After Titia pointed out the way, Buffy leapt over the gate and walked with trepidation through the Hyperion's courtyard garden to the French doors.  She cast a glance around the lobby before heading up the stairs to room 217.

She stepped into the room and took in its dark decor as she passed through on the way to find his bedroom.  She stopped at the end of his bed and studied his sleeping features. He looks like he's been run over by a truck.  Twice.  She skirted the bed and sat quietly beside him.  Gently tracing the unmarred areas of his battered features, she sighed, "My Angel."  He smiled but didn't wake.

Buffy watched him unsure, despite Titia's reassurances, how to proceed.  I should find another room and sleep until he wakes up.  She put her knapsack on the floor along with her coat.  She felt as tired as he looked.   Sighing, she laid down on the sheets beside him, her back touching his side.  Just a few minutes.

He stirred.  Turning on his side, he put his arm around her and pulled her closer so her head lay on his outstretched arm.   She look down at the hand holding her to see the dull sparkle of the silver claddagh ring still turned inward on his finger.  "Buffy," was his dream laden murmur as he nuzzled her hair.

The sound of him saying her name was the final crack in the dam.  The trauma of her mother's sickness and the despair at the emptiness inside her was finally released in a flood of tears.

Angel woke from a wonderful dream of Buffy's warm body wrapped in his arms.  Her sweet scent mixed with vanilla.  It was the only version of heaven he'd ever known.

He opened his eyes to see golden blonde hair.  His mind raced with the possibilities.   Darla!   He sniffed tentatively, not wanting to wake his companion.  The smell from his dream was there, but he didn't trust his senses.  His hand was warm where it held her breast.

He lay still trying to bring his mind to a state were he could trust his senses.  Her hair was too long and golden to be Darla's,  her form too small.  He reluctantly let go of her breast, and moved aside a lock of hair to expose a tan neck and cheek.

"Oh, Buffy."  He kissed the pulse on the side of her neck.

"Angel." She murmured and pressed back against him.  He slid his hand under her shirt to feel the full heat of her flesh.

In a dreamy haze he licked the side of her neck and kissed along her jaw.  His hand sought her breast again as his unclad leg went across her hips holding her to him.

"Angel!"   Buffy squeaked as she leapt from the bed. "Bad boy!"  She ran her eyes over his uncovered body before turning away.

Angel tried to look modest as he covered himself, the blanket not adequately concealing how she had affected him.

"Sorry," she said turning back to him.  "I should have stayed in another room.   But . . ."  she sighed and sat down on the bed beside him to take his hand.  "I heard you've been through a bad time."  She reached up and touched a wound on his face.  He didn't flinch.

"Latitia.  Even though she knew I didn't want to worry you."

"She has a bit of a mother thing going for you.  She never missed a opportunity to tell me how important it was that I should come."  Her big eyes were full of worry and guilt.  "Kept thinking that I was too busy . . . I will have to tell you of the last in the Hellmouth chronicles later.  After Sp- she finally made me realize it was an excuse.  I was scared to see you.  I was in denial . . . Angel, I can't ever have a normal life . . .  I don't want a normal life."  Tears had started to escape her eyes, "I've tried.  I even believed it for awhile."  He pulled her to him.  Her hot tears rolled down his chest.  "Everywhere I turn all I ever see is you."

She turned in his arms to face him, her tear-streaked face reflected her pain.  His eyes burned in response.  "Angel," she reached up and removed a tear from his eye, "I may only have ten years left if I'm very lucky.  Do you think . . . " she looked down at his chest, "you could spare ten years for me?"

Tears flowed unchecked down his face blurring his vision. "Oh Buffy, I give you eternity if I could."  He pulled her tightly against him and kissed her, their mingled tears running down his face.  He wanted to be closer.   He wanted her to know the depth of his love.

"Breathe,"  She sighed against his lips.

"Sorry," he loosened his grip.  She didn't pull away or temper her passion.  He unbuttoned and pulled off her shirt, reveling in the feel of her skin.  He unclasped and tossed her bra to feel the silky softness of her breasts against his chest.

Excepting the day that existed to be cherished in his mind alone, the day he was given a taste of humanity, this is as far as they ever dared go after his return from hell.  I can do this.  Darla had unwittingly shown him the way.   Part of him wondered if he could even be completely happy again, even in Buffy's warm arms.  The happiness that unbound his soul had not been sexual bliss; it had been the happiness of the loving acceptance that Buffy had given him despite his sins.  He could never regain the pureness of that moment.  His tortures in hell and recent events had tainted his soul with a darkness he could never shed.  But, he could be content and take the strength that simple happiness could provide.  If I'm to lose my soul tonight it is already too late.  His Buffy was here to save him again.

He broke their heated kiss.  Trailing his fingers down her back and feeling her tremble in response.  "Do you trust me?"

"Yes."  Her large hazel eyes held his, questioning.  He pulled out from under her so she lay to his side, before kissing her again.  He slid his hand down her flat stomach to unbutton her pants. "Angel!"

"Don't worry."  He kissed her face, before settling back to her lips. "So many things have happened.  So many things."  His hand finished its task and he pushed her pants down around her ass.

She slipped them off and sought him under the covers.  "So good." She whispered against his chest, her hot hand exploring his body, remembering the places that brought him pleasure.

He moaned at the rightness of it. He started to worry that he might be wrong.  Her perfection might still be enough.  He let in the little things.  The knowing lips that kissed sighs from him, were not the tentative lips that made him moan through sheer passion.  The skilled hands that made him quiver with pleasure had not learned their moves from him.  He let in the angry annoyance that his Buffy had learned these things not from him, but from that insipid whelp.  She was his.   These things should have been learned under his tutelage.  He might have been able to prevent some of the scars that she now bore, the emotional and the psychological.

He turned her on her back.  His kisses were forceful and impassioned, washing away her mortal lovers, just as she would clean Darla from him.  His lips traced her jaw and neck, laying a moist trail to her breasts, claiming them as much as he dared.

She arched toward him, but he wasn't ready.  This was the one place where she wasn't allowed control.  She would submit.  Here she must follow his lead.

He stroked her stomach, savouring the way her moist skin in clung to his hand.

"Angel," she moaned, her eyes watching him with hunger.  Her full lips parted as he kissed her, his hands still enjoying her smooth surfaces.  The silky skin of her inner thigh was tantalizing.   Her moans turned to gasps as his hand slid up to trace the moist folds of her sex.

Her strong arms would have cracked a mortals ribs, her lips would have bruise a mortals lips, as she displayed her passion and need.  She squirmed and whimpered, but no longer tried to force him with her impatience.  He smiled into her left nipple, before proceeding down her body to reward her compliance.

He knew this would be quick.  She was so close already.   Her sweet musk was overwhelming as he settled between her thighs.  He kissed the silky surfaces his hands so recently enjoyed.  Her breath was ragged by the time his tongue traced her outer folds.  He lifted his head to see her brows knit together, her hands white knuckled where they dug into the sheets.

Her eyes pleaded for mercy, as he lowered his mouth back to her.  He smiled as his tongue danced lightly over her swollen lips and clit.  Her thighs and ass were clenched tight in an effect to remain still.  He spread open her freely flowing passage, and with an evil grin blew his cool breath across her to watch her quiver.  His tongue lapped away her escaping juices, before giving her clit a few strokes, and then driving its full cool length into her.

She hand dug bruises into his shoulder as she cried his name.  He gave her only a panting second to calm herself, before he was upon her. The slow thrust into her heat was mind blowing.  He held preternaturally still, his eye clenched shut as her hot body convulsed around him, crushing him with arms, legs, and sex.

"It could only ever be you," she sobbed as she clung to him.  He almost lost his fragment of control right there.  "Why did I ever let you leave?"

He kissed the tears from her face, as he started to move slowly in and out of her.  "If I'd stayed, we wouldn't be able to do this."  He sighed into her hair as his control weakened.

She easily exposed her neck to him, total submission, his mind exploded with a power and ecstasy he couldn't describe.  He pressed his lips hard against her carotid as he took his last shuddering thrusts.  He denied himself the taste of her fragrant powerful blood, fearing that it would be too much in his current state, a risk to great even even for his hell-soaked soul.

Angel did an internal status check as he held them intertwined together: soul, check, still happily in place; Angelus, check, hiding deep away from their love; and scattered brain cells, check.  He rounded the last item up.  He rolled them over, needing the continued feel of her hot body surrounding him.  He smelled the vanilla of her hair as it cascaded across his chest.

"I'm so afraid that I will wake up.  That this will just be another dream."  Buffy said not raising her head from his chest.

"I know."

She licked his chest, and smelled his skin.  "You do smell yummy."  She frowned at his sternum.  "I don't think I ever realized it."  She licked him again. "I guess I didn't have anything to compare against."  He chuckled as her hot tongue tickled his nipples.

He did another internal diagnostic; yes, his soul was still there, with no sense of tugging.  With the understanding he had, and the control at which he had entered the situation, he wouldn't succumb to a panic attack like he'd done that enlightening night with Darla.

Kissing her hair, he wondered how he was going to tell her of that experience.  It wouldn't be now he realized as she moved on him, his body responding eagerly.  It would have to wait.  This Buffy needed more, much more, satisfying than the one he had known.  She sat up on him, her breasts bouncing with her movements.  He would happily exhaust himself meeting her needs.
 
 
 

Angel sat up against the headboard, a profoundly sleeping Buffy in his lap, her smiling face pressed against his shoulder.  He had been afraid to sleep, so he sat counting the hours well past the time he hypothesized his soul should have left.   And, long past the time he'd been hit with that fit of anxiety.
 
 
 

He had fallen asleep sometime after dawn, he guessed as hot lips brought him awake.  He felt great, as he check his internal state, still whole.  Smiling he allowed himself to respond to her caress.  She had discovered amazing stamina.  How had that boy survived?
 
 

She must have put me to sleep again, Angel thought as he woke late in the morning.  Buffy's cheerful voice was talking to someone done the hall.  Jasmine.  Then another voice.

Buffy's voice was clear as she replied, " . . . I don't know, Wesley.  I'll check, he may still be asleep.   We were up really late . . . talking.   You know we haven't . . . seen each other in a long time.  Lots to discuss.  I'll tell him when he gets up . . .Yes , I understand your heading the company now.  Do you want a tired cranky vampire?  Even if he is on our side?  Besides he needs his rest after that lawyer guy ran him over repeatedly with that trunk.   Yes, its nice seeing you again too.  I hope that heals quickly."  She opened the door, "Tell Cordy, that Hurricane Buffy will be expected to whirl through on the weekends.  Thanks again, Jasmine, for breakfast."  She closed the door.  "Wow, poor Angel."

Angel closed his eyes with a sigh.  Yes, Buffy could understand.  It's hard being the superhuman of the group.  But she kept it together and now so will he.
 

He woke later completely content.   His face was lying against warm flesh, his cheek being caressed. He purred with contentment.  Oh, no!  His eyes flew open and the rumbling ceased.  Oh, God.

"Oh."  Buffy smiled at him.  "That was so cute."

"That's just what I need, cute."  He turned to the smell of blood from the bedside table, but didn't reach for it.

"You can be cute with me.  I won't tell anyone you purr like a kitten when you get laid."

"I don't purr.  And I certainly wouldn't if I had just been laid."  He wouldn't have their coupling ever considered so mundane.  "I hope you don't see it that way."  He lifted his head from her breast to better gauge her.

"It's a figure of speech, Angel.  You know how I feel,"  she bent and kissed his brow, "since always.  I'll love you forever."  He felt her lips touch his eyelids before meeting his lips.   I'll have to call on Titia to thank her for this.  He pressed his face back onto her warm skin and released the rumble within.
 
 
 

"Angel!"  Buffy shrieked, as he chased her down into the lobby.  They ran past Wesley and Cordy so fast they kicked up a wind.  The Angel Investigations Inc. employees barely had time to consider the possibility of a problem before the whirlwind collided with the couch.

Peals of laughter came from Buffy, as Angel, unaware of his true state, tickled her until she gasped.  "Ah, Angel."   Cordy tapped her brow with her finger.

Angel didn't understand for a second, then the supernatural clarity of her face came into his awareness.  "Ah."  He shook his head.  "She's hard to keep up with."

"Don't we know it," Cordy replied under her breath as she continued with her paperwork.

"I going to be gone for a few hours."  Angel said putting his arm around a panting Buffy.

"Only a few hours, you say."  Wesley gave him a sour look.  "You already been gone thirty-six, so why not a few more."

"Harsh, Wesley." Buffy scowled.

"He's right, Buffy"  Angel looked at her the humour gone from his mood.  "I have been unavailable for a while.  I shouldn't have allowed us to take up the whole weekend.  I do have responsibilities."

"That's crap, Angel.  You deserve some time off just like I did."  She grabbed him firmly by both sides of his face and kissed him.  "I don't regret a second of your time."  She stood up slinging her knapsack over her shoulder. "Now wipe the mopey look off your face and drive me home."