ACKNOWLEDGMENTS: The usual suspects. See Part 1

RATING: NC-17

DISCLAIMER: Joss has said that BtVS was meant to be a show about which fanfic was written, so I'm writing some. But he still owns Buffy and Angel. So do the WB, Fox and Mutant Enemy. No infringement is intended.

__________________________________________________________

Ignoring her half-eaten snapper, Buffy slid onto Angelus’ lap eagerly, now glad that she wasn’t wearing panties as she tangled her hands in his thick dark hair, and pulled him into a desperate kiss. His hand slid along her thigh, beneath the hem of her dress, then delved between her legs. She wriggled into a more accessible position, granting him entrance, but not breaking the kiss. She couldn’t break the kiss. She needed it too badly, needed the taste of him, needed the savor of champagne and the trace of blood. His thumb brushed her clit and she moaned, knowing she was going to go off in a matter of seconds. A finger probed inside and she whimpered, sucking hard on his tongue. It hurt. They had made vigorous, passionate love all day long, her Slayer recuperative powers were compromised, and she was still so new at this. Her sexual experience was limited to one night in the arms of the man she loved, and one week in the bed of the demon who wore his face. Over a year and a half stretched between the two events, and it seemed as if Angelus was determined to make up for lost time. Her body was suffering the consequences.

He had heard the telltale whimper, had felt her flinch, and understood the problem. But she was kissing him with unabated passion, and the knowledge that she was ignoring her discomfort for the sake of their shared passion was intoxicating. He was a vampire. Her pain excited him. But, her passion excited him even more. For the moment, he was moved to a protective tenderness. He withdrew the probing finger, concentrating on her clit, instead. She wriggled in his lap, and he chuckled.

Buffy devoured Angelus mouth, hungry for his kisses. She experienced a moment of shock at his consideration. Understanding the pleasure vampires took in pain, she was surprised that he hadn’t simply tried to make her come despite her soreness. Instead, he had opted not to hurt her. But she had no time to think about what it all meant, because his knowing fingers had busied themselves with her aching clit, and she could think of nothing but the pleasure escalating slowly, too slowly, inside her.

He took his time, and he could tell that was driving her crazy. She was afire, achingly close to climax. One more twist, and she’d be over the edge. But he liked having her in his lap, liked the desperation of her kisses, and he never, ever seemed to want to rush things when he had her in his arms. He let his fingers find another spot to tease, moving her back from the edge, and making her start the climb once more. The next whimper was one of disappointment. But it had served its purpose. This time, when he probed inside her, she didn’t seem to feel any pain. He set up a slow, steady, rhythm, pumping in and out of her gently while his thumb massaged her clit. She was moaning into his mouth, and he risked a second finger. She whimpered, rubbing her breasts against his chest, and if he was causing her any pain at this point, she was well beyond caring. Another brush against her clit and she was screaming into his mouth, climaxing in shuddering waves, writhing in his arms.

Every nerve in her body, every sensation, seemed to be centered in a tiny bit of flesh between her thighs. She couldn’t believe the intensity of her orgasm, as Angelus played her body like a virtuoso played a violin. And she couldn’t believe, as the hot pleasure washed over her and slid away, that instead of sating her hunger, it left her hungrier than before. She could feel him, hard against her thigh, and she rubbed against him like a cat in heat. He chuckled again, but shifted her slightly, moving her away. Before she could protest, another firm thrust of his fingers and caressing brush of his thumb started a second wave of pleasure rolling over her, and she shattered for him anew. Once more the wave crested. Once more it drained away. And once more, Angelus summoned the waves. He held her in his arms, and he was merciless. She lost count of how many waves crashed over her, how many times she drowned in the surf, how many times he dragged her upward, only to drown her yet again. Then she knew he had gone into game-face, because she could feel his fangs against her mouth. She ran her tongue daringly over each one, licking against the points. Just as another orgasm hit, she deliberately pricked her tongue against one fang, and he instinctually sucked down the tiny drop of welling blood. Somehow, it made that orgasm the best yet.

Angelus held her tight, as the tremors coursed through her body and she moaned into his mouth, incredibly, willingly gifting him with just a taste of her blood. He was hard again, but that could wait. Primed as she was, he wasn’t going to want to rush things with her, wanted to enjoy what she could offer, and that demanded more privacy than was currently available to them. The Lamia venom had, as was its wont, seeped from his system into hers when he had spilled his seed inside her. Even thus diluted, its effect on Buffy was noticeable, enhancing the delightful responsiveness of her nature. Maybe, he reflected as he began to ease Buffy down from her peak, it was a good thing he hadn’t acted on his earlier impulse to bring Mai into things. If Buffy ever ingested Lamia venom straight, he doubted even his vampiric stamina would be equal to the task of keeping her satisfied. Of course, Mai would be there to help him . . .As Buffy began to calm in his arms, her kisses becoming less demanding and more lingering, Angelus had a flash of a vision, the two females entwined, Mai suckling at Buffy’s breasts, her pale fingers moving as his did now, Buffy’s legs lifting to wrap against around her partner’s waist, her hips churning, her golden hair tossing as she gave in to pleasure.

Against every expectation he had, against everything in his nature, against inclinations he had avidly indulged over the course of one and a half centuries, the vision did not please.

Growling, Angelus tightened his grip on Buffy, and kissed her with bruising force. She whimpered slightly, but returned the kiss. Mine, he thought, and realized, as he did so, just how often that particular thought had crossed his mind when he had this girl in his arms. It was not a comfortable realization.

Momentarily spent, Buffy at long last broke their kiss, resting her head against his shoulder. Angelus pulled his hand from between her thighs, smoothed down her skirts, then raised his hand to his lips and licking off the honeyed residue.

"Lovely dessert," he smirked.

"Smug bastard," Buffy sighed, without any real heat. Given her current state of satisfaction, he was entitled to be as smug as he pleased. Almost on the thought, a tiny spark of fire raced along her veins, and she realized that whatever satisfaction she felt was destined to be fleeting. She raised her head and looked down at him, pouting.

"We’ve been making love all day, I’ve just had a series of incredible climaxes, and two seconds later--I want you again. I can feel--something. Are you going to tell me what’s going on?" Angelus considered the possibility. Did he want to tell Buffy he had pleasured Mai the way he had just pleasured her? It was his right, true, and Buffy had no claims on him, as she did with Angel. He had declared her his mate, but in vampiric terms, that didn’t imply the fidelity it did amongst humans. He wasn’t even sure she would care if he were unfaithful, a thought which he found oddly disturbing. He couldn’t imagine why he would want her to care.

Then again, he couldn’t really imagine why he was being, by his standards at least, faithful.

"Well?" Buffy demanded, nipping at his lips, recalling him to the present, and to her question. He nipped back.

"No." He kissed her.

"Bastard," she repeated, before kissing him back.

"We’ve established that." His tongue swept across her lips. She moaned, and opened for him.

Chris cleared his throat.

"Will Madam be having dessert?" His eyes flicked to Buffy’s half-full dinner plate, as if he doubted dessert would interest her.

With a soft, embarrassed groan, Buffy broke the kiss and buried her head in Angelus’ neck.

"It’s all right, darling. I’m quite sure Chris is used to honeymooning couples by now, aren’t you Chris?"

Chris affably agreed that he was. Buffy made to rise from Angelus’ lap and take her seat once more. Angelus tightened his arms and she stayed where she was. Desserts and coffee were ordered and the remains of their earlier course removed. When they were alone again, Buffy finally raised her head from the safety of Angelus’ shoulder and stared down at him thoughtfully.

"Honeymooning couples," she said quietly. "Is that how you see us?"

He looked back at her, his dark eyes unfathomable.

"After a fashion. You’re mine, Buffy. We’ve established that. A honeymoon is a time away from the world, time for a couple to adjust to their new relationship, to each other, before they face the world again, as a couple."

"How romantic," she said dryly.

"Not always. I see this as your time to adjust. You’re used to being a force to be reckoned with in your own right. That’s over, my love. I want that very clear. You are mine and everything you do will reflect upon me. That’s part of the meaning behind the ring you are wearing, behind my public declaration that you are my mate. In the vampire community, that makes everything you do something for which I am responsible, because it makes you, in a fashion, an extension of me."

"That’s not even medieval, that’s out of the Dark Ages," she bristled. "Unless it works both ways?"

He didn’t bother to dignify her angry remark with an answer.

"There’s no question of my letting you go. There’s even less of a question of your escaping, and if you try, I will make you regret it in ways that you can’t possibly imagine, even now."

"And you expect me to just accept that?" she demanded, furious.

"Hell, no. I expect you to fight me every step of the way," he grinned, kissing her fiercely. "And that’s going to make it so much sweeter for me when you lose."

"Prick," she groused. But she kissed him back.

Chris arrived with desserts and coffee, but Angelus held her in his arms until their obliging server had disappeared once more. When she attempted to slide off his lap, Buffy made a fairly shocking discovery.

"I’m soaking," she whispered, mortified. "I’m soaking, and I’m not wearing panties, and silk stains!" When Angelus chuckled this time, she hauled back her hand to slap him. He caught her wrist, still amused.

"Yes, darling, silk stains. So does linen, but I don’t give a damn about the handkerchief." He kissed her hand, then reached for the handkerchief in his breast pocket. Buffy blushed as he lifted her skirts once more. "It’s been years since I’ve played ladies maid," he commented as she looked daggers at him. "But I don’t think I’ve lost my touch."

Pointing out once more that he was a smug bastard seemed a bit redundant. Buffy suffered thorough his ministrations--the hardest part of which was in seeing to it, as he stroked the crisp cloth against her sensitive flesh, that she didn’t give him more to clean up. When he was done, she pushed her skirts down herself, then slid off his lap and returned to her own chair. She eyed him calmly refolding the damp square of linen. "You aren’t going to put that back in your pocket?"

"Why ever not?" he asked coolly, doing just that. She shook her head, giving the argument up as lost, and turned her attention to dessert.

Two confections were on her plate. She picked up her spoon and debated which one to try first. She’d had crème brûlée before, but ginger crème brûlée was a new one on her. She went with what she knew, then compared. She closed her eyes, and sighed in delight. Comparisons were of the good.

"Enjoying yourself?" Angelus asked, amused. His chocolate torte with minted truffle cream was going largely ignored. Buffy decided that was a shameful waste and leaned forward to snatch a spoonful. He grinned and pushed the plate in her direction.

"Very much," she said, lifting her heavily laden spoon to her mouth, then reaching for her coffee. "I’m enjoying everything, Angelus. Just don’t expect it to turn me into your willing slave." She set the coffee down and picked up her spoon once more. "I’ll be viewed as an extension of you? My actions will reflect on your reputation?" She laughed. "Prepare to have your reputation in the vampire community damaged beyond repair."

"Oh, no, my love," he grinned back. "Prepare to make my reputation in that community the most feared and respected of all time."

"You’re dreaming," she warned him, before licking ginger cream from her spoon.

"Most pleasantly," he agreed, watching the unconscious sensuality of her little pink tongue.

Chris returned to inquire if there was anything further they required. There wasn’t. The check was quickly settled, Chris presented with a tip that caused even his eyes to widen in appreciation, and before long, the were headed once more through the hotel, before which Robert was undoubtedly waiting patiently for their return. Once more, Buffy was conscious of the glances coming her way, of the brush of her thighs against each other, of an arousal recently sated renewing itself once more. This time, she wasn’t embarrassed. Was it the champagne making her want to flaunt her sexuality, instead of hide it? She could feel her nipples, which had been achingly hard this past hour, was aware that they showed through the silk of her dress, despite the modesty of the bra beneath. The display didn’t concern her. She was wondering how dark the glass separating Robert from the rest of the car was. Could he see through it, or would anything going on in the back seats show up in his mirror? Of course, Angelus wouldn’t show up in the mirror at all, no matter what he got up to, and one of the seats faced away from Robert, so he wouldn’t be able to see whatever transpired there . . .

She grew wet once more, contemplating the possibilities.

They were crossing the lounge when the interruption came.

"Angelus?" came an incredulous voice. Angelus stopped, halting Buffy as well. Chris turned questioningly.

"Wulf," Angelus said pleasantly, extending his hand to a man every bit his own height, who seemed to have about a decade on him. The man’s hair--long, and pulled back into a que fastened with a bit of black velvet ribbon--was white, but not with age, and his eyes were an icy blue that chilled with a glance. He shook Angelus’ hand heartily, his teeth flashing in a smile which Angelus returned. Buffy was reminded of wolves baring their fangs in a display of dominance.

Angelus glanced at Chris.

"Tell my driver that we’ll be staying a bit longer," he said dismissing the server. Chris accepted the commission, wished them a good evening and left them with their new companion. Buffy was glad to find that her Slayer’s reflexes and instincts weren’t so badly impaired by the drugs that she couldn’t recognize the other man as a vampire. Wulf. She wondered what Giles would have been able to tell her about him. She was just betting that he had a rep to rival that of Spike, Darla, the Master, or Angelus himself.

"I’d heard rumors that you returned, last year," Wulf said to Angelus. "And then you seemed to disappear, again. What have you been up to, my boy?" Buffy arched a brow. She didn’t need to see the flash of rage in Angelus’ eyes to know how he was going to react to that appellation.

"No good, of course, Wulf," Angelus replied pleasantly enough.

"And who is this lovely creature?" Wulf said. His cold blue eyes raked over Buffy, taking in the flash of diamonds at her throat, and lingering hungrily on her stiff nipples. The slightest flare of his nostrils told her that the scents from Angelus’ handkerchief, undetectable to any human who wasn’t standing almost on top of them, was not lost on Wulf, either. She could tell he was wondering if Angelus would be willing to share his meal, and if he weren’t, whether she would be worth the trouble of stealing her from him. She almost giggled knowing how Angelus was going to react to Wulf’s inspection.

"This is Buffy. My mate," Angelus purred. She smiled at Wulf politely as his eyes widened in shock and his own smile faltered for just a moment.

"Well, you have been busy, haven’t you?" Wulf said. "Do join me in a drink. I must, of course, toast your happiness."

"We’d be delighted," Angelus said.

They were seated in low overstuffed chairs that were so roomy, they were closer to sofas. Angelus had taken advantage of that, and she sat curled into his side, the very picture of newlywed bliss. Their table had an unobstructed view of the evening’s entertainment: the pianist and a woman with a smoky voice perfectly suited to the classic blues and jazz ballads she was delivering. But they weren’t so close that their conversation was overwhelmed by the performance. Angelus ordered more champagne. Wulf offered a toast to "a long and fruitful alliance." Buffy maintained her silence, and sipped delicately at the contents of her glass, hoping they could leave soon. If she had to wait much longer to get back to their room, she might go up in flames. She tried to distract herself by paying attention to what the two vampires were saying.

Had she taken the ensuing conversation at face value, she would have been bored to tears. Certainly, anyone who happened to overhear it would assume that two old friends were getting caught up on the doings of mutual acquaintances. But the conversation didn’t have a damned thing to do with friendship, and everything to do with power and position.

"So sorry to hear about Nest, of course. And Darla. What a blow that must have been to you, my boy."

"Time heals all wounds," Angelus replied smoothly. Buffy wondered if Wulf knew of Angel’s part in the demise of The Master and his responsibility for Darla’s end. She didn’t think so. But something must have come to his ears. Angelus was deflecting things nicely, though. Not that she expected anything less. "Their affairs were left in quite a bit of disarray, and I’m afraid that some of their . . .heirs. . .have behaved rather badly. I may have to take a hand in things." Buffy sipped her champagne to hide her surprise. From the look of things, Wulf was even less pleased with Angelus’ declaration that he intended to get back whatever territories the Master and Darla had once possessed.

"An unenviable task," Wulf said with what anyone who didn’t know them would have to consider heartfelt sympathy. "I can’t imagine that the heirs in question will thank you." Buffy wondered if that was a veiled threat to Angelus himself, but Wulf didn’t press the matter, instead turning to a new topic. "I’m hearing the most astonishing things about Drusilla and William. Surely they’re still together?"

"Sadly no," Angelus was forced to admit. "She left him, last year. The winters up north didn’t agree with her any more. She decided that Brazil had more to offer her. Though, I’m a bit surprised at the Chaos she’s succumbed to."

"Chaos? Really? Well, if you think about it, she always did have the oddest tastes." Buffy recognized the slight to Angelus and to Spike. "Poor William must be devastated."

"He’s just not himself," Angelus lamented. "Really took the bite out of him."

"Indeed?" Wulf digested that tidbit thoughtfully. Buffy could almost watch the wheels turning, as Wulf assessed just how badly Dru’s desertion of Spike would affect the younger vampire, and if there were some opportunity for Wulf himself in Spike’s new vulnerability. Or, perhaps, he was debating whether he could make an alliance with Dru. She wondered why Angelus had revealed so much to Wulf, but a moment later, he neatly scotched both plans, in one urbane sentence.

"Given how close I was to both of them, I’m extending each of them all the help I can, of course," he said. Meaning, Buffy realized, that Dru was still, as Angelus’ childe, his territory, and that Spike, though deserted by Dru, was under Angelus’ protection, as well. An alliance with Dru would need Angelus’ approval. Any move against Spike would be taken as a move against Angelus himself. And, of course, if Angelus were extending his help to the two younger vamps, anything of theirs was, in a way, his. Vampiric relationships were nothing if not Byzantine. Angelus had just declared himself master of whatever territories Spike hunted in the states and Dru had taken over in Brazil. She wondered idly what Spike and Dru would think of that, then decided that Dru would be so delighted to have her Daddy back, that she’d hand over whatever rights he cared to assert. Spike might not want to be so accommodating, but Buffy had the feeling he wouldn’t be given a choice. Then again, if she and Angelus were going to spend much time in Japan, and points east, the matter might never be put to a test.

Wulf, however, seemed unable to resist testing the waters.

"You’re too generous, dear boy," Wulf said. "No one can expect you to shoulder such burdens when you’ve just taken on your own, most delightful, responsibilities. I’m sure your lovely bride would prefer that she had your attention all to herself. No man should risk neglecting such a charming creature, after all." Buffy had to give Wulf points for cajones. He’d just warned Angelus that he had designs on Dru, Spike and Buffy herself.

"No risk of that," Angelus reassured Wulf with deadly politeness. "I couldn’t think of neglecting Buffy. I can support Dru and William without taking time away from my bride." Angelus intended to hold what was his.

Oddly, this seemed to please Wulf. Or perhaps, not so oddly. Vampires respected strength, cunning and ruthlessness. Like sharks, they would rend their own at the first sign of blood or weakness. But they admired a vicious leader.

"I’m delighted to hear it. Will you be traveling to traveling to Europe any time soon? You must let me put some of my properties at your disposal." Wulf had just done a volte-face and proposed an alliance.

"That would be most welcome," Angelus accepted. "Our itinerary is rather flexible. I’ll have to put you in touch with Mai. I’m sure you know of her?" Buffy wondered what Mai was, that the mere mention of her name could instantly cause Wulf to become deferential.

"Who does not? But I’d be delighted with an introduction. We’ve had business dealings, of course, but it isn’t quite the same."

"No, it isn’t," Angelus agreed finishing his champagne. "You’re staying here? I’ll see that she gets in touch with you tomorrow." He stood, and the two shook hands once more.

"A pleasure seeing you again, Angelus," Wulf said as Buffy got to her feet. He turned to her and lifted her hand to his lips, but was circumspect, and did not actually press a kiss against her knuckles. Nor, when he met her eyes again, was there the slightest trace of his earlier hunger. "Charmed, my dear. I wish you every happiness." Buffy spoke for the first time, murmuring polite thanks.

They took their leave of Wulf, and made their way through the hotel and out the main entrance. Buffy took a deep breath of the night air. Robert pulled the limo up a moment later, and Angelus handed her back into the car.

She took the seat opposite him, her back to Robert.

"How far do you trust Wulf?" she asked.

"Trust?" Angelus raised a brow. "It isn’t a matter of trust. It’s a matter of strength. He realized tonight that I’m back and I’m strong. The offer to introduce him to Mai cemented the matter. She has access to power he can’t even imagine."

"And she’s in your debt. What is she, Angelus?"

"Something that doesn’t concern you."

"Doesn’t she?"

"Not in the least, my love. Haven’t we better things to discuss?" The last was said in a seductive purr, and the fire that had been warming her blood all evening leapt to attention.

"I suppose . . ." she purred back.

________________________________

The Journey will continue.

FEMFIC        PART 13a        PART 14      FEEDBACK

Sign My Guestbook View My Guestbook

Note: Once again, although I’ve never been to Hawaii, I’ve done my homework. So, if you want URLs to the hotel upon which Buffy and Angelus’ hotel is based, or to the restaurant upon which I’ve based the dinner scenario contact me. Yes, the restaurant advertises that they will provide a private dinner for two on the beach or in several other settings, and yes, the menu items are similar to those on the real menu but, as with the hotel, this is still a fictionalized setting and details are not exact.