The Taste of My Blood by Tango


DISCLAIMER: Don't own them. Of course.
SPOILERS: Set just after Graduation, Buffy makes some decisions that
change her future with Angel. (S3)
DISTRIBUTION: Of course. Please just let me know.
FEEDBACK: Please let me know what you think!! Can't seem to go on without
RATING: NC-17 (Not yet, but it will be.)
LYRICS: All lyrics are from Ben Harper.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, I realize that I am in the middle of several different
project right now, but this struck me and I just had to write it. Warning,
this might turn into a Tango-fied series. Hope you like it!


//he left home today and said he ain't coming back again//

Buffy sat on the roof outside her window absently rubbing the newly healed
scar. The skin there itched as it struggled to heal and forced her fingers
to land on it several times a day. Her body was confused. Slayer healing
wanted to erase the mark just as it had when the Master bit her, but true
love wouldn't allow itself to be removed from her skin, from her heart or
from her torn soul.

Her body was struggling with another predicament as well - it could no
longer sense Angel. All of her being reached out for him as if he were a
severed limb. Even the thousands of tiny follicles of skin reached out for
the emotional bond of her soul mate and was left with the tingling sensation
of an amputee. Just as a person still feels their missing appendage and
finds themselves in denial of its loss, Buffy's soul reached for what was no
longer there and when it came back empty, it went out again in an attempt to
retrieve what it couldn't find.

Angel had been gone two weeks and three days. All of which had been filled
with memories and thoughts of how things could have been changed. She
thought back on what he had said, what his reasons were for leaving her and
although they all made sense, she came back with one reason and one reason
only that they couldn't be together - his soul. Buffy knew for certain if
his soul could be bound, they could be reunited. She was sure she would be
able to convince him to forget the rest of his reasons.

Before she even realized her body was moving, she slid down and jumped off
the edge of the roof, landing soundlessly on the firm ground. Proactivation
was the key to her future. Shadowed thoughts of spending the rest of her
life without Angel sent her feet moving faster across the town's sleepy
demonic streets.


//you could tell by the sound and the tone in his voice that his heart was
slowly dying.//

Angel had killed three vampires and one very confused flesh eating demon,
before he headed back home to his dank little apartment in the basement of a
dusty building. He unloaded his weapons, pulled stakes out of their hiding
places and slipped out of his shirt before he settled back in his arm chair
with a drink to resume his brooding.

Only one phrase seemed to sum up the last two weeks and three days without
The Slayer in his life - *It fucking sucked.* He thought it'd been hard to
break her heart. He thought it'd been difficult to live in Sunnydale and
stay away from her. Hell, he thought it'd been tough to help her in the
end, seeing her every day and not being to touch her. But this, this was
far more agonizing than any day he had spent on The Hellmouth. This was
torture and every day it dug deeper, tearing another slice of the person he
had become away from him.

Every day he struggled not to run back to her and every day he knew it was
too late - every day it was a little too later. Immortality had always
seemed like a suffocating noose around his neck, but without Buffy, he
wasn't sure that he even wanted to earn the redemption he used to crave.
His soul was released in happiness with her and it was dying without her.


//just give me one thing that I can hold on to.
to believe in this living is just a hard way to go.//

Giles woke up to a rustling noise in his house and he grabbed a small axe
from his closet before slipping into his robe and cautiously descending the
stairs. The rustling didn't stop with his movements and fear began to creep
around in his racing mind as he took each step. At the bottom of the
stairs, sat his charge surrounded by newly opened boxes of books from the
recently destroyed library.

"Buffy," Giles said, setting his axe down on the table next to the
telephone, "What are you doing?"

"There's got to be a way to anchor his soul," she said, not bothering to
look up from the pages she was flipping through. Giles watched as she
rapidly leafed through pages until she reached the end and tossed the book
on top of a large pile with exasperation.

"Where the hell is the Gypsy curse book? Romany torture 101?"

"I don't think I have that volume," he said, smiling gently and perching on
the arm of his couch.

"There *has* to be a way, Giles," Buffy said, "There's always a loophole.
Haven't we learned that after all these years?"

"Perhaps," Giles said nodding, with sorrow in his eyes. It had taken a long
time for Jenny to decipher her own people's curse so that they could restore
his soul. What were the chances that they would find knowledge to alter the
curse so that the happiness clause no longer existed?

"Perhaps," Buffy mocked, "Please Giles. Don't be so Watcherly. You've
gotta help me."

"Okay, Buffy," Giles said, looking down at her, "But you may have to except
that there might not be a way to alter the curse."

"Nope. Sorry. That's not in the program. I'm not going to live the rest
of my life missing him and trying not to unleash Angelus on the world.
There's a way. And I'm gonna find it."


//my baby, she left me, said she ain't coming back around.
and i'm breaking down.
i'm breaking down.//

Angel didn't feel the glass fall from his hand or hear the dull sound of it
bouncing on the Persian rug as he fell asleep in his chair. The last thing
he wanted was to fall asleep and go back to those dreams. Lately every time
he closed his eyes and allowed himself rest, he fell into a confusing world
of violence and sex and Buffy. Tonight was no exception.

His dream shimmered into place and he was back in Sunnydale. His body
hummed with the feel of her and the joy of her nearness. He was walking
with long, confident strides toward The Bronze, where she was in some of his
dreams. Sometimes he walked toward her house. Sometimes he went to
mansion. But he was always walking in a fevered, anxious gait, trying to
get to her before the dream slipped away into the next phase of REM and he
was forced to dream of something less appealing.

Tonight she was at The Bronze. She was wearing what she always wore - those
blue satin pajamas that she had worn the last time she visited his dreams.
No one in the club seemed to notice she was wearing sleeping attire but they
all noticed her. She glowed - was surrounded by an inhuman light that
toasted the air and caused heat waves to form around her. The flourishes
were visible to even the human sight like the air a foot from the asphalt on
exceptionally hot days.

He blended into the shadows to watch her move with music that his dream mind
could not hear. He looked on as the silk shifted over her skin, giving him
a glimpse of a curve here and a shadow of a bend there. Boys in the club,
who *could* hear the music, swarmed around her, dancing close but were
unable to reach her through the waves that streamed off her body. They
inched up to the edge of her blockade, needing to touch the soul inside it
but could not quite get their skin against hers.

Angel watched with growing jealousy as the men responded to her, aching to
touch her. He moved away from the shadows and entered her circle. His cold
hands eased through her boundary, blending his body heat with hers. The
swells slipped into him, disappearing inside his undead flesh. She sighed
with relief as her demon salved the burn.

"Angel," she said, speaking into his eyes with unmoving lips, "I've been

"I'm here, love," he returned, his lips still with his words.

"Will you stay?" She asked, looking into his eyes. Her eyes were misty
green as if covered with a dense fog.

"Yes," he promised as he watched the breeze carry her overcast eyes back to

"I was burning," she explained, "The air couldn't breathe me."

"I know," he said as the club melted into the graveyard, "That's why I came

They walked side by side, holding hands through one of Sunnydale's many
cemeteries. Even though this cemetery wasn't familiar to him, he knew it
was a doorway to The Hellmouth, an alternate route to the dimensions below.

"We aren't safe," he said, pulling her back from her next step. Her clothes
melted from her body, streaming away in blue silk rivers as he pulled her
back. The silky streams funneled over the grass and disappeared in the
black earth beneath her feet.

"But we have to keep going," she whispered unaware of her own nakedness.
She pulled him forward and as the toe of his boot touched the place where
her clothes had dissolved, his liquified as well, chasing after her streams.

"No, we can't go any further," he said, nodding ahead of them, "the future
dies there."

"We can't go back," she said, nodding behind him in a mirrored gesture, "the
road disappeared."

"Buffy," Angel said, moving his lips for the first time since his arrival by
her side. He moved his hands over her body at the same time, tracing her
curves with delicate worshipful strokes.

"I'll die if we stand still, Angel," she whispered, moving against his hard

"I know, baby," he whispered. But his whisper got caught in his throat as
her eyes began to swirl with flecks of gold that emptied from her eyes and
changed her face to his ultimate fear. An involuntary growl shook through
his body and his face changed as well as he looked down at her.

"Who did this to you?" he demanded, with narrowed eyes and bared fangs.

"You did, lover," she answered.


Buffy sat up in her pile of books and screamed as she woke up. Her throaty
howl caused Giles to jerk awake and lift his head from his desk to look over
at a terrified little girl.

"Buffy," Giles said, rising to his feet and hurrying to her side, "Are you

"Nightmare," she said, accepting Giles' hand and pulling herself to her

"Prophetic?" He asked.

"Maybe," she said, shaking the daze away, "I don't know."

"What happened?"

"Angel killed me," she said with a shiver.

"I certainly hope it wasn't a portent," he said, pulling his glasses off his
face to clean them.

"I think it was a warning," she said, sitting down on the couch and looking
down at the pile of books.

"Perhaps Angel was right to leave," Giles said softly, "This research
project may be a mistake."

"No," Buffy said, shaking her head in disagreement, "I think it was telling
me that I will die without him. He didn't know he killed me in the dream,
Giles, but I knew he did. I'm dying without him and he's dying without me.
That's what the dream meant. It was telling me that I have to find a way."


Part 2

//for your bleeding conscience i weep//

Xander shut the rusty door of his car and crept around the busy corner in
Los Angeles, as if someone would recognize him or ask him what he was doing
there. The nondescript black bag hanging from his shoulder was kept cinched
against his hip by his hand to keep it from moving or shifting.

The back door was easy to find and the towering butcher was leaning against
it, blowing bluish gray smoke rings out into the breeze. He watched them
float away before turning his attention on the nervous young man in front of

"You Xander?" he asked, in a grunting gravely voice.

"Yeah," Xander said, nodding and pausing to look around him. The man nodded
with an abrupt tip of his head and held his beefy hand out for the bag.
Xander reluctantly handed the bag over with a frown creasing his face. The
butcher took the bag and didn't bother to look around him before unzipping
it and peering inside.

"That's two pints," Xander said, leaning in to whisper, "and the cash we
agreed on."

"Alright," the man answered and turned to leave.

"Wait. You're sure you know which vampire to give that to? We can't have
you giving *that* blood to just any pale guy who walks in here."

"I got it, kid," the man said with annoyance, "I know who Angel is. He
comes here every damn week."

"And you're going to put that in *equal parts* in two weeks of his supply,

"Yeah, kid," he said, turning to walk away, "I'm not fuckin' stupid."

Xander watched the man's back retreating and the bag hanging a lot less
carefully from his hand. He crept back around the corner and practically
dove into his car. The engine turned over after three petrified attempts
and he pulled away from the curb, heading for the quickest route out of the
city of angels and out of California.


//did it fall from your tongue without warning
or just another trick to fall from your sleeve//

Willow had to wait for three full days for the full moon to show her face
and was rewarded with a clear night. The moon had kept a section of the sun
this month and she danced in the sky, casting her stolen light so brightly
that the little witch was almost afraid to look at her directly. The
enchantress was brilliant and laughing and made Willow a slave.

After taking a few moments to gather her breath and find her focus, Willow
sprinkled salt around her in a three foot diameter, cleansing her casting
space, deep in the woods. In a deliberate, dramatic motion, she lowered
herself to the ground. Hushed Latin words brushed her lips as she began
moving her arms out around her, forming a circle of a faint purple light.

A curtain of magick fell around the small area of the woods and reached out,
shaving bark off the trees, leaving black charred marks behind, as her
usually timid voice became strong and clear. The Latin she had spent the
afternoon memorizing caused the night to halt its whispers, conditioned the
grass, told stories to squirrels of story book kings and filled a small gap
the size of a nibble inside two soul mates that could unlearn the past and
silhouette the future.


//exactly how much will have to burn before we will look to the past to
we walk along this endless path which has led us in a circle.
so here we are right back we can't let the future become our past.//

Buffy stood at the edge of Restfield Cemetery, feeling far from rested. She
rubbed her neck absently as she waited for her friend to appear and wondered
why she couldn't just meet her in the woods. After ten minutes, she began
to worry. Although Willow was becoming quite a strong Wicca, she still was
alone in the woods in the middle of the night with a full moon in Sunnydale.
There wasn't a less safe time to be by yourself in this town.

The only thing that kept The Slayer from leaving the rendevous spot was her
promise to Willow and the threat from the witch that if she showed up during
the ritual, it would ruin the whole thing. Another ten minutes straggled
slowly behind the first and finally she appeared, walking dreamily through
the soft grass.

"Will!" Buffy shouted, breaking the mood and the dream state, "Did it work?"

"I think so," she said, shaking the daze from her head, "It felt strong."

"How long until we know for sure?" Buffy asked, hopping down from the
gravestone she had been perched on.

"We can't really know," Willow said with a little fear in her eyes, "until
it's too late."

"Well," Buffy said, sighing, "I guess it wouldn't be my life if it were
easy, now would it?"

Willow laughed lightly, struggling to regain control of the power that
surged through her veins. The gift of power was so strong, she almost felt
like she could take flight right there.

"What now?" Buffy asked, scrutinizing her friend.

"One more little spell," Willow answered, "And then we're good until

Together they walked through the night - Willow walked slowly as if she were
contemplating every step and Buffy surged forward as if the night were going
to escape if they waited another second. She found herself periodically
slowing down to let her friend catch up and then forging forward once again.


//yes indeed, i'm alone again.
and here comes emptiness crashing in.
it's either love or hate,
i can't find in between,
'cause i've been with witches and i've been with a queen.//

Angel was trembling by the time he got home. Two weeks with next to no
sleep and more blood than he usually drank in four was making his skin chase
itself around the room. The dreams were getting worse, invading his mind
with cadres of Buffys. Her voices mixed up fine phrases that couldn't be
deciphered by the most spiritual of shamans.

The last dreams were enough to keep him awake into the next century. He
shuddered when he remembered how her skin kept freezing beneath his
fingertips until finally she stopped moving completely. Her eyes were the
last to stop movement, frozen in her face, turning blue to match her skin.
Her lips were wrapped around his name, a last word of fear. He knew his
love couldn't thaw her and it was chipping away those warm places still left
in his soul. He was reverting to what he had been without her. He knew it
and couldn't think of how to stop it.

The ice in his glass was making a tinkling sound but he could barely hear it
over the chattering of his teeth. Scotch, not blood, was in the glass
because the blood couldn't make her disappear anymore. The blood was making
her reappear in the shadows of poltergeists pretending to be natural. For
someone who was alone all the time, he had never felt less free. And it
wasn't just Buffy anymore or the gift he had given up in his love, but the
loss of the humanity she had given him. Just a slice but it was enough.
She had always been more than enough. Even when he couldn't touch her, he
felt her. Her essence was that powerful. Somewhere hidden among the
emotions that he usually felt were new ones rearing up and raging and
trampling. Formidable and demented, the passions were taking over his
spirit until finally he couldn't sit still anymore.


//and i know it won't be long to find myself a resting place in my angel's
in my angel's arms//

Buffy debated with herself as she walked her patrol. She barely allowed
herself time to finish speaking before she interrupted herself with another
phase of the argument. It was almost as if Angel's shifty emotions were
ambushing her mind. If thoughts of Angel were a sentence, she gobbled up
the whole line and surprised herself with the hunger left over. She
surprised herself with the amount of craving that she felt.

"It's been two weeks," Buffy said to Giles as she stormed in his flat
without knocking, "Do we know when it's going to happen?"

"In delicate situations like this, we almost never know the exact timing,"
Giles said, coming out of the kitchen with a cup of tea.

"Maybe I should go to LA," she said, sitting down, then standing up, then
sitting down again.

"There won't be a need for that."

"Why not?" Buffy said, feeling him start to itch inside her. She was fairly
certain he wasn't on his way yet and maybe he would be completely insane
before his stubborn pride allowed him to exit Los Angeles.

"The spell," Willow said, piping up from the corner, "is designed so that he
will come to you. Giles is right, Buffy. This is delicate, especially since
we had to tailor more than one spell to pull this off."

"Which is exactly why I'm worried. The time is passed. He should be here.
He could be...hurt," she said, more worried that he had hurt himself than an
innocent who happened across his path. She'd seen Angel's capacity for
insanity and it wasn't pretty.

"You have to wait, Buffy, or it won't work," Willow said, walking over to
stand next to Buffy as she restated the plan.

"I'm going out to patrol. I gotta do something," Buffy said, leaving Willow
standing there alone and eagerly walking back outside. The fresh air did
nothing for her sanity, but it was better than the double sized concerned
looks coming from Willow and Giles.

"You look worried, Giles," Willow said, looking at the closed door.

"I'm utterly terrified that this is going to backfire," he said, staring at
the same closed door.

"She knows the risks," Willow said, feeling as if she were the level headed,
wiser one today. Well, she did until Giles turned and gave her the look.
The one that reminded her of what she was forgetting.

"Not all of them," he said, voicing the look.

"She would be doing it anyway. Even if she knew. Besides the spell won't
work if either of them are aware of what's supposed to happen."

"Doesn't make me feel any better," Giles said, settling on the couch with
his tea, "I'm supposed to be helping her become a better Slayer and save the
world, not put herself in additional danger."

"I don't think you understand why she's doing this," Willow said, sitting on
the couch next to him.

"I understand," Giles said, nodding sadly.

"No," Willow said just as sadly, looking down at the stake in her hand, "I
don't think you do. Not really."


//how i hate to remember
for that means the day is past
sometimes i wonder if i know her
or if i really need to ask
or if i really need to ask//

Outside, the air strummed against Angel's face and stoked flames into his
gait. God, he felt her inside him more clearly today than he had in months
or more. She wasn't frozen, she was liquified and safe there in him. He
thought she was safe there, tucked in memories and nostalgia. He wanted to
shape the universe into a mold of what he once had. Every woman he saw
carried a small piece of her, a small reminder of what was lost, but the
pieces were too small. And they began to fragment.

A scream rang out through the alley and he jolted out of his mind to look
around for the danger. He couldn't see the woman who made the sound or her
attacker, but he knew it was a scream of pain, a howl of torment. He ran
down the alley, the sound of his boots thumping against the pavement meshed
with the sound of her screams in a rhythmic beat.

The more he ran, the more he realized that he wasn't getting any closer to
the danger which threatened her. He picked up the pace, trying to get to
her before it was too late, but she just kept screaming and he kept running.
Until he met the dead end of the alley which was the red brick wall of a
building. That was the moment he realized the screams were inside him.


Part 3

//but every moral has a story and every story has an end.
every battle has its glory and its consequence//

Angel's car would not move fast enough and it forced ferocious roars of
anger from his body. When he finally made it to Sunnydale, he had lost his
ability to put together coherent sentences and couldn't even think of her
name. He knew her though, she was carved out of light inside his darkness.

He could smell her blood as he ran through the cemetery and couldn't stop
the snarling that coughed inside and out of his body. He found her, guided
to her by his own insanity and scooped her from the ground, while he
continued to run. He didn't know where, he just knew that he had to go
somewhere else, had to save her. Her body was still warm, even though blood
poured out of the wounds in her throat. Even in his basest level of
awareness he could sense that she was alive. Her heartbeat was steady
inside her chest and he found his feet moving in rhythm with the sound.


//in a world that is unwhole,
you have got to fight, just to keep your soul//

Buffy wasn't bleeding. She wasn't screaming. She wasn't even humming but
Angel came running full force at her. She held her breath as he charged,
wondering if he was going to knock her flat. Flexing her Slayer mentality,
she fought to remain still, to wait and see what he did next. He didn't
pause as he scooped her up in his arms and continued running.

A low, constant growl could be heard over the pounding of his feet and she
shivered with the tension that was pouring out from his body and into hers.
His eyes were wild and crazed, filled with simultaneous fear and anger. His
growls got longer and louder as he ran and she wondered where he was headed.
Finally, he ducked into a large crypt. She looked around in disbelief as
she recognized it.

It was the same crypt with access to the tunnels below the city. It was
where she first learned his name. Looking at him now, she wasn't sure that
*he* knew his name now.

"Angel," she whispered as he looked over her neck with confusion. He
caressed both sides of her neck finding no blood. No wounds. The only mark
upon her was the one he recognized as his own. Where was the fucking blood?
She was dying god dammit. He had been sure of it and now there was
nothing there.

"Hurt," he managed to growl out while he ran his hands over her body to find
the wound that escaped him.

"No Angel," she said gently, touching the side of his face. He jerked back
when she touched him and grabbed her hand examining it, "I'm not hurt,

"Dying," he growled again after long moments.

"No," she said shaking her head. Buffy had been well aware that her blood
along with the potion that Willow had prepared would put him a little on the
crazy side. Loosening his hold on reality was the only way the other spells
would take effect. But Willow said he would be "a little" crazy. Giles
used the words "out of sorts."

A *little* fucking out of sorts? Angel was certifiable right now.

"Angel," she said, moving to stand, but he covered her hips with his large
hands, holding her down. He looked her in the eyes and shook his head. He
wasn't about to let her move.

"Angel," she repeated and he turned to look at her, eyes narrowed in anger,
as if he didn't believe that she wasn't hurt. She was hiding the wound. He
could smell the blood. It was there, he just had to find it.

"I'm not hurt."

He growled and she watched as his lips curled back over quickly lengthening
fangs. She leaned away from him in fear, but he turned his back on her and
faced the door. Two vampires strolled into the crypt and stopped when their
eyes landed on Angel and The Slayer.

Angel didn't wait for them to jump to any conclusions. He attacked them.
Before Buffy could stand to help, Angel had killed them with his bare hands.
She leaned against the wall in amazement as her ex-demon lover dismembered
the vampires, ripping off various limbs before rending their heads from
their bodies.

"Mine," he growled at their dust before turning back to her.


//heal me, my darling
heal me, my darling//

"Xander," Willow said, looking up from her preparations in Giles' apartment.

"Hey," he said.

"What happened to driving to all 50 states?" Willow asked smiling.

"Yeah, well you should have reminded me about Hawaii," he said, "Shot my
whole plan all to hell, besides, I think I'm needed here for Buff's reunion
with Dead Boy. You know, in case something happens."

"Nice of you to come back," Giles added, feeling genuinely pleased.

"Can I help?" He asked, "I mean I should have a bigger part in this than
blood delivery."

"Stinky herbs?" Willow asked, handing him a group of herbs wrapped in twine.

"Nothing better than this smell," Xander said smiling, "Except that smell my
car made when my engine fell out. And that was literally."

"How did you get home?" Giles asked, looking up from the rewritten Ritual of

"Hitchhiked," he said with a proud smile, "It was either that or work."

"Horrible thought," Giles said with a wry smile, "Having to work for a

"No kiddin'."

"So, since I missed stuff, what's going on? Is Angel here?"

"We believe he has arrived," Giles said, looking slightly concerned.

"That's what we wanted, right?" Xander asked, looking at his two wary

"We think so?" Willow said, her sentence coming out in a question that no
one answered.


//did i hear you say that you believe in angels
i guess i bring the devil out in you
but we can both remove our halos
'cause even an angel needs love too
even angels need love too//

Angel faced his mate, preparing to resume his search of her body for the
escaped wound. Buffy was leaning against the wall in utter shock of the
violence she had just seen him perform. He was still growling, still
wearing game face and she was fairly certain that he didn't realize it. She
looked him over closely and couldn't help but ache for his hands on her body
again, even if they were just searching for imaginary wounds. The bestial
growling caused a tingling to travel through her body.

Crazy or not, she wanted him. He inhaled her arousal and stepped forward to
claim it. He pulled her hips against his, meeting green eyes with golden.

"Mine," he growled again, in case she missed it. He ripped her shirt away
and pulled her tongue his mouth, navigating over his fangs while he cupped
her breasts. She moaned against his mouth and felt the pool of arousal
gathering and growing between her thighs. She pressed against his arousal
causing his growl to shift to a groan.

"Mate," he growled as he torn her linen pants away, along with her panties
and reached between her thighs to touch the heat. He plunged a finger
inside her wet core and she curled against him, gasping for the touch she
had ached to feel for so long.

"Angel," she whimpered, pulling off his jacket and ripping away his shirt.
He slipped a second finger inside her, rubbing his thumb for her clit in
quick, brutal movements as she sucked his nipples into her hot mouth. She
fumbled with his belt, finally managing to unbuckle it with her shaking
hands and tugged at the button, causing it to fly off and land somewhere in
the grave chamber. He pulled his fingers away from her slick heat and she
was still whimpering with the loss when he entered her, pressing her against
the cold wall.

"Buffy," he growled, remembering his lover's name.

"Yessss," she hissed as he claimed her, pulling her legs around his waist
and anchoring her against the stone wall.


Part 4

//you're gonna reap just what you sow//

Giles stood at the door looking out in the darkness that would soon fade to
day. He was concerned and with very good reason. They had undertaken a
dangerous campaign that could have serious consequences that none of them
were prepared to face. Willow, in particular, had invoked dark powers that
he was positive she wasn't ready for. They had manipulated spells and used
them for purposes they were originally intended for. Tonight's expedition
in the anchoring of Angel's soul had proven they weren't nearly ready for
this. The spell flopped, horribly, creating a small fire on Giles' couch
and a much larger concern in his heart.

Angel, who was unaware of his own manipulation, could fare the worst from
all this nonsense. Giles knew Buffy had pondered about it and decided that
for her and Angel's future, she would risk everything. He also knew that
she was concerned about what Angel's response to all this would be when he
finally regained his senses...if he did at all.

Love makes you do the wacky.

Now with the darkness preparing to fade and with Willow and Xander asleep on
the floor behind him, using priceless books for pillows, he willed his
Slayer to come forth with her lover and let him know that everything was
going to be okay.


//well you can need me, well i want you to.
and you can feed me, how i like that too.//

Buffy was not showing her fear, but Angel smelled it all over his mate. Her
naked body was resting against his in the dark crypt and her fears were
bleeding into his crazed mind, making him more confused than before. The
wound he had smelled before was inside her mind and his. He touched her
sweaty blonde head, petting her, wanting to get inside there and root out
the pain.

"Angel," she said, lifting her head from his cold chest, "We need to go
somewhere else. It's almost day."

He looked outside at the darkness, making out rough shapes of trees and
graves. He knew the day was approaching. He could smell it just as easily
as he spelled her fear and pain. He smooth a hand over her bare back,
delighting in the shiver that it caused. He didn't want to find shelter
among people who were not his lover. He didn't want to share her with
anyone. Settling for a distraction plan, he pulled her further up his chest
so he could take advantage of the lips that were asking him to go.

He allowed his hands to move freely over her body as he kissed her,
exploring her mouth with his tongue. He wanted to lick her from head to
toe, to know how she tasted and memorize it. He might not be himself, but
he was aware enough to realize that lying there with her was a gift that he
did not often receive. He felt her begin to protest and kissed her harder
to silence the words, biting at the lips that struggled to move.

"Angel," she whimpered in protest as he reached between her legs to touch
her sex, dipping inside her already wet core. She moved against him,
feeling his arousal grow against her trembling thigh. She smoothed a
shaking hand over his hardening cock and clamped her thighs over his hand as
he growled in stimulation.

Feeling a need to dominate his mate, he rolled them over and entered her,
before she could protest further and felt her argument die to a moan of
pleasure. He nipped at her nipples, biting them hard enough to issue loud
groans that tipped just a little past pain into pleasure and then sucked
them just as hard, changing the classification of feeling.

He moved up to her neck and gliding inside his mate, he found his scar on
her neck and suckled it. He began to move faster inside her as his gentle
sucking became nibbling, which turned to biting. His blunt teeth scraped
the mark roughly.

She panted madly as he took her, "Angel...oh, God...please..."

He looked down at her, showing his ridged face, while not pausing in his
movements. He licked his lips as he stared at her through crazed golden
eyes...wanting, lustful, crazed golden eyes. She knew he was insane. She
was well aware that there was no way of knowing whether or not he had the
cognizance of mind to stop when he needed to, but she well
the intimacy of what she felt the last time he fed off her. The feeling of
knowing her essence was bleeding into him, becoming a part of him, was
amazing. So she nodded at him, issuing her consent and he leaned in without
another second of askance, sank in and drank.

With her vampire moving inside her and breaking open her skin, The Slayer


//i've been up, i've been down
i've been tossed all around
but i always seem to come down on my feet//

Willow had spent so much time thinking about the spell that it started to
fill her dreams whenever she slept, which was not a whole lot lately. So
tonight, in her restless sleep, as she entered the crypt where Buffy and
Angel were making love, she thought she was dreaming about the spell again.
She didn't realize that she was actually there, watching, looking on at the
desperate pairing of the forbidden lovers.

She watched as Angel's face reverted to his demon form and was surprised
that her friend did not shy away from it but embraced it, seemed aroused by
it. She watched Buffy nod her consent and Willow gasped loudly both inside
her dream and out as Angel bit in. The shock of the sight jolted her from
sleep and she sat up with her audible gasp, causing Giles to turn from his
vigil and look at her curiously.

"That's it," she said, standing up and crossing the room for the spell book
she had cast aside in disgust earlier when they had set the couch on fire.

"What is it Willow?" Giles asked, looking on with confusion. Xander,
meanwhile, murmured in his sleep and turned over, staying fast asleep.

"Buffy's blood," she nearly shouted, wide awake.

"We gave it to Angel," Giles said, "but I don't see..."

"We gave it to him with the potion which created the catalyst for the
spell," she started.

"Yes," Giles said, nodding, waiting for the rest.

"The potion for the spell," she said, shaking her head at her own ignorance,
"It didn't work because we didn't add her blood to the mix *this time too*."


//let me know our love is real
cause we're a long way from anywhere
but i can really feel it//

Angel pulled away from her neck and looked at her with wide, pained eyes as
his face turned back to human. His body jerked violently and he pulled
away, stumbling to the corner. He dry heaved and braced himself against the
wall as the pain shot through his body. He opened his mouth to roar in pain
but could not make the sound come.

"Angel?" Buffy asked, standing to her wobbly feet and running across the
room to him.

He jerked away from her touch as his body moved into more violent tremors.
He fell back against the wall and he felt as if his heart were exploding in
his chest. She tried to brace him, to keep him from falling and he finally
reached out, grabbing her shoulders to steady himself, while staring at the
small puncture holes in her neck.

"What's wrong?" She asked, but found no response but the deranged jostling
of his body. The Slayer fell into a whirlwind of panic as she helped him
into his pants. She donned his shirt, since her clothes were ruined and
pulled his arm over her shoulder.

His feet barely moved and Buffy found herself almost dragging her lover
across town to Giles' apartment. The trip took longer than expected and
when they got there, Buffy found her friends gathered in a sacred circle of
candles. The air was filled with an overly thick incense that made her eyes
burn and water. She lowered Angel to the couch, where he continued to jerk
erratically every few seconds.

"What are you doing to him?" she yelled, breaking the silence of the room,
"You're killing him!"

They did not look up from the casting, as the triad of Scoobs - Giles,
Willow & Xander, chanted intermittently, separating passages and languages,
recreating and mixing spells that had them trapped inside the realm of
dimensions. After trying unsuccessfully to break their concentration and
the circle, Buffy crawled up on the couch and held Angel close to her heart,
gripping onto him as if her tight grip would keep him grounded.

The spell was long, winding through vessels of time, breaching dimensional
walls, in search of the lost soul. The air began to crackle as the young
witch intoned, her voice rising to a crescendo, while Giles and Xander's
voices, murmured in the back ground. Buffy clutched Angel tightly as he
shuddered, the shudder rising back to a shake and the shake becoming a
humming vibration that she could actually *hear*.

"Angel," she sobbed, as she held on to him more tightly, digging into his
shoulders to keep him, "I'm so sorry."

She finally realized, just at this moment, that it was too late. She ruined
her chance, destroyed his life and hers in one selfish swoop of misguided
determination. Calling on the forces of darkness to create the life she
yearned for was going to destroy the only thing in this miserable world that
she ever loved. He was dying in her arms and she had no one to blame but

"Buffy," he groaned, finally making a sound, which brought only a sliver of

"I love you," she said, casting love on him, as if it were a spell,

She was almost certain that he heard her before the shivering stopped. The
vibration stopped. The incense put itself out along with the candles and
the room fell dim. The group of Scoobies had all fallen back, breaking the
circle and landing with three distinct thuds against the floor. Angel's
vibrations had stopped. Everything stopped but the panic, which grew inside
Buffy, creating a sucking barrage of desolation.

"Angel!" was the last shout to come from her mouth before she too, fell into
the darkness.


//waiting on an angel.
one to carry me home.//

Willow, Giles & Xander were the first ones to wake. They hadn't seen or
heard the couple come in and so they were surprised to see them on the
couch, both half naked and clutching violently to each other. Giles hurried
across the room, picked up Buffy's wrist, feeling for a pulse and sighed
heavily with relief when he felt one.

"What about Angel?" Willow asked, cocking her head a little as she looked
over the vampire.

"Well," Xander said, cocking his head to the side as well, looking at The
Slayer's peaking cleavage rather than the unconscious vampire, "since he
isn't dust, my guess it that he's still, uh, undead."

"Sound conclusion," Giles said, nodding his head. They continued to stare
at the preternatural beings lying intertwined on the couch, burning stares
into them that willed them to wake up. Finally, Angel began to stir and he
looked over the room, the Slayer he was resting against and the group with

"What's going on?" he asked. He didn't wait for their answer as he looked
over his mate, finding her scar broken open and her body bruised.

"Buffy," he whispered, caressing her shoulder, "Buffy, wake up, love."

//like a handless clock with numbers an infinite of time.
no not the forever found only in the mind.//

Buffy laid motionless against the couch, breathing shallowly through her
mouth. Angel looked over at the group momentarily and shook her lightly,
"Buffy. Come on, baby, wake up."

He glanced up at the group again with eyes narrowed in fear that edged on
dangerous anger, "Why isn't she waking up? What the hell is going on?"

He turned back to Buffy, again, not waiting for their answer, "Buffy, wake
up. Buffy!"

Her hand finally moved up weakly and she batted him away without touching

"No," she murmured, "Angel."

"Buffy," he said, falling into an uneasy state that was somewhere near calm
again, "Wake up, baby."

She opened her eyes and smiled drowsily at him, "Did it work?"

"Did what work?"


//they say if you love somebody than you have got to set them free,
but i would rather be locked to you than live in this pain and misery.//

Angel sat in the mansion, barring himself against the couch as he listened
to Buffy's drawn out explanation of everything that had happened in the past
couple of weeks. He battled between anger and happiness as she spun her
tale, filled with emotion and tears.

It was the tears and the love behind her actions, that forced him away from
the instinctive irritation he felt towards her putting both of them in
serious danger.

"I could have hurt you," he said quietly when she finished, "Anything could
have happened."

"I know," she said, nodding her head, "I...just...I can't live without you
anymore, Angel. I tried. I really did and every day was darkness without
you anyway. How am I supposed to live a normal life in the sun, when I
don't want it if I can't be with you?"

"You made me crazy. You drove me insane for this. People could have been
hurt. I could have killed you! God, Buffy, you let me feed off you when I
wasn't in my right mind!"

She nodded again, feeling as if she had said all she could. He either would
forgive or he wouldn't. At least now he could find some happiness. She
wanted to throw herself at his feet and beg his mercy.

"I'm sorry, Angel," she said, "I wasn't thinking about anything about being
with you. I risked everything because I...what's the point without you?"

She looked at him for several moments more, waiting for the forgiveness and
understanding to melt into him but all she saw was anger. She searched for
the love, it was hidden far below the betrayal he felt.

"I'll go," she said finally, standing and smoothing his shirt against her
body, "You need some time."

She stumbled toward the door, feeling tears erupt as she realized he was
going to let her walk away. He was going to watch her go and brood, while
she tormented herself in his shirt, immersed in his smell and in the memory
of being with him again. As she reached the door, she was spun into his

"I'm furious with you right now," he said, holding her tightly against his

"I'm sorry," she muffled against his still bare chest, dropping tears onto
his skin, which scalded him as they trailed down his muscular stomach.

"I love you," he said, pulling her in even more snuggly.

"I love you," she whispered back.

He pulled away and looked at her tear stained face and into her blood shot
red eyes, "For now on, when you want to torment me and drive me insane, I
wanna know about it first."

"‘Kay," she consented and returned a weak smile. He scooped her into her
arms so suddenly that it forced a squeal from her.

"On with the happiness," he said, carrying her to bed.

The End! Hope you guys enjoyed it!