The Erogenous Zone - The Official Gia Fanlisting

Author: Gia
Email: gia@everysixseconds.com
Notes: There were certain things we didn't want to bother with so we left them out of this fic. 1) There is no Dawn or Connor. 2) Riley did exist and now is gone fighting demons in the jungle or whatever; Borrowing the idea of Angelus talking in thought from Maquis's fabulous stories on http://love-is-immortal.tripod.com.
Oh, and our apologies to Charles Dickens.
<.> will represent the characters thoughts; represents Angelus's thoughts. * will be used to emphasize a word.
Lyrics: Head Over Feet - Alanis Morissette; Various Christmas Carols

When the clock struck three, an ominous presentiment filled the air. Even Doyle, who had been cheerful and joking for much of the night, was now tensely somber. The very air seemed to be filled with dread.

Angel waited patiently, but Doyle neither moved nor spoke for what seemed like an eternity. Finally Angel spoke, breaking the silence. "Let me guess, Christmas Yet to Come?"

His ghostly friend's hesitation gave Angel pause. He suddenly didn't want to follow, he didn't want to know what was going to happen.

Doyle noticed Angel's reluctance and took a deep breath. "I will show you shadows of the things that have not yet come to pass, but will happen some time in the future. Are you ready?"

Angel's trepidation increased at Doyle's obvious reluctance. He steeled himself for what was to come. He had come this far though; he'd see the rest of it through. He knew somehow, the he had more to fear with the future than anything he had seen in the past. He also knew though, that possibilities existed for change.

"Let's go." The tall vampire nodded, wanting to get it over with. They moved quickly and quietly until they were once more back in Sunnydale, winding their way through the dark and empty streets, through the back alleys and side doors until they came to a stop just inside Willie's pub. The air was jovial and filled with laughter.

They stopped by a group of demons crowded around a small table. Angel recognized the D'ebrak demon, but none of the others. They waited, listening to the demon's conversation.

"No," the great fat, yellowish-green demon with the monstrous chin shook his head. "I don't know much about it, either way. I only know she's dead."

"When? What happened? When'd she die?" The snake-like demon hissed, his voice high-pitched with curious excitement.

"What happened?" asked the D'ebrak, slime oozing off him and dripped to the floor. "I thought she'd never die."

"What about Angelus? Any word?" The red-faced crab-like demon joined the conversation, his pendulous excrescence on the end of his nose shaking like the waddle of a rooster.

"Nah." The D'ebrak answered, grinning. "He hasn't been interested in the Slayer for years. Moved on to a new cunt. That's all I know."

The demons around the table laughed heartily, offering speculation as to what the new girl would have that the former Sunnydale Slayer did not.

"I'd love to be at the funeral." The red-faced crab demon changed the topic. "I could spit on the Slayer's grave."

Their conversation then shifted on to other topics as Angel looked to Doyle for an explanation. He knew of course, that this would happen. He wasn't sure why he was meant to hear this particular conversation.

Doyle said nothing, instead moving them along in a glide. Then he pointed to the two girls who were walking quietly along the street.

"I'm okay. I just can't believe it." The red-haired girls' eyes clouded with tears again.

Tara put her arm around Willow, hugging her close. "W-well, she did save the world."

"Again." Willow sighed, wiping at her eyes. "It didn't have to be like this though. The prophecy said that a warrior of shadow and one of light joined together would prevent it."

Tara considered her words. "But Buffy managed to do it on her own. Besides, she said she didn't know any 'warrior of shadow'."

"Yes, she did. She didn't want to ask him for help. Not *now* anyway." Willow's voice was bitter as she choked back the tears again. Her friends' stubborn determination was something that they all loved about Buffy, but it might just have been the thing that had gotten her killed. Not that anyone expected that Angel would have made a difference had Buffy sought him out.

"Oh." Tara had nothing else to say and the girls continued their slow journey along the street.

Angel considered their words with no small amount of guilt, searching for meaning. Was he the 'warrior' that Buffy was supposed to seek out for help? Had things between then grown so distant that she was unwilling or unable to do so? The contempt in Willow's voice was so strong that Angel felt it. That alone disturbed him. Willow, of all of Buffy's friends, had always been the most supportive of him. What *had* changed?

The words echoed through his mind again. He was finally beginning to understand the powerful messages that he had been seeing. Thoughts had been revolving through his mind and he knew that he needed to make some changes in his life. With thought and hope, these new resolutions would correct what had gone wrong before it was too late.

Doyle still stood besides him in the shadows, quiet and dark. When Angel met his eyes, Doyle lifted a brow in question.

They left, gliding into what appeared to be LA. Angel recognized the Hyperion as they approached. As they crossed through his suite of rooms, Angel noted that the surroundings seemed quiet different. Every wall had a bookcase or curio cabinet against it filled with ornaments and knick-knacks. There were dolls of all shapes and sizes, Faberge eggs, beanie-babies (were those even still a fad?) and even, Angel noted with a shiver of distaste, porcelain doll heads. Pink and rose colors dominated the room, along with a massive floral print couch.

<Oh, Christ. What the fucking hell have you done?> The demon, who had been quiet for so long, now stirred.

Angel was still avidly looking around the room, shocked at the changes in his former dark and masculine abode, when the door opened and Fred entered, carrying several heavily laden shopping bags. Just behind her, a woman with short blond hair that resembled Cordelia followed. She too was carrying a multitude of packages. Gunn, also carrying more packages, followed the two women though the door. When they reached the sofa, they women dropped their packages and burst into laughter.

Gunn shook his head and took another deep breath, only one of many that had been required to maintain his patience and sanity on the shopping trip this afternoon. He tolerated it for Fred, knowing how close she had grown to Cordelia, one of her only friends. It was that relationship and his loyalty to Angel that kept him at Angel Investigations, when otherwise he'd have preferred to move on. Keeping the forces of evil in check had become more about money and prestige, and less on fighting the good fight because it was the right thing to do. He'd even considered moving to Sunnydale and joining up with Angel's slayer. Of course, he'd never dared to even mention that to Fred for fear that she'd tell Cordelia and then he'd be subject to the terrible temper tantrums that appeared whenever anything Sunnydale or Slayer was mentioned.

"Did you see the look on that salesman's face when I said I would take them - and in all three colors?" Cordelia squealed, her delight in the purchase of the expensive Manolo Blahnik shoes obvious, regardless of the cost. She knew Angel would be upset when he found out that she had just spent over $1200 on shoes just for her, but she didn't really care. She'd simply hide the bill when it came and then write the check out for "weapons" or "groceries" as she always did. She thought it hysterically funny that he never seemed to question their outrageous expenditures in these two categories.

"I can't believe you actually did it." Fred grinned, her eyes bright from the champagne lunch that Cordelia had insisted on at Chauteau Marmont.

"Hey, I warned him that I was shopping today. Besides, I deserve it." Cordelia ran her hand over her hair, soothing the imaginary out-of-place strand. . "He dripped blood on my last pair of Manolos when he came in with that cut from the demon fight. I couldn't exactly wear them after that." Leaning down, Cordelia drew out an opened box of Godiva chocolates. Opening the box, she greedily selected two of the rich chocolates and stuffed them in her mouth before offering them to Fred and Gunn.

Angel took a closer look. He was shocked. It was, in fact, Cordelia - only, much, much, larger and with a body that was rapidly turning to fat. He wouldn't have recognized her.

The svelte seer he remembered had disappeared completely, buried beneath the corpulent mounds of flesh that stretched her white leggings to near-transparent thinness across her heavy thighs and behind, and her breasts - the lush breasts he had suckled upon only hours ago - were swollen to the size of two basketballs, both threatening to topple out of her obscenely tight red top. The seems of her clothes bulged threateningly, but the stretchy fabrics valiantly held up beneath her expanding flesh.

"Where is Mr. Broody anyway?" Cordelia picked another chocolate out of the box after the other two declined. "And don't forget, not a word about the death of slay gal, Buffy. I don't want to ruin Christmas"

Her eyes darted to Fred and Gunn as if they might question how she had known about the death of the slayer. She'd mentioned it to them casually this morning after calling friends in Sunnydale to confirm her vision, the vision that she had chosen not to share with anyone, particularly Angel.

"And Fred - remember! You were going to tell him about that emerald and diamond necklace at Winstons. I sooo want that for Christmas."

"Cordy, you checked the price tag on that. It's over 10g's." Gunn shook his head as he headed out the door, his job as package delivery carrier done for the day. "Since when are we pulling in that kind of cash?"

"So, he picks up a few more clients. No big." Cordelia sniffed, watching as Gunn closed the door behind him.

"Now let's see…" Cordelia rifled through her bags, pulling out her new M.A.C. lipsticks. She couldn't decide on which color she liked best so she bought all 5. "Now, I have to hide my purchases and wrap these gifts before the large, dark and solemn one gets wind of what I spent. God forbid I have to give him another blowjob as a distraction."

"Well, last time he wanted to talk about the bills, I just changed the subject to, uh, that." Cordelia wrinkled her nose in distaste. "He's just so cold to touch at times. It's a little ew. I don't mind if he wants to give me a little oral gratification… but I so do not like to return the favor."

"Well, I do kinda. I mean, that belly is no real turn on. Who knew blood would be so fattening?" Cordelia snorted, ignoring the fact that her own waistline had increased drastically in the last few years. Her once svelte size 4 figure was now easily a size 14. She thought of it as pleasingly plump, but still cut the tags out of her clothing. "And that ass! Have you seen him from behind? Honestly, Fred, we may have to start buying loveseats for all our chairs!" They erupted in a peal of laughter. "You think there's such a think as lean pig's blood? Or maybe there's a zone diet plan for vampires?" Cordelia laughed loudly again, amused at her own wit.

Angel listened to their dialogue with something akin to revulsion. As they sat amidst the largess from their shopping spree, he viewed Cordelia with new eyes.

Just then he saw the shadow of his future self enter the room and he recoiled in terror. It was all true. Did he- was that- did he really almost have double chins? Angel stared at his future self wondering what happened. Not only was he - well, to be perfectly blunt - fat - but he seemed so worn down, tired and defeated.

<Holy fuck! You simpering, lazy, mindless idiot!!> This time the demon's roar was so loud, so angry that Angel almost suspected that Doyle could hear his thoughts.

Amazingly enough, he had returned to the leather pants he had favored as his demonic counterpart, but where could he possibly have found a size to encompass his own large ass. His once muscled chest had given way to indolent flab and he - Angel flinched and even the demon within bellowed in outrage and disgust - he had man breasts; certainly they were not of a size to rival Cordelia's large double Ds but…he had man breasts!

He had always been aware of the fact that he was an attractive man; females over the centuries had willingly thrown themselves to the non-tender mercies of both the man and the beast, but he had always believed that as a vampire, he had been suspended forever at the height of his masculine prime. He had always believed that other than muscle mass, he would be unchanged and untouched by the ravages that time and modern living could wage: he had been wrong.

Now he understood why Buffy hadn't called on him in her time of need. He doubted that his future self would have been able to serve as a capable partner at her side, let alone survive a life or death battle. He was no longer the Warrior that he had been. Now it appeared that he fought for the money to keep Cordelia supplied with her extravagant purchases, not because he was needed nor to make amends. He sighed with disgust.

<Capable partner? Hell, I'd be surprised if this fat ass could run half a block much less handle any sort of weapon.>

Angel glanced towards Doyle, uneasy. Doyle returned Angel's look. He too was disturbed by the image of his once beautiful Cordelia's true character. Had he been so blinded by her beauty that he hadn't seen the woman inside?

"Hi Honey. How was the demon business today?" Cordelia didn't move, waving absently in Angel's direction. Her voice was flat and artificially caring.

"Good." Angel kissed Cordelia's cheek, aiming for her lips but she anticipated and turned her head just in time. When he looked away she absently wiped at her cheek.

"You're not dripping any demon slime or blood on my new carpets are you?" Not that she minded redecorating, but she had just put this particular shade of rose in last month and thought it perfectly complimentary to her skin tone. She didn't want to bother changing it for at least another couple of months.

His own voice was so sufficiently reticent that Angel thought he imagined it. When had he begun to be cowed by Cordelia?

Angel said nothing, only went about his business in putting away his weapons. Even his future self regarded the case of doll-heads with suspicion and avoided it.

"Well, I hope you paid my cell phone bill. I need it. Where's the mail? Did my issue of W come? Oh, and did you pick up my dry cleaning while you were out?"

"No!? I asked you for a simple favor and you can't even do that? And I did all the Christmas shopping for us - again - by myself - again - and you can't even do a simple favor for me and pick up the dry cleaning. Angelllll." Cordelia's voice increased to a nagging whine. "It's just three blocks away. You could even walk there. Tell me, just how on earth could you possibly forget it? Please, assure me that you are not that stupid. Or that inconsiderate of me."

"There's always a demon. Or vampire. Or some other excuse. I *needed * that dress to wear tomorrow on Christmas day to church. You know,*church*? And don't give me that excuse about the crosses and holy water again. We've been over this before and you know how important it is to me to have a little spirituality in life at least once a year. I'll bet you deliberately didn't pick up my dress so you wouldn't have to go. It would be just like you to do that to me. Now what am I going to do, huh? What am I going to wear? What about me?" Her voice had risen to near high-pitched squeal.

Angel put his hand to his eyes, squeezing the bridge of his nose to shut out the sounds of her voice. When had she gotten so selfish? Or had she always been that way and he hadn't seen it?

<Always been there, moron. You missed signals the size of your future fat ass.>

"Tell me something, Doyle, are these things that *will* be or are they things that *might* be?" Angel felt a pounding in his head as Cordelia's voice droned on and on and yet, his future self stood there and listened to her with that lifeless look in his eyes.

Angel turned away from Doyle then, considering his words. Finally he turned back. "Is it past hope, then? Why show me this if there is no way to change it?"

"The Powers that Be are giving you three days back. Three days in which you must decide what you are going to do. Remember, Angel my friend, there is no amount of regret that can make amends for lost opportunities."

In the next instant Doyle was gone and Angel was back in his room, on his bed just as it had been when he had gone to sleep.

She knew where they were; they were inside Spike's crypt. She glanced around the stone chamber; if possible, it was even more decrepit than before. And Spike…

Buffy couldn't remember ever seeing the bleach-haired vampire looking anything but sexy. He had had the whole leather-clad bad boy look that had drawn women to him like bees to honey for over a century. Not anymore.

He still wore his trademark black jeans and tight red t-shirt. There was just one problem though: the jeans wouldn't fasten over his expanding gut and the t-shirt had gone beyond tight to too small, and couldn't cover the milky pale roundness of his beer belly. His once carefully tended hair looked as if it hadn't been dyed in months and it may well have been that long since it had been touched by either scissors or comb.

Spike stood in front of the refrigerator he pushed past the protein shakes and bottled water to pull out a beer. He slammed the fridge shut, popped the top and guzzled the 40 ounce beverage in nearly one swallow.

Releasing a loud belch of satisfaction, he walked toward his recliner, pausing only to scratch the blubbery roundness of his ass and then his crotch, as an after-thought.

Buffy could feel the apathy radiating from the once proud and vibrant predator. He had given up on his life - or rather his unlife. His once sleek and muscular body was nothing more than fat and sagging skin. His pale blue eyes had lost their luster and were now dull. And worst of all, the cocky and confident swagger had disappeared from his step and was now a slow wobble.

He was a broken demon, not even a shadow of his former self. He had long since stopped caring, even about the things that all demons cared about: torture, pain, lust, passion; the hunt, the kill. Nothing moved him anymore.

She watched as Spike plopped his overweight self down into his tattered recliner and then searched avidly for the remote for the TV, spotting it out of reach.

Buffy glanced at her ghostly guide quizzically, wondering who he was calling to; Kendra jerked her chin toward the sleek, muscled blond woman that entered from the other room.

The blond Slayer blinked in disbelief and stared at her future self in bemused shock.

All the softness in her, in body and in emotion was gone. Her future self was a warrior, a stone-cold killer who did what had to be done without hesitation and without regret. Her eyes were flat and cold, as expressionless as a shark's…and about as merciful.

The soft curves of her breasts and hips had been swallowed into sleek sinew, hardened planes and defined musculature. Clad in black leather pants and a black tank top, the fabrics clung to her lean body, showing off the long hard muscles of her thighs, and revealing the taut lines of her shoulders, biceps and triceps. Even her once generous bust line had given way to the hardened splendor of her amazon's body.

She was old. Oh her skin was still clear, healthy and unlined, but it lacked softness. Her hair - the last feminine trait left to her - was still gold and untouched by grey, but the eyes, the windows to the soul, the those beautiful hazel green eyes that use to be lit with brilliance and fire were now cold, old and tired.

"What do you want Spike?" she asked indifferently, binding the length of her blond ponytail into an unfussy leather thong.

The warrior released a sigh of exasperation. "You called me in here to get you a remote that is less than three feet from you, so you can watch that dumb soap opera?"

It's not a dumb soap opera," Spike whined in defense of his choice of tv programming.

"You know it's melodramatic crap. No self-respecting creature of the night would be caught dead watching that. But then again, you're not a self-respecting vampire anymore, are you?" she commented pityingly. "Look at yourself. The chip made you an object of pity to the demon community, but you made yourself into a laughingstock. I'd say it was unhealthy, but you're already dead. Just because you don't have a reflection doesn't mean you can't see how overweight you are. Your ass is the same size as your imitation E.T. potbelly. You even have the beginnings of man-breasts. Spike, don't you even care about yourself anymore?"

He flinched, stung by her words. "Well at least I have an ass and some breasts. You're nothing but hard angles and harder muscles. Nothing a man would want to snuggle up to in the night. All the soft curves I loved before, are gone, Slayer. And so is the fire that made you special. You're nothing but a frigid machine. When we're making love, I'm more tempted to feel myself than you!"

"I wish you would," she growled in annoyance. "It's no picnic having your blubbery belly rubbing against me as you strain to get off - and that's when you work up enough energy to do anything other than watch the damn TV."

He struggled out of the chair and advanced on her angrily. "My blubbery belly!" he roared in outrage. "You liked it well enough when you found out your precious Angel was sportin' the same girth!"

The fire that had begun to burn in her eyes went cold at the mention of his name. "Maybe because on him it's still appealing to me." She eyed him in disgust, "You're an empty shell, Spike."

"I'm an empty shell? That's a laugh. I ain't the one who's turned into a bleedin' machine. And tell me why I should care about anything. For the last few years the only thing you've given a damn about was training. And," he added, "why should I want to fuck a woman who continues to call out the name of a demon she only fucked once. A demon who found you so lacking he dumped you, moved to another city and took up with another woman. And you still carry a torch for him." He laughed contemptuously. "And you call me pitiful," he sneered. "It's been years Slayer, let it go. He doesn't want you. And truthfully, neither do I."

The pain flared as it always did at the mention of him. The pain and the sense of betrayal. She forced herself to remain cold. "I would've thought after Drusilla panting after him for a hundred years you would've been used to being second choice. I don't need you, Spike. I never have. You were a way to hurt him back, but it was never you I wanted. Only him. You were a substitute - and a poor one at that. Did you know? Of course you did," she taunted ruthlessly. "I kept calling his name. Do you know why I chose you, Spike? He hates you, your skin is cool and you're of his bloodline. Those were the only reasons I was with you. You didn't think it was for love, did you?"

The cold taunt hit it's mark. "Get the Hell out Slayer and never come back." He turned and stalked contemptuously away from her.

She smiled mirthlessly. "That was the plan for the night anyways, Spike. Never coming back." Her hand flashed in a quick movement.

Spike staggered and turned around, clutching his chest in shocked bewilderment. "Buffy?" he whispered and collapsed in a rain of ash.

"I didn't want to fight before I ended it, Spike," she commented to the pile of ash. "But loose ends are loose ends. I don't want to leave any behind for the next girl. And I'll be more than glad to leave this moldy crypt behind."

Buffy watched her future self walk uncaringly through her lover's ashes and turned to Kendra, sickened by the scene she'd just witnessed. "Please don't let this be my life," she whispered.

The mist began to swirl around them. Buffy let out a sigh of resignation. "Oh Goody," she mumbled sarcastically.

When the mist cleared she was standing in the lobby of a Hotel. She vaguely remembered Giles informing her that Angel's apartment blew up and he'd bought a hotel.

She looked around at the occupants of the lobby. Wesley and a large woman were sitting on a round sofa. There was something vaguely familiar about the woman. As Buffy continued to stare she recognized the woman. It was Cordelia. She let out an unladylike whoop. Cordelia was the svelte beauty queen any more. She'd gained a lot of weight. And those breast even accounting for the weight gain were enormous. She had to have gotten implants. Of course her taste in clothes was still impeccable even if she was stretching the fabric to its limits.

A skinny brunette and a handsome tall black man were standing near by. The mood seemed to be very somber. She looked closely at Cordelia and her mascara and eyeliner seemed to be smeared. She had been crying real tears. Buffy walked closer to the group Kendra on her heels.

"Gunn where did you find these?" Cordelia addressed the Black man. Buffy leaned in to see what Cordelia had in her hands. She was holding Angel's Claddagh ring and a in a velvet box was another smaller Claddagh ring.

"They were just sitting there in the court yard on bench surrounded by dust. I gathered up all the dust and placed it in the small vase over there," he motioned his head towards a hand pained vase sitting on the counter.

"What I want to know is who in the hell told him about Buffy had died," Cordelia snapped.

Buffy gasped she'd died. She looked at Kendra. Kendra nodded *yes*. Dead for some reason after seeing her Christmas present and future the thought of death didn't bother her Angel's death on the other hand was causing her chest to tightened. She felt like someone had wrapped a fist around her heart and was squeezing.

"N-No. I-I promised you wouldn't tell him and I didn't." The skinny brunette defended herself against Cordelia's attack.

Wesley answered, "Cordelia it doesn't matter how he learned. He learned," Wesley paused, "He was a little quite after he came back from picking up your dry cleaning. Someone may have told him. There are any number of demons who could have told him."

"Well it doesn't matter now," Cordelia screeched. "Without him we are going to have to work twice as hard to turn the profit that we now make. I can't believe this. Just when I thought my future was set Angel pulls a stunt like this. Hell he hasn't seen her in years and he commits suicide just because the little bitch dies."

Buffy didn't know she was crying. The tears were falling rapidly. Her hand was over her heart and the other over her mouth. Her beautiful Angel was dead. She couldn't believe it. Dead. She never thought it would happen. She always thought that he'd out live her. She hadn't seen him in years but his death cut through her.

"Kendra there has to be a way to change this. A way to unmuck the mess Angel and I have made out of our lives." She beseeched desperately squeezing Angel's hand.

"Life is a series of paths. You have the power to change your path." Kendra decided it was now time to tell Buffy why she had come. She turned to Buffy and chose her words carefully as Cordelia bemoaned her fate in the background.

"Because you have shown yourself as superior warrior the Powers That Be are giving you a change to your path. To reclaim the life you should have. The life you should lead. You will go to sleep and when you awake it will be December 22. Three days before Christmas. Three days to change your path, your life."

The mist began to swirl. Buffy held Kendra's words close to her. Three days to change her path. Change her life.

"You are welcome Sister Slayer," Kendra said her voice drifting through the mist.

In the next instant Kendra was gone and Buffy was back in her room Mr. Gordo sleeping peacefully.

<Wake up. Wake up lard ass. Get up. Get the fuck out of bed and change our future. NOW!>

Angel blinked. He was in his own bed, in his own room at the Hyperion. He took a quick look around the room again, as if needing to confirm his surroundings. Glancing at the window he made sure that it was dusk, safe for him to venture out. He had a lot to do in a short amount of time if he truly wished to make amends, to change the future yet to come.

Showering quickly, Angel dressed in his usual attire. Black slacks, charcoal sweater. He ran his hands quickly through his hair, attempting to force the unruly locks into some sort of order with a dab of hair gel. He was anxious and more than a little nervous, yet he felt a strange sense of calm and bubbling happiness. It was as if a weight had been lifted.

Quickly he packed a bag, shoving in clothes and other necessities for several days.

Opening the bottom drawer of the chest in his room, Angel extracted the small jewel box that had been carefully tucked away in the back corner all these years. He'd found the ring on the floor in the mansion not long after he returned from hell, near to where the ash from his body had marked the floor. He'd known it had been Buffy's the minute he had held it in his hand. Tucking it carefully in his pocket, he grabbed his coat. It was time to reclaim what he had lost.

He took the stairs two at a time, rapidly making his way toward the door as he shrugged into his coat. At the bottom of the stairs he gave in to the urge, and he laughed. The sound drew Cordelia and Fred out of the nearby room to stare at him curiously.

"Angel?" Cordelia frowned, wondering what had happened to the vampire while he slept. He was behaving strangely this evening.

"Christmas Carols. Do you hear them?" Angel cocked his head, his preternatural hearing picking up the sounds of 'Silver Bells' playing in a car passing on the street. "What's today?"

Cordelia looked at Fred, still frowning, then turned her attention back to Angel. "December 22. Same day as when you went upstairs earlier. Are you okay? Because you're acting awfully strange. Did you fall and bump your head or something?"

"No. And I haven't missed Christmas! The Powers… they really did set things back a few days." The last words, Angel muttered to himself. He looked then at Cordelia, really looked at her. Her brown eyes lacked warmth; her smile was beautiful yet touched with insincerity and avarice. How could he have missed it before? The superficiality was easily detectable, especially for someone with as much experience observing and scrutinizing people as he had.

<If her cunt was as cold as her heart, even a vampire would get frostbite. Stop fucking around and get going.>

"I need the number for that cleaning crew that we did that demon removal for. The one that said they owed us a favor." Angel searched his pockets, checking for his keys. "I'm sorry, but I won't be here for Christmas. I'm leaving for Sunnydale after I make a stop."

Cordelia gave Fred another worried look then came around the desk. She touched Angel on the arm catching him before he reached the door.

"You. Are. Not. Okay." Her frown had deepened to a scowl at the mention of Sunnydale; her cropped dyed blond head shaking slowly back and forth as if to reinforce her words. "What happened?"

"No, I'm not okay. I'm better than okay, actually." Angel smiled then, an honest to goodness real smile. Which made Cordelia even more nervous.

"Wes! Gunn! Can you come here please?" She kept her hand on his arm as if to restrain him.

Angel waited patiently, his expression, well, it could only be described as angelic. He'd soothe their worries and fears - at least, what little he could soothe in oh, say 10 minutes, then he was out the door. He didn't have time to placate them beyond that.

"Yes?" Wesley appeared, but Gunn was nowhere to be found. Fred volunteered to look for him and in the next second she nervously raced off.

"Angel says he's going to Sunnydale." Cordelia kept her eyes on Angel, but talked to Wesley like she was talking to a small child. She still gripped the vampire's arm tightly, as if she could keep him there with that simple touch.

"Really?" Wes looked from Cordelia to Angel then back again. "And why is that? Is there trouble there? Perhaps we should all-"

"No." Angel interrupted, stopping Wesley before the rest of the words could be spoken. "No trouble. I'm going alone. I need to see if I can't correct some mistakes that I made." He met each of their eyes, his own telling them that he did not wish any company.

"And then? Well, if I'm really lucky and things work out as I hope, then I'm going to get laid and I'm going to get married. Maybe not in that order." Angel grinned, turning back toward the door. He was anxious to be on his way.

Fred and Gunn looked from Cordelia to Angel curiously, having entered in time to hear the last bit of the conversation.

"Yes." Without turning Angel waved and disappeared through the door, whistling once again.

"Buffy." Cordelia forced herself to spit out the slayer's - and her rival's - name.

"Whoa! Back up a minute. I didn't think Angel could- you know, with his ex?" Gunn had heard the stories.

Wes smiled, despite the tension radiating from Cordelia. He'd known since that very day when Angel's life had been threatened by Faith's poison arrow just how much the young slayer loved him. Personally he thought them well suited. Buffy was Angel's light, and he was her shadow. "Well, apparently he can now, or perhaps he just doesn't care. My money is on the former. Now then, Fred, perhaps you can help me, I was just researching this T'lara dimension…"

Cordelia seethed in the lobby, angry that she had apparently lost Angel to Buffy again. As if she had ever had him…

Buffy felt an alien coolness encircling her trim hips and lifted up her tank top to see the silver waist chain her sister in spirit had bequeathed her.

A slow smile stretched across her face; it hadn't been a dream. It was real. It was all real. She looked at the clock radio on her dresser: the LCD reading was December 22. The Powers had kept their promise and had given her three days. Three days to un-muck her life. Three days to make a reality out of that scene in the mansion that Kendra had shown her only a glimpse of.

Buffy ran to her closet and started pulling out clothes. She had so many things she needed to do. But the first thing was to make a trip to LA and get her man.

The post office was bustling when Angel stopped the car just outside. That made sense of course, all the last minute shoppers now shipping their gifts in hopes that the would arrive in time for Christmas. Angel checked his pockets again. In one pocket he had Buffy's claddagh ring, in the other, the ring he had purchased for Cordelia. He hoped that the Oracles would accept Cordelia's ring in payment for what he had to ask.

He made his way to the portal and waited. After a few minutes, he was granted entry.

"Warrior. Why are you here?" The female Oracle stepped forward. They had known of course that he would be coming.

"What have you brought?" The male Oracle joined them, his gaze unwavering as he looked at Angel.

"I have this." Angel held out his hand with the diamond ring. The female Oracle suppressed her excitement as she held out her hand. The ring drifted to her through the air. She put it on as her brother soothsayer watched.

"When?" Angel felt the unwinding of the coiled tension in his body, even as his feelings of nervousness and excitement increased.

"The Romany curse was broken once you understood the key. When your soul was returned to you, it was bound."

"But, but…" The tall vampire stammered. How could this be? How could he have not known?

"Make no mistake. Your demon still exists, it is still part of you." The male Oracle warned.

"And it can escape with magic or supernatural influence. You must not be complacent." The female mystic, more empathetic to their warrior of shadow, added.

<Yeah. Go home to the wife. Fuck like minks. Beat the living shit out of the boy. Kill stuff together - relax soul boy, I meant killing other nasty demons. Things being what they are - and what they could be, I'll take what I can get.>

And with the Oracles last words, Angel went sailing back through the portal through which he had entered. As he dusted off his clothing from the tumble to the floor, Angel smiled. And once more checked his pocket to make sure that he hadn't lost Buffy's ring during the fall. It was still there. As long as he held it, he felt he had hope.

The drive to Sunnydale, despite the short distance, seemed longer than ever. Angel checked his watch several times and toyed with his cell phone every few miles, debating his next steps. Should he call her and let her know he was coming and wanted to see her? Should he wait until he had things in order - the way he wanted them?

Finally the indecision gave way to eagerness and Angel dialed Buffy's number just a few miles outside of town.

When she answered on the third ring it caught Angel by surprise. Since she usually was out patrolling by this time of night, he had been expecting the machine and had been mentally preparing a message. Now he wasn't sure what to say.

"Hello?" Buffy queried again as she felt a curious sensation streak through her, a familiar pang.

"Angel?" The surprise in her voice was obvious. She'd just been packing to go to LA to see him, her visions, complementary of Kendra, filling her with a determined purpose to make things right with her vampire ex. Of course, if things went as planned, he would be an ex no longer.

He savored her voice, the sound of his name on her lips. It had been too long since he'd heard her say it in that breathy little way that she had. "How are you?"

"I'm good. You?" Buffy felt a shiver of excitement mixed with surprise. Was it purely coincidence that he was calling just as she was packing to go see him? Or was this fate?

"Good." Angel stopped the car outside her house on Revello drive. He looked at her window, the light was on. He thought he could see her shadow as she moved around the room. He cut the ignition.

They both spoke at once, both trying to come to grips with recently renewed hope, scarcely daring to believe that they were allowed, no - more than allowed, that they were destined to be together. Finally. After all this time. Visions of Christmases past, present and yet to come danced through both of their minds building this hope that love still existed between them.

"You first." Buffy relented. She felt a return of her earlier tingling sensation, her Angel sense, only it stronger now.

"No, you." The cleaning crew should have the mansion cleaned by noon tomorrow and decorated to his specifications. At the price he had agreed to pay them, they promised both speed and perfection.

Now that she could tell him all the things she wanted, Buffy felt a touch of fear. What if he rejected her? What if he no longer felt the same way about her? Could she stand it?

"Angel, where are you?" The question was a delaying tactic. She searched her mind for how to begin; his call had caught her off guard. She walked to the window and glanced outside, looking up and down the street.

He could see her now, looking out. Angel opened the car door and stepped out almost cautiously. What if he couldn't convince her now that he loved her? What if he couldn't convince her to trust him?

Buffy nearly gasped in surprise when she spotted him, now standing across the street in front of her house; he was a dark figure in the dim glow of the streetlights, yet she would have recognized him anywhere.

Without a word, she hung up the phone and made her way down the stairs and out into the street. When she reached him, she stopped. They stared at each other in silence, both uncertain about what to say.

"I missed you." Finally, Angel spoke, his deep voice breaking the quiet of the evening.

His words took her by surprise. Her heart lurched in her chest and Buffy felt a tremor of excitement, a beat of anticipation. Why was he here? She needed to know.

She cleared her throat. "What are you doing here?" She winced; that hadn't come out as she had planned. "Oh, I mean- it's uh, good to see you."

Angel smiled slightly, understanding her uncertainty. He felt it himself. They had hesitated for so long…"An old friend told me something last night. Something I should have realized"

"An… old friend?" Buffy felt a shiver at the strange coincidence. Had Kendra been to see Angel too?

"I've made some mistakes Buffy, a lot of mistakes. But I want to try to fix those."

Buffy pulse rate increased, beating a wild tattoo. "What mistakes?" Were they for once in accord?

"Yes, mistakes. Leaving you for one." Angel shifted slightly, moving closer to her. "I've really missed you." He brushed a stray hair back from her face as he restrained himself from gathering her in his arms.

"Me too. Missed you that is. A lot." Buffy looked at her feet, then returned her eyes to his face. "And I had a visit from a friend as well. Last night." Frowning, she reconsidered her words. "I mean three days from now. If that makes any sense."

Angel studied Buffy's small face in the moonlight, his preternatural eyesight making it easy to see her clearly. She was so beautiful, more so than he remembered if that was possible. But it wasn't her just physical beauty that moved him. It was everything about her, her humor, her confidence, her strength, her vulnerability despite all of it and most especially her heart.

<Yeah, right.> The demon snorted, stirring. <Tell yourself it's her *heart* when you're running your hands over that ripe flesh just above it. What are you waiting for anyway? Shouldn't you be between her thighs by now, soul boy?>

With a wry smile Angel continued speaking, "I've been making decisions with my head that I should have made with my heart."

The words triggered something in Buffy's memory; that day so long along with Angel had broken up with her before the prom. How he had said then that he had been trying to think with his head instead of his heart… Her eyes shot up to his face. "Really? How long have you been doing that?"

Angel lifted his hand, wanting to touch her but hesitated. The last time they really and honestly spoke to each other had been in the sewer - and in the day that wasn't. After their breakup, she had closed him out of her heart and mind, no longer sharing her thoughts with him; she had been afraid of what other pain he might cause her. What if she would not let him return from his self imposed exile?

After a moment, he finally answered her throwing all reservations aside. "Since the moment I told you I didn't want your life to be with me. I lied. I want to be with you so badly I ache with it. I want every moment of your life to be with me. I want every moment of my life to be with you. I want to be with you. I want you."

Buffy closed her eyes, savoring the moment. The words she had wanted to hear from him for so long. Small fat tears trickled from her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she smiled a tremulous smile. "Can I have a drawer?"

Angel smiled, remembering her request two years ago, shortly before they had broken up. "You can have anything you want."

Brushing away the tears from her cheeks, he stepped closer. Some magical force had brought them back together, and surrounded them even now. Their eyes locked, hazel drowning in rich chocolate brown as they searched each other's soul for a sign that this was what they both wanted, that their hopes were not in vain. Buffy swayed toward him slightly as he leaned down, his hand cupping her face as she tilted her head back. Their lips met in a soft and tender kiss. It was a promise from her to him and from him to her…

When their kiss finally ended Buffy opened her eyes to look at him. Her hand was resting on his wrist while his hands still cradled her face. When she spoke, her words sounded like a soft sigh, "So where do we go from here?"

"I hear that this place - the Bronze - serves coffee. I thought maybe you and I could get some. Sometime. If you want." Angel smiled as he recalled the words that he had said to her all those years ago. Those words had led to their first 'official' date. It was a way to begin again.

Buffy smiled, her eyes sparkling brightly in the moonlight. "How's tonight? Does tonight work for you?"

"Tonight's perfect. I'll pick you up in an hour or so?" Angel worked to control his enthusiasm. He wanted to be careful and not screw this up. "I just got back into town and I've got a couple of things to take care. Won't take long."

"An hour then." Buffy tried hard to keep from grinning. This was exactly what she had wanted. There was so much she wanted to say to him, so much she wanted to know. Determined to keep him this time, the blonde slayer was not above using her physical attributes to her advantage. Her mind was fast sorting through her clothing for the perfect outfit to knock one tall, dark and gorgeous vampire off his feet.

Angel nodded in response. Bending slightly, he kissed Buffy lightly on the lips once more before he turned and got into his car.

"Oh boy." Buffy let out a breathy little sigh as he drove away. In the next minute she was bolting up the stairs to get ready.

<So that was romance? It wasn't bad…Are we getting laid tonight?> Quiet for so long, the demon stirred again. And as usual, Angel ignored him.

When he left Buffy's house, Angel sped through town, his first stop the mansion on Crawford Street. Even now, despite the relatively late hour, the place was bustling with workers. Several of them were slightly unusual, being that they were demons, but the work was of top quality.

Angel inspected their progress and then spoke with the man in charge, taking the time to give specific orders for food and personal supplies Buffy would need. He made a shopping list that included her vanilla shampoo, soap, bubble bath and perfume and then added silk sheets, comforters, towels and bath accessories.

The two men agreed on the items remaining, then Angel paid for the completed work. Afterwards, he grabbed his bag from the trunk of the car and made his way through the workers to his old bedroom.

Angel carried his bags in his room then he unpacked, showered and changed. Grabbing his duster as he walked out the Mansion, he stopped only briefly to survey their progress. He told the demons he wanted this place clean and everyone gone by the time he got back; they nodded their understanding.

<Now. If you can refrain from saying anything stupidly noble - or just plain stupid, like we don't deserve her, maybe we can score tonight. Of course, you do remember who's waiting in LA if you fuck this up... Dyed blonde? Big tits? And coffee? Why are we wasting time on coffee? Can't we just have the coffee in bed? We don't want to have coffee, it makes us jittery, remember? We just want her. She wants us. We want her...Can't believe you walked away…idiot.>

As usual, Angel tried to ignore the demon as he drove towards Buffy's house. No matter how right the demon was.

Buffy stood in her lace bra and thong and studied everything in her closet. Her underwear was the only thing she could decide on after her shower. She really wasn't sure what the proper attire was to seduce an ex. Plus she didn't really know what he wanted. They hadn't done a lot of talking. At any rate she had to find something to wear. She wanted to be alluring…and she wanted to turn Angel into a gibbering fool the instant he saw her.

She looked over everything in her closet, finally deciding on a two-piece peach colored jersey knit set; the long sleeve boat neck top barely reached the waistband of the fitted skirt that fell to her ankles. The set showed off a generous expanse of midriff while Kendra's gift played peek-a-boo between the top and the waistband of the skirt. She stepped into a pair of ridiculously high 3 1/2 inch heels and posed in the full-length mirror.

Buffy loved the outfit because it was both demure and provocative: the top emphasized her slim neck, full rounded breasts and narrow waistline. The fitted skirt skimmed her hips and caressed the curves of her hips and behind.

Xander had once told her she could stop traffic in this outfit; well she wasn't interested in stopping traffic, she was only interested in setting a cold vampire, her cold vampire, on fire.

She wondered briefly how she compared to Cordelia and then dismissed the thought; Angel was here to be with her. She wasn't sure what he wanted, but she did know if he wanted to be with Cordelia he'd still be in LA, not here in Sunnydale taking her out for coffee. Buffy refused to let Cordelia ruin her night.

Buffy let her long hair hang loose around her shoulders and fussed nervously with her makeup. She emphasized her eyes with liner and added some peach lip-gloss to her lips. She needed no blusher as Angel's presence in her life had brought back plenty of color to her cheeks.

The doorbell rung just as she was fluffing her hair for what she certain was the hundredth time. She checked her reflection in the mirror, took a deep breath and went to answer the door.

Buffy opened the door and they stared at each other, shocked momentarily speechless by simultaneous surges of hunger.

Angel was dressed in a black, cashmere pullover and a pair of faded denims, looking more casual than Buffy ever remembered seeing him. Her gaze flicked over him appreciatively, taking in his lean physique; he'd put on more muscle since leaving Sunnydale and it showed - especially in the depth of his chest and shoulders.

For a brief moment, she grappled with the nearly overwhelming urge to pounce on him. She was the Slayer; she had little doubt that she could take him to the floor without a problem. And once on the floor, she could rip his shirt off and explore his every muscle with her lips. No, she told herself firmly. Talking. Getting to know each other again. She was no longer a hormonally driven teenager who couldn't control herself around her gorgeous boyfriend.

<Umm, yeah. I don't see any panty lines. Do you see any panty lines? I don't see any panty lines. Ohhh…she smells good. Forget the coffee. Grab her. Grab her! Floor. Couch. Errgh… Don't make me wait any longer…>

Angel resolutely ignored his demon's continued clamors for immediate physical gratification. He licked his lips and belatedly realized that Buffy was staring at them. He cursed himself and his lust crazed demon silently. He was the oldest here. The more experienced. He needed to get himself under control and act like it.

"These are for you," he said handing Buffy an exquisitely cut crystal vase filled with twelve roses and baby's breath.

Buffy took the vase and stuck her nose in the roses inhaling their delicate fragrance. "They're beautiful, Angel. Thank You."

She stood up on her toes and kissed him on his lips: a soft, chaste kiss. He decided to let it stand for now.

<Just a little…a feel… grab her! She wants to be touched. Now. What are you waiting for?!> The demon raged, frustrated at Angel's continual ignoring of him.

"Flattery will get you admitted," she teased. She stepped back to let him in and he walked through the door, his invitation still intact.

Buffy blushed but accepted the compliment. "Thank you. Let me put these down and we can go."

She placed them on the living room table, knowing that she'd take them to horde in her room when she got back home.

"Where's your Mother?" Angel asked, noticing the lack of a Christmas tree and lights.

Buffy picked up her purse off the sofa. "She's spending Christmas with Gram and Aunt Darlene. I wasn't in much of a festive mood and decided to stay home."

She stared at him for several seconds before replying, her eyes searching for something; he hoped she found it.

It was enough for now. They headed out the door and Angel watched the sway of Buffy's slim hips.

<Damn it! I don't want to have coffee. I want to go back in and have sex on the floor…and on the couch…against the wall on the stair landing…and in her room…at that window.>

With school on break for the winter holidays, a table at the back of the Bronze was a rare and desperately coveted prize. Being a simple and small-town night spot, the Bronze did not cater to reservations so prized seating was a first come, first claim commodity, unless one happened to be capable of the tried and true method of acquisition known as intimidation, a skill Angel excelled at, so in short order a table was theirs.

It was tucked in a shadowed alcove and was as quiet and secluded as the crowded club was likely to get.

Buffy glanced around, half expecting to find the gang grouped around a table near the dance floor, but there was no sign of Willow, Xander or their respective love interests, a happenstance she was grateful for. She didn't want to have to explain Angel or his presence…at least not until they had talked things over and she understood where they stood herself. Not that they had done much talking since they had arrived at the Bronze; they had ordered the drinks that sat untouched between them and then had sat in silence.

Angel couldn't take his eyes off Buffy. He hadn't realized just how starved he had been for the sight of her. Her presence was a bliss he had nearly forgotten. He couldn't help cherishing every little smile she gave or any touch she gave him. Their hands had brushed innocently as they had seated themselves and his pants had been uncomfortably tight ever since.

<Look, I know you want to romance her. Can't we just recite poetry or something while we fuck her?>

Angel choked on a sip of his tepid tea and waved Buffy's concern aside as he cleared his throat. <Can't you think of anything else?> Angel asked his demon irritably.

<Well…no,> Angelus responded. <What's this? You suddenly remember that I'm here, soul boy? You've been ignoring me for so long, pretending I wasn't here that I was beginning to wonder whether or not you could even hear me.>

<I hear you. I give you the attention you deserve. None. And you've been getting awfully chatty since we hit town.> Angel replied, watching his concerned love watch him.

<What can I say?> the demon drawled. <I was as unhappy in LA as you were and saw no point in being 'chatty' as you call it. And here…with her. I'm happy. You're happy. I've got things to say and things to want. And for hell's sake, would you take the girl out on to the dance floor and at least cop a feel?>

Angel saw Buffy's head bobbing to the song that had just started playing. He reached his hand across the table to gently squeeze hers.

Angel led her to the crowded dance floor and pulled her in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his waist and laid cheek against his chest. It felt so good to be back in his strong arms…so good to feel his coolness against her.

If you're lost you can look - and you will find me
Time after time
If you fall I will catch you - I'll be waiting
Time after time

After my picture fades and darkness has
Turned to gray
Watching through windows - you're wondering
If I'm O.K.
Secrets stolen from deep inside
The drum beats out of time -

Angel reached around to capture one of her hands. He twined his fingers with hers and brought them to his lips to kiss; that one gesture told her more than any words he could say would ever tell her. She laid her head back on his shoulder and snuggled closer in his arms. He laid his face on the top of her head and inhaled her intoxicating aroma.

<You're killing me. You're honestly killing me. Stop being so sentimental and cop a damn feel. Her ass. Her breast. Fuck, give me a scrap here. In fact, enough of this lovey-dovey wuss shit. I want to fuck her. You want to fuck her. She wants to be fucked. When do we get to fuck her?> Angelus asked impatiently.

<When the time comes I'll be making love to her,> Angel answered, easily slipping into the long forgotten habit of responding.

<Call it what you want as long as it's skin to skin…and as long as she's screaming and clawing up our back. I really liked it when she did that.>, the demon reminisced fondly.

This time Angel ignored him, his own limited memories of Buffy too precious to share.

One song seemed to turn into two, and then three into four and on and on; slow or fast, Buffy and Angel never seemed to move any faster. They clung to each other as the music floated over them and the people moved around them.

As much as Angel was enjoying having his love in his arms he knew they needed to talk. He leaned down and kissed her ear before whispering, "Buffy this is great and I'm really enjoying myself but I think we need to talk. Maybe we need to find a quieter place."

Buffy lifted her head off Angel's chest to look around the club; he was right. Instead of the crowd thinning it looked like more people had come in. As much as she hated to leave his arms, they needed to talk.

Angel glanced around the dimly lit diner: several tables occupied by whispering couples whose conversations were muted by a soft music playing in the background on a jukebox.

Buffy had told him that the diner was relatively new. Located in the warehouse district of Sunnydale, it catered mostly to truck drivers passing through and men and women meeting for illicit purposes. And it was only a few blocks away from Willies.

He and Buffy had taken a table towards the back so they could see the entrance and exits - a predator paranoia Cordelia had never understood and had often disparaged. They sat across from each other in the red vinyl booth with a red and silver Formica table separating them.

Again they had ordered and again their orders sat between them, unwanted obstacles to their conversation. Angel hadn't touched his tepid tea and Buffy was only stirring her soda while her apple pie congealed unappetizingly. Now that they were in a quieter atmosphere neither seemed inclined to talk; other than placing their order and Buffy catching Angel up on the latest developments in the lives of Willow, Tara, Xander and Anya, they hadn't said much.

Angel reached across the table and took her small hands in his. "I think I need to start." He leaned closer across the booth. "Buffy I could go into a long list of everything I've done wrong since the moment I asked you if you loved me before I told you about Dru. The thing is I've made every conceivable mistake in the virtual *Book of Love*. Every mistake but stop loving you. That I've never done. No matter what has happened in the past Buffy I've always loved you and I always will." He paused, searching for the right words. "Last night, yesterday..." For a moment Angel seemed confused. "Let's just say an old and dear friend showed me where my choices would take me - my wrong choices that is. It wasn't pretty. The point is, Buffy without you in my life I don't have a life. I have an unlife. You are the only one that has ever made me feel alive. Unbreathing, no heartbeat or body temperature but when I'm with you I feel alive. No one has ever made me feel that way again. Buffy I'd die over a thousand times to be with you, to keep you safe, to prove my love to you. I left you for many reasons Buffy," he decided to leave the part about her mother out of his explanation, "Mainly because I was afraid."

"Of loving you too much. Of having you waste your life on a thing who couldn't give you anything. Children, sunshine, Buffy I couldn't even kiss you properly for fear the demon in me would be unleashed again. And I'd do anything to keep him from hurting you again."

Angel closed down his demon. He pushed him as far as he could into the background. "I was weak Buffy. Every moment with you I wanted you. I knew eventually I'd lose all self-control. I was so afraid that one day you'd wake up and ask yourself why you'd wasted your life on a man who couldn't give you anything."

"You're so wrong Angel. You gave me everything. My life was ruined the night you turned on your heel and walked away from me. That's when my life was ruined. You warned me a long time ago that when I kissed you I wouldn't wake up from a fairy tale and live happily ever after. I knew that back then and accepted it. I've always known it to be true. Back then I told you that when you kiss me I want to die."

The answer had so shocked him at the time that he hadn't known how to respond; she had sprinted away from him before he could ask her what she meant and he had never gotten up the nerve to ask afterwards.

Buffy thought about the innocent 16 year old girl who had only seen Angel in her future. Who had only wanted Angel in her future.

"Just what I said. When I'm in your arms Angel, it's like if I die right then, it will be okay because I've already tasted heaven on earth."

She didn't get a chance to finish; Angel's torso was across the table and he was leaning into her as she met him half way their lips met in a tender kiss.

He gently nipped her bottom lip before sucking it between his teeth. He ran his cool tongue across her lips before he slipped his tongue between her lips urgently to taste the sweetness of her mouth.

Buffy met his urgency with her own, her little pink tongue caressing his and tasting the spicy flavor of him.

Angel cupped her head in his palms, drawing her closer to him. Her warmth permeated every pore of his body. He had forgotten how delicious she tasted; her flavor was earthy and sweet. Her arousal perfumed the air and Angel inhaled it as he began sucking on his lover's little hot tongue.

She crooned softly into his mouth, a soft vocal tribute to the pleasure he so generously lavished upon her and clung to his shoulders, her small fingers digging into his shirt desperately. She wanted to get closer to him, needed to be closer to him. Did he know the power of his kisses? Did he know just how good he tasted? How good he felt? How could he not?

The kiss was igniting him and he knew his hunger for her was slipping its leash. Not the demon, just his own passion and desperate desire for her. It had been too long since he'd held his love in his arms…since he smelled the erotic aroma of her arousal; he wanted to lift up her dress and impale her in one hard thrust.

<Not that I'm not enjoying this Romeo, but you are about to put your elbow in her apple pie. It might ruin the *romance* of the moment.>

Angel's brain slowly clicked in to the warning that his frustrated demon had relayed and remembered that they were at a diner; this was just not the place to make out with his lady. Reluctantly he gentled the hot kiss, cooling his raging passion and retracting his tongue from her mouth, which was difficult: one because he could never get enough of the taste of her and two because his lover had a vacuum hold on his tongue.

He growled softly and continued to gentle the kiss, extracting his tongue from her mouth. She whimpered and he nibbled at her bottom lip in consolation before licking the swollen, pouty curve.

Angel fisted his fingers in her hair and gently, but firmly pulled away; she moaned softly in desolation. He trailed a cool open-mouthed kiss to her ear and whispered, "Later. We need to get some things worked out first."

"So we will never ever doubt each other's love again. So we will never leave each other again."

Buffy thought about all that Kendra had shown her. He had sacrificed his humanity to save her life. He had unselfishly given it back for the chance to protect her. The demon had said "Together you are strong." She intended to be with Angel forever. Only death would take her from his side. She decided to tell him so, "Death is the only way I'll let you leave me again," she vowed. "Even then I'll follow you to the beyond. I want eternity Angel."

Angel locked eyes with her. He loved her. He had been looking for the right words to assure her he'd never leave her, to express his love for her. He, a man who had spent a life time reading books, a man over two centuries old and his love not yet 20 years old had put it into three sentences. He couldn't help but smile at the irony of it all.

His heated gaze locked with hers, their hunger for each other nearly scorching the air between them. He threw a twenty on the table, nearly three times the amount of their tab and they both scooted out of the booth.

They barely made it to the car before he spun her around to take her lips in a kiss so hot Buffy felt steam was rising from them.

Backing her against the vehicle, Angel lifted her on to the hood of the car and stepped between her thighs. He clutched her to him, arching her until her breasts pressed against the wall of his chest.

Her breath caught at the anticipation of having him there, poised at the entrance of her body and Buffy moaned, tangling her fingers in his dark hair and pulling him closer to her. She opened her mouth wider to allow him better access and Angel's tongue licked every corner of her lips before voraciously sucking her tongue.

She tasted just as he remembered and more: sweet, earthy, natural. He couldn't get enough of her. He wanted to devour her. All of her.

She was breathless; it had been so long since she'd had free access to the pleasures of Angel's cool mouth. He tasted exactly as she remembered: spicy and mysterious. She drank him in.

His deep growls of pleasure caused heat to travel through her body and pool at her most intimate point. The moisture seeped from her core dampening her thong and she scooted closer to him, knowing that he could assuage the ache that was beginning to build between her thighs.

Angel felt the heat of her body increasing and he could smell the moisture of her core tantalizing him with her body's eager invitation.

Unthinking, he laid his hand on her thigh and slowly began to ease her skirt upward to give him access to the treasure of her feminine core. He cursed the demure yet provocative skirt he had admired before, gathering the material in his fist until he could lay his hand upon the hot flesh of her thigh.

Buffy broke the kiss to draw in a ragged and desperate breath, her heartbeat thundering in her ears. She trailed several soft kisses over his jaw and paused over the silent artery of his throat before she latched on to the cool skin of his neck and bit down firmly, sucking hard. Angel's hoarse groan of pleasure was almost her undoing and she released his neck and trailed kisses back to the paradise of his mouth. Her tongue tangled with his and she drank deeply of her lover.

Angel groaned; he was so hard it was painful. He felt as if all his blood had rushed from every part of his body to that one muscle between his legs. Every long thick inch of it. He was light headed with desire and he could smell her arousal; it tickled his nose and was the sweetest perfume he smelled in over two years. He leaned into her pushing her back against the hood of the car and almost climbing on top of her, deepening his impassioned worship of her mouth.

Angel's eyes blazed saffron gold with passion. He looked down at Buffy's splayed thighs, her skirt pooled nearly at her waist, her golden legs and everything in between open to his gaze. His mouth suddenly went dry and he licked his lips; she looked good enough to eat and as the thought entered his mind, he dropped to his knees in front of her.

He inhaled deeply as he slid her skirt up her hips, pulling her closer to him as his shoulders pushed her thighs further apart.

"Angel?" Buffy asked missing the cool touch of his body against his. She rose up on her elbows to look at her lover; the sight of him between her thighs caused her breath to hitch. "I thought you wanted to wait."

Angel gave her a wicked smile and opened his mouth as he pulled her to meet his lips. He didn't remove her panties but sucked her through them; the friction between the smooth silk and his rough cool tongue had Buffy moaning and grinding her core eagerly into Angel's mouth.

He loved the smell of her desire…the taste of her essence. In one move he ripped her thong from her with his teeth and plunged his tongue into her steaming depths.

Buffy had enough presence of mind to muffle her scream of pleasure by throwing her arms across her mouth as she arched against her demanding lover.

Angel was relentless, his tongue plunging in her depths over and over again as his fingers gently plucked her clit. He could hear Buffy's harsh breaths as she neared her climax. He had forgotten how her body heated as she neared orgasm. He could smell it coming. He could smell her cum as it prepared to leave her body.

<God damn it you idiot. You would pick a public place to give in. Get your face out of her cunt now, we've got company. A cop. A cop!>

The crunch of shoes crossing the asphalt reached him and Angel groaned in frustration. Not now. Not now! She was so close. But the shoes were drawing closer and he could see the beam of the officer's flashlight wavering as he walked toward them.

Reluctantly, he pulled away from her, flicking her skirt back down to protect her from prying eyes.

Buffy wailed at the loss of the pinnacle of pleasure that had been so close and scrabbled desperately at Angel's arms.

He rose from his place of worship and gathered her unsatisfied body in his arms tenderly. "I'm sorry baby," he whispered.

"All right you two," the Sunnydale cop shined his light mercilessly upon the two lovers. "Take it home before I run you two in for lewd acts or something."

Buffy flushed with embarrassment and unfulfilled desire. She pressed her face into Angel's shoulder, the ache in her body sharp and nearly painful.

She couldn't believe it. For years the Sunnydale police had made themselves scarce around this district, never there to save a single soul from a vamp attack and always hours late to pick up a body. And now, NOW, one showed up NOW to hassle them for acts of public lewdness. It was so unfair.

<See,> Angelus snarled. <If you were going to give in, you should have done so at the damn house, like I told you to. Now she's unsatisfied. And I'm unsatisfied.>

<Who cares about you. You're the idiot who had to romance her and then ended up with your face between her legs in a damn parking lot. Real class there, Romeo. Should've left it to me.>

"We're going," Angel muttered hoarsely. He eased Buffy from the hood of his car and escorted her around to the passenger door, allowing her to continue to hide in his chest. He held the door open for her and she disappeared quickly into the dark safety of his car.

The cop watched with clear disapproval as Angel walked back around to the other side of the car and slid into the driver's seat.

"Not your fault. Bad timing." She grinned ruefully. "Maybe we should keep our PDAs to the cemeteries where we can at least kill the people who interrupt us."

Angel laughed softly and pulled her in for a brief kiss. "You're probably right."

She stared at him tenderly, her body aching with unfulfilled passion and her eyes alight with love. "We should get out of here before that cop decides a little warning isn't enough."

Just after Angel started the car, his telephone rang. He fumbled around in his coat pocket and flipped open the telephone.

Willie let out a wry laugh. "They just walked in the bar and sat down." He said in disbelief. "It's like they knew you were looking for them."

"Don't let them leave. I'll be there in 20." He flipped the telephone closed without saying goodbye and turned to look at Buffy.

<Good! Since you're obviously too stupid to fuck at least we can kick some ass and release some of this pent up energy.> Angelus snarled.

"Willie." Angel strode casually into the bar, glancing around the room and checking out the other occupants.

"Angel?" Willie nervously responded to the coldness and the hard glint in his eyes. "That is you right, Angel. Not Angelus?"

Willie stared at him for a few minutes before accepting his response. He motioned to the table to the left of him. "Can you try not to totally destroy the bar?" he pleaded.

Angel spared him a glance as he headed towards the demons, then tossed several bills on the bar, enough to cover any damage about to occur. "No promises."

"Well, Well, look here?" The D'ebrak demon smirked. "If it isn't Angelus, the Slayer's pussy whipped boyfriend." The D'ebrak demon smirked. Sniffing, he chortled. "I can smell her all over you."

Angel gave a chilling smirk that was all Angelus. "Jealous?" It was a deliberately provoking taunt.

The D'ebrak demon stood up looking at his companions as if to assure himself that they would help him. The patrons in the club, realizing there was going to be a fight, started placing bets with Willie on the outcome.

In the background one of the demons murmured loud enough for Angel and the demons to hear, "Angel or Angelus he's still one mean son of a bitch."

<We'll take out the big scaly one first and then rip off the head of the Lokiue demon. After that we'll just pick them off one by one. After all, we've got some pent up energy to burn…>

"This isn't a fight you can win, vampire. The odds are pretty steep. Sorta hard for me to lose this one," the D'ebrak demon bragged, already relishing in the prestige that would go to the demon that defeated Angelus. Even if at the time he was the pussy whipped Angel.

"Odds look ok to me." Angel replied, the threat in his voice unmistakable. He watched the demons as they all pushed away from the table and stood. Whether they wished it or not, two of them were already showing signs of fear.

<Finally a little action. > Angelus rejoiced. <Blood and Carnage. Now this is what I call a good time.>

The D'ebrak demon attacked throwing himself at Angel with a roar. His first mistake. Angel ducked the demons punch, bragging his ham-like arm and swung him around in an arch knocking the other demons back. He then seized the D'ebrak in his arms and with a violent twist and jerk, the resounding crack was heard throughout the bar as Angel broke the demons neck and dropped him to the floor. Before the D'ebrak demon even hit the ground, Angel had moved on to the next demon.

He grabbed the next demon, the Lokiue, with a move so fast that the gaping onlookers in the bar almost didn't see it. Angel pulled the Lokiue demon's head off his body. His neck cavity spewed foul yellow substances as his body still stood twitching. Angel threw the head still clutched in his hand over his shoulder into the crowd. The demon's body fell to the ground, still twitching in death as his head was now being batted around the bar.

<Yeah, now this is what I call working off a little frustration. The next best thing to fucking.>

Angel gave a vicious smile at the remaining demons, and curled his fingers at them in invitation. "Bring it on."

They rushed him in an attempt to over power him with their numbers. It didn't succeed. Despite the odds of four against one, the fight was over quickly. Angel dropped kicked the the demon closest to him knocking him to the ground. The blow was so powerful Angel's foot went through the demons skin,muscles, crunching bones as it entered it's chest and as it exited through the other side. It was a quick, painful violent death. The Lokiu death gasp was still floating on the air as Angel turned to the other demons. The two remaining demons had been better fighters than the first two, managing to land a few well-placed blows, but Angel - with Angelus egging him on - managed to wreak some serious havoc on the foursome.

Wiping the blood off his face with a napkin from the bar, Angel left the bodies for Willie to dispose of.

<Now that. That was fun. Any chance we can get laid now?> Angel sighed. His demon seemed to have a one-track mind.

Buffy dropped the splintered stake on the ground with a shrug. It had served its purpose; she had taken out the two vamps in the cemetery and one in the park. Still too keyed up to think of sleep, she decided to return home and pick up a few more weapons then take a sweep down by the beach. If she was lucky, she'd find a demon nest or two which along with some action to help burn off more of this sexual frustration.

As she walked toward the entrance to the cemetery, she reflected on her earlier embraces with Angel. Her cheeks grew warm as she thought about him, his lips, his hands on her. It was his fault that she was too hot and bothered to sleep… She grinned, unashamed of any of it and wanting more. Soon. Even… now.

She had only just felt that familiar tingling sensation when a large body appeared in front of her, having stepped out of the shadows of the nearby crypt.

"Buffy?" Angel's surprise was obvious. He hadn't expected to see her again tonight, but then he should have guessed that she might have gone on patrol. He had heard noises coming from the back of the cemetery and had been on his way to investigate when she nearly walked into him.

"Angel?" Buffy smiled, surprised but pleased to see him again so soon. In the next instant she frowned, taking in the cut over his eye and the slightly swollen cheek. She stepped forward and lifted her hand. "Your eye- that cut…"

It was the first touch of her hand on his face that was his undoing. He was no longer able to restrain himself, especially after the earlier fiasco. Reaching out, he grabbed her, fairly dragging her to him as his lips descended on hers.

Angelus stirred within, snorting in approval. <Finally! I was beginning to think you didn't know how to get under her skirt. Don't fuck it up this time.>

She wanted him. But then she always wanted him. Her hunger was too strong, too sharp in renewed acceptance for her to ignore or mistake it any longer. The arms now locked around her were a welcome cage; the hard body pressed to hers a longed-for delight.

Angel plundered her mouth, ruthless and reckless, his earlier gentle demeanor forgotten in the heat of passion. Buffy responded eagerly, luring him to take more from her as she gave in to the raw need that was threatening to consume her.

He exalted in the desire he could sense that he evoked in her, a desire that equaled his own. His kiss deepened, his tongue probing her mouth. She felt the swelling surge of passion, his and hers, and she reveled in it. The heady wave grew into a vortex of heat, swirling about them, flames licking at them, consuming them.

Buffy twined her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts hard against his chest and struggling to get closer. When he finally lifted his head, she was breathless. With effort, she opened her eyes to see his face. She could see the hard edge of desire clearly on his sharp features, his eyes glinting gold under his lids as they were fixed on hers. In the next instant she was lifted and walked backwards. Her back met the wall of the crypt behind her.

"Didn't you want to wait?" she teased, her fingers stroking the hair at his nape, her breath now coming in short pants.

"No." He growled, flashing her a searing glance. The fight with the demons earlier had done little to assuage his hunger, his burning need for consummation. He took her mouth again in a devouring kiss, his hands resting on the wall on either side of her head, his body pressed firmly against her. She could feel his arousal against her stomach and she arched into it, rocking slightly from side to side.

Without a word she tugged his head down, closing her eyes, answering his question with her actions.

When she reached out for him, Angel felt an emotion stronger than lust pass through his senses. He kissed her again and again, starved for the taste of her. Buffy responded eagerly, meeting him kiss for kiss.

Bending slightly, his hands swept her skirt up over her hips, stopping at her waist. "I can't wait." He glanced at her in apology as his words came out a rough murmur.

At that moment, Buffy was glad that she hadn't taken the time to change into jeans after their date, eager to give him access to that part of her that was aching for him.

As his hands swept up her thighs, Buffy took a deep breath. She was aching and hot, wanting him with an urgency that matched his own. Reaching out, she unbuckled his belt and fumbled with the button and zipper on his pants. She pushed them down slightly, along with his boxers, and reached for his pulsing erection. He grunted when she grasped it in his hand, her fingers closing over him to sweep down in an eager caress.

Angel brushed his fingers over her wet naked cleft. She was hot and wet and he could wait no longer. Lifting her, he lowered her onto his cock as she guided him to her heated entrance.

Buffy groaned as she sank down, his hard length filling her. She was impaled on him, filled with him and nothing had felt so good. She wrapped her legs around his waist and dug her hands into the back of his neck as he braced her against the wall and began to move.

The driving urgency of the moment had overridden any of their earlier reservations about waiting, about getting to know each other again, about the curse. They were consumed only by blind need for each other.

Angel plunged into her with hard strokes, shaking her with every thrust. His fast, relentless rhythm pushed them ever toward that pinnacle, that spiraling ecstasy that was building with increasing urgency. Buffy clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders as she attempted to meet each thrust.

Suddenly she was careening over the edge, the world shattering around her. She cried out, clawing at Angel's shoulders and arms. He joined her then, releasing a hoarse groan near her ear as he poured his own climax into her.

For long moments they stood there, Angel leaning heavily on her against the wall of the crypt, Buffy still intimately wrapped around him. Finally Angel leaned back, lowering her legs gently to the ground.

"Are you all right? Did I hurt you?" He was genuinely concerned, having lost all attempts at control.

<I didn't think she could get better than that first time…Can we do it again?>

"Yes and no." Buffy wrinkled her nose, smiling at him. She loved it that he was so protective of her, that he treated her as if she were fragile when so many others didn't. She fixed her clothing, smoothing her skirt down.

"I'm sorry. I know we were going to wait… I-" Angel zipped his pants, feeling a bit like an adolescent.

"We waited. Okay, maybe only about an hour and 15 minutes." Buffy stepped up to him and raised herself up on tiptoe, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him softly. "But we waited more than 2 years. Isn't that long enough?"

"I love you. With all my heart, my body, my soul. I'm yours." Buffy kissed him again, feeling content and sated for the moment. The earlier nervous energy had dissipated. "Let's go home."

Buffy had slept deeply and soundlessly after Angel had walked her home. They had shared a few kisses at her door, and although she had wanted him to stay with her, he reluctantly declined. He still had a few things to take care of at the mansion before Christmas, and he didn't want to spend the day trapped at her house.