Part Thirteen "The Slayers"

E-MAIL: Tangofic@hotmail.com
LYRICS: All lyrics are from the Cure.

RATING: NC-17

***

with the lights and the lies in my eyes and the color
and the music's too loud
and my head's all the wrong size
so here i go
here i go again

Angel was not having a bad day. He was happy. He was thrilled, in point of fact, that he had his precious lover back. The fact that they hadn't actually consummated their relationship was not the point. She loved him. She was again wearing her engagement ring and he was filled with a sort of happy anxiety that he couldn't put a finger on.

Waiting until ten o'clock, however, to meet her at the club was an issue currently plaguing him. He spent the first part of the day painting and then finally gave up after realizing that every depiction he started to created had his lover in it...nude...in wonderfully compromising positions. He cleaned up and took a cold shower before forcing his mind in another direction. Picking up the phone, he called Lindsey, explaining the situation and the success of recent events. He had made sure to emphasize that Buffy was again his before hanging up the phone.

His second call was to Willow, to thank her for her scientific efforts the night before and to invite to her and everyone to Buffy's impromptu party at the club. He wanted her all to himself but he knew that he would have to wait a little longer. All of her friends and family were concerned and would be until they were able to look into her eyes and see that she was herself again. So, he asked her to call everyone and have them meet at the club. Buffy would be happy to dance her blues away with her friends around her.

And he would the supportive fiancé-type, until he could get her to himself.

That idea was a good one and would have worked out perfectly well if he hadn't ever actually stepped foot in the club. He waited the agonizing hours until ten and stalled enough so that he didn't walk through the doors until ten on the dot. Winding his way through the gyrating throng of people, he spotted her friends scattered around - Willow, Xander, Doyle, Cordelia - Hell, even Giles showed up.

He stopped next to where they were talking excitedly and scanned the crowd until he found her. She wasn't hard to spot. She was in the center of the dance floor with one arm raised in the air, fingers intertwined with her sister's. They were both in black leather pants and tiny tank tops that allowed ample cleavage visible to the swarm of men who surrounded them.

Angel clenched his jaw as he watched, unable to tear his eyes from anything but the sight of his fiancé inside that center of hormones. There was a twist to her tiny waist that made him immediately hard and furiously jealous at the same time. She was beautiful, desirable and dancing in such a way that made him think that she was available for the taking. He fought the urge to storm in and pull her from the vicinity of the undulating hips of the horny men around her.

He was breathing deeply and concentrating on not losing his temper when he heard a voice beside him, "This is something I thought I'd never see again."

"What?" Angel growled, looking over at Xander in frustration. If anything was not going to help this situation, it was the comments of Xander Harris.

"Buffy and Faith," he said, nodding in their direction, "Dancing together like that. We used to call them ‘The Slayers' in High School."

"Why?" Angel asked, indulging the boy.

"Because any man who dared get involved with them was slain. They were notorious for destroying men all over campus."

"This should be interesting," Angel grumbled under his breath, while keeping his focus on the tiny blonde goddess that was currently crushing his heart. Speaking louder, he added, "Destroying men? My Buffy?"

"See how Faith grinds into the poor schmucks and Buffy slips away?" Xander pointed out, not looking at Angel. Both men couldn't tear their eyes from the nearly obscene display, "Most people make the mistake of thinking that Faith was touchable just because she'd allow those guys in her pants and Buffy was the untouchable one because she wouldn't. They had it all backwards. Poor bastards."

"Explain," Angel demanded, trying to soften his reaction, but failing miserably.

"Faith would sleep with them, but they could never touch her. None of them...not even me."

Angel jerked over to look at Xander and even though the boy didn't meet his eyes, he knew that Faith had used him and tossed him aside. He waited for him to continue and finally he did, "No one could ever touch Buffy physically...until you. She wouldn't allow anyone to feel her skin, but her soul was always available. She would give in emotion as freely as Faith gave in the flesh. What ended up happening was a lot of frustrated guys. And so Buffy and Faith protected each other. I once saw Faith break some guy's nose for stalking Buffy at school."

Xander snuck a peek at Angel to see if the story helped, but he could see it hadn't. All that eloquence was rare in him and now wasted on someone who could only see the movements of her petite body.

"Don't worry, Angel," Xander added, after a thoughtful moment, "She loves you. No one could ever touch her. No matter how they try."

"You were in love with her," Angel said finally, prying his eyes from Buffy and looking down on Harris' face again. He was surprised he never figured it out before. The guy was so goofy, and involved with Willow, that after he met him, he knew that Buffy would never go for a guy like him. It never occurred to him what Xander might have felt but now it made perfect sense.

"For a long time," Xander answered, moving toward Willow, "But she never loved me back. Not like that anyway."

Angel watched briefly as Xander curled his arm around Willow's waist and jumped in the current conversation, taking on his usual nonsensical self without a thought to the conversation he had just left. It was just as well. Angel hadn't yearned for a heart to heart with him but he was glad that he had shared that piece of the past with him because the thought of someone else touching his lover sent him into a whirlwind of panic and green eyed jealousy of the lethal kind. In fact, he was still having thoughts of going after Ford.

"My God," Lindsey said, shucking off his jean jacket and tossing over his arm, "That's Buffy's sister?"

"Yeah," Angel said, not gracing him with a glance, although he knew what he would see if he did. McDonald's countenance would reflect the rest of the men in the room. He could almost see him swallowing and shifting from foot to foot as he watched the two beauties move to the music, "You just get here?"

"Yeah," Lindsey echoed, "And apparently just in time to see...Jesus, she's fucking hot."

Angel smiled for the first time since Buffy left him that morning. The idea of Lindsey going after Faith almost made him want to dance. Going after Faith, meant leaving Buffy alone and leaving Buffy alone was good for their friendship and fantastic for Lindsey's health.

***

how you move
the way you burst the clouds
it makes me want to try
when i see you sticky as lips as licky as trips
i can't lick that far
but when you pout
the way you shout out loud
it makes me want to start
and when i see you happy
as a girl that swims in a works of magic show
it makes me bite my fingers through
to think i could've let you go

Spike looked up just as Drusilla swayed her way into his pub like she was making a grand entrance to a ball. He loved that she never wore blue jeans or casual clothing, that she made everything an event. She made him feel as if he had risen to a higher level of being. She seemed untouched by the drunken people there. In fact, she looked as if she failed to notice their presence altogether. She latched onto him with those dark eyes and a hint of a smile played on her blood red lips as she moved towards him.

"Be back," Spike muttered to the man he was speaking to, cutting him off in mid-sentence. He had been irritated that all of his friends had gone to the club down the street to see Buffy and her sister rather than coming here. Even Doyle had asked for the night off to escort Cordy and he was stuck with his backup bartender. He certain that jerk was skimming the till. He was just waiting for his moment to catch the fucker and then he would toss him out on his bloody rump.

All of that was forgotten as Dru floated in, wearing a antique white lace dress as if she had stepped out of an old painting. She rarely came to the pub, so immediately he thought there was a problem and hurried to her side. He didn't care if he looked like a pussy whipped Nancy Boy. He had better things to worry about than appearing to be just as bad as Peaches.

"Dru," he said, the one syllable word coming out throaty, even though he didn't mean it to, "What're you doing here, pet? Thought we were meeting later."

"Dance with me, Spike?" she whispered, pecking his lips and wearing a dizzying smile that he couldn't say no to. His bar was playing music and there was a dance floor but the idea of waltzing there with her was the furthest from his dream of how to embarrass himself in front of his patrons. He couldn't refuse her, however, so he led her to the furthest corner of the dance floor and pulled her into his arms.

She rested her head on his shoulder, smelling of jasmine and feeling like crushed velvet. He smoothed his hand over her hair and relished in feel of her body pressed against his. If he lived to be a thousand, no woman would ever effect him like she did. It never crossed his mind to do anything but worship her and indulge her every wish. His dark queen shivered in his arms and snuggled closer to him, moving not with the music playing but with a rhythm inside her own mind.
"What is it, pet?" he whispered, kissing the crown of her beautiful head, "What's the matter?"

"It's dark," she whispered, puffing her sweet breath on his neck.

"It's night, love," he explained, feeling the eyes of his patrons on her as they danced. She was a vision of light swathed in darkness. She drew them all to her and then shed them off just as quickly. Her disdain for other men was a force they could not ignore. She wanted only Spike.

"My Angel," she whispered, "He thinks it's day but it's still night. The bad girl waits around the corner. She waits for a time to strike."

"What bad girl?" he asked, keeping his voice low and soothing.

"The ex," she said, "Jhiera...Take me home, Spike?"

"Course, ducks," he said, kissing her forehead before taking her hand and leading her to the bar, intent on telling his bartender to lock up. Drusilla began laughing uncontrollably at the sight of him and Spike turned to look at her, irritated and enamored with her insanity, "What?"

"Thief," she snickered, pointing at the bartender, "His pockets are full."

"I bloody KNEW it," he screamed, "You're fucking fired!"

"What?" the man asked, blinking in faux confusion at his employer, "What are you talking about?"

"You're skimming the bloody till, you wanker! Now get the hell out before I find a group of blokes to beat my money outta your arse!"

"You're going to believe that crazy bitch over-"

Spike's fist crushed into the bartender's angry face and he punched again as the crowd whooped around him. Grabbing his shirt, he hauled the now bloody employee over the counter and tossed him to the floor. Lowering to one knee, he growled down at the man, "Ever talk about my girl like that again, I'll fucking kill you."

***

you leave me breathing like the drowning man
breathing like the drowning man

Angel turned away from the display his lover and her sister were making on the dance floor. If he had to watch for one more moment, he wasn't certain he would be able to control himself. Every time some hard-on with legs moved near her, he felt the urge to rip out the guy's spinal cord and show it to him. Even though she slipped away with a little smile, he knew it was just a matter of time before one of them touched her and then he knew he wouldn't be responsible for his actions.

i'm the waiting beast
i'm the twisted nerve

As he turned, he saw her duck out of the circle and weave through the dancers to get to him. He waited, his face screwed into a scowl that even the beautiful sight of her approach couldn't chase away. Buffy hopped up without warning and wrapped her toned legs around his waist. Her skin was hot and adorned with a thin sheet of sweat form her exertions. She pressed against him, feeling his oncoming arousal.

"Hey! You're not leaving, are you?" She asked with a confident, irresistably sexy smile, inches from his lips. He wanted to kiss her, attack her mouth and claim her for everyone to see and at the same time he wanted to growl his objections to what he had just seen.

"I saw you making friends," he bit out, casting an annoyed look at the men who now freely tightened the circle around her sister.

Buffy glanced casually over her shoulder, as if she had already forgotten what he was referring to, "Them? Boys. I like you."

Angel met her cheery gaze with an unamused glare. He didn't find this remotely comical. Buffy tightened her legs around him, pressing her heat against him suggestively, "I love you."

She hopped down as she saw that his unforgiving ice was refusing to melt. She nipped at his neck and licked the tiny wound before repeating the process. In moments, he had almost forgotten the dance entirely. He threaded his fingers through her slightly damp tangle of hair and bent down to slant his mouth against hers, placing a possessive and brutal kiss there. He delved into her mouth and she returned the kiss, tasting of warm vanilla sugar and adrenaline.

"I love you," she whispered again, licking his lips as she pressed against him. After a few moments, she huskily added, "I think you should take me home."

"Home?" he echoed in confusion, "Your friends and your sister are-"

"Going to be just fine without me. I said tonight is for you," she said, sliding a tiny hand over his chest, "and I meant it."

"I don't want to tear you away from them," he answered, struggling to remain focused as she mashed her body against his, "I know they've all missed you, love."

"I want to be alone with you," she answered, threading her fingers through his hair, "I feel like you haven't touched me in so long."

"I haven't," he answered, meeting her gaze with equal lust. A slow smile spread across her lips as she kissed him again and then said, "Just let me tell them all goodbye and you can take me home, kay?"

He nodded as she moved away, joining her circle of friends. He watched as she worked them, jumping in the conversation for a moment and making them all feel loved and needed. She wrapped an arm around Giles and hugged him as she talked to everyone. After a few quick minutes, she had said her goodbyes without anyone looking upset or in the least bit slighted. He smiled proudly at her. She was a wizard with her family.

He watched as she wound her way back onto the dance floor, keeping his eyes trained on her firm, leather encased ass in spite of his efforts not to. She whispered into Faith's ear and the wicked smile at spread over her sister's red lips told him that she had told her the truth. She was going home to sleep with her slighted fiancé. Faith looked up and met his eyes, grinning a knowing grin. He looked back casually as if he had no idea why she was smiling, but his eyes betrayed his emotions. Angel didn't care if the whole club knew what was going to happen next.

***

RATING: NC-17

AN: SMUT WARNING. Please do not read if you are underage.

******

i've never been so colorfully-see-through-head before
i've never been so wonderfully-me-you-want-some-more
and all i want is to keep it like this
you and me alone
a secret kiss
and don't go home
don't go away
don't let this end
please stay
not just for today
never, never, never, never, never let me go

Buffy jumped in the shower when they got home and when she came back out, Angel had changed out of those wonderful leather pants and was lounging on the couch, reading a book. She was certain it was chalked full of fun words to know and say like "thee" and "thou." But she didn't care.

He was so beautiful. So large, lean and hard all over. She took a moment to take in his deliciously broad shoulders, muscular chest and lean, rippled stomach. His long legs were stretched out on the coffee table, crossed at the ankle as he read, pretending to be relaxed. She wondered if he was actually reading and knew that he probably wasn't as he set the book aside to look up at her.

She shuddered to think of the time that she supposedly went without him. The look in his eyes was still fearful and desperate as if he thought she would disappear. She moved toward him, wearing a little black silk neglige that he had given her as a surprise gift one evening a long time before. Stopping before him, she held out her hand and he took it, pulling himself to his feet. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him toward her, reaching for a kiss. His answer was longing and needy, sucking at her mouth with fierce claiming.

"I'm yours," she whispered, regretting her dance with Faith earlier. She should have known that her little dance with her sister would upset him, but she hadn't really stopped to think about it. It was tradition and her sister always brought out that tiny piece of wild child in her.

"You're mine," he echoed with uncertainty. He wanted to go back a couple of months to the time when he knew she was his and would not hesitate to shout it from the rooftops. He looked over her with equal lust and need as she pulled his hand to her chest, placing his fingertips over her heart. It was pounding inside her chest, drumming steadily there with excitement.

She covered his hand with hers and looked up into those brooding chocolate eyes for a moment before speaking, "You're the only one who makes my heart pound like this. It's only for you. No one else has ever touched me the way that you do. No one ever will. I love you, Angel. I know that some...things happened and I wish that I could remember so I could explain this better, but I know that during that time I didn't let anyone touch me. I know it because my whole life, I've waited for you."

He pulled her into his arms and hugged her against him, "I love you, Buffy. God, I love you so much."

i love it
i mean you
my face was in your hands
you looked into my eyes
you said i tasted right
and swallowed me alive

She pulled him toward the bedroom where she had lit a dozen candles around the room. He stood there and looked around for a moment before shedding his boxers and turning to her, gloriously nude and beautiful. She could see that she was going to have to take steps to bring her lover back. He obviously wanted her, but that wasn't enough. She wanted him to believe in himself again. She urged him to the bed and then went to her top dresser drawer and drew out two black silk scarves.

She tied him up expertly, having learned from him how to knot the silk so that it wouldn't slip free or be easily escapable. Still wearing her neglige, she perched on his stomach, announcing that she wore nothing underneath when her moist core came in contact with his skin. He moaned and she knew without looking that his cock was hard and throbbing behind her. She bent and lightly kissed him. He pressed up, wanting more, but she pulled away, only teasing him. Instead, she rubbed against his tight stomach, loving the feel of his skin against hers.

"I'm so wet," she whispered, dipping a finger between her thighs and pushing it inside her silky depths. Seconds later, she pressed that finger against his lips, which he eagerly sucked, lapping her honey from it.

"Please Buffy," he begged, "Let me touch you."

"No," she answered, shaking her blonde head with emphasis, "If you don't believe I'm yours, then why should you be allowed to touch me?"

"Buffy," he groaned, "You're mine. I get it. Now please, untie me, baby."

"Nope," she said. He was silenced as her fingers gathered the edge of her neglige and pulled it off of her flushed and golden body, revealing inch by inch of naked flesh. He arched against her, aching beneath her to be touched as her breasts bounced free and the silk garment was tossed away.

"Do you think anyone else has ever seen me like this?" she asked, sliding her hands up from her stomach to her breasts. She cupped them in her hands, smoothing over them and pinching her own nipples as he watched, licking his lips, "Do you think anyone else has ever touched my bare breasts but you?"

"No," he forced out, trying to tear his eyes from her beautiful breasts, but failing.

"No," she whispered, lowering her right breast to his mouth. He sucked the pebbled nipple between his lips and swirled his tongue around it hungrily. He lifted his head to suck her harder into his mouth but she pulled away and he growled in protest until she moved her other breast within his reach. He responded immediately, taking in a mouthful of soft flesh. She moaned in pleasure but pulled away again and he gritted his teeth, fuming from her teasing.

"How'd that taste, lover?" she whispered, sliding off of his chest and finally focusing her attention on his hard, straining cock.

"Perfect," he murmured as she licked the weeping tip of his cock, "Like honey."

"Mmm, yes," she whispered as she wrapped her lips around him, sucking just the swollen head of his cock, "Perfect."

"Please," he whimpered, arching up despite his efforts not to.

"Please, what?" she asked, squeezing the base of his cock in her tiny hand and kissing the underside of his length. Her words puffed tiny breaths of warm air on him, causing him to strain against his bindings.

"Untie me," he groaned, tensing every muscle in his body as she caressed and kissed.

"Uh-uh," she whispered, lashing her tongue out again and again, her senses flooding with his smell and taste, "Try again, baby."

"Suck," he begged, "Please."

"Like this?" she asked, smiling before she took him into her mouth, lowering just an inch, then two before stopping.

"All the way," he groaned, suddenly hating fucking silk scarves. At that moment, he would have given anything to touch her, to pull her tiny body up his and flip them so that he could bury himself inside her heat. He wanted to fuck the life out of her until she was bruised and screaming.

"I don't know if I should," she said, lapping at the tip like a kitten at a bowl of milk, "If I don't belong to you, then that's a little too intimate for me. Don't you think?"

"Godamn it, Buffy! You're mine," he growled, "Untie me. I want to be inside you."

"You're so sexy when you're irritated," she said, nipping at his hip bone before returning to his throbbing erection, "It just makes me wetter. I'm practically dripping for you, baby."

"Then let me in," he demanded, pulling at the scarves violently, knowing he was going regret it tomorrow when he had marks on his wrists. Right then, however, he didn't care. He just wanted her. He couldn't wait to feel her pussy hovering at the tip of his cock and sliding inside her, feeling her inner muscles shift to accommodate him.

"Why?" she whispered, still teasing him mercilessly. Her voice was innocently carnal as she spoke, "Why should I? Maybe I should just slip my hand between my thighs and please myself. Wanna watch, Angel?"

"No," he roared, "Fuck me, Buffy. Untie me and I'll fuck you. Please. Let me love you."

Moving forward, she straddled his waist and instead of settling on his cock, she pressed against his stomach once more, showing she was in control. She slipped a hand between her thighs and rubbed her clit slowly, forcing him to watch. He trembled with want and ultimate frustration as he watched her fingers slide over her cleft and inside. Her last words were almost a whisper as she said, "Do you think I should let someone else touch me?"

She squealed in surprise as she heard the material rip and his hands shot free of their binding. Seconds later she was on her back, legs spread with Angel inside her, slamming in her dripping core. She bucked against him as he pounded at her core, their bodies slapping as they screwed.

"You are mine," he growled, in an explosion of need and anger, "MINE."

"Yes," she gasped as he nearly cracked her pelvis with the force of the mating. She reared back against him, drilling him inside her harder, deeper.

"MINE," he reinforced, biting at her neck as he reached between her thighs and began twisting her sensitive nub between his fingers.

"Mine," she echoed as she came. He watched as her face contorted in pleasure and she fluttered around him in ecstasy. A few seconds later, he followed and then collapsed on his tiny lover, breathing so hard his entire body heaved.

He rolled over on his back and took her with him, resting her light weight easily on his chest. He was catching his breath as she reached up and toyed with one of the ruined scarves, rubbing it between her fingers.

"That was mean," he said, quirking a smile with his words.

"But it worked," she said grinning and then grew serious, "I needed you to understand. No one has ever had me the way that you have and no one ever will. We belong to each other."

"Mates," he said, kissing her damp forehead, "My mate."

"In every sense," she whispered, kissing his chest as she felt him stir beneath her. She cocked an eyebrow and looked up at him, "Not done yet?"

"Not even remotely," he answered. Slipping his hands under her arms, he pulled her up onto his chest and then moved his hands to her hips. Seconds later she was straddling his head. He pulled her down to his lips and lapped one sinuous lick from back to front, opening her pearled core to his lips, tongue and teeth. As he sucked her clit between his lips, she released a shuddered moan and grabbed the headboard to keep from pressing down harder and smothering him.

"Angel," she panted, as he sucked her harder, biting at her swollen flesh and then lapping it with his tongue. Mere moments were required before she came, writhing above him until he grabbed her hips and held her still. She shook and twisted as he drank down the honey that flowed free from his lover.

Her sex made a sticky trail down his chest and stomach as he positioned her over his shaft. She guided him in and sank down on him, hissing in pleasure as she did. He reached up and caressed her perfect breasts as she braced her hands on his chest and rode him, moving all the way up before falling back down.

"So good," she murmured as he twisted her nipples between his fingers, "Missed you."

"I missed you," he rumbled in a low, sensual voice as she moved in tantalizingly slow thrusts, "More than you will ever know."

***

i love you more than i can say

Hours later they laid wound around each other in a bundle of limbs, still breathing heavily. Buffy's head rested on his chest and he kept his hands roving over her, unable to stop touching the miracle that had been returned to him. She traced circles on his abdomen as she caught her breath, feeling love ebb through her, swelling more every second.

"Promise me," she whispered.

"I promise," he choked, stopping his travel over her to grip her tightly.

"Promise me again," she whispered, "I want forever."

"It's yours, Buffy," he answered, "It's always been yours."

***

Part Fifteen "Hers"

AN: SMUT WARNING. I decided I wasn't quite done with the smut, so that's really all this part is. *G* Please do not read if you are underage.

AN2: ~~ denotes flashback

***

you flicker and you're beautiful
you glow inside my head
you hold me hypnotized
i'm mesmerized
your flames
the flames that kiss me dead

When Buffy stepped out the shower the following morning, she walked into the bedroom and found Angel, not surprisingly, still in bed asleep. He had scooted to her side of the bed while she was gone and buried his face in her pillow as he lay on his stomach. She smiled as headed over and climbed on top of him so that her stomach and breasts were against his broad back. He shivered from the feel of her still damp skin blanketing him.

"Tell me a secret," she whispered, placing tiny kisses on his tattoo, tracing it's edges with her lips.

"Like what?" he answered sleepily. Even though his voice was muffled by the pillow, she could hear the smile in his voice, "I think you already know everything, love."

"Not about the past," she answered, sliding her arms over his shoulders and sliding down to trace his biceps, "About the future."

"You are the future," he rumbled. He loved it when she laid on top of him this way. She molded to him so perfectly, barely covering half of him with her tiny body. Seemed odd that his entire world was so light.

"What about me?" she asked, "What about me 50 years from now when I'm old and gray with sagging skin and a toothless smile."

"You'll have dentures," he said, closing his eyes from the feel of her lips on his shoulders, nipping at the base of his neck.

"I won't wear them," she said, "I'll have a big, toothless smile."

"I'll love it," he promised, "We'll live on jello and ice cream. Tell me a secret, baby," he whispered into the pillow, focusing on the feel of her, memorizing it. He knew that whenever they had conversations like this it was because she either wanted to know something or had something to say. This morning he was sure it was the latter.

"I can't remember what happened while I was gone, but I feel like I have been without you. I feel like the shower was too long without you," she said, laying her head on his back and rubbing her cheek on his skin, "It doesn't make any sense, but I...I missed you."

"It makes perfect sense," he answered, "And I'm glad you don't remember."

"Why?" she asked, keeping her little hands gliding over his skin, tracking over the paths of his muscles and back again.

"It was...bad," he said, "I was...It was bad, love."

"I know," she said and quieted suddenly as if she had something else to say but kept it from freeing itself. They laid there for moments, cherishing the feel of each other before he spoke, "What is it?"

"Nothing," she choked. He could feel her lips moving against his skin and it was if her untruth came into him, winding around his organs.

"What aren't you saying?" he asked, flexing underneath her as if he wanted to remind her where she lay, "And why don't you want to look into my eyes when you say it?"

"It's...it's silly," she said, snuggling into him.

"No. It's bothering you. Tell me."

"Well, I was just thinking about...anal sex." She felt him tense underneath her and turn his head in a vain attempt to look at her.

"What about it?"

"We haven't done it," she answered, crossing her arms and resting her chin on them, "And well, I know that most girls don't like it, but you do and...I don't want to not give you what you want."

"Buffy," he said, "Let me turn over. I want to look at you."

Reluctantly, she shifted off of him, laid on her side and rested her head in her hand. He turned and laid on his side as well, looking at her seriously for a moment, "I don't need that. If you don't want to then there's no reason why we should."

"But...you used to do it with other women and-"

"Baby, we've been over the ‘other women' conversation a million times. I'm not interested in other women. I love you. I want you. I'm perfectly content with what we have. I don't need that."

"Does it...hurt, you know, a lot?"

"Buffy," he said, "Why are you so worried about this all of a sudden? Have I ever given you reason to think I wasn't satisfied with what we already have? Believe me, love, I'm am really satisfied with us. In fact, I plan to continue making love to you for the rest of my life."

"So, it does hurt a lot, huh?" She asked, keeping that strange little determination etched on her face. It was almost as if she were already in pain.

Angel sighed before he began, still not clear on where this conversation came from, "Yes. It hurts. From what I understand, it hurts in the beginning but then is pleasurable."

"Wanna try," she whispered.

"Why?" he demanded, but feeling himself grow excited. He would love to do it but he was still concerned about why she did.

"I want to give you everything," she said, tears filling her eyes, "What if you aren't getting what you need from me and then..."

"Are you saying that you think I'll cheat on you because we haven't had anal sex?" he asked incredulously, sitting up in bed and running a hand through his hair in irritation.

"I don't know," she said, sitting up as well and biting her lip, "I just...can we try it?"

"I'd never cheat on you," he said, grabbing her hand, "I don't care about that. I thought we resolved this issue years ago. What is this really about?"

"I don't like the idea of other women knowing things about you that I don't know," she said, "feeling things I haven't felt. It makes them more a part of you than I am."

"Did you see one of my exes or something?" he demanded.

~~

dust my lemon lies
with powder pink and sweet

Buffy and Faith were still laughing and talking like teenagers as they headed into the club, feeling defiant and rebellious as if they had snuck out of their mother's house before going there. Their reunion after so much time apart made them wind back into time when they were friends and comrades, defending each other from the rest of the world.

Faith, fearless and wicked as she was, needed a lot more protecting than most people realized. She always depended on Buffy to make her feel real. No one else seemed to achieve that except for their mother, but she hadn't been able to fill that role since Faith was a little girl. Her rejection of authority had caused her to push Joyce aside once she became a teenager. The result of those actions and her treatment of her mother in the years before her death was a regret that she would carry around with her for the rest of her life. She wished she had grown up even a day before the accident so that she could tell her mom just how much she really did love her. But that would never happen now. Now all she had was her golden sister, the good one.

"Well, if it isn't the sisters," Jhiera sneered as she stepped in their path. She looked over Faith coldly as she stood there. That murderous bitch had to know that she felt no fear. Women like Faith Summers could smell fear on an enemy a mile away. Jhiera wanted nothing more to intimidate the whorish sister but she knew that would never happen. She would settle for the role of cunning adversary.

"Do we know you?" Buffy asked in confusion. Faith kept silent, drawing blood as she sank her teeth into her jaw. She couldn't let Buffy know she knew who Jhiera was and was already planning how to steer Buffy away from this woman who knew a little too much.

"I'm Angel's ex-lover," she said in a sultry croon.

"One of the many," Buffy spat, "I'm sure you think you're special. They all do."

"I'm sure they do," Jhiera answered, unruffled by the comment, "They all felt special until he left them for me. Do you know how many women he left for me? Some of them in mid-date."

"Bet it wasn't in mid-fuck," Faith offered with irritation.

"So desirable and yet he's marrying me," Buffy said, pretending to muse over the concept, "Strange, huh?"

"So innocent," Jhiera soothed, "So sweet and vanilla. How many ways has he had you? In every way?"

"Shut up, bitch," Faith cursed, "Or I'll shut you up."

"Threatening me, Faith?" Jhiera asked, using her name loudly and with emphasis and then turned to Buffy without waiting for a comment, "I bet there's a lot of things he hasn't done with you. Probably doesn't want to corrupt your cute little body."

"Get out of our way," Buffy said, preparing to charge forward and knock her out of the way before Faith beat her to a bloody pulp.

"I'll go, honey," Jhiera said sweetly, "And I'll be waiting for when Angel wants a little kink. He loves it, you know? Oh, you probably don't."

"Angel gets all he needs from me," Buffy said, defending herself and not really knowing why.

"All he needs," Jhiera mused, backing away, "But is it all that he wants?"

~~

why won't you just believe?

"Faith and I ran into one of your ex-lovers at the club before you got there," she said, looking down at the covers instead in his eyes, "A beautiful Asian woman in all leather with short dark hair."

"Jhiera," he muttered, "What did she say to you?"

"She said that you...liked things that you wouldn't do with me," she said quietly, "That you would go to someone else for."

"Buffy," he said, nudging her chin up so she would look at him, "I would not go to her or anyone else for sex. I have all that I want with you."

"Wanna try it," she said again.

***

shifting crimson veil
silken hips slide under my hand
swollen lips whisper my name
and i yearn
you take me in your arms
and start to burn

Angel and Buffy spent a great deal of the morning debating over the point. It wasn't that Angel didn't want to do it. He did. He just hated the idea that Buffy wanted to do it because she was afraid she would lose him to some other woman. It was interesting that the confidence she exuded last night had drifted away with the sun and now he was the one reassuring her.

"Make love to me, Angel," she requested, "I want to feel you inside me."

It was her innocent final request that broke him. That and the sight of her on her hands and knees before him, baring herself for the taking. She gasped in surprise when he flipped her on her back and kissed her deeply, his arousal throbbing and hard against her. When he finally released her mouth and began kissing over her body, she wrinkled her brow in confusion.

"Angel..." she moaned, half pant of pleasure, half unasked question.

"Patience, love," he murmured before pulling one painfully erect nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it slowly while his hand occupied itself with the other. She arched against him as he kissed the soft underside of her breasts before moving his mouth to the other soft globe.

"Perfect," he said, his breath hot and wanting against her skin. He cradled them in his hands as he moved from one to the other, worshiping, caressing, licking and sucking. He steamed a trail from the valley between them to her navel, which he dipped in to taste before moving further. He left soft kisses over her belly, rubbing his cheek across her womb.

Finally, making his way down further, he parted her thighs and rested between them, inhaling her scent and placing kisses on her outer lips before licking through to taste her. He smiled at her groans of pleasure, the breathy release of his name and the way her hips lifted involuntarily. She spread wider as she lifted her lips, presenting herself like the gift she was against his questing tongue. He brought her to the brink, just seconds before climax and then urged her onto her knees once more. She whimpered in need and shifted quickly.

He admired the view of her flushed and exposed sex as he applied a thick coat of lubrication to his cock. Her clit was swollen and her core was weeping in need as squirmed there, waiting for him. He added lubrication to his fingers and kissed along her back as he pushed one inside her puckered opening. She released a harsh breath at his violation and tried to focus on his kisses.

"Relax, baby," he whispered against her skin, "Just relax for me."

She closed her eyes and calmed her body as he pushed a second finger in, preparing her and stretching the tight entrance. She tried not to think about how much larger his cock was, about how he was going to tear her in half when he entered her. She failed to think at all when he began manipulating her clit with his other hand, moving in painfully slow circles until she was crying out and pressing against him, begging for more pressure.

She felt his fingers slip out of her and the familiar sensation of his hand smoothing gently over her ass. She tensed immediately and he immediately sped up the circles around her clit, leaving her burning. She was crying out for more as he pulled away and pressed the tip of his sex against her. As he inched inside her, she felt uncomfortably full and pain shot through her. She stretched around him and grunted in pain.

"Stay with me," he whispered, peppering kisses over her delicate back. She struggled to relax as he moved further inside her, painfully filling her and moving slowly. As he moved all the way inside her began to withdraw only to thrust slowly inside her again, the strangest thing happened. It began to feel good. Better than good. In fact, she was almost surprised when she pressed back against him and heard a voice she recognized as her own hissing in pleasure.

He smiled behind her as he sped up his strokes, finding purchase on her narrow hips. Bucking against him, she tossed her head back, panting. They chanted each others' names in the morning sun, experiencing each other in a whole new way.

***

she listens like her head's on fire
like she wants to believe

Faith used the key Buffy had made for her the day before to sneak into the apartment in the late morning, hoping Buffy and her fiancé had slept in. As she closed the door as quietly as she could behind her, she heard very clearly that they were both awake and quite busy. She blushed in a very un-Faithlike manner to hear the sounds erupting from her previously chaste sister.

"ANGEL!" Buffy screamed, damn near shattering the windows in the apartment as Faith stood in the center of the living room, uncertain of what she should do. Buffy panted her lover's name and Faith could hear his low, rumbling voice meeting hers in a concert of pleasure.

"Fuck!" Buffy screamed out as she climaxed. Or at least that's what it sounded like to Faith as they spiraled together in screams of release. Faith tiptoed to the couch, reddened by the sound of her sister doing things that she herself was notorious for. She laid down there guiltily, trying to decide if she should pretend she was asleep.

"I love you, Angel," Buffy announced in a breathy, pleased voice.

"I love you too, Buffy," he answered, "Always you. Only you."

As she listened to the laments of love between her sister and future brother-in-law, it was painfully obvious to Faith that she had left Lindsey's ten minutes too soon that morning. She wished she could make herself believe that there really was love like that, but she had long given up on such silly notions. And yet, when she heard the tone in her sister's voice, somewhere inside she knew it was true. The perfect happiness radiating through the entire apartment was almost intoxicating and Faith knew that even if such emotions were impossible for her, she would kill to make sure that Buffy got to keep them.

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