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Abused By Tango i
don't want to be your downtime Angel felt his body aching and couldn't think of a way to make it stop. He wanted nothing more than to walk into that building, sweep Buffy's slight body into his arms and carry her out, knocking away anyone who stood in his way. His soul grieved and his heart was swelling, causing the rest of him to jolt in response. Hours were spent pacing around his large room at the Waldorf, making tracks in the expensive flooring, thinking about how to make things right. The Monday following her first call to him, he waited all day to see if she would call. Although he was waiting to hear his phone ring, the actual sound nearly made him jump out of his skin. The first call was was stilted, filled with I miss yous and I love yous. The following ones were daily nonsense - what each of them had been filling their days with and how they planned to spend the evenings. The more he thought about the calls, the more he thought they weren't enough. He wasn't saying the right things. Hell, he wasn't saying anything meaningful at all. He wished he could think of some magical phrase, something that would make her understand how much she meant to him, anything that would convince her how important her life was to him. He wanted more than anything for her to come home but he was terrified that if she did, she would try to hurt herself again. His wakeful nights were filled with horrified thoughts of what could happen and when he accidentally fell into a troublesome sleep, his dreams reminded him of the things his conscious mind hadn't thought of yet. Now he had one more night to get through until he could see her and he knew it would probably be the longest. He stared at himself in the mirror and groaned. He looked like shit. Dark circles ringed his eyes from the lack of sleep and he had grown way too thin from forgetting to eat or barely getting anything down when he did remember. One look at him and she would know that he had spent every moment worrying about her. Just as he prepared to call room service to order a meal, a small knock on his door forced him away from his reflection. He trudged over and swung it open, not bothering to glance through the peephole first. Keeping his grimace in check, he stepped back and waved in Joyce Summers. "I hope I'm not disturbing you," she said politely as she walked inside, almost tiptoeing as if she thought she would wake someone up. "No, you're not," he said, waiting for her to sit down on the sofa and then sitting down in the chair across from her. "What can I do for you, Joyce?" "I don't know how to say this," she said, wringing her hands nervously, "But I don't think you should be the first person to see Buffy tomorrow. I want to see her first, so I'm asking you to wait until 5 o'clock to go. Give me an hour alone with her." "You're not going to try and keep me away, are you?" Angel asked, keeping the stridence from his tone as much as possible. He had a sneaking fear that there was some form or waiver inside there to keep certain people from the guest list. "No," Joyce answered, forcing a smile on her lips, but it looked weak and it trembled. "Joyce, I have to see her. I know you still have some strange dislike for me and I can accept that, but she asked me to come tomorrow and I promised her I would. I'm not going to break my word to Buffy," Angel said, looking directly in her eyes. "She was with you when she tried to kill herself!" Joyce blurted as she stood up from the couch, "I don't think you should be anywhere near her!" "I'm sorry, Joyce," Angel said, keeping his seat, knowing if he towered over her while he was this upset, it would only make things worse. Instead, he gripped the sides of the chair and took a deep breath. "But it really doesn't matter what you think. If Buffy doesn't want me there, then I'll stay away. This is her life and I'm going to make sure that she knows that she has choices in it. It's bad enough that she doesn't have a choice to leave that place if she wants." "I'm doing the best I can for her!" Joyce shouted, "The people in her life were what drove her to this! She needs to be away from you and those other people she's been around. She was fine before!" "You locked her up in there, didn't you?" Angel accused, narrowing his eyes angrily, "You said you didn't have a choice, but you did!" "Of course, I had a choice," she shouted, "You think they can just lock her up against her will? I'm doing what's best for my daughter." "Did you ever try asking her what she wants rather than just thinking for her?" Angel demanded, struggling to keep himself in his chair. "I agree she needs therapy and I definitely think she needs some time to herself, but you haven't even admitted to her that you're the reason she's there! She thinks she's in some kind of prison! I told you once that I'm not stepping aside and I meant it. When visiting hours come at 4 o'clock tomorrow, I'm going to be there. If you try to keep me from her, I'll tell her what you've done." "She won't believe you!" Joyce shouted, "I'm her mother!" "Are you willing to take that chance?" Angel asked, finally unfolding his large frame from the chair and glaring across the room at her. "I think we both know she'll believe me." "You're the reason she didn't talk to me before," Joyce said, sinking back onto the couch, "Why are you doing this to us? She's my only child and I have to protect her." "I love her," Angel said, circling his chair and bracing his hands on the back of it, " and I'll never hurt her. Riley hurt her, Joyce, and you hurt her by being so blind that you can't see what she needs and doesn't need. I think you should get to know your daughter." "How long have you been with her? A few months?" Joyce demanded angrily, "You think just because you're screwing her you know who she is?" "No," Angel answered, "I know who she is because I talk to her and she talks to me. I'm not saying I know her every wish or dream. I don't and I never will. Hell, I'm not entirely sure if I'm what she needs in her life, but I'm going to make sure she knows she has me. Even if you manage to keep me away while she's in that place, when she gets out you won't be able to keep us apart. I can promise you that. What do think she'll do when I tell her that you're the reason I can't be there when she needs me?" *** bidding
their darkened spirits goodbye "Don't tell me, I know this one," Faith said, leaning back in the grass next to Buffy in the small courtyard outside where the patients were they were allowed to spend their free time, "Jenny shrank you on Angel's visit today." "Yeah, that was a disaster," Buffy said gloomily, "For a second I thought she was going to tell me that he couldn't come cause I'm so nervous about it." "Nah, she'd never do that," Faith said, shaking her dark head, "She knows if we weren't allowed to have visitors we'd go postal." "That's a good," Buffy said, "Cause I already told him he could come. He is going to come, right?" "Lover boy'll be here," Faith said, smiling knowingly, "No doubt spouting his eternal love like he always does." "What if he changes his mind about me?" Buffy frowned, leaning her head against the tree thoughtfully, "What if he shows up and decides I'm a nutcase before he goes running out of here? Or maybe he'll wait until I'm released and then tell me that he doesn't love me anymore. Or maybe-" "You're killing me, B," Faith groaned, laying back in the grass, "He's wicked crazy about you. Even I can tell that and I just eavesdrop on half the conversations. Just wait. I'm sure he'll be here with bells on. I can't wait to see him. If he's as hot as you say he is, I'll have some eye candy tonight." "He's beautiful," Buffy said, smiling dreamily. "Oh gawd," Faith groaned again, looking up at the cloudless sky as she rolled her eyes heavenward. *** i
don't wanna be the bad guy Angel made sure that Joyce did not get to the facility before him. In fact, he was sitting on the front steps reading a book an hour prior just to make sure. He was still reeling from his conversation with her the night before and even went as far to ask the hotel's front desk to let him know if she left for any reason. The idea that he would be kept from Buffy any longer made his stomach turn. It was bad enough that visitation hours were only from 5 PM - 9 PM. Angel, while pretending to read, was calculating the minimum time he would be forced to stay away from Buffy for the next couple of weeks so he didn't notice when Joyce arrived at quarter to five until she sat down wordlessly next to him on the steps. Angel closed his book and turned it over in his hands as he waited for her to speak. "I'm not going to do anything to keep you from her," Joyce said quietly, "But I am going to ask her what she wants. If she says she doesn't want you there, will you leave?" "Yes," Angel said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, "But I want to hear her say it. It won't mean anything to me coming from you." "Thank you," she said, keeping her voice steady and low. "Why do you hate me so much?" Angel asked, glancing at his watch before turning to his love's mother, "What did I ever do to you to make you think I'm such a horrible person? Joyce, I don't beat Buffy, I don't mistreat her and I'm not trying to take anything from either of you. All I want to do is love her." "I trusted Riley," Joyce said, looking straight ahead into the street, "I trusted him and he raped and beat my daughter. She acted like she loved him too. Just because she acts like she loves you doesn't mean she does." "I'm not Riley Finn," Angel said, rising to his feet and heading toward the front door of the facility. "And I'm sure as hell not Hank Summers." Despite the sound of Joyce's intake of breath and his name coming from her lips in an outrage, he didn't turn around. He was tired of defending himself...and he had someplace to be. *** tell
me where have you been Buffy changed three times before Faith told her she was all "hoed out" and then twice more after that. All of her clothes felt wrong on her body all of sudden, hanging from her too thin frame like rags. She tried on everything and almost decided to hide her body inside Angel's huge shirt, before it was vetoed by Faith, who told her she was being fucking stupid. At least in his shirt, he would know she loved him and he would have a harder time seeing that her once lithe and supple frame had turned into the starved waif look. As she slipped on a pair of jeans, she wondered where along her suicidal road she had lost her curves. During the whole ensemblely challenged ordeal, Faith stayed in Buffy's room, lounging on her bed, laughing and scrambling her blonde friend's nerves as much as she could...just for the hell of it. When Buffy had finally decided on the jeans Angel had slipped her note in, a black camisole and her favorite chunky black boots, she walked out into the lounge area with Faith closely at her heels. She left her hair down and found herself twirling the ends around her fingers nervously. She was sure that it would be in knots before he got there, but she was beyond caring. All she could think of was whether or not he would actually show up. "Damn," Faith hissed under her breath as a tall, dark man walked in followed by a motherly type woman and the on-staff nurse, "Is that him?" "Yes," Buffy answered, after spinning around in mid-pace. She felt her knees shaking uncontrollably along with her hands and the rest of her body as she approached Angel and her mother. She stopped short in front of both of them, looking from one to the other unsure of whom she should greet first. The choice was made for her when her mother nearly knocked her over, rushing around Angel to take her daughter in her arms. "Buffy," Joyce whispered as she hugged her tightly to her chest. Buffy mumbled a greeting as she looked at Angel over her mom's shoulder. He looked thin as well and tired. In fact, he looked exhausted like sheer will was the only thing keeping him awake. She stifled a sob when she reached his eyes, feeling the sadness set in deeper inside her. "How are you, sweetheart?" Joyce asked, pulling back and holding Buffy by the shoulders. She scrutinized her daughter closely, as if she were looking for some physical mark or wound that would be apparent on the outside rather than in. "I'm okay," Buffy answered, rasping out her reply. She slowly disentangled herself from her mother's iron grip and approached Angel, inching over slowly as if she expected him to bite her. He met her half way and even though he had planned to quell his emotions, he swept her into his arms and hugged her tightly. Angel felt Joyce looking on as he held Buffy, but he ignored her deliberately. "I missed you," Angel whispered into her hair, wondering if her little bones would crack beneath his embrace. He didn't even realize that he had lifted her off of the ground and was peppering little kisses all over her face until he had reached her lips. "I missed you too," she managed to whisper back when he set her back on her feet. He closed his eyes when she caressed his face with a shaking hand. Her fingertips felt to familiar, so achingly strange again against his skin. *** i can't take the pain of wanting her, needing her Despite everything he had planned and his argument with Joyce, Angel found himself waiting in the lounge with Buffy's friend, Faith, as she and her mother went out to the courtyard to talk. He couldn't help staring at them out the window as they sat in the chairs there and talked. Buffy's movements seemed stilted and nervous and the more he watched her, the more nervous he got. She had lost too much weight and she seemed to be trembling more every second. It was all he could do to sit there when she was so close. He was forced to wait a whole hour before Joyce came back in, leaving Buffy there on the lighted patio, staring out into grass and trees. He watched as Joyce approached him, not hearing whatever Faith was saying to him. "I'm going back to the hotel," Joyce informed him curtly, "Buffy and I agreed that I will visit with her every day from four to five and you can have the rest of the time if you want." "Did you tell her about our argument?" Angel asked, keeping the word singular rather than plural. No need to bring up how often they had been fighting since Buffy went away. "I asked her if she wanted you here and she said she does," Joyce answered and tightened her lips as Angel, in spite of his attempt not to, smiled. Taking a deep breath, she continued, "If you upset her, I will make sure you can't come back." "What'd you do to piss her off?" Faith asked, once Joyce had left and Angel stood to go outside to meet with Buffy. "Just existing is enough, I think," Angel said, shaking his head as he moved toward the door. *** all
the words they give her "I've been thinking about what to say to you," Angel said, as he sat down in the chair next to Buffy, "But nothing seems to be right." "I know the feeling," Buffy agreed. Their chairs were side by side, but both were turned in their seats so they could look at each other. Neither reached out to touch the other even though that's all they wanted to do. "I've had a lot of time to think about us, Buffy," Angel said, finally, causing Buffy to bite her lip nervously and look away. Tears welled up in her eyes and her heart sank as she waited for him to tell her he didn't love her or that he wasn't coming back. She stared out in the darkening sky and gripped the arms of her chair as she waited for him to continue. "Look at me, baby," he said gently and waited until she turned her tearing eyes back to him. "All I have been able to do is think about how to tell you I love you so you'll believe me or what I could say to make you want to come home to me when you're better. I don't know what the right words are, Buffy. I don't know how to make this awkwardness disappear. I want to make you happy, but I don't know how. If you'd be happier if I stayed away, just tell me and I promise I'll try." "Please don't go," Buffy said, horrified that he would even think that she might not want him there, "I'm sorry I'm crazy, Angel." "You're not crazy, love," he said, prying one of her hands off of the arm of the chair and taking it in his, "You're unhappy. We'll make it better, okay? All you need is a little more time and then you can come home." "I need to know something," Buffy said quietly, "What…what happens when I get out of here?" "What do I think will happen or what do I want to happen?" he asked. "Both, either…whatever. Do you really want me to come home with you or are you saying that cause you think I'm a basketcase?" she asked, determined to keep her tears at bay. If Angel wanted her to not live with him again, she was going to accept in an adult-like manner…at least until he left anyway. Angel nearly growled with irritation at her question and pulled her into his lap before he thought about the ramifications of such an action in that sort of sterile, hospital-like environment. He held her tightly to him with one arm and cupped her face with the other, "Buffy, I want you to come home with me. I want you in my bed, in my life for as long as you'll have me. I don't know any other way to tell you that I am madly in love with you." "I love you too," she whimpered quietly, keeping her eyes away from his. None of it made any sense. She had caused him to get shot twice, jacked up his school year, invaded his apartment, turned his house into a militarized zone and pretty much ruined his entire life. He couldn't possibly mean what he was saying. "Why would I even bother coming here if I didn't love you, godamn it?" he demanded so loudly that the nurses inside and Faith could all hear his roar of irritation. The weeks without her were wearing thin and he was beyond giving a shit what anyone else thought. Nothing mattered anymore but convincing his little lost love what she meant to him. Albeit, slightly less yelling and more kissing probably could have accomplished much the same thing, he couldn't stand the thought that she still might not get it. "I've thought about you every minute since…since you left. I don't think you're crazy, Buffy. Hell, all of my friends think I've gone crazy! I think about you every second of every useless day and I miss you so damn much I can't even sleep without dreaming of you. I want to marry you and take care of you the rest of your life. I love you, Buffy Summers. You're the only thing I've ever wanted! I just need to know if you want me as much as I want you?" "More," she croaked out allowing her tears to flow freely from her eyes as she buried her face in his chest. "I don't even think that's possible," he whispered into her hair, holding her to him more tightly. *** Abused DEDICATION: For Trammie. Thanks for helping me brainstorm! *G* *** i
think you like to be the victim Angel left not one-second before 9 PM that evening. In fact, he left several minutes after with the staff nurse nearly pushing him out the door. Buffy floated back to her room, not bothering to stop to talk to Faith, as she usually did before bed. She didn’t want to do anything but stay wrapped in the warmth of him that still covered her entire body. She shed her clothes, slipped on his shirt, climbed into bed and huddled beneath the covers as if she were trying to trap him under there with her. She had forgotten how much she loved to be in his arms. It was just enough to make her ache for more and all of a sudden, she felt like her attempt on her own life was as much a gyp to herself as it was to him. The idea of not spending another night with his large body pressed against hers, wrapped around her, was maddening. She closed her eyes tightly and she could almost feel him there, pressing his chest against hers, his hand intertwined in her smaller one. “So,” Faith said, strolling into Buffy’s bedroom and flipping on her light without bothering to knock, “Angel gave you that low down tickle and you had to jump right into bed without so much as a ‘nitey nite’ to me, huh?” “God, Faith,” Buffy groaned, turning over to face her friend, “You really have a way with words, you know that?” “Just telling it how I see it,” Faith said, shrugging and planting herself on the end of the bed. She smiled dazzlingly, her grin growing wider until Buffy huffed a bit too loud, “What?” “So Angel’s a muffin,” Faith said, raising a dark eyebrow, “And so into you he didn’t even notice that I was talking to him.” “Yeah,” Buffy said noncommittally, hoping that if she didn’t talk Faith would simply find her way back out as quickly as she found her way in and leave her to the dreams she planned to have. “Okay, I’ll leave you to fantasize about your honey,” Faith said, rising from the end of the bed, “But if you wanna piece of that fine ass during visiting hours, let me know.” “Ooookay. You are so not right,” Buffy said, rolling her eyes, “You think they’re just going to let him walk in my room and we can do whatever we want?” “I never said in here, Twinkie,” Faith answered with a smirk, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. “All we have to do is pop the lock on the supply room and sneak him in there with you just after evening rounds.” “I can wait,” Buffy said, turning over in bed suddenly and betraying to Faith that she had at least thought about it, “I don’t need to screw Angel in a supply closet. I’m trying to get back to sane here, you know. It’s not a party.” “You can wait,” Faith said, “But can Mr. Tall, Dark and Munchable?” “Of course,” Buffy said pointedly, risking a glance over her shoulder, “I mean, it’s not like he’s going to have to go without for very long and besides, he’s not a sex fiend like some people around here.” *** we
never talk about the future But Angel was a sex fiend and Buffy knew it. He could never get enough of her when they were together and suddenly every time she looked at him for his next two visits, she wondered how he felt about being apart, if he thought about sleeping with other women while she was away. She thought about that big hotel he slept in every night. She knew he loved her, but did he think about taking another woman in his bed? When she closed her eyes she started to see beautiful, faceless, female bodies pressed against a mattress she hadn’t even seen, other women gasping his name and writhing beneath him. Their visits were wonderful despite Buffy’s fears. When she was with him, she knew that he hadn’t touched anyone else, that he wouldn’t dream of making love to another woman. She knew from one look in his eyes that his feelings for her were clear. Still, on Wednesday evening as they were curled up together against the big Redwood tree in the courtyard, she knew she was going to have to bring it up before she went crazy thinking about it. “I have something for you,” she said against his chest and sat up to look at him for a second before digging in her pocket. He watched her silently, wondering what she could possibly have for him when she placed a little silver ring in his hand. It was just a simple piece of jewelry with two interwoven strands. “I won it,” she said, placing it in the center of his outstretched hand. Suddenly the gift seemed silly when she saw it in his large palm. “We were playing this game in group therapy,” Buffy explained, “Anyway, I wanted to give it to you.” “Thank you,” he said, holding it between his forefinger and thumb, peering at it in the darkness. He leaned over and pressed his lips to her temple in a soft kiss that felt like a smile. “You don’t have to wear it or anything,” Buffy said quickly, “Probably won’t fit. It’s kinda silly. It’s just this cheap little thing, but I...” “It’s not silly,” he said, slipping on his pinky finger and then wrapping his arm around her, “I love it.” “I was just thinking about rings, you know and how they’re supposed to represent something that has no end and no beginning. They’re never ending,” she said, leaning against his chest again, “That’s what I want. I knew the moment I really thought I was going to die, when that doctor was telling me that I might, that I wanted to live. That’s why I gave it to you, so you’d know. It’s kind of like a promise from me to you, that instead of taking my life, I’m...I’m giving it to you.” Buffy waited for him to answer for several moments, but was met with complete silence. Unnerved, she started to sit up and look at him when he pulled her in more tightly. It wasn’t until he rubbed his cheek against hers that she realized his face was damp. “I wanted you to tell me so badly that you wanted...” he said, tapering off to take a deep shuddering breath. “Buffy, I’m so afraid that you’ll try to do this again. I didn’t know how to bring it up. I don’t even know what made you do what you did, love. You kept telling me it wasn’t me, but...” “No, Angel,” Buffy gasped, bolting up from where he was holding her to him and pivoting. She swung her leg over his and straddled his lap so that she could meet his eyes directly. “It wasn’t you. I...I was so confused and I wasn’t dealing and I was trying to be perfect for you so you wouldn’t hate me for being so stupid and weak. Then that day, I was taking a shower and realized I was really late and I thought I was pregnant. I just knew I was carrying that monster’s child and I just...I just lost it.” “Were y-you pregnant?” Angel stammered, swallowing harshly. “No,” she said, leaning forward until her forehead rested against his chest, “It never even occurred to me that it could have been yours until later and then I didn’t want to tell you. Do you hate me now?” “No,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and rubbing her back gently, “I just wish you would have come to me. I told you that nothing is so horrible to make me leave you, Buffy. Even if you had been pregnant and it had been Riley’s, we would have dealt with it.” “There’s something else I’ve been thinking about,” Buffy said, keeping her head tucked safely against his chest. “What’s that, love?” “Making love to you,” she said as she absently traced the muscles hidden by his shirt, “I mean, do you miss it?” “Of course, I miss it,” he answered, kissing the top of her head, “I miss holding you and making love to you. I miss going to bed with you at night and waking up with you in the morning but there’ll be plenty of time for that when you come home.” “Do you think about it?” she prodded. “Sure, I do,” he said, tipping her chin up so their eyes met, “Believe me, baby, I think about making love to you all the time.” “Me too,” she said, kissing him lightly and then more deeply before snuggling against him again. *** you
know all the right people “Supply closet,” Buffy said the following morning almost the second she saw Faith. “I want to know how we can pull it off.” “After evening rounds,” Faith said, laughing as she spoke, “I’ll pop the lock and then a few minutes later, he can pop you. It should be around 5:30 or so. Plenty of time for your mother to get out and Angel to get in.” “You’re sick. You know that?” Buffy said, slouching on the couch and pretending to glare at her. “You’re the one who wants to hump in the closet,” Faith smirked back, “And I’m the sick one. Yeah. Okay.” A loud crash down the hallway closely followed by a woman’s scream forced their conversation to a halt. Faith and Buffy both jumped up and skidded into the hall and started down it as thumps, grunts and screams continued to echo down to them. By the time they reached the end of the long corridor, a crowd had formed but they could see that the noise was coming from Jenny’s office and the guards were already in there. They lagged at the back of the crowd of curious patients until the guards dragged a male patient out of the office and forced him down the hall. His resistance mixed with their forcefulness caused him to stumble forward and nearly tip over. He was not a large man, but the look in his eyes gave Buffy the chills. His eyes held a fury that she wasn’t familiar with and didn’t want to be. The man, undoubtedly the most loony in the loony bin, as Faith whispered in Buffy’s ear, wasn’t the most shocking part of the event. A minute or two after the guy was man handled out of the ward, a couple of orderlies came running in with a gurney. Buffy sucked in a horrified breath as they wheeled it back out again and lying on it was a very bloodied and beaten Jenny Calendar. “Oh my God,” Buffy whispered harshly, “Jenny.” “Holy shit,” Faith said in unison as they both turned in slow motion to watch their doctor being wheeled away from them, just conscious enough to moan in pain. *** angel
turns away “He totally went nuts,” Buffy gasped to Angel after telling him the whole grueling event of Jenny’s earlier attack, “More nuts than most around here anyway and Faith said that the nurse said that she’s not coming back, like, ever. The guy was shipped off to a real mental institution and Jenny’s in the hospital. We’re supposed to get a new doctor tomorrow.” “Wow,” Angel said, shaking his head, “Sounds like you had an exciting afternoon.” He looked out the window for a moment as the idea dawned on him that if Dr. Calendar wasn’t even safe, then Buffy could possibly be harmed here. The idea made his blood run cold and he couldn’t help that his face was twisted into a scowl. “What?” Buffy said, and then repeated herself before he looked back at her, “What’s wrong?” “If there’s ever anyone here that makes you feel uncomfortable, if someone looks at you wrong, call me,” Angel barked. It wasn’t a request. It was an order. He was terrified that something might happen to her and he couldn’t believe he had invested in the false security of this sterile place. Suddenly, her refuge seemed less refugey and more dangerous. “Angel, it was just that one guy,” Buffy said, rubbing his arm soothingly, “And it was because Jenny wouldn’t let him leave early. We can all see now why he wasn’t ready to go.” “Still,” Angel said, “If you feel unsafe, I want to know about it and I’ll pull you out of this place. I’m not kidding. I won’t have you in danger for one second.” “You can do that?” Buffy asked with astonishment, her face flushing as the realm of possibilities was presented to her. If she hated the new doctor or if she felt trapped, Angel could set her free. The thought was affecting her like a drug and her whole body warmed to the idea of being at the mansion again, tucked beside her lover in that giant bed, surrounded by nothing but him and Egyptian cotton. “I can do whatever I damn well please,” Angel answered stubbornly, “Don’t worry, love. If you need to get out of here, I’ll make sure you do.” “Psst,” Faith said, leaning around the corner and waving at them urgently. Buffy stood and grabbed Angel’s hand, pulling him with her. He stood and followed the girls in confusion, balking slightly as they moved toward the area where the bedrooms were. The last thing he wanted, despite his macho talk, was to be thrown out for going in restricted areas of the ward. “Come on,” Buffy whispered, tugging him with her. Helpless and curious to know what was up, he followed and was surprised when Faith dropped to one knee in front of an unmarked door. He raised an eyebrow at Buffy when he realized she was picking the lock. He didn’t have time to comment before Faith stood, opened the door triumphantly and waved them inside. Buffy pulled Angel in and he glanced back at Faith as she shut the door and locked them in, winking at him before the door closed her out. “Buffy,” he whispered in the dark, able to see her clearly through the dim light flooding in through the cloudy window, “What are we doing in here?” “I think you know,” Buffy whispered saucily as she pushed him back against the supply shelf. She rubbed her body against his and nipped at the flesh of his neck while he looked down at her in utter shock. “Baby, don’t get me wrong,” Angel said, stumbling over his words, “You have no idea how badly I want to touch you, but what if we get caught in here?” “Please,” Buffy whispered, grinding against his already evident arousal, “I need to feel you, need to know that you still want me.” “In a supply closet?” Angel asked. Not that he hadn’t had sex in strange places, even more public ones and he wasn’t a prude in any sense of the word, but it seemed sacrilegious to take her here. She was the one woman who deserved to be made love to, who should have the finest things and the full attention of her lover, not a quick fuck in the janitor’s closet. “Are you going to reject me?” Buffy asked quietly. The look on her face let him know that he could quite possibly ruin every bit of her emotional peace if he refused. It didn’t really matter anyway, because he couldn’t say no when she was pressed up against him, her tiny body flush against him, her hot breath on his neck and her belly pressing against his engorged groin. When he waited to answer, she reached down and traced his arousal with her fingertips, firmly applying pressure where he needed it most. “Buffy, please,” Angel groaned, closing his eyes and moving his hips toward her fingers involuntarily. “Want you,” she whispered after biting into his neck. She reached unbuttoned his shirt quickly and spread it open like a present, smiling at his muscled chest and abdomen which was taut as he struggled for control. She licked and kissed his newly bared skin and reached for the button of his pants, tugging at it until it gave and then releasing the zipper. “I miss the taste of you,” she continued as she pushed his pants down and then tugged his boxers as well, leaving him bared for her, “I miss the way you feel.” He groaned as she stepped away and pulled her simple sundress off to reveal her completely naked body. It hadn’t occurred to him until they ducked in the closet why she had chosen to wear a dress that day. “You’ve been walking around here nearly naked all day?” Angel growled angrily even as his body responded to hers and his hands reached out to pull her back into his embrace. “Just changed before you got here,” she whispered back. “It’s not like-“ She didn’t have time to finish her sentence as his mouth descended on hers. She squirmed in want against his throbbing sex, reaching down to circle her little fingers around his shaft. Before she even had time to plead for him to make love to her, his hands were around her waist, lifting her off of the floor. She jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Turning them, he pressed her against the shelf he had been leaning on and reached between her thighs to test her arousal. He kissed her forcefully and sucked on her sweet tongue as he pressed a finger into her heat. Both groaned with the intrusion, welcoming the connection after so long apart. He wasted no time guiding himself into her slick core and she lolled her head back on the shelf as he fully sheathed inside her. He had to force himself to slow his movements and prolong the pleasure even though this was supposed to be a quickie. He rocked slowly in and out of her, relishing in the feel of her skin against his and reminding himself of the little details he loved about her – how her body connected so perfectly with his as if she were tailored just for him, the texture of her skin, how soft and supple it was gliding underneath his hands and how light she was, as if it were nature’s way of telling him that his perfect little goddess could never be a burden. He buried his face into the crook of her neck and laved the flesh were her shoulder met her neck and found himself repeating the same phrase over and over and over again, “I love you, Buffy. I love you.” “Angel,” she whispered finally, interrupting his lament. She threaded her fingers through his hair when he looked up at her and she kissed him deeply and slowly, tightening her legs around his waist. “I love you too and I’m not going to try to leave you again. Not ever.” “I don’t even know who the hell I am anymore,” he whispered against her mouth, “I don’t even want to know who I’d be if I lost you.” “You’ll never find out,” she answered, biting his lower lip before soothing the bite with her tongue. He smiled broadly, filled with more hope and happiness than he had been allowed for weeks on end. She gasped as he caressed her breasts, gliding over them and teasing her nipples before he leaned in to taste them, trying to remember the last time he had felt the pleasure of her tight channel flexing around him as he suckled on one of her perfect erect nipples. Too damn long. A lightness filled him as he heard her breath hitch and her movements change. He moved to the other nipple, focusing on slow, grinding thrusts that sent her over the edge. A cry escaped her and he quickly covered her mouth with his own, muffling her cry of pleasure as he too tipped over the edge. 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