As she leaned over him, she touched his face gently. “Angel…wake up…” she murmured. His eyes opened, glazed and sleepy, and they locked on her wonderingly.

“Buffy…” he muttered, and tears filled his eyes. She was startled, and realized he was still half asleep, and not quite aware of what was going on. With one hand, he curved it around her back and pulled her down, his lips touching hers. She gasped with the sensation, tears appearing in her own eyes. It hurt to kiss him. Her flesh was burning with the ache of being close.

“God I love you…” he mumbled, kissing her gently, then deeper, his lips ravishing hers with savage hunger. “I've loved you since the first moment I saw you…”

“I love you too…” she sobbed softly, as he tore off her shirt, caressing her breasts with shaky fingers, her nipples poking into his hands angrily, swollen like tips of fire. “Oh please…”

As they kissed, and touched, their skin meeting in an explosive sensation, both panted with need, clawing at each other in mindless passion. Angel bent his head to close his mouth over her nipples, sucking and tugging at them, his lips cool around her hot flesh. Buffy ran her fingers desperately down his chest and back, smoothing the skin with fingers that had been denied the feel of it for so long. She moaned into his neck, kissing him feverishly, needing him as close as he could get to her.

“Buffy…Buffy…” he groaned almost like a litany as they clung to each other, her legs wrapped around his back, her hips beckoning him to fill her, grinding against him. “I love….love you…” he choked out as he slammed inside her, his flesh making her whole.

Buffy cried out, a strangled sound as he thrust into her over and over, deeper and harder each time, kissing her with trembling lips and moaning against her mouth. This was so different than Angelus, and now she knew why. This was Angel. Angel kissing her. Angel.

“Angel…” she cried out as he rammed inside her, his hands curving over her face reverently, his thumbs brushing against her cheekbones, tunnelling into her mane of hair with tenderness. Their eyes locked, and as green melted into brown, Buffy felt her insides explode around him, contracting and releasing, until the flood of him filled her full.

The weight of him on top of her was a welcome relief after all the years of emptiness, and she smoothed his back, kissing his shoulders. He tasted of salt and sweat and rain. Why did he always taste like rain? He rolled off her, but took her with him, so she was sprawled across his chest, her hair covering his flesh. He lifted a lock to his nose and inhaled, his eyes tortured.

“I'm sorry, Buffy,” he murmured, and she gazed up at him, surprised.

“For what?”

“I didn't mean…for this to happen…”

She sighed and refused to get angry. “Well, it did. So deal, please.”

He looked startled and then half smiled, touching her cheek. “Why are you always so flippant?”

“Why are you always so analytical?” she shot back, and rested her chin on his chest, her eyes meeting his. “Broodiness solves nothing.”

“I know,” he admitted, soothing the flesh of her back with his cool fingers. “I'm still sorry. I shouldn't have done that…we didn't even have a chance to talk about what happened.”

“Why talk when we can now do this?” she joked, the feel of his powerful thighs under her stomach enough to make her skin burn with desire once more. She wriggled against him playfully, but he caught her around the waist, stopping her movements with firm fingers. “What?” she whined and he laughed softly.

“We do need to talk. At least about what happened between you…and Angelus.”

“We fought, we had sex and then I cursed you good,” she replied. “End of story.”

He sighed and tilted her chin up so he could look her full in the face. “Don't do that. It wasn't the little deal you make it out to be. Please, Buffy…I don't want you doing that ever again. If I lose my soul again for whatever reason…just stake me.”

“Oh my God…” she scowled. “Do you have any idea what you're asking?”

“What do you mean?” he inquired, his expression one of confusion.

“You're asking me to just kill you…without even trying to curse you again…sorry, buster but that's not in the cards.”

“Buffy…” he protested, but she held up her hands, warding off his objections.

“No, listen to me. I can't kill you again…” tears filled her green eyes, as she pondered that horrible thought. “And I won't. Don't be all noble, with your 'just stake me' little speech. Don't you get that I would do anything…*anything* to save you? I don't care what it is…I can't let you die…”

Angel stared at her with despair etching his features. “Don't give up your life for me, Buffy. That's the last thing I want.”

“Would you give up your life for me?” she asked tightly.

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation. “In a second. In a mille-second.”

“Okay then,” she said, as if that settled it. “So, kiss me please.”

He laughed tensely, trying to ignore the sweet lips she was pursing exaggeratingly at him. “That's…that doesn't mean that you can just lay down your life for me again, Buffy. Just because I would…”

“Why not?” she asked sternly. “It's the same thing.”

“No, it isn't. My life…means nothing compared to yours.”

Closing her eyes, she fought for control. “How can you say that? Really, how can you think so little of yourself?” She stopped him with her fingers before he could even open his mouth. “Wait, I know you probably have a ready answer for that. Listen to me, I don't care what you say, nothing is going to convince me to just watch you die. Nothing. I…” she paused, her throat heavy with tears. “I love you. I always have…and I won't watch you die. Not ever. Not if there's something I can do to help. Your life…it means everything to me, Angel. Don't you get that?”

“I get it…” he replied, his eyes hollow and haunted. “But I don't understand it…and I won't…I won't let you risk yourself for me like you did when you were with Angelus. He could have killed you…” he choked out. “He would have killed you…he wanted to…I remember…”

“But he didn't,” she reminded him gently, caressing his cheek. “He didn't, and I'm here and we're together now.”

“Why did you…have sex with him?”

Buffy had known that question was coming. She didn't want to answer it, but knew, for once, she had to be honest. “I wanted to…” she whispered, and he gasped quietly, his eyes wide with confusion and revulsion. “Try and understand,” she pleaded. “It was like…I don't even know. At first it was just about the spell…but you don't get it. It was you…and yet it wasn't. I needed to be close to you…I didn't care how. I know it sounds sick…but whatever I could get, I would.”

“So…you…wanted him?” he questioned, and she cocked her head to the side, trying to figure out how to put her feelings into words.

“Parts of me did.” She hesitated and then plunged on. “It was the part of me that craves the darkness. The Slayer part…that wanted something wild…all these years with Riley…he never understood the darkness, the baggage that comes with being the Chosen Gal. And most of me just wanted to be close to you…to make love to you…even if it wasn't really you. I don't know, Angel, I just know that I needed it. I wanted it. But I want you more. Angelus…he feeds something inside me that I don't even fully understand. I love all of you…that's what I'm trying to say. Your demon side, your human side, every side. I just love you.”

He gazed into her eyes for long moments, obviously trying to come to terms with what she had just uttered, his face blank as he considered her. His fingers curved over her cheeks, and her ears, caressed her forehead, and hair, ran his fingers through the thick strands, tested the weight of them, and ran down to her neck, running lightly over the scar at the base. “I love you,” he finally murmured, bringing her close to kiss her, his mouth trembling with need. “I've always loved you.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I always loved you to…”

As they kissed, Buffy knew it was the end of something.

It was the end of their innocence. Their innocent belief that they could stay away from each other. She knew now, and so did he, that that was impossible.

She was glad to be innocent no longer, and as he kissed her neck, looked out the window, seeing a flock of birds rising into the air, their wings beating the air with fervour, saluting the end of the day, as the moon rose.

It might be the end of something, but it was the beginning of something even better.

Lowering her head to kiss the lips of the man she loved, she felt for a moment like one of the birds, flying higher and higher, until she touched the heavens.

end