“You didn't,” I repeat, not understanding him. “She told me…”

Quentin interrupts me with a stern glare. “And you believed her? Really, Ms. Summers, I thought you knew better than to trust a vampire.”

“Okay,” I'm getting annoyed again and I can feel the old Slayer fire welling up inside me. “Tell me about Juliet then. I assume you know.”

He purses his lips and sits back. I really hate him. “Well…she used to work for us. Doing special jobs. But it soon became clear that she had an unhealthy fascination with you, Ms. Summers and so we told her we no longer needed her services any longer.”

I don't look at Angel, although I can feel his surprise from across the room. “Then these things she's been telling me? They're not true?”

He shakes his head. “No, they are all true. You will die in the End of Days fight, from injuries suffered during.”

“Okay then.” I resist the urge to cry. I can feel the tears welling behind my eyelids. “What else can you tell me about her? Who is she?”

“What she says,” Quentin answers. “She's the oldest vampire that exists today. She's done training, extensive training to overcome the demon within.”

Quentin's not telling me anything I don't already know. “Okay then, here's what I want. I would like you to give me all the information on the End of Days. And I want everything on Juliet. How powerful she is, stuff like that. And…” inspiration strikes me suddenly, “I want Angel's soul bound.”

“Excuse me?” Quentin almost laughs and that makes me see red. “We will not help Angelus!”

I take a step towards him, and soon am looming over his seated figure with my hands on my hips. “Oh Quentin,” I coo, and then my voice goes hard. “First of all, his name is Angel, not Angelus. Got that? Second of all… a girl has needs…” I trail off and watch him flush, “and if they're not being satisfied… a frustrated Slayer is a careless Slayer. And I might not try my hardest when it comes to the End of Days…would you like that?”

He stares at me for a long moment, and then through gritted teeth, utters, “I suppose…we could bind his soul. We have the spell.”

“Yay,” I drawl sarcastically. “'Spose you were never going to tell me about that?”

“We weren't planning on it,” Quentin says with an uplifting of his eyebrows. I think about smacking him and turn around to look at Angel.

“Can I hit him?”

Angel half smiles at me and shakes his head. “Buffy…”

“Okay,” I turn back and regard Quentin with steely eyes. “All right, I'd like whichever one of you who knows the stuff to do the spell. You can use the other room. And Quentin…we're going to sit down and you're going to tell me everything about Juliet.”

He nods, defeated and I grin. I like being the Boss.

~~~

From: WiccaSister89@hotmail.com
To: Buffy16@hotmail.com
Subject: Great news!
Date: January 17th 2000

Hey Buffy,

That is such great news about Angel's soul being bound! In your e-mail last night you didn't sound that happy…is everything all right with the two of you? I guess with the Council around you aren't having that much…free time?? Anyway, hope everything's going better today…and with the stuff you and Angel are hopefully doing?! Hee.

W

~~~

My skin is burning. For a while, I thought it had stopped when I was around him. I guess it knew it wasn't going to get anything, and it eased a little. But now, the tingle, the ache…it's unbearable.

When we used to be together back in High School I remember being hungry for him all the time. We would kiss and it was like I couldn't breathe anymore. Angel held this irresistible pull for me. When he was near, I could feel it, taste it, live it. He was all that mattered, and I think that's what got us into trouble. We *needed* to be with each other. We just couldn't not be. When we made love on that rainy night, it got worse. My flesh knew his touch, knew his mouth. I started to crave him the way an addict craves a fix. It sounds sick, and I suppose maybe I was. Sick with love, sick with longing. Sick with terror that my boyfriend would become a monster if I let him inside me.

I put up a barrier when he returned from Hell. I tried to date Scott Hope and attempted to pretend I was just helping him get better. We used to do Tai Chai. Often they fill my dreams…those times, alone at the mansion, swooping and bending like birds, our bodies were slick with sweat and yearning for each other. He wanted me so much I could smell it on him in those long drowsy hours we'd spend, training and talking, almost kissing and trying to blow it off.

And now…all I want is to be close to him. When he's not with me, or near, I literally feel like part of my body is gone. It's like a pull in my chest and belly that never goes away. I know it won't until he's wrapped in my body, until he has my kiss all over him, until I have his tongue all over me, and until he is all I can sense and smell. I need it. Oh God…I need Angel so much it consumes me.

It's been a day since his soul was bound in a long complicated spell done by a member of the Council. He's been avoiding me ever since then. I suppose it's been easy since I've been preoccupied learning about Juliet. The Council doesn't know much and it's annoying me to no end. I thought they would be like Giles, but I guess they all aren't gems.

I'm sitting in Angel Investigations, with Cordy. She's tapping away on the computer, as usual completely ignoring me and anything else that she considers below her notice.

“Cordy.”

My voice is pleading, bored and despairing. She looks up and smirks. “Problems, Mary Sunshine?”

Oh, man. She irritates me. But I can't care right now, because I'm desperate for normal human interaction. “Want to go shopping?”

She raises her perfectly plucked eyebrows and shrugs. “*You* want to have some fun? Well, color me shocked!”

“C'mon Cordy,” I whine and turn the full effect of my imploring green eyes on her. “I need something normal after all the Council shit. Please?”

She sighs and then grins. “Okay. I don't have any money, but I have charge cards. Let's go Hollywood, hmm?”

That makes me smile. Although she can be the most infuriating person on the face of the planet, I actually do like Cordelia. She comes through in an absolute pinch. And if Angel trusts her, I trust her. So I grab my bag, scribble a note to Angel and we head out. Ah, a day full of no responsibilities.

~~~

Cordy and I laugh as we enter A:I 10 hours later. It's 11 at night and I feel young for once. We shopped for hours and then went out to eat. It was amazing how with a couple of drinks in us, Cordelia and I actually found lots to talk about. My head's clearing though, which I'm grateful for. Don't want a hangover tomorrow.

As soon as I step in the door, Angel appears from the shadows, grabs me and snarls, “Where the hell have you been?”

“Wha-“ I can't even talk. My whole body reels from surprise and I sway backwards. Cordy smiles gaily.

“See you two lover birds lata,” she drawls with a fake accent and heads out the door once more.

Angel ignores her completely, and looks far into my eyes. “Where have you been Buffy?” he sounds breathless and I realize he was worried. I'm not sure why.

“I left a note,” I say helplessly, nodding towards the desk, and then I notice the open window. “Oops…must have blown out.”

He closes his eyes momentarily, and I can tell he's trying to calm down. “Buffy…please don't ever do that again…I thought maybe Juliet…or…I didn't even know…”

Suddenly my temper flares. “It's not like you've been Mr. Available lately for me to talk to, Angel! I mean, it's not my fault you've been avoiding me! What did I do? That's what I'd like to know.”

He drops his hands and sighs. “It's nothing you did. It's me… I don't want to hurt you again…”

“Angel. Your. Soul. Is. Bound,” I snap, finally losing my tenuous hold on my anger. “You're not going to hurt me again…”

“Rationally I know that,” he tells me, leaning against the wall. I sit down on the desk, leaning back on my elbows. “But, Buffy you have no idea how hard it's been for me, remembering what I did to you and your friends when I lost my soul. I can't get over the fear that it could happen again.”

“It won't,” I emphasise, and he stares at me. I can see the desire in his eyes and my stomach bottoms out as we gaze at each other. “Angel…” I murmur and he comes towards me as if in a trance. His hands grip my waist gently as he lowers his head and we're kissing. I moan in grateful relief as our lips and tongues touch and I know we don't have to stop and he can lose himself in me like always.

He picks me up and I snuggle into his embrace, kissing his neck and opening his shirt as we go down in the elevator, to his bedroom. The duvet is soft and cool against my back and we're stripping off our clothes in a mad rush to feel our skin touching fully. I'm blinded to everything else but Angel…my sweet, sweet Angel, who is kissing his way down my breasts and belly reverently, worshipping each inch of my flesh. I feel everything rushing down on me and he's groaning my name and I know he's lost and it makes me happy. My hands are unsteady as I run them down his back and chest and stomach, opening my legs and kissing him and feeling him slide over me.

We're drowning in each other, kissing desperately. His arms wrap tight around me and he draws me on top and I move on him, feeling him fill me and move and it hurts but in a good way and I'm weeping soft tears, feeling his hands on my breasts. It's Angel…”Angel…” I cry out and he sits up, his hands on my hips as we move together and everything is blurry and hot and I can't see anything but his eyes.

“Please…I love you…Buffy…my Buffy…” he moans into my neck as we explode together and I collapse on top of him, my body replete and satiated for the first time since I was seventeen years old. I feel full and complete and content. I don't care that I'm destined to die fighting the End of Days. Not right now.

My lover is holding me, and we're falling asleep together and everything is all right.

~~~

He wakes me with gentle kisses to my forehead and hair, and I smile, stretching. “Hi,” I murmur and he kisses my lips softly.

“Hey.”

“Is it morning?” I ask drowsily, and he nods.

“You're messing up my schedule. I should be going to bed right now.”

“I think I can make you tired again,” I tease and he laughs quietly, drawing me down to snuggle with him under the comforter.

“Buffy…about what the Council says…the End of Days fight…”

“Let's not talk about that,” I dismiss, my leg wrapped around his. I don't want to think about it right now. He's wonderfully cool and naked and bare and I can feel his muscles. I wish I could stay like this for the rest of my life, because this is the only place that makes sense to me.

“We have to Buffy,” he replies and I lay my chin on his chest, looking into his eyes pensively.

~~~

We didn't talk about death much in my family. Not when I was younger. The first experience I had with it came when my Grandma Elizabeth died. I still remembered her as the lady with the vibrant skin and the laugh that sounded like music. She was the person who took me away from my parents for short holidays and ice cream. I guess those are the people that aren't allowed to live long lives. I don't know why. In the hospital, it was quiet and she didn't say much. But her eyes looked so alive I remember thinking that there must be a mistake.

Of course as I grew older death became something I was faced with every day. I am the Slayer. I kill. It's my duty, and I hate it. Of course I know that Slayers aren't known for their long life spans and I know that any time something could go wrong and I could lose my little existence. But to have it so…mapped out. To have it written down and recorded for people to mull over? It's strange and wrong. I never wanted to know *when* I was going to die. I didn't want to know.

~~~

“Did you know that the first person I knew that died was my Grandma Elizabeth?” I ask Angel. I told him about her once. When we were lying on his bed after a patrol, so wiped out that the normal overwhelming sexual tension was eased somewhat. The memories spilled out. But I didn't talk about her death with him. It was still too painful a subject. Even for Angel and I.

His fingers trace the lines of my arms thoughtfully. “When did she die, love?”

“When I was ten,” I inform him and think of her. “I wonder what she'd say if she knew I was going to die young?”

He holds me tight and presses his lips shakily to mine. “You're not going to die. We're going to find some way around this, Buffy. I know we are.”

I ignore him and stare blankly at the wall. “At least I'll get to be young and pretty, right? Isn't that what most people want?” I giggle inanely and he grabs my shoulders, forcing me to look at him.

“Stop it, Buffy. I am telling you now, I will never let you go, do you hear me? I'm not letting this happen. I don't care what I have to do.”

“You can't stop destiny,” I argue with him, my voice hard. “Remember the Master? The prophecies said I would die and I did. Great track record I have.”

“Xander revived you,” he reminds me. “You didn't die. And we're together.”

“We are?” I can't help but brighten.

He sends me a withering glance and arches his eyebrow. “Well, I hope so, cause last time I checked, I was naked.”

I laugh, and soon I'm crying and he hugs me close, letting me weep and sob and wail, my keening cries animal in their sorrow. He knows what I'm crying for. The fact that there might be limited mornings like this one in our future.

I want to watch the sun rise with him each day. I can't help it. Is that too much to ask for? A long life with the guy I love most? Maybe it is for a Slayer. I don't know.

next