The Silken Cage: Journey

 

A.N.  Originally posted to my archive as Part 20a, 20b and 20c.  The dolphins make a reappearance here, so I will repeat my earlier warning:  attempting to swim with wild dolphins may violate Federal law, and there have been a few recent reports of dolphin aggression against humans.  If the idea of swimming with dolphins appeals to you, please look into one of the licensed, commercial services that can help you to do so under controlled circumstances.

Further note:  There is a series of short quotes, usually just a few words each, from several eps in which events significant in the B/A relationship transpired.  I would expect most B/A or B/Aus fans to recognize them.  Again, no infringement is intended.  The quotes hint at the memories that Buffy has of the canon events, and the point of including them in a work of fanfic is as a commentary on how living through such events shaped Buffy.

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The real horseback ride with Mai was far more enjoyable than the dream version had prepared her to expect. Freed of the necessity of planning an escape, Buffy was able to give herself over to an appreciation of the visual splendors Kauai’s North Shore had to offer. She marveled at the dramatic plunge of waterfalls lacing the 3,500 foot high cliffs of Hanalei Valley, admired the lush jungle foliage through which the trail wound, and relished the warm Hawaiian sun on her face and the sight of the impossibly blue and cloudless Hawaiian sky. The lightening of her spirits was obvious. She seemed unable to keep from smiling, and laughed easily for the sheer joy of seeing a particularly brilliant flower, or watching a brightly plumed bird take flight overhead. Mai looked at her askance, but made no comment beyond suggesting where to stop for lunch, and asking whether Buffy wanted to return to the beach, head into Hanalei town and take a motor cruise around the island, or keep riding.

"The beach," Buffy said firmly. "Horses? Nice, but not really my thing. And, with the time I’ve spent on that freighter, added to the fact that we’ll be getting back on board by tomorrow, the motor boat isn’t as tempting as it might be. Plus, dolphins. How often am I going to get a chance to swim with them?"

"Then we ought to head back now," Mai said. "That way, you’ll have almost the entire afternoon for the beach. Although, if you just want to spend a few hours there, we could continue our ride a bit further."

"No. Going back now is fine," Buffy said. "Not that I’m not enjoying this, but I want more time for surf and sand than we had yesterday."

"As you wish," Mai said, and turned her horse on the path.

Buffy enjoyed the ride back to the stables as much as she had enjoyed the ride out, but was still glad to get off the horse and back into Mai’s sleek Miata. Mai had the top down for the drive back to their bungalow, and Buffy relaxed and enjoyed the view. Mai didn’t seem particularly talkative that morning, and Buffy didn’t feel particularly inclined to draw her out. She just wanted to enjoy the warmth and beauty of the morning.

It just past noon by the time they got back to the retreat. Buffy was humming as she ran lightly up the stairs to the apartment. Angelus wasn’t in the living room. She found him, instead, sleeping in the bed they shared. He was naked, the sheet draped loosely over his hips, revealing his sculpted upper body to her appreciative gaze. He was still and unbreathing and extraordinarily handsome, as only the undead can be when asleep, and she caught her breath at the sheer male beauty of him. Yet, looking at him, she was more aware than ever of the difference between Angel and Angelus.

Even in repose, Angelus’ features spoke of arrogance, power, unrelenting will. The few times she’d seen Angel asleep, she’d been conscious of a vulnerability, almost innocence, expressed in his features that was totally absent now.

He wasn’t Angel. He would never be Angel. And while he might love her obsessively, passionately, and jealously, he would never love her selflessly. He might treat her with tenderness for a demon, but not with true tenderness. She wondered if she would ever stop wishing for that, wishing that she were with Angel, not Angelus. Angelus might be winning her over, she might be coming to care for the demon as well as the man, but she would probably never stop wishing that the man could return to her. But, as long as the demon didn’t know that . . .

She leaned forward, intending to press a soft kiss to his brow, and found herself roughly grabbed, pulled over his chest, then twisted beneath him and kissed thoroughly. Having no objections to such treatment, she wound her arms around her lover’s neck and enthusiastically kissed him back.

"I thought you were asleep," she said huskily when he finally broke the kiss.

"Light sleeper," he explained. She wondered if he was going to test how much she’d healed since last night, the thought making her nipples harden in anticipation. However, he contented himself with another kiss, then rolled away, releasing her.

"How was your ride with Mai?"

"Gorgeous," Buffy said, turning on her side to face him. "Are you sure we have to leave tomorrow? I mean, can’t we just catch another freighter in a week or two?"

"We could, but we won’t," Angelus said coolly, wondering if this was a ploy, if she had reason to think that lingering in the states would allow her Watcher and her extremely annoying friends to catch up with them. Her next words and actions soothed away his doubts.

"Okay," she said agreeably. "But maybe we can come back here again? For a longer stay?"

Angelus raised his brows at that, smirking in pleasure. Buffy was beginning to accept her place at his side, if she could think in terms of long-range plans involving both of them.

"Perhaps next winter," he said temperately. "We’ll have done a bit of traveling by then, and you might find other places you enjoy, even more."

"I can’t imagine that," Buffy said.

"Spoken like the innocent you are," Angelus chuckled, wondering how she would react to the exotic charms of Japan, the dangerous beauty of an Indian jungle, the stark power of the Egyptian desert by moonlight, a thousand other vistas he planned to show her, share with her. By next winter, she might not even remember her desire to return to Hawaii. "Tell me, what else do you plan to do today?"

"Mai and I are going back to the beach," she said, walking her fingers playfully up his chest.

"Then don’t let me keep you," he said picking up her hand and lightly kissing the fingers before letting her go, once more. "Enjoy yourself. And be back her about an hour before sunset."

Buffy pouted. "But the sunset was so gorgeous on the beach!"

"And, now that you’ve seen it from the beach, you ought to see it from . . .another perspective."

Buffy looked at him thoughtfully. His voice had assumed a caressing note. She wondered what surprises he had in store for her now. Pleasant ones, she hoped, and she shouldn’t anger him by insisting that she wanted to stay at the beach. "If you say so," she said finally. Pleased, Angelus kissed her again.

For the first time since he’d captured her, Buffy was free to simply enjoy his kisses without beating herself up over yielding to a monster, without worrying about her sacred duty, or the way she was failing it. She was free to savor the taste of Angel that lingered on Angelus’ lips, free to relish the feel of his skin on hers, without guilt or remorse. She had Angel’s blessings. She had the assurances of her prophetic Slayer’s dreams that the Powers she served wanted her to be exactly where she was, doing exactly what she was doing: binding one of the most fearsome demons ever to have plagued the earth close to her with the cords of passion. For the first time since she had been called, Duty and Desire were aligned, rather than in conflict.

And, as she ground herself against the concrete evidence of Angelus’ own mounting desire, she realized that only one thing was keeping her from stripping off her clothes and offering herself to him, forgetting all about the beach and the sun and anything but the delirious rapture she could find in his arms. But she wasn’t able to seek out that rapture now. As the twinges rippling through her feminine core warned her, she wasn’t completely healed.

"Damn it," she swore softly as she pulled away from his embrace. Angelus raised a brow. "This is all your fault," she pouted. "My healing powers aren’t kicking in because of those stupid drugs."

"You’re still healing more quickly than a normal girl," Angelus pointed out with a chuckle. "We’ll check your progress . . .later." He kissed her again, hard and quick, then let her go. "You should get into your swim suit if you want to get to the beach."

"Wanna watch me change?" she offered impudently.

"Wanna be even more sore than you are now?" he returned dryly. "Because, darling, I really wouldn’t mind. You, however, might."

She cocked her head at him, considering his words. "I bet that if you wanted to, you could make it so I wouldn’t," she said slowly. "I bet if you put your mind to it, I wouldn’t feel any pain at all." Encouraged by the rumbling growl in his throat, and the rising heat in his eyes, Buffy crawled back up the bed to him, leaning over him until her lips skimmed just above his ear. "I bet," she whispered, "that you could make me so wet, and you could slide into me so slow, that I’d come hard as soon as you were inside me." She licked the shell of his ear, relishing his hiss of appreciation as she did so. "I bet that you could stay still inside me for as long as you wanted. I bet that you could fuck me for hours, slow and easy and without any pain, and that when you finally came, you’d feel so good and so cold inside me, that we’d both want to die." With a snarl, he pushed her onto her back, and she realized that he’d gone into game face. She laughed and pulled him close, kissing him fiercely, letting her tongue slip into his mouth, flicking against his razor-sharp fangs. Growling, he pulled away before she could succeed in opening a small cut from which to feed him drops of her blood.

"You’re right," he told her, "if I wanted to, I could."

"Oh, goody!" she chortled and reached for him again. The kiss he gave her was punishing. She moaned, lifting her legs to wrap around his waist, willing to ignore the twinge of discomfort from her still-sensitive clit if it meant she could get closer to her lover. To her increasing frustration, he grabbed her knees and pushed her away, before pulling entirely out of her embrace.

"The problem, darling girl, is that I don’t want to," Angelus said as he stood up, towering above her from the foot of the bed.

"You don’t?" Buffy squeaked, wide eyed, sitting up against the headboard, feeling humiliated and foolish. How could she possibly have read him so wrong?

Recognizing that her wholly unwarranted insecurities about her appeal to him were surfacing, Angelus couldn’t resist laughing. "My seductive, innocent darling, don’t misunderstand me. It isn’t you I don’t want: it’s taking things slow, at least right now. When you speak to me the way you just did, when you look at me like you are looking, when you offer yourself so deliciously, the last thing in the world I want to do is be gentle with you. One more word, my love, and I will not be able to stop myself from pounding you into the mattress. One more sultry glance, and I will fuck you until you come blood, and while we will both undoubtedly want to die from the sheer force of pleasure I am damned sure we will both feel, we will then have days to regret our mutual impetuosity. Because you will be in more discomfort than ever, and I will have to continue to deny myself. And, my heart: when it comes to you, I’m not at all inclined to deny myself."

"Oh," she said simply, reeling from the heat of his words, and the implication of what he was telling her. Reading her reactions perfectly, Angelus smirked down at her. Fuck, he loved the way she wanted him. Sweet as dominating her, forcing her, making her want him despite her hatred had been, there was something about her willingness, about the blossoming of her lush sensual nature under his tutelage that affected him like an aphrodisiac. He really did need to get her out of there before all his good intentions went right out the window.

"Be a good girl, get your bathing suit, go into the bathroom and get changed," he told her now, reaching a hand to help her off the bed. "Enjoy your outing with Mai, and remember, the more rest you get, the more quickly you will heal." He leaned forward to whisper in low in her ear. "And the sooner I can make you scream in pleasure." Buffy moaned and leaned into him.

"Promise?" she said, looking up at him through slumberous eyes.

"Count on it,’ he growled as the invitation in her eyes pulled him that much closer to the brink.

"Sounds like a plan," Buffy said with a throaty laugh, before she kissed him, and went to change.

She’s donned a swimsuit and beach coat in a matter of moments, and was soon on her way back down to Mai, blowing a kiss to Angelus as she passed their bedroom on her way out. He grinned wolfishly back at her before returning his attention to the newspaper he was reading.

Buffy felt ridiculously happy. Angelus’ behavior just now had been the exact opposite of his behavior in her dream. He liked her willing, even aggressive, more than he liked hurting her. That was a very, very good thing. She was perfectly willing, and looked forward to being more aggressive. She did not like it when he hurt her, and she was going to devote herself to weaning him away from his own enjoyment of that particular aspect of his vampiric nature. She was also going to devote herself to changing the balance of power between them. Their relationship was too one-sided, with Angelus in total control. The balance needed to be redressed, and she was looking forward to getting things on a more even footing. It wouldn’t be easy: she wasn’t so naïve as to think that he was just going to roll over and become a tame lap-dog because she was keeping him happy in bed. But, she knew that if she handled him delicately, she could get him to do things her way. Perhaps not everything, but any move toward equality would be a good thing. She wasn’t about to spend the rest of her life as a victim: she’d allowed herself to spend too much time in that mindset, already. She was the Slayer, a force to be reckoned with, and if Angelus had taken the unprecedented step of capturing her, and making her his mate, he would find that she would recreate that role to suit herself . . .and make him love every minute of it.

On that pleasant thought, she rapped on the door to Mai's apartments.

Robert opened the door almost before she’d finished knocking. Buffy breezed past him with a cheery greeting and headed over to the dining room table where Mr. Sung was loading china and silverware into a large wicker picnic basket.

"A little fragile for the beach, don’t you think?" she asked.

"They would be, if I didn’t use magic to make them resistant to breakage," Mai explained as she walked into the living room, fastening a scarf over her glossy black hair. "But the idea of serving one of Mr. Sung’s delicate luncheons on something so. . .ordinary. . .as paper plates is akin to blasphemy." Mr. Sung bowed deeply, acknowledging the compliment, but remained as silent as ever.

"Ready to go?" Mai asked as she picked up a pair of sunglasses. Her bathing suit was another one-piece; white, this time, effortlessly elegant. For once, Buffy had enough self-confidence not to compare herself unfavorably to the demoness. Her own two-piece was flattering to her figure and her coloring, and she knew that she could hold her own with Mai, if she needed to.

More importantly, she knew that she didn’t need to: whatever had gone on between Angelus and Mai in the past, he hadn’t been interested in picking up where he’d left off. She didn’t delude herself about Angelus. Faithfulness was not in his nature. He’d visited Mai, and had opportunities to sate his needs with the demoness, if that’s what he wanted to do. There wouldn’t have been a thing she could have done about it, but as it was, she was fairly certain he hadn’t done anything with Mai that she would particularly object to. The first time he’d left Mai’s apartments to return to her, he’d immediately made love to her with vigor and hunger. The night before, he’d seemed perfectly willing to do so again, and had been stopped only by her own discomfort, as he had been just a few moments earlier. She was, therefore, certain that he hadn’t strayed from her bed. A week ago, she would have been grateful if his attention had wandered. Now, she was determined to keep it focused solely on herself. Happily, what she wanted and what Angelus wanted seemed to be the same, for now. And if there came a time when they were not . . .Buffy pushed the thought aside. She had enough to deal with for the moment, and didn’t need to borrow trouble.

She realized that Mai was looking at her inquiringly, waiting for her answer.

"Ready," Buffy said. Mai nodded, picked up her beach coat, and led Buffy back outside to the landing where the motorboat waited to take them back to the private beach. Mr. Sung loaded in the picnic basket and an insulated cooler, then departed with yet another bow.

"The perfect servant, isn’t he?" Buffy observed as Mai worked the controls of the boat. "Nothing exists for him but you. I don’t think I’ve heard him say a single word since I got here. Or Robert, for that matter. Awfully quiet people, you employ.

"Not really," Mai told her as she began to guide the boat away from the dock and out onto the river. "Mr. Sung and Robert aren’t exactly people, you see. They are demi-humans who were raised in my home dimension. All such creatures have a strain of Lamia in their ancestry."

"So, they are part demon?" Buffy said, uneasy that her Slayer senses hadn’t picked up on that. As if she’d read Buffy’s mind, Mai smiled reassuringly.

"A very small part. Neither has more than one sixteenth Lamian blood."

"I see," Buffy said. That certainly explained why her "Spidey senses" hadn’t kicked in. That small an amount of demonic heritage really didn’t count for much in the scheme of things. For all practical purposes, Mai’s servants were as human as Buffy herself. "And I guess that explains why they can move around in sunlight, and don’t drink blood. Um, they don’t drink blood, right?"

"Not that I know of," Mai said, amused. "Certainly, they have no physical reason to do so. Vampires were created by mixing our blood directly with that of humans. Demi-humans like Robert and Mr. Sung were created in a more mundane fashion. Interbreeding. Not without it’s difficulties, you understand: Lamia physiology leans more to the reptilian than the mammalian. But, not completely so, especially in our human forms."

"Are you telling me that your people breed with humans to create servants?" Buffy said, somewhat shocked by the idea.

"My people breed with humans for the same reasons they breed with us and that both of us will mate with vampires," Mai laughed. "Mutual attraction. And, not all products of such unions become servants. The position one holds amongst the Lamia may initially be set by one’s house status, but where one ends up depends upon what one makes of oneself."

"But, Robert and Mr. Sung don’t seem to have made very much of themselves," Buffy pointed out.

"Really, my dear, you are quite naïve," Mai said with another tinkling laugh. "You continue to try to place human values on a non-human culture. You think that a servant is a subordinate, someone with lower status than, say, a president of a corporation, or a physician. But amongst the Lamia there is more prestige in being the servant of a powerful member of a powerful house than there is in being the undisputed head of a weak house. Both Robert and Mr. Sung are very ambitious. And very clever. They are part of my kin group, distant family. Poor cousins, if you will. Their service to me enhances their standing within the family, and the higher my standing rises, the higher their own prestige. What you must understand is that both had the choice to take other positions in our world, and if they chose service, there were other members of our kin group they could have gone to, members who had far more standing than I, when they joined my household."

"But that’s changed?"

"Considerably," Mai said with a small smile. "As Robert and Mr. Sung were astute enough to realize it would, when they came to me a century or so ago."

"Oh," Buffy said, re-evaluating her take on the two being as human as herself. Still, if longevity were the only result of their demonic ancestry, it stood to reason that they would slip beneath her radar. As they posed no threat she could discern, she dismissed them and considered what else Mai had said about the Lamia. The few glimpses into her society that Mai had given Buffy made it seem increasing Byzantine in its complexity and feudal in its outlook. She hoped she wouldn’t be drawn into it any more deeply than she already had been.

Mai seemed to consider the subject closed, and Buffy was left with nothing to do but enjoy the ride. That suited her perfectly. She lay back in the boat, trailing a hand in the sun-warmed water as they rode down the river to where it emptied into the ocean. It wasn’t a very long ride, and they were soon tying up at another dock. Buffy looked over at a structure that hadn’t been there the day before.

"I had Robert come out earlier and set up the pavilion," Mai explained indicating the large, square tent with an open front that had been placed midway along the beach. "We can spread the quilt in front of it, so that you can sunbathe, but shade will be available if it gets too hot for you."

"Good idea," Buffy nodded. She wasn’t particularly interested in the shade just then, however. The dolphins were leaping in the distance, and she was impatient to join them. She quickly helped Mai spread the quilt and unload the picnic hamper and cooler, then kicked off her sandals and her make-shift beach coat­–another of Angelus’ silk shirts.

"Did you use tanning lotion?" Mai asked her.

"I put some on when I changed," Buffy assured her. "But I could use help with my back. I didn’t want to bother Angelus." She couldn’t help grinning when she said it, recalling her decision not to ask him because she’d been sure that if he touched her, he wouldn’t have been able to keep from taking her back to bed, whatever the consequences.

"All right. Let me have the bottle," Mai said agreeably. Buffy handed it to her, turned her back, and submitted to the efficient, dispassionate touch of the demoness. Mai did a thorough job, spreading lotion over Buffy’s back, even beneath the straps of her suit. Then she handed the bottle back to Buffy.

"I’m going to suggest that you put a little more on your hips and back, below the top line of your suit. Unless, of course, you want to take the suit off altogether? We’re perfectly private here, and I was thinking of dispensing with mine, if you’ve no objections? I rather enjoy full exposure to the sun, when I can get it."

"Wow. Hadn’t thought of that," Buffy said. Oddly the idea didn’t make her at all uncomfortable. Mai’s reactions to her were too distant, too polite, too formal for Buffy to worry about being naked in front of her. On the other hand, the idea of being naked in the ocean, of lounging on the blanket with nothing between herself and the sun was a very appealing one. Angelus couldn’t go out in the sunlight, and while her Slayer nature made her very much a creature of the night, it also, paradoxically, instilled her with a need for sunlight and warmth. It was as if the sun reminded her of everything she was supposed to protect, and she drew a certain strength and comfort from being bathed in its rays. "I think I’ll try it," she affirmed.

"Fine. But, put more lotion on the normally unexposed parts of yourself. We’re at the peak hours for sunburn, here."

"But it’s the middle of fall!" Buffy protested.

"And, it’s Hawaii," Mai said firmly, as she began to remove her beach coat and sandals. "I’ve lived here for years. I know what the sun can do to those who are unprepared."

"Okay," Buffy gave in. She undid her top, and spread the lotion over her pale breasts. When she discarded the rest of her suit, she slathered more lotion over her rear end and her inner thighs. Mai had taken her hair down from it’s coil, removed her suit, and was lying naked on the blanket. She was as elegantly beautiful naked as she was dressed. But, her golden skin seemed that color more by nature than by exposure to the sunlight.

"Shouldn’t you be using lotion?" Buffy asked.

"Lamia don’t get sunburn," Mai said equitably.

"Okay," Buffy shrugged. "I’m going to go off for a swim."

"Enjoy yourself. You’ll need to reapply the lotion in about forty-five minutes, though. It’s waterproof, but . . ."

"No problem," Buffy agreed, then headed for the ocean.

Immersing her naked body in the warm seawater was a delightful experience. She felt sensuous and free, and very much at one with the ocean. The dolphins greeted her joyfully, and she abandoned herself to frolicking with them, and joining their play. She was able to swim past the barrier that had stopped her the day before, but that didn’t matter, now. She simply swam where the dolphins led, until it was time to go back for more lotion.

"Would you like something to eat?" Mai offered. "Mr. Sung packed a lovely meal for us."

"Not yet. I won’t be able to go back into the water after I eat, and I’m having too much fun."

"Very well, turn around so I can get your back." The lotion was warm from having been in the sun, and it felt delicious on Buffy’s skin. "I’m going to ask your permission to do something," Mai said. "Would it bother you if I changed into my true form? Sunning myself in human form is lovely, but not as good as when I can be myself." Buffy turned her head and looked at the demoness curiously.

"What does your true form look like?" Buffy asked.

"Like a giant snake with the upper torso of a woman," Mai said. Buffy sighed, remembering Macchida. Reptile Boy had not been the prettiest demon on the Hellmouth, but, as long as Mai wasn’t planning on eating her, she supposed she could deal.

"Sure. Go ahead," Buffy said, taking the bottle of lotion from her so she could finish up.

"Thank you," Mai said graciously, and stood up. Buffy watched her, curious. There was a rippling along Mai’s skin, and then a shimmer of light. A moment later, a creature out of myth coiled on the blanket before Buffy, who caught her breath in awe.

"Thhhhhannkkkssss," Mai said, the words a sibilant hiss through her opalescent fangs. "Thhhhattts ssssso mmmuchh moooore coommmmffooortable."

"You’re welcome," Buffy started to say, and was only a bit surprised to hear it come out, "You’re beautiful," instead.

Mai nodded her head graciously. "Youuu areee kiiiinddd."

But, Buffy wasn’t being kind at all. Mai bore no more resemblance to Macchida than a peacock bore to a crow. True, she had the long, sinuous body of a serpent from the waist down, but where Macchida had been a leprous grayish green, Mai’s scales sparkled with the pure, bright colors of rare gems: brilliant emerald and clear sapphire against scales like disks of polished gold. From her narrow waist up, her body was voluptuously human, but even there, tiny gold scales scattered over the warm skin like a brush of gold dust, while a few larger scales gleamed like jewels. Her eyes bore more resemblance to a cat’s than a snake’s: not a dull black, but a warm topaz, the pupil a vertical slit of obsidian within. Even her fangs were beautiful. They were in the same place a vampire’s would be, but were much longer, and thinner, curving down from her full mouth in two delicate arcs that extended all the way to her chin. And they had the same slightly luminous quality as mother-of-pearl, as did the long nails that now showed at the ends of her not-quite-human, preternaturally long, fingers. Only Mai’s hair seemed unchanged by her transformation. It still hung down her back in long waves of inky blackness.

The total effect was both beautiful and terrible. Part of Buffy–the human part–didn’t know whether to fall at this creature’s feet, and worship her in abject adoration, or cower away from her in abject fear. She understood, now, what it must have been like for the first human whose blood had been mingled with such a being’s; how helpless he or she must have felt, and yet, in some weird and twisted way, how thrilled to have been signaled out for its attentions. And even more, she understood the power vampires held over the humans they hunted, the seductive power of the Lamia, which enticed even as it inspired dread. Despite this, the Slayer in her was more alert and alive than ever, nerves jangling with the need to fight, to conquer, to destroy. The Slayer part of Buffy knew this beauty for the enemy it was. If she’d had a stake within reach, Buffy would have been hard pressed not to use it.

"I’m gonna go back into the water, now," she said, hoping another swim would calm her down.

"Assssss you wissssshhhhh," Mai said, uncoiling her body and stretching herself out on the blanket with a contented sigh. Not that the blanket could really hold all of her. Her torso was human-sized, but that tail went on forever. Buffy guessed it must be about fifteen feet. She wondered what it was like for Mai to have to transform into human shape, and force all of herself into a much smaller form. Did it hurt? It didn’t seem to bother her, but how would one know? Buffy shook off the thoughts. Maybe she’d ask Angelus about the matter later. Right now, she wanted to get back in the ocean.

Another forty-five minutes of keeping up with the very playful, very energetic dolphins managed to simultaneously soothe her, and wear her out. When Mai made a second offer of the picnic basket, Buffy didn’t refuse. She dried herself off with a big, fluffy beach towel, and took shelter under the awning of the pavilion. She was better prepared to be around Mai, now, and her Slayer instincts weren’t clamoring for blood. Not only that, but she felt perfectly comfortable with her own nudity, and made no move to put her suit back on. It was definitely weird to be sitting naked with a giant snake intent on feeding her fresh fruit, imported cheeses, iced sorbets and caviar, but not unpleasantly so. She did raise her brow at the strawberry that was put in the champagne flute, especially as chilled champagne was poured over it and offered to her.

"Um, it’s a little early to be drinking?" Buffy suggested.

"Itttt issss neverrr toooo earrrrlllly forr chammmmpaaaaggennne," Mai returned.

Buffy shrugged and took a sip. A second sip convinced her that Mai just might be right, and with a happy sigh, she leaned back against the pavilion and enjoyed her view of the ocean.

Mai watched the lovely girl before her closely, wondering how long before the sun, the exercise and the expensive wine did their job. Soon enough, she saw Buff’s lids grow heavy.

"Whyyy nottt taaake aaaa nappp?" she asked, delicately removing the champagne flute from Buffy’s slackening grip, and packing it away.

"Mmmmm. Good idea," Buffy said groggily. She opened her eyes a bit, and forced herself to move. "In the sun," she explained, stretching out on her belly, out from under the shade.

"You’lllll neeeeddddd morrre lotttttioonnn." Mai said reaching for the bottle.

"M’kay," Buffy managed as her lids fluttered shut a final time.

Mai rose up on her coils, expertly drizzling the lotion in a thin stream down the sleeping girl’s back. In her true form, her senses were more acute, and as she spread the lotion over Buffy, she could better appreciate both the delicate, silken texture of the girl’s skin, and the steely strength of the muscle beneath. No wonder Angelus was fascinated by her. Mai of course regretted the loss of his attentions to herself, but in the scheme of things, that was a small matter.

Angelus’ request that she help Wulf, and Wulf’s demands, were not.

Mai found herself in a quandary. Honor demanded that she fulfil Angelus’ expectations. Wulf was in a position to be of use to Angelus, and therefore there was no dishonor in her acting as Angelus’ agent in his dealings with Wulf. But, Wulf himself was not well thought of in the Lamia community, and dealing with him cost her some of the status that being Angelus’ servant lent her. And yet, if she failed to do her duty to Angelus, she would lose even more status.

Mai neither liked nor trusted Wulf. And, he had made some suggestions to her which, if she interpreted them correctly, were the first subtle moves in a game that would ultimately lead to Wulf’s betrayal of Angelus. In the normal scheme of things, and certainly within the complex hierarchy of Lamian politics, there might be more prestige for Mai in assisting in the betrayal of Angelus than in defeating his betrayers. Wulf might be counting on that. However, with Angelus’ successful capture and mating of a Slayer, Mai believed her status could rise higher in Angelus’ service than even she had dared hope.

Unless the very thing that assured Angelus’ preeminence ultimately destroyed him. Angelus’ obsession with the Slayer, no matter how understandable, was fraught with danger. The girl seemed biddable enough, but Mai knew that was a deliberate pose. Yesterday, she could almost taste the girl’s excitement, could almost see the wheels turning in her mind as she plotted to escape. Even without Angelus’ warning, Mai would have known that Buffy would try to get away, and Mai had taken the precautions that would stop her. But Mai wasn’t going to travel with them, and wouldn’t be in a position to protect her overlord. If the girl continued her charade long enough, it wasn’t impossible that she could lull even so astute a creature as Angelus into a state of complacency, and then the Slayer would be able to destroy him, and with him, all the status and power Mai herself had so carefully and painstakingly accrued while in this world. Well, the power she wielded here might not be much affected, but her position in the only place that really mattered, the Imperial Lamian Court, would be dealt a severe, if not fatal, blow.

But did Buffy still want to escape Angelus? She was different today. Mai was sensitive to that difference, if at a loss to understand it. She had realized there was no need to reinforce her spells, that Buffy wouldn’t make another attempt to get away.

The question was, why?

Mai didn’t think she could let that question go unanswered. The girl and her intentions were too important to Mai’s own long-range plans. For that matter, even Wulf had designs on the Slayer, whether or not he knew what she was. Most vampires, even elderly ones, couldn’t detect the difference between a Slayer and an ordinary human immediately. Which was why Slayers were such perfect bait. They gave the appearance of lovely, fragile, delectable humans, a meal of the most prized sort, and it usually wasn’t until combat was engaged that a hapless vampire understood he’d taken on more than he’d bargained for. No, Wulf’s interest in the girl had nothing to do with the fact that she was the Slayer, as far as Mai could tell, but he was most definitely interested. He had been circumspect yesterday when he’d greeted Buffy in the hotel lobby, and he had mentioned her only in passing when he’d met with Mai later, but the lamia could feel his hunger for the girl, could read it in his eyes, hear it in his voice.

Buffy Summers was a critical piece in the game Mai was playing, the game Mai had been born to play. As such, Mai needed to understand what motivated the girl, and to judge what her reactions would be if any of several scenarios Mai could envision came to pass in the near future.

Fortunately, there was a way Mai could find out exactly what she needed to know.

She continued to spread lotion on the supple human flesh beneath her hands, kneading it into the muscles of the girl’s back and buttocks, the tops of her thighs, her shapely calves and dainty, high-arched feet. Buffy sighed contentedly in her sleep. Mai swayed above her, beginning to hiss rhythmically, a sound that generally induced lethargy in her prey, enabling her to do what she wished with them. The Slayer might have been immune to such blandishments if she were at full strength. But, with the lingering effects of the drugs given her aboard ship, lulled to sleep under the warm Hawaiian sun, her inhibitions lowered by the champagne, she really couldn’t resist.

Mai crooned to her unsuspecting victim, and began to weave the required magic around her.

It was a great pity, Mai reflected as she uncoiled to her full, formidable length, that she wasn’t free to do as she pleased with the girl who was now deep in an ensorcelled slumber. Sun glinted off the Slayer’s oiled skin, her hair was a delicate tousle of blonde waves across the quilt, her full lips were slightly parted, and she presented the most delectable picture of available, wanton sensuality that Mai had ever seen. The child was surpassingly lovely, and it was not surprising that she had managed to both enthrall Angelus and attract Wulf’s attentions. For that matter, Mai began to suspect that even Spike’s rumored inability to kill this particular Slayer had little, if anything, to do with her fighting skills and a few lucky breaks. Mai had heard about the assassins he’d hired a year ago–how not?–and she’d wondered why he’d called them off. Perhaps he was no more immune to Buffy than were Wulf, Angelus and Mai herself.

Spike’s feelings about the girl were not the issue at hand, however, although she might do well to learn more about them for the future. Even Angelus feelings weren’t the issue. Or, not entirely. After all, if he were treating the girl as he had every other paramour he’d ever taken, Mai would doubtless already have enjoyed her own taste of the Slayer’s sweetness. And she wouldn’t be worried about how the girl might affect the game between Wulf and Angelus.

If she were free to do as she wished, she would be coiling between Buffy’s slightly parted thighs, rubbing her cool–and highly sensitive–scales against the girl’s most intimate secrets. The tip of her tail would be delicately teasing Buffy’s hidden pearl while Mai took the time to find out if the taste of her lips were as honeyed as their pouting fullness promised. Under other circumstances, Buffy might even find herself hidden away in the Lamia dimension, where the Slayer’s existence as Mai’s concubine would skyrocket Mai’s status to heights that even her association with Angelus hadn’t brought her.

Or, utterly destroy herself and her House, beyond hope of redemption, if Buffy decided to fight what would be a most pampered and luxurious captivity. Though only if she won the battle. Mai surmised that Buffy might well win.

Really, it was much too risky to involve herself with the girl, directly. It was abundantly clear to Mai that Angelus had no intention of sharing, and there was no way Mai could trespass without inviting an all-or-nothing battle with him that she had no taste for.

Still, it was even more risky not to find out exactly what Buffy meant to Angelus, and–most important of all–what he meant to her. Mai’s next moves with regard to both Wulf and Angelus depended upon the Slayer, and there was only one way to find out what she needed, one way to get the answers she sought. With a fleeting regret for what would not be, Mai coiled around Buffy in a protective, rather than an amorous manner, and rested her head on the girl’s shoulder.

It was time to see what magic could reveal.

Buffy was lying in a hammock strung between two palm trees, swinging gently in the sun.

"More champagne?" Mai asked. She was in human form once more, but her dress shimmered with the same green and blue and gold that her scales had done, and the lids of her eyes were powdered with gold dust.

"Yes, please," Buffy said, taking the offered flute. She drank the wine quickly, eager to get to the ripe berry at the bottom of the glass. Oddly, it eluded her. There always seemed to be more champagne to drink.

"Try one of these," Mai offered, holding a plump strawberry to Buffy’s lips. Buffy nibbled delicately at the succulent fruit. Sweet juice flowed across her tongue, and she closed her eyes, savoring the taste.

"He wants to make you happy," Mai said, reaching for another berry.

"No," Buffy sighed as she opened her eyes. "He just wants me. Angel wanted my happiness."

"Oh? How so?"

The lamia’s need for an answer sparked a torrent of memories to flood through Buffy’s mind, as she thought of just how much Angel had wanted her happiness, and why; of how he had come to mean so much to her.

". . .but I don’t bite. . . ."

". . .how much I want to kiss you."

". . .all I see is you . . ."

". . . try not to but I just can’t . . ."

" . . .some part of you that remembers . . ."

". . .not look good for our heroine. . ."

"Close your eyes. . ."

"Close your eyes . . ."

"Close your eyes. . ."

" . . .even death can’t . . .

"In 243 years . . ."

"Drink. Me."

". . .not going to say good-bye . . ."

Buffy let the tears come.

"So sad," Mai crooned, delicately drying Buffy’s tears with a silken scarf. "But you’re together, now."

"Together . . ." Buffy murmured, her thoughts turning to the past few days.

". . . good fight, little girl. . ."

". . .feast on you forever."

"meant for me, made for me, born for me…mine"

". . .makes you think I’ve stopped fighting you. . ."

". . .spend all morning ravishing. . . "

" . . .only come to you when he isn’t near. . ."

". . .what I dreamed, and then we’d. . ."

"It’s clear how much he wants you, the lengths he’s gone to, in order to have you with him. And you?" Mai asked, head tilted to the side as if considering a particularly interesting puzzle. "What do you want?" Buffy giggled, remembering.

" ‘My Lord’s pleasure is my own,’ " she quoted Mai’s own words.

"Oh?" Mai asked, unperturbed, gently encouraging her to go on.

Buffy thought of all the ways in which Angelus’ pleasure was now too much her own. She had thought she could run from him, but she couldn’t. She no longer even wanted to. Whenever she tried to fight him, she found it was truly herself she had to battle."

"What is it that you want?" Mai’s voice coaxed softly.

Buffy looked inside herself and knew: What she really wanted was to go into his arms and never come out, never have to be without him, without his desire, without his protection, without his passion. She wanted her Angel back, but if she couldn’t have him, then she wanted, needed, desperately craved, being with Angelus.

Still, she couldn’t–wouldn’t–stand by if he slaughtered innocents. She had to find a way to keep him from doing that. Right now, she was clinging to the memory of Angel assuring her that such would be possible. Leaving Angelus no longer was a possibility for her, if it ever had been.

"You love him that much?" Mai queried. "You’d deny your own nature to be with him?"

"No. Being with him fulfills my nature. I was born for him, meant for him, made for him, his . . ."

Mai nodded thoughtfully. "So it would seem," she said, feeding Buffy a sip of champagne from her flute.

Buffy sighed and took a sip, before falling more deeply asleep.

Mai lifted herself up, her lower coils still lapped around Buffy, rocking her gently. Walking in the girl’s dreams had been quite the revelation. Angelus, the Scourge of Europe denying his own pleasure, because his partner was in pain? Such consideration was almost incomprehensible. Mai congratulated herself on her earlier decision not to trespass on Angelus’ territory. And, as she had suspected, she would be far better off continuing her alliance with Angelus than she would be in switching her allegiance to Wulf. Mai smiled nastily. Wulf would, of course, continue to press his luck in that regard. Doubtless, Angelus would destroy him. Possibly, Buffy would help. Mai was now assured that the girl would never, ever, have anything to do with the other vampire and the demoness had just been given a far better understanding of exactly why it was that Angelus was able to hold this Slayer. It had more to do with who Angelus had been for the past one hundred and fifty years–and hadn’t that been quite the revelation!–and with the relationship "Angel" shared with Buffy, than with the way he had overpowered her. Wulf, or any other vampire, could keep her in chains for a century, ravish her into delirious orgasms night after intoxicating night, and the girl would never break, never willingly submit. It did not diminish what Angelus had done in capturing her. Rather, it made it all the more likely that he would successfully keep her at his side for as long as he desired. Mai had the suspicion that the time would never come that Angelus did not want Buffy.

Again, it came back to that surprising soul. Angel’s curse had been a well-kept secret. Darla hadn’t been forthcoming with any explanation as to why Angelus was no longer in her train, while no one but Spike could ever get a sensible answer out of Dru. Spike, himself, had been as closemouthed as Darla, perhaps at his great-grandam’s insistence. It was not a secret Darla could have wanted known.

Mai was relieved that she herself had not known about it until it was no longer an issue. True, Buffy had dreamt of being reunited with the soul, but Mai dismissed that as merely the girl’s subconscious trying to reconcile her growing love for the demon with her tiresome human morality. She was clearly too deeply in love with Angel/Angelus ever to free herself, and sooner or later, she would accept his delightfully murderous nature as part of what made him the magnificent beast that he was. If Mai had learned about the soul, she would have instantly broken her contacts with Angel . . .and would have missed the opportunity she presently enjoyed.

She briefly considered her options, though she was fairly certain only one was truly viable. She could, of course, let Wulf make his attempt to destroy Angelus and steal Buffy in the hope that he would kill Angelus before Buffy destroyed Wulf, himself. Then Mai, armed with the Crucimentum drugs Angelus had used, could sweep in and carry the girl off. But, the only way she could possibly hope to keep Buffy enslaved would be to keep her permanently weak with drugs. Or mingle her own blood with Buffy’s, and turn her into a vampire, in the manner which had seen the creation of the very first of the breed. The former would be boring and the later wouldn’t particularly enhance Mai’s status. She was really much better off continuing her alliance as it was. Mai shrugged off her disappointment. Lamia and vampires were virtually eternal, measuring their spans in centuries, if not millennia. The lovers might be faithful to each other for a dozen decades or so, but sooner or later, the idea of including others in their intimate games would begin to take on a certain appeal. If Angelus ever decided to invite someone else into the bed he shared with Buffy, Mai intended to be at the top of his guest list.

Hmmm. Perhaps there was something she could do now that might pay off in that regard, later. Mai reached for the cooler and considered its contents. She found the neatly wrapped bowl sitting on ice, and smiled. Yes, these would do nicely, she thought as she reached for the small knife Mr. Sung had thoughtfully provided for the paté.

Buffy’s eyes slowly opened as the silk scarf was withdrawn from her body. Blinking, she sat up, realizing that the scarf had in fact been the cool touch of Mai’s coils. The demoness was stretching out full length, closing her eyes as she luxuriated in the hot sun. Buffy shivered, not unpleasantly. She knew that Mai had done nothing that she need worry about. Buffy did not examine too closely the reasons why she felt such certainty in that regard.

Buffy also realized that, somehow, her Slayer senses were no longer being triggered by Mai’s presence. That, too, ought to worry her, but unaccountably, it didn’t. So, Buffy watched placidly as Mai shifted back to human form, and asked the question she had, oddly enough, been too shy to ask earlier.

"Does that hurt? Scrunching your tail down into human-sized legs? Turning your scales into skin?"

"Does it hurt when a bird flaps its wings?" Mai smiled. "My body was designed to shift between the two forms. There is no discomfort."

"But still," Buffy pressed, "the demon is your true form."

"So it is, with me," Mai said aloud. As it is with Angelus, both women thought.

"Do I have time for another swim?" Buffy asked, nodding her head toward the dolphins.

"Of course. But, perhaps, not so long as last time."

Buffy was a little saddened to think that this would be her last opportunity to play with the pod. The seemed to sense her slight melancholy and butted up against her affectionately, before engaging her in a game of tag. Eventually, though, she knew she had to return to shore. She bade her friends a last farewell, and turned back to the shore.

"You really should try these," Mai said as she lifted a small crystal bowl out of the cooler. "Mr. Sung’s recipe is quite extraordinary."

"What is it?"

"Dessert," Mai said lightly, removing the wrapping and showing Buffy the bowl’s contents. A variety of luscious berries were steeping in an aromatic liquid. The scent rising from the bowl was mouthwateringly good.

"Yum," said Buffy, taking the spoon Mai handed to her and digging in. Ripe, rich liquid hit her tongue with the first taste. Buffy closed her eyes and swallowed, finding that a delicious heat settled immediately in her belly, and slowly worked its way out along her veins.

"Wow! That’s good," Buffy said, scooping up another spoonful. Smiling, Mai unwrapped her own bowl. "What’s on the berries?" Buffy asked between mouthfuls.

"A little wine, a little magic," Mai said lightly. "I really don’t know everything he puts into it." She did not mention that she herself had added one or two things to Buffy’s portion. Angelus would most likely discern what she’d done. And be devoutly grateful to her for it. They finished their deserts in companionable silence, and Mai began to pack things away. "We really ought to be heading back, now." In fact, they had at least an hour before sunset, but Mai knew that, in a very short time, Buffy would not thank her for keeping her from Angelus a moment longer than she had to.

"All right," Buffy said, reluctantly putting on her bathing suit, once more. Mai hid her smile as she herself quickly dressed. In a few moments, they were heading back to the cottage.