Rising Into the Light

by Jill

Disclaimer: Angel actually admits that there is a Buffy … he does not moon over St. Cordy … if that doesn’t tell you I don’t own them I can’t help you!
Category: Romance/Smut
Pairing: B/A, W/T, X/A
Rating: NC-17 baby, because it’s fun
Distribution: my site, ffnet, several lists including BA_Fluff, if you have any of my stuff, just take it, anybody else please tell me where it goes
Spoilers: everything up to “Bargaining” and “Heartthrob” is fair game. And you should have read “Fade To Nothing”, because this doesn’t make sense without the first story.
Summary: Buffy and Angel return from their trip.
Feedback: oh yes, please!!! send it to Connemara.Scarlets@t-online.de
Dedication: To all of you who wanted a short, smutty sequel.

“Buffy, Angel, you’re back!” Willow’s squeal of delight sounded through the Summers’ house, before she threw herself at her best friend, and after hugging her fiercely, she did the same to a very surprised Angel. He didn’t freeze as he might have years ago, when not accustomed to showing human affection, only one sign how much he had changed during his absence from Sunnydale.

Watching him closing his arms around Willow, Buffy made a mental note to thank his friends in L.A. properly in the very near future. Shrugging off her coat, she looked around, “Everything seems fine around here. No problems with vamps?”

Finally letting go of Angel, the redhead beamed at her, “Nearly nothing. Spike took care of it. And I did this really neat spell on a kid eating demon.”

“Kid eating demon?” the Slayer asked in alarm, but the witch waved it off.

“Wesley warned us in advance. Seems its arrival was foretold somehow. So we were prepared. Spike held it in check and I changed it into a toad. Now it’s a toady kind of kid eating demon.”

“How toady?”

“Uhm … around the size of an ant.”

They all laughed, then a frown appeared on Buffy’s face. “Where is everyone?”

“Dawn is still with your dad. From what she told me on the phone she’s having a blast. Seems your dad feels a little guilty and she has free reign buying clothes and shoes and stuff.”

“Figures,” Buffy muttered, but when she caught Angel’s suddenly concerned gaze, she just smiled. It was so like her father to try to buy his way out of neglecting. But if Dawn had fun, she’d go with it. After all the stuff they’d been through, her little sister could use all the fun she could get. “And the others?”

“Anya is at the magic box, and Xander works God knows where. And Tara had to go home to see one of her brothers. He’s in some kind of trouble. Didn’t really tell her on the phone.”

“Nothing serious, I hope?” the blond was instantly concerned.

Willow sighed, “Didn’t sound that way, but who knows. I was considering to go with her, but she insisted that she needed to deal with it on her own.” She  grinned, “Sort of an emancipation project.”

Buffy laughed, reaching for Angel’s hand. “That’s good.”

Excitement back in her eyes, Willow headed towards the living-room. “And now, spill. Did you have a good time? Uh … do you want something? Tea? Coffee?” She sat down on the love-seat and the couple found their spots on the sofa.

“No,” Buffy in exchanging a look with Angel shook her head, “But I’m starting to think you had one too many. Why are you so hyper?”

“I’m just excited. I played a big part in getting you two back together, albeit unconsciously, so I … want to know.”

“Not so unconsciously,” Angel said softly, referring to his glued in soul. “And I can never thank you enough for it.”

“*We* can never thank you enough,” Buffy amended with a grateful smile at her friend.

Who gave a dismissive wave, “That was nothing. Piece of cake. After all, I did it before. Soul spells, that is. And besides … I feel really bad for not looking for a spell before. I mean, I had this book all the time. And Giles feels bad, too. It’s his book after all.”

“Tell him there is no need,” Buffy tried to assure her. “We,” she smiled at Angel, “probably needed the time apart. Even though I would have preferred to miss out on the whole being dead-thing, but I think it helped. Being apart, I mean. We … now can appreciate more what we have.” Another soft smile went into Angel’s direction and the vampire returned it.

Willow had to keep herself from sighing. Those two were just too cute. Still, there was something she needed to know, something she hadn’t dared asking before. “Buffy,” she swallowed, “Angel said that … he guessed that you went to Heaven. Is it … is it true? Did I … really pull you out from Heaven?”

Exchanging a look with Angel, the Slayer gave her friend a long look, “To tell the truth, Will, I don’t really know where I went. It was peaceful and really bright, but … I can’t tell you if it was Heaven. And besides, being back means being back with Angel. So I’ve got nothing to complain.” She beamed at her last sentence, a spark entering her eyes that instantly unclenched Willow’s stomach. Buffy looked happy. Truly happy. And that was all that counted.

“So your vacation was good?” the redhead finally asked.

“The best,” Buffy replied, beaming again.

“Where did you end up?” Buffy and Angel had taken off in his car, never telling anyone where they went. Angel had left the number of his cell but it had been an unspoken agreement only to contact them if there was an emergency. And as none had arisen, they hadn’t spoken for almost three weeks. Which was the longest period Willow could remember. Even when Buffy had gone to her dad, they had always talked on the phone or at least written a postcard.

Slayer and vampire exchanged a look, before Angel said softly, “In Las Vegas.”

Willow’s eyes went wide, “Las Vegas? You went to hit the billiard halls? Why on earth did you go there?”

“We … uh …,” Buffy blushed, coughed, “we didn’t plan to go there. We just drove. And Angel let me drive,” she grinned when she heard him groan. “During the days. He could hardly sit there in broad sunlight. Anyways, we stayed at motels, little inns, it was great. And fun, and really, really good for the two of us.” They exchanged another look, one that was deep and loving, and Willow felt herself melt away, “And finally we ended up in Vegas.”

“And?” The redhead looked at them expectantly. Had they won a million dollars? Or worse, had they lost one and the loan sharks were on their heels now? Well, if necessary she’d just turn them into loan toads. After all, she knew the spell now. And then she saw it. Gulped. Gulped again, sure her eyes were had to be almost falling out of their socks by now. “Oh my God,” she croaked, pointing at the glimmering diamond on Buffy’s third finger.

Buffy followed Willow’s line of view and her blush deepened. “It was his idea,” she said defensively. “He said we couldn’t go doing … what we were doing and live in sin.” She gave Angel a gentle push with her fist, “You wouldn’t believe how old fashioned he is.”

“Sometimes an old fashion is better than a new fashion,” Angel defended himself, then grinned, “And besides, I thought I’d better make this legal. This way the guys ogling her can see that she’s taken.” He looked at the ring, then pulled up the hand and kissed it. “I think there wasn’t a man in Vegas who wasn’t checking out her … uhm … assets.”

“Angel!” Buffy cried in mock outrage.

“It’s true. But I can’t really blame them. You have nice assets.”

“Okay, too much information for a friend,” Willow interrupted them, afraid they would tumble all over each other any moment. Then she remembered what they’d been talking before. “So you … really go married. But … how?”

Wearing a little frown, Angel said, “Well, the way one does it. We went into this wedding chapel and did it.”

“I think that’s not what she mean, sweetie,” Buffy told him. “I think she was referring to the little problem that you’re kind of dead.”

“Oh,” Angel nodded. “That one.”

Buffy gave him a quick concerned glance, but he seemed cool about it. It had been one of the various problems they’d dealt with on their journey. He’d brought up of the whole ‘I’m-going-to-live-forever-and-you-won’t’-thing, and she’d tried her best to destroy his concerns. Also that he couldn’t have kids and she might want one some day. She had told him that as a Slayer she could hardly have children and risk them to become a target for every vamp and demon running around. He hadn’t believed it at first, but with time, and a lot of convincing he’d finally come around. Buffy was glad to see he wasn’t having some sort of relapse.

“That’s why Vegas was perfect,” the Slayer turned back to her friend. “They didn’t ask. Not even for a blood test, although we could have done them.” Now her own forehead turned into a frown, and she turned to Angel. “Right?”

“No problem,” he replied.

“See,” Buffy spread her arms, “No problem. The wedding chapel, however, was kind of,” she suddenly giggled, “strange.”

“Demonic?” Willow asked, leaning forward.

“No,” the Slayer shook her head, the giggles increasing. Beside her, Angel tried not to burst out laughing. “But it was pink. Everything was pink. Even … the Reverend. At least that’s what he called himself. He looked like an imitation of Elvis – just pink.”

“OhmiGod,” Willow exclaimed, laughing too. “So you really are married? That is so …,” she took a deep breath, feeling light headed all of a sudden, “Wow.” Then a sudden revelation entered her mind, leaving her a little sad, “But … I always wanted to be a bridesmaid. Your bridesmaid. I wanted to be part of it.” Realising how it sounded, she got angry with herself, “No,” she said firmly. “This isn’t about me. I’m a bad friend. You are married. And happy. And- You are happy, right?”

“Very,” Buffy confirmed.

“Yes, very,” Angel agreed, a little more softly, his dark eyes turning even darker, when he looked at Willow, “Thanks to you.”

The witch felt her eyes moisten, “Oh. That’s … I’m glad.” She jumped up, went over to hug Buffy and Angel all over again. “I’m so happy for you. So happy.”

Releasing her friends, the redhead straightened, “Sorry for crying all over you. But seeing you married it’s like … seeing that dreams do come true.” Realising that her friends didn’t quite understand, she reclaimed her seat before explaining, “When we were still in high school, when you started dating Angel, I had this … this idea about you being perfect for each other. I always thought that you’d end up together. And now,” she beamed, “you did.”

“I have to admit that I wasn’t always that confident,” Angel said, smiling a little sadly, “I lost faith now and then.”

Squeezing his hand, Buffy leaned over and peeked him on the cheek, “So did I. But it was a bumpy road we travelled. I think it’s excused.”

“I love you,” he told her, their eyes locking instantly.

Before Buffy could reply, Willow coughed loudly, “I … uh … need to leave anyway. Patrol, you know. Spike should be here any moment.”

A bucket of cold water couldn’t have been more effective. Angel’s eyes snapped into alertness, and he turned to look at Willow, “Were there any problems with him?” Not that he was in any way responsible for his grand-childe, he told himself, but if Spike was giving them any problems he’d be only too pleased to introduce him to a stake or a nice low tree branch. When he closed his eyes and concentrated on it, Angel could still the hot pokers going through his side and thighs. Maybe he wouldn’t find a stake, maybe he and Spike could play. If he tried, he might remember where his evil alter ego had hidden all his toys.

Disgusted with his own thoughts, Angel took a deep breath. He was back from a vacation, with his wife. There should only be positive thoughts in his mind. So how did it come that Spike always made his blood boil? You know exactly why, a little voice told him. And he did know. He hadn’t missed the way Spike’s eyes had travelled over Buffy’s form the evening before they had left Sunnydale. He had seen the lust in the blond vampire’s orbs, had seen the slight bulge in his trousers. Well, Buffy was his now, Angel thought. And Spike better kept his lust in check, or there would be bloodshed after all.

“No, he was a big help, actually,” Willow said that moment. “As I said before. He helped fighting the kid eating demon. And he killed some vampires. Didn’t even hand out a lot around here.” She shrugged, “I suppose with Dawn gone, there wasn’t really a reason to stick around.”

With Dawn gone? Had nobody but him seen that Spike wasn’t interested in Dawn? Buffy had told him that Spike had stayed in Sunnydale after her death to take care of her little sister, but Angel would bet a hundred bucks that it had nothing to do with Dawn and all with a certain dead Slayer, Spike believed himself in love with. Angel had seen it before – with Dru – and he had instantly recognized the signs. Spike had always had the tendency to develop unhealthy obsessions with women. Nothing else could explain him staying with Dru for hundred years. True, Angelus has stayed with Darla, but it had nothing to do with love, and everything with the fun they’d shared.

“Well,” wiping her palms over her thighs, Buffy got up, “That’s good then. And we would really, ”she looked at Angel, ”appreciate if you could take over patrol for another night, wouldn’t we?”

“Definitely,” Angel agreed, standing up as well, “which reminds me. Was everything okay in L.A.?” He winced slightly at mentioning the City of Angels. Married to Buffy or not, they both knew that sooner or later they had to part, even though it was only for days. But Buffy still had her duty in Sunnydale, and Angel couldn’t and wouldn’t give up his work of saving souls, and he knew his wife – God, it was good to think that way – would never expect him, too. She knew too well that he needed to do it. For himself if for nothing else.

“Everything’s fine,” Willow replied with a smile. “They had some kind of problem with a cellar infested with ghosts, but it seems Wesley and Cordelia took care of it.”

“What about Fred?” Angel wanted to know.

“Fred?” the redhead was confused for a moment, “Oh, the girl you brought back from Pylea. Cordelia said she’s wandering around the hotel now. And driving her crazy. But with Cordelia, who knows what’s really going on. It’s not so difficult to get in her way. I can tell, I was there.”

“Good,” the vampire was visibly relieved. Not that he had really thought about Fred the last three weeks. But that didn’t mean he’d completely forgotten about her either. To hear she was finally making improvement was a step into the right direction.

When the door bell rang. Buffy raised a brow, “He rings the bell now? What happened?”

Willow grinned, shrugged, “Maybe he saw your car in driveway. Xander says he’s afraid of Angel.”

At that the dark-haired vampire grinned back, then yelped when his wife nudged him in the ribs. “Hey, that hurt.”

She giggled, “I’ll kiss it later and make it better.”

His eyes darkened instantly, “I can hardly wait.”

“Oh, please, can you save us the googly eyes. Even an undead guy can only stomach so much.”

Angel turned slightly, finding Spike standing in the doorway, wearing his leather duster, and a smirk. “We could,” he replied, putting on a smirk of his own, one he knew Spike would recognize, “but I can’t see a reason why we should.” With that he winked at his grand-childe, caught Buffy around the waist, pulled her against him, and kissed her soundly on the lips.

What had started like fun, instantly grew more passionate as the lovers sunk into each other, their lips opening, their tongues duelling, Angel’s hands wandering over her back, while Buffy was starting to unbutton his shirt. She seemed completely oblivious to their audience.

When Willow came back down the stairs, having quickly changed into trousers and a shirt, she blushed. “Oh,” she looked at Spike who had narrowed his eyes. “We can go now.” She nudged him towards the door but he wouldn’t budge. Seemed fascinated by the scene before him.

“Spike,” she said more sternly. “I think we *need* to go *now*.”

He finally shook his head and followed her. “This is going to make me sick. It’s one thing thinking about them doing it. But being forced to witness … the groping.” He shook his head again when he shut the door on their way out. Now he’d never get a chance to get into the Slayer’s pants. Angel would see to it. Damn it all to Hell.

Willow sighed, “What can I say. Newlyweds.”

At that the blond vampire froze, “Newlyweds?”


Hearing the door being shut, Angel finally raised his head, finding Buffy slightly breathless, her eyes sparkling with humor. “They’re gone,” he whispered.

“Mmmm,” she replied. “You did that on purpose.”

“Of course,” he confirmed without hesitation, grinning devilishly. “He needs to know you are out of reach.”

“I can beat him up any time,” she reminded him. “He can’t hit me anyway.”

“I know,” he sighed, his hands running up and down her arms. “I just don’t like it. The way he’s looking at you.”

“We should probably stake him,” she agreed his unspoken request. “But I … I’ve gotten used to him … kind of. And he helped.” When she saw Angel’s doubtful expression, she said, “He did. He protected Dawn. He even risked his own life. I owe him. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to stake him if it’s necessary.”

Searching her eyes for a moment, Angel nodded finally, “Good.” Then his lips turned into a half-smile, “Can we get to the fun stuff now? We have the house all to ourselves.”

“You mean we have to use every opportunity now?” She grinned, then sighed, “I don’t even want to think about it. The parting. The stolen kisses. We won’t see each other nearly often enough.”

Sensing the change of her mood, he pulled her close once again, “But think about all the reunions,” he kissed her lightly, “and the pent up passion we need to release.”

“Yeah,” she breathed, already drowning in his eyes, “Let’s go to my room.”

“Let’s stay,” he replied.

“Angel!” she looked at him in shock, “There is a huge window over there. Everyone could see us.”

“I’m not going to make it to your room,” he declared, moving their pelvises together so she could feel his stone hard erection.

“Let’s at least try.” With that she steered him towards the doorway, *so* not caring about having an audience for their x-rated activities. Angel was moving backward while she was directing him the best she could with their lips fused, their hands groping, removing clothes on the way. When they finally reached the stairs, Angel had lost his shirt, and his belt was open, while Buffy’s blouse was open, but Angel’s nimble fingers had already made quick work of the front clasp of her bra, cupping her breasts, making her moan into his mouth. “Oh God,” she managed, when she felt his hands squeezing gently, his thumbs brushing over her erected nubs.

“Told you,” he mumbled between kisses, “we’re not going to make it.”

“Mmmm,” she said, burying her hands in his hair, forcing his head down towards her aching breasts. Obligingly he closed his lips around one of her nipples, his tongue circling it, before he gently took it between his teeth, biting it slightly.

Feeling as if she was losing it right there, Buffy pushed him back up the stairs, keeping his mouth on her nipples all the time. They stumbled towards the closest door, went inside and fell on the bed, their mouths fusing once again.

“Buffy,” Her name was a groan, a whisper of sound as Angel dragged his mouth from hers.

She felt a whimper of protest catch in her throat as she forced her eyes open and stared at him in the darkness. “Angel?”

The blatant hunger in her eyes was his undoing. He thought he’d satisfied his need for this woman the last three weeks, but now he realised he was far from it. It seemed that with each time his hunger only grew and from the look in her eyes so did hers. Thanks to his perfect night vision he could see her lips swollen from his kisses, her eyes languorous and smoky with arousal, and he knew once more that this was what he had always been searching for. For a split second, an insane moment, he wondered about the path his life would have taken if Buffy had been alive when he was still human, but it was instantly gone, replaced by the need that was current reality.

“Oh, Buffy,” he whispered, his voice rough with passion and need, when he finally slid her blouse and bra from her shoulders, drinking in the sight of her. “You are so beautiful, so perfect.”

“No,” she replied, trying to speak over the lump in her throat, “You are.” She leaned slightly forwards and kissed his chest, her lips barely touching, but still enough to send shivers all over his body. He groaned and fell back, giving himself over to her ministrations.

God, his skin was like silk there, and Buffy could hear nothing but the drumming pulse in her ears, it made it impossible for her to think of anything but her husband, and she could feel her hands growing impatient with need. Easily she found his pants and with one swift movement pulled them off, leaving his completely exposed to her. Rising above him, she once again started to kiss. His lids, his nose, then his lips, only in passing, before she pressed her own on his neck, then let them travel down his body, licking his nipples, making him moan.

“God, Buffy.”

It was more arousing than anything she knew. The knowledge of pleasing her lover, this lover, made her feel strong and completely woman. With Riley sex had been fun, and sometimes it had been intense, and she had truly liked being with him, but being with Angel was like nothing else. With him it was complete, making her whole and fusing body and soul to something she was sure most people never knew existed. She wanted to devour him, wanted to be devoured by him, and if there was a way she would have crawled right inside of him, to get closer, to reach his core, to become one.

It had been denied so long – to both of them – that now it seemed they couldn’t get enough. Would never get enough. Nothing mattered but finding a way to feed her hunger, to soothe the ache that made her hands shake all of a sudden as she once again cupped his head and lowered her mouth to his. “Angel,” she whispered his name, her voice trembling. “Angel.”

Realising that her pants were still in the way she wiggled above him, and the vampire understood instantly, his hands finding her zipper, and together they removed the remaining bit of clothing separating them.

Buffy gasped at the now familiar feel of Angel’s lean body pressing against hers. He wasn’t really cold, a little cool maybe, but far from being icy the way she’d once thought in her youthful innocence. Yet she could feel the heat burning in him as his hands cupped her bottom, pulling her closer to him. She felt an echo of that heat deep inside – a heavy liquid warmth that settled low and deep, making her achingly aware of an emptiness only Angel could fill. She felt him growing impatient, as if he couldn’t stand it either.

Flipping them around, Angel looked down on her, saw her eyes wide and dark with arousal, her lips slightly parted, “Too fast,” he whispered hoarsely, struggling to slow the moment even as his hardness brushed against the damp heat of her. “But it seems I can’t get enough of you. Ever.”

“Good,” she breathed, moving restlessly beneath him, her legs opening to cradle him, to urge him not to slow, but instead to hurry. “Now,” she begged, almost sobbed, already insane with need. “Now. Please, Angel. Now.” Her hands found his hips, her fingers digging into his skin as she arched her body in silent demand.

And with a groan he gave her what she wanted, what they both needed now. With one powerful thrust, he sheathed himself in her waiting warmth. She cried out, her body arching in shocked pleasure, the movement taking him deeper still until they were finally – finally – so closely joined that it was as if they were two halves of the same whole.

Angel pressed his forehead to her shoulder, struggling for control. But Buffy once again arched beneath him, refusing him to, and he let go, knowing he had a better chance of stopping a hurricane or the world from turning. Bracing himself on his elbows, he began to move within her. It was hard and fast, another explosive coming-together that reached soul deep, wrenching forth a powerful response he’d ever only felt with her.

The delicate ripple of her feminine muscles caressing him, welcoming his invasion, was a pleasure so intense that it hovered on the knife edge of pain. Angel wanted it to last forever, but he could feel Buffy already close to fulfilment beneath him, her slender body tout as a bowstring, her nails digging into his shoulders as the tumbled headlong into oblivion. With a groan, Angel followed her into the spinning tumult, pouring his cool seed into her, shuddering with the intensity of the moment.

The silence that followed seemed almost abrupt and Buffy felt a delicious languor creep over her, replacing the urgency. Drained of strength and willpower for the moment, she cradled his head close to her breasts, while her strong legs held him deep inside of her, never wanting to let go. She felt as if she could lie like this forever, hardly breathing, just savoring the feeling of completion that spread through her body.

She shifted slightly and heard Angel’s unnecessary breath catch. Experimentally she moved again, tightening her inner muscles around him, feeling him stir and start to swell within her,  sending the Gods wherever they were a silent thank for Slayer and vampire strength and recovery. Her body was softening, her skin once again tingling with awareness.

“Buffy.” Her name was a protest. Then a plea.

“Angel.” His name was affirmation. And a plea.

And it began to built again.

Not surprised because they knew it already, knew that the need – the hunger – was just as great every time they came together. They feasted on each other, hands and mouths, touching, kissing, exploring familiar territory, almost fighting each other in their renewed urgency.

Angel moved over her, his hands cupping her buttocks, tilting her so that she took him deeper, and Buffy cried out, her body shuddering as her climax took her, the sensations overwhelming her, consuming her completely. But this time Angel continued to thrust, driving her higher and higher, the pleasure building to an almost frightening intensity.

Her teeth sank into the flesh of his shoulder, her breath coming in deep, panting sobs as she struggled to retain at least a fingertip hold on reality. But Angel wouldn’t allow even that. His hand slid between them, finding the tiny bud of her womanhood and stroking it with his thumb.

Buffy came apart in his arms the next second. She would have screamed if she’d have any breath left, but he’d stolen it, stolen her ability to think. She arched one last time, felt him touch her womb, touch her very soul. And that was the moment he joined her, shuddered, and she felt the throb of his climax deep inside her. And she knew without a doubt that this was what they were made for, that they belonged together, and this time nobody would break them apart again.


Buffy woke from the feeling of Angel’s fingers threading through her hair, and sighed, snuggling closer to him, her arm tightening around his waist. “Mmmmm,” she moaned, feeling completely sated and satisfied. “This is good.”

“Yeah,” came his whispered response. “Perfect.”

“Mmmm,” she said once again. “Nothing more perfect than this.” For a moment silence settled between them, before she spoke again, “Angel?”


“I don’t want to part from you.” A sigh. “Even thinking about seeing you leave makes me feel split open.”

He sighed as well, “Buffy-“

“I know,” she cut him off, “I know we talked about it. And I know it has to be this way. But I still want to be with you all the time. I don’t want to waste a moment.”

“We won’t waste moments,” he replied, shifting slightly so he could look down at her. Her skin was almost translucent in the moonlight streaming through the window. “We will do our jobs, take care of things we have to, and still find enough time to be together.”


“I promise,” he said, convinced of it. “After all we went through, we’ve earned this. They won’t take it from us. Not now.”

“No,” she agreed. “But it could happen soon. Much sooner than we want to.” Even with all the love surrounding her, there was still the fear, the panic she would lose him. That he’d go out on a mission one night and not come back. She had told him the truth. She had learned to cope, to find a way to live, to go on, without him. But now, after what they’d shared over the past three weeks, she couldn’t imagine it anymore. Didn’t want to.

“Yes, it could,” he replied honestly, not able to lie to her. “But we are strong. We both are. Because we love each other. I survived Hell, and you …,” he paused, feeling familiar pain and regret, “Survived being ripped from Heaven.”

“Yeah,” she whispered softly, glad that at least with Angel she could be honest. She had told him about Heaven, about what she’d felt while she was gone. It was enough. To have him listen and understand. They’d agreed not to tell the others, not to burden them with pain that was sweetened by an unexpected reunion of souls. How could she resent her friends for bringing her back when only that had made it possible for her to be with Angel again, to find the lost half of herself.

“We are going to make it,” he told her, “I just know it.”

“I love you, Angel. So very much.”

“I love you, too. This is the beginning. Our second chance.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “Angel?”


“You’re hard again.”

A chuckle. “I know.”

A sigh. “Then let’s not waste a good opportunity.”

Another chuckle, “You’re insatiable.”

“And don’t you love it.”

“More than anything else.”


NEXT: The Sun, the Moon - and A Vampire For Breakfast