| Part Seven "Needing More" Please feedback at Tangofic@hotmail.com LYRICS: All lyrics are by The Counting Crows RATING: NC-17 - I bet you thought I'd never get to the smut. (There's also a bit ‘o violence in this one. I know you've been missing it, Sharon. My deepest apologies. Here you go, honey...just a tiny taste...) WARNING: There's violence and disturbing images ahead. DEDICATION: For Mai Shine *** pull
me out from the inside Buffy ran full speed after the two vampires that had attacked her. They were two out of five that had survived the initial attack. When their friends were dusted, they decided to make a run for it, realizing that jumping a Slayer wasn't their brightest plan to date. She was feeling particularly energetic from the sexual frustration she had built up over the last couple of days of being around Angel. She chased them down and caught them when they trapped themselves at the wrought iron gate in the corner of the cemetery. Stupid fledglings had enough brain power between them to run along the gate together, but they paused too long and it was enough of a time gainer for her to catch them. She dispatched them quickly and turned on the new comer that was behind her. She turned and swung, feeling air as her hand grazed the top of his hair. "Getting slower, Slayer?" he asked, smiling crookedly. His smile stuck as he parried her next blow and sidestepped as her toned leg lashed out to connect with the firm torso that was no longer there. "Shouldn't you be changing diapers, vampire?" she asked, smiling at him and leaning back as he reached out to grab her. She flipped over the gravestone she knew was behind her, landing solidly on the other side of it. "Tricky, baby," he said, leaping over it and landing a few inches from her. He reached out and grabbed her hips, jutting them roughly against his and allowing her to feel the arousal that waited eagerly for her warm touch. She pressed against him for a moment, grinding her hips and then with a twist, she was out of his arms. Leaping over headstones like she was on a track field, she heard him following closely behind her. She always wondered how he was able to make such little sound and how his large body moved in a graceful prowl that other vampires couldn't seemed to master. He caught up quickly and Buffy wasn't entirely sure if he was faster or if she actually let him. It didn't matter because she wanted him to catch her. He pulled her arm roughly and pushed her against the stone nearest them, sending her back several feet. "No more running, love," he grunted hoarsely as he captured her lips, plunging his tongue in and swallowing the gasps of breath she was releasing into him. "It's better when you have to work for it," she said with a smirk, reaching between them to grip his cock through his pants, "How do you run in this condition?" "Why do you think it took so long to catch up with you?" he asked, pulling the front of her shirt down to release her braless breasts. He swore she didn't wear a bra just to torment him. He dismissed the thought and lowered his head to bite at her nipples, swirling his tongue to ease the burn of his bite. Her body warmed to his cool touch and when she moaned, he felt her skin reverberating beneath his lips. He turned her suddenly, bending her over the grave marker and pulling her pants down swiftly in the process. He scanned the area before him for onlookers and happily found none. She pushed against him as he moved his hand over the silky skin of her ass and between her legs to feel the wetness waiting for him. "Now," she panted, gripping the edge of the cement, "Inside Angel. Now." He nearly ripped the button off of the top of his pants as he freed his cock and entered her from behind. His large hands moved to cover her bare breasts, anchoring him to his lover as he thrust inside her. The need and want splattering around them seemed to dance in the air, creating raucous tramping lust to bleed into the ground, stirring the remains of the dead. She pressed back against him as suckled his mark on her neck, digging his blunt teeth into her skin just hard enough to leave the flesh unbroken. She panted as his groans of pleasure muffled against her neck. He slipped a hand down between her legs, tracing her clit for a moment before applying pressure to the sensitive spot. Moments later, she came, throwing her head back and landing against his broad shoulder as he moved inside her flexing channel. When he finally release his cold seed inside her, she nearly cried. The consummation of the next phase of their relationship finally had been completed. She felt like it was real at last. She leaned against the gravestone, catching her breath and she felt him gently tugging her top back up to cover her breasts. He reached down and pulled her pants back up, kissing her neck as he attempted to fasten them again, finding that he had torn them so much in his urgency that they couldn't be zipped up. "Sorry," he said with an unapologetic smile as she turned to face him. She hopped up to sit on the top of the gravestone and smiled back at him, "I guess I got carried away. I really meant to take you home and make love to you, not attack you in the cemetery." "There's always time for both," she said as he stepped between her legs to except the kiss that was waiting on her lips. "I love you," he whispered, pulling her in more tightly. *** she lies beside me naked The biggest problem with Doyle's aching head was not that he'd just had a vision, it was that he'd just had a vision after having his head pounded into Angel's marble floor by the Darla. He sat up in bed and Cordelia stirred in her sleep. He shuffled to the kitchen, poured himself a stiff drink and headed back the bedroom to call Angel and warn him of his vision. His whole body was sore from his fight to the death with the pregnant vampiress. He now remembered why he wanted the visions instead of Angel and Buffy's jobs. Cordy snuggled closer to his side of the bed, murmuring in her sleep. She looked like a cherub with her hair splayed across the pillow in that tousled way and her belly rounding the covers. He smiled as the phone rang unanswered at the mansion. When he saw her sleeping with that kind of peace, there really didn't seem to be much danger in the world. It was almost as if the visions, the fights, the apocalypses were all false and the only thing that was true was his wife and his unborn child. He hung up the phone after about 12 rings, cursing Angel for never setting up the answering machine. Cordy was going to do it, but his princess was so easily distracted. He bent over and kissed her forehead before slipping on his clothes and shoes. He checked in the nursery and found Connor sleeping soundly. He looked down at him anticipating his own child lying in that bed soon. Whistling a happy tune despite his pounding headache and the oncoming danger, he headed off across town to his boss' home. *** i
dream of Michelangelo when i'm lying in my bed Drusilla was trapped inside that cell made up of scientific white tiles. She could feel the sterile science seeping through the walls and piercing her dark thoughts. That wasn't the worst of it. Being separated from Spike wasn't even the worst of it. The anger, frustration and fear of the demons beating against her brain was the worst. Her mate screamed for release with the rest of them but he was the loudest, the most urgent, the most angry. He yearned for the blood of The Slayer almost more than he longed to be in her arms again. He wanted to see his Sire on his knees begging for mercy before he was destroyed. Spike was furious and his rage was drowning out any visions that Drusilla might have had or any mental searchings for another escape. A human guard was approaching. She heard his uniform footsteps coming down the hallway toward her cell. She neared the window and leaned in as far as she could, looking for him. "Hello," she said, smoothing a hand over her the red velvet that covered her breasts. "Hi there," he answered, stepping toward the glass with interest. Vampires were disgusting beasts to him, but a beautiful woman was a beautiful woman, undead or not. His hormones got best of him as her pale hand moved up her body. He followed it until he was looking into her eyes. "Be in me," she whispered as she began to sway back and forth. *** all
dressed up Spike paced in his cell, circling around the bag of blood that lay taunting him in the middle of the floor. The longer he looked at it, the more he was convinced that it was drugged and more his rage grew. How long would he be in this fucking place staring at blood that he wasn't allowed to drink? Only timing had saved him from getting a chip in his noggin like the poor sod in the next room. Drusilla and Darla had been spared only because with Darla pregnant and vicious they hadn't been able to get into the room. Darla had fed off Dru for the most part, stealing her blood. He knew she was still weak and he wondered how she was doing, if she was okay. They separated the males and the females in this bloody place like it was a dormitory. The least they could do was give him his mate if he was going to be trapped here. This whole thing was Angel and Buffy's fault. They had left him and Dru here like caged animals. Did they really think that these lab rats would be able to keep them here? Not bloody likely. They escaped before and they would again. He couldn't wait to sink his teeth in the next passing human on his way to kill The Slayer and his nancy boy Sire. He had had enough of tip toeing around the ponce. He would take him off this hellish planet after he forced him to watch the death of his precious Rebecca of Sunnyhell. A familiar clicking sound was coming down the hallway and after a few moments, it was distracting enough to take him to the glass wall separating him from the freedom he so desperately wanted. The sound was a waltz, it was the gait of his lover. When he realized she had escaped using her parlor room trance and he wanted to jump up and down with glee. Drusilla smiled at him as she pressed the release for the door and excepted his kiss as he stepped out of his prison and into her arms. "Thank you, pet," he said, kissing her again. They had so little time apart and yet he felt like he was starving for her. She looked paler than usual, even though the warmth of her skin betrayed that she had eaten the poor idiot that had set her free. She needed to feed again. He wanted nothing more than to hand her The Slayer on a platter and feed her the delicious blood inside the girl's veins. *** you
try to tell yourself the things you try to tell yourself Riley, Forrest and Graham decided to take a random patrol that night. They were not under orders to patrol. In fact, the area had already been covered by another group of men earlier in the evening, but Riley was restless and his friends were reluctant to leave him alone when he was fretting over The Slayer and her vampire ex. Their commander, who had taken over the complex after Professor Walsh unfortunate demise, was very interested in the child to be born to the female vampire that they had in containment until the mishap the other night. The whole compound was under orders to recapture the she-demon and her spawn as soon as possible. But Riley didn't care about the blonde vampire or her child. All he cared about was the blur of slender muscle and blonde hair that just breezed past them in the cemetery. If they had blinked they would have missed her chasing two vampires through the graveyard. The only sound was the vampires' big pounding feet. The Slayer was nearly silent as she chased them. The three commandos fell in, following the chase and keeping their eyes peeled in case the undead had friends. By the time they reached her, she had already dusted them and was fighting another vampire. Angel. Riley started to step forward to protect his girl at any costs, but Forrest placed a restraining hand on his chest. Riley looked over at him angrily and started to speak when Forrest said, "It's foreplay. Look at them. He's not trying to hurt her, he's try to screw her." "Maybe you should stop talking to me," Riley snapped as Buffy took off through the graveyard closely followed by the dark vampire. "Wake up, Ri," Graham said as Riley shrugged off Forrest and started to follow the pair, "She doesn't look like she's over him." "No," Riley said, his face reddening as he spoke, "She looks like she's being controlled by him. I'm not letting them out of my sight." Riley caught up and ducked behind a large gravestone just in time to see Angel turn her around giving him a perfect view of her bare breasts. The vampire bent her over a gravestone, smoothing his hands over the exposed breasts and pinching her nipples. Riley's heart rose to his throat as the vampire roughly pulled her pants down, unzipped his own and entered her from behind. Her blonde hair streamed down her back as she moved against him, practically purring from his forceful thrusts. When the vampire moved to her throat, he stood and began walking in that direction, only to be pulled back by his two friends. "He's going to bite her!" Riley exclaimed as quietly as he could. His friends shook their heads at his hopeless love for the girl. "More like a love bite," Forrest said, focusing on her breasts rising and falling with her movements. Riley stepped between his friends and their view of his love, blocking her nakedness. It took several long moments for them to tear him away from the graveyard. They dragged him to the nearest bar and fed him liquor, telling him how evil and untrustworthy women were. As they were speaking, Riley Finn was only thinking one thing: that bastard had to be taken from the picture. Buffy was very obviously in an unhealthy relationship that was going to get her hurt. And he would do anything to keep her from being hurt. *** if
there's anyone at home at your place, darling Doyle couldn't sense vampires. Brachen demons never really had that ability. But he could sense when something was very seriously wrong and it wasn't just because he had a vision only a half hour before. When he walked into the mansion, he immediately knew that something was wrong. Someone was there and it wasn't Buffy and Angel. "Well, well," Spike said, stepping out from the shadows, "I was looking for Angel and The Slayer, but here you are instead." "He's a demon," Drusilla said, clutching Spike's arm, "We can't even eat him." "This isn't right," Doyle said nervously as he backed toward the door, "The vision was not of me being caught by you. It was Buffy and Angel in danger, not me." "The Powers That Be," Spike said with a grin, "Are interesting bastards. They don't show everything, do they, love?" "Naughty higher powers," she said, walking closer to Doyle, "They twist things, make them fuzzy, but I understand." "Understand what?" Doyle said, choking out his words. "Why we need you, mate," Spike said, as he crossed the room more quickly than Doyle was expecting. The rush of speed wasn't needed to capture the frozen half-demon, but it was effective. Seconds later he was lying on the floor with the vampire pair looking down on him. *** Part Eight - "Preservation" *** all
the anger and the eloquence are bleeding into fear Doyle wished he had stayed in bed with his wife instead of trying to warn Angel about the danger at hand, mostly because his vision was nothing compared to what was happening to him now. He had a rope around each wrist and ankle. At the end of each rope was a minion, pulling his section of braided cord, in an attempt to cause as much pain as possible. He wasn't sure if they were actually trying to pull his limbs from his torso or not. Either way, his demon had emerged and the blue spikes were standing out from his face, pulling his skin painfully. Francis Doyle never really understood why the angrier he got or the more pain he was in, the more the emergence of his demon ached. It started at the base of each spike and shot out through his body, replacing pain with anger in short, jabbing strokes. Right now he was in pain and he was angry and the half Brachen demon inside him refused to go away. "Spike," Drusilla said, standing over Doyle with a smile, "He's pointy all over. The demon hurts him...just like we're hurting him." "That's great, pet," Spike answered, grinning. From the moment he became a demon he was obsessed with the blood and violence that came with the path he was on. Angelus worshiped artfully crafted kills and carefully executed torture. William the Bloody thought that took too fucking long. He looked down on the half breed stretched across the floor, screaming in pain as the minions pulled him a little tighter each second he refused to talk. Now that, that was a good time! Immediate and to the point, just like he liked it. "Let's try again," Spike said, strutting back and forth in front of his victim, "Where's the brat?" "Why do you even want the kid?" Doyle asked through gritted teeth, "He's just a baby." "He's the spawn of two vampires, moron," Spike answered, "And the legendary Destroyer in a prophecy that says we're all gonna be the fertilizer for his garden. You think we're just going to let him kill us? Where's the little fucker already? I'm bored." "I'm never gonna tell you where to find Angel's son," Doyle answered, gasping in pain in between each word. "That's a shame," he said, smiling in such a way that Doyle knew he wasn't sorry at all, "Guess we'll have to try harder to convince you. Boys?" The minions pulled back, tightening the tension on the rope just a fraction. They wanted to make sure he wasn't dismembered until they got the information they wanted. *** i
just light myself on fire Angel's kisses were addictive and the longer they continued, the more heated they became. At that rate, they weren't going to get home at all that night. He had just dressed her, only to undress her again. Her ruined pants lay on the grass, left next to where they laid intertwined in the grass. "We really should go," he said, resting his head on his elbow to look down at where she looked flushed, pleased and beautiful, lying on the soft ground. "Yeah, we should probably get your son from Cordelia and Doyle before they corrupt him too much," she agreed, but making no move to leave her lover. She scooted closer and kissed the arm that supported his head. He smoothed a hand over her side appreciatively. "He's not even a month old, love," he said, "I don't think they can corrupt him too much. He's safe there." "Cordelia could corrupt amoeba," Buffy snorted as she stood and began to dress for the second time that evening. "You two are going to have to get along sometime," he said, standing as well and straightening his own clothes. "Not really," she said, flashing him a bright smile, "I am civil to the infamous Queen C. You can't ask anything more from me." "Really?" he asked with mock disappointment, "I thought you two would grow to be such great friends that when you're little old ladies you'd be knitting side by side in the nursing home." "I won't be in a nursing home," Buffy said confidently, "If I live to be an old lady, I'll have my young-looking vampire lover to wait on me hand and foot." "I see," he said, nodding with a smile. Buffy and Angel walked toward the mansion hand in hand. She needed to change into new pants, since he had ripped them so efficiently during their bout in the graveyard. She snuck a glance over to him as they walked, wondering what he was thinking, wondering if he was going to leave again. She was more than overjoyed that they were back together, but the past few days had been overwhelming. Seeing Angel again, getting back together with him, the birth of his son, having sex with him again...it was all too much to swallow. Even though she had been joking earlier, she really was fishing for a reaction. She wanted him to tell her he would be there when she was an old lady. She wanted to be sure. "Are you okay?" Angel asked after a few minutes, feeling a bit strange about Buffy's uncharacteristic silence. "Yeah," she said, nodding uncertainly. "Really?" "No," she answered, "I was just thinking. We were so happy before. Everything was perfect and then you just snapped. You left me with no explanation except that you didn't love me and then you started setting your demon children on fire. How long before that happens again? How long before you leave me again?" "A second ago you were talking about me being with you when you were an old lady, now you're not sure? Buffy, I'm not leaving you again," he said, dropping her hand and turning to face her, "I know you don't understand what happened to me. If I could remember, I would be explaining it right now. But I don't and I can't. All I can tell you is that I love you and I'm not going any-" Buffy screamed and dropped to her knees as Angel fell to the ground, shaking from the voltage of a bright electric shock coming from the bushes. She hovered over him and looked to the shadows for the attacker, clutching Angel's arm as his demon appeared and a loud growl sounded from deep in his chest. *** all
these wasted dreams The evening was a paradox for Riley and his friends. The first problem was that Agent Finn was a few whiskey straights away from being in his right mind, but drunk or not he was still the commander of several of The Initiative's teams. Forrest and Graham tried to talk him out his irrational behavior, but after the sight of Buffy bent over that gravestone spreading for her demonic lover and the alcohol he had consumed, there was no talking him out of it. As lower ranking soldiers, they were forced to comply. Two teams suited up and were armed with weapons as they headed out into the night. Their commands were simple. Take out the vampire known as Angelus, seen earlier chasing The Slayer through Restfield Cemetery. He left out the part about Angel having a soul and his relationship with Buffy. It was privileged information and entirely unnecessary for them to carry out their duty. Riley, Forrest and Graham headed to the east side of the graveyard, near where the couple where last seen. They walked slowly, scanning the area in front of them for the pair. He couldn't believe his eyes when they were still on the property, near the edge. "Fire," he said in a low even voice. "Riley," Forrest interrupted, placing a hand on the barrel of his friend's weapon, "You do realize that Buffy just got him out of our complex. If we take him, if she even lets us take him, she's just going to come back for him." "She won't get him back this time," Riley said, jerking his gun away from his friend's hand and aiming again. "You can't be sure of that, man," Graham said, stepping closer. "Yes, I can," Riley said, "First, we separate them, then we stake him. This isn't a capture, boys, this is a kill." Aiming again, he fired and watched with gleeful pleasure as the vampire fell to the ground, writhing from the bolt of power racing through his body. He fired again as Buffy screamed, standing up and looking around her for her attackers. She spotted Riley and his two friends across the field and started to run toward them but stopped. Instead, she grabbed Angel and pulled him to his unsteady feet. "Come on," she urged, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, "We have to run." "Buffy," Angel groaned, lifting his feet unevenly as he tried to keep up with her pace, "It's your boyfriend." "He's not my boyfriend," Buffy shouted as she pulled him with her, "Come on, damn it. Run!" "All agents," Riley said into his walkie as he paged his teams, "Suspects sighted on the East side of Restfield Cemetery. They are traveling south-southeast through the woods. Initiative has accelerated to a kill, not a capture. Repeat. The vampire is to be taken out and the Slayer is not to be harmed." On the other side of the cemetery, the teams heard the command through the crackling waves. His voice came in and out but they all heard him clearly say, "Suspects sighted on the East side of Restfield Cemetery. They are traveling south-southeast through the woods. Initiative has accelerated to a kill, not a capture. Repeat. The vampire is to be taken out and the Slayer." Looking at each other in surprise, they turned in the direction indicated and prepared to take out not one of them, but both of them. *** this lonely spiral i've been in When the phone rang, Willow grumbled under her breath. She wanted nothing more than to make the telephone disappear and pretend she had never heard it. Actually, she had just the spell to do that, but fearing the danger that was always floating around the Hellmouth she moved away from her lover's side to pick up the extension. "Hello?" she asked, sleepily, not bothering to try to disguise her yawn. "Willow, it's Cordy. Is Buffy there?" "Dunno," Willow said, standing up and shuffling down the hall, "I'll go check. What's the emergency?" "Doyle never came home," Cordelia said, sounding as if she were near bursting into tears, "There's no answer at Angel's and I can't leave because of the baby. I've got a really bad feeling. He didn't call. He always calls." "Buffy's not here," Willow said, leaning tiredly against the doorframe, "Wait. She is now." The sound of the front door crashing open and slamming against the wall downstairs alerted Willow of her roommate's return and she moved toward the stairway. She glanced over her shoulder to see Tara standing behind her, mouthing the words, "What's wrong?" Willow shrugged in response and went to the top of the stairs, calling out, "Buffy? Is that you?" as she made her way down them. "It's me, Will!" Buffy called back, helping Angel onto the couch. Willow woke up completely when she saw Angel shaking slightly, looking paler than usual. "Cordy's on the phone," Willow said, handed the cordless to her friend, "She says Doyle's missing." *** you
got a piece of me Forrest and Graham ran along with their friend. As they followed the couple to Buffy's rented house on Revello drive, he alerted his teams of the destination without missing a pace. "Riley!" Forrest shouted, as they arrived to her house out of breath from the jog, "You can't go into a civilian's house to capture an HST. Even if you have a crush on the girl, you know there's no threat here. The vamp is defanged with a soul and you know it." "I don't know anything about that," Riley lied, giving his friend a dark, liquor enhanced glare, "And neither do you." He headed up the stairs, taking two at a time and kicked in her door, followed by his two friends and the teams that had just arrived at the doorstep. He stopped just inside the foyer, as he faced not a vampire and a Slayer, but Willow and Tara, standing tiredly in pajamas and holding hands. "Step aside, ladies," Riley ordered, "This is official government business." Holding up their clasped hands, they looked intently at the teams of uniformed men in front of them. Riley stepped forward, wrinkling his brow in confusion even as he flew back out of the door and onto the lawn, slamming into the bodies of his men, who began flying back as well, knocked into the grass from some unseen power coming from the pair of witches. Riley shook his head and began to stand up. He found himself tossed to the ground again, his body pressing into the ground. He glanced back up at the porch where the witches now stood and next to them was the vampire and The Slayer, both looking tired and angry. "You're not welcome here," Buffy said, angrily, "In fact, I wish you didn't even know that I exist." "Buffy, I'm just trying-" "I know what you're trying to do!" she shouted, placing a hand on Willow's shoulder for support and feeling Angel's arm wrap around her waist, "Leave here and don't come back!" "Buffy," Riley said, struggling to his feet again. "Willow," Buffy whispered, giving the okay that her redheaded friend was waiting for. Gathering the energy from all four of them together, connected physically and concentrating mentally, Tara and Willow began to chant in Latin. "What are you doing?" Riley asked, feeling a force of energy wrapping around him. It was suffocating and bright, although it had no color, no taste and no smell. He gasped for breath and heard his friends doing the same. Stumbling back, he looked around him where the grass itself seemed to sway and the trees bent over to take a closer look. The stars blurred in the sky, zipping around like drugged falling stars. He fell back and laid in the grass as the chanting continued, staring at those bursts of bright gases above him. The longer he laid there, the more the voices seemed to fade into the atmosphere until he could no longer hear them. The screaming soundless air, pounded at his face, pressing him against the ground. He felt the barrier keeping him on earth and yet he felt like he was falling, those stars shifting away from him, abandoning him. He closed his eyes to escape but he knew he was still falling, slipping away from consciousness. Hours later when he would awake, he and his team would head home, having no idea why they were there and who Buffy or Angel were. *** Part Nine - "Delivery" RATING: NC-17 - sex and violence *** anyway,
this change i've been feeling Doyle was sure he was dying. The blood of his human half, mixed with the demon he had carried with him since birth was staining the filthy floor of the factory. It dripped from his ankles and wrists, seeping into the ropes that bound him. He never really had a lot of regard for his life before he met Angel and Cordelia. Sure, he still liked to have a drink from time or time, or actually every day, but who's counting? Now, he cared about what he did with his life. He wanted to live to see his wife give birth to their child. He wanted to see his son or daughter grow up and love the world the way Cordy did. All the things he wished he had said to her, all the times he couldn't have said "I love you" just one more time seemed gone forever. He was going to die here, his body torn apart by demons who were more scared of a child than anything else. "One more time," Spike said, kicking Doyle in the side and enjoying his grunt of pain as the ropes stretched a little further, "If you want to keep your body in one piece you'll tell us where Angel's brat is!" "Why don't you ask me yourself, Spikey?" Angel said, strolling into the factory with Buffy, Willow and Tara by his side, "I know we've gotten off on the wrong foot lately, but you coulda called me buddy. What's a little fire between family?" "My Angel," Drusilla said, taking Spike's hand and stepping away, "You've found us already." "Had a little help, Dru," Angel said, twisting into the cold smile of his former demon, "And you know how I hate to ask for help. That's gonna cost you." Angel dashed toward his children while Buffy moved toward the minions, who had let the ropes drop. Doyle groaned in pain as he crashed down the few inches separating him from the floor. The four minions, as well as the three others standing around the room, rushed the four intruders. Willow and Tara knocked them away with magick as they rushed over to untie Doyle's hands and feet. Spike and Dru made it to the door as Angel screamed for them to stop, staking the undead bodies standing in his way. He knew from what Cordelia and Doyle had told him that he had torched Darla and Drusilla just as he had in the other world, but here, Spike had gotten a dose of the flame as well. A piece of Angel was overjoyed by that idea, even if this Spike hadn't slept with his girl. His biggest regret in both worlds was that he didn't take them all out when he had the chance. Why would he hesitate? Was it because in some twisted part of his mind he still thought of them as family? His Sire and the children that resulted from his demon half were immortal creations, carrying his blood through decades and centuries. They were Angelus' evil works of art, nursing his memories, knowing his lusts. He hadn't wanted to destroy them then, even if he wouldn't have admitted that to anyone else. Now that they were after his son, along with half of the rest of the world, he had to end it. All the killing, all the torture, all the years of blood that washed down their throats was his fault. He had to make them stop destroying life. It was interesting how creating a life could make everything light up in a completely different way. He plunged his stake into the vamp in front of him and cast a glance at his love as she did the same. The remaining minions were just enough of a hindrance for Spike and Drusilla to escape. He heard the ignition starting in a car and knew that they were heading for the town border. As the last minion floated to the floor, dusting his feet with already forgotten ash, he hurried to Doyle's side and looked over his seer friend. Blue, still coherent eyes looked up at him, filled with pain but still carrying his humorous personality. "Did you stop for coffee on the way to save me?" Doyle asked, hinting at how long they took to arrive as he accepted gratefully the help of Willow and Tara to stand. "Well, you know how fighting makes me thirsty," Angel said. "Didn't even bring me any," he said, groaning with each movement he was forced to take. "Thought you'd prefer to get some at the hospital," Angel said, helping him toward the door. "Yeah, it's so tasty there." Angel's cell phone rang as they made it outside the factory, which was eery in the way it wasn't burnt or scorched in any way. Apparently, in this dimension, Giles had never set it on fire. "Hello?" "Angel?" Cordelia said, "Did you find Doyle?" "Yeah," Angel said, moving toward his car as he spoke, "We're getting ready to take him to the hospital." "Can you stop by and pick up me and Connor?" she asked, panting over the phone. "Are you okay?" "If you think being in labor is okay, then yes, I'm fine," she snapped into the phone. *** i
am not worried Cordelia's screams of pain from her labor had been wafting through the hallways of the hospital for hours. Xander found himself wondering why they didn't sound proof those rooms. Weren't her shouts and profanity scaring the rest of the patients? Besides, her husband had to sit there in the wheelchair next to her bed. From the periodic crashing sounds and streams of sentences such as "I hate you," "This is all your fault," and "Never touch me again," he thought that Doyle probably wished he was still tied up and being tortured by Spike and Drusilla again. If he were Doyle, he would prefer vampiric torture than the wrath of Cordelia Chase every day of the week and twice on Sundays. It made perfect sense to Xander Harris that Cordelia would marry a half demon. Who else would be able to put up the kind of abuse she unleashed? He looked over at his own ex-demon and smiled. He knew that he had lucked out in more ways than one. Years ago when he had cheated on Cordelia with Willow, he thought he had made the worst mistake of his life. He did actually love the snobby girl. Sure, she was insufferable and difficult, but he knew what Doyle felt like when he was inside her arms. Sometimes, on days that he became a little thick in the head, he actually missed her. Not enough to pass up on his happiness with Anya though. Willow had been right a long time ago when she said he attracted the strangest women. Placing an arm around his fiancee and smiling, he kissed her temple. He wouldn't have it any other way. "I don't understand this practice, Xander," Anya complained, shifting uncomfortably in the plastic waiting room chair. "Which practice? Having babies? I thought you wanted us to have children after we got married," he said, squeezing her shoulder. For Xander, even though the thought of fatherhood was terrifying, he still loved the idea of seeing Anya pregnant and carrying his child. "No, what I mean is," she quipped sternly, "Waiting in this little room, sitting in these cheap chairs while your ex gives birth to a child while screaming. Why are we here?" "I'm supporting my friends," he said and then amended, "We're supporting our friends." "She's not a friend," Anya said, "She's someone who should stay away from you. You used to love her. Now you love me. We shouldn't be here." "It's okay, An," Xander said, glancing at Willow who was trying not to laugh, "I'm not interested in Cordelia." "Fine," she said, "I'll continue to wait but I don't think this is necessary." *** staring at this yellow haired girl Angel buckled his newborn son into the car and waited for Buffy to hop in before starting the ignition and heading back to the mansion. He was glad he was able to get a child's seat and his son's first exam while he waited for Cordelia to have her baby. The barrage of questions he received was baffling to the vampire as he tried to explain where his child had come from to the staff who had no record of his existence. He was going to tell them that his child was born in LA in a different hospital and his mother was still there, but thankfully Buffy butted in and took over. He looked on in disbelief as she stepped up and claimed Connor for her own son, telling them that he was born across town in the mansion with the help of a midwife. She lied with such fervor and took on such authority that he stood back, dazed and proud of his lover. She asked for a thorough exam to make sure he was in excellent health and then went on to talk them into creating a birth certificate. Once at the mansion, he stared at the piece of paper with Buffy's name there as his child's mother and his name as the father. With his name there in black, bold print, it was almost as if he were a real, live person. His last name was typed neatly on the form, a name he hadn't even thought of in a hundred years or more. He still wondered how Buffy managed to circumvent their request for identification from him. She had a way of speaking to the nurses, cooing over the child and ignoring the questions she didn't want to answer that made him smile at her with the memory, sleeping in his bed, curled up with Connor nestled against her. For the first time, he felt like he might have a chance at a real life. He made a mental note to ask Doyle where The Powers That Be could be contacted in this dimension to ask them about Shanshu. He wondered idly where Wesley was, if he should be angry with a man who hadn't committed any betrayal to him in this world. Wesley could decipher the scroll and tell him of his Shanshu, if there was such a thing anymore. He shed his clothes and crawled into bed, wrapping his body around his lover's and reaching out to caress his child's warm cheek before closing his eyes. His last thought as he drifted into sleep was seeking out Holtz and Wolfram and Hart to see if they posed any threat to his son in this dimension. Now that he had the knowledge he hadn't had last time, he knew that he could protect Connor. He could watch him live and grow up this time. *** so come dance this silence down through the morning Buffy woke up first and snuggled into Angel's arms as she looked down on Connor, whose eyes were blinking open. She picked him up and scooted out of bed, heading to the kitchen to make him a bottle. It seemed so natural to care for Angel's son. As she waited for the microwave to heat up the formula, she glanced down at the birth certificate listing her as his mother. She hadn't thought about it or even asked Angel if that's what he wanted, she just sort of did it. She went into the nursery to feed Connor and let the idea sink in that she was a part of this child's life now. If she stayed with Angel then she would be his mother. It was a strange realization. What if Angel didn't want her to be his son's mother? She closed her eyes and rocked the baby, listening to him suckle on the bottle and thought back on the night before. The look on Angel's face as she claimed to be Connor's mother and the way he stared at the birth certificate with that silly little smile on his lips told her that she did the right thing. "So, little guy," she said, opening her eyes and looking down on him, "Guess we're stuck with each other for a while." She continued rocking him until he finished the bottle, rocked him and set him in his crib, reveling at how quickly Angel and Doyle had put the room together. She could almost hear Cordelia shouting orders and telling them to change things around. What a funny little world she was going to be a part of...again. *** i
stay at home with my disease Angel woke up in the late morning, having slept like a dead man, er undead man, after his evening of sex, electrocution, vampire slayings, child birth and physical exams. He moved to stretch and found that he couldn't move his arms, which were above his head in a position he didn't normally sleep in. The clinking sound of metal against metal made him open his eyes and look up to find that he was handcuffed to his bed. He looked around the room urgently, fearing the worst, until he saw Buffy leaning against the wall, clothed in a black silk neglige. His son was no longer in his bed. The only live person in the room was the blonde goddess smiling wickedly at him. "Morning, lover," she crooned, crossing the room to his naked, bound form, "I'm glad you sleep naked. It makes this so much easier for me." "Um...I'm glad?" he asked, curious to the outcome of the torture ahead. "See," she said, slipping the silk off of her body as she stood next to the bed and allowed him a second to take in her naked skin, "I spent almost a year alone and upset because you left me, wasting my time with human men who didn't interest me." "What men?" Angel growled with jealous, gripping the bedposts angrily. "Wouldn't you like to know?" she said, pooling the silk over his exposed lap as she leaned in to bite his lower lip. "Yes," he growled again. "Let's not change the subject," she whispered, leaving a trail of wet kisses on his chest, "I spent almost a year without you, thinking about how I would torture you if I ever saw you again. There are so many choices. Where do you think I should start?" "Buffy," Angel gasped as she gripped his hardening cock through the silk neglige she had dropped in his lap and began stroking him through the material. "So much revenge, so little time," she said, leaning in to bite his nipple, leaving the impression of her teeth on his skin. "Baby, please," he groaned, lifting his hips as her little hand jogged his cock up and down, squeezing him through the silk. "Please what?" she asked, moving the silk away and smiling at his whimper from the loss of her touch. "Take off the handcuffs," he said, "Let me touch you." "No can do, honey," she said, shaking her blonde head. She lowered her head and he watched as her tongue darted out and flicked over the tip of his cock, "You're mine this morning." He rumbled with pleasure as she wrapped her mouth around him, squeezing the base of his cock with her hand. She moved up and down on his lap for a minute or two until she pulled back, removing all contact. He begged for her continue but she smiled and shook her head. She was in control and he was going to lay there. She straddled him and guided him into her heated depths. She didn't move at first but flexed her inner muscles, delighting in the look on his face as she squeezed him inside her. Finally, after seconds that he would have sworn were minutes, she moved, bringing herself up and down in slow, movements. He watched her face, her rising breasts and the way she tilted her head back in pleasure as she moved on him. Minutes later, she stopped again, sliding off of his lap and away from him. He widened his eyes in shock as she licked up his chest, kissing him deeply as she squeezed his cock again with her hand, sliding the pad of her thumb up and down the underside of him. "God, Buffy," he begged, "Please." "I told you baby," she whispered, sucking small sections of his length between her lips before huffing tiny breaths over the tip of him, "This about me getting what I want." "What do you want?" he cried out in a hoarse, broken voice as she took the first couple of inches of him between her lips before moving away again. "I want to hear you scream," she said with a smile, placing two dainty kisses on each of his balls, "I want you to beg for me." "Done. I'll scream, baby," he gasped as she took as much of him as she could inside her mouth. He felt the tip of his cock tapping the back of her delicate throat and he felt his head spinning a few minutes later when she removed contact again. "Yes," she said, straddling him and taking him inside her again, repeating the same process as before, "You will." She alternated between sucking, licking, squeezing and riding him for over forty-five minutes until he screamed and begged for her to fuck him. She did not relent for several minutes, delighting in his torture until she finally plunged down and increased her movements while he growled underneath, jerking his hips up to bury himself deeper inside her. She slammed down, rotating her hips as she moved down to kiss him. He lifted his head attacking her and plunging his tongue inside her mouth as he gasped for breaths he didn't need. "You are evil, baby," he said after they climaxed together and she reached in the night stand to collect the keys and unlock him. "You deserved it," she said, resting her head against his chest when he was free. He wrapped his arms around her, thankful to be able to touch her. "Yeah, I guess I did," he admitted, kissing the top of her head. "You know you did," she said as Connor began to cry in the next room. She looked up at him and smiled, "Your turn." *** THE END! Please let me know what you thought of this. Mai Shine, I really hope you liked it! *** THE CHALLENGE: From:
Mai Shine I agree, I like Buffy and Angel fics that was what I was going to do anyway. Ok, it has to include the entire group. i.e. Buffy, Angel, Connor, Spike, Drusilla, Cordelia, Willow, Xander, Giles, Tara, Anya, Faith, Wesley, Dawn, Joyce, Buffy's Dad and I cant remember the black guy's name on Angels team. Ok, but you can choose from these: One
couple has to get married. Plot-Choose from one A Warrior Demon Princess is out to do something bad she needs the help of one of the team or one of the team as a sacrifice. Angel becomes Angelus and turns the Slayer. The team has to choose whether to give her a soul or kill her. Some of the group are kidnaped. The guys have to find out who by and why. Can it also be along story cause I hate the short ones? Well, you've got a week. Good luck and thank you. Home - Navigation - Affiliates - Random - Fanfiction - Links - Updates - About
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