The Flip Side of Primal Force, Part Two by Tango


DISCLAIMER: Don't own them. Unfortunately.
SPOILERS: Spike gets his revenge...with a little help. B/A Shipper, I
DISTRIBUTION: Sure, just let me know.
FEEDBACK: Please, please, please! Need it!
RATING: NC-17. **Serious smut warning**
LYRICS: All lyrics are from The Cure


//you draw your claws. a hidden rage consumes my heart.//

Spike was drunk and it was slowing down his plot for revenge. He didn't mind
though, because he was willing to do anything to wash that bitch from his
memory. He wanted nothing more than to kill her, but the quandary he faced
was that planning revenge involved thinking about her. He laid on top of the
sarcophagus just inside the door of his crypt with the almost empty bottle
dangling from his fingertips. He was bare chested, since he had ripped the
shirt he had been wearing to shreds. It smelled like Buffy. The whole damn
place smelled like Buffy and it was driving him insane, which is why he had
chosen the sarcophagus as the place to drown his sorrows - it was one of the
few places in his whole crypt that he hadn't made love to her. He liked the
feel of the cold, rough stone against his skin.

He was close to passing out when a fresh whiff of her smell entered the
crypt and he raised his head just in time to see her leap up and land on top
of him. The force of her slight body landing on his made the bottle slip
from his hands and crash on the floor.

"Bloody hell, Slayer!" He yelled and blinked his blurry eyes at her. All he
could see was creamy kissable skin and a downpour of golden hair, "What are
you doing here? Shouldn't you be off prancing happily ever after with your
bloody Poof?"

"Hi Spike," came her throaty whisper, leaning over him so he could see a
good amount of her chest.

"Sod off, bitch," he spat, feeling warmth spread through him from the
contact with her, "I don't know what you're trying to pull, but I know that
you're back with Peaches."

"Do you see Angel?" she whispered seductively, "He's not here. I want you."

"Don't fuck with me, Slayer," he said, feeling the tiniest slice of hope
spring up inside his dead chest.

"What? You're so afraid of Angel that you won't make love to me?"

"I'm not afraid of that bloody ponce," he growled.

"Then what are you waiting for? I know you want to touch me," she whispered,
leaned further over until her mouth was inches from his.

Spike reached for the beauty that sat astride him and his drunken arms took
years to reach skin that disappeared. The bottle crashed to the floor and he
sat up, startled and looked around.

Another dream. Damn it. And now his liquor was gone. He laid back down the
lid of the sarcophocus and covered his eyes his arm with a groan. When would
the torture stop?

"Spike," A female voice sang from the door.

Obviously, the torture wasn't going to end tonight.


//in the fading light and through the dark
your eyes shine bright and burn
like fire burn like fire in Cairo burn like fire burn like fire//

Buffy entered silently, tiptoeing through the garden atrium and into the
mansion. She peeked into the heavy drapes to see him sitting and staring
into the fire. He flinched ever so slightly when she peeked inside and she
knew that he already knew she was there. He didn't look over, however. He
kept his eyes trained at the blaze before him.

He was bare chested and the fire splashed reds and oranges over his skin.
Gorgeous. Her mind always had a hard time completing a thought when he was
even partially naked. He was one striking vampire.

"Hi baby," she lilted and waited for him to turn his head. He turned and she
slipped her coat from her shoulders and watched his reaction to the naughty
dress she had worn. She almost lost her composure when she saw the look of
lust cross over his dark eyes.

If he had a heart, it would be pounding in his chest. If he had warmth in
his body, his blood would be boiling at her approach. He wondered if he
would always feel this way about her, if he would be anticipating her first
word, first smile, first touch every time. He knew the answer. He knew he

"Buffy," he said, his mouth curling seductively around her name. He began to
stand but she held her hand out, halting him.

"No, don't get up," she whispered lustfully, "Sit right there and let me
come to you."

He nodded in silence and watched her play out her preplanned role. She
slinked across the room, making each move tantalizing and slow. She wanted
him to take in every inch of her dress and every inch of what it wasn't

Angel thought was going to explode before she reached him. If she hadn't
bade him to remain seated, he would have already ripped the tiny piece of
crimson silk from her body. In the back of his mind, he reasonably
understood that she was seducing him, but the lust rearing to the front of
his mind didn't take note. Whatever she was intending, it was working. He
was sporting an arousal that threatened to disintegrate his brain. The
movements of her body in that dress in the firelight were what dreams were
made of.

She knelt over his lap in the chair and pressed against the arousal she knew
was there. She smiled as she settled against him, knowing that her plan was
working. His hands automatically brought themselves up to touch her body as
she kissed him, devouring him. She broke the kiss and traced a finger over
his bare chest.

//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//

"Do you like my dress, Angel?" She asked with a coy little smile. He nodded
wordlessly, unable to form a coherent statement.

"I got it for you," she added. He wanted to thank her but he just stared,
letting his eyes travel over the silk that covered her, landing on the
nearly bare breasts in front of him. He waited for his cue to make love to
her but allowed his hands to roam over her back and firm bottom. She wiggled
in his lap and his eyes widened as her wetness hit him along with the
realization that she was completely nude under that dress. He began to throb
against her as she began kissing his neck and chest, while the silk glided
over his skin.

"Oh God, Buffy," he forced out, his voice hoarse and laden with want. She
smiled broadly at him, blinding him with the radiance that shone off her. He
reached between her legs to caress her but she brushed his hands away. He
looked into her eyes with surprise, unsure of why she didn't want him to
touch her. The only answer he received was a smile and a naughty gleam in
the eyes of his temptress.

She pulled the slight piece of silk from her body, ripping it in two pieces
and securely tied one of his wrists to each arm of the chair. He docilely
allowed himself to be bonded to the chair and smiled as he waited for the
next step. She stood up and he groaned in disapproval. Her naked body was
painted in firelight as she knelt before him and removed his pants, sliding
them easily over his hips and past his bare feet. She smiled up at him in
lustful silence as she caressed his arousal through his black silk boxers.
She tormented him with teasing strokes for several minutes before she
removed them as well.

"Buffy," he growled, as she gripped his thick cock and breathed hot little
puffs of air over the sensitive tip. The sound of his lustful, rumbling
growl sent shivers through her inflamed body. She flicked her tongue
quickly, tasting him. He gripped the arms of the chair, focusing all of his
control into not ripping the already tattered dress into shreds to free
himself and pulling her onto his lap.

She placed tiny, wet, tantalizing kisses over his length, while her hands
moved over him in whispers. His body reverberated in a constant, enkindled
growl. Finally, she took him in her mouth, moving over his lap slowly,
keeping with her seductive pace. She stopped after only a few, heaven filled
minutes and climbed on his lap once more.

She moved her lips to his and he sucked her tongue into his mouth, devouring
her mouth with his want. She hovered over his lap. Her lips were the only
part of her that touched him while they kissed and he was going crazy with
need. She moved her hands over his chest and pinched his nipples lightly,
then harder as she swirled her tongue in his cool mouth. She broke the kiss
and looked into his eyes. Dark and clouded with lust, he stared at his
lover. The silence was filled with her quick, excited breaths. He waited for
long moments as her green eyes met his.

"Buffy," he growled again, the fierce sound a begging whimper in vampire

"Tell me what you want," and she moaned as she nibbled on his neck and jaw

"I want to be inside of you," he said in a erotic declaration. She lowered,
placing him just inside her wet, throbbing heat. He jerked his hips up, but
anticipating his motion, she held his hips fast and unmoving against the
chair. He cried out in protest and she bit at his lips, taking control of
his groans.

"Tell me what you want," she repeated.

"Deeper," he moaned, "Need to be inside you...completely" Obeying his
request, she slid down, holding on his protesting hips as she seated him
fully inside her passage. She rubbed her chest against his but kept him
still inside her, massaging him with her inner muscles.

"Please," he moaned, "Move...before I die."

//it was sweet it was wild and oh how we...
i trembled stuck in honey honey
cling to me so just one more
just one more go inspire in me the desire in me to never go home//

Finally, she moved, up and down, inching him in and out of her, at a rate so
achingly slow, that she could barely stand it herself. The guttural moans
that her demon lover made were well worth the torture.

"Buffy, please," he grunted, "Gotta move faster."

She increased her pace only slightly, taking all of him inside her and then
out again, leaving him too long away from her heat. He growled in
frustration and struggled against her iron Slayer hold on his hips. His mind
was in such a bind from her torture, he wasn't sure whether he wanted to
scream in a bloody rage or spout poetic love sonnets. It had been centuries
since he had endured this level of torment.

"Harder baby," he whimpered. She responded to his request but just as
before, she only did so slightly. Long minutes passed as he rolled in
perfect ecstasy and perfect exasperation.

"God dammit, baby, fuck me," he snarled, his eyes glowing golden and
illuminating in the fire light, "Fuck me now before I lose my fucking mind."

She smiled as she moved harder against him and then harder, slamming down on
him and finally releasing his hips. The second her hands moved from their
hold on his hips, he lurched up to move harder inside her. As they came in
unison and as they found their mutual release, Angel snapped the arms
completely off the chair.


//oh i miss the kiss of treachery the shameless kiss of vanity//

"Spike," the female voice crooned again and he sat up angrily.

"God dammit!" His mouth stayed open long after he finished his words as his
eyes took her in.

"Hellmouth's been buzzing. Bzz, bzz," she said, her eyes wandering around
the room before she settled back on him, "You've been a bad boy."

"I'm sorry, pet," he said, hopping drunkenly to his feet.

"Promise you'll never hurt me again," she said, closing the distance between
them, "And I'll help you get your revenge."

"I promise, love," he said, eagerly awaiting her return to his arms.

"The bad chip in your head made you confused. I'm going to clear you up."
She finally laid her hands on his chest and pushed him roughly against the
wall, "And we're going to get rid of the little girl who tore us
apart...Tell me, you love me."

"I love you Drusilla. Always have."

Her eyes glowed yellow in the dim light, "You're going to make it up to me."


//we should have each other with cream
then curl up by the fire
and sleep for awhile
it's the grooviest thing
it's the perfect dream//

Buffy made her way home in the early morning, still warm and mussed from
Angel's short visit and happily pouting - if that was possible. She was
glowing from the night she had with her mate but irritated that she had to
leave his arms so quickly. She grinned as she moved towards her house,
remembering the torture she had bestowed on him and the torture he
returned...repeatedly. She felt her arousal return as she thought about it.
She blushed in spite of herself as the warmth traveled through her body.

If Cordy hadn't called with a stupid vision, she would still be in his arms.
But she wasn't. She was standing in her yard looking up at the tree in front
of her window remembering those nights when Angel would scale that tree and
find his way in her bedroom. For a few moments she was tempted to climb it,
but shook the idea off, knowing it was a silly nostalgic urge. She snuck in
the front door and tiptoed up the stairs, trying not to wake Willow and Dawn
with her entrance.

Once in her bedroom, she slipped off her pants and climbed into bed. She
pulled the covers up before reaching down to touch the wetness that Angel
had left so abruptly. Tracing his steps, she settled on her clit and closed
her eyes, imagining he was touching her instead. Her orgasm came quickly and
she turned on her side in bed and closed her eyes with his name on her lips.
Snuggling in, she fell fast asleep.


//i watch in fascination like a vampire//

Spike looked over Drusilla's shoulder at the Frankenstein looking vampire
that walked in his crypt.

"What the hell is that?" Spike demanded, pointing at the tall, lumbering
creature who wandered in.

"Samuel," Dru said, turning to look at the vampire and casting a brilliant
smile at him, "I made ‘im for you, Spike."

"What the fuck would I want him for?"

"Revenge," she whispered in her British female serenade, pressing a finger
to her lips, "He knows the spell to make it all better."

"Dru," Spike said with a sigh, "What spell are you talking about, ducks?"

"Samuel will take The Slayer away from my Angel. If they are together, The
Slayer will defeat us, but if they are apart...we win."



//however far away i will always love you
however long i stay i will always love you
whatever words i say i will always love you
i will always love you//

Angel didn't need to look over at the clock to know that he had been back in
LA for 2 days, 6 hours and 38 minutes. He counted her heartbeats with the
seconds, knowing just when the thump of her little heart would fall in the
time. In his mind, he made alterations for her climbing the stairs to her
bedroom, adjusted for when she went on patrol, accommodated for when her
green eyes disappeared behind her fluttering eyes and sleep took over. The
smooth piece of charcoal between his fingers glided along the page as her
image came to life and he dreamed she would step off the page and breathe
her life back into the room.

Before Buffy came back to him, Angel hadn't realized that the gaping portal
of sadness had begun to form in him again. He had forgotten that he even had
that space inside him until it came back. He missed the cracking and
splintering somehow when she wrapped her little arms around him. He didn't
notice the subtle twinges that ran up and down his arms, the place where the
emptiness started to grow again. When he left her, he hung onto a large part
of the beauty she slipped in his brain, but the love he felt every day was
gone. When that started to float away, the hole in him started growing

//whenever I'm alone with you
you make me feel like i am home again
whenever i'm alone with you
you make me feel like i am whole again//

Love was a word he never felt for anyone before her or after her. He
reserved it for Buffy. When he somehow squirmed his way back into her life -
or rather, when she charged back into his, in the very style of his quirky
little Slayer, he was filled again. Strange that he didn't notice the
emptiness until it was gone. He had changed without her.

Sitting in his bedroom, the charcoal sketches were a poor representation of
her face. He could draw her arms reaching out for him, but the room got
colder every second she was gone. Sometimes his enhanced sense of smell was
a gift, sometimes it was a tool, but tonight it was an instrument of torture
because everything smelled like her, even though she hadn't been in it for
over a week. He glanced up from his drawing to the clock. It was midnight.
If he left now, he could be there by 2 AM. He deliberated for approximately
30 seconds before he was out the door.


//then an angel would come
with burning eyes like stars
and bury us deep in his velvet arms
and the rain would cry as our faces slipped away
and the rain would cry
don't let it end...//

Buffy felt as if Angel was permanently etched in her skin, as she floated
through patrol. She was wearing the shirt she'd stolen from him - a black
silk one he had tossed hastily over the chair as they were preparing to make
love the night she left LA. There's something about silk on her naked skin,
sliding over her bare nipples with each breath she took, that made Buffy
feel sexy. The shirt enveloped her, engulfed her completely, the way Angel
had...again and again. She sighed as she walked, holding a stake lightly in
her fingertips.

She had forgotten the cozy persona she took on when she was wrapped in his
love, the way her toes barely touched the ground when she walked.
Everlasting love - that's what they had. Real love that lasts through
betrayal, through heartache, through death, through ultimate betrayal,
through everything, no matter what. She could hardly believe that she had
gone, in a few days, from mooning over how everything was wrong, how she no
longer felt anything into remembering how he turned her life around.

She missed him every day before, even when she hadn't allowed herself to
think about it consciously. She could hardly believe who she had become in
his absence. After he left, she was certain she would never find anyone else
who could look at her and see *her*, not what she showed them or what
they've perceived of her. She smiled happily as she strolled, forgetting
that she was on patrol until a vamp materialized in her reverie.

Slayer senses were a god send, especially when she wasn't paying attention.
She swung, dealing a forceful below against the vampire's jaw. His head
snapped to the side as her fist contacted, following closely by another. Her
third swing threw her off balance when her knuckles made contact with dust.
She stumbled forward into strong arms, who swept her against him, devouring
the mouth that had dropped open in surprise.

"God, I missed you," Angel said, nuzzling against her soft hair. He closed
his eyes and pulled her tighter against him, moving back to her warm,
waiting lips. She felt a twinge inside her as he pulled her breath into his
urgent mouth and a cold chill curled over her spine.

She meant to say, "Me too," in between fevered kisses, which grew deeper
with each second but lost the words against his mouth. He fumbled with the
buttons of his Italian silk shirt, trying desperately to remove it from her
body. The coldness taking over her body became complete with a silent click
and she pushed him away.

"What's wrong?" He asked, concern on his face.

//i would tell you that i loved you
if i thought that you would stay
but i know that it's no use
that you've already gone away//

"I can't do this anymore, Angel," she answered, her eyes cold and icy green.

"What...what do you mean," he asked in an almost whisper, keep his instant
terror in check.

"I don't think we should see each other anymore. This...long distance thing
isn't working for me," she said, each word clear and concise, cracking
against him like a whip.

"Buffy," Angel said, his eyes filled with pain and sorrow, "I thought you
loved me. said you wanted this."

"You were right the first time, Angel. I need a normal guy. Someone who
isn't a demon. I've had enough of this freak show." She turned on her heel
and began to walk away. He moved quickly, pulling her back around to face

"Buffy, I love you. I'll walk away if that's what you want, but I don't
understand. What happened?"

"Nothing, Angel," she answered, "I just don't think I love you. I thought I
did, but I don't. I want more than you can give. How could you believe that
I could actually love someone like you? You're a vampire. I'm The Slayer. Do
the math."

Angel looked away but she didn't. She was looking straight at his face, in
his eyes until he had to turn his head. He looked up again and said nothing,
waiting for her to say anything else. But she didn't. Angel's heart broke.
His heart broke and fell from his chest.

It's not real, he told himself, This isn't even me. It's someone else that
just died.

She began to walk away quickly and he stood, dumbfounded and confused as she
retreated. He opened his mouth to speak but found he had no words, no
breath, no thought. There was nothing. Not anymore.

He stood there and watched her walk away. He kept telling himself to turn
around, to look away. The breeze blew her hair slightly and he could hear
her new tennis shoes squeaking as she walked. He could hear the rustle of
her clothes. He could almost feel her breath as if it was on him again, but
she didn't turn around.

It didn't matter if he watched. It wasn't even real. It wasn't real. He
didn't know if the tears hit his face. He didn't know if the cries left his
throat and he didn't know what happened after that. He just remembered
thinking how stoic she was as she left. He remembered thinking how she loved
that about him before. Mysterious and unemotional. . .and gone.


//smash them with an iron rule
spit them out like sand
sit and wait
then run like hell
run like hell one time again
sow the seeds of hate underneath destruction//

"Are you going to tell me what the spell did to The Slayer, pet?" Spike
asked, curled around her soft, naked body.

"Spike..." her wandering voice replied, "You only think about The Slayer.
You promised you would make it all up to me."

"I will, love, I will. I just want to know what's going to happen. Have to
know if I'm going to help us win."

A long pause followed as she weighed his words. "She'll forget," she

"Forget what?"

"First she'll forget that she loves Angel. Then she'll start forgetting
other things."

"What'll happen, ducks?" He said, looking in her evil eyes as she turned to
face him.

"She'll forget she's The Slayer and she'll die."

Spike felt sadness and regret pulsate through him but it only lasted for a
moment and he didn't move from Dru's arms. He knew this was where he was
supposed to be all along.

Buffy doesn't love me, he thought, and pay back's a bitch.


//it goes dark
it goes darker still
please stay
but i watch you like i'm made of stone
as you walk away//

Angel finally got his feet to move and he followed Buffy home. He stood in
the darkness as she let herself in the house. She never looked over her
shoulder. She never hung her head. She never even looked sad. He stood for a
long time outside her house, trying to fit the pieces together. There was a
detail here that he was missing, a clue that he was overlooking, but he
couldn't find the thoughts.

Time came and left and he found himself standing in the same spot where she
had left him. It might have been hours or days. Time lost, he began to walk
again. He walked away from where he could still feel her warmth. Further
away from where his soul lay on the street. Ridiculous that someone could
touch him so deeply after centuries of living, that one person could destroy
him in a single sentence.

He didn't know where he went. He just kept walking and walking, trying to
find himself somewhere in the streets. Faces who passed were part of another
dimension, the one when he used to be interested and amused by. He walked,
looking for the place that didn't hurt, thinking maybe if he found it and
stood there long enough the searing pain would fade to numbness. But it's
not that easy. Peace doesn't rest on the corner of the street. If it had, he
would have found it. Peace is much better at the game than that.

He drove home slowly, barely paying attention to the road. All he could see
was her face as she told him she didn't love him anymore. All he could see
was the coldness in her green eyes. All he could feel was his heart dying
inside his already dead chest.

The fact that both he and his car made it home unscathed was a miracle. He
didn't realize that several other cars almost collided with his while he was
busy swimming through an ocean of frozen tears. He stumbled inside the
hotel, barely missing sunrise. He sat down on the steps and looked at the
floor, lacking the strength or the ambition to go further.


//you never looked as lost as this
sometimes it doesn't even look like you//

Cordy watched Angel sitting on the stairs all day like a large, sexy piece
of granite. He hadn't moved or spoken. She, along with Fred, Wesley and
Gunn, had tried to talk to him and get him to snap out of it, but he
wouldn't move, speak or even look up in acknowledgment of their voices.

Angel had never felt so indifferent about words before. They were all
staring at him and even though he could feel their eyes burning into him, he
couldn't find the need to look up. Their words bounced off of him, ping
ponging around the room. He held onto his memories of the events that had
passed with Buffy, trying to keep them from escaping. He felt like he had
signed his name on an invisible dotted line that sealed his future, arranged
his fate. He allowed himself to be led again, back to where he came the darkness.

"We have to do something," Cordy whispered to the group in Wesley's office.

"What do you propose we do?" Wesley asked irritably.

"Yeah, I thought we tried everything already," Gunn agreed.

"I'm calling Buffy," Cordy announced picked up the phone. Three sets of eyes
followed her movements, unable to come up with an argument of why she
shouldn't call.

"Hello?" Buffy's voice answered, sounding fresh and pleasant in the late

"Buffy, what the hell did you do to Angel?" She demanded.

"What do you mean, Cordelia?" Buffy asked.

"Don't play innocent with me. Something happened and I want to know what the
hell you did."

"Well, I broke up with him, if that's what you mean."

"Why?" Cordelia screamed into the receiver. She wanted to be happy and knew
she would be extremely thrilled if Angel wasn't in catatonia-ville.

"Because I don't love him anymore," she replied, sounding as if the
information should be common sense.

"What? What do you mean you don't love him anymore?"

"Are we done?" Buffy asked with a bored sigh, "I have to go."

"Fine!" Cordy yelled and slammed down the phone, "Bitch!"

"What did she say?" Fred asked, "Because I thought you said that Buffy said
that she didn't love Angel anymore and I thought that you said that they had
the forbidden love of all time. I mean how could she not love Angel anymore?
Why would she stop-"

"Fred, shut up!" Cordelia yelled, "Something is really, really wrong here."

"I'd have to agree," Wesley answered, peering out at Angel through the

Cordelia stomped out to the stairs and stood in front of him with her hands
on her hips, "Angel."
Her words were met with silence.

She yelled in her best shrill, bitchy voice.

"She doesn't love me anymore," Angel whispered, speaking for the first time
since he returned.

"Angel," she said, her voice softening, "Something is wrong with her. She
didn't sound like Buffy."

"I've been trying to figure it out," he said, still staring at the same spot
in the floor, "But I don't understand."

"Tell me what happened," she said, sitting on the stairs next to him, "And
maybe we can figure it out together."

Angel began to speak slowly, while Cordelia, Wesley, Gunn and Fred listened

"I went to Sunnydale and staked the vampire she was fighting. I started to
kiss her and she kissed me back. Then she pushed me away and told me it
wasn't going to work. She said I was right the first time and we shouldn't
be together anymore. She started to walk away. I stopped her and then she
said she didn't love me anymore. She walked away and I followed her home."

"And then?" Wesley prodded.

"She didn't even look upset. She looked...I don't know...almost happy. She
opened the door-"

Angel stopped abruptly and his eyes widened. He looked around the room as
the puzzle piece fell into place.

"What?" Gunn asked.

"She opened the door," Angel said, peeling back the hours to embrace the
memory completely.

"Yeah?" Cordy asked, "So what? What does that have to do with anything?"

"She pulled the keys out of her right pocket and transferred them to her
left hand. She opened the door with her left hand."

"So?" Gunn said, "What does that matter?"

"Buffy's right handed," Angel announced and ran out into the sunset. They
stood around looking at each other in amazement as the doors swung silently
from the vampire's speedy exit.


//you breathe the strangest twist upon your lips//

Connections are what makes the world work. Tiny connections between people
that link them to others. Little perks in personality that allow people to
be memorable. People you've met in your life lead you to other worlds, other
points of view. That's how Willow found everyone she'd ever cared about,
through a connection clicking somewhere in her life.

The same held true for Buffy. Her connection with Buffy was how their
friendship was shaped, how it was held together. Little connections between
what was inside Buffy and inside Willow moved on the same wavelength. Willow
remembered when Tara talked about how a person has a flow. Willow had spent
a great deal of time, during her tenure as a witch, studying the flow of
those around her once she understood what Tara meant.

And Buffy was not flowing. She was grinding against herself like metal on

Willow watched Buffy's expression and her body's movements as she told her
about what happened with Angel. She told Willow she didn't love him anymore,
how she had broken up with him. But her words were contradicting themselves
as she began describing his touch on her bare skin, his lips, his hands.
Willow could almost feel him too.

The numbness that had become her reaction since she had given up magick
started to slip as her cheeks flushed. She felt him too. She felt Angel's
pain. She knew his eyes, the look he had when he was close to Buffy, paying
attention to nothing but her. His intensity was not overlooked to anyone who
knew him. The memory of Buffy and Angel together crept over her cheeks and
flushed through them, and she looked down at her feet, an ear cocked toward
Buffy's story, trying to pick up on the strangeness in her voice.

Willow listened to her, finally turned to look at her friend's beautiful
face again and struggled for a way to be a friend. But she knew that this
person speaking was not quite Buffy. Cosmetically, nothing appeared to be
amiss and yet it was. The flow was jagged and unsure. With each word, Willow
began to worry more. Something was seriously wrong with her friend.


//through the roof of your mouth
through the mouth of your eye through the eye
of the needle it's easier for me to get closer to
heaven than ever feel whole again//

Angel was glad that he had spent enough time lurking in the shadows watching
his love to know her every movement, every expression, every gesture. His
time memorizing her had been time well spent and never had been so handy as
now. Buffy was the start of something new every time he saw her. He had
watched her millions of times and still couldn't get over her beauty and
uncompromising personality. She was something recycled from millions of
ancestors before her. He knew that she took the best parts from them and hid
them behind her eyes.

I'm wrapped around your finger, he thought as he watched her at The Bronze,
having followed her there. He was living outside his emotions for the time
being. He had to because she was dancing and a large man in his early
twenties was rubbing his pelvis against her firm ass. She was moving back
against him in time to the music and enjoying it.

The longer Angel watched, the less he knew who he was. He was losing
perspective, feeling loneliness and jealousy eat up his heart as he watched
the erotic display before him. It was almost too much to bear. She had that
look on her face - that look that meant she wanted him and god - it was hard
to prioritize his actions when she was looking at that guy that way.

He wanted to rip the fucker's throat out for touching his mate. The guy's
hands were dangerously close to her skimpily clad breasts and Angel could
smell the arousal he knew very well seeping between her golden thighs. He
didn't need a reflection to know his eyes were yellow and demonic as he
watched his lover with another man.

For the first time since he had known her, she was blocked from him. He
couldn't think of what she must be thinking. He prayed that she had not
forgotten everything, that he was right and she was under a spell. Since she
had left him back there in the middle of the cemetery, everything was gone.
He couldn't stop believing that he could break the spell and she would love
him again. He couldn't live if he held on to the thought that she really
never loved him, that she only thought of him as a vampire and nothing else.
It couldn't be true. Could it? If it was true, that past six years of his
life were a lie.

//let's move to the beat like we know that it's over//

He watched as the boy's hands caressed the underside of her firm breasts and
he kissed her delicate neck, coming perilously close to Angel's mark on her.
Angel watched closely, holding on to the metal staircase in an attempt to
keep himself from ripping the boy to shreds. The bloodlust flew with
lightning speed through his dead veins as the boy grabbed her hand and
pulled her toward the door. Angel didn't know what he was going to do or how
he was going to save her, but he did know one thing - there was no way that
boy was fucking his mate.

Angel fell in step behind them and found his opportunity as she left him to
go to the Ladies room, swinging her hips in time to the beat. Angel wasted
no time. He weaved his way through the crowd and grabbed the boy by his
thick neck. He slammed him against the wall outside the bathrooms. Revealing
his game face, he growled at the boy menacingly.

"Holy shit," the boy croaked through Angel's tight grip, "What are you,

"The girl," Angel growled, "You're going to stay away from her."

"She said she's single. I swear I didn't know she was yours," he croaked
again. Angel smelled fear shedding off the boy in thick rings.

"She is mine," he growled, "And if you touch her again, I'll kill you.

"Y-yeah," he answered, "I'll leave now. Please...don't kill me."

Angel let go of his throat reluctantly and watched as the boy scrambled out
of the door and then he melted back into the shadows and watched Buffy come
out and look for her lost opportunity. He followed her rejected form home.
He felt a soft relief climb over him as she went inside. At least she would
be alone tonight.

The crumbling steps in the mansion knew Angel well and his feet found their
way around the loose stones. He hesitated at the main room, catching
unneeded breath and holding onto it as his lungs squeaked under the pressure
of performing. The dust on the floor protested at his invasion and he looked
around the old structure. It took a long time to get through the room and
past the broken chair where he had made love to Buffy.

He walked into the room, trying to get a feel of home, but somehow it didn't
feel like home anymore. It felt like hell. He felt like a parcel, left in a
room where he could remain unwrapped and placed on a shelf to become another
dusty piece of furniture, hiding from the sunlight. All of the windows were
covered with heavy draperies, laden with designs no longer sold and battered
from the beatings of the broom. The expansive rooms shot gunned to the next
as he walked through seeing it with new eyes. The straight walkways and wide
doorways gave way to another drab sign of age and neglect. He was as close
to his soulless days as he had been in a long, long time and he was so
wrapped in thought that he almost bumped right into the petite redhead
standing in plain view.

Willow stood there looking at him. He returned her stare in equally
unnerving silence.

"You know something's wrong with her," Willow said.

"Yes," he said, nodding.

"Do you know what it is?" She asked.

"I wish to God I did," he answered.

"I'm really afraid, Angel," she said, stepping closer, "Her aura's not
right. I think we're losing her."

Willow couldn't stop the flood of tears that burst from her eyes. She cried
so hard her body shook and Angel felt his eyes welling up as well.
Involuntary tears fell. Helpless, he hugged her to him and cried with her.
Unable to think of one word to say, they sobbed into each other for the
person they both loved.


//i like you in that like i like you to scream
but if you open your mouth then i can't be responsible
for quite what goes in or to care what comes out
so just pull on your hair
just pull on your pout //

Spike felt like he was a puppet on a string, resting just under Drusilla's
thumb. Her long dark hair matched the shiny glint in her eyes. She held him
under her sway and he wasn't sure just when in his life he had so completely
spun out of control. She controlled him, owned him.

Spike knew then that he had never completely been in control. Dru had always
called the shots, hiding behind her slightly crazy demeanor. She possessed
him. She always had and he knew now she always would. He had been able sneak
out in the night a couple of times in the last few weeks and look in on
Buffy and he tried to tell himself that he didn't notice or care that she
was fading away, but he could tell that she had forgotten to eat and sleep
lately. Her thin frame was getting thinner and weaker. She was beginning to
disappear. Tonight he stood in the tall shadows of the trees watching her
fight a vampire. She was slowing down. Her kicks and punches lacked the
sharpness they had before. And seemed unsure of her next move. It was almost
as if her instinct was beginning to fade.

He sensed his Grande Sire nearby. He knew Angel was watching too. Spike
turned and began walking back toward his crypt with a smile on his face, his
blue eyes darkening with the evil he had almost forgotten. His sense of self
was returning and he was glad in knowing that at least Angel suffered far
more than he.


//take it all and strike me, strike me dead//

"What have you found?" Angel said, perching anxiously outside Willow's
bedroom window at Buffy's house. Their voices were came in unhalting, urgent
whispers. Angel was just as afraid as Willow that Buffy would find them

"I think there's a spell we could do..." she said, tapering off.

"Well? What do we need to do?" Angel asked, pressing further into the

"Angel, I gave up magick. I-I was addicted to it. I'm not sure I can do this

"What? Willow, Buffy's dying. Have you looked at her? We need to do this and
now," Angel said and then rethought his words when he read the torn
expression on her face, "I'm really sorry. Can I do it alone?"

"No," she whispered, "I don't think even Tara could do this one. It requires
a really powerful witch and..."

"And what?"

"We'll need your blood," she said quietly.

"That figures," he sighed, "So what you're not saying it that this is going
to kill me."

She nodded, "It might."

"Can you do it? Are you powerful enough?" He asked, "What I mean is, will

"I have to," she said. Tears bubbled up in her eyes. She had no choice. This
one little spell would kill Angel. It would kill all the progress that she
had made in her time of keeping away from magick. And even though it would
save Buffy's life, she knew her best friend would never forgive her for
killing her soul mate. She told Angel she would meet him at the mansion the
next evening, each word dripping with remorse for what was about to happen.


//a thousand voices whisper it true
it tells me how it feels to be new
and every voice belongs
every voice belongs to you//

The night sky was beautiful and the stars seemed to know that it was okay to
shine there. The pollution allowed itself to be brushed aside that night,
being overthrown by more powerful particles and gases. Buffy was moving
quickly through her patrol and frankly, trying to remember why she bothered.
She wanted to get to The Bronze and have a little fun before her energy gave
out. Lately, it had been giving out sooner and sooner.

She couldn't figure out what was wrong with her. None of the guys she had
met lately had quite fit into the zone she needed them too. Every person she
met, every feeling she had, was lacking something. Nothing lifted her soul
to the place where there was no turning back, to the place where she knew
she had to be to find the perfect mate. It seemed like she had already met
him but couldn't remember. She searched every night for someone to fill the
space inside her, but no one quite fit. Almost, but not quite.

She was terrified that she had lost the only love she would ever know and
couldn't even remember it. It left her with a implicit degree of alarm. Fear
of being alone for the rest of her life, when she was really just beginning
it, overcame any sorrow or happiness she could feel. She saw herself
standing at the edge of this cliff, teetering on the edge. Young and foolish
with this long road ahead of her, she knew that there was something out
there waiting for her. She just couldn't remember what it was. She felt a
nagging, aching call inside herself. So familiar...

Her thoughts made a wide arc around Angel as she continued walking, looking
at the stars and feeling as if they understood. She sat down in front of the
giant Cottonwood tree at the edge of the park, leaned against it and started
her counsel with the sky. Propped against the thick, rough wood, basking in
the moonlight, she tried to regained her focus. As she looked up that the
spectacular free light show above her head, she thought about how she almost
reached them every once in awhile when the balance was right. One day, she
thought, she would find that one moment of purity that she had been waiting
for all of her life, that tiny speck of greatness that she could call her

//the columns are all men
begging to crush me
no shapes sail on the dark deep lakes
and no flags wave me home//

She finally stood and headed toward The Bronze, tired of spending her time
alone in the dark. The music took over her body as she entered, the beat
stealing her melancholy thoughts. She was quickly paired with a dark
stranger, whose skin was warm and needy beneath her fingers. He held her
close to his chest, moving against her in the dim room.

He lowered his head and kissing her lips, pressing his tongue urgently into
her mouth, signifying his want. As the kiss deepened, Buffy felt a vivid
pain scorch through her. She broke the kiss and pushed the boy violently
away, gasping for breath.

"Angel!" She screamed and sprinted out the door, leaving the boy to climb
back to his feet with confusion.

Buffy ran toward the mansion as fast as she could but her body was so weak
from not eating and sleeping that she was moving significantly slower than
she wanted and needed to. Realization of what had been happening the last
few days sprung to life and connected in her mind as she ran. Tears flew
from her eyes and rolled off her face as she struggled to make her legs move
faster. She felt half of herself fading away as she ran.

//but i never know if it's real
never know how i wanted to feel
never quite said what i wanted to say to you
never quite managed the words to explain to you
never quite knew how to make them believable
and now the time has gone
another time undone//

The first thing Buffy saw when she made her way into the mansion was blood.
Angel's blood seeping from a hundred cuts on his skin and falling into large
pools on the floor. He was inside a circle of red candles and her best
friend stood on the side, chanting in Latin, repeating forbidden magickal
words, sacrificing her lover. She screamed his name and flung herself full
force into the circle, only to be flung away by the invisible barrier that
trapped him inside like a caged animal.

"Willow," she screamed, pulling herself up from the hard floor and facing
her friend, "Stop! You're killing him!"

Willow was enable to answer while she was trapped inside the spell and Buffy
was unable to stop her while Willow was in an equally protected circle of
white candles. Buffy stood in horror, watching as Angel, fully uniformed in
game face, roared in pain. The words coming from Willow increased in speed
and urgency, as did Angel's painful screams.

He was dying and Buffy knew it was to save her. She felt his pain, if only a
fraction of it, beating against her skin, slicing her vital organs with
brutal jabs.

"Angel!" She screamed, falling to her knees with her hands planted on the
barrier, "Please. I love you. Please, I'm so sorry. Please don't die.
Please...oh god, please..."

She sobbed reclaiming her love over and over for the sacrificial lamb inside
the red circle of candles. She couldn't save him. She couldn't get in and he
was dying. He was going to die believing she didn't love him. He was fading
quickly. Buffy turned to Willow.

"Will!" she screamed, "Stop! You're killing him! I'm healed. You can stop

Willow kept chanting, unable to pull herself from the magick that had taken
over her body. Buffy kept screaming at her in desperation to snap out of it
but she kept going, each word slashing Angel's skin a little more. When his
blood was gone, he would be dust. Her lover would be lost.

//kiss you once and see you writhe
hold you close and hear you cry
kiss your eyes and finish your life
kiss your eyes
finish your life//

Buffy moved back to Angel's circle, "Angel," she cried, her voice a broken
sob, barely loud enough to be heard over Willow and the crackling sound of

"Please look at me," she begged, "Angel, please..."

Slowly, Angel was able to move his head over and look into the eyes of his
love, "Angel, I love you. I never stopped loving you. I'm sorry I forgot
again. I can't live without you. Please make it stop."

She waited for him to do something to stop it, for him to find the strength
to save himself but he closed his eyes. She crumbled to the floor and was
lost in sobs. No pain had ever felt like the loss of Angel, no death
compared to his - not even her own. She fell into a starved, exhausted sleep
that the chanting could not break into. Her body fell away from her mind as
she sobbed herself asleep. The only thing that she was sure of was that she
couldn't watch him die. Not again.


//catching haloes on the moon
gives my hands the shapes of angels
in the heat of the night
the animals scream in the heat of the night
walking into a dream...//

The friction increased with violent urgency as Spike's hard cock moved
inside Drusilla. For once a plan was successful. Everything worked exactly
as planned and they were victorious, joyful even. His undead heart almost
swelled with perfect love - as perfect as an soulless vampire can feel - for
the joining of his mate. He made love to her with abandon, knowing he was
finally free. He was glad he killed that freak, Samuel after the spell was
completed, leaving him alone with his lover.

She rolled and he moved with her. She moved to the top, riding him with
hard, sure thrusts, claiming her mate truly, at last. Now all she had to do
was get that blasted chip removed and they would tour Europe causing a world
of pain, just like they used to.

The pair of predators moved in perfect fluid motion as Spike claimed her
hips and pulled her down harder onto him. He lurched up to catch a tempting
nipple between his teeth and it turned to dust just as he reached it. As his
lover's dust settled on his lap, he looked up to see The Slayer before him
with a stake planted firmly in her right hand.

//and i shiver and shake when i think of how you make me hate
i want to smash you to pieces
i want to smash you up and screaming
i want to smash you helpless down on the floor
smash you until you're not here anymore
and i shiver and shake, shiver and shake//

The gleam in her green eyes carried with it a deadly determination and an
almost evil shade that he had never seen before. It was almost frightening.

"Buffy, I-" he started but was cut off when her fist connected with his
mouth. Blood sprang from his lips from first contact and she hit him again,
causing him to fly from the bed. His naked body made furious contact with
the floor. He struggled to get to his feet but her roundhouse kick sent him
back down when he had only made it halfway up.

//all shadows and deliverance
under a black flag
a hundred years of blood

"Buffy, listen, pet," he started again but he was only met with another dose
of hearty violence. He was sure his left arm broke with her last kick.

"Buffy, listen damn it. You're going bloody crazy!" He screamed, scooting
away and trying to run.

"Fuck you," she said, plunging the stake into his heart. She turned and
walked out of the crypt, not bothering to watch his dust settle on the musty


//i'm feeling like an animal
tonight i'm howling inside
tonight i'm feeling like an animal
tonight i'm going wild
and all i want is to be with you again
and all i want is to hold you//

Willow stood outside of the crypt, waiting for Buffy to come back out and
even though she had every confidence in her friend's ability as The Slayer
and in her vengeful anger, she was still surprised when Buffy reemerged only
a few minutes later. She held onto Tara's hand, squeezing more tightly for
every second Buffy was out of sight.

"Honey," Tara said quietly, "It's going to be okay...and you're breaking my

"Oh," Willow answered, "I'm sorry, it's just..."

"I know, sweetie, but it's okay. Really."

"You think she'll ever forgive me?" Willow asked, her eyes filling with
tears again.

"She already has," Buffy said, as she strolled out of Spike's crypt.

"But Buffy-" Willow started.

"You did what had to be done," Buffy said, interrupting her, "And you saved
my life. Thank you."

"If there was any other way, you know that I-" Willow started again.

"I know, Will," The Slayer replied softly. She pulled the redheaded witch
into her arms, "It's okay. It'll be okay."

She released her friend and walked away. Willow and Tara watched as she
disappeared into the night.

"It could have been much worse," Tara said, "And you healed yourself."

"Yeah, I'm not sure how that happened. Cleansed from a magickal addiction by
using more magick? Look that one up," Willow said with a grin.


//you soft and only
you lost and lonely
you strange as angels
dancing in the deepest oceans
twisting in the water
you're just like a dream//

Buffy went directly to the mansion, trying not to run as she quickened her
steps. She trotted inside and beelined for the bedroom. Shucking her
clothes, she climbed into Angel's bed.

"Hello lover," she whispered, taking Angel's torn body into her arms. He
moaned in pain as she cradled him against her. Lowering her neck to him, she
whispered again, "Drink baby."

"I've already had too much," he said hoarsely, "You're weak too."

"Quit arguing," she said, "I've had three full meals today and you should

"You killed my children?" He asked quietly.

"You bet your sexy ass I did," she said, the hard gleam returning to her
eyes, "I almost lost you."

"I love you," he whispered, sweeping her into his arms. Pulling her tongue
into his mouth as he moved her on top of him. Laying against the feather
pillows, he waited as she lowered herself on top of him. His smoothed his
hands over her skin, relishing, leaving a trail of baby kisses as he went
along. She sighed, closing her eyes as he worshiped her body. She smiled at
his stamina for someone who was almost fatally wounded. He refused to drink
unless he was making love to her and she couldn't keep her climax at bay
when he took her blood.

In the aftermath of sex and bloodletting, she snuggled into his already
stronger arms and nestled against him as he wrapped himself around her. If
this was what she had to look forward to - nights in arms of her lover,
safety and love filling more rooms than the mansion contained, knowing what
anticipation and happiness really was - then she wished she was immortal

"Love you," she whispered almost too silently, but as she folded her arms
around her Angel, she knew with his vampiric abilities, he heard her.

we both of us knew how the end always the end always is...

--The End--

PLEASE send me your comments at
(Come on, you guys didn't really think I'd kill off Angel, did you? *g*)