|Chapter Title:||Return, Chapter 8|
|Time line:||Mid-May, 1998.
Very late (actually would be early morning hours) on the night following Angel being sent to hell
Buffy is a Junior in High School, (but has been expelled before completing 11th grade.)
Angel returns. What will Buffy do now? Who will she choose?
|Rating / Warnings:||
NC17. Content is only suitable for mature adults. Contains explicit language, violence, sex and adult themes which may include rape, attempted rape, blood play and other adult situations that some people may find objectionable. If you are under the age of 17 or find any of these themes objectionable – GO AWAY. Parents, it is up to YOU to control what your children are reading.
Buffy woke slowly, her head resting against a cool, hard chest. The owner of that hard chest was curled around and over her, as if protecting her from some unseen attacker. Spike. She let out a small sigh and tried to move, but found it difficult with his weight on her. She really needed to pee, otherwise she would have just stayed put. Moving as slowly as possible, she slithered down towards the bottom of the bed and out of Spike’s grasp. He only moaned lightly at the loss, but didn’t awaken.
Pulling on a t-shirt and shorts, she headed out of the bedroom and moved silently down the hallway to the bathroom. She thought momentarily about taking a shower, but thought that it might be more fun to wait for Spike to join her. As she came out of the bathroom and started back down the hallway to the bedroom she heard something.
Buffy stopped and listened again, not sure what she had actually heard.
“Buffy, where are you?”
Ok, definitely heard it now, coming from the room opposite the bathroom. She was starting to get another one of those not good déjà vu feelings. It couldn’t be possible! She pushed the memory of her nightmare from her mind. It was Spike; obviously, he had woken up and was just playing a game with her. Buffy turned and moved to the door, took a deep breath and opened it quickly. She stood with mouth agape as Angel turned around from where he had been lighting candles that lined the mantle in the oversized bedroom.
“Angel?” she asked, taken aback.
“Buffy! Thank God, I thought you wouldn’t come back!” Angel rushed to her, taking her in his arms and pressing a desperate kiss to her mouth.
“NO! How . . . I saw . . . you were gone . . . .” She tried to form a coherent thought, tried to talk, but his lips devoured hers as her mind whirled, the dream – it wasn’t just a nightmare, it was a Slayer dream! Angel explored her mouth with his tongue, hungry, searching, demanding more.
Buffy pushed against his chest, she would not let this happen again! Angel held her tight. She couldn’t get any leverage on him to push him away with her arms so she hooked one leg around his and pulled hard, tumbling them both to the ground. He landed on top of her, but had to release his grip on her to brace himself before he hit the floor.
“NO! ANGEL, STOP!” she screamed at him as she kicked him off of her and scrambled to her feet.
“Buffy, what’s wrong?” Angel looked hurt, confused.
“Angel, stop. Just stop.” Buffy moved out of his reach, he was still sprawled on the floor. “Just stay down, please don’t come near me,” she pleaded with him.
“Buffy, I love you. I need you. Can you ever forgive me?” Angel pleaded back to her.
Buffy took a deep breath to try and clear her thoughts, she needed to get Spike, he’d know what to do; he would help her. She was just too close to this to think clearly.
“Yes, Angel, I can forgive you . . . I know it wasn’t you, it was Angelus.” Even as she said it, Spike’s words echoed in her mind, Liam, Angelus, Angel, they’re all one and the same, luv.
“You know I’ll always love you. I’ll help you, but you have to stay here for now. Please do as I ask,” she continued as she backed towards the open door.
Angel nodded. “Of course, Buffy, whatever you need me to do.”
Buffy backed out into the hallway, praying that Angel would stay put as he said he would, and shut the door behind her as she took off running back to where Spike was. She flung the door to their bedroom open, calling his name. Spike was gone.
Spike felt her move out of his embrace and heard her leave the bedroom. Probably going to the bathroom, he thought. A wicked plan formed in his sleepy mind, Slayer, Vampire, hot shower . . . mmmm . . . resumption of Slut 101 lessons could ensue. He smiled, stretched and got up slowly to follow her down the hall.
When he neared the bathroom, he heard voices coming from Angel’s bedroom. He stopped and listened.
“Buffy, I love you, I need you. Can you ever forgive me?”
Was that ANGEL? How was that possible?
“Yes, Angel, I can forgive you . . . I know it wasn’t you, it was Angelus.”
And Buffy is . . . forgiving him!? Excusing his actions, after all Spike had shown her? All he told her about who Angel really was?
“You know I’ll always love you. I’ll help you.”
Tears burned the back of Spike’s eyes and threatened to spill down his face; he couldn’t listen to any more. She still loved Angel. Of course she still loved Angel. Of course she would forgive Angel. How could he have thought that she could love him? What was it the scarecrow boy had said? Next best undead thing. That’s how it had always been, hadn’t it – always second best to the great Angelus.
He quickly turned and ran back to their room, gathered the bare necessitates and headed out and down the stairs, pulling on his jeans and t-shirt as he went. Stopping only long enough downstairs to pull on his boots before slipping out of the mansion and into the night.
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