he corrected himself to show the difference between the beast within and him. "My soul has never tasted human blood. Until the day I tasted yours."

She furrowed her brows. What was he getting at?

"Oh God, Buffy, if you only knew! It tastes like the smell of your hair, the softness of your skin. It's so sweet like your laughter and salty like your tears. It tastes like your lithe body, like your love and your power. Not even Angelus has ever had anything better." He admitted.

Buffy was speechless, awed by the beauty of his words. Granted, the Angelus part wasn't that pleasant, but she was nonetheless moved by the way he expressed his love for her. Yes, this was the man she'd never fall out of love with.

She lovingly caressed his cheek. But suddenly he took hold of her wrist, stopping her motions.

"When you lay beneath me, the taste of your arousal on my tongue, I wanted to drag you to my bed, rip off your clothes and bury myself inside you." His look became smouldering and she blushed lightly. "For the rest of eternity." He shook his head to shake off the images of her underneath him, in the throes of ecstasy, calling out his name.

Guessing, where his thoughts had turned, she blushed even more.

"I did not only want your body and soul, Buffy. I wanted your blood… Again and again. I can't get it out off my mind."

Desire, wild and demanding, flared up in his eyes, pulling her in, making her body respond, even though he hadn't touched her in any kind of sensual way. Heartbeat increasing, she breathed faster, felt hot all over as her knees got weak and the first stirrings of her need for him overtook her body, leaving wetness pooling between her thighs. Could he smell how ready she was now that he was human?

"If I asked you, would you let me taste you again?" he asked quietly.

Oh my God! Why does he have to ask this?!

Until now she'd successfully suppressed that little blood feast. Also the fact that she'd more than enjoyed it. It had made her crazy with want. Where the Master's bite had been paralysing, painful and frightening, Angel's bite, no kiss, had proved everything wrong she learned about it. Furthermore it had revealed so much more about herself. Overwhelmed by the memories of this particular night she closed her eyes.

//She felt his lips against her neck, hesitating, and then his cold tongue, licking, followed by light suckling that promised so much more. She knew it would happen soon and she awaited this moment in fear and anticipation. And then… his fangs that penetrated her flesh. Surprised she gasped for air. Not because the bite hurt! No, it was the way he held her, pressed her to him possessively, clung to her because she was his life.

A thought the slayer in her loathed. She tried to fight against the vampire feeding of her, but the woman, she shared a body with, was stronger. She loved the beast who gorged on her blood and moaned loudly in approval, taken in by ecstasy.

Pain paired with pleasure. A feast for all senses, she mused, realizing she loved the mixture.

But the slayer felt betrayed and humiliated because she was being taken by a demon. Willingly. The woman didn't care. She gave herself to the soul inside the vampire, revealed her heart to him and unknowingly strengthened the bond they already shared.

And for the first time Buffy- the complexity of woman and slayer- understood what it was like to share your body with a demon. Difference was her demon was not of supernatural kind. No, it was the woman inside who could only get her lover this way and didn't give a damn about it.

Because she loved it. Never before she'd experienced something comparable.

It was another form of union. Totally different from lovemaking, but just as spiritual. She felt herself in him, in the strength that slowly returned to him, pressed her even tighter to him.

And the slayer felt it, too. SHE was the one giving him the strength! HER slayer blood would save him. It would always be inside him. She would always be a part of him. Then realization hit. He was binding himself to her. Willingly! He! Her sworn enemy!

She was awestruck by his honor, bathing in the feeling of being cherished that she momentarily forgot that her life was at stake if he took too much blood.

Luckily, the woman remembered. She knew she wouldn't endure it much longer. She needed to tell him. Now.

"Aaa.." Buffy uttered, unable to get anything else out.

Great, Buffy! Do you really think you can stop him with your moans?

But was just one minute more when she enjoyed the way he pressed against her? His hardness so close to her center, mirroring her own desire? Damn, she wanted to feel him inside her! Filling her. Stretching her.

Damn moment of perfect happiness!

That thought brought her and the slayer back into reality. Angel had to stop drinking! She grabbed his hips, trying to lift his weight of her, so she could roll away. He followed her wordless demand, but her own traitorous body arched against him in excitement, wanting to get into contact once more. He pressed her down again and she didn't even realize that she destroyed the table as she came with a quiet moan.

Disappointed that she didn't have the strength anymore to say her lover's name, she lost consciousness. But the slayer was still aware of him, felt the final, rough lick sliding across her wounded skin. She froze, knowing full well what he had done. She couldn't believe it. Although her instincts were telling her otherwise.

With this final gesture he had made sure this union would leave a scar. Or mark- as they called it in vampire society- his way of protecting her, showing her that he still cared and still loved her. It was a warning to all other vampires that she was already taken or powerful enough to survive a deadly embrace.

Thinking about what he had started on the woman's 17th birthday by taking her as his wife- exchanging vows of love, rings and bodily fluids- and completed right now by taking her blood and marking her, there was no doubt in the slayer's eyes what it meant. He'd chosen her as his consort. She felt utterly loved. And loved him for it.

Finally, there was something the slayer and the woman shared. Their love for the vampire with a soul. It was the first step in the fusion of slayer and woman. But with it the problems started. Since the slayer couldn't communicate through words, she'd tried to tell the woman with feelings what this mark meant and that she couldn't let him go because consorts belonged together. But the woman, not well attuned to her slayer side, didn't understand it, denied the hunger that had built in her since he'd left her.

And now, that the woman recalled this memory the slayer hoped she'd finally understand what she'd been trying to tell her for months. But she didn't, only recognized their mutual love for Angel.//

"Buffy?" His smooth voice invaded both of their thoughts.

She opened her eyes and saw his questioning gaze. "What?"

"Would you let me taste you again?" He repeated.

Damn it yes!

How could she deny him his wish when she longed for it just as much? She wanted to scream yes, but he put his finger on her lips.

"Do you understand now why I can't stay with you?"

Still lost in her memories she couldn't help but think: Huh?

It must have shown in her expression because he was talking once more.

"Buffy, your blood calls to me, urges me to do things I shouldn't do. I can't stop wanting it." He sighed. "And you can't either. You don't want to and I can't deny you."


Now, she did understand what he was trying to tell her. If they lost control in this situation, she'd be dead soon. Or Angelus would be on the loose again.

Damn! Life sucks!

They could have had everything they had ever dreamed of. And he'd give it all up to saver he life! For this one perfect day and all the happiness he'd given her, she'd love him forever, always remember he'd been human. She snuggled into his chest and he embraced her tenderly.

"I felt your heart beat." She whispered and started to sob anew because she would take it from him.

Welcome life full of remorse! she thought bitterly.

"I'm so sorry, Angel. I wish we could…" She trailed off and cried.

"Shh, I know. It's ok. You'll live."

And in my mind I play the time with you like a record on repeat. Hey, loony bin here I come!!! Is there still room? I have many interesting things to tell!

She looked back up at him. "How can I go on without you at my side? Knowing what we shared?" She cried desperately, seeing the tears forming in his eyes.

The female Oracle stepped closer, interrupting them. "You're not going to remember. Only he. That's the condition."

"Oh my God… Angel!" She hugged him even tighter, almost bruising him.

"Shhh, don't worry about me." He cried.

"But…" She paused to find her voice again. "But I don't want to forget!"

"You will!" The woman said.

"No! I'll never forget. I'll never forget. I'll never forget. I'll never forget." She promised.

"Shh, Buffy, please, shh." He tried to console her, but she wouldn't calm down.

"I'll never forget. I'll never forget."

He kissed her, letting her feel all his love while he held onto her for dear life.

"You're going to be rewarded for your loss." The male Oracle revealed then, but gave no further information. "It's time for the ritual."


Part 3 "It is done." The male Oracle said and turned to Angel. "The end of days has begun. If you save mankind, you will be released from our service and become what you once were."

"Human?" Angel wanted to know.

He nodded.

Angel looked happily at Buffy and she smiled. "I'll be waiting for you." She embraced him.

But Angel shook his head. "I want you to have a normal life."

"You have to go." The woman ordered her.

"I'll never forget." Buffy promised once more and kissed Angel good-bye. When she pulled away she cried again. But this time there were tears of joy, too. "I love you."

Angel kissed her forehead. "I love you."

"Always." Buffy countered and left.

*** Buffy sat in the bus leaving for Sunnydale and looked out the window, lost in her thoughts. Again tears sprung to her eyes. Soon everything would be forgotten. His warmth, his kisses, his heartbeat and the fact that he'd given his life for her.


She didn't want to be robbed of these precious moments, which had made her happier than ever before. She had to remember, no matter what the Oracles had said. If he was damned to suffer the memories, she wanted to carry a part of his burden. She owned him that much. Her will had often moved mountains. Would she find a way to defy destiny this time, too? She had to believe.

"I'll never forget." She promised the world and started to repeat it like a mantra. But soon her whispers died and her mind drifted off to sleep, she needed so urgently after all these events. *** When she woke up she was already in Sunnydale. She didn't bring her bag to the dorm. No, she immediately went to see Giles.

"Buffy." He greeted her and motioned her in with a nod of his head. "You're back."

"Yep, just arrived." She smiled and dumped her bag next to the door to emphasize her point.

"I see." He closed the door behind her and followed her back into the room.

"We've to talk." She explained, scanning his living room.

Giles annoying guest was still- or again- here, lounging on the couch and nipping at a cup of blood.

"Spike!" She said and it almost sounded like a hiss.

"Slayer!" He shot back.

Her eyes narrowed to slits, regarding him with predatory interest, waiting for him to make the wrong move. She still didn't know what to think of him. Sure, the chip seemed to work. But why had he come to them? Couldn't he find his blood and shelter elsewhere?

"What are you still doing here?"

"Hey, you're the one helping vampires in need." He defended himself.

"It was one vampire and he has a soul!" She corrected him coolly.

Spike smirked.

Sweet, innocent Buffy, he thought.

There was still so much she didn't know about vampires. Being one didn't necessarily equal being soulless. Many vampires still had their souls. It was just a matter of who was in control. The soul or the beast.

He grinned. "Just because you have a soul doesn't make you good."

"Whatever." She waved her hand in a dismissing gesture and walked past him to take a seat in the armchair at the end of the coffee table.

That's when it hit him, making him forget everything around him, making him loose his mind. Or was it his control? He closed his eyes, trying to calm down. But the sweet, alluring scent coming off Buffy was driving him crazy, making him high, beckoning him to swear off blood and to live on nothing else but this: a mix of pure femininity, physical strength and danger.

He'd known it a long time. Yet, it was different now. And it was not her perfume. Although he still could smell it underneath. No, there was more. A secret surrounded her and he desperately needed to unveil it. So he could bathe in it.

Oh God! This smell!

Both innocent and experienced. And something else that wakened his desire.



He was helpless. Under her spell and he couldn't do a damn thing about it. Why would he even want to? This was heaven. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the way the smell spread through his body, bewitching his senses, arousing him... Oh, he wanted to be the one to feast on this perfect scent, close and personal. He wanted to take her away, so no one but him could savour it, could savour her on a bed of fine silk while making love.

Making love???

He was definitely screwed. She was the slayer. He was a vampire. There'd never be making love. Hell, there'd never be love between them. And his name had never been William.

Bloody hell!

It hit him like a ton of bricks. She smelled like sex and his Sire. He jumped off the couch and stared at her. Unbelieving.

"Bloody hell, slayer! You shagged the poof!" He blurted out.

She turned to him, her eyes shooting daggers.

How dare he!

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I can smell him all over you!" He accused.

She flew across the room, grabbing him by the collar of his red button down shirt. "Again, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Are you kidding me? I can smell him and your completion!"

"I didn't sleep with Angel!" She shouted and slapped him across the face. "Stop your stupid game!"

"This is no game. I hate Angelus, the loony, as much as you do!" He raged, then he continued quietly. "I love this world, you know." And he really didn't want a rerun of his insane Sire trying to destroy the world.

She softened a little at his heartfelt confession. "I didn't sleep with him." She assured.

Giles watched the exchange with interest. He believed Buffy, but he still wondered what Spike was up to.

"And what do you think this is, slayer?" He pointed at his crotch, his erection straining against the fabric clearly visible. "Do you think this came out of nowhere? It's your smell, slayer!"

She looked down and blushed. Then settled her gaze behind him. It was just plain humiliating that she could arouse Spike of all people.


She briefly wondered why Giles didn't say anything. Of course, she didn't know that Giles knew how easily a slayer's scent could affect vampires.

To him the reason of Spike's discomfort was obvious.

"Buffy." Giles began. "You have to tell us what happened."

She sighed heavily and turned around to face her watcher. "I didn't sleep with him. As I said we fought a demon, we landed on top of each other and killed it." Then she blushed deeply. "I get off on it, ok?!"

Spike laughed.

She glared at him, hands resting on her hips. "What is so damn funny?"

"You didn't get off that much before."

She punched him in his face, causing him to stumble backwards and land on the couch. "Pig!" She threw her hands up in frustration. "This… this is just…"

"A natural reaction, Buffy." Giles interrupted her.

She whirled around. "What?"

Spike chuckled and relaxed into the cushions to enjoy the show. Giles took of his glasses and cleaned them with his handkerchief.

"You are the slayer, Buffy. Your sole purpose is to kill demons. That's why it satisfies you. Vampires can smell it. They are drawn to you because of it. It's designed to do exactly that. A siren's call for vampires if you will. The scent of sex or your blood is meant to intensify it, even arouse them, so they'd be distracted in a fight, making it easier for you to dispose of them."

"Oh", was she could say. And suddenly a lot of things made much more sense now. No wonder Angel had lost control the first time they'd kissed. And later there'd been times when he couldn't get enough of her. Not to say that he ever grew tired of her. No. Times like these he'd always been hovering about her, kissing and touching like a man starved. Even when they hadn't been together. It had confused her to ends, but still she'd almost never stopped him. He'd always been the one to pull back when they went too far, when his control was close to slipping. But now he couldn't do that anymore. Because of her blood, his need, and hers.

She sighed heavily, returning from the depths of her thoughts to reality, her eyes resting on Giles, then turning to Spike- the closest to Angel she'd get now. His childe. Who had a disturbing look in his eyes.

"Could you stop looking at me like that?"

"Look at you like what, slayer?" He asked, his tone taking on a suggestive quality.

"Not even if you were the last man on earth! So stop staring!" She ordered and faced her watcher again.

"There was something else I needed to tell you, but we were so nicely interrupted. And now I can't even remember. Damn!"

"Apparently, it was not important. Otherwise you wouldn't have forgotten." Giles concluded.

"But it was! That's why I came here first."

"Buffy, you killed the Mohra-demon. We know what it looks like and if we ever come across one again, we know what to do. It saved us a lot of researching, didn't it?"

She smiled. "I guess, you're right. So I'll just get my things back to the dorm."

"You'll check in after patrol?" Giles reminded her.

"Sure." With that she left, once again passing Spike.

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Then moaned quietly when the combined smell of the slayer and his Sire reached his nostrils again. Gods, he wanted to reach out and touch it. Hell, he wanted to be part of it. But he couldn't. He'd never be able to complete Angelus' scent like the slayer did. Together they were a highly potent combination. Heady, alluring and arousing.

Bloody hell, he needed release. Preferably somewhere else than in the watcher's presence. Problem was, it was still day outside and he couldn't get into the sewers from Giles' apartment. Spike groaned in frustration.


Part 4

It was late afternoon when Angel finally returned from the Oracles. He didn't walk through his office. No, he took the sewers. Not only because it was day outside. No, he was deliberately avoiding his friends Doyle and Cordelia, because he really was not in the mood to talk about what had happened.

His shoulders slumped in defeat, he trudged through his… Yeah, what was it? Home? No, never. Not as long as Buffy wasn't by his side. Seeing that he'd just given his life for hers, he'd probably never feel like home ever again. Just a little homey since her scent reigned the air in his apartment as if she was still there. But how long would it last?

He didn't know, just walked into the kitchen to grab some blood and get his strength back. Well, bloodletting with a dagger in your heart, drinking mystical slayer blood and turning into a vampire again, could really take a lot out of you.

But it was nothing compared to the sight that greeted him there: the broken kitchen table. The last reminder that Buffy indeed had been there. He leaned against the wall, sighing heavily. This was bittersweet torture. How much was a man supposed to take? Everything and so much more to keep his love alive. No matter the pain.

Staring at the remains of the broken table, spellbound, he slid down the wall into sitting position, stretched his legs out and rested his arms casually on his lap. He'd never thought when- if ever- he'd make love to Buffy again it would be on a table. He grinned, remembering. Granted, it had been more of a jumping-each-other-kind-of- thing, but with her- no matter where- it would always be making love. Not sex or sleeping with one another. No, it was everything. Love, freedom, contentment, softness, power, devotion, worship, magic… He could find thousands of words, but none would ever provide an equal description for what he experienced in these moments of perfect union, of being one, being complete.

It was painful to remember and not being allowed to feel it again and it was slowly tearing him apart. He'd had a taste of his life as a human with Buffy by his side. It had been everything he'd ever dreamed of: seeing the sun kissing her hair, warming Buffy with his own body heat, enjoying the taste of human food and drinks with her, making love to her without restraints.

He'd finally felt equal and worthy of her. Only to discover that he wasn't at all. She was a warrior, he just human. So, how could he help people, never mind her? What was it worth to be human when she was going to die? She was his life, the reason to go on everyday, to fight no matter how hopeless it seemed and he'd realized, he wasn't done making amends. That's why he'd had them turn him back.

Unfortunately, that had meant leaving her once again. A part of him knew it was the only way. Oh, but the other, more egoistic part couldn't help but mourn the loss of his soulmate and wallow in self-pity. He knew it was pathetic. But he just couldn't bring himself reacting any differently. Perfect happiness was so hard to find. It had taken him almost 270 years!

And he'd to give it up once more. Because of a damn gypsy curse that held his soul prisoner by denying what it wanted most. Because of her blood he was carrying inside himself that constantly urged him to go to her, to reclaim her as his mate, to satisfy her desire and thereby his.

Oh, but he couldn't and it was pure torture. A torture he- in his eyes- more than deserved. And now that he'd drunk from her the second time- Why is it always blood?- he could feel her more clearly inside himself. Just like the distance to her. And it damn hurt. More than ever.

It wasn't about their connected souls anymore. No, he was well on the way to performing the Blood Oath, the strongest and most potent bond- besides the Consort Bond- between vampires- or rather kindred- that required one vampire receiving the blood of another thrice and with that granting power over himself to the one giving blood and thereby acknowledging him as his master.

Somehow that thought scared Angel. Not that he minded being bound to Buffy. Far from it, because one way or another their souls were already bound. But damn she wasn't a vampire. She was human! But who was he kidding!? Buffy wasn't completely human. He'd tasted it in her blood, oh so familiar, yet not vampire, nor human. A combination of both? He wasn't sure. He only knew he'd never tasted anything as delicious and mind numbing as her.

Whatever Buffy was, the Blood Oath seemed to have the same effects on him as if he'd be performing it with a vampire. And this both scared and amazed him. But it also made the gypsy curse much more dangerous.

That it always comes down to that!?

He believed it was still there. True, the blood of the Mohra-demon had turned him into a human being again and he had then experienced more than one perfect moment of happiness, but humans had and kept their souls, no matter how black. Except maybe, if there was really a demon or magician who could steal souls.

It was also true that the Oracles had used a different ritual to turn him and bind his soul to his body during the transformation. But the demon was in him once more. And Angel was certain the curse was bound to the beast within him, not his body. So, the curse couldn't have simply died because the demon had been gone. It was an immortal creature after all.

Angel- driven by guilt and convinced he deserved whatever punishment the Powers That Be had planned for him- hadn't even taken into consideration to ask the Orcales if he was still cursed since he'd just begged for Buffy's life.

And if there was the slightest doubt in his mind- which wasn't- that the curse was no longer an issue, he'd never risk testing it. It represented too much danger to Buffy and he'd never let it come this far, because he didn't trust himself in her presence. Not, when her blood drowned all the lies that fell from her lips and revealed what she really wanted.

He knew he'd drink from her again if she stayed with him. And she wouldn't even out put up a fight. Because she enjoyed- loved- it as much as he did. And if they started with blood, making love would follow sooner or later. Most probably sooner.

His soul would be lost once more, leaving Angelus in its place who wouldn't hesitate to take Buffy, turn her and make her his Consort. A fact Angel more than loathed. He had a soul, a conscience. He would never damn her to a life of complete darkness.

But- at any rate- his life was damned whether he was with her or not. As a vampire- driven by desire and the call of her blood- the curse kept them apart and as a mortal human he was more of a liability than big help.

True, Willow and Xander- both human- helped her. But Willow was a witch with a lot of potential and much power within her, even if she didn't know, yet. She could defend herself if necessary, and Xander was often kept out of real danger.

But Angel as Buffy's human lover was the perfect target. Everybody who wanted to weaken or even destroy her just needed to take him and lead her into a trap. And this would never be an option, not as long as Angel was still there.

Damn! Why was it always so complicated between them? Oh, he surely deserved his suffering. Or so he thought. But she didn't. She was a warrior of the light. Why wasn't she allowed to be happy?

Oh, but he assumed, she'd only become happy at his side. What egoistic thought! Where was it written that her soul wasn't the mate of someone else? Who was he to stop her from searching for someone else?

A man who was hopelessly and desperately in love with her. And luckily she wouldn't have it any other way. She'd have given the last remnant of normality to keep him with her and he loved her even more for it. But- there it was once again- the gypsy curse… It was unbelievable how something so small could affect two lives so dramatically.

Damn, if he hadn't drunk from her, he would have had enough control to be able to stay with her, instead of reacting to her blood. But who was he kidding? He'd always crave her, always lose control around her.

*** Willow was walking down the main road with two new books about witchcraft in her arms when she spotted Buff talking to Riley in front of the coffee shop. Smiling, she thought that maybe Riley was the distraction Buffy needed right now. After all she'd just returned from L.A., from Angel.

Although Buffy was one day late, Willow seriously wondered whether asking her about it was a good idea or not. After all Buffy had taken off Friday morning promising to be back in the evening. At the latest. Now it was already Saturday evening. She shook her head. There'd probably just been some demons keeping Angel and Buffy busy. No need to worry.

And exactly that was written all over Buffy's face when Willow joined them finally.

"Hi, Buffy." She hugged her best friend and then turned to the tall T.A. "Hey, Riley."

He greeted her back and asked politely how she was doing. Willow smiled broadly in response. "Great."

Buffy noticed the happy glow surrounding the witch and she wondered what had happened, since Willow had still been mopey all week because of Oz' sudden departure. Deciding to find out, Buffy linked her arms with her, ready to leave.

"So, if you excuse us now, Riley, we girls have some catching up to do." She said.

Willow got the hint and said goodbye, too.

"See you on Monday." Riley said and watched them leave.

*** "So, ice- cream and a chick flick?"

"Nope." Buffy said grinning. "Actually patrol and girl talk."

They headed for the next cemetery. Curiosity got the better of Willow, so she simply asked: "And?"

Buffy smiled. "And what?"

The redhead rolled her eyes. "Duh! L.A. and Riley!" Then she quieted down a little. "Unless you don't want to talk about L.A. and…" she stopped herself, knowing Angel had lately been- well, actually since he'd left- a delicate subject in Buffy's presence.


Willow nodded.

"You can say his name, Will. It doesn't hurt that much anymore. But it doesn't mean I don't miss him. I do. Because more than ever I know how much I love him. How much he is a part of me. I can't let go and I really don't want to. Although I know we can't be together because of what he is." She sighed heavily.

"It seems Angel and Oz have a lot more in common than we thought." Willow giggled.

"I guess, you're right."

"Buffy, maybe a little distance between you two is exactly what you need. It gives you time to grow, to gain new experiences." Then she grinned and cocked an eyebrow. "To get to know other people?"

"What do you mean?" Buffy asked confused.


"Oh." She had already forgotten she talked to him minutes ago.

"I thought you liked him?"

"I do. It's just I don't see myself dating him or even falling in love with him. Or anyone else for that matter. I'm not over Angel. I'll probably never be."

"Buffy, you can't waste your life waiting for the curse to disappear and Angel to return. It might never happen. He's a vampire. He's cursed. And you told me yourself he's been searching for a cure since he returned from hell, but he never found anything."

Buffy shook her head forcefully. "You don't understand, Willow. He's the other part of me. I can't let him go. Even if he's two hours away. We're connected. I can feel him, not right now, but whenever he's near. Like Thanksgiving. And when he's away I feel like something is missing. I don't feel complete."

"Oh, Buffy." The witch exclaimed, let her books fall and took her friend into a tight embrace. "I didn't know you felt this way."

"Because I never told you and because I didn't know myself. Oh god, now I'm ruining your good mood with my depressing love life. Or lack thereof. So tell me who put that smile on your face?"

They released each other and gathered her books.

"The Magic Box has a new owner. She's not much older than us. Her name is Tara. And she's a witch." Willow beamed.

If Buffy didn't know it better, she'd say Willow was head over heals for this woman.

"We did some minor spells together. Goddess, she's really powerful."

"But you´re careful, right?" Buffy asked concerned.

"Yep, no dangerous spells for me. Got it. And I don't think she's into to that. She's just too sweet and nice."

Buffy really hoped it wasn't just a façade. She didn't want to see her friend getting hurt again so soon.

"I think I can learn a lot from her. Maybe we even find a cure for Angel?"

"Gods, that'd great. You know how much this means to me."


Part 5 AN: I swear when I started writing this part there was plot in there. Somewhere. But now it's gone! *shrug* I guess that happens when you send your muse to Angelus, asking her to come back with inspiration for "City of Angelus 3".

Dedicated to: Sarah- you're a real honey. Jule- I'm so happy to finally see you again tomorrow. The pack and all my faithful readers. Thank you so much for the reviews/ feedback. You guys make me really happy.

Anyway… on to the smut.


It was already evening and Angel was still beat and tired. He should have gone to bed hours ago, but some masochistic part of him wanted to keep looking at the broken kitchen table and replay their lovemaking over and over again in his head. The memories just wouldn't let him rest. And Buffy wouldn't either.

Because suddenly he could feel her, running fast on an adrenaline high, breathing hard, power surging through her veins like fire, driving her. Highly tensed, aroused by strength and power, chasing on instinct and lost in frenzy, the slayer was free and uncontrolled. But Buffy was still deeply focused. On her prey, a vampire reeking of fear.

And she loved the scent. Angel could almost taste it. Oh, how he longed to join her, run along side her, track down the prey and watch her kill it without mercy. Oh, she was glorious when victorious. The epitome of a warrior goddess. Power and beauty combined in a perfect, dangerous creature of light and destruction. Buffy Summers- the Vampire Slayer.

Gods, how he loved his tiny blond goddess, how much, he wanted to be with her.

He knew he couldn't physically, but at least he could use the bond they shared and drive into the depths of his being- his blood mixed with hers- to seek out her essence, to seek out her emotions and feel the satisfaction as she killed her prey. He swallowed hard. Damn, he almost came from only feeling her. Almost. Because the link was severed just as sudden as it had bloomed, leaving him with a painful hard on.

He definitely needed a cold shower. And it helped. At least until he lay down in his bed, burying his head in the sheets and her scent- or more precisely the combined scent of her and his lovemaking- hit his nostrils.

Damn vamp senses! He cursed silently as his hard again member strained against the mattress.

Groaning he rolled onto his back, closed his eyes and breathed in deeply: vanilla, sunshine, peaches, arousal and completion. Her smell was so overwhelming he moaned loudly and grabbed his cock. He started to stroke up and down in a leisurely pace as his mind drifted back to the bathroom, to what they had done in there.

//Both shoeless and standing face to face, he realized for the first time how small she really was. The top of her head barely reached his shoulders. So petite and yet so strong. Not to mention naked. He was in awe and took a step back to admire her. She smiled at him and he saw her lips moving, but he really couldn't make out all, except the last word.

"Shirt?" He asked confused, captured by the sight of her small, creamy breasts. She crossed her arms in front of them to get him to look at her and answer her question. But it didn't help. His gaze wandered down to the dark honey- colored curls hiding her femininity. Amused she let her arms fall to her sides and walked closer to him. That finally got his attention. She reached out for the buttons of his shirt and opened them painfully slowly. He waited, curiously watching her every move now and didn't even dare to interrupt her exploration with the tiniest move. He almost forget to breathe and her hands went lower… and lower… and lower… and brushed- not so- accidentally his shaft, causing him to stir. He moaned again and she smiled devilishly.

"You like that?"

"Yesss." He replied, eager for more.

But her hands slid upwards, purposely grazing his nipples. He shuddered in delight and she continued her way to his shoulders before she pushed the shirt from his frame. She placed her palm flat against his chest, right above his heart, because she wanted to feel in its beat what she did to him, how much she aroused him.

In a blink of an eye her other hand closed around his member. Angel jumped slightly and moaned, surprised and pleased by her sudden move. Locking her eyes with his, she worked him up and down, every now and then brushing the tip of his sex lightly with her thumb.

She heard and felt his heart beat faster with every stroke as the sound of his moans caressed her ears. His whole frame shook so hard from pleasure she was afraid he'd fall down any second now. And the look in his eyes revealed how much he didn't care about that just as long as she kept doing her magic on him. Though his only fear was he wouldn't be able to hold back any longer.

"Buffy!" He whimpered, trying to make her understand that he wanted…

Yeah, what? Come right here then and there? Come inside her? Die on the spot from rapture?

She let go of him and he groaned in frustration. Smiling in understanding, she took his hand and guided him to the toilet where she made him sit down on the closed lid. He was at eye level with her breasts now, but they were still too far away to taste them. So he drew her closer and made her stand between his legs, with his dick pressing against her knees. His mouth closed around one nipple, while one of his hands automatically reached for the other breast, stroking and gently rubbing it. This time it was Buffy's turn to moan helplessly.

She braced her hands on his shoulders and arched into his mouth and touch. She thanked God, Angel was still as orally fixated as a vampire for he was amazing with his tongue. She wondered if there were other vampire traits he'd continue indulging in.

Her question was almost immediately answered as his teeth scraped over her nipple, making her shudder even more. Though his teeth were not as sharp as his fangs she still whimpered his name in need. It urged him on further and he repeated the same process on her other breast.

The hand that was holding her upright left its place on her back to venture downwards over the cheeks of her behind, squeezing them lightly, before he went further down to the back of her knee. He motioned her to bend it, she willingly complied and he draped her leg over his thigh. Realizing what he intended Buffy straddled him. Their sexes touched, but still weren't as joined as they should be. He claimed her mouth again while his hands wandered to her hips. He hoisted her up, positioned her on his shaft and she slowly slid down on him, reveling in the feel of him fitting so perfectly inside her.

Although they had stilled all movements, the sensation of being joined so intimately, made them moan in unison and the echoes of their names vibrated in the caverns of their mouths. She was so incredibly wet, so unbelievable tight and hot, and when she began moving… He got lost. In her, in the feel of her, her warm, little hands on his shoulders, her soft, pillow-like breasts and hard nipples scraping against his chest as she rode him, her silken walls tightening around him, the sweet moan of his name against his ear. Again and again.

And he responded in kind, breathing out her name like a prayer, urging her higher, faster, stronger, tighter. He needed to feel her with all his senses. Smell, look, taste and touch. His hand travelled to her belly and down to the nest of curls. Combing through it, he reached her clit and began caressing it softly. And oh so slowly, just as teasingly as she was moving.

But this time she didn't beg him to stroke her faster. No. He wasn't a vampire with unimaginable control anymore. Now he was just human and she knew how to make him do what she wanted him to. She increased her tempo and he promptly adapted to the new rhythm, getting them both closer to the edge, performing the dance of mating.

"Angel!" She whimpered, signaling she was close to falling into the abyss of release.

He lunged for her throat instinctively, bit down with his human teeth and she shattered around him with a shout, squeezing him so tight he followed her into orgasm, spilling inside her as she was milking him.//

But it was just a memory. In reality he was lying in his bed alone, had spilled his seed into his own hand and his satin blanket. And although he was satisfied for the moment, he groaned in frustration. Nothing compared to Buffy. He wanted her, wanted to drown in her, be buried in her.

He closed his eyes again and brought this memory to live again, so he could pretend he wasn't lonely and aching for her.

//They held each other close, bathing in the haze of afterglow, neither of them could move or talk and they waited for their breathing to even out. His head still buried between her neck and shoulder, he sighed deeply into her hair. This was heaven. She agreed with a sigh of her own and one of her hands wandered into his thick hair at the nape of his neck. The other trailed over his shoulder, then down over his shoulder blades to his tattoo. To him it felt like she traced every line and contour of the griffin-like creature on his back as if she'd painted it herself.//

And the thought of Buffy drawing his tattoo on his back triggered another long lost memory from his human days in the 18th century.

//Being a serious, young man, Liam would have missed much fun and pleasure if it wasn't for his best friend Patrick. A wild, young man filled with crazy ideas and mischievous plans. So it wasn't a surprise that Patrick had managed to convince Liam to go out into the woods with him and secretly watch the Druids- or what was left of them- and the witches celebrate Beltane- the beginning of summer- with fires. It was to remember the return of life and fertility to everything existing in the world.

He'd heard rumors about men and women dancing naked around the fires and he wondered what they would find there. Not that he was complaining about the naked part. He loved sex. Especially with beautiful women and it was said the Druids were exactly that.

Finally they found the Druids and witches in a clearing, far away from town. Some danced around the fires, barely clothed- Liam noticed- while others had taken seats in the grass, paired in little groups or couples, laughing singing, or making out. But none of them captured Liam's gaze like the tiny blonde, standing in front of two white- robed figures with her back to him. He couldn't explain it, but he was drawn to her, drinking in her appearance like a man starving.

To his utter surprise she suddenly turned and looked straight into his eyes, greeting him with a warm smile, before she began walking towards him. He was rooted to the spot, so spellbound by her presence he didn't even notice that two other girls followed her.

It was a shame he couldn't see her clearly when she finally reached him because the fire didn't spend enough light. But he didn't need his sight anyway for she took his face between her hands, making his body tingle all over.

What was that?

She pulled him down to her level and brushed his mouth with hers. He closed is eyes as she nibbled at his lips, coaxing them open so she could deepen the kiss and engage his tongue in erotic play. Lost in the feel of her, he took her into his embrace and then pulled her closer in an desperate attempt to feel every inch of her body pressed against his, to become one with her. He'd never desired a woman like this. It made him breathless, so they broke apart.

"Mo Aingeal." She said, smiling brightly.

"I'm no angel."

She just giggled, took his hand and guided him to the clearing.

Looking at her swaying in front of him, Liam almost forgot he hadn't come here alone. Where was Patrick? Liam spotted him by the fire, a woman on each arm. Since he looked completely happy Liam concentrated on his blonde again. She exchanged nods with the robed figures and he wondered what that was about. But she didn't give him time to think and dragged him away to a path that led back into the woods. He was confused. Why didn't they join the others?

"Where are we going?"

She stopped and turned around, amused. "Are you afraid of me, mo Aingeal?"

"No... I…just…" He broke off, not knowing what he was worried about.

"You went with other women and you never questioned them." She reminded him and she was right.

He'd lain with dozens of girls and women. After all he was a healthy, young male. It was natural- even expected. But he wasn't a selfish bastard in taking them. He always saw to their pleasure, too. They loved him, his gentleness, his caring, the way he balanced giving and taking. But the way she'd said it, made it sound like he used them. Like she didn't approve? This was crazy. He didn't even know her.

But he knew she was different from them all. And he told her so.

"You feel it, don't you?" She asked.

"The connection?" He replied, surprised by his answer.

"Aye, mo Aingeal." She kissed him lightly on the mouth.

"Liam." He corrected.

"Liam." She obeyed. "Mo Aingeal." She giggled and continued walking.

"Aren't you going to tell me your name?"


"It means champion." He mused loudly.

"Yes, it does." She giggled again as they walked into another glade.

There was a campfire in the middle and right behind it a stone altar. A dozen candles were burning on its surface, bathing the glade into a soft glow, making the shadows dance lightly with the warm breeze of the wind.

He had heard that Druids had offered even humans as sacrifices to the Gods in the past, but he knew he had nothing to fear from the girl in front of him. He could feel she meant no harm.

"You're not going to sacrifice me, are you?" He joked.

She laughed and pushed him to the ground. "I'm not a Druid, mo Aingeal." She replied as she followed him down and straddled his waist.

Goddess, she was beautiful in her white, almost see through gown. A round face with sparkling green eyes and rosy cheeks. But what stunned him most were her full, pink lips, solely meant to kiss and worship.

"Then who are you?" Gods, he was intrigued.

"Your past, your present and your future." She said cryptically.

"But I don't even know you. How can…"

She cut him off by plundering his mouth with her tongue, making him forget what he had wanted to say. Not that he minded. He eagerly joined the battle for domination they carried out with their lips and tongues. He buried his hands in her hair and pulled her face closer, deepening the kiss even more.

Still space left to move, she scooted down his body until her crotch rested against his. Then she started grinding against him, creating heated tension and arousal in both their lower regions. His hands wandered down to her hips, grabbed her almost forcefully and pushed her even harder into him.

They broke apart in need of air and she took the chance to rip his shirt open before she bent down. He sucked in a deep breath as her mouth closed around his nipple. She suckled him, then bit lightly and finally alternated between these two movements while her hand scraped and rolled the other nipple between her fingertips. He groaned loudly, but she sat up abruptly.

"Neala?" he asked, confusion written all over his face.

She didn't want to stop now, did she?

And as if she had read his mind, she assured him: "I'm not going anywhere." Then she chuckled. "Well, at least not far."

She slid down his thighs, her hands trailing behind, down his chest and stomach until they came to rest upon the hem of his pants. With what seemed inhuman strength to Liam's eyes she ripped the offending material away and his cock sprang free. She looked at it curiously as if she was seeing something like that for the first time. Liam furrowed in brows about that. Or was he just imagining this?

She didn't give him time to worry for her little hand closed around his aching member and she started stroking him.

"Hard and soft." She murmured in appreciation.

He moaned loudly in response, jerking his hips further into her touch as the first drops of pre-cum appeared on the tip of his shaft. She bent down and pulled the skin covering the head back before she licked the liquid off, looking at him all the while.

He moaned again and his eyes rolled back in his head. The only sign that he was still conscious were his hands tangled in her hair, massaging her scalp lovingly. She beamed because of the power she had over him and she wanted to see what else she could do to him. She swirled her tongue around his member. He bucked up into her and she- growing more confident in her actions- took him into her mouth, sliding down on him slowly, then back up again. She repeated the process, increasing the pace with each move. Since she wasn't able to take all of him in, her little hand stroked the base of his sex, mimicking what her mouth was doing and he crooned his delight.

"Neala…please…I…yesss…you…haveto…" Was all he managed to get out.

She stopped her movements, released him from the confines of her mouth and looked at him.

"What?" She pouted, obviously not pleased he had interrupted her.

But she looked wanton nevertheless. Gorgeous. A goddess.

"I want to be inside you." He moaned as she licked her lips.

She smiled brightly and crawled up his form. Her hand still clasped tightly around his member, she positioned him at her entrance. She was oh so wet and he closed his eyes in anticipation, his hands resting on her hips again, lightly caressing the skin. He heard her inhale deeply and then she pushed herself down.

His eyes flew open in shock and surprise as he broke through her maidenhood. He couldn't believe it. A virgin. A lamb in wolf skin.

Her brows were furrowed. Why he didn't know, but he wanted to help her get accustomed to having him inside her, he wanted to comfort her. His hands traveled up her body.

"Don't move yet." He cautioned. "Wait." He said, capturing her face between them, and pulled her down for a kiss, trying to make her forget her pain.

He caressed her cheeks as he spoke again: "Did it…does it hurt?" He asked worried.

"It did, a little." She confessed. "Now it's just different, strange."

"Are you uncomfortable?"

"No. It's just unfamiliar. You're stretching me so wide, filling me. And it feels so right."

He smiled up at her and pulled her down for another kiss. Lips nibbling, tongues licking and teeth lightly biting, it soon escalated into hungry entwining of moans, mouths, limbs and passion. Desperately seeking friction, she rocked against him and he could feel her hard nipples even through the fabric, scratching against his chest as if they were uncut stones.

But he needed more, needed to slide in and out of her wet heat. He rolled her under him and she cried out his name at the change of angle, his cock hitting a spot inside her she didn't even know existed. He slowly thrust in and out of her, biting his lip so he wouldn't come too soon.

But she was writhing so deliciously beneath him, in helpless abandon, her legs locking around his waist to draw him even closer, deeper into her. He felt his orgasm coming and increased his pace. She mewled in pleasure, rocking with him, pleading him to go faster. He obeyed only too gladly while his hand reached down and between them to manipulate her clit.

"Aingeal!" She screamed, her inner walls rippling around him in ecstasy, gripping him tighter.

"Mo bandia!" He shouted as he spilled into her and he continued thrusting inside to embed his seed as deeply into her womb as possible.

She met his every stroke, clenching and unclenching around him, milking him into the afterglow.

Finally he collapsed onto her, burying his head in her sun kissed hair.

"You're amazing." He panted exhausted.

She had drained him.

"You, too, mo Aingeal." She smiled.

And that's when he realized she was stroking his two vertical scars on the inside of his shoulder blades. No girl or women had ever done this before, never mind in such a reverent way. He felt himself harden again. This wasn't possible, was it?

It was Beltane. Anything was possible. And he was with the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

"Again, please?" She moaned.

He raised his head and looked at her. "Everything you want, Neala."

She smiled and he could already see the ideas coming to life in her mind.//

Angel opened his eyes again. Lying in wet sheets, his hand still wrapped around his now limp shaft, he was satisfied for now. But still aching for Buffy with a desperation that was more painful than burning in the sun. He climbed out of bed and went to take a shower. After he had finished he sat down in his leather armchair to reminisce about days long passed.

//Finally sated after hours of… was it love making? It couldn't be. After all he didn't know her really, so how could he already be in love? But what was it then? He wanted to see her again, because he was more taken with her than any other. He'd been gentler, had taken his time to pleasure and explore every inch of her, had worshipped her body and called her bandia- several times.

Lying on their sides, legs entwined, facing each other and foreheads touching, they were lost in each other's gaze. Her head was supported by his upper arm and her hands rested on his chest while he was caressing her hip with just the tips of his fingers. He was so drowsy, could barely keep open his eyes open.

"Sleep if you want to." She whispered and slipped out of his embrace.

"No, stay." He pleaded, reaching out for her.

"I'm here." She said and kissed his lips.

Then she rolled him onto his stomach and straddled him, her still- or again?- wet sex pressing into his lower back made him moan.

"Shh, relax." She soothed quietly and he felt something thin and soft brushing over the skin of his back.

"What are you doing?" He asked sleepily.


"On my shoulder?"

She giggled. "No, silly."

"What are you drawing?" He asked curiously, not even wondering where she'd found a brush.

"A griffin with an 'A' between his claws."

He had read about this myth: A creature half eagle, half lion and therefore the monarch of sky and land. It represented duality: Good and Evil, and… much more, which he'd forgotten. It didn't really matter now. She had deemed him worthy to bear the symbol of a hero and he was more interested in the letter anyway.

"Why an 'A'?"

"Because you are my Aingeal."

"Hmm." He agreed quietly, caught between slumber and consciousness.

He let her continue, but was jolted out of his dream-like state when she poured cold liquid over his shoulder.

"In this life and any other that follows." She whispered in his ear and kissed the nape of his neck.

He felt his skin burning lightly and the liquid seemed to seep into his flesh.

"What are you doing?" He demanded an answer, trying to get up.

But this tiny, little girl held him down, pressed his arms into the grass to stop his struggling. And he couldn't fight her. This was not possible! But he still couldn't move.

"Neala?" He asked confused, even scared.

"Shh, it's almost over." She tried to soothe him and caressed his shoulder with her cool breath. "Better?"

"Yes." He exhaled in relief.

She stretched out on his back, her naked breasts pressing into his flesh. The hold on his arms loosened and her hands caressed their way down to his fingers so she could entwine them with hers.

"What did you do?"

"I made an everlasting reminder. Now sleep!" She commanded and he promptly lost consciousness.//

Why had he forgotten all that? No, he hadn't. He'd just repressed everything that was connected to Neala. Even though he remembered fondly the beginning of their relation ship: laughter, summer, how she taught him to draw, stolen kisses, falling slowly in love and the pleasure of their bodies becoming one. Then she'd gone away for some time with the promise of her return. And that's when the pain had come, in the form of nightmares. Or visions as he had dubbed them later for they had been too real and detailed to be anything else. He hadn't known then and didn't know now if they had shown him his past or future, too many different settings, but the theme had always been the same. Battlefields soaked with blood, he in the middle of a dozen wars, a sword in each hand dirtied by the creatures he'd killed: Humans, demons, half-breeds, but most terrifying of it all… he had slaughtered angels.

He had thrown up every time a nightmare of this kind had tortured his mind. He couldn't sleep, didn't want to, got drunk until he passed out, until the visions couldn't haunt him anymore. His father had been disgusted with him, his mother disappointed and his little sister had pitied him. They couldn't have understood for they had not seen what he had caused- or would cause- on earth.

He had longed for Neala's comfort, but when she had finally come back seven months later, he had pushed her away, had not wanted to see her again. Ever. Because he had feared he would do something horrifying to her. But he had never told her that.

His thoughts were interrupted when the phone started ringing mercilessly. Damn, why couldn't Cordelia answer it? After all that's what he paid her for! Or was she at another audition? So, why didn't Doyle answer the phone then?

Angel got out of his armchair and climbed up the stairs to the office. Both his employees were not in sight. He called out for them, but got no answer. He furrowed his brows and picked up the receiver.

"Angel Inves…" But he was cut off.

"Angel? We…I…Doyle…is hurt…he's half demon…did you…but he doesn't…" Cordelia sobbed.

Then she was suddenly quiet.


"Angel?" This time it was a male voice, vaguely familiar. "This is Wesley. Wesley Wyndham-Price. We're in a warehouse. We fought Tra-Eklurachans and Doyle was badly injured. He's unconscious right now. I would have taken him to the hospital, but he is a half-breed. Do you know a place where I can take him?"

"Where are you?" Angel asked worried and scared for his friend.

And as soon as he had the address, Angel went down into the sewers to get his car from the underground garage. Fortunately, it didn't take him long to get to is destination.

"Thank God, you're here, Angel." Cordelia exclaimed as she flew into his arms and cried.

"Do you think he'll make it?"

He embraced her, stroking her hair. "He will, but you have to let me go, so I can help him."

"Oh." She said and stepped back, wiping the tears away with the sleeve of her sweater.

Angel kneeled down next to Wesley and looked at Doyle. He was lying on the floor in front of them. Most of his skin and clothes were burned, some of his spikes were missing and he had a rather large flesh wound on his left cheek. Angel felt the tears well up in his eyes. Gods, he should have been with them, not reminiscing about his past.

"His pulse is really weak." Wesley explained.

"Let's hurry." Angel said, lifting his friend from the ground and walking back to his car.

Cordelia followed him in silence and Wesley picked up the gun that had almost killed Doyle before he joined them.

"What happened?" Angel asked when they were on their way.

Looking back up from Doyle's head in her lap, she said: "He had a vision this morning. You were asleep, so we went alone to save some kids from those demons." She sniffed, caressing the hair- or what was left of it- on Doyle's head.

"Where are the kids now?"

"They ran away while we were fighting. Wesley joined us, we did pretty well, but they had this freaky gun and Doyle…"She started crying again.

Wesley handed her a handkerchief and continued explaining: "Doyle took the bullets meant for us. We were able to take them out one by one. I assume it was too much, he suddenly collapsed and then the burns appeared. We killed the remaining Tra-Eklurachans and called you."

"What kind of gun?" Angel, asked, because he knew those demons always used a dagger in combat. Guns simply weren't their style.

"I've never seen it before." Wesley confessed. "This weapon was solely built to harm or kill demons. I got hit by a bullet, but nothing happened to me."

"I don't like it." Angel growled. He couldn't imagine that Wolfram & Hart was behind this attack. After all they were demon advocates. "Wherever that gun is from, it means trouble."

Wesley only nodded, but Cordelia's attention was fully focused on Doyle.

"Please don't die." She pleaded in a whisper.

She bent down and kissed his wounded mouth, felt a tingling spread into her lips and then into her whole body. Was this the earth shattering feeling you got when you kissed your other half?

....the fic will not be continued.

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