Do What You Have To Do

AUTHOR: aimeless

EMAIL: aimeless@earthlink.net

RATING: I'm one of Lex's people. What do you think? [NC-17]

SPOILERS: Everything up to "Enemies".

SUMMARY: Angel realizes why he must leave Sunnydale.

DISCLAIMER: Sad, but true, they belong to Joss and Co. No, I don't think he deserves them either.

NOTES: Set to the lyrics of "Do What You Have To Do" by Sarah McLachlan, this fic contains major angst. It's my therapy for dealing with Angel-leavage. It does not have a happy ending, and if you don't want to be sad, go away now! Don't say I didn't warn you!

Text in // denotes lyrics

FEEDBACK: Please, of the polite variety.

// what ravages of spirit conjured this tempestuous rage?//
// created you, a monster, broken by the rule of love?//
// and fate has led you through it. you do what you have to do.//

The Vampire Angelus, the one with the angelic face, slept fitfully, unaware of the watchful eyes of The Powers. They were keeping a close watch on this anomaly, this vampire with a soul. His very presence created a disturbance in the balance which They worked so hard to maintain. His soul bound him to the side of good, but the demon within craved dominance. It was a fine line he walked between good and evil, a line delineated only by a moment of happiness...a line that had been crossed already. The Powers feared it happening again, and with good cause. As long as the ensouled demon remained near the Slayer, the possibility existed.

The Powers knew what they must do. The Vampire Angelus was far too valuable an ally to risk his loss. Evil had always held more appeal than good, and the balance had been slipping for thousands of years. This demon, with his ravaged soul, possessed enough power to tip the scales just enough so that the balance might be restored. He must not be allowed to return to his demonic self. He must never again experience the true happiness only the Slayer could give him. The Powers prepared for what they knew they must do.

// i have the sense to recognize that i don't know how to let you go.//

Angel woke abruptly, startled by a sound coming from the lower level of the mansion. Someone was down there. Angel rose swiftly from the bed and pulled on a pair of jeans tossed carelessly over a chair. Not bothering with a shirt, he moved stealthily from the room to the top of the staircase. He halted as a shiver of awareness danced up his spine. His cock went from dormant to half-mast in a heartbeat. There was an essence in the air that he would recognize anywhere. Buffy was here.

He walked quickly down the stairs, nervously anticipating the sight of her. He wasn't quite sure what to expect. She'd been studiously avoiding him since their plot to draw Faith out, claiming that she needed a break. Angel wondered if she had any idea just how much those words had cut him.

He glanced around the room, his gaze stopping on the diminutive Slayer curled up in a chair in front of his fireplace. Quietly, he made his way over to the chair, crouching in front of her sleeping form.

"Buffy," he spoke softly. She shifted, a barely discernable sound coming from her lips, "Angel." Angel reached out a hand, unsurprised by how much it shook, and gently cupped her face in his palm. He traced the line of her jaw, torn between wanting to wake her and wanting to simply watch her as she slept. She looked so peaceful, so right, curled there in his chair, in his home. With every fiber of his being he wanted to carry her upstairs and lose himself in her warmth, to dominate her body with his own until neither would ever be able to deny again that she belonged solely to him.

He was so tired of this battle between them. Their minds could try as hard as they wanted to deny it, but their bodies knew the truth. They belonged together. They were meant for each other. She was his, damn it! Her body belonged to him. Her heart had been given to him freely.

Angel felt his control slipping dangerously and he struggled to reign it in. He never wanted Buffy to know the effort it took him to remain in control when he was in her presence. If she were to even suspect how many times he'd been tempted to throw her over his shoulder and carry her off to some dark, secluded place where he could bury himself in her until neither of them could move, she would run away as fast as she possibly could. He clenched his jaw and squeezed his eyes shut, unwittingly tightening his grip on Buffy's neck as he struggled with himself.

Buffy woke to the feel of Angel's hand squeezing her neck. Her eyes flew open in shock, and she was stunned at the sight of Angel, eyes tightly shut, with his vampiric ridges rippling in and out. It was obvious that he was struggling, fighting some inner battle, and Buffy realized that he was unaware of his grip on her throat. She reached up with both hands to pull his hand away from her neck. "Angel," she said, her voice sounding weak to her own ears.

Angel's head snapped up and his yellow eyes drilled into hers. The fear he saw there, combined with the submissive way she'd said his name, sent him crashing over the edge of control. He roughly grasped her legs and pulled her hips toward him, pushing her knees apart so that he could kneel between them. He leaned forward and claimed her mouth, thrusting his tongue possessively between her lips, claiming her mouth with his own. She whimpered and thrust back, answering his unspoken demand.

He roughly pushed a hand into the hair at her nape and yanked her head back so that they were eye to eye. With his other hand he reached up and grasped the thin fabric of her dress. "Mine!" he growled at her, effortlessly shredding the garment from neckline to hem. Angel's control slipped further from his grasp as the scent of her arousal immediately intensified. He released his hold on her head to roam his hands over the newly exposed flesh. His mouth hungrily licked a path down her throat to her breast, sucking the nipple into his mouth. At Buffy's moan, he growled low in his throat and bit down just hard enough to break the skin.

"Oh!" Buffy cried out, startled to feel Angel's fangs in her breast. She looked down to see Angel licking a tiny drop of blood from her breast and was shocked to feel a gush of moisture flow out of her. She couldn't believe how erotic that small act was.

Angel's nostrils flared as the fresh scent of Buffy's arousal flowed over him. Following the scent to the center of her body, he ripped away the flimsy silk panties and delved his tongue into her wetness. Buffy's head flew back and she cried out in ecstasy. She was so wet that her honey was dripping out of her, flowing freely down her thighs. Angel dipped his tongue into her molten center, searching for and finding her clit. He ruthlessly teased the hard little nub, sucking it into his mouth, stroking it with his tongue, ever careful to keep it away from his teeth.

He inserted one long finger into her heat, looking up her body as he did so. "Buffy," he called to her, drawing her out of her passion induced trance. "Look at me!" Slowly, her head came up and her eyes met his. "Who do you belong to?" he demanded roughly.

Confusion marred her perfect features. She didn't understand what he wanted from her, could barely focus on anything but the ecstasy his fingers were eliciting. As he slid another finger into her, he bit down gently on her clit, making her gasp aloud as sensation washed over her. "Oh, holy God!" she cried out. She was close, so close to coming, and he knew it!

Angel slowed his actions slightly, just enough to prevent the orgasm she was so close to, and demanded again, "Who do you belong to?" He continued to tease her clit and soon a third finger slid easily into her.

Buffy thrashed wildly above him, her head flailing back and forth madly on the chair. She didn't want to give in to him. She didn't! He knew she was his, damn him. She had always belonged only to him. It was her torment, her curse. Why did he need to hear her say it? But she was close, so close, and it felt so good to have him there, where he hadn't been in so long. The words burst from her in an agonized stream.

"You! I belong to you!"

Angel growled in triumph and renewed his efforts, his fingers pumping in and out of her, his tongue and lips assaulting her oversensitized nub. Buffy exploded above him, screaming his name as her body convulsed and released a final stream of moisture, drenching Angel's face with her sweet honey.

Angel was mad with desire. It had been so long since he'd been this close to Buffy, so long that he'd been forced to maintain this brutal control over his passion. It wasn't just his natural desire for Buffy that he was fighting, but the demon's as well. Angel recognized firsthand that he wasn't the only one who wanted Buffy. Angelus was as besotted with her as he was. Keeping such a close check on an inhuman passion had taken its toll and suddenly Angel couldn't do it anymore. He reached down and unfastened his jeans, freeing his straining erection.

Grasping Buffy by the thighs, he yanked her towards him, sheathing his rock hard cock in her tightness in one smooth stroke. His agonized groan melded with her scream of ecstasy as she went off again like a firecracker. The feel of her inner muscles contracting around him pushed him beyond all rational thought. Finally! Was all his mind could register. Finally, he was where he was supposed to be. His body recognized its home; his soul recognized its mate.

Buffy feared that she was dying. The sensations exploding inside her were more than she could bear and remain alive. Her heart was soaring, her mind was racing, and her soul was shattering into a million tiny pieces. The reality of their actions was beginning to penetrate her passion-fogged mind. Terror was quickly dominating her emotions. "Angel!" she cried, tightening her legs around his hips to stop his thrusting. "Angel, stop!"

He looked up at her, his face in full vamp mode. He growled low in his throat, not understanding why she was screaming for him to stop. Slowly, the terror in her eyes registered and he began to realize what he was doing. Buffy was sprawled on the chair in front of him, her dress ripped to shreds by his hand, her legs around his hips, and his cock was buried as deep inside her as it could possibly go. The reality of his actions washed over him like a bucket of ice water. His face slowly morphed back to human as he ripped himself away from her heat, turning quickly away from the provocative picture she made.

"Oh, my God! What have I done?" he asked, his voice ragged.

// every moment marked with apparitions of your soul.//

Angel dragged a hand through his hair and wondered how in the hell he was going to fix this mess. He kept his back turned to Buffy as he painfully refastened his jeans. He could hear her movements behind him and knew she was attempting to cover herself with what was left of her dress. God, he had all but raped her! He scrubbed a hand over his eyes as he mentally berated himself for his actions. It was just one more crime to add to his two century long list.

"Are you alright?" he asked her gently.

"Yeah," she replied in a voice shaky with tears. She rose from the chair and retrieved her coat, pulling it over her tattered dress. "Are...are you?" she asked hesitantly.

Angel sighed at the sound of her voice, torn all over again at the fear he heard. The fear that he had put there. "I'm not him, if that's what you're asking," he reassured her.

"Why didn't you...he...? I don't understand," she said.

"I didn't..." he trailed off, unsure of how to phrase it. "I didn't finish, Buffy."

"Oh," she said softly. "Angel, look at me."

"I can't."

He felt her small hand on his shoulder. "Please look at me. Talk to me. I don't understand what just happened."

"Buffy, I can't. Not yet. Not right now. I'm afraid if I even look at you right now, it just might happen again. I'm barely holding on to my control as it is. I've spent too long fighting this and I don't know if I can keep it up. I certainly can't do it right now, after what just happened."

"Angel, I don't understand. What have you been fighting? Why did this happen? I thought you said you were okay with me, that we were, were 'safe as houses'. What happened? Please, just -" she broke off as Angel spun around and gripped her by the shoulders.

"Don't you get it?" he raged, shaking her, pushing his face close to hers. "I'm fighting you, this, us, all the time! It's a constant battle, every time I'm near you. And it's not just me I'm fighting, but the demon as well. He knows what will happen if you and I are together again, and he wants to be free. God, Buffy!" he exclaimed, resting his forehead against hers. "I can still taste you," he finished raggedly.

Buffy gasped at the images his words evoked, images that only moments before had been reality. Her eyes welled with tears as she finally grasped the full implication of his words. This was what he felt every time they were together? This clawing, raging need was boiling just under the surface every time he was in her presence? God, how could he stand it? She couldn't believe that he willingly put himself in this position time and time again. What if he lost control? What if...? "Oh, my God!" she whispered, stepping back from him quickly. Finally, Buffy understood what had happened. Somehow Angel's formidable control had snapped and they had come far too close to crossing the line that kept Angelus at bay. She crossed her arms over herself, suddenly chilled to the bone. Fear and pain rolled over her in waves.

"How long have you been doing this?" she asked him in a small voice.

"It feels like forever," he answered, giving her a sad smile. "When I first saw you, I fought it because you were so young, and I didn't want to pressure you. And I didn't know what would happen when..." his voice trailed off and his eyes flitted nervously around, unable to meet hers. He took a deep, unneeded breath and finally met her eyes as he continued. "I didn't know what I would become if I stopped fighting. After I became Angelus, I fought it because your were the Slayer." Buffy's eyes widened in shock at his admission that, even as Angelus, he had wanted her. "When I...came back, it was different. It was harder. There's more of him in me now than there was before. It used to be almost easy to forget that there was a demon inside me, trying to get out. I could go for days without being tempted by his urges. But now, it's...I don't know how to explain it. It's a constant battle. He knows he can be free, he knows what it takes to get rid of me, and he knows how hard it is for me to stay away from you. Buffy, I want you so badly that it's a constant ache. Not a second goes by that I'm not dreaming about being inside you, of sinking into your tight, wet -"

"Angel," Buffy gasped, her knees turning to water. "Stop." She held up a hand beseechingly, palm facing him, in an age-old gesture of surrender.

Angel deliberately mistook her gesture, pulling her toward him by her outstretched hand. Her eyes drifted closed as he put his mouth to her palm, sensually licking the tender flesh, trailing to the smooth skin of her wrist where her pulse hammered just below the surface. The sound of her lifeblood rushing so close to the surface was more than he could bear.

"Buffy," he grated, his voice guttural with the effort to keep from sinking his fangs into her. Buffy's eyes flew open at the tone of his voice and her heart lurched at the sight of him, deep into game face, hovering over the artery in her wrist. She looked fearfully into his eyes, unsure of what he was doing.

"Run!" he commanded her, hoping against hope that for once the Slayer would obey the Vampire.

With her heart in her eyes, Buffy jerked her wrist from his grasp and ran.

// i'm ever swiftly moving, trying to escape this desire.//

Buffy fled blindly, the tears streaming from her eyes preventing her from seeing where she was going. She clutched her coat tightly to her body, trying to shield herself from the pain crashing through her.

She stumbled to her knees and hunched there, sobbing, not bothering to try to rise. She couldn't believe what was happening to her. How could fate be so cruel? To give her back her Angel, but to not allow her to hold him, or to kiss him, or even to be with him. Was Angel even going to be able to be around her now? Was this going to get worse until they couldn't even be in the same room together anymore?

God, it was so unfair! Why did she have to suffer so much? She already had to deal with being the Slayer, and with being in love with a Vampire, and with sending him to hell, for God's sake! When would it be enough? What crime had she committed that she deserved such punishment?

The questions raged through her as she wept; giant, racking sobs that shook her small frame violently.

It was a long while before she found the strength to rise and make her way slowly home.

*****

Angel watched helplessly as Buffy fled from him. Flying into a rage, he grabbed the first thing that came to hand, hurling it against the wall in a vain attempt to expend his fury. The statue shattered into pieces, the furious sound a balm to his tortured emotions. Three more statues followed the first before Angel was able to get himself under control.

This made no sense! He had always been able to keep himself together when he was with Buffy. It had definitely been more of a struggle since his recent return from hell. That wasn't completely unexpected, since the demon had so recently been released and Angel was once again learning to live without feeding from a live human. The adjustment was understandably difficult. However, rather than the temptation lessening over time, it seemed to be increasing. But only with Buffy. He was feeding from blood banks, the same as before, and he wasn't struggling as hard with the demon's violent tendencies, but every time Buffy was near, he found himself spending most of his time fighting to keep his hands off her.

He was hyperaware of everything about her. Every time they were together, her scent overwhelmed him, especially when she had been fighting. He had been completely unable to even be in her presence during her monthly cycle. It hadn't been like this before and it seemed to be worsening at an alarming rate.

Angel dropped to the couch, his arms resting on his thighs, his head in his hands. He felt as if his insides were being ripped apart. He could accept being nothing more than a friend to Buffy for eternity. He could find a way to deal with a life led without ever again holding her in his arms, or loving her perfect body. As long as he could be a part of her life, in any way at all, he could be content. He had to figure out how to get this under control. He couldn't risk another scene like what had just happened.

Slowly, Angel raised his head and looked around the room. His senses were tingling, warning him that he was no longer alone. He quickly stood and prepared to face his unknown visitor. From the shadows, a familiar shape moved into view. Angel's tension dissolved, only to be replaced with dread. "Whistler," he said resignedly. "What brings you to our little corner of hell?"

"Hello Angel. Long time no see, old buddy. How's it going down here on the hellmouth?" Whistler asked, trying to smooth over what was sure to be a tension-filled visit.

"Don't you know?" Angel returned.

"Well, yeah, actually, I do." Whistler admitted. "Just trying to be polite."

"Why bother? You're obviously not here for a social visit, so why don't you just cut to the chase?"

"Angel, my man. It's unlike you to be so unfriendly. Bad day?" Whistler asked with a smirk.

"Whistler, you probably don't want to fuck with me right now. It really wouldn't be in your best interest to piss me off. Why don't you just deliver your bad news and get out?"

"Hey, relax. I can take a hint. There's no need for the hostility." He watched cautiously as Angel paced over to the fireplace and stared broodingly into the cold ashes there. "You're not going to like what I have to say."

"There's a surprise." Angel retorted.

"There's no easy way for me to say this, man, so I'll just come right out with it. There are great portents that show a change may be about to occur in the balance between good and evil. The Powers think that you may somehow be in the middle of this change. They have decided that the time has come for you to leave Sunnydale."

Angel's head snapped around and he glared hotly at Whistler. "What did you say?" he demanded.

"There is something at work, something no one has been able to foresee clearly. All that we know for certain is that you need to be away from here before it goes down."

"That's ridiculous. If something's about to go down, I need to be here, with Buffy. There's no way I'm leaving her here to fight it alone."

"That's not your decision anymore, Angel. You've got to be gone, and soon. The safety of the Slayer hinges on your leaving."

// the yearning to be near you, i do what i have to do.//

Angel felt the walls of his world slowly begin to crumble. This couldn't be happening. Whistler was wrong, dead wrong. Somehow he must have screwed up the message or something. There was no way he was going anywhere. Buffy needed him. He needed her. Case closed. He looked Whistler in the eye and calmly replied, "No."

"No?" Whistler mimicked incredulously. "No? I come in here and tell you what The Powers have decreed and you think you can say no? This is not up for discussion, Angel. You don't seem to get what I'm telling you. The balance is shifting. Somehow you're right in the middle of it. It's suddenly imperative that you get the hell away from Sunnydale, and a certain Slayer. You're a smart kid. You do the math."

Faster than Whistler could breathe, Angel crossed to him and yanked him up by the lapels of his tacky coat. "Why don't you add it up for me," he growled menacingly.

"Easy, man," Whistler said nervously. "Don't kill the messenger. All I know is that, for whatever reason, your soul is in danger of taking flight again. Understandably, The Powers don't want to see that happen. In light of the way it took off last time, They've decided that it's time for you to move on."

"That's crazy. My soul's not going anywhere. Buffy and I both know what our limitations are. We're not going to do anything that might jeopardize that."

"Is that right?" Whistler asked. "I guess that explains the little interlude I almost interrupted a couple hours ago, huh? Was that you and Buffy knowing your limitations, or would that have been the two of you not jeopardizing anything?"

Angel growled and pushed Whistler away from him before he did any real damage to the irritating little demon. "That was one incident. It won't happen again."

"Do you really believe that? You said yourself that it was different now. Don't you wonder why? I hate to be the one to state the obvious, but you've got a real problem here, Angel. I know you're finding it harder and harder to be around your little Slayer and not give into your baser needs. News flash for you, buddy. It's not going to get easier. This is just the beginning. Whatever factors are at work here have centered on you. Somehow you've become a pawn on the chessboard of life. You're just lucky that The Powers think you're important enough to save. But, to do it, you've got to get away from here."

"I can't!" Angel shouted. "I can't leave her! How could you even think that I'd go for this? I've wasted too much of my life already and I'm not ever going to do that again. Buffy needs me to be here, to help her fight whatever the Hellmouth throws at her next. As for what's going on between she and I, I'll deal with it. Whatever this is that's happening to me, I'll find a way to take care of it. I just have to be stronger, more focused. It's only because I've been a little off my game, recuperating from my little vacation. It'll get better, it's only a matter of time." Whistler wondered if Angel recognized the thread of desperation in his voice.

Angel continued his defense. "There's no reason for me to leave Sunnydale. No matter what else happens, I'd never do anything to hurt Buffy. Right now, that means being her friend. I can accept that. As long as I can be with her, I can accept anything. I won't leave, Whistler. That's final. So, you just let whoever needs to know that I'm here to stay. I'm strong. I can do this. For Buffy, I can do anything. I have to take care of her, Whistler, and to do that I have to be with her. Accept my decision. It's not going to change."

Angel strode from the room, intent only on getting himself together so that he could go out and find Buffy. He needed to find her, to talk to her, to reassure himself that everything was okay between them. He just had to be stronger. He knew he could do it. Once he committed himself to it, it would become easier, he was sure of it. Soon he would be able to be around her again without feeling this overwhelming urge to possess her, body and soul. Soon, things would return to normal and he could get on with the business of loving her from afar. He knew it would be painful, but the alternative - a life without Buffy - was unfathomable.

So lost was he in his contemplation that he never heard Whistler's warning float across the room. "It had better change, Angel, and soon. Otherwise, you'll be the one driving a stake through Buffy's heart." Whistler watched as Angel stormed from the mansion in search of Buffy. Settling comfortably on the couch, he resigned himself to a long night.

// and i have the sense to recognize that i don't know how to let you go.//

Angel entered the school library cautiously, unsure of his welcome. Since his return from hell, relations between him and the Slayerettes had been tense, especially in Giles' case. Angel didn't blame the humans, he simply regretted the necessity of their caution. He was tired and frustrated, and he'd looked everywhere for Buffy, but to no avail. The library was the last place he wanted to be as well as his last hope of finding Buffy tonight.

Giles was seated alone at the table that was usually filled with Buffy's friends. As Angel entered the room, Giles looked up from the book he was studying, visibly withdrawing as he recognized his visitor.

"Hello, Angel," the Watcher greeted him coolly. Angel had to give him credit for his courage when it was obvious that all he wanted to do was get away from the ensouled vampire.

"Giles," Angel greeted him. "I'm looking for Buffy. Have you seen her?"

"No, she hasn't been here all night. Is something wrong?" Giles questioned.

"No. There's nothing wrong. I just wanted to talk to her. I guess I'll..." He trailed off, leaving Giles to wonder at his odd behavior. "Could you give her a message for me?"

"Certainly," Giles replied.

"Ask her to meet me at the Bronze tomorrow night at seven. Tell her it's important."

"Are you certain everything is alright?"

"Yes, I'm certain. We just need to discuss a few things. You'll tell her?" he questioned uncertainly.

"Yes," Giles assured him. "I'll tell her."

*****

The following evening, Buffy walked into the Bronze, looking around for Angel. She was nervous, and a little bit wigged, that he had left a message with Giles. Giles was the last person who needed to know what was happening between she and Angel, and now he was convinced that something was going on. Angel couldn't have just picked up the phone and called her? No, he had to go and involve Giles. Like she didn't have enough to worry about after last night. It had taken all night for her to calm down and think through what had happened at the mansion rationally. Not to mention hours of verbal support from Willow. Finally, she'd come to the conclusion that something was up with Angel that he wasn't sharing. He definitely hadn't been acting like his normal self and his admission that he was different since his return had completely freaked her out.

For the first time since Angel's return from hell, Buffy was afraid of him. She'd thought that everything was okay. Well, as okay as things between them could be. They'd spent time together, worked out together, even shared a few innocent kisses. She'd thought that they were developing a relationship defined by their own unique terms. Then, suddenly, all hell breaks loose. She was so scared of what had happened between them. She wanted Angel so badly that it had become a constant ache. When they were together, nothing else seemed to matter. But they were bound by the restrictions of his cursed soul. And somehow, yesterday, those restrictions hadn't mattered at all. Buffy fully recognized that she had come to rely far too much on Angel's self control. If he wasn't able to control himself, would she be strong enough for both of them?

As if her thoughts had conjured him, Buffy suddenly felt Angel's presence in the room. A shiver danced down her spine, her nipples tightened in response and her core moistened with longing. No matter what happened, her body would always recognize its mate.

Angel knew Buffy was there the moment he stepped through the door. She had a presence, a vitality, that he could sense as surely as he could see her. He spotted her slight form on the edge of the dance floor, standing in the shadows. As soon as he saw her, he growled low in his chest, his body quickening with desire. She was magnificent, and she was his.

He quickly moved to stand behind her, one hand going possessively to her hip to pull her back against him. Twin sighs of pleasure blended as their bodies made contact. Angel nuzzled his face into the curve of her neck and Buffy's head dropped back onto his shoulder. Gently, Angel pushed Buffy forward, walking them further away from the curious eyes of the other patrons.

They moved into the shadows, facing a wall, Angel's back to the room. When they were as sheltered from the others as they could possibly be, Angel slid his other hand around Buffy, enfolding her gently into his embrace. "Hi," he whispered, gently nipping the delicate skin of her neck. "Are you alright?"

Buffy leaned into his body, both comforted and aroused by the possessive, protective way he held her. She crossed her arms over herself, returning his embrace. "I will be," she told him. "I'm scared."

"Don't be. Everything's going to be fine." His tongue darted out to lick the pulse pounding in her neck, suckling the flesh into his mouth. She gasped and ground her backside into his already straining erection. Angel growled at the torturous friction, feeling his fangs lengthen marginally.

Buffy felt it too, that telltale indication that things weren't as okay as he claimed. "Angel, what's going on?" she asked breathlessly, trying desperately to get him to talk to her.

"It's nothing. I can handle it." His hands trailed slowly up her body, stopping just shy of her breasts. Slowly, he cupped their weight in his palms, lightly running his thumbs across the oversensitized nipples. Buffy moaned and reached back to place her hands on his hips, pulling him more firmly against her.

Angel squeezed his eyes tightly shut at the painful pleasure brought on by Buffy's wriggling ass pressed tight against his cock. He needed a moment to garner his self-control. He had to do this, had to prove to himself, and to Buffy, and to The Powers that leaving was not the answer.

He felt that he was fighting a losing battle. It seemed the more he struggled to stay in control, the farther out of it he got. Of their own volition, his hands traced a path over the front of Buffy's body. His hands slid underneath the thin tank top she wore, finding her straining nipples without the barrier of clothing. His fingertips teased the hard little buds, eliciting a low moan from Buffy. Her hips began a seductive rhythm, pressing back against his cock in a manor designed to drive him slowly mad.

His hands continued their questing foray, lifting the hem of her tiny skirt and sliding deftly underneath the waistband of her panties. As his fingertip lightly grazed the sensitive nub between her thighs, Buffy bucked roughly against his hand. As she poured into his palm, Angel ground his teeth together, trying desperately to force himself to pull away from her.

He wasn't quite sure how things had escalated so quickly. He'd barely been in the Bronze for ten minutes and already he was in a dark corner with Buffy, feeling her up like a horny teenager. He'd come here with the best intentions, fresh from a dire warning from Whistler to stay away from Buffy, and yet he was still losing control. What was wrong with him?

"Buffy," he whispered in her ear, "we need to stop." Slowly he withdrew his fingers from her wetness, barely resisting the urge to lick them clean. Turning her gently around to face him, he gazed longingly into her dazed eyes.

"Angel?" she questioned. "What's happening to us?" She reached out and touched his cheek, slowly tracing the elegant slant of his cheekbone.

// a glowing ember burning hot, and burning slow.//

Angel grasped her small hand, pulling it away from his face, unable to withstand even that small contact. "Buffy, don't," he begged.

"Don't what?" she asked, confused. "Don't touch you? That's crazy. Angel, tell me what's happening! I'm sick of asking you that. Twenty-four hours ago, we almost made a horrible mistake. Now, when we should be calmer and more able to stay in control, we're trying to do it again. I don't understand why you suddenly can't even be around me without trying to throw me up against a wall and fuck me senseless. We've made out before and this didn't happen. We've always been able to stop. Tell me what's going on!" Buffy was quickly losing her temper.

"I don't know!" he told her. "I don't know what's going on." He pushed her roughly from him, slamming her back into the wall. Buffy gasped as his hands went to her shoulders, pinning her in place. "Since I came back, everything's been different. Especially the way I feel about you. I can't stop thinking about you; your hair, your eyes, the way you smell. God, I'm in a perpetual state of agony just hearing your voice. At first I thought it was just the change, since I'd so recently fed from humans. But, it hasn't gotten any better. If anything, it's gotten worse. Yesterday, I just snapped. I simply couldn't stop myself anymore. All I want, all I dream about, is being inside you."

Buffy looked up at him with huge eyes, unable to stop the words from pouring from her mouth. "It's all I dream about too," she admitted breathlessly.

Angel growled low in his throat, morphing slightly into his vamp face. Placing his hands against the wall on either side of her head, he leaned forward, sensually brushing her body with his own. Looking deeply into her eyes, he began to torment her with his words. "There are some nights, after you've gone home, when I lie awake and think of you. Your scent surrounds me, that earthy, powerful scent that tells me your body is ready for mine. Some nights I simply lie there and think of you. Others, I imagine that it's your hand stroking my cock, your beautiful mouth swallowing me whole. I remember what it was like to have you beneath me, open and wet, your clit begging for my mouth. I remember licking you, and stroking you, and making you come with nothing more than my lips and tongue.

Buffy whimpered, helpless against this verbal assault, as Angel ruthlessly continued to paint his word pictures. "I remember the way you felt when I slid into you. You were so tight, so hot, that I almost came right then. And when I pushed through your barrier and knew for certain that you had belonged to no one but me, it was almost more than I could stand."

Angel crushed his body to Buffy's, the stiffness of his arousal pressing relentlessly into her cleft. Buffy was trembling, shaking so violently she would have been unable to remain standing without his body to support hers. She parted her legs slightly, trying to get their bodies as close as possible. "I remember that night, that one incredible night, and dream about having you again. I want to taste every inch of you until you can do no more than moan in pleasure. I want to bury myself inside you until you scream my name. I don't want to go another night without you, Buffy." Angel accentuated his words with the rhythmic pressure of his hips against hers.

A maelstrom of emotion flowed over Angel as he realized the absolute truth of his words. He didn't want to go another night without the pleasure of Buffy's body melding with his. He didn't care anymore what the repercussions were. His soul be damned, he didn't want to suffer for another moment. He felt as if he couldn't exist for another second without claiming her for his own for all eternity. Unbidden, an image of Buffy as a vampire floated through his mind. He could see her clearly, her face contorted in the demonic visage, her fangs extended and ready to draw blood, her beauty preserved for all eternity.

As these images stormed through Angel's fogged mind, his already raging hard-on suddenly swelled to new proportions. Before any rational thought could penetrate, he grabbed Buffy by the arm, leading her out of the Bronze and into the relative seclusion of the alley. Pushing her back into the wall, he resumed the position they had just enjoyed a few moments earlier. One hand reached underneath her skirt to rip away her soaked panties. A finger pushed into her aching wetness and came away dripping with her juices. Angel lifted his finger to his lips, savoring the musky flavor of her desire. Buffy couldn't repress the moan that sprang to her lips as she watched his sensuous actions.

Angel was out of control. His mind had completely shut down, leaving him a slave to his passion. The demon inside had taken over, and had only one goal in mind: to possess Buffy immediately. He dropped to his knees before her, once again finding her moist heat, and began to stroke her ruthlessly. His fingers plunged in and out of her core, eliciting a moan of pleasure from Buffy. With his other hand, he reached up and spread her sensitive lips, opening her to his questing tongue. Deftly, he nipped at her swollen nub, sending her spiraling into orgasm.

"Angel!" Buffy screamed as she came.

Angel looked up into Buffy's flushed face and smirked wickedly. "Hello, lover," he drawled.

Buffy's entire body froze at those two simple words. Her eyes snapped open and she stared down into the demonic face of her lover. In terror she realized that it wasn't Angel kneeling before her now: it was Angelus. Buffy screamed as the harsh realization washed over her and she pushed him away from her with all her might.

Angel staggered back, crashing into the wall behind him. His head rapped sharply on the brick, stunning him momentarily. Without a second's hesitation, Buffy ran from the alley in a blind panic.

// deep within i'm shaken by the violence of existing for only you.//

Slowly Angel became aware of his surroundings. He was in the alley behind the Bronze, rock hard and aching for Buffy, and she had just run screaming from him. He wanted to follow her, to make sure that she was okay, but he was afraid of what she might do to him. Worse, what he might do to her. He had no idea what was happening to him and why for a moment, it had felt like Angelus was in control again. It felt as if somehow his soul had been forced down, away, and the demon had resurfaced.

He headed for the mansion, desperately needing to find Whistler. The little bastard was the only one who seemed to know what was going on, and Angel intended to find out immediately.

Just as he suspected, Whistler was awaiting his arrival at the mansion. Angel made short work of making the demon talk. Grabbing him by the throat, Angel shoved him against the wall and held him there, feet dangling off the floor.

"Talk!" he growled.

"Angel," Whistler began. "You are still Angel, right?" he asked nervously. Angel growled an affirmative.

"Why don't you explain why that's even in question," Angel demanded.

"I told you there was something going on and that you were in the middle of it. I warned you, man," Whistler forced out through his punished throat.

"You're not telling me everything. I've been steadily losing the ability to stay in control with Buffy, and tonight I wasn't even myself. I was Angelus! He was the one in control. I got a fucking hard-on fantasizing about turning her into a vampire. Now, tell me what the fuck is going on before I rip out your throat!"

Whistler knew he'd better spill it or he would be history. He wasn't looking forward to this confrontation, not one bit. "Angel, could you put me down? I'll, I'll tell you everything you want to know."

Angel dropped Whistler to the ground, and stepped away from him. Whistler reached up and rubbed his aching throat. "Quite a grip you've got there," he remarked. At Angel's glare, he swallowed painfully. "Okay, okay, just trying to relieve some tension. I guess you're not in the mood, huh?"

"Whistler," Angel began threateningly.

"Your soul wasn't restored exactly the same way," Whistler blurted, before Angel could make another grab for him.

"What?" Angel asked, taken aback by Whistler's words.

"The curse that the Slayer's friend used wasn't exactly the same as the original curse. The happy clause is still there, but there's something else as well. Somehow the slight difference in the curse is causing the demon to maintain some level of control, even though your soul remains intact. Whereas before the only power in control of your body was your soul, now the demon is fighting for the upper hand. And, unfortunately, he fights dirty. He knows that the only way to get rid of you is to get you and Buffy together, so he's doing everything he can think of to make that happen. That's why The Powers want you away from Sunnydale, away from Buffy. With the combination of your desire for Buffy and the demon's desire for freedom, you won't be able to control it forever. You've got to get out of here, Angel. Before you kill her."

Angel couldn't feel anything. His body was completely numb. The only part of him that was still functioning was his dead heart, shattering into a million pieces. This couldn't be possible. How could this be happening? If it weren't for the fact that it completely jived with everything he had been going through since his return, he would have dismissed it as ridiculous. Everything began to make a terrifying kind of sense.

Suddenly the events of the last twenty-four hours replayed in his mind. God, he'd come so close to giving in to Angelus' plan not once, but twice. Whistler was right. He was on the verge of losing control, and under no circumstances could he let that happen. Buffy was the only thing in his life that kept him going. If it wasn't for her, he'd still be eating rats in an alley, starving himself to death as a punishment for his crimes. She was the only reason he hadn't taken a walk into the sun by now.

In more than two centuries of living, she was the only being he'd known that made him want to be alive. She had loved him, and accepted him, even after finding out what a monster he was and what kind of things he' d done. Not once had she turned from him in disgust or hatred. Moreover, she'd given herself to him selflessly, body and soul. She loved him unconditionally, and made him want nothing more than to protect her, to keep her safe from all the horrifying things that they both knew existed.

She was his heart, his soul, his entire reason for existing, and he was terrifyingly close to bringing forth her most dangerous enemy: himself.

Turning to Whistler, Angel set the plan in motion to protect the only thing in his life worth loving.

// i know i can't be with you, i do what i have to do.//

Buffy walked slowly toward the park, not sure why Whistler had demanded that she meet him there. His presence in Sunnydale unnerved Buffy, considering the circumstances of their last meeting. The demon gave her a major wiggins, what with the bad news he usually had to bring, not to mention his cryptic wise-guy act. Add that to what had happened earlier in the evening with Angel, and Buffy was less than excited. She still wasn't sure exactly what had transpired between she and Angel. She wasn't even sure that he was still Angel. But, she hadn't been able to make herself go to the mansion and find out.

She slowly walked over to the merry-go-round and settled herself to wait for him. Barely a moment later, she felt a presence beside her. She looked over to see Angel standing beneath the shadow of a tree. She jumped up from her perch and backed away quickly from him.

"Buffy, it's okay," Angel said, holding his hands out submissively. "I asked Whistler to call you because I was afraid you wouldn't meet me after what happened."

"You were right," she replied, her voice shaky. "Stay away from me."

"Buffy, we have to talk."

"Oh, now you're Talking Guy? I've been trying to get you to tell me what's going on -"

"Buffy, I just found out," he interrupted. "Whistler told me."

"Oh," she said lamely. "Sorry." She remained a good distance away from him, unsure of whether or not she could trust him, whether or not he was still Angel.

Angel looked at her in the moonlight, drinking in the beauty that was Buffy. He wondered idly how he would go on, day after day, knowing that he might never see her or be with her again. He wondered how he would find the courage to walk away from her, knowing that he might never return.

Buffy began to grow nervous under his penetrating gaze. He was looking at her as if he was seeing her for the first time...or perhaps the last. "Angel, what is it?" she asked in alarm.

"Buffy," he began, but words failed him. How do you tell your one true love that you have to leave her? How do you admit that if you stay, you may kill her? Emotions clogged his throat, preventing him from speaking.

Concerned, Buffy slowly approached him. Angel backed up a step, shocking Buffy into stopping a few paces away from him.

"Stay back," he warned her. "You need to stay away from me."

Buffy's began to panic. "Angel, tell me what's going on. What's wrong with you? Please, I'm so scared."

"Buffy, it's bad. It's really bad."

"Whatever it is, we'll figure it out. We'll get Giles, and everyone else, and we'll figure out what to do. Please, you're scaring me."

"Buffy," he whispered, expressing a hundred different emotions with a single word. "I love you."

"I love you," Buffy responded emotionally. Tears were clogging her throat and she had no idea why. It wasn't like Angel to be this way, and she knew that whatever he was about to say was going to irrevocably change her world.

"Do you believe me?" he asked.

"What? Of course I believe you."

Angel sighed and looked down at the ground, unable to meet her eyes as he broke her heart. "I have to leave. I'm not sure how long I'll be gone, or if I'll ever be able to return."

Buffy sank to the ground, her knees simply refusing to bear her weight anymore. Her world was crumbling and she didn't know how to make it stop. "Why?" she whispered brokenly.

Angel started to go to her, to comfort her, but Whistler stepped from the shadows, silently reminding him that he was no longer allowed the joy of touching her. He looked down into her upturned face, ravaged by the grief he saw there. Her eyes were luminous with unshed tears. He answered her question as simply as possible. "To protect you."

He watched in anguish as confusion spread across her features. "To protect me?" she asked, bewildered. "That's what you do by being here. What can you protect me from if you leave?"

"From me," he told her plainly. "I can protect you from me."

Buffy's confusion grew. "Angel, I don't need protection from you. You're the last person who would ever hurt me."

"You're right, Buffy. I would never do anything to hurt you. But Angelus would. Whistler explained a few things tonight. The curse that Willow used to restore my soul somehow enabled the demon to maintain a measure of control. I'm not the only one in charge of my actions anymore. And, Angelus is trying everything he can think of to get rid of me. That's why I haven't been able to control myself around you. Angelus wants to be free, and he knows that the best way to do it is through you."

"God, this doesn't make sense!" Buffy raged. Her head was starting to pound as she tried to process what Angel was telling her. "You're saying that you're, what, both Angel and Angelus at the same time?" At his quiet "yes", she went numb. With dawning horror, she realized the full implication of his words. "Oh, my God!" she breathed. "At the Bronze, when you...he...what you said. That was Angelus, wasn't it? You were Angelus."

Angel averted his eyes, unable to meet her gaze, and nodded miserably. "Yes. I was Angelus. He almost got what he wanted. That's why I have to leave Buffy. Before anything like that happens again."

"No. No, you don't. We can figure this out." Buffy rose from the ground, energized at the prospect of resolving this problem and moving on. "We' ll get Giles, and Willow, and we'll find out what happened. We just need to research, to figure out what was different in the curse, and then we can...I don't know! Maybe we can curse you again, so that Angelus doesn't have any more power. We just need to -"

"Buffy, no," Angel interrupted her quietly. "It's too late."

At his soft words, Buffy deflated. "Why is it too late? Are you just going to accept this? Just give up on us? Aren't you even going to try?"

"I want to, you know that! But, it's out of my hands. It's not my choice anymore. Whistler was sent here to bring me back. Apparently, fate has a plan for me. Buffy, Whistler sees things, and he's telling me that if I don't get out of here, and soon, Angelus will return. I don't want to go. There's nowhere I want to be except with you. You're the only thing that makes my life worth living. There's nothing I wouldn't do to keep you safe. But if keeping you safe means leaving, then I'll leave."

"When?" Buffy whispered, dreading his answer.

"Tonight."

// and i have the sense to recognize...but, i don't know how to let you go.//

"No," she whispered. "It's too soon. I'm not ready to lose you yet." Her eyes welled with tears, one spilling over to slide unchecked down her cheek.

"Buffy," Angel said as he walked to her. Whistler be damned, it may very well be the last time he ever touched her. As he reached out and took her in his arms, he felt the now-familiar sensations begin to envelop him. His body began to come alive with awareness of her. Resolutely, he determined to maintain control long enough to tell her goodbye. She deserved, at the very least, that much from him. He felt her arms slide around his neck, returning his embrace. Her body began to shake, racked by the sobs she was desperately trying to withhold.

"Buffy," he began again. "I need you to make me a promise." Angel knew the words he was about to say would haunt him for the rest of his life, just as he knew they were absolutely necessary. He reached out and took Buffy's chin in his hand, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Promise me that you'll go on. Promise me that you'll find someone else, someone who can love you the way you deserve to be loved."

Buffy shook her head violently, desperately trying to escape his words. "No! I won't tell you that," she cried.

"I need to know that you won't stop living. Buffy, you're so young. You have so much life ahead of you. This is an opportunity for you to live your life, to fall in love again."

"Angel," Buffy said, tears coursing down her cheeks. "I'll never be able to love anyone but you. No one could ever take your place in my heart! Don't you see that? We were made for each other. This isn't the kind of love that fades. This is eternal."

Capitulating, Angel leaned his forehead against Buffy's, desperately fighting to hold back his emotion. "I don't want to leave you," he admitted painfully.

"Don't. Don't go," she pleaded.

"Buffy, I love you." Tenderly Angel cupped her face in his palms. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her lips, struggling to find the strength to walk away. He stepped back from her, putting a space between them that had nothing to do with physical distance. Slowly, and with great effort, Angel turned and walked away into the night.

// i don't know how to let you go.//

End

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