Stolen Moments ~ Another Stolen Moment ~ Another Stolen Moments – Angel’s Return

Another Stolen Moment – Christmas ~ Another Stolen Moment – All That Matters

Stolen Moments Series

Written by Gia

Stolen Moments

The house was quiet when Buffy returned from her late night patrol. She knew though, that he was here. She sensed it the minute she had turned the corner and neared her house. Her steps quickened in anticipation. 

"Angel?" Buffy whispered quietly, turning on the bedside light. 

"You're late." His eyes scanned her, taking in the white sweater and tight jeans, the low hip hugging pants emphasizing her small, trim waist. In the dimly lit room, his words were soft and seductive, rolling over her in warm waves.

Buffy felt the tremor of excitement, that spark of heated desire race through her at the thought of the entire night alone with him. Their nights together were so few and far between.

She turned to face him. He was comfortably sprawled in the chair near the window, his legs crossed at the ankles in front of him. His dark hair appeared darker in the shadowed corner of the room. The white linen shirt he wore emphasized the breadth of his shoulders, the strength beneath. He was bigger, larger now than she remembered. His shirt was tucked into a pair of black pants, his coat draped over the back of the chair behind him. He was as sexy, gorgeous and as tempting as sin, Buffy thought as she looked at him, the familiar heat of desire stirring, clamoring within her.

She licked her lips, her eyes drinking him in. 

"You can't suck on me yet. You have to wait. I want to ram this into you first." His hand slid across his arousal through his pants, stroking casually as she watched the size of the bulge increase. At his blunt words, she stifled a whimper. He remembered what she had said to him on the phone all those nights ago. What she wanted.

"Take off your clothes." His voice was a husky whisper, his Claddaugh ring glinting in the light when he lifted his hand. 

Buffy swallowed anxiously, looking away from his magnetic eyes and mesmerizing strength in an attempt to control her heated response. Anticipation was poised, taut and screaming through her senses. But then, she had felt that way since yesterday when he had called to tell her that he was coming to Sunnydale. 

She lifted her eyes to meet his. She smiled slowly and lifted her sweater over her head with a slow, measured cadence. She turned then, denying him the sight of her naked breasts as she removed her bra and tossed it at him. 

Her hair was long now, long enough to reach the middle of her back. He remembered how it felt against his skin, the soft tresses stroking across him in feather light caresses. It would nearly cover her breasts now. He stifled a groan.

At the low sound, she smiled at him over her shoulder, her hands moving to the waistband of her jeans. He watched eagerly as she slid the tight jeans down her hips, pushing them to pool at her feet. 

Angel shifted, uncomfortably aroused. His return smile at her, however, was wolfish. 

His eyes smoldered with a heated look of desire, as they swept over her, taking in the perfectly formed legs and firm behind. She met his eyes over her shoulder again as she hooked her thumbs in the sides of her thong. For a pulse beat she felt his hot desire lick at her senses, then his gaze slid slowly down to her bottom, waiting with anticipation. She removed her thong, bending slowly to reveal her pink, wet cleft to him for the briefest moment. 

"Come here." Angel pointed to the spot between his legs. 

She walked to him slowly, stopping in front of him, trembling. 

"You like it when I tell you what to do, don't you sweetheart?" His voice was rich, velvety. His eyes flicked over her, taking in the half-closed eyes, the hard rose tips of her breasts, her legs clenched together. His preternatural senses easily detected the aromatic scent of her arousal. 

"No." Buffy murmured, the sound barely audible. Yet, lust burned through her senses, indifferent to issues of authority or command. 

"Are you sure? You're so wet." Reaching out with one hand, he slid his fingers through the lush profusion of wetness between her legs. He glanced up at her face. "And throbbing…" He'd felt it, that slight increase in her pulse beat when he touched her. 

Buffy closed her eyes. His fingers were cool on her throbbing flesh and she felt a heated frisson of pleasure race through her at his touch. It had been too long. 

"Were you thinking about what I said? What I wanted to do to you when I got here?" 

"Yess…" The words were scarcely a whisper, her attention focused on his hand, his touch.

He sat up, his fingers continued to stroke her. When he bent forward, Buffy sighed and slid her fingers into his hair. He eased her thighs further apart and she whimpered. The sound of a door closing in the house brought Buffy's eyes open with a start. She tensed. 

Angel felt her stiffen and looked up. "It's just you and me in here, and I'm going to lick your sweet little pussy whether you like it or not…" 

His tongue licked the nub of her clitoris delicately, insistently. Buffy arched her back and attempted to open her legs wider as she felt the melting ecstasy swirl through her senses.

"Oh god." Buffy moaned softly, biting her lip, her fingers tightening on his hair. 

"Sh…" He admonished softly, "If you promise not to scream, I'll make you come. Twice." 

Pushing two fingers inside her, he forced his palm against her clit and rotated his hand with firm, steady pressure. Buffy gasped loudly, panting as the first convulsing ripples began. 

"Quiet, sweetheart." Leaning down, he parted her gently and sucked her clit into his mouth as he felt her orgasm begin.

Buffy barely managed to stifle the scream that erupted from her lips as the ecstasy jolted her aching core where Angel's lips and tongue were still working their magic.

But when he continued sucking, the irrepressible sensation soared higher and she was lost to all but the rash, incautious pleasure that he offered. 

When the high, keening cry echoed through the room, Angel couldn't help but smile. It was a smile of pure masculine pride, satisfaction that he could bring her to such pleasure. 

Panting and breathless, her hands still clutching his hair, Buffy looked down at him. "Oh god. Do you think they heard? Do you think they'll know?" 

Yes, he thought, unless they were either deaf or stupid, or both. But he knew her worries, her fears. 

Their friends did not know they were back together, not yet. Dawn would accept him without reservation, but her friends… She wanted to wait until Willow recovered from her foray into black magic, until they understood the ramifications of the return of Spike's soul. Xander - well, he might never understand. And the AI team - well, Gunn and Fred would probably be happy for him, but Cordelia - like Xander - would never accept their relationship. 

"It doesn't matter." He stood, lifting her into his arms. "I'm going to fuck you all night." 

"All night?" She looped her arms around his neck and smiled, her fears dissolving at the feel of his body pressed to hers. 

"If you last that long…" Angel tumbled her back on the bed, lying on top of her with his weight balanced on his elbows. He erection pressed into her stomach as his hips undulated against her so that she could feel the tantalizing hardness.

She kissed his neck, her hands working at the buttons on his shirt. She pushed it over his shoulders and he shrugged out of it. He kissed her then, his lips meeting hers for the first time that night. After several heated kisses, he lifted his head.

"If you get tired let me know." His gaze was direct, challenging.

"What if I want to stop?" Buffy squirmed against him, delighting in the feel of his cool hard chest against the aching tips of her nipples. 

"You can't. And you can't call for your friends and you can't scream with you come this time." His tongue licked across her upper lip. "Hmmm… think you can come quietly?" 

"What if I don't let you in?" She murmured playfully shoving him hard and rolling across the bed. She escaped for a fleeting second before he caught her leg and flipped her back on the bed, covering her with his large body again.

Buffy giggled. "You're fast. But hopefully not too fast…" Her gaze drifted downward, her innuendo clear.

"Do you want to find out?" Angel licked a wet path down her throat as she arched her head back. 

"Yes. Unless you'll think that I'm-" 

His lips interrupted her words, brushing across her mouth in a teasing kiss.

"A hot and greedy little puss?" He smiled at her, lifting his head to look into her eyes.

"Is that a term from your youth?" She returned his smile, happy to be in his arms again. 

"Hardly." Angel was amused. 

"So then, what do I have to do - to, uh, attract your interest?" Her strong arms slid around his back, her hands sweeping across the muscles. She hugged him close, planting small kisses along his upper chest and collarbone.

"Spread your legs." He nuzzled her cheek, drifting down to suck gently on her ear lobe.

"That's all?" She laughed softly, his lips tickling her as they moved across the sensitive skin of her ear. 

"For now." He licked softly at the scar on her neck. His mark. He bit down with blunted teeth and felt her quiver beneath him. Her hands clutched at him. 

"Your standards are low." Her voice was low, breathy as he sucked on her neck. 

"I actually think my standards are quite high. I rejected Cordelia, for one." 

"Really?" Her eyes narrowed in anger, the thought of the brunette with her Angel too horrifying to contemplate.

"Yes. Wider." 

She squirmed, parting her legs wider and lifting her lips. It was blatant invitation.

"How's that? And did you really?"

"Very nice." He shifted back on his heels, admiring the view. "A hot little slayer just wanting to be fucked." 

A small needy sound escaped her lips as her hips rocked slightly. 

Angel unzipped his pants, warning her again. "You can't make any noise."

"I know." She whispered. She would have agreed to most anything he asked at that moment. 

He pushed his pants off and lowered himself between her legs. When he first entered her, Angel stopped savoring the wet, lush heat, the enveloping rapture. How long had he waited to be there, how far he had come to feel this, and perhaps more pertinently at this moment - how tenuous his restraint.

Buffy's hands slid to his waist, down to the base of his spine. She arched her back and lifted her hips, taking him deeper. She sighed softly. He was everything she needed.

So much for restraint. Angel felt his control spiral away as her lips searched for his. 

Buffy was as impatient and ravenous as he, immune to moderation and self-denial. They had been apart much too long, their evenings now few and far between.

She didn't tire that night, as he had suggested, no more than he could subdue his rampant desire for her. They were insatiable. He was, she was, they were - mindless to all but carnal passion and their rapacious cravings. 

***

"You have to go." Buffy checked the clock again. "It'll be dawn soon." 

"I know." His arms tightened around her, his face hidden by her hair, nuzzling her neck.

"Angel." She scolded. He shouldn't have stayed so long; she should not have allowed it. Each time they were together it was harder to part. And each time they grew more lax in their desire to do so. 

"I know." His hand was stroking her back, lazily drawing circles that were moving closer to her hip. 

"Don't just say I know again." Buffy pushed against his shoulders, "Get moving."

"Okay." His hand slipped around to cup her bottom, squeezing. 

"Angelll…" His name came out sounding like an endearment, not the admonishment that she intended.

"No one is up this early." He still had not opened his eyes, continuing to explore her body with his large hands.

Buffy pushed away from him and sat up. "If you don't get out of my bed this instant, I'll get you up and put you out myself." 

His brows lifted and his eyes drifted opening lazily. "Mmmm… You getting me 'up' is hardly an incentive to get out of bed, sweetheart." 

"Angel." Her voice was stern, her expression serious. 

He groaned and rolled out of bed, knowing she was right. He had to leave now or spend the day in Sunnydale - and of course, the AI team would worry if he didn't return. "I'm up. I'm gone." Nude, he rose and began to dress.

Buffy watched him, hating the sound of those words. He was gone too much, too often. 

He pulled his sweater over his head. "I'll be back as soon as I can. A few days." 

"I know." She sighed, hating the life they led right now. They were hiding from everyone. But soon… 

Angel leaned over and kissed her with tenderness, his every feeling and emotion poured into a single kiss. He smiled at her when he lifted his head, his thumb brushing across her mouth. "Don't forget me."

"As if I could…" She murmured softly in reply, kissing him again. Her heart was so full of love that she wanted to laugh and cry, she wanted to shout it to everyone yet at the same time hold it close and protect it, as if sharing it were to risk losing it. 

"I love you Angel. Come back to me." 

"Always. I love you Buffy." He was gone almost before she blinked, before he could lose his resolve to leave her again. His only consolation was knowing that she waited for him, and that he would be back. 

** End **

Another Stolen Moment

The sound of footsteps moving quickly through the hallway came faintly to her ears at first, the reverberations intensifying as the distinctive rhythm drew closer. It was almost one in the morning, much too late in the night for most anyone to be out and about in this particularly posh and quiet west LA apartment building. 

Buffy spun around from her position at the bay window where she had been standing since just after her arrival earlier that evening around 8, staring out in the dark and rainy LA night, as the footsteps came to a halt just outside the door.

Her heart sped up as the key was jammed into the lock impatiently, the knob on the door turning slowly. 

She was halfway to the door by the time it swung open and he stood there, a dark shadow in the dimly lit hallway. It was only then that she realized she'd been standing at the window for hours, now in the dark. 

"I thought I might miss you." He murmured softly, his hair and jacket damp from the pouring rain outside. 

"Angel." Buffy whispered, almost afraid that the man in front of her would turn out to be yet another of her impractical fantasies or perhaps another one of the many dreams that often haunted her at night and kept her from sleeping.

In a blur of movement he stepped into the room and forcefully closed the door, locking it behind him. He shrugged out of his coat, tossing it on the chair near the door as he crossed the room to stand in front of her. "I'm soaked." He apologized softly before reaching out and wrapping his arms around her, pulling her tiny frame tight against his. 

"I've been trying to get here for hours." He whispered into her hair, crushing her close. "I wanted to call," he continued in a soft murmured against her lips while mentally thanking some benevolent spirit for giving her such patience to wait for him when he knew what she was up against in Sunnydale, how difficult it had to have been for her to escape from her duties and responsibilities if only for a few hours, "but I was never alone." 

Buffy clung to him tightly as if she never wanted to let him go, her heart aching a little bit with his words. While he hadn't said as much, she knew that it was all part of the current charade to pretend that Cordelia was his love. It was, he believed, the best way to force her to reveal herself as the shrewd and vicious demon that he suspected she was. 

"How long can you stay?" She asked softly, forcefully shoving thoughts of the former Sunnydale cheerleader out of her mind.

No matter his answer, she knew the truth. There was never enough time.

Never a future for them.

Only snatched bits of happiness here and there.

"Just a few hours." Angel replied softly. He shouldn't have left at all, but he wanted to see her again. Perhaps what might be one last time… He had to tell her in person just what he had decided to do, what he felt he had to do if they wanted to have any chance at defeating the Beast. 

"I could help you." She said the words even though she knew that they weren't realistic. As had always been they case, they communicated easily without words. She knew what was on his mind even though he hadn't said. Staying in Los Angeles to help Angel was not only unrealistic it was virtually impossible. She had her hands full in Sunnydale with the First Evil and the SITs, not to mention Spike trailing after her with his heartbroken face and unpredictable soul. And Giles. He would be disappointed if he found out that she had lied to them and snuck away to LA to see Angel, even if only for a few hours.

Angel didn't answer immediately, so Buffy thought for a moment that he might actually agree even though they'd been over this time and again in the last few months. "You're needed at home."

"I know." She unenthusiastically acquiesced, clutching him close and burying her head against the hard wall of his chest. Her eyes closed as she took comfort in the stillness, the utter quiet of his powerful frame. "Did you decide what to do?" 

"I have to find out how to defeat the Beast, that's all the matters. Let me turn on the light." Angel dropped his arms, releasing her and switching to a topic less fraught with emotion for both of them. 

"I want to see you." Taking her hand he led her to the bedroom. 

He'd rented this apartment months ago, a place where he and Buffy could meet discreetly when she was able to come to LA and when he was able to escape his responsibilities at Angel Investigations, which unfortunately hadn't been often for either of them. The bed dominated the small room, large and opulent with dark heavily carved posts and draped with diaphanous tulle. A rich deep wine-red brocade duvet covered the high feather mattress, giving the bed an almost sinful appearance, clearly more than suitable for the carnal delights that had been in mind when it was purchased.

"Wait." Angel softly demanded, stopping her in the center of the room. He moved to the shelves along the wall and expertly lit the multitude of candles that aligned the top. 

It was enough that he was here, that they were together, she thought, watching him with an intensity that matched her feelings. His hair, still slightly damp from his trip through the rain, was darker in the dim room. Her eyes moved lower, taking in the black merino silk of his shirt that clung to his shoulders, emphasizing their breath. The shirt was tucked into an equally dark pair of black trousers, flattering his narrow waist and lean hips. His body was so gorgeous, it bordered on sinful. Lithe, graceful, athletic… and that was clothed. Nude…

"You look beautiful." He whispered, now standing in front of as if suddenly transported by magic, so quickly had he moved. He was staring down at her in the golden glow of the candlelight. She'd been so intent on watching him that she hadn't noticed the dozens of vanilla scented candles that he'd lit along the shelf, the window, the night table. "I've thought of you every minute since I saw you last." 

Buffy reached up and ran her fingers across the dark slash of his brown, through the spikey locks of his hair. "Me too." Her voice was hushed, almost vibrating with emotion.

"How are you?" He asked casually, reaching to push her black leather jacket down over her shoulders. 

Buffy smiled slightly in reply, reaching for the top button on his shirt. "Better now that you're here."

"Me too. To hell with the First, with the Beast." He smiled then, showing his perfect white teeth. The rarely seen sight moved her, and she wondered briefly about his life as young Liam. She wondered what he had been like so carefree and happy. She would have loved to see him then, to have known him.

"We need to retire." He added, tossing her jacket on the oversized chair behind her.

"Let's run away together." Buffy declared in response, pulling his shirt of his pants and unbuttoning the last button. Slowly she eased it down his arms, her eyes admiring the cool, chiseled expanse of his chest. Carefully she turned and laid his shirt on the chair behind her. 

"Just us." Angel toed off his shoes, his eyes trained on her face as if savoring every single glimpse of her.

"No one else." Buffy agreed, her hands reaching for his belt buckle and unclasping the silver fastener.

He lifted her black camisole top over her head gently, "Anywhere where I can be with you, sweetheart," before tossing it behind her as his attention turned to her lace-clad breasts. His fingertips tenderly brushed the swell of creamy flesh just above the pink lace. There was a quiet happiness that consumed him when they were together, that made him wish more than anything that it was possible for them to have a life together.

She loosened his belt and unbuttoned his pants, sliding the zipper down slowly. As her hand slipped inside and cupped him gently, he sighed softly and a near purring sound began low in his chest. 

"Mmm…, that's nice." He murmured softly, reaching behind her to unhook her bra. "Mmm… that's nicer." His voice was velvet soft as he ran his palm over the ripe fullness of her breast. "I missed these." He murmured, pulling the lace bra down her shoulders and baring her to his gaze. Her dark pink nipples were succulent, peaked and practically begging for his attentions. He lifted her breasts in his palms, squeezing them gently and making them quiver, the touch of his hands on her body sending heated spirals of want straight to her core. "They're so beautiful… so perfect." His hands slid around so that his fingers could close on her nipples. Lightly at first, the merest pressure of his forefinger and thumb, and then he tugged, gently stretching the taut peaks. 

Buffy gasped at the streaking pleasure. 

"You need me, don't you?" Angel whispered huskily near her ear, leaning down and sliding his mouth along her throat. He laved at the scar on her neck before biting down with blunted teeth.

"Desperately." Buffy breathed, the single word filled with intense desire, a near breathless longing. 

"I'm glad you were here tonight." He reached for the buttons on her jeans, roughly yanking them open and pushing the denim down her hips. It always astonished him, the pleasure that he felt at just being able to see her naked beauty. His hand stroked her flat stomach and moved lower, brushing across the whimsical heart print v-string panty that she wore.

"Cute." He smiled down at her as his hand slipped between her legs, rubbing her wet heat through the printed cotton.

"Mm…" She murmured with a gratified and teasing smile, "For you." Desire hummed through her body in a steady, feverish and demanding rhythm. How could this man so easily bring her to such a fever pitch?

"Only me." Angel growled possessively, returning his lips to her neck and biting harder, sucking the delicate flesh through his teeth even as his fingers continued their expert manipulations of her sopping wet core. Buffy only mewled in response and dropped her head to the side giving him better access. 

"Let's just take these," Angel suggestively murmured, sliding the tiny soaked panties down her legs to pool at her feet with her pants. "off."

"And these…" Buffy purred, kicking her pants and sandals out of the way as she stripped his pants from him as well. Her luminescent green gaze locked to his rich mahogany one, she reached out and took his erection in both hands, stroking it with maddening slowness. 

"Did he miss me?" She teased, smiling playfully and leaning down to touch the velvety tip with her tongue. 

"More than you can imagine." His eyes closed and his entire body tensed as he felt her warm breath on his sensitive arousal, followed by the wet lapping of her tongue. She enveloped him in the warm heat of her mouth, sucking gently and bobbing her head. His hand cradled her head as she pleasured him, dropping to her knees to take him in her mouth with greater ease. 

He rocked gently on his feet as she moved, taking him deeper into her mouth and throat, sucking him with a voracious hunger that belied any prior sensation he had ever experienced. Her fingertips closed over the base of his shaft, pulling gently in time with her mouth and adding a squeezing pressure to the rapidly building climb to the peak of sensation. When he would have stopped her, she shook him away and continued her enthusiastic sucking pressure, urging him to greater heights of pleasure. He groaned softly as he reached the jolt of orgasmic sensation, Buffy greedily swallowing his cold seed. 

"I love you." He murmured softly, his fingers threading through the silken locks of her hair. 

Her gaze swung up to his face, her tongue still caressing the vein along the underside of his now semi-hard erection. "I love you." 

He gazed down at her, her golden hair spilling over her shoulders, her skin creamy and rich in the golden glow of the candlelight, her green eyes hot with desire and he wondered how he would ever live without her. 

"Come here." He said, his voice husky and low.

He pulled her to the bed and drew her down, content to lay beside her for a long quiet time, hungry simply for the feel of her against him. The warmth of her body seeped into his, warming him from the inside as the wonder of her love touched his very soul. "I've thought of you - wanted to hold you so often." 

"Stay with me." She whispered into his shoulder, her face buried against his neck, one leg draped over his body. 

"Someday I will." Angel replied softly. If he came back from what was planned, he thought. Or if the Beast didn't kill him. Rising on one elbow, he gazed down at her wanting to preserve her image in his memory - every exquisite detail, every perfect curve and graceful arc. 

"You're so beautiful. Perfection." He reverently whispered, his eyes and fingertips tracing the valley of her breasts. "A goddess." His hand glided over her stomach, stopping just above the neatly trimmed curls between her legs. 

"You're mine. Forever." He growled softly with passion, his hand moving lower to reach the wet heat between her legs. 

His eyes returned to her face, his dark gaze focused on her with a piercing intensity. He wanted an affirmation of his own thoughts, his own feelings. He wanted to be sure that he wasn't alone in his obsession, in his love for her. He needed words, as if he couldn't tell how she felt from the heated pulsing of her body, her rapid heartbeat and frantic breathing, the impassioned look of desire and love so feverishly apparent in her eyes. 

"I'm yours. Always." She murmured softly, her tongue licking across her lips. She dropped her head back on the bed, arching her throat as she urgently lifted her hips against his hand, wanting to quell the impatient, burning need that he had stirred inside her. 

Bending his dark head, he brushed his lips across his mark on her neck once more. "You're my world…" His lips settled on hers hungrily as his finger slipped inside her, stroking the damp pulsing flesh. His thumb brushed her clitoris, tracing the swollen nub with lazy circles as he leisurely explored the sweet taste of her mouth with his own.

"Yes…" She keened softly, when he lifted his head and allowed her to catch her breath. She continued to move, arching her hips and rotating them with a bewitching urgency against the three fingers had now had buried in her hot channel, seeking more. "More…"

Her breathing was coming in pants, her skin glowing with a faint sheen of perspiration as he pushed her to the very edge of ecstasy and held her there.

"I'll give you everything." Angel whispered, shifting his weight and easing between her legs, unable to wait any longer before burying himself inside her. 

"Now, Angel, please… " Buffy whimpered, her words catching in her throat as he pressed forward parting the sleek pulsing tissue of her labia and sank down inside her, seating himself to the hilt. That single thrust was more than enough for her already over stimulated senses and she cried out, bucking hard against him as she plunged over the edge into orgasmic bliss.

He stayed still inside her, content to lavish her features with soft kisses, waiting until she roused. 

"You're as good as I remembered." Buffy softly breathed, opening her eyes with wonder.

He smiled but didn't move, only kissed her. A gentle, seductive kiss that grew slowly in intensity, once more stirring the heated flame of desire.

"Ummm…" she purred softly against his lips, opening her mouth and luring his tongue inside, offering herself with an enchanting eagerness.

His mouth lifted after a time and lowered to her throat, where he nipped at her sensitive flesh and laved at her pulse, as Buffy sighed in pleasure, her hands moving restlessly over his shoulders and through his hair. He kissed a path down to her breasts, sliding out of her as he shifted lower. 

Buffy whimpered softly at the loss of his fullness inside her and clutched at him, attempting to draw him back to her even as he resisted and nuzzled the taut peak of her nipple. The infinitesimal pressure of his teeth closed on the hardened tip and she moaned, arching more tightly against him and pressing her sensitive flesh more firmly to his mouth.

The pinked crests elongated and darkened as he suckled on them with excruciating slowness, alternating light nipping sucks with harder, more forceful pulls of his mouth. He licked them gently, nibbling them and swirling his tongue around the rigid peaks until he brought her to a panting urgency. Her eyes were closed, her body quivering with sexual need.

He moved down in the bed, planting nipping kisses along her abdomen as moved lower, parting her thighs wider with his palms. He stroked the firm muscles of her sleek inner thighs, his hands moving gradually upward until he reached her heated core. Sliding a delicate fingertip along the pulsing, engorged flesh, he whispered, "Mmm… you're so wet, sweetheart, so hot and delicious." 

Buffy closed her eyes tightly against the licentious surge rippling through her heated vaginal channel at his wanton words.

Bending his head he licked a path to her clitoris that elicited an immediate response, Buffy crying out sharply as she came with a wild gasping sob. When she calmed, he parted her vulva gently and slipped his tongue inside, lapping up the abundant honey flowing from her wet heat. He traced the distended and swollen nub of her clit with exquisite slowness, swirling his tongue around it before sucking it into his mouth. Her panting cries echoed through the room as he extravagantly, gratifyingly indulged both himself and her, as he used every bit of his acquired expertise to bring her to the height of pleasure again and again. 

She was quivering with rapacious need when he climbed back up her body, sliding inside her with exquisite slowness. He moved slowly, gliding in and out of her hot, tight and exceedingly wet channel, feeling her luxurious heat close around him with gratifying pleasure. He wanted to plunge into her recklessly, mindlessly, to lose himself inside her yet at the same time he wanted nothing more than to slow the pace and prolong the agonizing rapture. 

Her hands roamed over his chest, his shoulders and his face, in a restless and urgent flutter until they stopped at the short hairs at the nape of his neck, her fingertips raking over them gently. "Angel." She whimpered pleadingly, her senses on fire as the turbulent delirium was fast overwhelming her again. 

"I'm here." He whispered in reply, raw emotion in his voice. 

Her golden hair was wild and loose on the pillow beneath her, the rich color gleaming like the most precious of metals in the amber glow of the candlelight. Reaching up she clutched the nape of his neck with strong arms, pulling his head toward her, her lips seeking his. "Stay. Forever." She beseeched him softly, a mild terror gripping her as brief moment of reality intruded in her mind.

"I'll always be with you." He murmured against her lips, kissing her softly while all the while knowing that she wanted the words however dissembling they might be, even while knowing that as he spoke them that tonight might be all they would ever have.

Her eyes filled with tears, her fears unassuaged by his words, knowing the truth as much as he did.

He loved her then gently, kissing away her tears, telling her in romantic phrases of his love for her, words that made her forget for a time about the evils that lurked outside this room for them and about the preciousness of their time together. He moved slowly as he whispered to her, drawing out the exquisite pleasure, bringing her expertly to climax only to start the joyous torture again. She clung to him greedily as impassioned need inundated her thoughts and her body, allowing her fears to dissolve in a sumptuous haze of pleasure while her sadness burned away in the fiery flames of lust. 

"Love me" she mewled softly. And he did. He loved her to distraction, his love for her reaching the deepest depth of her heart, her soul, her senses, her mind, her body, her sweet wanton sex until at last he collapsed against her… and they lay replete.

They were half asleep in each other's arms when a noise in the corridor woke Angel with a start. He groaned softly, his closing his eyes again but only for a brief moment before he opened them again and glanced down at Buffy. 

"Are you sleeping?" He whispered softly, adjusting her in the curve of his arm.

"Yes. I can't move. You have to stay." She replied hesitantly, her voice sounding remote and almost girlish. 

"I'll tell them to take care of the Beast without me. Giles can handle the First Evil." He murmured softly, kissing the top of her head.

"That's what I was thinking." 

"If only we didn't have reality." Angel sighed, sliding up in the bed to rest against the pillows, lifting Buffy into his lap. "I was thinking…"

"That you should go back with me?" Buffy said with a small smile, her expression hopeful.

Placing a finger across her lips, Angel smiled back. "Maybe this will be over within a few weeks."

She said nothing for a long minute, simply listened to the beating of her own heart, the delicate pattering of the rain against the window. 

"You're going to do it, aren't you?" She asked finally in the hush stillness of the room.

"I have to." Angel affirmed, looking away from her face. "Angelus is the only way we can find out about the Beast and since I can't lose my soul for perfect happiness anymore, this Shaman taking it is the only way."

Buffy debated for a moment the degree of her unselfishness, her unwillingness to lose him again to his demon, the uncertainties of the future. "Do they know?"

"About my soul? No."

"What will they believe then?" She questioned, shifting her position slightly and resting her head just under his chin.

"The Shaman will take my soul with the ritual. They don't need to know anything." He couldn't tell her the extent with which he was trying to protect her, to protect the relationship that the world didn't seem to want them to have, that the Powers had all but denied them. He would go as far as he had to, but he actually wondered if he would be a good enough actor to make them actually believe that he had feelings for … egads … Cordelia. 

"I don't know, Angel. Angelus back… it's not really a safe plan."

"You have no faith, love." Angel forced a smile, tilting her head back to look at him. He had the same doubts, the same fears. But she had enough to worry about on her own. It bothered him more than he could admit that he couldn't just abandon his post here in LA and rush to Sunnydale to fight the First Evil along side her. "I'll - not Angelus - me - I will be in Sunnydale before summer."

"I'll wait for you then." Buffy replied, capitulating. They each had their own battles to fight. She wouldn't let him tell her how to fight hers anymore than she could tell him how to fight his. Somehow though, whether in this life or the next, they would find their way back to each other. Of that, she had faith. 

He kissed her then, a lingering bittersweet kiss of love and farewell, the sweetest and saddest kiss in the world. With the return of Angelus and his soul in the hands of people that he wasn't sure he could trust, there were no guarantees that anyone would survive the bloodbath that could ensue, not even he. And even if he did survive, Buffy was facing the First Evil … No, there was no guarantee that either of them would survive.

"Call me when you can." He ordered softly. " I want to know everything that's going on." 

"You won't care as Angelus." Buffy replied petulantly, her feelings dangerously close to the surface and out of control. 

"Try." He amended quietly, not telling her that Angelus would care. That the demon suffered the same obsession for her that he himself did. "Wait for me. I'll come for you, I promise." 

"I'll wait forever, Angel." Buffy whispered and clung to him, wrapping her arms around his neck as she gave in to the tears that had been threatening. She cried softly against his chest, her tears warm against his cool skin, the scent of her filling his nostrils. Slowly he untwined her arms from around his neck and kissed her eyes and cheeks and nose and lastly her mouth with aching tenderness. 

"I have to go. It will be daylight soon." He said with a sigh. "Wish me luck."

"I wish you" Buffy replied with a sad smile, her finger tracing the slant of his brow, "only the very best of luck and victory."

"And the same - tenfold - for you, my love." Angel raised her fingers to his lips and kissed them, then lifted her from his lap. Rising from the bed he stood utterly still for a moment attempting to shake off the feeling of foreboding that had settled over him.

Buffy watched him in silence as he dressed, not knowing if this was to be her last sight of him: his powerful, muscled body moving easily with grace and power, the paleness of his skin illuminated by the golden glow of the candlelight. He smiled at her occasionally as he dressed, his own thoughts preoccupied, but the warmth and affection in his gaze could certainly not be denied. 

He was her lover, her strength, her bulwark, she thought, her mind attempting to stave off the coming chill of solitude, of darkness that had surrounded her when they had last been separated. How would she manage, should he not return to her? Despite her grim thoughts, she returned his smile and thought how lucky she had been to have found him, to have been part of his life no matter how sporadic and brief their time. 

When he sat on the bed to pull on his shoes, she came to her knees behind him and leaned on his back. She didn't want to let him go. 

"Put something on, sweet, or I'll never get out of here." He glanced at her affectionately over his shoulder, pushing aside his own gloomy thoughts at their parting, as she kissed his ear and moved away.

She dressed quickly, tugging on her jeans and camisole top. 

Standing again he buckled his belt and glanced around the room. The soft tread of his footsteps on the hardwood floor were the only sounds in the silence of the room, the hush of this parting a nearly suffocating presence.

She met him halfway when he started toward her. She didn't want to cry during their last few minutes together so she forced her mind to consider the happiness that he'd brought her, the love, the unmitigated joy. 

Mentally he was already leaving her, his visage grim and dark. It was the only way he could force himself to go. His expression was remote and slightly foreboding as he glanced down at her face.

"Don't forget me." He said softly, pulling her into his arms one last time.

"Never." She lifted her gaze to his face, her eyes lambent. "You have to come out of this Angel. You have to live." 

"I'll see you soon." His head dipped and his lips brushed hers, a gentle kiss without emotion for he could not allow it. Not now.

"I'll wait for you." She said, her hands finding purchase on his shoulders as she rose up on tiptoe to brush his mouth with hers one last time. She clung to him briefly before she released him and stepped back.

"Take care of yourself. Promise?" He whispered, brushing her hair back from her eyes.

She nodded, her mouth trembling and her eyes watering, against her wishes to the contrary. "Yes. I love you." She breathed softly as he nodded and turned to walk away.

He paused at the door, swiveling around to look at her again. He tried to smile but failed. "I love you." His eyes were darker in the shadows, his appearance intimidating. "Nothing can change that, not even death." He finished in a soft whisper.

And then he was gone.

With a heavy heart, Buffy gathered her things and prepared to return to Sunnydale. 

The First Evil was waiting. 

The End

Another Stolen Moment – Angel’s Return

He slept. He didn't think he would manage to do so that night but he had. Sheer exhaustion had overcome the turmoil in his heart and soul. His last thoughts as he drifted off to sleep had been of her.

Did she know that he had lost his soul? Had Willow told her about her trip to LA?

He was dreaming, or so he thought, a short while later when the first touch of her fingertips grazed the dark ink of the Gryphon tattoo on his back. Her lips, soft and warm, followed her fingers, brushing the almost smirking winged creature with a kiss. He stirred slightly, resisting the urge to wake. He had imagined or dreamt of her touch more often than he could remember.

Her fingertips moved along his neck, stopping to toy with the short, dark hairs at his nape before drifting along his shoulders then down his spine. The sweeping touch was as light and delicate as a butterfly's wings, yet it swept through him with a forceful urgency.

Her lips again followed her fingers, leaving warm, wet kisses along his back, his nape, and his shoulders before moving lower. Her mouth was hot against his cool skin, almost feverishly so. Her touch was erotic, sensual as she lingeringly kissed each vertebra down to the very base of his back, drawing the satin sheets down with her to pool at his hips. 

The tip of her tongue laved his bare flesh, stroking with delicate laps that teased and aroused his every nerve. She moved slowly up and down the broad expanse of his back, her hands and lips and tongue caressing, leaving a trail of heat that burned across his flesh straight to the growing erection between his legs. She lingered again on his tattoo, tracing it with slow, wicked licks before biting down with blunted teeth.

Angel lay still, afraid to move, afraid that the dream would prove to be just that, a dream. He waited anxiously, hungering for more as she moved away from him for what seemed like several long minutes.

Then he felt the silky, supple length of her naked body press against his back, his bare hip where the sheets had slipped away. Her pebbled nipples scraped along his skin as her sultry kisses once more grazed his neck. Her hands moved over his shoulders and down his arms, her fingers digging in to the muscles of his biceps as she clutched him closer.

At her urging, he rolled over on to his back. He again fought the urge to waken fully, unwilling to risk that this erotic fantasy was nothing more than a dream.

Her hands roved over his chest and down his stomach, stroking, caressing, moving lower but not quite low enough. He groaned softly, his cock aching for her touch as she teased, her hands drifting away to return to his shoulders.

When soft lips nibbled at his, he finally opened his eyes. Clear green met dark brown for the briefest second before they both closed their eyes again, their lips meeting in a hungry kiss. He cradled the back of her head with his hand, pulling her closer and slanting his head to deepen the kiss. She nibbled at his lips and sucked his tongue in her mouth before pulling away, breathless and panting, to kiss a path down his neck.

She nibbled and licked and sucked as she moved lower, stopping to taste each taut nipple. His fingers curled into the silky curtain of her hair when she moved lower, finally taking his hard cock into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around him in loving caress as she sucked him deeply into her throat.

Angel groaned hoarsely and wrenched away from her after several long moments of such exquisite pleasure. Catching her by the waist, he rolled her on her back pinning her beneath him.

He guided his rampant erection to her slick honeyed sweetness, grateful that she was ready for him. He tried to be gentle when he slid inside her, but his need was too urgent, too strong. She clung to him tightly and welcomed him into her body with a small rapturous sob that was an echo of his own fevered longing. 

If he had been able to speak at that moment, he would have told her that there could be no other woman for him, ever. If she could have been able to speak, she would have told him that she could not live without him. Yet the only sounds in the room were the soft swish of the sheets and the harsh panting of her breath. 

He moved with swift, searing force, desperate to feel her again. He was unable to control himself, driving forward with hard strokes until he felt her shudder beneath him. Only then did he allow himself to soar to his own explosive release. 

The next time was slower, both taking time to explore each other's body, remembering sensual places. The next, slower still as they savored each touch, each taste. 

Long hours later, he lay still as she curled against him. Exhaustion, satiation, contentment, all hummed through him. He was more than happy that she was there, amazed and grateful that she had come to him.

In the dark bedroom, Buffy whispered softly, "Welcome back." 

*End*

Another Stolen Moment – Christmas

“O Little Town of Bethlehem” was playing softly as the elevator glided down to the basement garage. Angel glanced absently at the brightly decorated wreaths that hung along the walls as he waited for the silver doors to open. 

His footsteps didn't make a sound as he walked along the row of expensive automobiles until he reached the black Range Rover at the end. He scrutinized the quiet garage with a keen gaze as he slid behind the wheel of the car and closed the door with an almost inaudible click. 

In the months since he had taken over Wolfram and Hart, he had learned that almost nothing within the walls of the massive office building went unobserved. No doubt even now, Eve knew that he was leaving the building and was informing the Senior Partners and who knew how many countless others. It was, however, a tribute to his stealth that he had actually managed to slip past Spike, his near constant shadow. 

Still, who knew he was gone mattered little right now. He'd personally selected and then inspected the Range Rover to ensure that it would not only blend in with the hundreds of others like it on the road in Los Angeles, but that it was free from any tracking devices, cameras or other modes of surveillance. Once outside the walls of Wolfram and Hart, he'd be able to slip away into obscurity - at least for a few days. And that was all he needed.

Pulling out of the garage he watched the traffic behind him carefully until he saw them. The black GMC Yukon was several car lengths behind, but definitely following. With a smile, he yanked on the steering wheel and took a hard right. Several deft maneuvers later through the winding streets and the thick Los Angeles traffic, and Angel had lost the car on his tail. He couldn't help the smile that crossed his face, both because he had lost the W&H lackeys as well as in anticipation of the next few days.

The traffic was heavy at LAX as was expected just two days before Christmas. Angel circled the parking garage for almost half an hour before he was able to find an open spot. Checking the time and the arrivals monitor, he hurried toward the designated gate. Fortunately, time was working in his favor even with the deliberately indirect route to the airport and the parking delay; he sensed her coming through the gate after only about ten minutes of pacing along the crowded corridor.

Despite flying almost fifteen hours which included a stopover in New York, her tiredness seemed to slip away when she saw his tall, dark head immediately after she crossed through the security gate. With a bright smile on her face, Buffy pushed her way impatiently through the throngs of people.

Angel smiled, opening in his arms and she went into them naturally, dropping her bags so she could hug him unencumbered. Heedless of the crowds of people surrounding them, their lips met in a passionate kiss.

Long minutes later, holding hands and smiling happily, they wound their way through the busy parking garage to the car. 

“Nice.” Buffy said as she eyed the pristine new Range Rover. The leather creaked as she climbed in the passenger seat, the new car smell still obvious.

“Thanks.” Planting another quick kiss on her lips, Angel closed the door behind her then walked around to get in on the driver's side. 

They made small talk about the car, her flight, about Giles, the potentials and the Scoobies as Angel navigated the car expertly through traffic to the I-10 freeway. Christmas carols played softly on the radio as they eased into the flow of the steady moving east bound traffic.

“Still having issues with Spike?” She inquired softly, her gaze moving from the tail lights of the car in front of them to Angel's face. They'd talked about the blonde vampire at length several times over the past months, so she knew about the various events that had been going on at the offices of Wolfram and Hart.

Angel only lifted an eyebrow at her in response. 

“Okay, so you'll always have issues with Spike.” She acknowledged, reaching out to run a hand along his arm. “I'm sorry.” 

“What's between me and Spike goes beyond…”

“Beyond us and back over a hundred or so years, I know.” Buffy interjected, aware of the multitude of issues between the two vampires. She also knew, as did Angel, that their time together was limited. Giles could only explain away her disappearance for a few days, particularly at Christmas. And no doubt W&H or his friends were already searching for Angel, regardless of his wishes. “So then, we won't talk about Spike. Or anyone else. We'll just pretend it's just us alone in the world, no one else.” 

Reaching over, Angel put his hand on the soft skin of Buffy's knee, just below the hem of her short black skirt. He nodded agreeably and gave her a small smile. In no way would he mind forgetting for awhile about the machinations at work or the trials and tribulations that managing an evil law firm brought with it.

“So, where are we going?” She asked, looking once again at the freeway signs they passed showing that they were leaving the greater Los Angeles area.

“You'll see.” Lifting his hand, he cupped the back of her head and pulled her closer. With one eye on the road and the steering wheel braced against his knee, he leaned over and kissed her. A sweet tender kiss that grew rapidly in intensity, turning to a passionate demanding kiss that ate at her mouth with a greedy, long-denied hunger. When he released her, Buffy sighed softly and took a breath, thinking how wonderful it was to see him again after the months apart.

“You drive,” She said breathlessly, leaning over the center console, “and I'll do the kissing.” 

She planted soft kisses on the corner of his mouth, the straight line of his nose, his cheekbone, and the line of his jaw before moving to his neck. Nuzzling above his collar, she nibbled at his ear and throat with nipping kisses before finally returning her mouth to his. She bit at his lower lip before tracing it apologetically with her tongue. She then pressed her lips to his, slipping her tongue into his mouth. Her kiss this time was longer, slower, deeper - telling him how much she missed him, how much she wanted him.

Angel made a low sound of pleasure in his throat as he kissed her back, the promise of sex explicit in each thrust of his cool, wet tongue. His right arm, draped around her back, tightened and drew her closer.

With Christmas music still playing on the stereo, the lights of LA disappeared behind them and the white lines of the freeway streaked by almost unnoticed as they kissed and cuddled during the rest of the almost two hour drive.

With the ache of unfulfilled desire growing ravenous, Buffy's hand dropped to Angel's lap. “I missed you so much.” She whispered against his neck, stroking him through the dark wool of his slacks. She sucked the pale, smooth skin through her teeth again.

Taking a deep unneeded breath, Angel removed Buffy's hand and shifted her back slightly. They had to slow down, or else pull over, before he drove off the road. He wanted to wait. After months apart, she deserved more than a hurried coupling in the back seat of the car, no matter how roomy or comfortable it might be…  Forcing his thoughts away from the increasingly appealing idea, he pressed firmly on the accelerator. “Almost there. Just a few more miles.” 

With her lower lip thrust out in a pout, she snuggled close and reached for him again.

“Wait, sweetheart.” He grabbed her hand with preternatural speed, bringing it to his lips and planting a soft open-mouthed kiss in her palm. “I promise I'll make it up to you when we get there.” 

“Get where?” She smiled, resting her head against his shoulder. She gazed up at him, her green eyes coquettish. The fingers of her other hand walked a teasing path along his thigh.

“You'll see.” He said with a small measure of relief as he finally spotted the freeway exit sign. Taking the off ramp, they wound their way through the streets of Palm Springs until they reached the sign that said 'Ingleside Inn'. Turning into the driveway, Angel guided the car into a parking space near the entrance.

“Stay here.” He shut the car door behind him and jogged inside while Buffy glanced around at the beautiful Spanish style building and tastefully lit gardens. After almost ten minutes, Angel returned with a triumphant smile. 

Buffy watched him, bemused, as he drove them around the back of the hotel and parked in front of a small villa. 

Retrieving her bags from the back, he said, “We have the 'Gable and Lombard Honeymoon Suite', or so the woman at the desk tells me.” Slipping the key in the lock and opening the door, he smiled and gestured for Buffy to enter. 

The green and pale yellow decorated villa was cozy. A fire was already lit in the fireplace, staving off the cool rainy California air. In one corner there was a small, brightly lit Christmas tree decorated with dozens of ethereal white, red and gold ornaments, opalescent white ribbon and red poinsettias. 

“Ooh, it's beautiful.” Buffy murmured, surprised and delighted. Her smile lit up her eyes as she turned back to look at him. 

“You don't know how hard it was to do all this without anyone finding out.” Angel teased as he closed the door behind him. He recalled the half dozen or so trips he made out here to handle all of the arrangements in person, including the Christmas tree.

Buffy's smile faded and her eyes welled with tears. She hated the reminder of how their life was now, how it had been for so long - hiding from everyone and finding happiness in stolen moments here and there; moments that were all too fleeting and rare.

Setting her bags down, Angel made it to where she stood in two strides. He was filled with guilt and remorse, knowing immediately what he had done. He hadn't meant for the words to come out the way they had sounded, and he never wanted her to be unhappy. Putting his arms around her, he pulled her closed. “I'm sorry, baby. I promise you, it won't always be like this.” 

“I could come back and help you, you know.” She ventured softly, peeking up at him from under her lashes. It was an age-old argument between them. When he offered to come back into her life, she had sent him away, wanting to protect him. When the tables had turned, he had done the same. They both had their own battles to fight and neither wanted to risk the other. But someday… they would have their someday. She felt it. She hugged him tightly, her feelings of hurt dissipating now that she was back in his arms again. She knew how it had to be, and logically she agreed. It was just hard at times to accept.

“You're here now, and I get you to myself for two days.” He murmured against her hair, leaning back away from her to look down at her face. 

She followed him the small distance, sliding her flat palms up over the lapels of his coat. Two days would be more than they had had in almost as many years. She couldn't help but smile, “True.”

“And I do have something you can help me with.” He whispered against her lips, bending to kiss her again, brushing her mouth lightly.

Rising to her tiptoes, she twined her arms around his neck and pressed her body against his. Her lips curving upward in a smile, she rocked forward on her toes, rolling her hips slightly. “I think I feel your something.” 

His response to her was flame-hot, honed after hours of teasing kisses and caresses in the car, not to mention months apart. His erection surged higher, harder between them.

“Hold me.” Buffy murmured, melting into him. The clean scent of him, the faintest trace of familiar cologne drifted to her nostrils. No matter how much time went by, some things never changed. He was everything she remembered and more. And, more than ever, she wanted him. Nothing mattered in that moment except feeling him again. 

Angel tightened his arms around her, his own hips moving subtly in a natural, instinctive answering rhythm to her own. 

“Angel, I need to feel you...” Her voice was liquid heat as her fingers slid into his hair, tugging his face down to hers. God, he felt good... strong, big, muscled… and really hard.

Her kiss was warm and sweet, lush with welcome and with promise. 

He ran his palms down her back. After their short two days here, he didn't know when he would taste the sweetness of her kiss or feel the soft warmth of her body against his. The odds against him at Wolfram and Hart were high… This one meeting was risky enough. Still, the feel of her burned through his clothes - her breasts, her hips, her thighs - reminding him off all the pleasures that they had shared. Of how much he needed her. How much he loved her.

“I love you…” She whispered against his lips, her breath warm. Being in his arms - was comfort and joy and security, but most of all, it was love and flame-hot, eager, desperate desire.

Suddenly, his hands came up and cupped the back of her head. He kissed her with a hard, possessive kiss that told her of the depth of his feelings.  Fueled by pent-up frustration at their separation, he invaded her mouth as he planned to invade her body - hard, fierce, urgent.

Buffy answered his impatience with her own blazing passion. She welcomed his kiss with a wild reckless abandon, her happiness in that moment unsurpassed. She wanted his strength and virility, she wanted the unadulterated bliss of making love with him, she wanted him… forever.

She pushed his coat back over his shoulders impatiently.

“I can't wait.” Angel muttered, shaking his arms free and dropping the heavy wool duster to the floor behind them. As much as he had planned a romantic and leisurely reunion in the soft king size bed, he was past waiting. Bending, he lifted her into his arms with effortless strength. He swept the vase of roses off the small foyer table with a quick sweep of his arm. It tumbled to the floor, the impact lessened by the thick carpeting, although in his current state of mind, he would have been indifferent to the sound of the crystal shattering.

A shiver raced down Buffy's spine; his sheer power was intoxicating. But then, everything about him was intoxicating - from the top of his spiky hair to the bottom of his perfect feet. She had wanted to giggle when he told her he had grown his hair over the summer, but obviously he had cut it again. She wondered briefly if it had anything to do with her saying how much she loved the spikes and how sexy she thought they were…

He sat her on the rich honey colored polished wood, his lips returning to hers with unrestrained passion. The mirror behind her rattled as she leaned back, bumping into the wall.

“I haven't forgotten a single thing about you.” He whispered against her cheek as his fingers worked swiftly to open the toggles of the pink wool coat she wore.

“I may have forgotten a few things about you.” Buffy mused teasingly, her hands impatiently reaching for the buttons on his shirt.

“Then let me remind you.” His long fingers now worked dexterously at the tiny buttons of her top. Under the circumstances, he thought he was remarkably controlled - he was seriously considered simply ripping the pink cashmere from her.

“I'd like that.” She ran the palm of one hand over his chest, stopping to tweak the tan nipple that peeked out from behind the wine colored silk.

“I promise you that you will.” Angel slipped a fingertip under the strap of her black lace bra. The balconette style bra was cut so low that her breasts appeared to be almost spilling out over the top, the rosy pink of her aureoles just visible. 

“Very sexy.” He murmured as his fingers swept over the taut peaks of her nipples through the sheer lace. Maybe not that controlled… He took a deep restraining breath.

“I know I will,” Buffy replied, her eyes half closed as he tweaked one hard nipple. “I love everything you do to me. How you touch me. How you taste. How you feel.” 

Her words sent a jolt straight to his erection, heated memories of past times together flooding his senses. 

Impatient again, Angel moved forward, parting her thighs and shoving her skirt up higher. Her black stiletto heeled boots bumped against his shins as her legs swung with his abrupt movement.

“Let me see what you remember.” His smile was wicked as he reached between her legs to slip his fingers under the tiny black lace thong she wore. 

“I remember that.” Buffy purred with a smile, closing her eyes as his fingers stroked her wet and swollen flesh with deft expertise. Rocking slightly, she tugged her skirt up further, exposing the black lace fully to his gaze.

With a groan, Angel struggled with his belt and the zipper on his pants. 

Eagerly, she reached out to help, pushing his pants down his thighs. Her eyes opened and she smiled, “Commando, baby?” 

“What can I say? I knew you'd be coming.” Angel smirked at the double entendre, his dark eyes inches away and smiling into hers as she gripped the hard length of his erection, stroking him with firm, sure movements.

Lifting her thighs over his forearms, he grabbed her hips and pulled her to the very edge of the table. Pulling aside the tiny scrap of lace, his erection nudged the slick wetness between her legs before sliding inside the smallest distance.

Buffy sighed softly, her breath catching in her throat as he pushed forward again.

Every muscle in his body tensed as Angel cautioned himself to move slow and easy when those two words were actually the furthest thing from his mind. He moved another inch forward and stopped, surveying her under his lashes.  Buffy's clothing was askew, her pink jacket and sweater pushed aside revealing the black lace bra, which now only partially covered her breasts. Her black skirt was wadded up around her waist, the black lace of her thong pulled to one side exposing her nearly bare feminine flesh to his eager gaze, and her booted feet dangled over his arms. Her eyes were closed, her wet lips slightly parted as she panted softly. Her cheeks were flushed and her long hair was tousled in disarray. He couldn't remember a time when she looked better.

“More… Angel… now…” She said in a soft breathy sigh. Her lashes fluttered, and she opened her eyes. Her hands were clinging tightly to his shoulders as she writhed slightly against him. “Please, baby… it's been too long.” 

With another thrust, he sank further into her wet heat until he was partially submerged. His cock was so hard, it was aching. Still, he wanted to savor this moment. 

She leaned away from him, arching her back and wriggling her hips so that she sank down on him further. She mewled softly, lifting her legs from his arms to wrap around his hips. She was wet, so very wet, he could feel the lush profusion of liquid heat run along his leg.

He gave in then to the ramming speed mentality hovering at the edge of his brain. 

Flexing his legs, he drove forward and buried himself to the hilt. He felt her clench around him as the heated pleasure of her vibrated through his entire body. With his cock completely embedded in her, paradise was no longer just an abstract concept. She was his heaven, his paradise, his very source of rapture. She was his very definition of home.

Long moments later when the racing tumult of his brain had marginally subsided, and he regained a semblance of control, he began to move.

Buffy uttered soft sounds of pleasure, arching her back and rocking her hips to meet his steady pounding rhythm. With a deft twist of her hips, she gave him a pleasurable jolt that seemed to reverberate all the way from where their bodies were joined up his entire spine.

Gripping her bottom, his fingers splayed wide, he pulled her forward and thrust into her, hard.

Buffy gasped, her breath catching in her throat as the wild acute feeling raced toward the inevitable climax.

“I love you.” Angel whispered raggedly, dragging her forward with each ramming thrust. 

Buffy melted around him as he plunged deeper, harder into her body. Perversely, his lack of control gave her pleasure beyond compare. She loved to see the wild, animalistic side of him, the side that he kept so tightly under control and guarded. 

“Fuck me…” She purred, provoking him further. Every nerve in her body was screaming for release, desire burning through her body and brain.

“I'll fuck you all night…” Angel fairly growled in reply, temptation and unbridled lust surging with increased force at the velvety soft yet blatantly carnal entreaty in her voice.  

“Oh God, yes…” She mewled, reaching up with one hand to sink her fingers into this hair. 

With barely suppressed violence, he jerked her forward and kissed her hard.

Buffy's nails dug into his back through his shirt as they continued to move with fevered abandon. The small table rocked and slammed repeatedly into the wall, until Angel scooped Buffy into his arms and braced her instead against the door. 

When she came, her wild cry echoed through the room. And then she came again because he didn't stop, and once more because he insisted on pushing her body to greater heights with the feverish reckless abandon that often characterized their mating.  

Even then, after he climaxed, he knew he hadn't had enough. With her clinging to him limply, he adjusted his clothing only enough to get them to the bedroom without tripping over his pants. 

The reciprocal undressing took a while, despite clothing already half off or in disarray, as each article was removed with meticulous attention to detail. She helped him and he helped her, stopping often to exchange kisses or caresses or nibbles on recently exposes patches of skin. Words of love were shared in whispers, adding to the heightened sensations and feelings of intimacy.

“Mmm… yessss….”  Buffy murmured softly as she lowered herself onto his erection with lingering slowness. She smiled at him as he wrapped his arms around her, rocking her gently. “And I remember this…” 

“I hope so,” he murmured in reply, breathing in the sweet scent of her. With a smile, he tucked a wild strand of hair behind her ear.

She leaned forward to kiss him then, the tips of breasts brushing across his chest, her knees grazing his ribs. Her body was hot from the tempestuous fever of passion as she moved over him in a steady bewitching rhythm. 

Bracing her hands on his shoulders as she moved, she studied him under her lashes. She delighted in the rasps of pleasure that she wrung from his lips with each provocative move of her hips, finding pleasure in the fact that he was as compelled and as needy as she. It gave her a glorious sense of ownership, as if he belonged to her alone in these rare moments. 

Sliding her fingers through his dark hair, she leaned forward to nibble at his bottom lip. His hands came up to cup her breasts, teasing the taut peaks of her nipples with firm twists and gentle tugs. 

Buffy writhed on him, lifting and lowering herself with steadily increasing speed. 

Angel reached between them to where their bodies were joined to find the swollen nub of Buffy's clitoris. As he manipulated it with his fingers, Buffy arched backward, trembling on the brink of ecstasy so intense she thought she might shatter into tiny pieces. Panting and breathless, she moaned; a tiny opulent sound of pleasure. 

Angel's low throaty growl was an adjunct to the rhythm of her body; his need was as excruciating as hers. Bracing his feet, he pushed his hips upward to meet her as she plunged down.  

Clinging to his shoulders, Buffy cried out in blissful ecstasy as they exploded together in scorching, cataclysmic release. 

“You make me happy, Angel.” She whispered against his shoulder, satiated for the moment. Contentment was too tame of a word to describe the depth or strength of her feelings. 

“You're my happiness and my joy,” Angel murmured in reply, listening to the erratic beating of her heart pounding against his chest. His lips curved up in a smile. He could stay with her in their isolation indefinitely.

“Well, for two days at least.” She said without opening her eyes. Instantly she wished she could take back the words, wanting no reminder of the short time they had. 

“No,” He admonished softly, opening his eyes and hugging her close as he brushed a kiss on her hair, “for always in my heart...” 

In the heated bliss of the next two days, they both lost track of time and refused to think of anything beyond Christmas day and the end of their passionate holiday.

***

He kissed her gently as they lay beside the fire, enjoying the fire and the fading day. 

“We have to go soon.” He whispered, stroking her hair. He was mentally calculating the time it would take to get to the airport so Buffy could catch her flight back to England. She was staying with Giles and the others as the former Watcher worked to rebuild the council and find Watchers for the activated Slayers. 

She nodded against his chest, but otherwise didn't stir. 

“I don't want you to miss your flight.” He sighed regretfully, tucking her closer.

“I know. I wish we didn't have to go.” Buffy replied sadly, her words muffled against his skin.

He gently touched her cheek. “I'm sorry.” 

“I understand.” She tilted her head back and looked up at him then. “And it's not forever, right?”

“No.” He brushed a kiss across her lips, wanting to believe more than anything that he wasn't lying to her. “You'll come back to me.” 

She was so quiet for a moment that he wondered if he had said something wrong.

“I… hope so, Angel.” Her distress was plain. 

“You will.” He insisted adamantly, gathering her tightly in his arms. His eyes burned into hers intently, demanding that she believe him. 

“I…” Buffy's eyes filled with tears. She wasn't sure what the future would hold for either of them. She might lose him to one of Wolfram and Hart's malicious schemes, she might lose him to some other evil that he faced as part of his quest for redemption, she might lose him again to his own assessment of his lack of self-worth, or, she might just lose him anyway. Nothing was certain. Sadness filled her so completely she thought she might suffocate. 

Always before she thought having these moments together made the heart break of their separation bearable, but now she wasn't so sure. Days, weeks, and finally months would pass and she would get closer to learning how to cope without him, then she would see him, she would be able to touch him and love him and she would be reminded again of what she didn't have. And once more, her heart was ripped asunder. She would again be left feeling bereft, abandoned and empty.

“I love you, Buffy.” He brushed a kiss across her temple. He could still feel the tension in her body. She was pulling away from him emotionally, and it pained him like nothing else did or could. “You know nothing will ever change that.” 

“I love you.” She murmured, kissing him softly before moving from his embrace and sitting up, separating herself before she burst into tears. He had too much to worry about right now; she didn't need to be another burden.

“Call me. When it's safe and when you can.” She said, forcing a calmness to her voice that she didn't feel. She stood, moving across the room to gather her things. She didn't even want to shower yet and wash away the feel of him from her skin. 

“I will.” He stood, the perfection of his tall form silhouetted by the firelight. The lights and ornaments from the Christmas tree twinkled behind him, their cheerful sight incongruous to the feelings of dread filling her.

Would she ever see him again? She wondered, as studied him, trying to etch this moment in her mind. Would she ever taste his kiss or see his smile? His hair was mussed from their earlier lovemaking, and she ached to bury her fingers in the thick mass. Instead, she turned away.

“You make it all worth it, you know.” He moved toward her, slipping his arms around her waist. He'd known her long enough to know what was going through her head; what they both thought each and every time they met and then had to part. It tore him apart too. But this time… this time was different. He could feel it. Things were changing now. He knew, more than ever, that they would someday have their life together. How or why, he couldn't say. But as far as feelings went… he knew. Their future, their time together… it was coming. He just couldn't say the words, too afraid of jinxing it somehow. 

They made love one last time, sweetly, tenderly. Lingering for almost two hours past when they should have left because they couldn't seem to bring themselves to leave. 

The conversation on the drive back to Los Angeles was limited, both of them aware of the end of another all too brief sojourn. Instead, they held hands and listened to the music on the radio.

“I'm sorry,” Angel said, holding her in his arms one last time just outside LAX. He couldn't quite bring himself to let her go. 

“I understand,” Buffy replied, closing her eyes and rubbing her cheek against his chest. 

“Thank you for arranging all of this.” She forced a smile as she looked up at his face. 

Angel sighed at the inevitable and released her. “I wanted to see you,” he said softly, “And I'll miss you.” 

Buffy smile wavered at the poignant feeling of loss his words evoked. “I'll miss you too.” Picking up her bags, she turned and walked into the airport without a backward glance.

They never said goodbye; that was part of the deal. 

With a heavy feeling in his heart, Angel returned to the Range Rover. There would no doubt be questions as to his whereabouts when he returned to Wolfram and Hart, and he didn't look forward to coming up with excuses and explanations. 

Glancing back one last time at the doorway where Buffy had disappeared, Angel smiled faintly. “Soon, love. I promise.” 

*End*

Stolen Moments – All That Matters

She knew about it almost the same time it happened. That was just the way things were with apocalypses, or near apocalypses - at least for those in the know about such things. One could happen anywhere in the world, and she'd sense it, somehow.  Her initial alarm and panic had turned quickly to hurt that he hadn't called, particularly given the circumstances. Gradually, the hurt had turned to anger; anger that he hadn't bothered to call, anger that his pride demanded that he face this thing on his own with only the help of a few friends close at hand, and anger at her own helplessness to do anything other than wait. 

Now, little more than three months later, she was simply numb. She knew Wes hadn't survived. Along with Giles, she had attended the somber memorial that was held for him in June at the lovely St. Agatha's Church in Portsmouth. She had heard, too, about Gunn's death.  But of Angel, Spike, and Illyria there had been no word, nothing at all to give her any indication of their fate. 

Until today. 

When Dawn handed her the letter, she had not been prepared for the impact that it would have on her. To see it on this warm summer day took her back to Christmas and to their bittersweet farewell in the Los Angeles airport almost nine months ago, their last time together in a lifetime of moments all too brief. 

She felt it all again - the love, the sadness, the tremulous hope, and the fear that holding such hope would prove fruitless, along with the potent wash of memories. 

She stared at the envelope, studying each graceful curve and bold line of her address, recognizing the elegant, flowing script. Her hand trembled slightly as she held the slightly smudged, worn paper, the memory of him coming to her so strongly that she felt as though he had reached out and touched her. 

Forcing a smile, Buffy turned and walked into her bedroom, suddenly needing to be away from her sister's curious gaze. She leaned heavily on the closed door, closing her eyes and sucking in a deep breath of air.  She was deeply grateful that he was alive. Rumors of his defeat at Wolfram & Hart's hands had never been substantiated, though recently it had been confirmed that the LA branch of W&H had been shut down. He had been victorious in that endeavor at least, and she was pleased for him. 

As she read the letter, her eyes welled with tears. She hadn't thought that anything could hurt so badly after all they had been through, but she was wrong. A sharp, piercing pain ripped through her, even as she tried to remind herself that theirs had never been a sensible relationship. She had always known in the back of her mind that they might never get their lifetime together, that a few stolen moments here and there might be all they would ever have. He could die and she might never seem him again. She had prepared herself for that many times over, especially during these last few months. She had not, however, prepared herself for his desertion. 

She read the letter again then carefully refolded it, put it back in the envelope, and tucked it in the drawer alongside the scant few other letters he had sent her earlier this year, the last only a brief note penned sometime in March. Absently, she picked up one of the pillows off the bed and hugged it tightly to her chest as the tears began to flow unchecked. 

Faith knocked on the door, but didn't wait for an answer before she opened it. Gossip about the letter, and the identity of its sender, had spread like wildfire through the small apartment building that a few of the former Sunnydale residents now called home. 

"He's alive?" she asked, crossing the polished wood floor quickly to come to sit beside Buffy on the bed. Only recently had she become privy to the fact that her sister Slayer had continued a relationship with the ensouled vampire these last few years, though Buffy had not been forthcoming with details. 

"Yes," Buffy whispered, tears streaming down her face. "He's alive." 

"Then he's coming here, right?" Faith asked flatly. She, too, had grieved over the thought of Angel's demise. He had helped her when everyone else had thought she was beyond saving, and he had convinced her that she could make a difference; she owed him a great deal - and, of course, she cared about the big lug. He was like the big brother she never had. 

"No. He's… still in LA. With Nina." Buffy's voice was filled with hurt.

"Nina? Who the hell is that?" Faith asked, surprised.  

"I don't know exactly. Someone he met at Wolfram & Hart."  Buffy sniffed and wiped her eyes. 

Four months.  He'd left her for someone else four months ago, and she hadn't even known. No wonder the letters stopped in April - that must have been when they met. No wonder he hadn't called about his big battle when it finally came in May. He'd probably already forgotten her by then. And it was no wonder that there had been no word from him after the battle. He had Nina, whoever that was.  

Typical male, Faith thought with a snort, though she was honestly surprised to be thinking that about Angel. Prior to that moment, she would have bet her life that the vampire would never abandon Buffy for someone else. Duty perhaps, or some misguided, but noble, belief that he was doing what was best for her, yes. Someone else, never. "Are you sure?" she questioned with a frown. "Maybe you misunderstood what he said." 

"I don't think so… 'I've been seeing someone. Her name is Nina.' is pretty hard to misinterpret," Buffy said morosely. 

"Maybe he just slipped up. You know, a mistake. We all do from time to time, as you know," Faith countered with a pointed look. "He's only human - or not," she amended at Buffy's look. "But maybe that's even more of a reason, the ole' vamp libido… Hey, I'm sorry. But you guys have been apart a long time… It was probably just a physical gratification thing, and it meant nothing to him."

"Maybe," Buffy muttered with a shrug. "But it sounds like he's still seeing her now. That makes it more than just a… slip up... or a physical gratification thing." 

"So what are you going to do?" 

Buffy sighed, her eyes glistening with fresh tears. "Let him go, I guess." 

The voices in the apartment were growing louder as several of the SITs and Andrew had gathered with Dawn in the living room, all bubbling with curiosity about the latest gossip. Had the infamous vampire really survived the battle? And Spike - was he alive, had Buffy heard? Had Buffy really been involved with both vampires once? What had happened in Los Angeles? Had there really been a flying dragon? 

"Tell you what, B. Why don't I get rid of the nosy bunch out there," Faith offered, dropping the subject. "And then tonight you and I can go out and kick some demon ass. Nothing beats slaying to work out some emotional angst." 

Buffy reread Angel's letter one last time after Faith and the others left, desperately wanting to believe his simple words of love, but finding the sad reality of his commitment to duty closer to the truth. She had been incredibly naïve about him, about the possibility of a future for them, and about love being something that conquered all. 

Even though she doubted that he was expecting it, after a while, she sat down and wrote a reply. He would always be in her heart, a part of her, and she couldn't completely just sever her life from his even if she wanted to. She wrote to him about the beauty of the city she now called home, about Giles considering reforming the Watcher's Council, and about the SITs. She told him of her love and concern for him, in phrases similar to his, then went on to describe her life and slaying in Rome. It's less challenging than life on the hell mouth, she said, and peaceful by comparison, no doubt, to a life at Wolfram & Hart.  She closed by wishing him peace and happiness, a sad acceptance that this was the truly the end for them pervading her mind.  

I think of you everyday, and still wear the Claddagh ring that you gave me, she had written, and now that she reread the letter she wondered if she should have left that out. He might not appreciate the reminder of their past commitments to each other or of her continuing affections now that he was involved with someone else. 

I want to sincerely thank you for everything, she added in a postscript, her tone more formal.  He had, after all, been the financial benefactor that had helped them all get back on their feet after the destruction of Sunnydale. 

As a final impulse, she added: I am deeply grateful for all that you have brought to my life.

She signed it, My love to you always, Buffy, then sealed it and dropped it in the post on her way out to meet Faith. 

And then she got on with her life, because that was the only thing that she knew how to do. 

***

The first month or so after the battle, Angel, Spike and Illyria had held up in the Hyperion simply too battered and physically exhausted to do little more than survive.  

In July, the trio met with Cedric Bensen, the new liaison for the Senior Partners at Wolfram & Hart, to discuss some sort of resolution. After all, Angel was still President and CEO of the Los Angeles branch of Wolfram & Hart, a position that the Board of Directors could have filled with their chosen replacement in the case of Angel's demise. Instead, they were stuck with a potentially messy legal entanglement, and they disliked loose ends and messy legal entanglements.  The negotiations dragged on for weeks, as Angel was unyielding on several points initially laid out in the term sheet. 

On August 18, the agreement was finally signed. The Los Angeles branch of Wolfram & Hart was officially declared defunct and Angel, Spike, and Illyria, as well as a dozen or so others that Angel specifically named, were free of any and all obligations related to the law firm.  Even the 'special' contracts for those named had been unearthed and voided, a first in W&H history.  Cedric, in summarizing the negotiations for the Senior Partners, wrote that Angel was the most brutal fellow and toughest negotiator that he had ever met. Was there really no possibility of keeping him on staff?  

The question was met with disdain. For now, the Senior Partners wanted to hear nothing more of the vampire and that was that. 

~

"I'm leaving LA," Angel announced one night in late September to Spike and Illyria, wiping the blood from his sword off on the now-dead demon that lay prostrate at his feet. They had taken to patrolling the streets and back alleys as a way to stave off the boredom and restlessness that they all had begun to feel now that they were healthy and whole again. 

"I'm due for a change in scenery myself. Never intended to stay here in Los Angeles as long as I did anyway, as you well know," Spike replied with a bit of a smirk. "And I'm sure Blue here would be open to seeing a bit more of the world."

Illyria glanced over her shoulder, her blue eyes wide. "We would leave this place? Where would we go?" 

"I don't think… you don't have to go with me,." Angel answered as he dropped from the street into the sewer access. 

"I know, but I think it's time. Never liked LA much anyway," Spike stated matter-of-factly, waiting as first Illyria, then he followed Angel into the dank tunnel. "And yeah, where were you thinking of going?" 

"I'm not sure," Angel slowly replied, his life of late without purpose, direction or joy. He had thought that he would feel more vindicated at the absolution of the LA Wolfram & Hart holdings, but instead the victory felt almost empty. He had won this battle, but he knew the war was far from over; the Senior Partners were simply taking time to regroup. 

"Taking dog girl along, are we?" Spike asked as he struck a match against the wall to light his cigarette.  Angel's cool detachment around the woman was so discernable, he wondered if the dark vampire actually ever said more than a few words to her, even in bed.

"No," Angel said with a grimace. He'd seen Nina a few times in the last month or so, still disturbed by the rumors earlier that year about Buffy and The Immortal, brooding over the possibility that she had found someone else, and guilty, too, of his desertion of her, and the ploy that he had felt necessary in order to convince the Senior Partners that he had been evil.  And with Nina eager for his attention, it had been almost too easy to fall into a casual relationship with her. It didn't assuage his guilt for using her as he had; rather it made it worse, as well as convinced him more that he was unworthy of any relationship with Buffy. 

"She will not be happy if you leave," Illyria commented flatly. She had seen the blonde woman at the Hyperion several times and knew of her interest in Angel, even though the two women interacted very little. 

"Understatement, that," Spike added with a wry smile as he took a drag on his cigarette. 

"I told her last time I saw her that I was leaving. That I wouldn't see her again." 

"Ah, that would explain the shouts and hysterics of the other day then," Spike noted bluntly, blowing a puff of smoke in the air. He had known as much even before he asked his question, but then he always liked needling the older vampire. They walked in silence for another block or so before Spike spoke again. With a sidelong glance at Angel, he asked, "So, we're finally going to Rome then." 

Angel didn't say anything for a long moment. When he finally turned to glance at the blonde vampire, his expression was shuttered. "I don't know if she would want to see me. I wrote her and told her the truth… about everything." 

"Even Fido?" 

At Angel's disgruntled look and reluctant nod, Spike gave a low whistle. "That was either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid." He paused briefly as if considering before amending his statement, "I'll have to go with stupid."

Angel cast an annoyed glance at Spike but remained silent as they continue on their way back to the hotel. 

"You should go." The words came surprisingly from Illyria, who stopped to look directly at Angel. "You should not continue to live a lie."  It was one of the things that she had learned from Wesley before he died, and she had taken the words to heart, at least as much as she was able. His death flashed through her mind along with Fred's memories, and for a brief instant she felt the pain of his loss. "You wish to be with someone else, and she is mortal. Therefore, your time with her is already limited."  

"As much as I hate to say it, I'd have to agree,." Spike offered with a lift of his brows. 

Angel scoffed faintly as he glanced at the blonde vampire. "I can't believe you'd agree, particularly on this subject and not after our trip to Rome earlier this year."

"I can't either, so don't be expecting it to happen again," Spike retorted with a wry grin. He'd known about Buffy and Angel's secret meetings and ongoing relationship for quite some time, thanks to his vampiric senses, though it wasn't something that either vampire ever mentioned, much less discussed. Given the circumstances their lives, Spike could understand why they had tried to keep it hidden. "We could be on our way within a few days, if you want. There's got to be a freighter leaving LA in a week or so, two tops. Though it's too bad we don't still have the jet. Damn convenient that."

Angel was silent for a moment, his fingers flexing on the sword he still gripped in his hand, his mind whirling with a host of uncertainties. Buffy may have forgotten all about him and moved on by now. The rumors about her relationship with The Immortal might be true. Even if they weren't, she might not want to see him, given his faithlessness.  After several minutes of deliberation, he made up his mind.  Buffy was better off without him; he'd known that since the very beginning. He had hurt her time and again, of that there was no question. Now he had an opportunity to make things right. By staying out of her life, he could give her the chance at the normal life she deserved. 

"Not Rome," he finally replied. "Maybe Argentina, it's been a long time since I've been there." 

Spike sighed. "Your mistake, mate." Tossing the butt of his cigarette to the ground, he walked away. Illyria contemplated Angel silently for a moment before she too turned and walked away. 

~

Arrangements were made, and within a week, the trio would embark on their journey on the freighter, Reederei F. Laeisz. After about 10 days at sea, they'd reach Buenos Aires, and then decide where to go from there.

Angel was packing when Spike walked into the room waving an envelope and saying in a sing-song voice that someone got a letter from Rome. It had apparently been delivered to the now abandoned offices of W&H, where it had been sitting for quite some time. Luckily for him, Spike said cheerfully as he withheld the letter from Angel's grasp, he had decided to make one last farewell pass through the building; a reminder, if you will, of what they had accomplished. And, okay, he admitted at Angel's skeptical look, he was checking to see if there was anything of value left behind. After finally handing the ivory envelope over, he dropped into a casual sprawl on the sofa and watched Angel pointedly, clearly indicating that he planned to stay until the letter was read.

Apprehensively, the dark haired vampire opened the envelope and began to read. Though the words were carefully phrased, he knew from her words that she still loved him, despite everything. He was at once comforted and oddly hopeful. He realized in that moment, reading what she had written, that his life without Buffy was merely existing. She filled his heart and warmed his very soul; her love had changed him. How had he managed to convince himself that he could live without her?  

Placing the letter in his pocket against his heart, he strode toward the phone only to stop short. He couldn't possibly explain the past months over the phone. 

"It was good news, I take it?" Spike called from across the room, watching his grand sire with a somewhat bemused expression. 

Angel glanced back over his shoulder. "How long will it take to get to Rome?" 

***

The next 40 days were interminably long. Unable to sleep more than a few hours each day, Angel often paced restlessly around the small hold in the ship, driving Spike and Illyria nearly insane. When they reached Hamburg, the port of call for the freighter, they stayed only long enough to procure a car and fresh blood, before heading for Italy. 

When they finally reached Rome, it was late November. They rented rooms at the Splendide Royal, near the city center. Angel showered and changed, then changed again, then chastised himself for feeling like an adolescent about to go on his first date. Still, he made a third attempt to tame the unruly mass of his hair, and exchanged his shirt one last time, exchanging the heavy black silk for a fine grey cotton one in hopes that it would make him appear less somber and dark.  Donning his black leather jacket, he headed out toward Buffy's apartment.  

As he crossed the Via Vittorio Veneto, he again doubted his sanity. Her letter had been dated over two months ago, and they had been separated for almost a year…  She could still be with The Immortal now... or someone else. If she were, he certainly couldn't blame her; it would be just retaliation after his abandonment of her and his confession about his involvement with Nina.

Less than half an hour later, the man who had fearlessly led his team into a completely unmatched battle against the Senior Partners, stood nervously outside his girlfriend's door and attempted to work up the courage to knock. Without warning, the door swung open, and he came face to face with the woman that he had come a great distance to see. 

Buffy gasped and stumbled back in surprise. She wasn't expecting anyone to be standing at her door, much less the dark figure waiting there now. 

"Angel?" she breathed incredulously. Seconds later she was in his arms, and they were kissing and hugging with a desperate joy. 

"I can't believe you're here," she whispered, clinging to his shoulders tightly. She had given up completely on the idea that she would see him again. A sense of unguarded happiness pervaded her senses, temporarily displacing any thoughts of hurt or anger that may have been lingering. 

"Nothing could keep me away," he returned, smiling down at her. Here, with her in his arms, the months of doubt and guilt and indecision that had, in fact, kept him away, were forgotten. 

A small crowd had begun to gather around them in the hallway, the SITs staring curiously, Dawn grinning happily, and Andrew looking guilty and ill-tempered. Faith was out, or she would have been there as well - no doubt with a few choice words for Angel, beginning by chastising him for his negligence in letting them know that he was alive.

With some reluctance, Buffy made the necessary introductions, curiously noting Andrew's peevish expression, before sending them all away and inviting Angel into her apartment. She gave Dawn a pointed look, and the young brunette excused herself to go to Amelia's down the hall. 

After the door closed, Buffy and Angel stood in silence for a long moment simply staring into each other's eyes, hands held tight. 

"Tell me everything," she said finally, drawing back from him in order to clear her mind. "How was the battle? Why didn't you call? Where have you been? Why did you decide to come? I didn't expect to see you again."

He smiled at her rambling questions, reminded of how much he had missed it and missed her. "I love you. I'd come for you no matter where you were. How could you doubt that?" 

"Your letter," she said softly. "And Nina." 

"I had to take care of some things in LA. It just took a lot longer than I had hoped... And Nina… I'm sorry." How could he adequately explain away his guilt? "If I had thought that there had been another way… it would have never happened." 

"The battle with Wolfram & Hart… it's over then?" Her voice was flat. She wasn't sure if she could just accept his apology or his excuse. It had been hard enough to accept his one night of sex with Eve thanks to the magic of Lorne's suggestions, but after no small number of tears and a few dozen demons slain to work off the pain, she had.  But Nina… that was something else entirely. It was more than one night; forgiveness required more consideration. 

"It is for me, for now. I'll tell you everything about that - later. I don't want to think about Wolfram & Hart, or the Senior Partners, or anything about that last battle right now," he replied. "Tell me about you. And The Immortal." He could tell that she was angry and hurt, though he had expected as much. What he had not expected was his inability to control his jealousy.

Her eyes widened. "The Immortal?" 

"Yes, The Immortal." His voice was whisper soft as he read guilt into her reaction.

"How did you know?" she asked. She had the grace to look disconcerted. 

"Andrew." 

"Andrew?" She echoed, her eyebrows lifting in surprise.

"I was here in May on an errand. We - Spike and I - came by to see you. Andrew said you were out with The Immortal. We went to a club that the two of were supposed to be at, the bartender there knew you. She said that you and The Immortal were lovers. Since we missed you there, we came back here to see you, and Andrew made it a point of saying that you had moved on." 

"And did you believe him - Andrew - about all of that?" she questioned mildly, crossing her arms over her chest. Now that she thought about it, it would explain Andrew's expression earlier upon seeing the dark vampire at her door. He never liked Angel, instead idolizing Spike and telling her that he was the one she should be with. And, of course, Andrew had caused trouble before earlier in the year during the trip to LA to pick up Dana by lying to Angel and telling him that she no longer trusted him. At least in that particular instance, they had managed to clear things up with a phone call. 

He hesitated a moment before he answered. "Yes." 

"Is that why you slept with Nina then? A retaliation fuck?" she questioned heatedly, her temper rising.  

He didn't have an answer for her. Instead, he jammed his hands in his pockets and studied the pattern on the carpet on the floor. He had been resentful and jealous when he returned from Rome.  If he were honest with himself, he would have to admit that it had played into his decision. Believing that Buffy had slept with someone else made it easier to justify his involvement with Nina, something he considered necessary in convincing the Senior Partners that he had gone to the dark side. 

"I hate to break the news to you, but Andrew isn't an authority on my life, sexual or otherwise. All Andrew knows is that The Immortal was a friend of mine." 

Angel snorted softly at the ridiculous notion, knowing the man in question as he did. "The Immortal doesn't have friends, Sweetheart, especially beautiful female friends. But if you're just friends, then he won't mind if I don't let him fuck you again." 

Buffy eyes blazed angrily for a moment. "I'm not one of your minions, or one of your employees, or even one of your fawning females that you can order around." 

"Then tell me that The Immortal was just a platonic acquaintance." His voice was laced with sarcasm, his expression foreboding.

She looked away, running her hand over her hair. She knew it would come to this eventually, but she hadn't realized how hard it would be. Many times over she had rehearsed in her head what she would say, but now, faced with the eventuality, the words seemed to have disappeared.  

Taking a deep breath, she looked back at him. "I… um… oh god, this is harder than I ever imagined… It was only once. I never meant for it to happen at all, even then, but it did…" 

His head came up, his jaw clamped shut and her stared at her with dark, intense eyes.

"I'd only had a word or two from you in months. There was that whole trust thing with Andrew, and then that ugly mess with Giles not helping with Illyria… and then one of the few times we were actually able to talk, it was because you called to confess what happened with Eve. Not exactly the best of circumstances, you have to admit," she offered with a contrite shrug of her shoulders. 

"And The Immortal… he was…" she paused struggling for words to describe the complexity of the man in question. "He… he was gorgeous and worldly and so attentive. We went out a few times… dancing, dinner, and it was fun. He talked about knowing you. I guess because I missed you, I wanted to hear his stories; I wanted to hear about you - even as Angelus. One night things went a little father than I thought they would… and I…  I had sex with him. I… it happened only once. I wouldn't see him again after that. I think in some ways it was just a game to him, that he was interested in me because he knew about you and about us." 

She took a deep breath, struggling to put her emotions in some semblance of order. 

"So, I can't exactly throw stones about Nina… but it still hurts, you know. Once, I could have understood, or somehow rationalized. Once. But you went to her after… you didn't even call me to let me know that you were alive. Instead you went to her." 

Silence hung between them for a long moment. 

"I'm sorry, Buffy, if that helps. Very sorry," Angel said quietly. Their separate lives had been difficult, this last year particularly so. "I understand… about The Immortal. It doesn't mean I like it, but I can understand it." He smiled faintly, apologetically. 

"I'm sorry, too," Buffy murmured softly. She would take it back if she could, but she didn't say so due to a lingering resentment of Nina. 

"I should have called you. Hell, I should have come to you long before now. But I… I wasn't thinking too clearly after everything that happened. I hating using Nina - she didn't deserve it. But even more, I hated hurting you. The more that I knew that I hurt you, the less I thought I deserved you."  

"And so you were going to just leave me?"  Buffy asked with a lift of her brows. "Oh, because we know that doesn't hurt."  The sarcasm was prevalent in her tone.

He looked away. 

"Angel…" she began more softly.  "We've talked about this before, and you know I hate it when you say that. If you love me as much as you say you do, then don't I deserve that?" 

Angel didn't answer for a moment, thinking over her words and the many conversations in the past that they had had on this topic. He returned his gaze to her face. "You deserve more than that." 

"Maybe. Maybe not." Buffy said with a small shrug. It was an old argument; they might never agree, and she was too emotionally fragile right now to start it up again. Even more importantly perhaps, she didn't want to start it up again now.  "So, where do we go from here?" 

"I was actually just thinking about that…" He took a step toward her. They had both made mistakes, but now they had an opportunity to start anew. He wasn't about to let that slip through his fingers without a fight. 

"And?" 

"And I was thinking your bedroom. I can show you how sorry I am, and we can make up properly. Then we can make up for all the days and nights that I haven't been able to hold you in my arms."  His smile was shameless. 

"Angel." She admonished, her lips curving up in a smile. "You think that we'll just make love, and everything will be all right?" 

"It's a start," he shrugged, taking another step closer and holding out his hand. "And I thought it would be better than making love on your living room floor, but I'm more than willing..." 

"I have missed you," she offered, glancing up at him seriously. "But it doesn't solve our problems. If we're going to do this, I want to do it right this time. No more sneaking around. I don't want to have to hide or pretend. I want to make a life with you.  If you aren't willing to do that, then we should end it here, now. I can't have my heart broken again." 

"Kiss me," he murmured, stepped closer and sweeping her in his arms before she could protest. "It's been too long, and I've missed you so much." 

"I'm serious, Angel," she said, leaning back to glance up at him sternly. 

"Tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it," he replied seriously, recognizing the stricture in her voice. He didn't want to argue with her. 

"Stay with me, forever," she answered. 

"Done." Lifting her with a quick sweep of powerful muscle, he carried her toward the room he knew to be her bedroom.  

"Don't say it if you don't mean it." She gazed up at him with longing and with wariness. 

"Every problem we have, we'll take them one at a time and solve them. We'll make this work, I promise," he softly affirmed. He regretted every time he had hurt her, and vowed then to do everything in his power to prevent it from happening again.  

Buffy studied his expression.  He was serious this time. A future for them, together, was actually possible. The epiphany struck her with such intensity that she felt a sudden jolt of happiness that made her almost giddy. "You're serious?"

"Never more so," he murmured with a smile. "I'm miserable without you." 

Their lips met as he set her on her feet, allowing her body to slide against his in a subtle caress.  Their kisses were slow, lingering, and passionate, the months apart quickly igniting the flame of desire.

Buffy's hands roved over his chest and shoulders, her palms trailing along the soft cotton of his shirt to the twill of his pants. Her fingers brushed the hard swell of his erection, as their lips and tongues met again in another deep, heated kiss. 

When she unbuckled his belt, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away. "Not so fast, love," he whispered against her lips before sliding them against her cheek to her throat. "I've been waiting too long for this. I don't want to rush." 

"But I want you," she countered, suddenly impatient and needy. 

"You have me." Lifting his head, he smiled down at her. "And this time, I'm not leaving." 

"Those are some of my favorite words," she said playfully, reaching for the buttons on his shirt. She scarcely dared to believe him after so many partings in their past, the idea simply too good to be true.

He shrugged out of his coat and dropped it carelessly to the floor behind him. He reached for her shirt, tugging it over her head. "I think I know some other words that you like." 

"You do, huh?" She ran her palms over his shoulders, pushing his shirt down his arms. A spiraling heat rippled through her in heated memory.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, running a finger along the swell of her breasts just above the lace edges of her bra. He unclasped the front hook and eased the material back, cupping her warm breasts in his cool hands. He traced the peaks of her nipples with his thumbs, feeling them grow harder with his touch. 

"You're not too bad yourself," Buffy whispered in response. 

He tugged on her nipples, and she gasped softly, a rush of desire flaring through her senses.

Angel looked down at her, half-undressed, her green eyes half-closed and dark with lust, and he wondered how he had lived without her for so long. How he ever thought he could live without her. 

"You deserve so much better," he whispered, leaning down to kiss her. 

"I deserve you," she countered against his mouth, feeling almost light-headed and dizzy. 

"I want to see you," he fairly growled, impatient suddenly himself.  He wrenched her jeans open, almost tearing them in his haste, and pushed them down her hips. 

"You too," she ordered, tugging at his pants as he kicked off his boots. 

Once undressed, she took his hand and tugged him back toward the bed. Hands held tightly, their eyes locked and held. 

"Welcome home," she whispered. 

"Rome, the eternal city," he murmured, his lips brushing her earlobe. "A good place for us to start over, I think." 

"Yes…" She agreed. She was liquid, melting, the sensations so familiar with him, so natural, the ache between her legs so intense, she felt as if she might suddenly come apart.  

Kissing her softly, he eased her back on the bed by degrees. Sliding between her legs, guided himself into her. Slowly, slowly, he pressed forward until the entire hard length of his cock was buried inside her. Until she gasped, her body trembling around him, welcoming him home to her. 

Buffy held him close, her hands gliding over his back, down his waist to his hips. She lifted her hips and drew him in, feeling his weight above and around her as he began to move. She gripped him fiercely as the first fluttering spasms began. 

Angel felt as if he were an adolescent again and out of control. It had been too long since he had been with her; and he drove deeper, harder, thrusting into her as she whimpered into his mouth and wrapped her legs so tightly around his hips that he could barely move. He rocked against her as their senses reeled, their minds feverish with lust. 

"Please, Angel, please," she begged, her mouth pressed against his throat. He poured into her then with an explosive rush, his control lost at having her again. 

Nuzzling her neck, he gave in to the impulse and bit down, hard. 

Buffy cried out as the shuddering, breath-held, gasping orgasm that had been threatening overtook her. It was a constrained rapture that lasted for an emblazoned eternity; that shocked their nerves and touched them to their very souls, and more than made up for the long, grievous months of deprivation. 

"That was… wow," Buffy breathed softly a short while later when she could finally think or speak. 

Still lying over her, braced on his elbows, Angel smiled but didn't move or open his eyes. 

"Are you alive?" She asked playfully, dropping a kiss on his shoulder. 

"I'm not sure," he murmured, his voice muffled. 

"I'm glad you came." She laughed at the unintentional double entendre, the sound trilling out in the hushed bedroom. 

"I'm going to make you happy," he said, opening his eyes at last and leaning back slightly to look down at her. He shifted then, his erection swelling inside her and triggering new, small waves of intoxicating pleasure. 

"I know," she said twining her arms around his neck, her smile beatific. "And speaking of happy…" she squirmed beneath him, rocking her hips slowly in encouragement. 

"I love you." He eased back then drove forward.

"I love you," she returned with heartfelt sincerity. 

"That's all that matters," he whispered, brushing her mouth with a kiss. "We'll figure the rest out as we go."

They made love slowly that time, their initial impetuous lust partially assuaged. Then they made love again, this time with Buffy taking the lead as Angel lay sprawled on her bed in blissful repose. Their combined scents clung to their bodies as she straddled his hips and glided down on him in single thrust. Their sweat covered bodies slipped and slithered together, a kind of frenzy pervading their minds as their world was reduced to an undulating rhythm, to unabashed sensation, and to nothing more than each other. 

That late November afternoon was a small slice of heaven; a private, sequestered, homecoming, and a new beginning. 

It was a chance, finally, for deeply requited love. 

The End

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