AUTHOR: Laure Alexander
EMAIL: lwilson@idir.net
RATING: NC17
SUMMARY: Three weeks after "Comparisons" and Alex Queirolo's wonderful "So Long So Wrong" Buffy's a wreck and Angel has to decide what to do about it. Does he want her to die? Spike helps him find an answer.
CONTENT: Language, graphic Buffy/Angelus sex.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Buffy and friends or Buffy the Vampire Slayer; they're owned by Joss Whedon and the WB Network. No copyright infringement intended so please don't sue. Borrowed the title from Reba; don't own it either.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:I highly recommend that you read Alex's story. The angst is so much better than mine. It really sets up Buffy's condition and mood for this story.
DEDICATION:For Teri. Happy Belated Birthday! I just couldn't write X/W, so I asked her what she wanted and this was it. And, of course, this could not have been written without encouragement from my muse, Niccy, who is now my high priestess as well. And, yes luv, you can wear a white dress like Dru's, if you want, though I was thinking nude...<BG>
Spike maneuvered his wheelchair into the walled garden, wondering for the hundredth time why Angel had moved them out of their nice, cozy, dark factory and into this monstrosity of a house with way too many windows for comfort.
He had spent the entire first night, painting the windows in his bedroom black. Well, he had overseen the job done by two minions--idiots made by Angel. Overseeing the job had turned out to be vitally important. He had made them redo the job three times. The minions just seemed to be getting more and more stupid.
Rolling forward, he stopped at the sound of footsteps coming from deeper in the garden. Angel strolled down a walkway, his leather pants only half fastened and his shirt hanging open.
The sound of a feminine giggle came from behind Angel and Spike scowled.
"Hey roller boy. Finally decided to get up...well, a part of you at least." Angel perched on the edge of a table and negligently scratched his chest. Spike could see fading claw marks.
"I saw the slayer last night."
That got Angel's attention. His eyes narrowed and the smile left his face. "And?"
"She didn't look very good, mate. Obviously not eating right, not keeping up on the grooming, hideous fashion sense. Watched her take three times as long to stake a fledgling as it should have. Her heart just wasn't in it."
"And this is my concern, why?" Angel asked coldly.
Spike's reply was spoken lightly, but he was deadly serious. "Looks to me like you're banging her into an early grave."
"She'll survive," the older male scoffed.
Leaning forward slightly, Spike's demeanor turned serious. "No, she won't. You've been fucking her for what? A few months? Ever since you returned?"
"Yeah, so what?" Angel blustered.
"I figure if you wanted her dead, you've had ample opportunity. Ditto with turning her."
"I don't want her dead," Angel growled softly. "What fun would that be? And, if she's turned, I don't get to see her suffer."
Sighing, Spike shook his head. "And just why do you want to see her suffer?"
"For making me love her. For making soul boy love her," he corrected hastily.
"Uh huh. Her fucking you brought you back. Personally, I'd give her a medal."
"What is this all about, Spike?" Angel demanded.
"I think she's near the point of no return, mate. Suicide."
Angel shook his head in denial. "She'd never..."
"Why not? What does she have to live for? To be awakened most nights by a demon who looks like the man she loves but fucks like he hates her? To be aroused by a familiar touch only to know it's done out of hatred and a desire to punish. She's only human, Angelus, with a human heart."
"I won't let her kill herself."
Spike laughed harshly. "And how are you going to stop her?"
"I'll bring her here and chain her to my bed," Angel replied with complete conviction.
"And you'll break her spirit. Tell me, Angelus, what draws you to her? Do you want her to become like Dru? A human Dru?"
Angel glared and rose to pace. "No," he finally barked out. "I like her spirit, her little attempts at rebellion, her witty little comments. They make life interesting." He stopped and stared down at Spike who regarded him calmly. "So, what's your suggestion, Spikey?"
"Somewhere buried deep inside you, regardless of what that idiot the judge said, is an ounce of humanity. Use it and show the poor girl some tenderness."
"Maybe she likes me hurting her."
"Maybe she likes waking up every morning with your cum leaking out between her bruised thighs and your hateful laughter ringing in her ears?"
Angel gave Spike a suspicious look. "Why all this sudden concern for the slayer? For months you've been telling me to kill her. Although, you haven't brought it up for a while."
"It would still be the most merciful. If I was her, I wouldn't want you for a lover, neither demonic or gentle."
Slapping Spike on the shoulder, Angel leaned down and lowered his voice. "You were her, Spike. Don't forget that."
Forcing down his instinctive growl, Spike pulled away from his sire. "Treat her nicely. Kiss her, compliment her, let her come first. You know, be half-way decent. It's what most girls want."
"You really think she might try to off herself?"
As he nodded, Spike grinned to himself. He had him...
*****
After a semi uneventful patrol--two vamps found, two vamps dusted--Willow sat on Buffy's bed, watching the slayer brush out her braids. There was a nasty bruise on the nape of her neck. Her sweat had eroded the makeup.
Willow watched her friend carefully. Buffy had seemed listless for several days, actually since nearly three weeks before when she had taken down the cross from her window and given Angel access to her body. Looking at Buffy's reflection in her mirror, Willow winced at the dark circles under her eyes, the pinched look around her lips. She seemed thinner, paler.
"Are you okay, Buffy?"
Turning on her vanity bench, Buffy gave her friend a tired smile. "I'm fine. A little tired. I...don't sleep very well."
"Was he here last night?"
Buffy flinched at the concern in Willow's voice and tried to lie. "Yes, but I'm fine. Really. No cause for alarm."
"Buffy put the cross back, please."
A look of calm covered the slayer's face and she rose to her feet. Willow saw the tremor run through her, but held her tongue. "I can't, Will. I promised."
"A promise to a demon shouldn't count for anything! Please, he's destroying you." Willow's voice died away and she swallowed hard.
Buffy tried to smile and quip. "I made a deal with the devil, Will. I'll be fine. I just...I just have to remember he's not Angel."
"This is so stupid," Willow yelled. "You made the deal hoping that he would fall in love with you again, but it's obviously not working. You come to school looking like you haven't slept a wink. I never see you eat anything. When was the last time you took a shower? Every day I find a new bruise on you. You never used to bruise. Does he hurt you that deeply? Or are you becoming more fragile?"
Buffy stared at her friend, not knowing how to respond to the pain and fear in Willow's voice. Slowly she walked over to the window and looked out into the night. Angel would come to her soon. He had been with her each night for the past week.
Been with...such a polite euphemism for fucking her into near unconsciousness. Her ribs still hurt from the previous night when he had pressed her knees to her chest until she could barely breathe.
Could Willow be right? The lingering injuries should have healed much quicker. And, when had been the last time she had eaten a complete meal?
Nibbling on her chapped bottom lip, Buffy took a deep breath and turned to face Willow.
"He's not Angel, Buffy," Willow said gently, sadly. "He's a monster. He wants you dead."
"He could have killed me any time. He could have turned me into a vampire any time. I fall asleep in his arms almost every night." Buffy took another deep breath and blinked away unbidden tears. "And every morning I'm surprised that I wake up."
"No one should have to live like that."
Suddenly Buffy sat down next to Willow and grabbed the other girl's shoulders. There was a wild look in her eyes and Willow tried to pull free, wincing as the slayer's fingers dug in. "Why can't he love me like Spike loves you? Why can't the demon Angel feel love? Why do you..." She broke off abruptly, a guilty look joining the mad one.
"You are angry that Spike loves me. I'm sorry that my relationship hurts you, Buffy, but I'm not sorry that he loves me. I can't be, not for anyone."
Buffy released her and stared down at her lap. "I thought...I thought that it would be okay. I could fuck him and let him give me physical pleasure and that would be enough. I could hold him and pretend...but he won't let me pretend. I always know it's Angelus. Only when I dream is it Angel and then I wake up and find the demon on top of me, inside me, fucking me like an animal...and I come...I can't help it. My body can't help it. He plays me like a violin. One touch, one look and I'm his. I'll suck his cock, I'll take it in the ass, I'll let him beat me and tie me up and fuck me for hours....And I love it. While my mind screams in horror, my body climaxes over and over."
"Oh, Buffy..." Tears were streaming down Willow's cheeks.
"I'm Drusilla."
"No..."
Buffy continued as if Willow hadn't spoken, her voice hollow. "I let him do this to me on the vain hope that it would change him. That he would become tender and gentle. That when he kissed me it wouldn't be to prove that I belong to him, but because he wanted me to feel pleasure. I hoped that, if he couldn't love me, at least he might be nice to me. All I've done is given him complete power over me."
"You're not Drusilla. You're not insane."
Buffy gave Willow a sad, little smile. "Maybe not quite...but almost."
"You have to kill him," Willow said with complete conviction. "It's the only way you'll be free."
The slayer shook her head sadly. "I can't kill him. I know I don't have that in me. I'm so afraid that even if he killed my mom, Giles...you...I still wouldn't be able to kill him." She snorted bitterly. "He's made me so pathetic. Giles might as well start looking for the next slayer."
Willow was horrified by the futility in Buffy's voice. "Don't say that. Don't ever say that. If you can't kill him...then we'll have to find the cure. We'll have to find the way to restore his soul."
Shaking her head, Buffy ran a trembling hand over her face. "I don't want Angel back."
"What?" Willow was clearly stunned.
Buffy sighed. "How could I ever face him? He'd remember everything I let the demon do to me. Every detail, every scream of pain and pleasure, ever perverted little thing I did to him and he did to me. What I had with Angel was pure. It was beautiful. Angelus taught me how to deep throat him. Angelus taught me to love his cock pounding in my ass. Angelus taught me to come while he beat me." She shook her head wildly. "No, Angel would never accept that...never accept the real me."
"Oh, Buffy, no. He loves you, the real Angel loves you and you can get past this. He'll understand."
"I don't want him to have to understand. I don't want him back. I couldn't bear it if he came back."
The clock downstairs began to chime ten o'clock and Buffy jumped from the bed. "He could be here any minute, Willow. You really don't want to be here."
Rising to her feet, Willow grabbed Buffy's hand. "Neither do you. You're mom's out of town, as usual. Come spend the night with me."
"I can't," Buffy replied dully.
"He can't get in my house."
"And tomorrow night? And the next? I gave him access to my body. Hiding at your place won't solve anything. It will only make him angry."
Finally, Willow gave in. She really didn't want to be there when Angel arrived and she couldn't physically remove Buffy from the house. If she couldn't convince Buffy, there was nothing more she could do at the present time. But, she could go find someone who might be able to help.
And, it had been ten days since he had graced her with his presence. If she got her ass whipped for seeking him out, tough. She needed to talk to him about Buffy and Angel and she needed him to hold her and tell her everything would be all right...and she needed him to fuck her within an inch of her life.
Sadly kissing Buffy goodbye, Willow left the house, got into her dad's sensible Ford and headed for the vampires' new home.
*****
Locking the door behind Willow, Buffy turned off the hall light and slowly made her way back up to her bedroom. She was tired, deep down tired. Her body was listless and her heart ached from the empty feeling that had been growing for months.
Still, she entered her room and began to remove her clothing, carefully folding each article of clothes and placing it in the hamper. Naked she stood before her full length mirror and looked at herself.
It took her a few minutes to see what Willow had seen. A trembling hand raised to her rib cage. The skin was pulled tight, the ribs bumpy beneath the surface. Her hand moved higher over the deceptive fullness of her breast to her prominent collar bone. Moving her hand towards the mirror, she saw that it was thin...too thin. The whiteness of the bones were almost visible through the translucent skin.
When had she last eaten more than a few nibbles at a meal? No wonder she didn't have any energy.
But, recognizing that a problem existed didn't automatically lead to a solution. Buffy wasn't hungry. She felt no hunger, had no appetite, had no desire to eat. In fact, the thought of food made her nauseous. Her nerves were already strung out as she waited for her nightly visitor. Putting food in her stomach would shove her over the edge.
Quickly she grabbed a long t-shirt from a chair and pulled it over her head, hiding her pale skin, her too thin body, her bruises. Clasping her hands together, she waited, her eyes nervously on the window, her mind wondering what he would make her do tonight.
*****
Angel slipped through the window and found Buffy waiting for him, wearing only a t-shirt. His critical eyes ran over her, noting that she was pale and trembling. Dark bags lay under her dull eyes, her hair was lank and somewhat greasy, and she was thin...too thin. Spike was right.
He was staring at her. Why was he staring at her? Worry rushed through Buffy and she opened her mouth, trying to think of something to say. All that came out was a tired sound and a feeble question. "Do you want me to undress you?"
Her voice was so dull it nearly sent a shiver through him. Angel's eyes narrowed and he realized it would be so easy to kill her, so easy to drive her to the point she would kill herself. He wondered if he wrapped his fingers around her throat...would she even fight him?
That wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want her dead. He wanted her fighting him, snapping at him, pissing him off and turning him on. This pale shadow wavering before him wasn't the Buffy he wanted...the Buffy he needed. He hated her for many reasons, but he admired and, yes, even liked her for many more, and he needed her like he needed blood to survive.
"No," he answered finally.
Buffy reached down and pulled the t-shirt over her head. "On my stomach? On my back? Just tell me."
Running his eyes over her slender body, Angel caught himself nearly wincing. The resignation that bowed her shoulders was not what he wanted. He knew he could snap her out of this dismal mood by making her angry, but that wouldn't be a lasting solution. When the anger faded, she'd return to this state.
No, he'd have to make her feel good, feel good about herself and about their relationship. Because, no matter that it was sick and perverted, this was a relationship and it would last until the day she died.
Walking over to stand in front of her, Angel sank to his knees and placed a gentle kiss on her stomach. Buffy gasped and shuddered. Sliding his hands around to her bottom, he caressed her gently, then cupped the cheeks. Nudging her legs apart, he began to run butterfly kisses over her stomach and thighs, growing closer and closer to the cleft between her legs.
"Don't you...don't you want me to do you first?" she choked out.
"No." Placing a kiss at the peak of her nether curls, Angel began to run his tongue along the outer labia, then back up the inner, tasting the soft, warm flesh. Buffy moaned and her hands found his shoulders, clutching him tightly.
He continued to be gentle, touching her lightly with his tongue and lips, sucking on the slowly swelling flesh, lapping at the oozing moisture. Finally, he rolled his tongue up and circled her clit. Hearing her sigh of pleasure, Angel sucked, tenderly, always tenderly. Her fingers tightened on his shoulders and she swayed against his hands.
"Oh, please," she begged softly, her pelvis grinding against his mouth.
Not wanting to torture her, he licked her clit with fast strokes as her moans grew louder. Suddenly, she stilled then exploded in pleasure, moaning and whimpering as her juices flowed over his mouth and chin.
Rising to his feet, Angel scooped Buffy into his arms before she could collapse. She lay limp, breathing hard from her orgasm. Carrying her into the bathroom, he set her on the vanity bench and turned on the water for the bath.
At the sound of running water, Buffy opened her eyes and saw Angel kneeling next to the tub, pouring a dollop of apple bubble bath into the water. "Do you want me to bathe you?" she asked hesitantly.
Looking up at her, Angel recapped the bottle and set it aside. "No. I'm going to bathe you."
She was clearly stunned by his announcement. "Why?"
"Tonight's for you, Buffy. For your pleasure."
A shiver of fear ran through her. Why was he being nice to her? "Why? Why give me pleasure? Is this some part of a sick scheme to put me off guard?"
Angel accepted her suspicion, knowing he'd done nothing to make her think otherwise. "No, but I understand why you don't believe me. You will in time."
"You don't have to be nice to me," Buffy said in a small voice. "That wasn't part of our deal."
"Our deal was for you to give me access to your body and let me do whatever I want with it. Right now, I want to bathe it." Turning off the water, Angel took her hand and tugged her to her feet, guiding her to the tub.
Still wary, Buffy sank into the bubble filled hot water and sighed in pleasure. It felt so good. Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the inflatable pillow her mother had suctioned to the far end.
Watching her relax, Angel pulled his shirt over his head, then picked up a soft sponge. Dipping it in the bubbles, he picked up one of her hands and gently ran the sponge over her skin.
Buffy opened her eyes and watched as he carefully bathed each limb, then ran the sponge over her stomach and up to her breasts. Her breath caught in her throat as he massaged her tender nipples, then slid the sponge under each arm and down her sides.
"Lean forward," he said in a husky voice.
Obeying him, Buffy whimpered as he washed the sore spot on the nape of her neck, then trailed the sponge down her back. Guiding her back against the pillow, Angel returned his attention to her breasts, smiling as one nipple poked through the bubbles.
As she moaned again, he asked lightly, "Does that feel good?"
"Yes." She quickly bit off anything further she might have said, still not trusting him.
"I've always loved your breasts," Angel murmured as he continued to tease them with the sponge. Buffy squirmed, making the water roll and he smiled. Sliding the sponge down lower, he slipped it between her parted legs, gently rubbing.
As the pleasure built in her again, Buffy leaned back and spread her legs wider. She didn't know why he was doing this or what he might be up to, but his touches felt so good. Whimpering, she arched against his hand and felt his fingers dance across her swollen clit. The sponge was gone.
Delicately pinching her clit, Angel watched the emotions play across her flushed face. Her nostrils flared and her mouth fell open as she panted. Her hips rose against his fingers and she wrapped one hand tightly around the edge of the tub.
"Come for me, baby," he chanted as he rubbed harder, feeling her soft flesh twitch against his sensitive fingers.
"Oh," she moaned, "Angel...yes...please...oh..." Yelling his name, she came again, thrusting hard against his hand, splashing water over the side of the tub. Slowing his fingers, Angel smiled as she began to relax. At the moment of orgasm, she was the angel, so beautiful he never wanted to stop touching her.
Buffy slumped, breathing hard, her whole body trembling, her mind awhirl in confusion. Vaguely she was aware of Angel pouring warm water over her head as he washed her hair, but she lay limp and quiet, letting him do whatever he wanted.
As the water began to cool, Angel hit the drain switch, then scooped his wet lover into his arms, wrapping her in a huge towel. Carrying her back into her bedroom, he lay her on the bed, then closed the door and pulled the curtains shut. Digging into her desk he found the clothespins they had used during their bondage games and clipped the edges of the curtains together.
Opening her eyes, Buffy watched him move comfortably around her room. She was unable to look away from him. He was so beautiful.
Sitting on her desk chair, Angel bent and pulled his boots off, setting them neatly aside, then looked up to find her watching him. He flashed her a wicked smile, then sidled over to the bed. Sitting next to her, he slowly pulled the towel open, revealing her damp, glistening body.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured before dipping his head and running his tongue over one of her nipples. Propping himself on one hand, Angel lay next to her trembling body, gently caressing her with his free hand. As he cupped one of her breasts, massaging the nipple with his calloused thumb, Buffy whimpered in pleasure.
Opening her eyes, Buffy gave him a wary look, then relaxed under his touch, letting him caress her, slowing building her desire. Hesitantly she reached out and placed her hand on his hip. Angel took it and carried it to his lips.
As he sucked one finger after the other into his mouth, she whispered in confusion, "Don't you want me to touch you?"
"Very much," he replied in a deep, soft voice. "But, my pleasure can wait."
Buffy look turned to one of disbelief. "I don't believe you, you know. This is all a sick game. It has to be."
Angel placed a kiss on her palm. "You'll see. I know you don't believe me. Why should you?"
"But, but, why? I thought you wanted me to be your... slave...to do anything you wanted."
"I do...but I want you to enjoy it."
"So, I can suffer more," she replied dully.
Angel stroked her wrist patiently. "No, so you can enjoy it. There's no ulterior motive here. I'm tired of watching you waste away. I want the vibrant Buffy back."
Giving him a puzzled look, Buffy tried to find a hidden meaning in his words. Angel never spoke the full truth. "All you've wanted to do is hurt me, punish me, and you've used sex to do it. Why the change of pace?"
"Maybe I'm tired of punishing you. You freed me, after all. Maybe you deserve a reward for that. In the end, I feel the same pleasure whether you feel agony or delight." He shrugged his shoulders.
Buffy stumbled over her tongue as she spoke what she had come to believe. "I thought you wanted me broken."
"Maybe a part of me does, but I have one Drusilla. I don't need another. I want you to whine and bitch and fuck me like there's no tomorrow. If I break you, you'll never do that again."
Nodding in growing understanding, Buffy nibbled on her lower lip and looked up at him as he caressed one of her hips, tracing circles on her flushed skin. "And I'm nearly there, aren't I? I'm nearly broken...and you just realized it."
Frowning, Angel nodded slowly. "We made a deal, Buffy. YOU made a deal with a demon. I'm not soul boy. I never will be again. But, that doesn't mean I have to be a monster. I've been a bastard to you; I admit it. I knew you hated the way I made your body react and I continued to play with you. Now, it's time to stop playing games. In making our deal, we made a commitment to each other. If you want to love Angel for the rest of your life, there's nothing I can do about it. I'm not Angel. But, that doesn't mean I'm devoid of all human emotion or the capability of expressing them."
"What are you saying?" she whispered.
"Hell if I know," he said with a snort. "I think I'm trying to say that we're bound together. It's not love that binds us, but passion is a strong force. I've been fighting that, fighting the passion I feel for you, because you're the slayer, because you're my eternal enemy, because you made this body love you. I don't want to fight anymore, at least not fight for those reasons."
"I don't believe you," Buffy whimpered, a tear leaking out of one of her eyes.
"I know. But...you will." Angel's voice rang with total conviction. "It's time we both accept that we want, no, that we need the other. If, right now, that need is mostly sexual, I can deal with it. Can you?"
Buffy thought about it for a moment, his words running through her mind. Even though she desperately didn't want to believe him, she didn't hear any falseness in his words or his voice. She still was convinced that she would awaken in the morning with him pounding her into the mattress... but, there was nothing she could do about that.
"I don't have a choice, do I?" Her voice was empty and Angel nearly winced, then silently maligned himself for caring about the tone of her voice. He didn't want her dead, but he didn't care about her. He didn't.
Angel changed tacks. "You're all tense. Roll onto your stomach and I'll give you a massage."
Hesitantly, Buffy obeyed, pillowing her head on her arms. Angel reached into her nightstand and drew out a bottle of cinnamon scented massage oil. Pouring some on his hands, he straddled Buffy's thighs, then leaned forward and began to rub her shoulder blades.
He was an expert at massage, knowing just where the kinks were and how to work them out. The scent of cinnamon filled the room, mingling with the apple from the bubble bath. Buffy began to relax and sighed softly, her eyes falling shut as his hands moved from her shoulders, down to her bottom, caressing and kneading.
When she was limp as a noodle, Angel turned her onto her back, still straddling her thighs. Smiling at the look of sleepy pleasure on her face, he slid his oily fingers between her legs and found her engorged clit.
"You liked that," he murmured.
Buffy reddened and stared blankly past him. As Angel circled his fingers over her clit, a shallow cry broke from her lips and she found her hips rising with his movements.
"I love watching you come."
His fingers rubbed faster and he delighted at the sight of her breasts rising and falling as she began to pant. Buffy's hips bounced on the bed and she dug her fingers into the quilt beneath her, pulling hard.
"Come baby, you can do it."
Buffy thrashed her head and twisted, her lust out of control. "Angel," she whimpered in a strangled voice. "I...I don't know if I can."
"Yes you can, baby." As he spoke, Angel slid his other hand beneath her bouncing hips and wormed one finger into her anus. Pressing his thumb hard against her clit, he thrust another finger in with the first.
Screaming in ecstasy, Buffy came, shuddering and bucking against Angel's hands. Sobbing breathlessly, she collapsed on the bed, dazed.
Withdrawing his hands, Angel leaned forward and brushed her lips with his. "That's it."
Rising to his feet, he turned off the bedside lamp, then peeled off his leather pants. For the first time he acknowledged the erection he had since climbing in her window. A throb of lustful pain went through him and he sighed.
As he sat on the edge of the bed, he felt Buffy touch his back. "Can you do it now so I can go to sleep?"
He was thrilled by the hint of exasperation in her voice and smiled into the darkness. "Go to sleep, Buffy," he directed gently as he pulled several tissues from the box on the nightstand.
"But...I don't understand..." Her voice died away and he heard her lay back down.
"I told you tonight was for you. I can take care of this."
"I don't mind," she replied in a stunned near whisper.
As his hand encircled his straining cock, Angel smiled. "Yes you do...but you won't for long." Groaning in pleasure, he began to pump his cock.
Shocked and a little frightened by this seeming new turn in their bizarre relationship, Buffy listened to every groan and grunt, realizing what he was doing. The sounds coming from him, the knowledge that he was bringing himself off, amazed her.
Tossing the damp towel aside and climbing under the blankets, Buffy wrapped her arms around her waist, hugging herself, her eyes wide open and staring into the darkness.
A deep growl came from Angel, then a few moments later, he slid under the blankets next to her. Buffy closed her eyes and reached for his hand, twining her fingers with his. She didn't know why she did it...but she needed to touch him.
The cynical side of Buffy believed he was playing new games with her. The resigned side believed he did want another Drusilla.
But a tiny bit of her persisted in believing that something special was happening.
For the first time in several months a spark of hope was lit in the deepest well of her soul.
It wasn't love that bound them together...But, passion was a good place to start.
End for now
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