One Man's Hell...

"God," he said softly. He crossed to Buffy immediately, and put his arms around her waist, supporting her weight with his strength. "I'm sorry," he whispered. He stroked her hair and her cheeks, anger at himself for doing this to her again. Hurting her. Only this time it hadn't been Angelus, it had been him. All him. He remembered the key for her handcuffs, on the nightstand she'd placed it on when she came in. He quickly snatched it up and released her cuffs and pulled her into his arms, supporting her weight. "I'm so sorry," he said quietly, his voice low. The worst thing of it all, though, was it felt as if a weight had been pulled from his shoulders. He felt worse for feeling better. "I didn't want to...I don't know why I did that. I'm sorry, Buffy. Are you all right?"

Hurt and comfort, that was what was offered by the strong arms enveloping her. But the pain of his touch now was nothing compared to what he'd done to her. She buried her face in his throat, trying to stem the tears and to reassure herself it was alright. "Angel. My Angel?" she asked, just as he'd asked her so often.

"Your Angel," he replied reassuringly. "Only yours." He lifted her in his strong arms and carried her to bed. He laid her down and crouched on the floor beside her, stroking her cheek, brushing her blond hair away from her sweaty forehead. "I'm sorry," he repeated, his eyes full of sorrow instead of anger. He wanted to kiss her, to reassure her, to hold her in his arms, but he wasn't sure how she could ever find joy or comfort there ever again. She'd found nothing but pain in his arms, in whatever form he took; Angelus or himself.

She was quiet for a while, her mind just wasn't working so fast. But it felt good to just lay there and feel him stroking her hair, gently, talking to her gently... so different from before. Her throat convulsed as she swallowed, then wiped her eyes. "I know. I know you are..." she touched his cheek and gave him a small. "What time is it?" Hours had to have passed...

"I don't know," Angel replied honestly. The time had slipped past him far too quickly. He'd enjoyed torturing the woman he loved too much. The very thought made him sick, and he looked around at the clock. "It's...almost eleven," he said. "At night. But I remember sunlight." Angel closed his eyes. "Jesus. I've been doing that to you for more than a day." He looked away from Buffy, unable to meet her eyes. When the next sun came up, he was already planning to be there to see it.

"It's Monday?" Had she lost a whole day, was that true? One look at his profile and she had her answer. "Don't." She sat up and put her arms around him. "There's enough guilt... I did things to you too." She shook her head, trying to forget the desperate straits she'd worked him up to trying to get him to want to go home. "I just... I hope it helped. I hope you won your battle against her... that you never see her again when you look into my face." He had no idea how that had pained her. This ... all of it would be worth it, if he saw only his Buffy from now on.

Her arms around him brought an immediate swell of relief through his body. He wrapped his arms around her and sat on the bed. He kissed her shoulder, her neck, stroked her hair and back, eager to give her some of the comfort she brought him. He kissed her again, wherever he could put his lips while he held her tightly. "I...I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't..." He reluctantly pulled his arms away from her, and caressed her cheek with his hand. "I love you, Buffy," he said firmly, his eyes strong and clear on hers for the first time in a long time. "I love you," he repeated. And then, slowly, he smiled, remembering how she comforted him after his torture. "Lay down," he told her softly.

She made a sound of protest when he stepped away before she could tell him she loved him too. Taking his hand, she lay back, tugging on him lightly. "Sleep with me. I don't wanna be alone Hold me?"

Angel nodded, and gently took her shoulders in his hands. He eased her back down to bed, and lay down beside her. He pulled her closer to him in his arms, giving her as much gentle comfort as he could. "You're not alone," he reassured her, his voice a whisper in her ears. "Never alone." He let his hands caress her reddened skin tenderly while he held her close to him. "I'm here."

The last of her tension melted away under his ministrations, and when she closed her eyes, she no longer saw unmercifully cold eyes drilling into her. The last thing she recalled was sleepily reminding him, "don't leave."

* * *

Morning came too soon. Her alarm awakened her at 5:30 and she sluggishly got up for a shower. Her body was still slightly stiff but by the time she got out of the hot shower, she almost felt herself. And when she got into her waitressing uniform and entered the living room, she just knew things would be okay.

Gone were the chains, and all other evidence of the events of the past 36 hours. Instead, Angel stood in the kitchen and was making breakfast. The coffee and bacon smelled soooo good. By the time she reached the small counter, he had her plate ready and was smiling at her. His smile reached his eyes... there were no shadow of the past anymore. She crooked a finger. "This looks great, but aren't you forgetting something?"

Angel looked at Buffy, frowning thoughtfully. "Well, now, I know I don't technically eat a lot, but I'm sure I've got everything. Unless you like sausage instead of bacon?" He saw her arch an eyebrow at him, and he nodded. "Ah," he said, and leaned forward to kiss her. His hand touched her arm, gently running his fingertips along her skin. When he pulled back, he looked in her eyes. "What do you say we forget work and you stay here?"

"Mmm... don't tempt. 'Sides... I need to eat, and technically, that takes money." Picking up a crisp bacon, she brought it close to his mouth. "Have a bite?" Was it weird that everything felt so... so normal?

Angel held up a hand and patted his stomach. "On a diet," he told her. "Very strict." He smiled at her. "What do you need that job for? Summer's almost over, you'll be going back to Sunnydale. I can't imagine you'll need good waitress references for slaying work. Although if you wore the outfit when you went on patrol, you'd strike fear into the hearts of demons everywhere."

She looked down at her blue-gray uni... okay, so it was a bit frumpy maybe... and the the faux apron, with the extra big bow right above her rear wasn't all that attractive... still... Her eyes snapped back to his. "I'll have you know I've gotten whistled at while in uniform... once, or twice... no wait, that was after I..." Running out of words, she glared at him, then took a bite of the bacon. That put an instant smile on her mouth. It had been ages since she'd eaten breakfast, and even longer since the last time anyone else made her some.


He cocked his head and leaned back against the counter to cross his arms. "Oh, no," he said disarmingly. "I would absolutely whistle at you in that uniform. Maybe you can hide a stake in that bow. They'd never see it coming." He grinned, and nodded at the nearby table. He pulled her chair out for her. "Fact is, I don't think Carl of Carl's Diner is going to be as appreciative of your time as I am." He sat down beside. "Call in sick," he said.

Another little groan escaped her. "I wish. And you should stop tempting me. See, I go work, and you get your beauty sleep, and then we go out to maybe a movie." Looking at her watch, she saw she had a half hour max before another dreary 9 hour day started. "Maybe I can run back at lunch for a bit." Running was what she'd literally have to do... fifteen minute visit and then it was work again. Watching him under her lashes, she started to eat.

"Or you can stay right here, call in sick, and I can thank you for everything you did. Make some things up to you." Angel nodded decisively and stood up. He moved around Buffy, and gently massaged her shoulder with one hand as he passed. He took the phone off the wall and came back. He set the phone on the table and reclaimed his seat, looking at her expectantly. "Carl doesn't have my mysterious good looks, I'm sure."

Thinking of her scrawny loud-mouthed bossy boss, she had to agree, but still didn't take the phone. "I've done that a couple times too many already, I'll get fired. Something about getting fired... never get used to that. Come on, It'll be night soon." Damn, how was she supposed to say no when he was looking at her like that. "Angel..." she whined.

He sighed, and shook his head. "I hoped you wouldn't bring me to this," he said. He snatched up the phone and dialed the number he'd memorized. He listened as the phone rang and picked up. "Hello, my name is Mr. Summers, I'm calling on behalf of my daughter, Elizabeth." Angel paused, and he chuckled. "Yes, Buffy. That's what we call her, our little Buffy. Now, then, I'm afraid Buffy won't be coming in. No, I'm sorry, we've had a bit of a family emergency, and we need her to come with us up to Sausalito...Her Aunt Cordelia, I'm afraid," Angel said, sounding surprisingly morose. Although, with him that wasn't such a change from his normal state of affairs.

Buffy's mouth dropped open. She tried to fight him for the phone, but he easily pulled it above her reach. I can't believe you did that, she mouthed, but he just moved slightly away and continued with one outrageous lie after another. By the time he put the phone down, she was squirming and ... and... "I don't know whether to stake you or kiss you," she said, a bit flustered, but unable to stop herself from cracking up. "What happened to broody and mysterious, huh?"

"Today, he's elsewhere so I can deal with Carl of Carl's Diner." He met Buffy's eyes. "Well, since you have no where to be this morning..." Angel smiled slightly. "I think it's time I did something else for you."

"Oh yeah?" her eyes narrowed as she looked at him with more than just a little suspicion. Something had come over him, and she just wasn't sure what it was. He was in a weird, playful mood. "You ah... gonna do the dishes?" The look in his eyes told her to guess again. "Watch a chick flick with me? No... Hmm? Be my slave for seven days and nights?" Okay that joke should have weirded her out after all they'd been through, but no... it felt like any other joke. "What then?"

"Maybe later," he said to all three of her ideas. He held her gaze, his eyes piercing into hers. "Remember, down there? After every time...well, after you'd do something to me. I did things...but I never made it better after. I need to do that." His face was serious, and he kept his eyes locked on hers. He reached out and took her hand in his. "Come to bed with me," he told her, his voice firm.

"You don't have to. I mean I'm ..." Something about his implacable tone and expression had her nodding. She let him lead her to the bed and swallowed her protests. Not that she didn't appreciate him... or him in her bed, but she wanted him to know everything was square between them.

He paused at the bed, and leaned down to brush her lips with his. "And I know I don't have to," he told her on a whisper. "But I want to." His fingertips stroked her cheek, and then trailed his hands down to the oversize buttons of her uniform. He began loosening them one by one as he kissed her again, this time more deeply than before.

She was a bit amused, and maybe a bit tense. Yesterday was behind her, it really was, but ... the first time would probably be a little hard. When she looked at his face, she saw he was nothing like the man who'd taunted, teased and tortured. Angel wasn't smiling, his face was serious... but his eyes, there was an intensity that burned only for her. And his kisses, they were real. Swaying toward him, she put her arms around his shoulders and opened her mouth slightly wider, accepting him. As their tongues slid together, heat washed through her system. Suddenly she needed to be closer... to feel his skin against hers. Moving back slightly, she started undoing the buttons of his shirt, biting her lip when her hand shook slighty. "Have to be careful," she whispered, not knowing whether she was reminding him or herself.

"I know," he said quietly. "Buffy." When she looked up, he met her eyes. "All for you," he told her. He finished with the last button on the dress, and carefully slid it open, taking it off her shoulders. The dress slipped down off of her and to the floor. He kissed her again, and this time his hands began to caress her bare skin, and slid over the silky material of her bra. He felt her nipples through the material, and ran his thumbs lightly across the raised buds over the material. He broke their kiss and nipped lightly at her neck. "Not that I won't enjoy myself a bit, too," he told her with a smile.

She gasped as her body reacted to his touch. "Tease," she whispered, and started to pull his shirt off his shoulders, running her hands freely over the broad expanse of his chest.

"I haven't even begun," he whispered. His hands slipped around behind her and freed the clasp of her bra. He pulled his arms back in time to let his shirt slide off, and then his hands began to ease her bra away from her. As his hands pulled the straps from her shoulders, he leaned down and began kissing her chest, working his way down in time with the bra.

When his mouth trailed down her chest, she rolled her head to the side and sighed. There was something incredibly sexy about the way he dwarfed her, about his large, strong hands moving so gently over her. When his mouth closed over her nipple, she arched slightly. He was a tease... teasing her over her bra, making her want to have his mouth over her skin, making her ache and need. She tried to stay still, tried not to demand... tried to enjoy the moment, even as her mind raced ahead. Finally, her resolve broke. "Angel, please.."

"Quiet," he ordered softly. He raised his mouth to hers and kissed her again. He finally freed her bra the rest of the way down, and fell to the floor with the uniform at her feet. "You're so beautiful," he whispered to her. "My Buffy." He lowered his head down, and finally began to lick around the soft skin of her breasts, kissing his way first to her left nipple, which he took in his mouth. He scraped his teeth against the stiff flesh while his hand rolled her other nipple gently between thumb and forefinger. Even while he did that, his other hand slid down to touch her over her panties, running his fingers against her sex through the material.

She didn't miss his tone, or that he meant it when he said to be quiet, but she didn't care. Maybe it even heightened the intensity of the sensations rocking her body. Between the moist heat of his mouth moving over her, driving her slowly insane, and his hands... everywhere... there , she couldn't think straight. All she knew was this felt good... incredibly good, and that she needed more. "Don't stop," she said, her voice husky as she moved her hand over his, afraid he'd pull away.

He raised his head and met her eyes once again. "Quiet," he said more sternly this time. His hand under hers turned and he took her wrist. He pulled it around behind her back and held it there. He replaced his hand with his thigh, which he slipped between her legs and began to rub her there. "You just sit back and relax," he told her. "I'll worry about the rest today, Buffy." He gave her a smile, but held her eyes all the same.

She was a bit confused, but the look in his eyes made her heart lurch. So did the fact her hand was pinned against her body, making her feel slightly helpless... out of control. That's what he wanted... he wanted her to give up control and leave everything to him. "I..." White hot heat inched through her body as he moved back and forth. She would agree to anything he wanted... just so long as he didn't stop. Biting her lips, she forced herself to stand still, even when she wanted ... needed to touch him, to make him give her more pressure. He had to know what he was doing to her... had to hear her heart pounding against her chest... had to see how her eyes were getting glazed over as waves of desire struck her harder and harder.

As if in silent answer, Angel nodded. He released her hand finally, and kissed his way back down her body. He paused once again at her breasts, and lowered down again. His thumbs hooked the waistband of her panties, and he drew them down. He helped her step out of them, and he was kneeling before her. He looked up at Buffy and smiled. He put his hands on her rear and caressed her while he leaned forward and began to kiss her softly. He pressed his lips lightly against her clitoris once, and then again. He shifted closer, his hands caressing her buttocks as he lowered himself farther down, and then his tongue slipped out, and trailed gently, teasingly across her moist folds. Eyes locked with his, she silently plead with him for more.

Buffy's legs almost buckled from under her. She would have closed her eyes, but instinctively, she knew he wanted them open. With every drag of his tongue over her skin, with every movement of his mouth and hands, need spiraled through her, wound tighter and tighter low in her stomach. Her breaths came out labored and in gasps. "Good... so good, Ang--" A sharp glance silenced her. She'd never done this... tried not to move, tried not to make a sound when her body pulsed and throbbed and ached with the need for release.

He felt her knees tremble, and after a moment of attending to her, he pulled away. "Lay down," he said quietly to her. He stood and took her hand, helping her to do just that. Once she was on the bed, he crouched down beside her once again. "My Buffy," he said again. He slipped between her legs, and pressed his mouth over her sex. He slipped his tongue between her moist lips and began to lick, trailing his tongue up her length until he got to her clitoris. He flicked that with his tongue, and then trailed back down, ever teasing. While he did, he reached one hand up to cup her breast and again begin teasing her nipple with his fingers, holding her gaze and knowing she'd do the same.

In that one glance, heat sizzled between them. Her hips involuntarily started to move up and down, and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it. All she knew was that he was here... Angel... and he made her want things, feel things, like no one else could. She started to squirm... to rise up to meet the touch of his tongue... his palm. Her entire body ached ... quivered... needed... burned hotter and hotter. Words started breaking from the back of her throat. She didn't know whether they made sense... but every one of them was for him. Hot and wet and needy, she thought of that one time when he'd been inside her... God, just that thought alone was enough to drive her close to the edge. "Angel..."

"I know," he whispered back. He knew she wanted him, wanted to feel him inside of her again. It's what he wanted more than anything at that moment as well. But he also knew that it would cost them both if they did. What it would cost all of humanity. And so he just smiled, and pulled her closer to him. He pressed his mouth over her clitoris and suckled it between his teeth. His tongue ran over it again and again while his finger slid inside of her, stroking while he sucked and teased her clit.

Electricity arced through her. She threw her head back as his finger stroked her from the inside. It was easy to imagine that her muscles were gripping and clenching around his cock , that he was pulsing inside her... that he was hard, so hard... that he needed her as much as she needed him. She started to thrash, held in place by him, and yet free to move slightly. "More... more," she begged, every cell in her body demanding that he take her. "More."

He slipped his finger out, and then let his middle finger join the index and slid both inside. He continued holding her even while she moved against him. He began to roll his wrist as he fingered her, stroking his fingers in a "come-hither" motion inside, touching her everywhere he could. He began to hum softly against her clit even while he tongued it more roughly, giving her everything she was asking for and more.

With every masterful stroke and touch, the pressure inside her built to uncontrollable proportions. She drew her knees up around him, arching her hips up, crying out as she chased her release. The bed started to creak as her movements grew more frantic. She gripped his shoulders, her fingers digging into him as a firestorm swept through her. She started to shake... to shudder around his fingers... and then her entire world narrowed and shattered.

As the ache and tension eased, her motions slowed. Tears streamed from her eyes. Swallowing, she sat up and kissed him, tasting herself on his lips... telling him how good she felt, how much she loved him. And she knew... knew without touching him, that he was as hard as he'd ever been down in hell, but this time, it was his choice. "I... 'thank you' sounds so lame, after that."

"Not at all," he answered. He took her by the shoulders and pulled her down with him as he lay on the bed. He stroked her hair. He could feel his cock straining against the material of his trousers, but he wasn't here for himself. He was here to give back a little of what she'd given him. "That was better than burgers and fries at Carl's, right?"

"Hmmm? We serve doubles," she teased, tangling her legs with his.

With a smile, Angel chuckled. "I didn't know Carl would be such tough competition," he muttered as he pulled her close to kiss her deeply again, his hand drifting down her body once more.

"Oh... Carl also serves triples and ... Angel!" Her breath left her body, and she half tackled him. "You're soooo competative."

"Only for the right event," he replied as she pressed her lips to his once again.

* * *

[Sunnydale, Three Months Later]

Buffy was sitting on the stone windowsill of the mansion watching Angel practice his tai chi, when she noticed his concentration break. "What?" she asked, turning to follow his gaze to the doorway.

"Well, look at you, all fit and rugged and still mysterious. Did that come out a little gay?" Whistler looked at Buffy and took off his hat in a salute, then turned back to Angel. "Never would've guessed you spent your time where you did."

Angel stopped his forms and looked at Whistler with wary eyes. "Whistler," Angel greeted the man. "What are you doing here?"

Whistler smiled as he leaned against the wall next to Buffy. "I lent the young lady a thing. It's strictly a rental, and you don't even have to rewind." He looked over at the Slayer and held out his hand. "But I am gonna need it back, now."

Storms of rebellion gathered in Buffy's eyes. She hopped off the window sill and crossed her arms. "Sorry. Lost it."

"Well, if that's the case, hope whatever kids you have live fast, because this dimension and about thirteen others are gonna be overrun giant slugs in about fifty years," Whistler said. Then he wiggled his hand. "Come on, kid. We made a deal, don't try to play me like a fool. I've been around a lot longer than you."

Angel was starting over, watching the scene. "Been around longer than me?"

"Yep," Whistler replied, and looked at Buffy again. "It's not yours," he told her. "Like I said: Rental."

"My dog ate it." She didn't budge. Okay, maybe she internally budged hearing the consequences of not giving it to him, but she needed it. They needed it. "How 'bout we rent it for a while longer." Thinking he was going to say no, she stepped toward him. "That part's not negotiable." Her gaze shifted to Angel for confirmation that he was with her on this.

Before Whistler could protest, Angel caught Buffy's look and spoke quickly. "Fifty years, right? We've still got quite a while before then. Who's it going to be safer with than the Slayer herself?"

Whistler looked at Angel, cocking an eyebrow. "And why the hell do you want a pendant that can only take you to the one place you spent all that time tryin' to get out of?"

At that, Angel glanced at Buffy.

She bit her lip, then forced herself to look at Whistler. "Old times sake," she shrugged. Damn, did that come out sounding like a question?

Even Angel had trouble keeping a straight face. Whistler looked between the two of them, his eyes narrowed. Suddenly, he made a face. "Aw, c'mon! I've turned into an interdimensional pimp. This..." He pointed at the two of them. "Only because I'm a nice guy." He looked at Angel. "Before the time's up, I'll be coming to collect. Just...wash the goddamn thing before you give it back, all right?"

Angel grinned and nodded. "Whatever you want."

Buffy had the grace to blush but didn't say a damn thing until Whistler left. "Well that went better than I thought. You wanna..." Cocking her head to the side, she lifted the pendant that was suspended from a chain around her neck.

The vampire arched an eyebrow at the Slayer. "Get the shoes. I think it's my turn to be in charge tonight," he said with a grin.

"Is it? You sure?" Smirking, she headed for the bedroom. "You mean the sneakers, right?" This time, laughing out loud, she disappeared into the room.

He laughed at that and followed her inside. "Go on, keep racking 'em up. I'm remembering it."

She gulped, and suddenly went quite meek. "We gotta be back by eight, or Giles will..." By the time she turned back toward him, she had changed into a tight black dress and heels that had her almost on her tip toes. "Lipstick? You know it just wipes off..."

With a grin, Angel nodded. "Yeah, but it works so well on you until then," he told her. He set his watch for eight. With the pendant in place, time for them would go normally. And they'd already discovered firsthand that they often forgot exactly how long they were at it without some way of knowing for sure.

She applied bright red to her lips, and stepped over to him. One arm circling his waist, she held her palm and the pendant up against his palm. They pressed their hands together until the pendant cut them. An instant later, they were in the fire ringed dungeon in hell. It was empty now. Their haven. The one place they could enjoy each other without consequences.

"Take off your shirt," she said, always ready to test who was 'in charge.'

The vampire smiled at the Slayer, cocking an eyebrow. "Oh, I will. Once you're out of that dress and in those chains, beautiful." He grinned widely at her then. "I love you."

"You'd better... and love you too." Bending over, she played with her shoes for a minute, making as if to take them off, then flashed him a grin and did as he asked. It was his turn, just like he said. She put her hand out, waiting to be cuffed, and unafraid. It was a game they played, and it always always turned out well. They'd turned this part of hell into their private little heaven, and no one, not whistler, and not any demon could take that away from them.

The End

(A/N: If you enjoyed this, please take the time to let us know. Thanks! )