*****

Buffy woke the next morning feeling completely drained. Thankfully it was a Saturday and she didn’t have to do anything more taxing than study. Not even mustering the energy to put on real clothes, she merely pulled on a robe over her pajamas and headed downstairs. She was irritated with herself for her behavior last night; irritated that she missed Angel so intensely.

He was still as overbearing and bullying as he had ever been, maybe even worse. What she wanted and needed from Angel was respect. She was tired of being treated like the helpless wife and mother, like more of a piece of property than a partner.

Buffy sighed, knowing she was being overly melodramatic. She knew Angel loved her and she knew that he did respect her, but the mere fact that he was able to say things that were so hurtful to her, that he could disregard her feelings so completely, wounded her more than she ever imagined. She was going to be a lawyer, dammit, and she was going to have friends and she was going to go out and have some fun every now and then without feeling like she was betraying her family. She loved Angel and she loved her children, but she owed it to herself to have a life outside of them.

Feeling more resolved, Buffy lifted her chin. She saw the kitchen light was on and found Samantha sitting at the table going over paperwork. Pouring herself a cup of coffee that Samantha had obviously made, Buffy asked, “Little early isn’t it?”

Samantha grunted and shrugged in a response that was pure Angel. Smiling and shaking her head, Buffy began pulling ingredients out of the refrigerator. Samantha finally looked up as Buffy set the plate of waffles down in front of her and took the chair on the opposite side of the table.

“You need to eat,” Buffy said firmly.

Samantha rolled her eyes, but decided to humor her mother. As she pushed the paperwork aside to pull the plate closer, Buffy looked at it carefully. Her brow furrowed as she read the Roarke Enterprises letterhead on the paper. “Are you working for your father?”

Samantha cocked an eyebrow at her mother. “For Daddy?” Samantha repeated. “No.”

“Explain,” Buffy ordered.

Shrugging, Samantha said, “Well, Daddy obviously took the ‘you work too much’ line to heart. He’s at the shop a lot now, but he dumped almost all the day to day business of Roarke Enterprises on Wesley.”

Buffy looked at her daughter carefully. People tended to write Samantha off at a glance. She was a pretty little princess with a wealthy, overprotective father. They seemed to put her firmly in the ‘bubblehead’ category without so much as a second thought. But Buffy knew her daughter. She knew how much Samantha noticed things that other people would miss. “You don’t trust Wesley?” Buffy asked cautiously.

“It’s not that I don’t trust him,” Samantha countered. “It’s just ... “ She trailed off, looking at her mother with pursed lips, as if debating how much to reveal.

“I don’t think his business prospectus for the company is aggressive enough,” Samantha blurted out.

“Does your father know you plan on giving advice to Wesley?” Buffy asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

“I plan on talking to Daddy about it,” Samantha said quietly. “I think I have some fresh and innovative ideas that can really make a difference. I’ve been talking with Wesley on and off for the last week or so when he’s trying to talk to Daddy. He needs help and Daddy is so busy trying not to think about you that he can’t think about anything else.”

“Sweetheart,” Buffy said softly, “I think you would be a wonderful bonus to Roarke Enterprises. You should really talk to your father about helping out in a more official capacity, instead of just giving Wesley advice.”

“Why don’t you talk to him for me?” Samantha asked almost venomously. She took a deep shuddering breath and looked over at her mother. “I’m sorry. I really don’t understand what happened, Mom. I keep waiting for you to explain it to us but you haven’t.”

“It’s complicated,” Buffy said quietly. She struggled to say more until her eyes filled with tears. “He hurt me, Sammy. I’ve lived my entire life with Angel. I’ve never known anything else but him. Now I need to take some time and figure out what I want.”

“Mom, I don’t know if this helps or not,” Samantha said, “but he really, really misses you.”

“I know he does, sweetie,” Buffy said. “And I know he loves me, but sometimes, it’s just not enough.”

Samantha swallowed thickly, but squared her shoulders. “Do you regret having me?” she asked bluntly.

Buffy paled, her eyes wide. “Honey,” she said, shocked. “No. Never. How could you think that?”

Samantha sniffled slightly, shifting uneasily on her chair. “It just seems like you’re trying to make up for lost time,” she said. “To make up for all the things you didn’t get to have because of me.”

“Samantha Roarke,” Buffy said firmly. “Look at me. I do not regret having you. I do not regret marrying your father so young.”

Reluctantly, Samantha met her mother’s eyes and smiled weakly. “Okay.”

“Sweetheart,” Buffy said wearily, her grip tightening on her coffee mug. “Your father and I were so, so young when we got married. And like I said, I don’t regret it. But there are issues. We grew up. Circumstances changed. I love your father,” she said firmly. “But in so many respects, he wants me to be the same person that he married and I can’t.”

“Why not?” Samantha asked pitifully.

“Because I would be living a lie.”

***

It took three good jabs at the pipe with her father’s screwdriver to make the water leak noticeably. Joey grinned at the damage and snuck back upstairs. She had to edge along the wall to keep her mother and her sister from seeing her during their weepy heart-to-heart. Samantha could take the direct approach if she wanted for now, but Joey knew that in order to get her parents back together some serious conniving needed to take place.

She slipped through the front door and ran down the street and swung herself onto the Harley behind…Freddie? No, Eddie.

“It’s really fucking early for this shit, Joey,” Eddie announced as he started the Fat Boy onto the street toward her father’s apartment complex. Joey grinned at the back of his skullcap helmet and let her hands caress just shy of his groin while her lips made their way over his throat. She didn’t try to speak over the roar of the engine, but instead just hung on molding her body tightly with his.

The six minutes it took to get to the apartment was more than enough time for Joey to convince him that he had made the right choice by meeting her at the crack of fucking dawn. He pulled into the parking lot, out of sight of her father’s apartment and Joey swung around, climbing over his body until they were face to face. She rubbed her breasts against his chest and kissed him, grinding herself in his lap.

“Thanks for the favor so early in the morning,” she crooned, allowing him to place his hands on her ass and haul her in closer.

“No problem,” he mumbled. “Now what do you want to do?”

Smiling coyly for a moment, she swung her leg over him and hopped down. “I gotta go, baby,” she laughed. “My Dad’ll wake up any second wondering where the fuck I went.”

“Well…what about tonight?” he demanded.

“We’ll see,” she said, backing away, swinging her hips and smiling. “Talk to you later.”

Joey took off running once Eddie was out of sight and toward her father’s apartment. She stopped at the front door and caught her breath before sneaking in, pulling off her leather pants and crawling back into the sleeping bag between her friends. She closed her eyes again and smiled. Her mom should be calling any minute

***

An hour later when her mother still hadn’t called, Joey was starting to get nervous. Thankfully, Samantha appeared at the door just as she was debating going back and doing more damage. Samantha’s expression was drawn, her lips pursed together as she stepped over the still-sleeping bodies in the living room and found her father standing in the kitchen looking blindly out a window.

“Daddy,” Samantha said softly, “you better go over to the house.”

Angel’s head immediately snapped to her. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his posture immediately going rigid.

Samantha shrugged. “Some plumbing problem that mom’s trying to fix by herself. If you want anything from the basement to be salvageable, I suggest you go over there right now.”

Angel narrowed his eyes at his daughter. “Is this some ploy to get me out of here?” he asked suspiciously.

Samantha rolled her eyes. “Yeah, it’s nine o’clock on a Saturday morning. We’re going to start the rave any second.”

“Samantha,” Angel said, his voice rife with warning.

“Seriously,” she said. “Go help before the entire house floods. We’re not doing anything except hanging out and really, it’s better if you’re not here for that.”

Still somewhat suspicious, Angel grabbed his jacket and headed out the door.

Ten minutes later, he found Buffy on the edge of a nervous breakdown, standing in ankle deep water in their basement.

“I don’t know what happened,” she blustered, gesturing around hysterically. She was soaking wet desperately trying to stop the spray of water with her robe by tying it around the leaking pipe. Her silk pajamas were clinging to her body seductively and Angel had to take a deep, calming breath before he approached her.

“Buffy, come on,” he said, tugging her away. He peeled back her robe to briefly examine the pipe and then took her hand, leading her in the direction of the stairs.

“It’s still leaking!” she announced. “The whole house is going to flood!”

“I’ll fix it,” he said, pulling her gently toward the stairs. Buffy allowed him to take her from the freezing pond that was quickly filling in her house. They slopped water everywhere as they reached the main level.

“I want to be self sufficient,” Buffy said petulantly. Buffy crossed her arms over her chest and looked at Angel. “Stuff like this isn’t supposed to happen.”

Despite his better judgment, Angel smiled and kissed her forehead. “Pretend you called a plumber. I’ll be back. I have to get some parts.”

***

Three hours later the leak was fixed, the basement was draining its water and Buffy and Angel were seeing what had been sitting on the floor previously that could be salvaged. After the fourth time Buffy had to tear her eyes off her husband’s body to finish her work, Buffy cleared her throat loudly.

“Thanks Angel,” she said, “I really appreciate your help.”

“You’re welcome,” he answered.

“What started it?” she asked as Angel simultaneously said, “Did you sleep with him?”

“What?” they both blurted.

“Did you sleep with him?” Angel repeated plainly, far beyond the point of politeness. “Did you let him stay here with you last night?”

“Angel, that is none of your-“ she started, but she didn’t have time to finish before he pulled her up and on top of the washing machine. He kissed her possessively and groaned as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Rather than fighting with the clinging silk, he ripped her pajama top open and bent to take one of her tightly erect nipples into his mouth. She threaded her fingers through his hair to keep him there, to relish in his familiar and arousing touch.

Suddenly the world dropped away and Angel wasn’t standing in half a foot of cold water and he wasn’t living in an apartment, estranged from the only woman he’d ever loved, he wasn’t staying up nights racking his brain on how to make things better. For that one suspended moment, it was just him and his mate, his other half, working their way up to finally becoming one again.

Angel switched to her other breast, greedily sucking her neglected nipple into his mouth. He was starved for her and knew she felt the same when she began tugging at his wet t-shirt, struggling to get to his bare skin. He reluctantly released her breast long enough to remove the shirt. He tossed it away somewhere behind him and ignored the wet plop it made as it slapped against the remaining water.

They both hurried, moving frantically at getting each other out of their clothes before someone remembered this was not what they were supposed to be doing. They were eighteen again taking advantage of each other in the library while Giles wasn’t looking.

Angel shredded her pajama bottoms as he had the tops, aching to be inside her again. She worked his belt buckle expertly, and pulled at his jeans until she freed his rock hard sex. She wrapped her hands around him and guided him inside herself. They groaned in unison as he filled her, stretching her delicate channel to accommodate him. It had been so long they nearly sobbed together with the sheer pleasure of it.

Angel slammed inside her and she bucked back, violently taking him. Buffy exploded seconds after he was inside, and again moments after that. Her body hadn’t been so sensitive, so ripe and ready for so long and she cried out for him not to stop. He growled his agreement, plunging inside her again and again, lost in her scent, in the silk of her skin, in the taste of her.

When he finally felt the familiar tightening of his loins, he knew he was almost over and he gritted his teeth to keep it from ending. Reaching between them, he twisted her throbbing center between his fingers. She tossed her head back and jerked, squeezing her thighs against his hips and her inner muscles clamping down as she came. Devouring her mouth, Angel released inside of her.

***

She knew she should take charge of the situation, but it just felt so good to rest her head against Angel’s shoulder as he ascended the stairs with her wrapped around his body. It felt natural to tighten her legs around his hips, to feel the flex of his muscles against her. He laid her back on the bed and she did nothing more than revel in the taste of him, in the pleasure of his touch.

She whimpered his name, more unashamedly wanton than she had ever been. He responded in kind, reacting to her not with words, but with soft, animal sounds, with teeth and tongue and body. She twisted, assuming the dominant position as she sank down on his once-again aroused body and rode him hard.

The coupling lacked their usual tenderness and playful banter. It was a near violent; animal and raw. Buffy dug her nails into his chest, arching her back to take him deeper. His rough palms found her breasts, kneading them as he rolled her nipples between his fingertips.

Angel bent his knees, shifting his weight onto his shoulders and bracing his feet against the mattress as he used the leverage to thrust up inside her. She mewled, raking her nails down his chest. With a growl, he threaded a hand in her hair and pulled her down for a carnal, possessive kiss. He bit at her lips, using teeth and tongue to mark his territory.

She broke off the kiss, nipping along his jaw before pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to his neck. He groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head as his fingers bit into her hips, pulling her down harder and harder against him. She keened, her sheath fluttering around him as she bit down on his neck, hard. Shouting her name, Angel joined her in release.

Ten minutes later, Angel was still trying to catch his breath. “Fuck me,” he cursed, groaning.

“I don’t think I can,” Buffy rejoined with a short chuckle. “None of my muscles want to work.”

Angel turned his head, finding her lips and kissing her gently as he rolled them both over onto their sides, their chests pressed tightly together. “That was ... “

“The most amazing sex we’ve ever had,” she finished helpfully.

“Pretty much,” he said with a tired sigh. “I hope you don’t want a repeat performance because I don’t think I’m up to it at the moment.”

Her reply was a small snore.

***

On to part 7