Wesley Wyhdham – Pryce ran his fingers over every books spin on the self he skipped down to the next row. “Come on. Come on.” He whispered impatiently. “Ouch!” He jerked his hand away, sucking on his bleeding finger. He took the book that had cut him from the self. It was the one Angel had thrown through the – now repaired- window. “Hmm…” Wesley pulled the glass from the spin, and put it into the trash. He flipped through the pages not sure what he was looking for. He sat on the edge of the desk. When he got toward the back papers fell out. “Oops.” He bent to pick them up.
They were placed back into the book as looked through them. There was a picture of her. She was beautiful, sweet, and innocent. There were his drawings of Buffy, also. Angel had spent time drawing her in different ways, same as the picture, sleeping, sitting, standing, up close far away, then one with her sprawled across a bed. The book snapped shut. “Oh, my.” He placed the book back on the self hurriedly. He spotted the book that he had been looking for, grabbed it and walk into the lobby. Reading the book while he walked he heard Angel and Cordelia talking. ((Angel is back.)) He looked up from his book and almost dropping it. “Ahh.”
“Nice to see you, too, Wes.” Buffy said, trying not to laugh at the clumsy Brit.
“Buffy, when did you get here?” Wesley tried not to look at her, while picking up his book.
“Little before dawn.” She replied. “Just in time for Angel to run for cover.”
“Cover?” Wesley asked.
“Sunlight equals dust.” She explained.
Angel walked to Buffy, “Let me take these for you.” He reached for her bags. She wouldn’t give them up. “Buffy, you’re in a hotel. Think of me...as the bellboy." Angel stated.
“As long as you don't have to wear one of those red suits.” She said. “But, I’m warning you, they’re heavy.”
“Sure they – my God! What do you have in here?”
“Everything I own.” Buffy said, standing on her tip – toes giving Angel a kiss. Then bouncing off to talk to Cordy.
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Angel was in his office working on a case when Buffy walked in.
She plopped down in the chair opposite of Angel’s, and stared at him.
Angel looked up, raised an eyebrow, and then asked. “Can I help you with something?”
“I need a book.” She stated.
Angel gestured to the bookcase. “Help yourself.”
“Not a book. A spell book.”
“You’re not doing a spell.” Angel said sternly. “Then tend to badly around here.”
“No, I’m not going to. It’s just, a few days ago Willow said something and it’s been bugging me. That’s all.”
“Alright.” Angel said, getting up. He scanned the self and came across his poetry book. He furrowed his brows at it.
“What?”
“My poetry book. It doesn’t go here.”
“Maybe somebody else was reading it.”
“Who? Cordy?”
Buffy laughed, “No, Wesley, maybe?”
“Hmm..” He flipped through it.
“What’s wrong?”
“My drawings are on the wrong page.” Angel grabbed another book. “Here. Spell book.”
“Thank you.” She paused before walking out. “Can I see them?”
“What?”
“Your drawings.”
“They’re…not…uh…finished.” Angel lied.
“You’re a horrible liar.”
“Fine.” He handed Buffy the picture and drawings. “But I tried to warn you.”
Buffy glanced at her picture. “What possessed me to wear that outfit? I’ll never know.”
“I liked it.” Angel said, taking a seat at his desk.
She gave him a raised eyebrow, “You would.” She moved to the drawings. The first one was close up; when she had been sleeping on Giles’ desk in the library. She smiled. “Was this…?”
“Yeah, right before you woke up screaming.”
“Weird, I look peaceful.”
“Looks can be deceiving.”
“Yeah.” The second one was farther away and more recent. The setting was a beach; Buffy was sitting on a rock under the full moon. Her head snapped up and she looked at Angel. “You saw this?”
“Sorry.” Angel said. “I was out walking and I just saw you sitting there; you looked so beautiful.”
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It was mid summer and a full moon. Buffy was on a routine patrol, but not having any luck with finding something to hit. She was in Docktown and decided to go to the beach before going home. Buffy walked through the soft sand to a huge stone by the waters edge. The waves were crashing into it rhythmically. She sat upon the stone, taking her jacket off, and her hair down. Buffy pulled her knees to her chest, hugged them there with crossed arms, and rested her cheek on her knee. Letting the cool, salty breeze coming off the sea wash over he, fill her lungs, and move back out to sea again with the tide. The sweet, brackish breeze washed over her again, picking up Buffy’s golden hair, teasing it, then letting it fall back onto her shoulders.
Angel watched this happen over and over again, he had a need to sit behind her and pull Buffy into his embrace. But he didn’t. He stood among the shadows watching his beloved, trying to look inside of her head. Sometimes he never knew what she was thinking. Except he knew exactly what she wanted right now, for he wanted the same.
Buffy knew he would be leaving her soon. She just wanted one last moment alone with Angel. No demons – real or personal. No regrets, looking into the past, wishing things were different. She needed him just hold her, touch her, kiss her, love her, like before that stormy night.
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Coming back to the present, Buffy and Angel looked at each other and smiled.
Then Buffy moved to the last drawing. She was sprawled across a bed with a come hither grin. The picture was that of Angel’s imagination. Yet, all the details were perfect.
He had snuck into her room on graduation night and saw her getting out of the shower. He had scared her out of her wits and there she stood stark naked.
Buffy looked at Angel. He was busying himself with papers and writing. “This one a personal favorite?”
Angel then looked at Buffy. He saw the humor and love growing in her eyes. “Yeah.”
“And I wondered why Wesley wouldn’t look me in the eye.” Buffy commented. “You sure don’t leave anything to the imagination, do you?”
“Wesley?” Angel asked. “You think he saw these?” Angel made a face. “That’s disturbing.”
“Oh, yeah, thanks.” Buffy said, sarcastically.
“I meant,” Angel said walking to Buffy and wrapped his arms around her. “That I don’t want my associate having a full map,” he slide his hand down to her inner – thigh. “Of my girl’s body.”
Just at that minute, Wesley walked through the door, saw the intimate moment, and walked backwards out pulling the door to, whispering, “Bad, bad day, terrible day."
Angel sighed, squeezed Buffy’s leg, and broke away from her. Buffy went into a fit of laughter. Angel stared at her with a look that clearly stated, ‘This is not funny.’
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While Angel sat at his desk looking through files to catch up on cases, Buffy sat on the floor at the end of Angel’s desk skimming through the spell book Angel had lent her, “Find it yet?” He asked.
“Nope.”
“You’ve been looking at that book for hours.”
“Well,” Buffy said, plainly aggravated. “Latin isn’t exactly my first language.” A pause. “And as-matter-of-fact, it’s not my second either!”
“You could’ve asked for help.” Angel suggested, softly.
Buffy sighed audibly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell.” She said pitifully. “Just…” She yawned. “A little sleepy.”
Angel knelt beside Buffy on the floor. He wrapped his arms around her middle, gently rubbing her abdomen. Angel leaned and kissed Buffy’s temple. “Mmm.” Buffy closed her eyes and smiled her approval. She leaned into his protective embrace. He then gathered her into his arms and came to his feet.
“Bedtime, Sweetheart.” Angel whispered, his cold breath moving over her face.
Buffy wrapped her arms around Angel’s neck giving him a loud, quick kiss on the lips. Then buried her face in his neck. A small grin crept across Angel’s lips as his love asked, “My sweet Angel carrying me off to bed?”
“You bet.”
“Sleepy.” Buffy yawned again.
“That’s why you’re going to bed.”
Angel was up the stairs now. He pulled open his bedroom door. Pulling back the covers, Angel laid Buffy onto the bed. Sitting beside her, Angel pulled her socks and shoes off. Then he unbuttoned her jeans, slowly sliding them over her warm tanned legs. He reached under her shirt, undoing her bra and slipped it off, dropping her discarded clothes to the floor. Next was her wine colored sweater. He removed all these articles with tenderness trying not to pull her from her sweet reverie. When his task was fulfilled with triumph, Angel stripped down to his boxers and slide into bed beside his lovely Buffy. “Hmm.” Buffy hummed snuggling closer to Angel. “That was great.” she smiled up at him.
He kissed the tip of her nose. “Are you turned on by me undressing you?”
“No, not exactly. More like whenever you touch me. Especially when you do so with such gentleness, and your touch feels like light feathers tickling my skin. And bring all of my nerve endings into a thrill full chill." She buried her face in Angel's chest. He wrapped his arms around her. He slipped one hand down beneath the covers and covered her abdomen with it. He felt her smile against his cool skin.
This is how he'd always wanted it to be. Him. Buffy. A baby. Together. Forever.
As though reading his thoughts, Buffy lifted up, and kissed Angel lightly on the lips. ((Forever.)) He thought. ((That's the whole point, isn't?))
"And always." Buffy whispered, drifting into a sweet dream.
Angel looked at his Buffy. He now realized: This is how it was meant to be. Don't regret anything. Live life to it's fullest. This was meant to last forever, always, and eternity. Of only he had come to this conclusion that last night together.
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The warm spray of water pored over her, washing and cleansing her. The grim and dust fell away from her after much scrubbing with soap and a spoof. The spoof would have to be disposed of. And her skin was red and burning from the force behind the scrubbing motions. Finally, feeling the tingle of cleanliness, Buffy turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. The door swung open and Buffy stopped in the middle of the bathroom, Stark naked. Angel appeared in the doorway, eyes wide that he had caught Buffy in this situation. Buffy, with equal- maybe even more- surprise stood there frozen in a moment of astonishment. Her eyes were wide and lips parted. Angel smiled a wicked grin a look a step forward and then another, until he was standing face-to-face with his beloved. Buffy looked up at him unsure of his intentions. That is until he pulled her against him and pressed their lips together. Buffy, still reeling in shock, stood there ram rod straight as Angel parted her lips to allow entrance for his tongue. Then Buffy melted against him as he plunged deeper into her mouth, feeling his way into her soul. Buffy, with a surge of passion and forgetting her prier embarrassment; pushed Angel’s cool tongue out of her mouth and began to explore his mouth with probing intensity. Buffy ran her tongue over the roof of Angel’s mouth causing his to pull away with a growl.
Angel stared into her eyes then watched a droplet of water fall from her cheek. His glare moved down her body slowly taking it all in. She felt as if his eyes left burn marks tailing down her naked body. Buffy wouldn’t allow her self look Angel in the eyes as his gaze traveled back up her body then stopped at her face. He lifted her chin up with two fingers so that he could look into her eyes. “Look at me, Buffy.” She looked at him and was surprised at the emotion he saw in the chocolate depth of his eyes. There, in the velvety soulful ness, was all the things he long to say, but he didn’t need to. Buffy could read it all, the loneliness, the sadness, the regret, the longing, the faith, the world on hopefulness that maybe one day she would forgive him for his selfishness, the guilt over leaving his one true love, and then finally the most intense need, Lust.
Buffy looked over his body. Then she looked back up at him,” You’re wet.”
Angel laughed looking down at himself, “Yeah, I guess I am.” He started to unbutton his shirt and the first glance of his flesh sent a chill, and then a slow liquid warmth through Buffy. Angel noticed her shiver but took it the wrong way, “You’re cold.” He looked around and grabbed the towel off the rack and wrapped it around Buffy. He then took her hand and led her from the bathroom. He stopped leading her when they got into Buffy’s bedroom. He pointed to the right side of her bed. “Sit.” She sat on the edge of the bed holding the way to short towel to her like a lifeline. Angel could smell the desire floating off of her like a very seducing perfume. He sat down beside her. “Buffy, I’m still leaving. I don’t want you to think any different.” He paused. “But I want you to know that this is for the best. If I stay you are doomed to a life of despair and unhappiness.”
“No, Angel, I love…” Angel placed a finger over her quivering lips, quieting her.
“Don’t say anything yet. I need to get this out.” He stopped to take in a deep useless breath, and then exhaled. “ The way I see things is that if I say here in Sunnydale, We’ll keep running into each other and playing this game allover, again.” He stroked the side of Buffy’s face where tears were forming small tracks down her cheek. “I love you, Buffy.” His own voice was becoming ruff with emotion. “I don’t want you to be miserable just, because I was selfish and wanted you to myself. You’ll find someone new, normal, and worthy of you.”
“I don’t want somebody else, Angel, I want you. Normal. What the hell is normal, anyway? Just a word to describe someone’s day-to-day life. Well, I already have that. I’m not miserable because of you. You are the one thing in my life that I look forward to when I wake-up in the morning. You the last thing I think about when I fall asleep at night. I want you and only you, Angel,” Buffy ran her fingers through his hair, and rested her palm on his pale cheek. “You’re it, the one thing in my life that makes me, me. That makes my life worth living. Why do you want to take that away from me? And you, you need me more than you need your life source. You depend on me to keep you sane and vice versa. Why would you want to destroy what we have? Because you don’t think you’re worthy?” Buffy stood, looking down at Angel. “You are damn well worthy. You think too little of yourself. You think that you are below every one else because you’re a vampire. Well, I’ve met people who can’t even compare to how wonderful and good hearted you are.” Angel sat there looking up at Buffy with a boyishly amused grin on his face. “What?” Buffy asked.
“Well…” Angel drawled. He looked up and down Buffy’s body. Then back up at Buffy, his eyes twinkling with merriment. Buffy looked down and saw that her towel had fallen to the floor. A blush spread allover Buffy’s body leaving behind a red tint on her usually tanned flesh. Her eyes went wide as Angel stood-up in front of her. He took her into his arms and held her. She buried her face in his partly bare chest. Kissing the top of her head he moved them around and flipped the bed covers down. Angel backed her up against the bed and made her sit down. “Lay down.” He whispered to her.
“I don’t know, Angel.” She said nervously.
“Buffy, sweetheart, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” She lay down and he pulled the covers up over her. Then he sat at her side. “You’ll need your rest in the morning.”
Angel went to get up to leave, but Buffy grabbed his arm. “Don’t leave.”
Angel looked down at her, “Buffy, I have to-“
“No,” she interrupted. “Just for tonight. Like old times.”
Angel swallowed audibly, ”Alright.”
He went to lie down beside her. “No,” Buffy stopped him.
“What?”
“Clothes.”
“Buffy, that’s not a good idea.”
“I just want-“ She stopped.
He nodded. “I know, I want to feel you against me, too.” Angel slipped off his shoes and socks, then his shirt, and then his pants. Buffy folded back the covers for him to get in. He slipped in beside her and wrapped his arms around her.
“I love you.” She whispered against his chest.
“I love you, too, Buffy.” Angel said, into his beloved’s hair.
“Angel?” Buffy asked, almost a sob. She pressed her body against him, leaving no room between them.
“Yeah?” Angel asked, his throat constricting with pain and pleasure of being near Buffy.
“This isn’t enough.” She said, desperately. “I need you.”
“I know. I know. I need you, too.” Angel placed his palm over one of Buffy’s breast feeling her heart pound beneath it. “God, Buffy, I need to be inside of you.”
“Please, Angel, Please.” Buffy pleaded.
That’s when they lost control of their self-discipline. Buffy was rolled onto her back. Angel felt heavy upon her, but it was welcome. Angel fumbled with the waistband of his boxers then finally got them off. Angel gathered Buffy in her arms. He placed his lips on hers leaving a trail of cool kisses down her chest. He dragged his tongue over Buffy’s nipple on her right breast while cupping the other breast in the palm of his right hand. Buffy smoothed her hands across the tight skin of Angel’s back, then up his neck, and tangled her fingers in his hair. As he softly bit her breast, she arched up into him and gasped. Angel treated her other breast to the same agonizing slow torture. Then he left another trial of cool kisses down her torso to her thighs, and that vulnerable place between her thighs. He thought she smelt of honey and vanilla. “Angel!” Buffy gasped.
Angel buried his face between Buffy’s breasts. “Buffy. Buffy. Buffy. Buffy.” He whispered there.
Buffy brought he face up and kissed him. He moved upward to fit her body with his. As he looked into her sad, yet loving eyes he gave her the only thing he could this last night they were together. His love for her. Then he was gone by morning.
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