The Sun, The Moon - And a Vampire for Breakfast

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
Pairing: B/A, W/T, X/A
Rating: NC-17
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”, and “Turning Into Light”, because this doesn’t make sense without the first story.
Summary: More News from the Newlyweds
Feedback: oh yes, please!!! send it to
Dedication: For Liz and Tracy, my faithful betas – who didn’t beta this, but who are always ready to help when I need it! Thanks, guys.
Note: About the title – just. don’t. ask.

“Why are you following me again?”

Buffy stopped three feet away from the grave she had been searching for. Mr. Thomas Gaynor had died three days ago from severe blood loss, and even though she wasn’t sure he was going to rise, she thought it was better to be safe than sorry. Plus it was easier to introduce them to Mr. Pointy that way. They were still confused and weak from their struggle to find their way back up. Having had personal experience with that kind of rebirth, Buffy could relate.

“I’m not sure your husband would take it well if something happened to you,” Spike replied spitting out the word husband as if he was choking on it. Which he probably was, the Slayer thought. Had to be a bummer, having Angel of all people take the place you so longed to fill yourself. Not that she had ever considered Spike in that position. It was just too weird – with him being soulless and all – and really kind of gross.

“So you’re – protecting me?” she asked a little incredulous.

“So? I did it before, if you would kindly remember. And the little nibblet.”

“And I’ll be grateful for that.” Buffy didn’t look at him, just stared at the fresh earth on Mr. Gaynor’s grave.

He snorted, “Yeah. I’ve seen that.”

She slowly raised her head, one of her brows lifting, “Well, I didn’t stake you.”

He snorted again, “As if you could.”

Her reply was a chuckle. “Let’s not discuss this. Besides, I’m busy.”

“What – waiting for Mr,” Spike gestured at the grave and right that moment a hand appeared. “Oh, bloody hell. What kind of pathetic vampire are you,” he tossed at the newly made whose head followed the hand. “Didn’t you hear the Slayer is waiting for you up here?”

The features of the new vampire contorted while he struggled to get his body through the fresh soil, “Slayer,” he hissed.

“Knew that already,” Buffy replied, her voice bored. She pulled her stake from the back of her pants, and then with one quick movement did what she once had been called for. “Doesn’t give you any bonus points,” she told the settling dust.

“It hurts, you know,” Spike commented, looking at the remains of the vampire with disgust.

“What?” Buffy coughed slightly and pushed the stake back underneath the waistband of her pants. “To see one of your kind die?” she laughed and looked at Spike. “I’m crying already.”

“Huh?” He stared at her for a moment, before shaking his head, “I meant to watch what’s becoming of the most powerful species on this planet. We used to rule this world, used to bring fear into people’s hearts. But this,” he shook his head again, “is embarrassing.”

“Oh, please,” the Slayer gave him a last look before starting to walk away from her work, “as if you’re giving a shit what’s going to happen to ‘your kind’. Besides, I can’t think of anything more embarrassing than a vampire who can’t bite.”

“Oh, sure, just use me to get rid of your frustration,” he yelled, then followed her, covering the distance between them with quick, easy steps, which was easy because she stopped dead in her tracks.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. AND – it’s not any of your business.”

“Come one, Slayer,” Spike grinned, “You don’t need to lie to me. I’m sensing it anyway. How long has it been since your hubby was around. Close to two weeks, right. Oh, sexual frustration is such a bitch.”

“Needs one to know one,” she tossed at him, starting to walk again.

He frowned at her back, needing a moment to understand the meaning of her words. But when they sank in he followed her with a growl, “I have you know that I get enough. Wherever I want. Whenever I want.”

Buffy grinned, “Sure.”

“You don’t believe me?” His face showed outrage now.

“Sure, I do,” she replied lightly, leaving no doubt that she didn’t.

Stomping after her he grumbled, “I really, really want to meet Captain Cardboard again. He did this after all. I’d love to see his face if he hears about your new old better half.”

Buffy shot him a look over her shoulder, but kept from commenting. Talking about Riley was certainly not one of her favourite pastimes – and doubly so with Spike who had never liked the commando. Besides – with Angel back in her life, why should she dwell on it anyway? And Angel was back in her life – even though they seemed to spend more time apart than together. She gave a stone a vicious kick, sending it flying against a nearby tree, then quickly glanced at Spike, so not looking forwards to one more of his snide remarks. But fortunately the blond vampire was still busy with his inner monologue about Riley.

Just for good measure Buffy kicked another stone away, cursing fate for keeping her and Angel apart for two full weeks.


“I really think we-“

“*Don’t* need you this weekend.” Wesley cut off Cordelia with a look, turning to Angel the next moment and smiling at the vampire. “We all understand that you put in a lot of time for the agency during the past two weeks, and that you long to meet your wife again.”

“Thanks,” Angel replied with a slight smile, resuming to polish the dagger before replacing it in the weapons’ cabinet.

“Wife,” Cordelia snorted. When she saw the vampire rising a brow, she sighed, “I know, I know. But … I didn’t even get to see the ring so far. And don’t think I’ve already forgiven you for marrying her in a secrecy.”

Putting the dagger down, Angel looked at the seer, “We didn’t marry in secrecy, Cordy. We never even planned to, until we were in Vegas. And then – it seemed natural. Like something we should’ve done a long time ago. It felt right. Can’t you just be happy for me?”

Instantly feeling like a heel, the brunette walked over to her friend and put a hand on his arm, “I am happy for you. And for her.” When she saw the doubt in his eyes, she rolled hers, “I admit, Buffy and I will probably never be the bestest buds. But hey,” she grinned, “she’s getting you. Oh, wait – maybe I should pray for her each night now.”

Angel gave her a mock scowl, then grinned himself. “Thanks. This means a lot. It’s not easy to be married that way. Even with friends who support our choice.”

“And we do,” she said emphatically, looking at Wesley, “Don’t we?”

“We most certainly do,” he agreed, grinning as well, amazed how Angel always managed to find Cordelia’s weak spots. The seer only put up a tough front, deep inside she was a hidden romantic, Wesley mused. And exceptionally pretty tonight, in her training outfit. Ever since she’d taken up sparring with the vampire, she wore it constantly – and it fitted her in all the right places. Coughing at his own train of thoughts, the ex-watcher sat down behind his desk. “And because we do, we are all happy to see you leave for Sunnydale tonight.”

“He going to see his honey?”

They looked up only to see Gunn leaning in the doorway, his eyes on Angel.

“Hey, look who’s honoring us with his presence for a change,” Cordelia raised a brow at him. “What brought you here?”

The African-American shrugged, “Thought I’d check in with you.”

“Well, now that you are here,” Wesley said slowly, trying not to show his dismay with the other man’s repeated absences, “Is there anything we can help you with?”

“Thought it might be the other way around,” Gunn replied, shifting uncomfortable in the doorway. He hated the current situation. These people were his friends. But there were other friends, too. Old friends. Friends he had known and trusted for years. And they needed his help now. This friends, however, seemed to do fine without him – at least most of the time. “Where is Fred, by the way.”

“Up in her room,” Cordelia told him with a sigh.

“I thought she was coming out more these days?”

“She does – or rather she did,” the brunette said, “But ever since she heard about Angel’s newly acquired wife, she once again prefers to stay closed in.”

Angel frowned at her, not liking the insinuation that Fred’s behaviour was somehow his fault. “I didn’t tell her to hide,” he defended himself.

“No, you didn’t. But you didn’t do anything against her falling in love with you,” the seer argued.

“Cordelia, I don’t think-,” Wesley tried to interfere but instantly realised that it was in vain.

“She didn’t-“ Angel started, but the brunette cut him off.

“Of course she did. Dark, mysterious hero saves her from a dimension where they called her cow for five years – oh, please. Maybe she didn’t actually fall in love with you, but you’d have to be blind not to see the googly eyes she made at you. She was devastated when she heard about yours and Buffy’s little, secret trip to Vegas.

“It wasn’t …,” the vampire began, then sighed, “Look, I accept that Fred is more or less my responsibility. And I will talk to her. As soon as I’m back. Because if you like it or not – there is another responsibility I have. That to my wife. We didn’t see each other for two weeks, as Wesley pointed out.” With that he put the dagger back into the weapons’ cabinet. “And that means I’m going to leave – now. See you all Sunday night.”

Giving first Wesley, then Gunn, a nod, he gazed at the seer for a long moment before slowly walking out of the hotel.


Buffy woke up to the sensation of cool velvet touching her skin. The next moment she realised that her nightgown was gone, as was her sheet and that she was lying naked – and completely exposed – on her bed - and that there was a weight beside her.

The velvet moved from her shoulder over her collarbone towards her neck, stilling for a moment over the mark there, caressing it gently, before wandering to the little hole in front. The Slayer sighed, keeping her eyes closed.

The noise was answered with a low chuckle and a cool breeze of breath floating along her chin, before lips were landing on her right breast, and a tongue started tracing the mound of her already erect nipple.

“Oh,” she breathed, and no longer able to lay still, she lifted her arms, burying her hands in familiar masses of soft hair, pulling the head it was attached to closer, intensifying the contact.

Instantly Angel replaced his tongue with his teeth, grazing the nipple softly, biting it with infinite finesse, making her gasp and arch in pleasure. “Oh, God,” she moaned. “Oh, God.”

“No, just a vampire,” he replied, chuckling again.

“My vampire,” she managed, urging him to the abandoned right breast, where the other nipple was aching for him.

Angel obeyed immediately, then moved to cover her body with soft, light kisses. Adoring her. Worshipping her. Wanting her more than he had ever wanted anything.

Buffy’s hands fisted in the sheets, her chest rising and falling with each expectant breath she took.

Then – unexpectedly – he stopped.

But before she could protest he touched her again. Featherlight. Hesitant. Her nipples began to ache again. And again he could not resist. While his lips closed over one his fingers played with the other. She moaned and squirmed. His hands travelled beneath her breasts to the flesh below. Licking. Nipping. Kissing.

“You are the most beautiful thing on earth,” he whispered into the darkness, before Buffy felt him lifting his hips and removing his pants he’d obviously not shed before. His erection thrust forward as if searching for her body. She was everything to him. How he’d ever been able to live without her, without the pleasure of being with her, was beyond his imagination. But she was his. Not just tonight. But forever. If on earth or … whatever came later – he knew it for sure. They would be together.

He started touching her everywhere, his hands examining, reclaiming and petting. Her face. Her breasts. Her belly. The inside of her thighs. He eased her to her side and reacquainted himself with every inch of her back, her hips and buttocks. He lavished attention on her body, arousing her and at the same time arousing himself to an almost unbearable point. But this loving was for her. He’d been away for two whole weeks, and he wanted to pleasure her.

His lips joined his fingertips, kissing her mouth and then moving to explore her neck, her ears, her throat, once again stilling over the mark his teeth had left for all times. Once he’d been ashamed of it. Now it seemed as if it just had to be there, showing the world that they belonged together against all odds.

She shivered and his tongue came out to play again, travelling over her arms and legs, painting trails between her fingers; then under, over and around her breasts until she lifted her hips and arched her back as her heels dug into the rumpled covers at their feet. Placing a hand in the middle of her belly, he soothed her, while he spread her legs apart with his other hand and lowered his mouth to kiss her intimately.

Only a few strokes of his tongue and she was crying out for him. Close, so very close to fulfilment. Not able to wait any longer, Angel lifted her hips, brining her up to meet him, and took her with one quick, powerful thrust. And then he waited, unmoving, except for her laboured breaths nothing was disturbing the quiet of the room. Being inside her was as close to heaven as he could imagine. She was home and comfort and unbearable pleasure.

It was perfect happiness.

Feeling her wriggling beneath him, he started to move. Slowly. Back and forth. Teasing her with gentle strokes until he could hear her groaning with impatience. But he kept on. Kept tormenting her – and himself, making love to her with the utmost tenderness, savouring each moment their bodies were one, knowing that she was a part of him forever.

Her slick folds tightened around his shaft, squeezing and releasing until he thought he would die. When he sensed she was on the verge of coming, he increased the tempo and deepened the lunges until she bucked underneath him and cried out, her climax hitting her full force. He pumped into her, not letting up until the moment of completion. In those seconds after he convulsed with shattering intensity, their bodies were as intimately entwined as their souls, giving them the utmost satisfaction from the culmination of their mating. It was a moment Angle wanted to last forever.

Completely drained and sated, Angel finally managed to raise his head, “Good Morning,” his voice rumbled over her.

Buffy smiled in the darkness, “Good Morning to you too.” She sighed in pleasure, “And what a morning it is.”

“I kind of liked it myself,” he replied and she felt him smiling against her skin, his face once again resting between her breasts.

“What time is it?” she wanted to know.

“About an hour before sunrise,” he replied, “which given the time of the year should be somewhere around five o’clock.”

She groaned, “Five o’clock on Sunday morning. Way too early.”

“So, what do you want to do?”

She grinned at him in the darkness, only able to see the outlines of his face, but knowing he would be able to see her just fine. “How about some hours of sleep. We should be well rested after that – and could,” she licked her lips, “continue where we left off.”

One of his brows shot up, “Continue?”

“Or start new. Whatever it is, I’m up to it. I’m seriously deprived of your tender loving care as it is.”

He lifted his head once again, kissing the adorable pout on her lips, “I’m living to serve,” he whispered.

“Good to know,” she whispered back. “I’ll remind you later.”


Dawn backed away from the door, certain her face had turned into interesting shades of red. She jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder, “God,” she exclaimed, glaring at the red-head behind her. “Willow! You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Well,” the witch looked at her expectantly. “Is she coming.”


Willow sighed, “Buffy, of course. Weren’t you going to wake her?”

“Uh … oh, Buffy!” the teenager coughed nervously. “No, I think we let her sleep. It’s Sunday after all. I mean, she needs her sleep, right?”

“Okay,” the witch put her hands at her hips, “What’s going on.”

“Nothing,” Dawn replied, then exhaled a breath, “Alright. You want to know what’s going on? Angel – that’s what’s going on.”

“He is in there?”

“In there?” Dawn gulped, then let out a laugh, “You could say that. Very much in there.”

Willow frowned at her for a moment before she suddenly understood – and instantly became burning red as well. “Oh … oh! I … I mean … oh! Ooops. Okay, so … maybe we should let her sleep anyways.”

“Yes,” the teenager nodded emphatically.


Buffy and Angel were smiling when they entered the kitchen an hour later, holding hands. “Hey,” the Slayer greeted her friends, then stopped dead in her tracks, “Oh, God, I completely forgot. We were supposed to have breakfast together this morning.”

Willow smiled at the couple, waving a hand, “No problem,” she said, “As soon as we saw Angel’s car in the driveway we decided to let you sleep. After all, you haven’t seen each other for a while. I’m sure you had a lot of catching up to do.” She winked at her best friend when Buffy’s cheeks turned a slight shade of pink.

“Thanks, Willow,” Angel said, kissing his wife on the temple before he moved towards the fridge in search of the blood he knew was stored there.  He hadn’t fed last night, too eager to get to Sunnydale, and the activities of the past night hadn’t done anything to recharge his strength, even though he wouldn’t have wanted to miss a single moment. A smile was still playing around his lips, when Dawn spoke behind him.

“You know, after Riley left, I thought this was finally over. But now it starts again. Don’t you know how gross this is? I *so* don’t care for sex-ed in my own house.” She sipped from her cup, and ignored the startled looks around her or that Xander was choking on his cornflakes.