Slayers and Witches and Vampires, Oh My!

Part One

DISCLAIMER: Nope. I still don't own them.
DISTRIBUTION: Of course you can have it! Please let me know though.

SPOILERS: Completely AU. Set 4 years after college graduation, Buffy & Willow have become the government's secret weapon. Doyle and Tara never died and Faith is not evil.

PAIRING: B/A, of course! Our favorite couple are married, with no fear of the losing of the soul. OK?

FEEDBACK: Please let me know what you think of this!

LYRICS: All lyrics are from Tori Amos



an angel's face is tricky to wear constantly

"I'm here to see Buffy Summers," Angel said politely, standing in the main lobby of the FBI as if he were in the grocery store asking where the bakery was.

"I'm sorry sir," the receptionist answered, "There's no one here by that name."

The receptionist was an armed guard with a bullet proof vest underneath his suit and tie. Angel made out the outline of the gun in his shoulder holster and knew his finger was poised on the alarm button beneath the desk.

"I suggest you call her and tell her that Angel is here to see her," he said with an easy smile.

"My apologies," the receptionist said, returning with a more guarded smile, "I can't call a person who doesn't work here."

Angel sighed. He hated that she wouldn't just work for him, but no, she had to work for the FBI, the CIA, anti-terrorist groups and everyone else who needed an "expert" for odd situations. She wanted an independent career, even if she lived the rest of her life for him.

The worst part of it was trying to get to her when she was in a meeting and had turned off her cell phone. She had long since stopped giving him clearance to the places she worked - partially because they never admitted that she worked there, so they wouldn't check the list and partially because they always got nosey about who he was and tried to do background searches on him. It was kinda difficult to explain to a top secret government agency that her husband was a creature of the night. Even if they knew about demons, they usually didn't understand the whole married to a vampire thing.

Tonight he didn't have time for these run arounds and pleasantries. There was a massive nest two miles away, festering underground and he couldn't do it alone. He needed The Slayer.

Using vampiric speed, he hauled the man over the wide desk before he could press the silent alarm and cracked his balding head against the counter. Angel walked around and easily found the release button that opened a special door, which slid out from the wall. He strolled into the passageway and closed the door quietly behind him.


guess i thought i could never feel the things i feel

Buffy glanced at her watch as the FBI's "special" case unit lead agent debriefed her and her "associate" Willow Rosenberg in the conference room along with seven other agents. She wasn't sure why debriefing even included the word "brief." There was never anything brief about it, especially when it was a government organization.

She and Willow had made a badass team in the last several years. After college, they found that their Hellmouth education proved very useful in the real world. Together they were the most powerful women on the planet and nearly unstoppable. Of course, none of the people they worked for knew that they were Slayer and Witch. They just knew that these were two women to be reckoned with...and feared.

Buffy quickly gained a reputation as a martial arts and weapons expert. Willow had special "gifts" in the form of extra sensory perception. No one ever found out how extensive the two women's powers went. Since the Initiative was destroyed and all the files classified, Buffy's Slayerness had never been revealed among the ranks. Only a handful of people remained who knew what they really were.

Every time they started a new job, they had to prove themselves. Seeing the pair of pretty and petite young girls always triggered a bout of snickering. These two waifs were the powerful secret weapons? Yeah, right.

"What are you talking about?" Buffy snapped irritably at the department head. He was talking as if he knew how to kill a demon - any demon - when his theories had actually been pulled out of his pompous ass.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Summers?" Agent Wilder asked.

"A Molshach demon can only be killed one way," Buffy snapped, feeling Willow's hand on her arm in an attempt to calm her, "At least look something up before you starting spouting bullshit."

"What she means is that we have already performed the research on the subject," Willow said, shooting a what are you doing look at her friend. Buffy hadn't seen Angel in two days and she had been on edge as she rounded her second sunset without her lover. He had been deep sewer hunting for some nests that Doyle had a vision about, but last night he had not resurfaced. Even though she knew he was alive, not seeing him was making her crazy. She wanted nothing more to leave the meeting, kill the damn demon and make sure Angel was okay. It was a joke that they were spending so much time in the not-so-brief debriefing when they could have taken out the threat and made hot cocoa already.

"I see," Agent Wilder replied, pretending to be unfazed even though he was incredibly pissed from the blonde's outburst. When he entered the department the month before all he heard about was Buffy Summers this and Willow Rosenberg that. Every time someone sneezed, the entire department begged him to call in the two very expensive "experts." He already had the sneaking suspicion that most of the men in the office were in love with one or both of them. The women in the department idolized the pair with some sort of twisted woman power thing. It was sickening.

When Buffy and Willow walked in, they were greeted warmly by the entire staff. The damn janitors loved them. The cafeteria workers gave them food for free! Admittedly, they were both beautiful, but let's not be ridiculous. They were just two little girls barely out of college. What could they possibly do that was so earthshatteringly special?

"If you would give us the coordinates," Willow added, squeezing Buffy's arm as The Slayer started to open her mouth again, "We will be glad to take care of the infestation immediately."

"It's a bit more-" he started to say when red lights began flashing all over the building. Buffy knew that Angel was in the building about thirty seconds before the guards started going apeshit. She cursed under her breath and stood, heading for the door.

"Ms. Summers," Agent Wilder said, holding his hand up as if the gesture would in any way halt The Slayer, "This is a code red. You are not to be involved in this situation. It's an issue to be handled by the staff."

Buffy swung open the door and stood aside so that he could see the very large, very angry dark haired man that had breached the top floor easily. He had been shot three times and was flinging agents off his body with amazing speed.

"Everyone stop!" Buffy yelled, causing the room to screech to a standstill and look at her in confusion. She turned to Agent Wilder and smiled calmly, "Considering your men are shooting my husband, I thought I might get involved."

Willow smiled smugly at the agent before following Buffy out to where Angel stood fuming and desperately trying to hide the demon that was coming dangerously close to the surface. Buffy wanted to be angry at him for causing such a huge scene as well as breaking into this supposedly tightly sealed building, but she was so relieved to see him there and in one piece, except for a few bullet wounds that is, she just couldn't hold back her smile.

"Hi, sweetheart," she said, weaving around the confused FBI agents, all still waiting to charge. They had all seen the tiny blonde snap bones with her delicate hands and fight unbeatable odds. They had seen the redhead walk out of situations that anyone else would have died in. What they hadn't seen was a man take three bullets and stay standing without even a groan of pain. His wife, of all people, didn't even seem upset that her husband had been shot!

"Hi, baby," he said, bending to peck her lips, "Sorry to drop by unannounced, but I need you and Willow right away."

Two days without Buffy and Angel was thinking that maybe he had slightly overreacted. He probably could have found a less violent way into the building, like maybe explaining to the guard that he was her husband.

"I'm sorry. I'll have to cut our meeting short," she said, turning to Agent Wilder and trying not to laugh at his expression of horror.

"If you page us with the coordinates," Willow added, "We'll take care of the situation."

Threading an arm around Angel, Buffy heard his slight wince as they headed for the door. She stopped when they reached the exit and turned around, "Oh, if you guys could not shoot my husband in the future, I'd appreciate it. Thanks!"

They left the room behind, still and stunned. Agent Wilder walked slowly into the room where the trio had been standing. He paused for a couple of minutes before turning to his research assistant, "Find out everything you can about those three."


i know i know you well, well better than i used to

"You really are an asshole," Buffy said eight hours, a large vampire nest and a score of demons later.

"Which part of what happened makes me an asshole?" he asked, taking off his leather jacket and eyeing the holes in it.

"I know it seems like a long time ago, but you did break into the FBI at sundown tonight. Remember?" she said, pushing her finger through one of the holes in his jacket and wiggling it at him.

"Sorry," he mumbled, tossing it aside and pulling her into his arms.

"Me too," she answered, her voice muffled against his chest, "There was also the night I had to sleep all by myself with no call from my husband to tell me he was still alive."

"You knew I was alive," he said, kissing her gently before pulling away and stripping down to his boxers. He pulled her with him to the bed and groaned as he laid back on it. Buffy had long since taken the bullets out of him, but the wounds hadn't healed completely.

"I was still afraid," Buffy answered, using his punctured chest as a pillow.

"Sorry, love," he mumbled and sighed as if the her nearness was a salve for his injuries. Angel began to settle in as he did when he was about to fall asleep.

"You can't fall asleep yet," she said, sitting up.

"Why not?" he groaned, opening his eyes and squinting sleepily at her. She brushed her long hair aside from her neck to give him a clue.

"Nope," he said, trying to turn over. She never really grasped just what it meant to him that she offered her blood, and bared her neck for the taking. Even if he refused her, every time it happened, he felt a rush of love and guilt that overwhelmed him.

"You're hurt," she argued, pressing him back against the mattress.

"Don't care," he mumbled, closing his eyes again.

"Dammit Angel," Buffy swore, "Haven't you filled your asshole quota for this week? Can we just not fight about it this once?"

"Nope," he repeated.

"You'll heal quicker."

"Uh-uh," he grunted, turning onto his side successfully this time.

"I don't like you very much today," she fumed, crossing her arms and glaring down at him. Unfortunately, Angel had already fallen asleep and the slumbering vampire didn't benefit from her dirty look or from the smile that inched across her face a few seconds later. She caressed his face for a moment, thankful for his existence. She stood up and stripped off her clothes before climbing back in bed and meshing her back against his wounded chest. His arms snaked around her and pulled her close to him.

"Faker," she whispered as she realized he hadn't been asleep after all.

"Love you," he whispered back. Finally having her in his arms, he let sleep take him.


getting off, getting off while they're all downstairs

Buffy woke in the late afternoon with the simultaneous feeling of Angel's arousal pressing insistently against her and his large hand moving over her naked body. She grunted a complaint as sleep left her and she caught his hand at her breast. Intertwining her fingers with his, she held his hand still and snuggled in to go back to the dreamland she desperately wanted more of.

Vampires aren't known for being brushed off easily and Angel was no exception. He swept her hair away from her neck and kissed the warm place the golden strands had covered. He moved to her bare shoulder, nibbling on it before drifting along her upper arm in more of a caress than a kiss.

"Tired," she complained even as she began rubbing her ass against the harden silk of his boxer shorts. Using their intertwined hands, he moved her own hand over her breast, watching as her nipple hardened. She released his hand, allowing him the freedom to roam over her body. He explored her skin as if he hadn't already memorized it and she rolled over on her back to give him better access.

His boxers drifted to the floor and he amused himself by laving her breasts, nibbling and sucking, leaving her increasingly wet core untended to. She waited impatiently for him to move down from her breasts to her aching core but was left waiting long enough for her to moan impatiently, "Angel, please."

"What, love?" he asked, focusing his attention on her breasts and pretending he had no idea what she was talking about.

"You have to...please...touch me," she moaned.

"I am touching you," he answered, catching one erect nipple between his teeth and delighting in her groan of pleasurepain. His cock throbbed and it took almost all of his willpower not to enter her but he loved the built up tension that was well rewarded later.

"Angel," she panted again, "Please."

"Please what?" he asked, kissing her without touching any other place but her breasts and her lips. He loved that it always took his lover long moments before she could tell him what she wanted. But God did he love it more when she finally did.

"I need to feel you," she whispered.

"Where? Tell me what you want. Tell me how you want it," he growled against her neck. He nearly purred as he smelled her arousal increasing. The sensual aroma of her filled his nostrils and he stilled himself from shaking in need for her.

"Touch my pussy," she whispered, almost embarrassed by saying the words, but more turned on that she had. She loved this game as well, loved that he made her go outside of her comfort zone, bringing them even closer together. She was rewarded when his hand moved down and slipped between her dripping folds. He moved lightly there, barely touching her. She groaned in protest, lifting her hips to press against him.

"Tell me," he demanded, pinching her nipple roughly with his free hand, "I'll do whatever you want me to, baby. You just have to tell me. I want to hear you say it."

"I want to feel you inside me," she whimpered, "Please Angel."

He pushed two fingers just inside her opening, holding her back as she lifted her hips to push him in deeper. He circled slowly, allowing his free hand to move over her belly and breasts.

"Deeper," she said, still speaking in whispers. He moved in slightly deeper, easily gliding in and out.

"Deeper," she panted, "All the way."

He obeyed, pressing his two fingers all the way in and back out again, still moving slowly, forcing her to give him more instruction. He wanted so badly to give up the game and fuck her with all he was worth, needed to ease the throbbing want of her, but he forced himself to wait.

"Angel," she begged, heaving breaths as she spread wider for him, "I can't..."

"What do you want?" he repeated, lowering his mouth between her thighs, "You want me to taste you?"

"God Yes!" she cried. He placed wet kisses on her outer lips before tentatively licking her clit, barely touching it as he continued to move his fingers inside her. Then he waited for her to give him more instruction.

"Dammit Angel," she moaned, "have to do it again."

He smiled innocently at her groan of frustration as he lapped her clit one more time and waited.

"Don't stop," she demanded, "Keep going. Suck my clit. Please baby, you're killing me."

He bent down again and following her instruction, he continued the slow movement of his fingers inside her, twisting them as he slid in and out as he sucked her clit between his lips, nursing gently there.

"Harder," Buffy begged, lifting her hips, "Make me come. Need to..."

She couldn't finish her sentence as he finally consented to the pressure he knew she needed, sucking roughly and nipping her swollen bud with his teeth as he almost involuntarily increased the speed of his invasion of her. She shuddered and bucked beneath him as she climaxed, begging him not to stop.

When he finally released her, he wanted to do what he usually did, which was enter her while she was still spasming. He loved the feel of her vaginal walls clenching and flexing around his cock as he began to fuck her, but today he was keeping with the game. He knelt between her thighs and waited, but was taken completely by surprise when The Slayer grabbed him and pulled him on top of her.

"Fuck me," she said in her womanly growl. He entered her immediately, needing it as much as she did. She reached around and placed her hands on his firm ass, pulling him in deeper.

"Fuck me harder," she cried as he began moving harder and faster inside her, "Make it hurt, baby."

He obeyed, unleashing inhuman strength on his lover, crashing against her as she moved up to meet his thrusts. Each stroke caressed her already sensitive clit and moments later she came again. Gifted with another of her orgasms and incredibly turned on by the lovemaking session, he let go, spilling his cold seed inside her. He rolled them over so that she was blanketing him, reeling in the aftermath sex and the sensation of her body heat streaming into his undead skin.

"God, I love you," she said with her face pressed against his chest, enjoying the coolness of him.

"I love you, too" he answered, holding her tightly against his chest, wondering idly if his wounds were healed or not. If they weren't, he sure as hell couldn't feel them.


tell me is your city paved with gold

"Somebody just got their brains fucked out," Faith said with a wry smile to Doyle as Angel entered the lobby. Buffy had just left with Willow to report on their success the night before with the Molshach demons and Angel was left with two jokers to deal with.

"Morning," he replied, walking through the kitchen for breakfast, even though it was late in the afternoon.

"So, did you just forget that we were here or do you not care?" Doyle called in, laughing.

"I don't care," Angel answered honestly, returning with a glass of blood, "And this is my home, in case you forgot."

"Buffy certainly didn't," Doyle answered, shifting in his seat. Being half demon himself, he could still smell the lingering sex in the air and it was enough for him to want to go out and find his ex-wife for a friendly rematch of spousely fun.

"Shut up," Angel said with a I just got laid grin and then asked, "What's new?"

"We were kinda hoping to distract you from that question," Faith answered losing her smile for a grim expression.

"What now?" Angel asked, leaning against the counter sipping the blood.

"People been askin' questions," Doyle answered, "I think your little FBI break in started something."

"Great," Angel muttered, "I take 3 bullets, battle demons all night, argue with my wife and now I'm under investigation."

"It's kinda your fault," Faith answered, "And that didn't sound like arguing to me."

"Did you hear me when I said ‘shut up'?" Angel asked.

"Nope," the alternate Slayer answered, "I musta missed that part."


Part Two - "Old Friends"

SPOILERS: Completely AU. Set 4 years after college graduation, Buffy & Willow have become the government's secret weapon. Doyle and Tara never died and Faith is not evil. Our favorite couple are married, with no fear of the losing of the soul. OK?


through the life force and there goes her friend

"Can you say ‘fucking jerk?'" Buffy demanded of her friend once they were safely outside of the front doors of the FBI.

"Yes, but I try not to," Willow said honestly, "Buffy, Agent Wilder was just trying to-"

"Piss me off? ‘How's your husband, Ms. Summers,'" she mocked, "‘He didn't look too hurt to me.' I would love to show him how a hard piece metal feels when it-"

"Buffy," Willow warned, pulling her towards the car, "You're right outside the FBI. Maybe you shouldn't be threatening agents."

"Screw him. I'm just glad we're done with that assignment! Now we can move on to better things," Buffy said as she climbed in the passenger side. For a woman of her strength and ability, Willow thought it was humorous that she had never bothered to get her driver's license.

"Like food? I'm hungry," Willow said, trying to change the subject, "Are you?"

"Let me guess," Buffy mused, cheering slightly simply because it was impossible to stay angry in Willow's presence, "Veggie wraps?"

"Is that okay?" Willow asked with that little light of hope in her bright green eyes that made it impossible to say no.

"Sure. Why not?" Buffy relented, "We've only had them for dinner every night this week. It wouldn't be right to break our record."

Buffy couldn't imagine doing this job without her best friend. Not only was Willow almost as knowledgeable as Giles now, but her Wiccan powers had saved the day more than once. Neither of those reasons were really why Buffy wanted her around though. Willow always seemed to put an entirely different spin on the world. As she got older, she never stopped looking at the world through excited eyes and as much as Buffy wanted to be like that, she was never going to shrug the weight of the world. Willow kept the balance and was a constant reminder of what they were supposed to be saving.

Buffy watched as Willow bounced out of the car and scooted into the wrappy place where she loved to eat. Pulling out her cell phone, Buffy found that she had missed a call from Angel. She smiled at the phone as she called him, knowing she shouldn't bother checking her messages first. He never left a message, even when it was life or death. She had a sneaking suspicion that he didn't leave them because he didn't know how to check his own voicemail. She felt a giggle rising up in her as she listened to the phone ring.

"Angel Investigations," Faith's voice sternly announced on the other end. She refused to add the "we help the hopeless" crap on the end of it. Buffy still cracked a smile when she remembered the way her sister Slayer stared at Angel when he suggested it, as if he had grown a third eye. She told him in no uncertain terms that she would answer the phone, but she wasn't a secretary. He should be glad that she didn't just say "hello." Doyle tried a couple of times when he answered the phone, but he always seemed to fumble it. Eventually, the idea was dropped altogether.

"Hey," Buffy said, smiling at the memory.

"Hey B," Faith said, "Lookin' for Angel?"

"Yeah, is he there?" Faith, always the discreet girl, dropped the phone on the desk with a loud clunk and shouted across the hotel for Angel.

counting your bees. oh me honey like one two three


"Are you in your office?" Buffy asked, looking through the window at Willow talking to the girl behind the counter in the shop across the street. She wouldn't be surprised if they already considered each other friends.

"Yeah," he said, lifting his feet to the desk top and crossing them at the ankle, "I have an appointment in about 5 minutes and then I'm done for the day unless Doyle has a vision. Are you coming home?"

"Willow's picking up food and then I'll be on my way."

"Veggie wraps?" he asked with a chuckle.

"What else?" Buffy answered, "I think I might turn into a tortilla before the end of the month."

"How was your day?" he asked, settling his head against the back of the chair, wishing she was already there.

"I thought about you all day," she said huskily. Buffy was feeling a little evil after her tiring afternoon and decided to take it out on her husband. You hurt the ones you love, right?


"I was wet all day thinking about how you woke me up this morning," she answered, knowing that what she was about to do was evil, but he deserved it. She wanted him aroused for her. She could imagine him trying to hide his obvious excitement from his appointment and the thought made her grin wickedly.

"It was really afternoon," he said, gulping for unneeded air.

"You think anyone noticed that I wasn't listening to them? All I could do was think about getting home to you."

"Buffy," Angel said, glancing up at the door nervously, "I can't talk about this right now. I'm going to be...distracted when our new case comes in."

"Distracted?" Buffy asked lightly, "Like being surrounded by all those men with my pussy dripping for you? Do you think any of them noticed how hot I was, that my nipples were hard underneath my shirt?"

"Baby," Angel groaned, dropping his feet to the floor, sliding behind the desk and gripping the phone tightly in his hand, "My appointment is going to be here any minute."

"I can almost feel your hands on my body," she whispered, hoping Willow would take her time. She was loving the hell out of this and wasn't ready to stop yet. Making Angel squirm is something that was a difficult thing to do - if you weren't Buffy, that is, "I can almost feel your cock inside me.... What if I walked in right now?"

"Right now?" he asked hoarsely.

"Would you rip my clothes off?" she asked, "Would you bend me over your desk, baby? Can't you imagine me ass in the air...spreading my legs for you? Can you picture me begging you to fuck me like I did this morning? I'm ready for you, Angel...right now..."

"God, Buffy, please come home," he growled, his voice thick with want.

"What if I reached under my skirt while I'm waiting for Willow," she continued throatily, "I could pretend my fingers are yours as I-"

"Okay, ma'am," Angel interrupted loudly, as he heard Doyle greeting his appointment in the lobby, "Please come in any time and we'll attend to your needs."

"Promise?" she teased.

"Come home," he growled before hanging up the phone. He peeked out into the lobby and silently cursed his wife for her cruelty as he donned his leather jacket to cover his obvious erection. He paused for a second more to collect his senses before going out the greet the guests.


got a cloud sleeping on my tongue
he goes then it goes
and kiss the violets as they're waking up

Buffy held her phone gently in her hand, smiling at the mental image she had of Angel trying to be cordial with a raging hard on. It was beautiful. She jumped when the phone buzzed in her hand and she glanced at the number that was displayed before answering, "Hello Cordelia."

"I don't understand why people have to call me when you have a phone," the brunette complained.

"Because you're my secretary, Cordy," Buffy answered calmly as Willow climbed back into the car and set a sack of food on her lap, "That's what secretaries do. They answer phones, take messages, you know?"

"When I finally get my big break, you'll be answering my phone."

"Sure," Buffy said, "Whatever. Is there a message or are you just calling to bitch?"

"Of course there's a message."

"And? What's the message?"

"Routine top secret mumbo jumbo," she answered, "This time ‘Mr. Smith' called and said you knew who he is."

"Right," Buffy said, seeing her erotic night with Angel quickly disappearing, "Anything else?"

"Yes," Queen C snapped, "I want a raise."

"You don't even have to sit in an office. Everyone calls your cell phone," Buffy explained, "I've gotta go. Could you call Angel and tell him I got called in? Also, please stop by the hotel this week and do the filing, okay? And Cordy? Use the alphabet."

Buffy heard her friend's exaggerated sigh as she hung up without saying goodbye. She turned to Willow and looked at her for a second, silently begging her to make the next assignment go away but even her wiley witchy friend couldn't make everything disappear. Buffy's fingers flew over the buttons of her phone as she dialed into the secure line. A monotone voice answered the line, "Smith Enterprises."

"Relay 43-51627," Buffy said.

"Hello, Mrs. Summers," the woman said, raising her voice half a step, "Mr. Smith is expecting your call. One moment please."

Buffy waited as a series of clicks tapped out over the line. She always thought it would be nice if they could put some music over that or something. She would have to remember to mention that.

"Hello?" a warm, familiar voice answered finally.

"Xand," Buffy said, "What's the what?"

"Need you, Buff," he answered grimly, "and in a right now kinda way."

"You know, you have horrible timing," Buffy complained as Willow pulled out into post-rush hour traffic.

"You and Dead Boy have plans?"

"We never have plans," Buffy answered, "cause people like you are always calling me. And by the way, why did you choose ‘Mr. Smith' as your code name? Could you be something more interesting? What's wrong with ‘Mr. Harris' anyway? Remind you too much of your dad?"

"Buffy," Xander said, "You're not grasping the whole code name thing, are ya? I can't use my real name ‘cause then it's not code."

"Cordy would just love to know that she just gave me a message from you."

"I'm sure she would."


someone's knockin on my kitchen door. leave the wood outside

"Where are you going?" Doyle asked Angel as he headed out the door behind the too pleasant looking couple with a demon problem.

"I'm following them," he answered, "Get Faith and dig up some informants. Someone's been asking about The Slayer."

"You think this is about Buffy?" Doyle asked, giving his friend a disagreeable look, "Not everyone is trying to kill your wife."

"No," Angel said, "I don't think they're trying to kill her. I think they're trying to find out who she is."

"You gathered that from a twenty minute conversation in which she never came up once?"

"The guy pretending to be the husband," Angel snorted, "He's seen Buffy. Today."

"How do you know?"

"I caught her scent on him," Angel answered as he hurried out the door, "He's gotta be FBI."

Doyle headed slowly over the phone and paused as he picked it up. Angel wanted him to research the FBI. Well, Christ, why didn't he just walk in and introduce himself while he was at it? They probably had a file three inches thick on him already. As he began to dial, it occurred to him that the hotel phones were probably tapped. He looked around him imagining himself under constant surveillance.


"Faith," Doyle said, "Listen to me, okay?"

"I usually do when I'm on the phone, Doyle."

"Meet me at that one bar, the one we don't like to take Angel to."

"Is it Cryptic Day? No one told me!" She said, laughing.

"Just hang up the phone and go there," he said sternly, "Gotta talk to you."

"Alright, I'll play."

"Good. See you in a few minutes."

Doyle, who was normally a fairly paranoid half-demon anyway, found that he was downright jumpy. He went to the basement and shook on his demon, taking a whiff of the air for a second before entering the sewers. He reverted back to his human form as he jogged through the murky maze. He climbed up underneath Caritas and entered the club from underground.

"There's a door," Lorne said, nodding his horned head at the entrance, "You and Angelcakes never seemed to understand that."

"We have a problem," Doyle said severely.

"You kids always do," Lorne said, waving his Sea breeze, "Faith's already here."

Doyle gazed over to the bar where Faith was laughing at something a scaley demon had just said to her, "How'd you get here so fast?"

"I was already here," she answered, holding up her half consumed drink, "Now what's the emergency?"


knock 'em off the ladder if they even seem to stand a chance

"God damn!"

"What?" Xander said as he paused his mid pace to look at his employee, who was already heading the recon team for this case.

"Is that the expert team you called in?" he said, nodding at Buffy and Willow. They were currently passing through security, which was a slow process. Xander sometimes forgot that everyone didn't already know them. Paul was fairly new to the team and hadn't had the pleasure of meeting his friends.


"You didn't mention that they were hotties," Paul muttered, drinking them in with his eyes. He settled on the blonde and looked over her body eagerly, "What I wouldn't give to dive under that skirt."

"They're very good friends of mine," Xander snapped, "And unavailable."

"Sorry," Paul said, holding his hands up in surrender, "I was just saying-"

"Don't," Xander answered before walking out to meet his two closest friends in the world. In his line of business, no one could be trusted, so it was always a welcome relief to be around them. To them he was just plain old Xander and not the head of a covert demon fighting organization. He felt goofy again just by looking at them. He put an arm around each of them, pulling them in for a group hug and kept his arms hanging over their shoulders as they walked to his office. It had been too long since the last Scooby meeting.

"Where's Giles? I thought he was coming back this week," Buffy asked immediately. She frowned on the young man who was looking at her instead of the kind eyes of her Watcher.

"He got held up in England," Xander answered and then explained when he saw her look of concern, "I think the hold up was Olivia, but he won't admit it."

They all smirked knowingly at the joke. Giles had married Olivia two years ago and since then he stayed in London most of the year, much to the chagrin of the Council. He was making a nuisance of himself with them, mostly because he was the only Watcher alive who had ever actually watched anything. Nothing irritated the Council more than the fact that they couldn't fire him again and that not one, but two Slayers refused to listen to anyone else. Now that he wasn't living in the same country as them, the Council had tried to replace him, only to receive some major blowback from The Slayers. Giles was their Watcher. Period. Buffy still smiled every time she thought about the look on Quinton Travers face when they told him to go to hell. Albeit, Faith was a bit more forceful than she, the point was made and he high tailed it back to the mother country. That was a sunny day in the life of the Chosen Ones.

"What's the apocalypse this time, Xander?" Willow asked, "Should we duck and cover?"

"Nah," he said as he sat down behind his desk and handed them a file filled with pictures, "This is Paul, by the way, he heads up the recon team. Paul, these are my friends, Buffy and Willow."

"So there isn't an apocalypse?" Buffy asked after they greeted Paul, "Then what's the problem?"

"Oh, there is an apocalypse," Xander said, flashing his trademark goofy grin, which Paul had never seen and was a little horrified by, "But guys, this is what? Number 10? No big. You slay, we'll party."

"You sounded worried on the phone," Buffy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"That was before you were here," Xander said, shrugging and moving towards the weapons closet in the corner of the room.


the big picture is starin' at me, starin' at me

"Smith Enterprises."

"Relay 53-51627," Angel growled into the phone.

"Hello, Angel," the woman said, "One moment please. Mr. Smith is only taking emergency calls, sir."

"This is an emergency, I assure you."

"Angel," Xander said, inside a yawn as he crawled into bed next to Anya, "Looking for Buffy?"

"What do you think?" Angel snapped, "She's been gone all fucking night. Where is she?"

"On her way home," he said, so tired he barely could hold the phone to his ear, "She's fine."

"Thanks," Angel said, hanging up and looking out the front doors where the day held him captive. He had been out chasing information and ended up with a big bunch of nothing. The only information that came out from all of it was from the song stylings of Doyle and Faith at Lorne's bar. He would preferred spending his night listening to badly sung songs than running around after people who knew how to cover their tracks.



"Are they home yet?"

"Not yet," he answered, looking over and smiling fondly at the pajama clad blonde that came padding down the stairs, "But they're on their way."

"Good," she said, leaning against the counter next to him, "I can't sleep without her."

"I know what you mean, Tara," he answered. She leaned on his shoulder and together they stared out at the blinding day waiting for love to cross back over the threshold.


nothing's gonna stop me from floating. nothing's gonna stop me from floating.

"It was nice," Buffy said, sinking into the tub and blowing at the bubbles that puffed up around her.

"Saving the world again?" he asked, tightening his arms around her slippery body.

"No, fighting alongside Will and Xander," she said, leaning back against his chest, "It was just like old times."

"Sorry I missed it," Angel said sarcastically, "I could've been called ‘Dead Boy' for half the night and then I would've gotten to stop myself from strangling him."

"You know you miss those days when we actually got to fight together," she said, kissing the arm that circled her body.

"We still fight together."

"Yeah, every other week when we have time to patrol together," she snorted, "You should give Faith a raise."

"Faith already makes more than me," Angel complained, tracing her delicate shoulder blade.

"As it should be," she said and laughed at his glare, "Just kidding, honey."

"You're going to have to make that up to me," he growled against her neck, "Not to mention your little phone call. I think you deserve to be punished."

"Repeatedly, I hope," she moaned as his hand moved between her thighs.


Part Three - "Work Relationship"

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The moment this idea came into my mind, I almost dismissed it. I'm glad there are people out there that want to read this! I'm having a little too much fun with this one (and a good measure of difficulty), as I desperately try to write semi-violence free fluff. So if you find that a lot of the fight scenes I usually include are missing, that's because I'm fluffing here. Well, at least as much as I can fluff anyway, so please encourage me and let me know what you thought of this part.


yes, i wore a slinky red thing

Buffy was irritated for several reasons. First of all, they were doing a new assignment for the FBI, which meant working with Agent Wilder again. From what Angel had said, the agent already knew a lot about them from his little investigation, but he wasn't sure how much. Did he know she was The Slayer? Did he know Angel was a souled vampire? They weren't sure, but one thing was certain - that knowledge was dangerous. She hated the idea of that man having the upper hand.

Secondly, Angel was out of town and he had been gone seven days already.


In a row.

Without coming back.

At all.

Doyle's vision had sent him to the Hellmouth of all places and the thought of Angel meeting up with the end of something wooden and pointy was giving her nightmares. She wasn't sure why she worried more when he was in Sunnydale than when he was in LA, but she did - more than she was willing to admit. She made him promise to call every day, which he had and usually spent the time downplaying the danger involved and professing his undying love. He had thought about giving her a little of the phone torture she had treated him with the week before, but she was so tense, he decided against it. He also made calls to Doyle every day checking up on things and asking how his wife was faring without him. He was a little disturbed to find out that the female population of the hotel were all keeping a secret from him and as much as he tried to lurk and eavesdrop, he just wasn't succeeding.

Buffy's third reason for concern was that the new assignment was undercover...but not under much. Willow and Buffy had been sent to be a waitresses at a seedy bar in one of LA's less pretty parts of town. They were called "waitresses" but Willow had come to think of them as "buck naked girls." They weren't naked, of course. They had teeny red bikini tops and teenier black shorts. Willow was not used to showing off that much of her body, or any of it at all actually, and Buffy had to round up Tara to provide some moral support before work each night. Tara provided that support by holding the paper bag while Willow breathed into it. As she hyperventilated, she forced promises out of her lover that involved intricate forgetting spells.

Buffy would have thought it was funny if she hadn't been so uncomfortable about the whole thing herself. She knew the minute Angel found out that she and Willow were working at a bar called "JJ's Office," he would check it out and then would proceed to kill every male who had ogled his wife's goodies while he was gone. Faith was having more fun than usual as she described Angel's possible reactions to the situation. Her favorite one was where he set the whole building on fire. Faith had a way of describing it with so much vivid carnage that Buffy could almost smell the acrid burning bodies as her friend spoke. Faith had managed to keep her promise, however, and had not told Doyle where she was working. Maybe Angel wouldn't have to know at all...until it was over.

"JJ's," as it was called by everyone but her family (who called it the "Booty Bar"), smelled as if they actually used beer to mop the floors. That was assuming they mopped the floors, which Willow adamantly refused to believe. Good thing we have these spike heels then, huh? was Buffy's witty response and was given a glare from her friend that made her wish she had impaled herself instead.

JJ himself was the seediest part of the whole deal and the way he looked at her and Willow, calling them "sweet and innocent," made Buffy think it was only a matter of time before she would have to hurt him. He had a way of saying things and the look in his eyes when he said it made all the girls shiver. The FBI was interested in investigating JJ and his merry bunch of lowlifes because they suspected he was into providing hard to find items to the demon population, such as the still beating heart of a young girl or the whole girl, depending on the need. Five of the waitresses had disappeared over the last three weeks and not a trace of them had been found. The no corpse issue was the most disconcerting of all and had brought up the slavery idea. The thought kept both girls in a shudder since they began the job five days before.

"Relay 43-51627," Buffy said in the phone as she rubbed her feet. It was one thing to patrol in more sensible heels, but the teetering around in five inch spikes while she avoided wandering hands and spilling beer was a different issue. She made a mental note to up her tipping whenever she ate out for now on.

"Hello, Mrs. Summers," Xander's secretary answered, "Mr. Smith is in a meeting. Shall I interrupt him?"

"Nah," Buffy said, laying back on the bed in exhaustion, "Could you have him give me call back tomorrow? I have a quick question."

"Certainly," she quipped in her never ending professionalism. Buffy had never met her and didn't know her name, but she pictured her as a stern gray haired woman who rarely smiled. Buffy closed her eyes and thought about getting up to change into actual clothes when she heard little feet pad across her floor and then the slight bounce of the mattress as another body joined her on the bed.

"It's going to be fine, Will," Buffy said without opening her eyes to look at the horror that was undoubtedly on her friend's face.

"Are you kidding me?" Willow said, her teeth gritted with disgust, "Someone grabbed my butt tonight. He didn't pat it, he grabbed a handful of it. I'm not even allowed to hurt someone when they accost me! I can't do this anymore. I'm going to end up blowing our cover by raining frogs on someone."

"Willow, first of all, I don't think everyone is as horrified by frogs as you are," Buffy sighed, sitting up with a groan and facing her friend, who was already freshly showered. Actually, from the pinkness of her skin, she looked like she had tried to scrub the first three layers of epidermis away, "And we can't have anymore girls missing, right? I know it sucks. I hate it too and when Angel comes back, it's going to be even more frightening, but we have to deal just a little bit longer, okay?"

"Can't we just kill him?" Willow squeaked and covering her mouth after she said it.

"Sweetie!" Tara admonished from the doorway, shocked that something so vile came from her lover's lips. She crossed the room and joined Willow on the bed as Buffy changed into her robe. She definitely felt dirtier than usual this week.

"Just this one guy," Willow begged, her voice coming from between her fingers.

"I'm sorry I'm late for the latest Booty Bar story," Faith said, bouncing into the room and onto the bed with glee, "What happened tonight?"

"You're getting way too much enjoyment out of our suffering," Buffy said wryly, joining the three on her and Angel's bed, wishing she could just bury herself in his arms and forget that JJ's Office existed.

"Oh yeah," Faith said, nodding her dark head with a smile, "And I can't wait for Angel to come home. That's going to be wicked fun."

"You haven't told Doyle, have you?" Buffy asked weakly.

"No," Faith said, "But I really wanna."

"Don't," Buffy, Willow and Tara said together.

"I won't," Faith promised, "Cordy doesn't even know anything except the name of the bar. Besides, it's going to be so much better when they all find out together and I really hope Angel gets to see, can we even call that a uniform?"


don't blow these brains yet

Angel called at dawn and Buffy was sleeping soundly, having only gotten to sleep a couple of hours before. She held the phone to her ear and squinted angrily at the blinds that radiated too much light through the closed slats. Of course, she realized that no sunlight came through them for Angel's safety but it was still too damn bright.

"‘Lo?" she demanded, her strident tone letting the caller know if he wasn't Angel he should run for cover for calling at the crack of fucking dawn, literally.

"Morning baby," he said, his voice gravelly from a long night. She sighed with pleasure at the sound of his voice. She loved it when his voice had that extra layer of sexy roughness. She knew he was tired and wanted to call before he went to sleep, so she couldn't be angry with him for calling so early. She could tell that his eyes were already closed as he talked to her.

"Angel," she sighed at him, "Are you coming home tonight? Please say you've killed the big bad and you're coming home."

"Sorry, love," he said betraying his own longing to leave the Hellmouth.


"Soon," he answered, "But guess who showed up hunting these same demons?"


"Your ex," he growled lightly, forgetting the nonchalance he had been practicing.

"Riley?" she yawned, waking up completely, "You didn' anything to him, did you?"

"You mean, like beat him until every single one of his 206 bones crumbled into dust for touching my mate?"

"Angel," she warned.

"No," he answered, "I've actually been glad to have him and his little troop around. They're shortening the trip. His wife's nice."

"Oh, Sam?" Buffy said, "Yeah, she's a doll. I really want to hate her, but she makes it impossible."

"I noticed that too," he said, "I think she almost makes Riley bearable. Almost."

"Come home soon, okay? Cause I really, really miss you."

"I will," he answered, and then paused for a second, before adding, "Are you going to tell me about your new assignment any time soon?"

Buffy bolted up in bed in surprise, nearing strangling herself on the sheets as she settled into the panic that came over her, "N-new assigment?"

"You've been avoiding the topic all week, love," he explained, "What's the danger that you won't even tell Doyle about? How worried should I be right now?"

"N-not at all?"


"It's fine, really," Buffy answered, taking a deep breath, "No need to worry. Really. Everything's okay."

"So, you're not going to tell me?"

"Not today," Buffy said, "I'm not in any more danger than I usually am. I just don't want you to get all worked up about things you can't control while you're gone. Focus on taking out those demons and come home to me."

"I want to know."

"Too bad."

"Buffy," he growled.

"Angel, go to bed," she whispered, "I love you."

"I love you." Buffy held the phone and listened to the dial tone for several moments after Angel had hung up, wishing he would come home and dreading his arrival at the same time. Her gut clenched when she thought about him seeing her in that outfit, if you could call it that. Accepting her body's rush of disgust from the look she imagined coming from his eyes, she ran to the bathroom and lost the bite of dinner she had nearly eaten last night. She dry heaved for a long time, bent over the toilet, gasping for breath.


ran into some confusion

"I want to take you to dinner tonight," JJ said, after calling Buffy into his office the next day. Buffy and Willow had been finagled into working the lunch shift, which they never wanted to do because they were sure all the kidnappings had to be happening at night.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Buffy said calmly, "Cause, you know, you're my boss and we should keep a professional relationship."

"It wasn't a question," he answered, tossing her a gift bag, "Wear that and show up at 6 tonight."

"But I don't think-" Buffy said, catching the flying object and holding it with the tips of her fingers as if he carried some rare disease only passed on by decorative tissue paper.

"Do you want your job?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at her in anger.


"6 o'clock then and don't be late," he said in a voice that was as greasy as his hair. Buffy walked out and went into the break room to find her cell phone. She took it outside after slipping into Angel's leather jacket and walked a block away to call Xander again.

"Hey Buff," he said, "Sorry. I was going to call you this afternoon."

"No big," she answered, "Look, I need to know what you can find out about a bar named 'JJ's Office' and more importantly what you can dig up about the owner."

"Demon supplier," Xander answered immediately, "And hard to catch. You're not-"

"I'm working there," she finished.

"Buffy, please be careful. Guy's a freak."

"Yeah, I've picked that up. Look, can you put someone out to ask some questions. I'd do it myself but I think the dirt I'm raking up on the inside is causing some suspicion."

"Alright," he said, "We need to nail him quickly."

There was a long pause and then a shocked question followed, "Willow's not working there with you, is she?"


"Buffyareyououtofyourdamnmind?" Xander shouted.


figure it out
she's a goodtime fella

Buffy reconvened with her three friends after her date that evening and they all took an extra few minutes to comment again on the skimpy black dress like thing she had worn. She stripped it off and tossed it in the corner of the closet wishing it would explode into flame and actually thought about asking Willow to do it, but thought better of it in case the creep asked about it later.

"Well?" Willow asked nervously, "Did anything, you know, happen?"

"He offered me a raise, but I rejected it," Buffy answered, "I'm thinking this is how the missing girl thing happens: He lures them into extra jobs with the promise of cash. He said he might have a ‘side thing' he needed a girl for. I said I'd think about it."

"Did you manage to keep him from pawing you?" Faith asked, folding her arms behind her head as she lounged on the bed.

"Just barely," Buffy answered, "And let me tell you, this is not going to be easy. The guy is very talented at getting women in compromising situations. We have another date on Friday to discuss the job. Have I mentioned how much I hate him yet?"

"Maybe three or four hundred times," Tara answered, "but with Willow telling me too, I've lost count."

"Slime ball," Willow said, shaking her head, "I could just cast a truth spell and make him tell us everything. Oooh, and do you think there's a spell where we can make his blood boil? That would be fun to watch."

"Hit the breaks, Anya," Buffy said, "We only need one vengeancey person in our group of friends."

"This is not vengeance," Willow objected, "This is extreme dislike. I don't have a cause for vengeance. Not yet anyway."

"Well, I'm sure the asshole will give you a reason sooner or later," Faith added, "I say boil the bastard and ask questions later."

"You're not helping," Tara said, eyeing the darker Slayer, almost managing to scrape up some intimidating scowl action, which was not easy for the kind blonde.

"I know," Faith beamed, "But trust me, blondie, I could do worse."

"We all have no doubt," Buffy answered.

"Relax," Faith said, sitting up, "I'm on call for you guys if you need me. I'm going on patrol. You know, B, that thing you hardly ever do anymore."

"High heels! Five inch ones!" Buffy protested, "You walk on those things all night and see how much patrolling you feel like doing."

"Wimp," Faith cast over her shoulder as she headed for the door.

"Bite me!"

"I'll leave that to Angel!" Came wafting back with the sound of Faith's boots tromping down the stairs.


quickest girl in the frying pan

It was midnight when Angel finally made it home. He headed directly for the bedroom and found the room desolate and depressingly empty. Although he didn't expect Buffy to be home, he really wanted her to be. Almost two weeks away from his wife was more than any sane man should be expected to deal with. He opened the closet and dropped his bag on the floor inside it and as he prepared to close the door again and go out in search of her, a silky piece of black material caught his eye. He bent over and picked it up. He held it up and stared in disbelief at the meager slip of clothing. There was no way his Buffy wore that out of the house. He hurried down the stairs and dialed his phone at the same time.


"Cordy. It's Angel. Where is Buffy?"

"Can't you find your own wife? I'm her secretary, not her keeper," Cordy snipped.

"Cordelia," Angel sighed, "Just tell me where she is."

"All I know is that she's working undercover at some bar called ‘JJ's Office.' She's waitressing or something."

"That's the big secret?" He asked, not really to Cordelia, "What kind of bar is it?"

"I don't know, Angel," Cordy answered, "It's a bar and Buffy's working there. That's all I know."

"‘Kay. Thanks." He hung up and headed back out the front door as he called Doyle, who, surprisingly enough, was at another bar several blocks away drowning in Margaritas.

"What do you know about JJ's Office?" Angel asked when he arrived at the bar, sliding onto the stool next to his intoxicated seer.

"You wanna go there?" Doyle asked in surprise, "I always thought of you as the kinda guy who didn't look at other women, cause you're married to such a hottie."

"What?" Angel asked, grabbing the half-demon and pulling him closer, "What do you mean look at other women?"

"You're the one who wants to go there," Doyle answered, slurring his words, "What're ya gettin' mad at me for?"

"Where is it and what kind of place are we talking about?" he asked, slapping down money on the bar and pulling Doyle along with him as he moved toward the door.

"It's a girly bar," Doyle said, scrunching his face up in drunken confusion, "You know, a step down from a strip club where the girls all wear little outfits that leave nothin' to the imagination. Why are we going there?"

"Buffy's working there," he snarled as he threw Doyle into the passenger seat.

"Nuh-uh," Doyle objected.

"Oh yeah," Angel growled as he peeled away from the corner.

"Christ," Doyle said, sobering up slightly, "She's undercover then. You can't just storm in there."

"You bet your ass I can," Angel shouted, "You should see the dress I found in our bedroom. I wouldn't let her wear that in front of you let alone some other strange men!"

"They don't wear dresses," Doyle said, "They wear much less than that."

The roar that escaped from Angel made the Irishman think he should have left that part out. He gave directions, pointing out the turns as Angel wove around cars that were annoyingly observing the speed limit.

When he walked, or stormed, into the club, he scanned the packed bar for his wife and found her standing at the bar, holding an empty tray. She was talking to a medium sized sinister looking guy, who was shamelessly leering at her. And who wouldn't be when her firm body was barely covered by what she was wearing? Angel checked his sanity at the door as he took a full thirty seconds to eye his love. He looked over the red bikini top left most of her perfect breasts in view of anyone who cared to look and the shorts barely fit into that category and could be more aptly categorized as underwear. His eyes traveled down her shapely legs and focused on the indecent shoes she was wearing. He briefly thought about pulling them off her feet and lodging the heels into someone's skull. He headed across the bar without caring who he knocked out of the way or that his eyes were fully golden as he barely reigned in the demon.


but honey do drop in

JJ had Buffy cornered at the bar and was enjoying the feel of her firm ass under his hand. He was sure her toned body would be perfect for any need and thought about whether he really wanted to hand her over to his suppliers. He was thinking about keeping the fine specimen to himself when something grabbed him. He screamed as his wrist snapped and looked up at a man who looked roughly like a mountain.

"Angel," Buffy said, wanting to pull him off the dolt, but finding that she really didn't have the strength to do it.

"Keep your fucking hands off my wife," Angel demanded, crushing his fist into the guy's jaw and coldly smiling at the feel of his mandible cracking.

"Your wife?" the man managed to choke out as his head hit the bar, then the floor.

"Yes, my WIFE, you piece of shit!" Angel growled, dragging him toward the back. Doyle, Buffy and Willow ran after him, feeling a hundred sets of eyes following them as they went.


with a bit of a shout a bit of a shout
a bit of an angry shout

"How am I going to explain that to the FBI, Angel?" Buffy shouted with welling eyes, "You nearly tortured him to death for the information!"

"I didn't kill him and the case is closed," Angel said angrily, as he and Buffy entered their bedroom, "And you should be glad I didn't kill him and every other guy in the whole fucking place." Buffy sank to the bed and lost herself in sobs, which caused Angel's anger to crumble.

"I'm sorry," he said, gathering her half naked body into his lap, "I'm sorry, baby. I just lost it. Walking in and seeing you wearing that...another man touching you..."

"I didn't do anything wrong," Buffy sobbed, "I just was doing my job and I knew when you came home..."

Buffy stopped in mid-sentence and ran toward the bathroom. Angel ran after her, still apologizing and watched in surprised as she crashed to her knees and began to vomit.

"Are you okay?" he said, rushing over to gather her hair from her face, while he smoothed a hand over her back, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

She washed her face and brushed her teeth while Angel looked on, drenched in concern and regret. He carried her back to the bedroom and set her on her feet. He removed her clothes and dropped them on the floor, fully intending to burn them later, if Buffy didn't get to it first. He looked down at her and wiped away a stray tear.

"I love you," he said, "And I'm sorry."

Her hand moved up to his mouth. Her fingertips fluttered across his lips to silence him and then she stepped into his arms, pulling him in for a kiss.

"Just make love to me, Angel," she said, looking to his eyes. She unbuttoned his shirt quickly as he kicked off his shoes and tossed off the rest of his clothes. He pulled her flush against him, crushing her against his chest as he attacked her mouth. Inside her perfect embrace after almost two weeks caused that familiar warmth to settle over his body. She jumped up, wrapping her legs around his waist and he moved to the wall, entering her as he pressed her back against the plaster.

He felt all his feelings turning into desire and love as he moved inside her, as she bit hungrily at his lips. Her blood seemed to pumping in all different directions, making him dizzy and confused as he thrust inside her, feeling each welcoming counter movement from his lover. Her breaths came out in pants as she held on to him, kissing every piece of flesh her lips could reach. As she came the first time, Angel was so busy reeling in the pleasure of her that he forgot about the strange flow of her blood.

He felt like his legs were going to give out as she came a second time, her inner muscles clenching around him. He growled against her neck, sucking his scar hard and barely keeping himself from baring his fangs and re-marking her as his primal need to claim what was his took over. Her orgasms were like a drug, as was the feel of her quivering around him and he reached between them and pinched her clitoris, delighting in her nearly instant orgasm. She bucked against him, screaming as she released for the third time.

He moved to the bed and he fell back on it, keeping her with him. She immediately rose and fell on his lap, slamming him deeply inside her so rigorously that his eyes rolled back in his head. With her hands pressing against his chest, she looked into his eyes. He reached up and cupped her breasts, pinching her delicate nipples. He waited for her to climax one more time, clenching his jaw as he fought for control inside the long awaited heaven of his mate.

"Come on, baby," she moaned, digging her fingers into his chest, "I want to feel you come inside me."

"Together," he moaned back as she pivoted her hips, adding an extra twist to her movements that nearly made him lose control. He felt her thrusts increasing and waited for her release as he moved his hands to her pivoting hips. When she finally climaxed, he let himself go as well with a loud groan of pleasure. She collapsed on top of him and as her sweaty, pleasured body pressed perfectly against his, he listened to her heartbeats. Both of them.