The End: The Warrior

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Summary: Buffy confronts Angel. It's not pleasant, as they take out their aggression on each other the best way they know how.

AUTHOR: Laure Alexander
EMAIL: lara@sunflower.com
RATING: NC-17
PAIRINGS: Buffy/Angelus
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or any of the characters on the show. Joss Whedon and the WB Network own them (for now). No copyright infringement intended, so please don't sue.
DEDICATION: Another bribe from Peygan of a beautiful Angel; and for all those who love the Angel/Buffy relationship in this serious, in all its dark and nasty glory.
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Quiet as a mouse, Buffy snuck into the mansion. Even though she'd walked aimlessly for over an hour, it was still daylight out, so she hoped the minions and fledglings were still asleep in the basement. Creeping up the stairs, she headed unerringly for Angel's suite. The outer room was empty and dark, and she walked through it, every sense on the alert for movement and sound.

Angel's bedroom was lit by a single candle on the night stand, but Buffy could see that the bed was empty, though the covers were mussed and the pillows dented by two heads.

Her heart thudded into her stomach and she swallowed hard, blinking back bitter tears.

She knew deep inside that the second head had been Willow's.

"Come to rescue the little bitch?" Angel's soft voice hissed from the shadows in the far corner. "Too late."

"Wh--where is she?" Buffy stammered, turning to face the direction of the voice.

Angel stepped out of the darkness, only his pale face visible, his black clothes and hair fading into the background. "I told you it was only a matter of time."

Buffy's hands clenched into fists as fury filled her. "Bastard."

Sighing, Angel took another step towards her. "Buffy, Buffy, you knew she was mine."

"I hoped..." She choked and forced herself to continue, reining in her desire to pound his face into the floor. "I hoped I really meant something to you."

"I love you," he said it as if it was a curse, his lips tightening into an angry line. "One has nothing to do with the other. Willow made a deal with me, and it was her idea, not mine. You were there."

"She was desperate," Buffy cried. "You wouldn't have helped him."

"If I'd known the direction my relationship Spike would take, I would have given him my blood willingly, but hindsight is never helpful."

"Do you really think the demon community and your own minions care that you force one little girl to keep her bargain with you?"

"We're evil creatures, Buffy. Our word is all we have. We can't swear in god's name or on our souls, but when we make deals, we keep them and we make sure they're kept by all parties. There's a reason it's called a deal with the devil."

"You're not the devil. You're just another vampire," she lashed out.

In a blink of an eye, Angel was before her, grabbing her fist before she could lash it across his face. Twisting her arm behind her back, he jerked her against his body and growled, "Don't push me, lover."

"I hate you," she yelled, eyes glittering with fury as she struggled against him. Wrenching free, she kicked out at him and he caught her foot, spinning her to the floor. Ignoring the pain in her shoulder from hitting the hard wood, she kicked out again, catching him behind the knees and knocking him down.

They came together on their knees, hands gripping each other's wrists in bruising holds. Angel snarled and Buffy answered him back.

And then he kissed her, hard and hungry, and she responded mindlessly, biting at his lips with her teeth and hissing into his mouth. Their bodies molded together as heat exploded between them.

They both released their hold at the same time and began to tug at each other's clothes. Her jacket easily skimmed down her arms, Angel clawed at her shirt, ripping it at the shoulder seam as he pulled it from her. Buffy shoved his top over his head, then toppled him onto his back.

Straddling his body, she continued to kiss him as she fumbled with the zipper of his black jeans. He grabbed her hips, tugging down her running pants and underwear. As she squirmed out of them, he lifted his hips so she could pull down his jeans.

Burying her mouth in Angel's throat, Buffy wrapped her hand around his erect cock and impaled herself on it. She keened loudly, then rose above him, eyes closed, mind blank. Angel's hands cupped her lace enclosed breasts, squeezing them as she moved on him quick and hard, slamming her hips down. Growling in lust, Angel arched, meeting her thrusts, his fingers tightening and bruising her tender flesh.

As pleasure rapidly grew in her, a bit of sanity returned and Buffy bit deeply into her lower lip until it bled. "Bastard," she hissed, continuing to ride him. "I hate you, hate you, hate you." Tears leaked from her eyes and she dug her fingernails into Angel's skin, raking them down his chest.

Angel howled and grabbed her around the waist, rising to a sitting position. "Open your eyes," he demanded, slamming her down on his cock.

Groaning in pleasure at the new position, Buffy wrapped her legs around his waist and her fingers around his throat. Her eyes opened and she glared down at him.

He glared back with the golden eyes of his demon and smashed his mouth over hers in a brutal kiss of dominance. "You're mine."

"Hate you."

"I don't fucking care." Wrapping one hand in her loose hair, he yanked her head back and scraped his fangs along her carotid artery. "MINE." With that howl, he shifted back to human and bit deeply with his blunt teeth.

Buffy screamed and clung to him, clawing at him as her orgasm built. The friction of their bodies moving together, hers damp with perspiration, his cool and hard, and the feel of his teeth in her skin, bruising her, made her shudder with need, and she writhed on his lap.

Lifting his head, Angel stared down into her liquid eyes, saw the desire and despair there, and gentled his movements in her. Taking her hips, he controlled her plunging, and rubbed their bodies together. "Mine," he whispered before kissing her tenderly, tangling their tongues as their lips clung together.

The eroticism and tenderness of the kiss sent Buffy over the edge and she trembled and bucked in his arms, sobbing in ecstasy.

As she slumped limply against him, Angel shifted them again, laying her gently on the floor and coming over her. Sliding back into her, he thrust back and forth, groaning as her inner muscles clenched around him, milking him of his pleasure. With a soft growl of lust, he shuddered atop her as he spilled himself into her.

Lowering his head, he kissed her slack lips, then rolled onto his back, panting softly.

Slowly Buffy came back to her senses and moaned in horror and shame. Sitting up, she scrambled for her clothes, jerking them on as tears burned in the corners of her eyes.

How could she have done this?

Sorrow nearly choked her, but she forced out, "I want to see her."

"No you don't." Angel rose to his knees and pulled up his jeans, zipping them closed.

"You've destroyed us."

"Stop being so fucking melodramatic," he growled, standing and stalking to the dresser for his cigarettes.

"You killed my best friend," Buffy yelled, grabbing her jacket and jamming her arms into the sleeves. "You think I'll just get over this? That you're so fucking good in bed, that I'll accept what you've done?"

Glaring at her, he lit a cigarette and drew deeply on it before responding coldly, "Yeah, I do. You'll do anything for me, remember, Buff?"

She glared back, her eyes glittering with hatred and tears. "You nearly broke me last year, and, yeah, back then I would have accepted and hated myself for wanting you. But then you rebuilt me. You wanted me strong and independent, and the strong and independent Buffy wants nothing to do with you." Spitting the last few words at him, she strode towards the door, only to find him blocking her way.

She almost smiled at the fear in his eyes as he grabbed her and jerked her mouth to his. He tasted of smoke and hunger and his kiss was possessive and needy.

Buffy bit his tongue.

Crying out in pain and shock, Angel yanked his head back and blood spilled down his chin. Buffy grinned nastily up at him and knocked his arms up, freeing herself from his grip.

"Get the fuck out of my way."

Wiping the blood from his lips and chin, Angel glared furiously at her, then slowly stepped aside. As she stormed past, he yelled, "This isn't over, lover, not by a long shot. You belong to me."

"Go fuck yourself."

Fury sustained her as she made her way down the stairs, uncaring if she encountered any vampires. Once outside in the dim winter sunlight, her anger began to fade, replaced by a deep and growing pain.

Her pace slowed and her arms wrapped around her waist as finally the bottled tears and sobs broke free from deep inside her soul.

"Willow..."

End of Chapter 8