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

SPOILERS: This takes place two years after "Drawings of You." Completely AU. Everyone's just plain ‘ole human.

PAIRING: B/A, of course!

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

LYRICS: All lyrics are from the Cure.

RATING: NC-17

DEDICATION: To everyone who loved the first part and for those who requested a sequel.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yeah, I know I'm supposed to be working on "In A Maudlin Sort of Way," "Filling in the Blanks" and "Slayers and Witches and Vampires, Oh My!" I know this. But for those of you who know me at all realize that I'm restless. I'm surprised I sit still long enough to type. Anyway, this sequel has been bugging me for several weeks. Some of you know that I've been helping my friend remodel a house, which I ducked out on today to write and clean (ugh), so the beginning of this has stemmed from LONG, arduous hours of sweaty work. Hope you'll like what I have in mind. (I do *plan* to write the others while I'm in the middle of this one, in case you were wondering. We'll see how that works out, though.)

Okay, please suspend your disbelief for my human version of B/A...

***

the very first time i saw your face
i thought of a song
and quickly changed the tune

Lindsey McDonald pulled into the circle drive in front of Buffy Summer's house and eyed the dilapidated structure. It was a perfect fixer-upper at first glance. The foundation looked strong, although the sagging wraparound porch would need to be replaced. He smiled, excited about the prospect of tackling the project.

Lindsey was an architect, as well as a jack of all trades, who specialized in revamping buildings and homes. Growing up in the home of a construction worker, he had learned more about houses than he had in college and his internships. Once he graduated, he started a small business that soon became the rage in LA. People loved the idea of taking something old and making it new. They loved scrawling their signatures on ridiculously large checks for the expertise of one country boy turned entrepreneur.

He pulled open the screen door and passed through the front door, which was standing open. Music blasted from a small, portable CD player in the corner. He inhaled the small of fresh cut lumber and paint as he walked through, surveying what needed to be done.

His cowboy boots betrayed his presence as he walked through, taking in his surroundings. Every single floor had to be stripped, every wall needed patching and painting. From his initial once over he knew there was so much work to be done most people would probably consider scrapping it and starting over. But this house was a classic. All of the original hand carved moldings were still in place around the doorframes and windows. The windows were all placed in the perfect spots for optimum natural airflow and he was thankful for that because it was a very hot afternoon. He pulled a small notebook from his pocket and jotted a few notes as he wandered around looking for the woman of the house.

He found her balancing precariously on a ladder in the far end of the dining room attempting to spackle a crack in the wall. He looked over her for a moment, eyeing her shapely body. He ignored the man covered in splotches of antique white paint that was carrying supplies into the room. He was a far less enjoyable sight than the tiny blonde on the ladder.

"Too bad she's engaged, huh?" the painter asked, setting down a five gallon jug of paint.

"Yeah," Lindsey echoed. Buffy Summers was definitely beautiful even while she was covered in dust and sweat. Her muscles flexed with her efforts, keeping his eyes and his imagination occupied. He could already imagine sliding in between those firm thighs, "And I was warned that her fiancé is an overprotective dick."

"He is," the painter answered casually, prying open the paint as he spoke.

"I'm just glad he's not going to be here today. I heard he broke some guy's arm in two places for trying to pick her up in bar. Course, I can't blame him. She's a hot little piece of ass," Lindsey answered, thinking he would be just as protective of her. She looked fragile and small, looming above them on the ladder, which started to wobble as she leaned too far. Both men tensed, preparing to run over to help her. The painter was the first to respond as she tried to steady herself and lost her balance. He reached her just in time, blocking her with his body. She slammed down on him and he caught her, wrapping his arms around her narrow waist before she landed on the hardwood floor.

"Thank you," she said shakily, leaning back against him for a moment to gather her senses before she stood up on her own two feet. She looked around the room and noticed another person there and cursed under her breath as she wiped the sweat off her brow with her arm. Figures that another person would be there to witness her clumsiness.

"No more ladders for you," the painter said firmly, as if he had a right to tell her what to do. In fact, Lindsey began to get worried when he realized that this man was not a hired painter. He knew her well.

She cast the painter a irritated look and then smiled while addressing her visitor, "Hi. Can I help you?"

"Lindsey McDonald," he said with concern in his bright blue eyes, "I had an appointment with Buffy Summers at 3:00 today."

"Hi. I can't believe you just saw that," she said, glancing at her watch, "Believe me, I'm usually not this clumsy."

"Yes, she is," the painter said with a smile, receiving a swat on the shoulder for his comment.

"Ignore him," she said, holding out her hand, "Thank you for coming. I'm Buffy and this is my fiancé, Angel."

Lindsey looked over the large man he had been speaking to before. He quickly snapped shut the mouth that went slack in shock and held out his hand Angel, "Nice to meet you. It was my understanding that you wouldn't be here for this meeting."

"My appointment was canceled," Angel answered, shaking the offered hand a shade too firmly, "Thanks for coming, Lindsey. Buffy's uncle says you're the best."

"I'd like to think so," he answered, looking down at his notes to hide the frustration in his eyes. He took a second to dislodge the proverbial foot lodged in his mouth and then looked back up at the couple, "I already made a couple of notes. You have your work cut out for you. I have to be honest, this will be a long, expensive project if you plan to do it right."

"I was afraid you were going to say that," Angel answered, "I'm assuming Buffy told you that we are doing most of the work ourselves when we can."

"Well, that makes it longer," Lindsey said, "Let's take a look around."

The walk through was promising. Lindsey tried to forget Angel was there, speaking to them over his shoulder as he pointed out places in the floors and walls. They shared their ideas with him and he couldn't help but like Buffy. She excitedly explained what each room was for, even when it was obvious, and how they planned to improve it. The couple was obviously very much in love and Lindsey annoyingly accepted the fact that she was really engaged to the asshole who had let him walk to into an oral trap earlier. She looked at him like he was perfect and he looked at her the same way. It was a shame, really. She was captivating and bright, which was rare in such a pretty girl, especially in LA. She would look perfect on his arm and in his bed.

"Thank you for coming," Buffy said and then added hopefully, "So, you'll take the job, right?"

"Sure," Lindsey answered with a good natured nod, "If you want me, I'll be glad to help you out."

"Great!" Buffy said, smiling brightly.

"Why don't we meet here tomorrow morning and we'll go from there?" Lindsey said as a phone began ringing in the back of the house.

"That's my cell," Buffy said, jogging out of the room, "Nice to meet you, Lindsey! See you tomorrow."

Lindsey turned and looked grimly at the fiancé he was left with and opened his mouth to apologize when Angel interrupted him, "No hard feelings. I shouldn't have trapped you like that."

"I was out of line," Lindsey said, "I meant no disrespect."

"Course you did," Angel said, quirking a half smile, "But you were right. I am an overprotective dick when it comes to my girl. It's good you know that ahead of time. Makes things easier. Thanks for stopping by. See you tomorrow morning? 9 AM?"

"Sure," Lindsey answered hesitantly and pushed open the screen door, preparing to walk out.

"Just for the record," Angel said as Lindsey took a step forward, "I broke his arm in three places."

***

catch me if i fall
i'm losing hold

When Buffy walked back in, Angel was standing at the open door watching Lindsey drive away. He turned when she neared him and leaned down to kiss her lips. The kiss deepened and as he pulled her more tightly, she cut off the kiss.

"So, what did you think of Lindsey? There seemed to be tension between you two boys," she said, eyeing him suspiciously.

"He'll probably help us out a lot," Angel answered, curbing around her comment, "He seems to know what he's talking about."

"What did he do?" Buffy asked, raising an eyebrow, "Did say I was pretty or something and now you're being all macho guy?"

"Something like that," Angel admitted, smiling sheepishly.

"Angel," Buffy said, "He's really good at what he does and we need the help, so please don't scare him away."

"I won't," Angel promised, kissing the tip of her nose, "I tried to be nice."

"Not really," she rebuffed.

"I was civil," he protested, "Anyway, who was on the phone?"

"Willow," she said, "she wanted to know if we're still clubbing it tonight. I told her yes, but since you're all growly, maybe it's not such a good idea. Remember last time we went out?"

"If you had heard what he said about you, you would have been happy that all I did was break his arm."

"No, I wouldn't have," Buffy said, "Are you ever going to tell me what he said anyway?"

"Nope. Not a chance," Angel answered, kissing her again quickly and then rubbing her arms lightly, "Ready to get out of here?"

"I didn't finish spackling that crack," Buffy said, "Let me do that and then we can go."

"No way," Angel said, "Anything above Buffy height for now on will be done by someone who will not fall off a ladder."

"I lost my balance," Buffy pouted, "No big."

"You're not going back up there. Not today at least," Angel said, "I'll do it. It'll just take a minute."

***

i want it to be perfect
like before
i want to change it all

Darla waited at the counter as the police officer rattled off the contents of the envelope, handing her belongings one by one. She had learned a lot about herself and the mistakes she had made during her time in prison. She went about getting Angel back the completely wrong way. She realized that now.

She scooped her things back into her black leather purse and strode out into the daylight, breathing free air for the first time in two years. It was a wonderful feeling. She stepped into the cab that had been called for her with a smile.

By the time she had made it home, opened up her house and showered, washing away two years of prison from her body, it was dark. The house was silent, echoing the sounds of her footsteps for the first time in a long time. She curled up in her armchair and looked out of the window, sipping a glass of wine. She had taken that small pleasure for granted before she went to prison. Today, she savored it, the way it rolled over her tongue and slid down her throat. If there was one thing prison had taught her, it was that nothing should be taken for granted.

***

Part Two - "Clubbin' It"

RATING: NC-17

***

waiting again
waiting
like i waited before

Angel, Doyle and Xander sat a table along the side of the club, nursing drinks, while they waited for Buffy, Willow and Cordelia to grace them with their presence. Their eyes flitted across the room at gyrating bodies, many of them beautiful women, then to the door and back again.

"Where are they?" Xander whined, sipping his drink, knowing if they were kept waiting much longer all three of them would be drunk before their girlfriends arrived, "And what the hell are they doing anyway? Playing dress up?"

"Cordy got some special deal at the agency for some designer stuff," Doyle explained, feeling the alcohol that was beginning to effect his speech, "She was all excited about it."

"So was Buffy," Angel added, watching the door with an expression on his face that was unidentifiable to his friends. He shifted uncomfortably in the wooden chair which squeaked in protest of the man weighing it down. Over the loud house music, the sound wasn't heard, but Angel felt like the chair was designed for a much smaller person. He hunkered over the table and kept his eyes peeled on the door. What was taking so damn long?

***

stopped short, grinding halt
everything's coming to a grinding halt

"I cannot wear this," Willow said loudly as she looked at her reflection in Cordelia's full length mirror.

"It's a one of a kind designer dress, Willow," Cordelia explained, eyeing her friend with disgust, "Do you have any idea what I had to go through to get these out of the agency for us?"

"But look at it," Willow said, gesturing helplessly at the mirror and turning to Buffy for a rescue.

"I think what she means," Buffy said, looking down at the meager clothing she was wearing, feeling only slightly less naked than Willow, "Is that when you said you were giving us clothes, we sorta thought that the cloth part would be included."

"We look hot," Cordy said, nearly shouting as she turned to inspect her perfect body in the mirror, "I wear this sort of thing on the runway all of the time. Sometimes less."

"That's you," Willow said, slumping down on Cordy's bed carefully, trying not to wrinkle or rip the teeny, body hugging dress she was poured into, "I'm not used to this. I can't go in public like this."

"I'm not sure I can either," Buffy said, stepping over to the mirror to check and affirm that the same amount of usually covered skin was still in plain view.

"Don't be ridiculous," Cordy sneered, "You're both a bunch of conservative wimps. You promised me we would dress up and go out tonight. You are not backing out now!"

"‘Dress' being the operative word," Buffy mumbled. Willow nodded vigorously in approval. They were certainly not dressed by any stretch of the imagination. Even grading on the Cordy curve, they were still nearly naked. From the determination on their friend's face, they weren't sure how they were going to get out of this.

***

sophisticated smile
you seduce in such fine style

"Holy God, that's Willow," Xander blurted, nearly choking on his drink as he stared at the three women who walked, or slithered in. Xander Harris knew his girlfriend had a beautiful, sculpted body but he definitely never thought anyone else would see it. Tonight she stood in between Buffy and Cordelia, wearing a tiny black dress that made her pale skin glisten in the dim light. His lover's lovely breasts spilled from the top and he thought if she moved too quickly, they would be released of their covering completely.

"Oh shit," Doyle said, looking over the two piece ensemble his girlfriend was wearing, which looked as if it might have been painted onto her generous curves, "I shoulda known..."

"Please tell me I'm so drunk that I'm seeing things," Xander begged, gripping his cold glass tightly. He glanced around the club to see if any of the men there had noticed the dramatic entrance of the three lovely women. They had.

"You're not," Angel growled, standing up quickly and shaking the table in the process. The outfits the girls were wearing were not outlandish compared to what a lot of women wore to these sorts of clubs, but Buffy, Willow and Cordelia were not those other women. They didn't appear to be uncomfortable or self conscious as they sauntered across the room, seeking out the men that waited for them. Angel moved his eyes over his fiancé, burning into the bare flesh of her belly, the cleavage that was visible and her firm thighs. Angel strode towards them, feeling his groin tighten in response. He picked up his step as a sleazy looking man approached them.

"Uh-oh," Doyle said, standing up as well and following Angel. He had no doubt Cordelia Chase could protect herself from whatever man hit on her. He was following to keep Angel from snapping the guy's bones.

"I gotta second that," Xander said, standing and falling in line.

Buffy turned as a drunken voice shouted out, "Hey blondie!" He was tall and attractive with a medium build. If he wasn't so sloppily intoxicated, he might be a nice guy. Unfortunately, he was that drunk and not so nice.

"Hey baby, wait up," he said, stumbling toward them, "I wanna buy you and your friends a drink."

"Sorry," Buffy said politely, "We're meeting dates here."

"Fuck ‘em," he spat, reaching out and gathering her to his side, "You bitches need-"

"Excuse me," Buffy said, shrugging him off and stepping aside, "My fiancé is waiting for me."

"Fiancé huh?" he said, stepping in again and grabbing her wrist, "Well, I don't see him."

The man looked up in surprise as he was pulled away from her. Buffy took the opportunity to wrench her wrist away from his clammy hand and heard an angry male voice shout, "Keep your fucking hands off of her."

"Ford?" Buffy asked, surprised that her savior wasn't Angel.

"Hi Buffy," he said, sweeping his eyes over her body appreciatively, "Long time, no see."

"What are you doing here?" she gasped, rushing over to hug him, "I thought you moved to Boston a couple of years ago."

"Just got back last week," he said, flashing her one of his trademark charming smiles, while keeping an arm around her waist, "I was going to call and check up on you."

"You remember Cordy and Willow, right?" Buffy asked, nodding to her friends.

"Yeah," he answered, "Hello ladies. You all look beautiful tonight."

"Thanks," Willow blustered, reddening at his glance.

"Buffy," Angel growled, stepping to the edge of their circle. He clenched his fists at his side, willing himself not to tear apart the dark haired man who had a hand resting comfortably on his future wife's supple hip.

"Hi honey," she said, smiling brightly and moving away from Ford and into his arms, "This is my old friend, Billy Fordham. Ford, this is my fiancé, Angel."

"Nice to meet you," Ford said, extending a hand and hiding his disappointment. Angel glared at the hand for a second before excepting it and squeezing a shade too tightly.

"Ford and I dated for a while in High School, Angel," Buffy said, pressing closer to his side.

"You're a lucky man, Angel," Ford said, winking at Buffy, "I never should have let this one get away."

"I'm glad you did," Angel said, calming slightly. Buffy was his. There was no way she would leave him for her ex and he did keep her from being mauled by the drunk slimeball, "Thanks for helping her out with that asshole."

"Anytime."

***

the party just gets better and better

"I don't like him," Angel said to Xander as Buffy and Willow danced, talked and laughed with Ford. Cordy and Doyle had disappeared somewhere, probably necking in a dark corner and Angel was left with Xander, who wasn't his favorite friend.

"You shouldn't," Xander answered, narrowing his eyes as Ford took every opportunity to touch Willow and Buffy on the dance floor, "We went to high school with him. He's a jackass. Treated Buff like shit."

"Really?" Angel said, raising an eyebrow in interest, "Why are they all buddy-buddy then?"

"She didn't know half the shit he pulled behind her back," he explained, nearly spitting the words out, "She thought he walked on water until he dumped her for another girl. When he got rid of the other girl, they became friends. I think it's because he was trying to get back together with her."

"But they never did?"

"Nope. She never thought she could trust him in a relationship again."

"Good. I don't trust him either," Angel said, watching Ford like a hawk. Buffy moved away toward the ladies room and Angel stood to follow. He made it halfway across the club, when a warm body pressed against him. He looked down into the shimmering brown eyes of one of his ex-lovers.

"Jhiera," Angel said, pulling away so that they were no longer touching. Not taking the hint, she moved closer again.

"I've missed you, Angel," she said, smoothing her hand over his leather encased groin. He caught her wrist and steered her hand away from him.

"I'm engaged now," he said, releasing her wrist, "I'm sorry but I'm not available."

"I heard you were off the market," she said in a sultry voice, "But I didn't think it could be true."

"It is," he said gently.

"Is she here?" Jhiera asked, allowing her hand to move to his arm, lightly caressing. She didn't bother to look around for the girl. She didn't care where she was.

"Yes," he said, moving away again.

"You know," she offered casually, "We could find a corner somewhere. It wouldn't be the first time you had me while you were with another woman."

"I'm a one woman guy now," he said, keeping his eyes on her face and away from her body. She was the one woman he could never refuse before. They both knew that and they both knew how hard it was for him to say no. He used to drown in her eyes, in her sense of adventure, in the sheer wickedness of her nature. She loved swooping in and pulling him from the arms of another woman, which, for a while, she did on a regular basis.

"Jhiera," Cordelia said, walking up and looping her arm through Angel's, "How are you doing?"

"Cordelia," she said in surprise, "I'm doing well. You?"

"I'm peachy," she said.

"You two know each other?" Angel asked, finding the feeling of Cordelia on his arm strange, but comforting after trying to defend himself from Jhiera's wandering and insistent hands.

"We work together from time to time," Cordy answered, "Were you looking for Buffy? I think she went that way."

"Yeah," he said, moving in the direction that she pointed with a sigh of relief, "Nice seeing you, Jhiera."

Once Angel was out of earshot, Jhiera turned back to Cordelia, narrowing her eyes, "That was rude. Really, I thought you had more class than that."

"Oh yeah, trying to fuck a man you know damn well is engaged. Now, that's classy," Cordy snapped, "Stay away from Angel. He's taken."

"You sound upset about that. Guess you didn't get any before he found the new bitch," Jheria said with a confident smile. Cordy glared at her for a second and opened her mouth to retort when Doyle appeared and wrapped his arm around her.

"Hello there," he said with a nod, "Cordy, you gonna introduce me to your friend?"

"This vapid whore is not my friend," she answered looking directly at Jhiera as she spoke and then stalked off, leaving Doyle there for a second until he pivoted and hurried to follow her in confusion.

Jhiera watched them for a moment and allowed her gaze to follow them to the table where Billy Fordham was sitting. They made eye contact for just a second and she winked at him. He returned with an almost imperceptible nod. After a second more, she turned and walked out.

***

but i don't mind
i just don't care
i've got no objection to you touching me there

Buffy squeezed her way out of the ladies room, happy to be away from the most repulsive restroom she ever had the opportunity to visit. She moved cheerfully back into the throng of people, prepared to find Angel and smooth over his jealousy. He was so cute, stewing at the table while she had a harmless dance with Ford. Sure, he was an ex-boyfriend but Angel was acting like she was going to run away with him or something.

She shouted in protest as arms grabbed her waist and pulled her to the side. She was slammed into a dark corner and a large body pressed against hers. Only when his mouth pressed against hers demandingly, did she realize that her attacker was Angel. He sucked her tongue roughly and lifted one of her legs to hold it up against his side, pressing his groin against hers.

"I like you jealous," she whispered, pressing back against him as his free hand moved to her breast, pinching her nipple through the thin material. He grunted his answer as he dipped his head and bit at her other nipple. He slid his hand down her body, slipped under her skirt and ripped away her panties. She gasped as he tucked them into his pocket before returning quickly to her now bare heat.

"Angel!" she shouted and then lowered her voice quickly as he plunged two fingers inside her, massaging her clit with his thumb, "We can't do this here."

"Yes, we can," he said, looking over his shoulder at the loud, bouncing group of people. People where grinding against each other and making out all over the place. No one even noticed or cared about them.

"Angel," she moaned, as he twisted his fingers inside her, "have to go home."

"Let me in, baby," he whispered against her lips, nipping them gently between his words, "I need to be inside you."

He pressed harder against her clit as he waited for her answer, brushing against the sensitive nub roughly. He felt her orgasm nearing and wanted nothing more than to be inside her slick core when she did. She looked over his shoulder, barely able to see because his body was blocking hers and then back at him. She nodded slowly and reached down to unzip his pants, releasing his cock from its tight confines. With one smooth motion, he pulled his fingers from her and entered her.

***

Part Three - "Forming a Plan"

DEDICATION: For trammie. I believe you have been waiting patiently for the artistic part. *G*

***

waiting for the telephone to ring

They both sighed as he filled her. She leaned against the wall, closing her eyes as he moved fluidly in and out of her core, thrusting harder until she was releasing small grunts of pleasure with each stroke. A strange vibration made its way into their senses and Angel paused for a second, realizing finally that his damn cell phone was buzzing in his pocket. He moved forward again, suckling the delicate column of her throat as he moved, pinching her aching nipples through the material that still covered them. As Buffy tipped over the edge of her first orgasm, the cell phone was still humming away with apparently no intention of stopping.

He was breathing heavily as he jerked it out of his pocket, buried to the hilt inside his lover. Her inner muscles were convulsing around him as he nearly shouted, "What the fuck to you want?"

"Where the hell are you two?" Cordelia demanded on the other end, "We're ready to leave. Are you coming?"

"Not yet," he complained, knowing she missed the double entendre. Buffy watched his jaw clenching, half in anger and half in checked lust, with heavy lidded amusement. She pried the phone gently from him and spoke into it breathily, "Go ahead and go, Cordy. We're going to stay here for a little while longer."

"Angel drove Xander," Cordelia snapped, "He and Willow have no way to get home."

***

you know you turn me on. eyes so white and legs so long

"Why does Cordelia have to drive a damn sports car?" Angel growled quietly as they watched Xander and Willow enter their house.

"I'm sorry, baby," Buffy purred, still aglow from the orgasm that she had earlier. She crossed the expanse of seat and nibbled on his jaw line, allowing one tiny hand to caress his groin. Her breath was sweet and soft on his neck as she moved there, leaving a wet trail of kisses and licks. Angel gripped the steering wheel, focusing on the road as her lips and hot little hands assaulted him. He felt a rush of air as she unzipped his pants and wrapped her hand around the base of his still erect cock.

He looked around them as she took him in her mouth, scraping her perfect white teeth over the sensitive tip. The convertible allowed for a much better view of what was going on to anyone passing by and thankfully there was no one on either side of them. Her ass was raised in the air as she moved further down on his lap until he felt himself making contact with the back of her throat. He bit his inner jaw, trying to keep control, glancing down at her periodically. He sped up when another car inched up on the side of them. He knew that the driver would have a perfect view of his lover if he pulled up alongside them. Not only was she moving in his lap in slow, tantalizing strokes, but with her panties tucked safely in his pocket, her wet sex was available for prying eyes.

He pressed on the gas while simultaneously arching up, straining against his seatbelt. He roared into the parking lot of his apartment complex and slammed the car into park as he released into her steaming mouth. She sat up and licked her lips, giving him a satisfied smile. Even after two years of being with her, he still couldn't believe it when her innocence mutated into the devilish sex kitten he knew her to be.

Pressing the release button on his seatbelt, he zipped up his pants before vaulting from his seat and rounding the front of the car to get to her side. She had already stepped out and closed the door when he reached her. He attacked her mouth, lowering her roughly to the hood of the car. He wanted nothing more to take her then and there, but gathered a sense of reality after long moments of delving into her sweet mouth. He swept her into his arms and made a beeline for the front door and didn't set her back on her feet until they stepped into the elevator. He reached between her thighs once the doors closed behind him, sliding his fingers over her wet, bared sex. He found her clit immediately and twisted it between his forefinger and thumb, delighting in her pant of pleasure.

"Angel," she moaned, gripping his shoulders and digging into the hard muscle there, "Not going to make it. Please."

The ding of the opening elevator doors sounded fuzzy to Buffy as Angel grabbed her hand and led her swiftly down the hallway, cursing himself for choosing the furthest damn apartment possible. He fumbled with his keys for a moment, feeling for the lock as he pressed her against the door, biting at her full lips. They stumbled inside as the door swung open and he yanked the keys from the lock, tossing them aside as he kicked the door shut behind them. Buffy swiftly pulled off her expensive top and skirt to keep her lover from ripping it from her body. Angel shucked his clothes as well and pulled her down on the living room floor with him. Easily, he gripped her narrow hips and lifted her over him.

Dripping wet, she slid down on his throbbing cock, moving up and slamming down once more. His hips left the floor as he pounded back up against her, digging his large fingers into her hips. He watched her perfect breasts hovering above him, swaying with her movements and finally rolled them over, staying buried inside her as they shifted positions. He sucked one pebbled nipple into his mouth and bit into it, twisting the other between his fingertips as he moved evenly inside her. Releasing her breasts, he reached underneath her, gripping her ass and angling her up against him. The slight change had its desired effect and she came with a throaty scream, thrashing wildly against him. Moments later, he let go as well, losing himself in the spiraling oblivion of his lover.

***

in water colors
shades of gray
something, something holds me, holds me hypnotized

Angel woke in the middle of the night dying of thirst. Too much beer and not enough water had left him dry and he downed a glass of water and then another before padding back to bed. The slight amount of moonlight streaming through the large bedroom windows was enough for him to make out Buffy's form in the dark. He stopped at the end of the bed and stared at her for a moment before opening the side table drawing and producing a set of matches. He lit the candle next to the bed, returned the matches and looked over her once more. The covers had long ago fallen from the bed and the blue silk sheet was ribboned around her body, enunciating the swell of her breasts and the curve of her bottom. She was lying on her back, her flat belly left bare. One arm was under her sexy bed rumbled head and the other was stretched across the mattress, almost as if she were reaching for him. Her lips were still swollen from being bitten and kissed, her skin still flushed from her multiple orgasms.

After a moment or two of awed staring, he moved to the spare bedroom and carried his easel and paints into the room, setting them up at the foot of the bed. He dervishly mixed paints, laying it evenly over the canvas, detailing her outline first and then moving back in to capture each dainty aspect of her elegant form.

***

the ladies lover

Buffy blinked awake and yawned, stretching languidly before reaching for Angel. She felt first, stretching her arm further across the bed before turning to find herself alone. She sat up and was surprised to see him sitting in a chair at the foot of the bed. His naked, sculpted body was dabbed with paint as he slumped in his seat, sleeping fitfully. She tiptoed over and circled the bed to peek at the canvas.

She caught her breath as she saw herself there, looking strangely exotic and lustful in her sleep. It was the first time he had painted her in any other way than from memory and she felt an odd sort of warmth and satisfaction rush through her, along with a strong measure of embarrassment for the sensual depiction of herself.

She looked down on him and lightly ran her fingertips over his cheek. At that moment, she wished she could paint or draw so that she could capture his beauty the way he had hers. She lowered herself to the floor and leaned her head against his bare thigh, looking up at his newest creation. Whenever she looked in the mirror, she didn't see what he saw. On the canvas, her skin was lustrous and sexy, not the imperfection that offered itself to her reflection. Her hair on his canvas spilled over her shoulders and fanned the royal blue sheets instead of the way it normally looked lifeless and blandly blonde, hanging there with a life of its own.

She sat there for a long time, marveling at the technique of his brush strokes and at his amazing ability of seeing what wasn't there, until she no longer saw herself there but the two of them. She could almost make his body appear at the end of her reaching fingertips. If she stared hard enough, she could make the image into the forever she wanted with him.

Angel woke up shortly after Buffy had fallen asleep against his thigh and he smiled down at her, loving the way she ached to be close to him. He almost thought that he if were sleeping in the alley she would find him and curl up at his side rather than staying in bed alone. He gathered her little body and carried her back to bed. He glanced at the alarm clock on the way and suppressed his groan. He refused to believe that the alarm would go off in an hour and they would be heading off to meet with Lindsey McDonald.

***

a diamond delight

Buffy and Angel were ten minutes late for their meeting with Lindsey, but she was so sweet in her apology that he couldn't be irritated. She decided they would go out to breakfast as a celebration of their new business relationship and both men followed behind her like lost puppies.

Lindsey wanted to hate Angel...did that jerk even have a last name? He never caught it. Either way, he wanted to hate him. He had that dark, broody vibe going on and the only time he seemed remotely human was when he was looking at or talking to his fiancé. She transformed him into a bearable person and he almost liked the jerk by the time breakfast had ended.

He really couldn't blame him for being overprotective. Men stared at Buffy as if she were an item on the desert cart and he found himself glaring at the men alongside Angel, giving them a silent warning to back the fuck off. She was innocent and light, bouncing happily in her little yellow sundress. Lindsey was fairly certain that the dress was not meant to be sexy, but it was. In fact, it was far better than anything on the menu. She smiled and laughed, talking cheerily of their plans, completely oblivious to her admirers. Lindsey began to wonder how Angel ever let her out of his sight. She was ravishing and made a sense of protectiveness rise in him that he had never felt for a woman before.

Most of the women he had dated and slept with were ornaments on his arm. They were not companions usually, although there were a few exceptions. He was capable of being in a monogamous relationship and been in several, but thoughts of marriage and love had never crossed his mind. By the time, they headed back over the house, he wasn't just lusting after Buffy Summers, he was enamored of the girl.

Back at the house, Lindsey felt his gut wrench as the adorable couple snuck a kiss on the way up the stairs. If they kept that up, he was going to have to take on the practice of carrying antacids with him when he came to work.

"I have to go to the gallery," she announced to him, much to both of their dismays, "Do you think you boys can get along until lunch time?"

"Course," Angel said, a slow smile spreading over his lips, as if he really meant what he was saying.

"Be nice," she whispered as she kissed him lightly and then trotted down the stairs, waving once she reached her car, "Have fun!"

***

a sold out scandal

"To bad they have a restraining order against you," Jhiera said, "You missed a lovely sight last night."

"Taunting me will not help you," Darla said, "You need me to make this work, so just tell me what happened."

"A little bitter, Darla?" Ford asked, tracing her bare shoulder blade with a single fingertip, "Let me tell you what happened. Your lover - and I use that phrase lightly, of course - was fucking my girl into the wall at the club like she was a common whore."

"You would have loved it," Jhiera said, shifting on the couch as Ford sat down next to her. Thigh to thigh, they looked over at her, twin expressions of wickedness flashing over their features, "You were right. A slight threat of the ex-boyfriend and my presence sent him hurtling closer to what he used to be. He couldn't shove his dick into her fast enough. It was beautiful."

"Please," Darla drawled, "You seriously want me to believe that both of you weren't jealous and turned on by what you saw? How long did the two of you watch before you were fucking in a different corner of the club?"

"We didn't fuck in the club," Ford answered calmly, "We fucked in the car after we followed them home."

"We tried to keep up with them," Jhiera added, "But we're fairly certain she sucked him off in the car. I think you'll enjoy Angel's education of her, Ford. It would have taken you a much longer time to get her on her hands and knees."

"I got you on your hands and knees," he said casually and glanced over at Darla with a twinkle in his eye. He didn't need to add that she had done the same for him. Instead, he stood slowly and offered Jhiera a hand, pulling her to her feet.

"We're off," he said, "We shouldn't be long. Need anything while we're out?"

"Just Buffy Summers," Darla sneered.

"Meet you there," he said with a wink.

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