|
After Effects
I borrowed three lines from the
A:TS episode "Eternity", they're denoted with *. "Xand," Willow asked nervously into the phone, "have you seen Buffy lately?" "Buff? No. Why? Is something wrong?" "No. I mean, I don't know. She's been gone since last night and Giles and I haven't heard from her. It's really not like her to be gone that long without checking in. You know she calls him after patrol." "Have you asked her mom?" "No. I don't want to worry her, or get Buffy in trouble," Willow said sighing in concern. "Don't worry, Will. She's fine. She's probably just hanging out with Riley." Xander assured. "You're probably right." ***** "Agent Finn," Walsh said, coming to stand beside him, "having second thoughts?" "No, Ma'am," Riley answered quickly. He'd committed himself to his part in this whole mess, and he would follow orders from his superior. But he had never been ordered to like it. "We should be ready to administer the second set of drugs in an hour or two. Are you ready, soldier?" "Yes," he answered curtly. Ready? What did that mean? He wasn't going to need Viagra if that's what she was wondering. He didn't like the idea of having sex with someone who was not in their right state of mind, but he was incredibly physically attracted to the tiny blonde sprawled before him. He'd be able to perform regardless of any moral issues he possessed. They'd been dating for months. She was his mission, and not a bad one as far as missions went. He was supposed to sleep with the Slayer, get her pregnant. Unfortunately, for her as it turned out, she'd nixed all of his attempts to take their relationship to a more physical level. As a result, his commanding officers had lost all patience and resorted to this. The idea was that she would be so drugged out of her mind she wouldn't remember any of it. He prayed they were right, for both his sake and hers. ***** She'd been attacked by Initiative soldiers, she remembered that much. She assumed she was being held somewhere in their underground complex. It would explain why she could sense so many vamps. Buffy had been privy to quite a few of the Initiative's secrets given that she was dating one of their officers, but she couldn't figure out why in the world they would have kidnapped a human civilian. She and Riley were on shaky ground, true, especially after Giles had slipped up and mentioned something in front of her about Angel's soul being permanent. The Slayer’s lips tightened in remembered pain and annoyance. It seemed Angel didn't value her enough to tell her that little bit of info himself. She heard the glass door to the holding cell open, but didn't move. That turned out to be a mistake, because she was quickly straddled and held down by four rather imposing men as something was injected into her neck. She heard one of them mutter something about the “Slayer" as he gripped her tightly. That in itself was alarming considering she'd never divulged the details of her secret life to Riley. Whatever they had injected her with burned. Focusing all her senses on the men above her, Buffy searched for any weakness, any possibility of escape. When she felt one of the soldiers loosen his vice-like grip, she bucked quickly, knocking one off. A couple punches and a kick and she was out the door, running blindly for an exit, stolen passkey clutched tightly in her hand. ***** **** It was impossible. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she felt like she was crawling out of her skin. She couldn't concentrate on anything for more than a few seconds. She just knew she had to run, where to she didn't know, but somewhere. Slipping the keys into the ignition, Buffy started the SUV and sped off. ***** "The boys lost her on the quad, and our intelligence indicates that the Slayer is no longer in Sunnydale," Riley said, wincing at the furious glare he received. "Where would she have gone? In her drugged state she should be looking for the nearest available male," Walsh said, baffled. ****** Buffy wasn't looking for the nearest available male. She was tracking her mate, which was why she was barreling down the freeway to Los Angeles drugged half out of her mind in search of the vampire who had abandoned her. ****** The lights inside Angel Investigations went dark. "He's cut the power ... where's the box?" Wesley asked.* "Side of the building," Cordelia replied. * Cordelia sent a withering look toward the actress crouching in the corner. "If we don't make it out of here alive, I'm going to *kill* you!" she spat. "What the fuck were you thinking making him happy? Angel plus happy equals *bad*!" "I don't understand," Wesley said, ignoring Cordelia's comment. "There is no loophole in Angel's curse anymore. How is Angelus surfacing?" Cordelia stared at the Englishman in the dim light. Reaching over she smacked him on the forehead. "Angelus is still there, Wes! He may be bound, but he's part of Angel. This drug obviously let him out to play. It had better wear off." Wesley sighed dramatically. "Let's just pray it does so quickly." ***** Buffy pounded down the street as fast as she could, each step jolting her body, inflaming her already sensitive tissues. She was so hot. She need Angel, needed his ice-cold body to cool her down. She needed him to fuck her until she screamed in agonized release. Maybe then the fire in her blood would be banked. Maybe. She'd ditched the SUV several blocks ago and taken off on foot. She could feel his presence, like a growing ache in the marrow of her bones. He was close. She scented the air again, tracking him easily. She would be able to find him if she was blind. Quickly turning a corner, Buffy headed down a darkened alley. She couldn't really see, but she didn't need to, she could feel him, throbbing, screaming in her veins, in her bones. **** Angelus never heard the Slayer coming. He was taken completely by surprise when the force of her body ramming into his knocked him unceremoniously to the ground, landing him on his back. Normally, he would have been more than a little disturbed by the fact that he hadn't even felt her coming. Now, however, was different. She was on top of him, pinning his arms to the ground, her tiny, hot mouth clamped around his jugular in a show of vampiric dominance as she straddled his sprawled form and rubbed herself against him. Angelus was too shocked to move. Everything in his body screamed Slayer. His instincts told him to throw her off and run for his unlife, but he didn't move. The pressure of her blunt teeth on his neck held him effectively in place. The only creature ever to pin him like this was his Sire, and that had been more than a century ago. It was the possessive hold of one mate to another, one so visceral, he could not ignore. He knew Buffy had done it on several occasions to Angel, but the simpering soul had always discouraged her from showing any sort of vampiric behavior. Angelus wasn't about to discourage her from doing anything. His eyes were about to roll back in his head from the sheer carnal pleasure of the act. He thrust his hips up against hers uncontrollably, seeking, needing the pressure and the friction. She smelled incredible, hot and extremely aroused. She was rubbing her dripping cunt against his instantly hard cock. He could feel her moisture seeping through both of their clothing. She began to whine around the bite, and Angelus found himself stiffening further in reply. She was the Slayer. He was a demon. Angelus didn't know if she had any idea it was him and not Angel. He doubted that in her current, obviously mindless, state that she would care at all who was about to fuck her, because she was indeed about to get fucked. "Buffy," he growled through clenched teeth. She whimpered, releasing her bite on his neck and sitting up. Letting go of his pinned arms, she scooted down his body so she was straddling his thighs and moved her hands down to the fly of his black slacks. She fumbled impatiently with his belt for several long moments before managing to unbuckle the confining leather. Slapping her hands out of the way, Angelus dealt with the zipper himself. He had his cock free in seconds, and then went to work on the soft cotton pants she wore. He didn't bother trying to take them off of her, he just pulled the fabric covering her cunt until it gave, the material rending loudly in the pronounced silence of the alley. When her sex was exposed, Angelus flipped them, rolling her body under his as he buried himself to the root in her warmth. She keened, rolling her head to the side and exposing her neck for him. What the fuck was going on? The Slayer practically raped him in a dark alley and then offered her blood to him. Never mind if she thought he was Angel or not, the idea that she would do that for any vampire was mind boggling. Angelus pumped forcefully into her hot body and she was coming in waves at the first few thrusts, scratching deep gashes through his shirt and into the flesh of his back. Her body was unbelievably aroused and she was whimpering, tears leaking out of her eyes from the force of her multiple releases. He couldn't hold on much longer, not with the erotic picture she presented. Bending his head, he bit deeply into her neck and roared as his cold cum coated the scalding hot walls of her passage. Angelus must have passed out for a few moments. When the world solidified again, he was laying on top of the Slayer, his now limp cock still inside her hot little body. She was awake and alert, but not doing anything to encourage him to move from his spot. Her breathing and heart rate had slowed a bit, but were still far above normal. She was simply holding his body to hers, practically purring in satisfaction as she nuzzled against his neck. The vampire levered his upper body off his lover, bracing his weight on his hands which were planted on either side of her head. He stared at her. She looked back up at him docilely, a small smile playing on her lips. She sighed with self satisfaction, and then turned her head to kiss the inside of one of his wrists. There was something wrong with the Slayer, Angelus could taste it in the blood he'd stolen from her. Maybe someone had slipped her one of those date rape drugs or something. Lucky for the poor bastard that she came looking for her true mate rather than grabbing the jackass that dosed her. The force of their coupling would have killed a human. Even now, Angelus could feel the wounds on his back just beginning to heal, and that was probably only due to the infusion of her powerful blood. Angelus licked his lips again. Yes, there was definitely something in her blood. He hadn't taken very much of it, and it was already making him feel funny ... hot, aroused. Just when he was trying to decide if it was the drugs or the hot little body underneath him that had him so stimulated, the Slayer wrapped her legs around his waist. Flexing her muscles, she brought their pelvises together again. Angelus growled, looking down at his mate. She met his gaze unafraid, grabbing the collar of the shirt he still wore and pulled his head down to hers. "Mine," she whispered against his lips before catching them in a searing kiss. It was the first word she'd spoken since jumping him and he didn't feel inclined to debate the veracity of her statement. Cluing her in right now that he wasn't her beloved Angel probably wouldn't be the wisest idea. He decided to play it safe for a while. He met her kiss with equal ardor, thrusting his once again hard cock into her softness. She whined, arching against him for friction. Angelus propped himself up on his arms again as he thrust in and out of her body. Gods she was magnificent. Where had the whiney little bitch that Angel was so in love with gone? He didn't know but he sure as hell hoped she stayed away for a long time. The creature writhing beneath him was in no uncertain terms *his* mate. A creature his equal in every way, unhindered by thoughts of morality, decorum or duty. Lowering himself over her body again, he bit deeply into her neck, nursing roughly. Beneath him, Buffy's mouth opened in a silent scream of ecstasy as she came from his bite, the intense pleasure of being claimed by her mate tipping her over the edge. This was what she had wanted, this was what no other male on the planet could give her. This sense of absolute completion and synchronicity. They were each other's only equals. Angelus rocked deeper into her body for several thrusts before reaching climax. The infusion of her blood, laced with the powerful aphrodisiac was too much for him to resist any longer. As he regained a bit of clarity, he removed his fangs from her neck, but continued to gently lick the wounds. "Mine," he whispered against her soft flesh. Beneath him, she smiled. Angelus considered his options. He had been planning on going back in the office and killing his employees and that insipid actress, but he wasn't about to leave his bitch to do it. He didn't have any idea how long the drug Rebecca had slipped him would last. He was sure Angel would be back in control once it wore off and he wasn't about to waste one second of his time with Buffy. He pulled out of her body and rose to his feet, refastening his pants. Just as Buffy began to whimper, he scooped her up in his arms and strode down the alley looking for somewhere to spend the rest of the night. ****** "You're *sure* he's not out here," Cordelia said in a yelled whisper at Wesley, tightly clutching both a stake and a cross to her chest as her head whipped around frantically. "Yes, Cordelia," Wesley replied in his normal, speaking voice as he fumbled with the breaker box on the side of the building. "I'm sure he's not out here." The conversation was momentarily halted as the lights snapped back to life. "But how can you be sure?" "Because," Wesley stated, brushing off his hands, "we're all still alive." "Well, you do have a point there," she conceded, her frightened stance quickly replaced by a thoroughly annoyed one. "Where do you think he went then?" "I have no idea," the former Watcher said as he walked back in the building, Cordelia following closely behind. Faith and Spike walked in moments later, mutually groping each other as they stumbled through the doorway. As they became aware of Wesley and Cordelia staring at them, they stopped and glanced around. Surveying the collateral damage and the blood spattered actress cowering in the corner, Faith asked, "Up to new tricks, Wes?" ***** He pulled her to his chest, trying to fend off her latest assault for a few moments while he regained a bit of composure. The Slayer wasn't having any of it. Releasing a frustrated growl, she wiggled out of his embrace, and moved down his body. She wrapped her mouth around his semi hard cock, sucking and caressing him back to full tumescence. She then straddled him, dropping her well pleasured body onto his erection yet again. Angelus moaned. She was so fucking hot and tight. The little bitch had been completely faithful to her one true love and he was thrilled by it. No other male had dared touch her, she hadn't allowed it. She knew who she belonged to even if his weakling "better" half was unwilling to claim her. ****** To his surprise, the bump in the tarp next to him let out a little snore. He sat bolt upright. He was naked in some warehouse, which if memory served correctly was just down the street from his apartment, with a sleeping *something* next to him. He could feel the heat coming off of it, so it was alive whatever it was. Angel shook his head trying to remember the night before. He remembered Rebecca coming over, but it all got really fuzzy after that. Had he slept with Rebecca? And if so why couldn't he remember it and why were they in a warehouse? Gently, he pulled back the tarp covering his partner. Hair. Blonde hair. Rebecca wasn't blonde. He pealed it back farther. Buffy! She blinked, glaring at him and proceeded to yank the tarp back over her head in an attempt to block the intrusive light. "Buffy?" he squeaked, shocked. She winced, removing the tarp to glare at him again. One eye was closed like she was suffering from a horrible headache. "Who *exactly* were you expecting Angel?" she hissed at him, then laid her head back down, closing her eyes. He took a deep breath, clearing his mind, and then concentrated on retracing the events of the previous evening. Rebecca came over, she put something in his drink ... something that would simulate bliss. Oh gods. Angelus. Somehow Angelus had taken over. He'd threatened Rebecca, thrown blood in her face, chased her upstairs. He'd attacked her, Wesley and Cordelia. He'd gone outside and thrown the power, fully intending to go back inside and slaughter everyone when Buffy had jumped him in the alley. He looked at the grouchy bundle next to him. Someone must have drugged her, that was the only explanation. Even when their relationship was at its most stable and intimate, Buffy would never have been that forward with him. An aphrodisiac. It would explain her actions, but it didn't explain why Angelus had chosen to spend the evening fucking the Slayer rather than draining her. Angel searched inside himself and was unable to deny the truth, however repulsive he found it. The demon wanted her, not just as a possession, but as a mate. He was willing to share her with Angel simply because he had no choice, but he would kill if necessary ... and probably happily ... to keep her away from anyone else. Buffy probably didn't even know she had spent the night with Angelus and not him. In her current, pissy state, he wasn't sure he wanted to tell her. But she needed to know. "Buffy," he ventured quietly. She didn't open her eyes to look at him. "I *hurt* Angel. *Everywhere*. Please just let me sleep." Talking wasn't helping, so why not try a different approach? "Everywhere?" he purred in her ear, pulling her back against his chest as he rubbed his stiff cock against her dripping folds. Moaning, she lifted her leg up and back over his hip in silent entreaty, ceding him power to do whatever he wished. He knew he shouldn't. He knew that there was so much they needed to discuss and sort out, but he could not ignore his body's absolute hunger for it's mate. With a gentle thrust he buried himself in her body. And, okay ... so maybe he didn’t want Angelus to have all the fun. She was *his* girlfriend or, um, rather, ex-girlfriend. He wasn't sure exactly what she was at the moment, but given that he was buried inside her, he really didn't care. ***** "Buffy," he whispered softly, hoping her nap would have resulted in a better mood. "Hrmph," came the little grunt. "Buffy," he said more forcefully. She came fully awake, yawning and stretching, pulling the tarp down so her upper body was free. Propping herself up on one elbow, she looked at Angel, blinking. "Huh?" she asked sleepily. Angel just stared at his mate. She looked like hell. Her hair was one huge rat's nest, sticking up everywhere. Her neck was black and blue with huge hickeys and puncture marks. She also seemed to be unaware that one of her breasts was completely bare where the tarp had ridden down. She looked marvelous. Angel couldn't stop himself from unconsciously licking his lips as his gaze roamed over her naked breast. Buffy followed Angel's hungry gaze down her body. Everything seemed to click at once. Buffy naked. Angel naked. They were wrapped in some dirty piece of heavy material and she felt heat beginning to pool between her legs again. AGAIN? "Oh gods," she screeched, diving beneath the covers. Angel's brow furrowed. "Buffy?" he said, trying to pry back the tarp. "Go away!" Buffy shouted, afraid she was going to spontaneously combust from embarrassment. Angel attempted several futile campaigns to get the Slayer to come out. She wasn't budging. He decided to go in after her. "Love," he said, after he'd wrapped his naked body around her equally stitch-less form. "What?" she hissed, still horribly embarrassed. But as he pressed against her, she involuntarily arched back against him. Angel could tell she was blushing even in the dark. He could feel the extra heat pouring off of her body. He tried not to smile. This confirmed his suspicions. She hadn't been in her right mind, but judging from her response, she definitely remembered the previous night, and morning. "You want to tell me what happened?" he gently coaxed. She made a little strangled sound. "You were there," she spat. "Why should I have to tell you?" He cringed. Time to come clean. "I wasn't," he admitted, "not exactly." She stopped breathing for several seconds. "*Yes* you were!" "No I wasn't," he calmly reiterated. Under the tarp, she twisted so they were face to face. "What do you mean you weren't there, Angel? You were there! Trust me. I can smell you all over me. I can *taste* you!" She then cringed outwardly as the ramifications of the last statement hit her. She dropped her gaze to his chest, which did nothing to alleviate her mortification, the broad expanse of pale skin was marred with deep gashes. If memory served right - and she knew it did - those gashes were from her clawing as she'd ridden him. Unbidden, her body moistened at the thought. "That's not what I mean, Buffy," Angel said, trying his damnedest to ignore the scent of her blatant arousal. "I didn't mean my body wasn't there. I meant *I* wasn't there." "What?" she demanded, terrified at what she suspected. "Angelus," he stated simply. Buffy threw back the tarp, glaring at her mate. "How?" she screeched. "There isn't any loophole in your curse, Angel. How did I spent an entire night fucking Angelus?" He flinched. She was pissed, and rightfully so. "Doximall." "Who?" "Doximall. It's a drug that simulates bliss. A woman ... a client," he quickly corrected, "slipped some in my drink. I don't know how, but it allowed Angelus to take over for a few hours.” He paused for a moment before asking, “How did you know about the curse?" Buffy's glare deepened and Angel instinctively inched away from the furious Slayer. "Don’t change the subject! What were you doing having drinks with your client?" she bit out. "And, for the record, I learned about the state of your soul from *my Watcher*, which by the way I'm not to pleased about either. You can tell some stuffy Brit, but not your lover!" Somehow in his most heated memories of their prior relationship, Angel had forgotten about this. He'd forgotten how fights with Buffy didn't really follow the rules of logic. She should have been asking "how did Angelus take over" or "how long did the drug last", but no, she wanted to know about him having drinks with another woman and why he hadn’t told her about his curse. "Everything with Rebe- the client, was completely innocent," he said. "Really? Innocent? You're having drinks and drugs with some whore and it's innocent? What would you think of me doing a little Doximall with some guy while we split a bottle of champaign?" Buffy prodded caustically. Angel growled at the mental picture her words evoked. Still unable to control most of her responses, Buffy moaned openly at the sound, reaching for her mate as moisture flooded her hungry core. As he found himself once again being mauled by the Slayer's hot little mouth, Angel realized how imperative it was that he find out what had been wrong with her, what was *still* wrong with her. "Buffy," he said, pushing her away although all he wanted to do was bury himself in her molten depths. "We need to get out of here. Somebody drugged you. We have to find out why." The Slayer whimpered, but did not fight him as he rose to his feet, quickly pulling on his dirty slacks and wrapped her in what remained of his shirt. Her clothes were in tatters, strewn about the floor. Bending down, he fished a set of car keys out of one of the piles and then without a word, lifted her into his arms and headed for the tunnels. ***** Angel and Buffy entered his apartment through the sewers, taking extra care to be quiet so they could avoid his staff. They each took turns in the shower, rinsing off a day's worth of grime and an abundance of bodily fluids. Buffy's entire body ached from overuse and tension. Her head was still pounding, no doubt a lingering effect of the drug. She had spent the entire night having sordid sex with Angelus, then a quickie this morning with Angel and she still felt horny, unsatisfied. She sat under the hot stream of water, trying to let herself relax. When she was done in the shower, she studied herself in the small mirror Angel kept in the bathroom closet. Her neck was still bruised, but the hickeys were fading fast. The puncture wounds were already healed completely. Her life had just gotten a whole lot more complicated. ***** Angel sat down on the couch a short distance from the Slayer. He wasn't sure what kind of mood she would be in now that she'd had time to think about the implications of the previous night. He was a bit surprised when she crawled into his lap, leaning against his chest, but he wrapped his arms around her tightly. He inhaled deeply. She was calmer now, and clean, but he could still smell himself on her. It pleased him to the core even if it was Angelus who was responsible for the majority of the marking. He was still worried, though. Her scent was ... off. Surely the work of whatever she'd been whacked out on the night before. Not that she smelled bad. In point of fact, she smelled wonderful. In spite of her shower and change of clothes, he could still tell that her body was aroused. "Does anyone know you're here, baby?" he asked. When she shook her head no, he continued, "For the moment, it would probably be best to keep it that way. I don't think we should let anyone know, not even our friends, until we find out what is going on." Nodding in agreement, Buffy asked, "Why didn't he hurt me?" Years of practice had acclimated Angel to his mate's rapid subject changes. He didn't need to ask who "he" was. With a small sigh he attempted to explain his demon's attraction to his mate. "Because in his own twisted way, Angelus loves you just as much as I do." Buffy pulled back so she could study his face. "But he spent six months trying to kill me. He almost sucked the world into hell just to get rid of me. I was out of my mind last night, why didn't he just finish it instead of ... " "Angelus never wanted to kill you, Buffy. He wanted to possess you. You didn't want him, and you were too strong for him to force the matter, which is what he’d always done in the past. He tried to suck the world into hell because he couldn't have you. Last night he finally got you, there would have been no reason for him to cause you harm." "I didn't know it was him." "I know you didn't, sweetheart. He knew too. He wanted to keep it that way." "Do you ... I mean ... are you mad at me?" "No. Why would I be mad at you?" "For um ... you know ... " She averted her gaze bashfully. "Having sex with Angelus? No, I'm not mad. I would have preferred it been me you jumped rather than my evil twin, but I'm not mad. You had no way of knowing. I *was* there, not in control, but I know what happened. I felt everything he felt." "You did?" she asked, thoroughly embarrassed that he remembered her wanton behavior. "Yes," he said firmly, understanding her embarrassment. "You were amazing last night, Buffy. Beautiful. Perfect. You were the most erotic thing I've ever seen." "I love you," she said quietly, planting a gentle kiss on his lips, unable to listen to his complement without blushing furiously. He kissed her back, squeezing her until she giggled. He was trying to keep the moment from getting too sexual. He could already feel the heat building within her and he needed to get a few answers before it consumed both of them. "Now that we've established what happened to me last night, how about telling me what happened to you?" he prompted. "It's a long story," she said wryly. "Do you remember what happened?" "Yes," she replied, unable to meet his gaze. It was all so ... sordid and uncomfortable. "I was kidnapped and drugged." Angel's body stiffened, his arms pulling her tightly against his chest in a protective gesture. "Do you know who was responsible?", he growled, unable and unwilling to hide his emotions. Buffy laughed as a tear slipped from her eye. This was going to be fun. "It was my boyfriend," she said so quietly Angel almost couldn't hear her. "Boyfriend?" he asked after several long moments, trying desperately to keep his voice neutral. They were broken up. He'd encouraged her to start a new life, to find a normal, human lover. The reality that she'd made progress towards that goal did not make him happy. "I was dating a guy named Riley Finn. He is a demon hunter, an agent for the government group that put the chip in Spike's head. Somehow they knew I was the Slayer. They kidnapped me, I'm not sure what exactly they wanted with me, but they're the ones who drugged me. I managed to escape before they could finish their plan." "Did they hurt you?" he asked, knowing full well that if they had he would hunt every last one of them down and put Angelus's extensive mental rolodex of torture techniques to good use. Torquemada didn’t have anything on his demon. "Hurt? No. But I'm afraid the drug is not out of my system yet," she said, bowing her head to hide her blush. "I still feel very ... funny." "Trust me, sweetheart, I know. Whatever they gave you, it had a powerful aphrodisiac in it," he said with a small groan. Buffy let her body press more fully into his, whimpering in need when she felt his very pronounced erection. Needing to get back on track, Angel asked, "You don't know why they would have wanted to kidnap you?" Angel's brow furrowed at her negative response. He understood them doing behavior modification on demons, no matter how reprehensible he found it, but what would they want with Buffy? She was human. The only explanation for dosing her with an aphrodisiac would be to have sex with her. Surely the Initiative wasn't looking for a gang bang with a Slayer. They could definitely find more docile prey than an overstimulated super human. "What's goin' on in there?" she asked, lightly tapping his forehead. He smiled, kissing her again. "I'll let you know as soon as I figure It out." "Well," she said seductively, "I have a few other things you do with your body while your mind puzzles it out." Angel groaned as she pulled the sweater over her head, revealing her complete lack of undergarments. He couldn't ignore the fact that his lover was aroused to a fever pitch one second longer. Leaning forward he captured one of her pebbled nipples between his lips. "Angel!" she yelped. ****** "Are you still evil?"* she asked, not withdrawing the cross an inch. Angel sat up in the chair, lifting his hands in a sign of surrender. "I'm so sorry, Cordelia," he said shamefully. Cordelia cocked an eyebrow at his sincere apology. Angelus definitely wouldn't have bothered. "In the future," she said caustically, "maybe you shouldn't get quite so *friendly* with your clients." Angel nodded ruefully. "That is some very good advice, Cordy. Speaking of which, is Rebecca ... ?" "Scared shitless," she offered a bit too gleefully. "She probably has a restraining order against you by now, and just so ya know, I *don't* think you'll be getting paid for this one." He noticed she said *you’ll* instead of *we’ll*. He knew he was going to have to pay her despite the clusterfuck. "You're probably right," he said. "I *know* I'm right. I had to lend her a shirt to wear home since hers was covered in the blood you threw at her." Angel cringed. He was going to have to buy her a new shirt as well. "In all honesty, Cordelia," Wesley said, having just arrived at work, "it wasn't Angel that threw the blood, it was Angelus. Who," he said, carefully studying Angel, "I'm assuming is safely tucked away again." "Yes," Angel stated firmly. "Angelus is gone." "Just be sure you keep it that way," Cordelia said, turning and leaving his office abruptly. As Wesley turned to follow, Angel stopped him. "Wesley, could I please have a minute with you?" ***** "I see," the former Watcher said quietly. "We wondered why Angelus didn't come back last night to kill us. Apparently you had your hands full." ***** He was antsy, surely an after effect of the drugs Buffy had been given and both he and Angelus had fed on. He'd only gotten a small amount and he was about ready to climb the walls. He realized ruefully that Buffy must be in misery. "You say they drugged her?" Wesley asked, his eyes wide. "That's very odd. Why would the government want to drug her?" Angel rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, looking out the window of his office into the lobby. "They gave her a powerful aphrodisiac, stimulants, some sort of perception altering drugs after they abducted her." "Those are just the drugs you're sure about?" "Yes. Who knows what else was in their controlled substance cocktail." "How are you certain that the drugs are still in her system?" Wesley asked. "I can taste them," Angel answered without thinking, abruptly shutting his mouth as soon as the ramifications of what he'd just said hit him. "Taste?" Wesley asked, confused. The Watcher's eyes then went wide as the full meaning sunk in. "You *bit* her?" he hissed, years of training causing him to be automatically appalled at the idea of any vampire feeding on a person, much less a Slayer who was once his charge. Looking sheepish, Angel attempted to justify his actions. "Well, yeah, I bit her. I mean, I wasn't ... feeding ... we were just ... you know ... ," he said foundering helplessly. "I *am* a vampire, soul or no soul and there are just certain ... things that happen when vampires are ... .intimate." Wesley closed his eyes, horribly embarrassed by Angel's explanation. Trying to get back to safer ground, he said, "But an aphrodisiac. What would be the purpose of that? Sending a being of Buffy's physical strength into some sort of mating cycle would not serve to make her more manageable. If anything it would make her infinitely more difficult." Difficult? No, Buffy hadn’t been difficult, in fact the term that popped to Angel’s mind first was *easy*. Very easy. Hooker easy, but without the whole exchange of money thing. He laughed to himself. Buffy would kill him if she knew he even thought that about her. To be truthful, he would have killed somebody if she had chosen to be easy with anyone but her true mate, namely him. After recovering from his internal digression, Angel explained to Wesley, "Theoretically she would be difficult unless having sex with her was the ultimate goal." The Englishman's jaw dropped open. "Why?" "There is only one reason I can think of." "They wanted to impregnate her," Wesley offered, his face contorting into a grimace of revulsion. "Yes, that's what I came up with too." "They wanted to create a child with the Slayer ... and then do what?" "She says their main mission is demon behavior modification, but that isn't all they do. Their newest project is some sort of Frankenstein's monster. They're trying to create the ultimate fighting weapon by crossing demon species with human and mechanical parts, but it isn't meeting with a lot of success." Wesley sank back into his chair, his face a mask of horror. "They want to turn the child into a weapon? They can't build a monster so they want to *breed* one?" "I came to the same conclusion, only it appears all of their work is for naught. She chose to mate with the one male in her life who could not possibly get her pregnant." "Yes," Wesley agreed, "I suppose you being a vampire is a bit of a blessing in disguise on this point." "I still want to find out what exactly the drugs were that they gave her. We have no reason to assume that they would be harmless." "Yes," the former Watcher agreed, "I have several old acquaintances that are physiology researchers at UCLA. I could call in a few favors and have them run some tests. Surely we would just need a blood sample from the Slayer." ***** "Miss Summers," Wesley stated calmly, "I have never participated in a Cruciamentum before, nor will I ever. Watchers are given basic paramedic instruction due to the dangerous lives their Slayers face." Turning her attention to Angel, Buffy whined, "Are you sure you have to leave?" Angel tried to steel himself against her plaintive cry. "Yes, Buffy, we have to know what they gave you." "Why can't Wesley go by himself and you stay here with me?" she pouted, shifting uncomfortably on the bed to try and assuage the ache between her legs. "Because *I* want to talk to the doctors about this. You’re free to come along," he explained. Buffy frowned, laying back on the bed. She wasn’t going anywhere near anything even remotely resembling a hospital. Truth be told that was probably best. If he didn't get out of the room in a hurry he was going to take her right here, audience or not. As Wesley finished, Angel quickly grabbed his arm, ushering him from the room. ***** |