June 27, 2003

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. For the past week I’ve been queasy Buffy. It’s really grating on my nerves already. I’ve hardly ever been sick my entire life and whatever this thing is, it’s had me on my knees tossing the lunch monkey more in the past 5 days than I have in the last 5 years.

I’m still not sure what to write about in this thing. Should I start off with Dear Diary or something equally as tacky? I wonder if that would help me to be able open up more.

Let’s see. Oh! I got a letter from Hank last week. Well, it’s not really been quite a week yet and it was more than a letter. It was a bunch of letters put together inside one big envelope. At first I didn’t want to read them. I was so not big with the ‘forgive me Buffy please because I’m your Daddy’ that I was sure was going to be written. Instead I find out the letters had been written over several years, starting back in 1996 when Mom and Dad separated for the last time before the divorce.

I ended up reading every single letter in one sitting. I couldn’t help myself and the whole time I sat there and cried like a baby. A few times I laughed when he wrote about something he remembered about me growing up, like the time I went to school in my pajamas. I was so tired that day because I was up to all hours the night before making vampires dusty, and I was running late and didn’t want them to call home again because I was late again and I rushed off to school completely forgetting I was still wearing my pajamas. They had to call home anyway to bring me a change of clothes. Hank was the one the Dean got ahold of and instead of being angry, he brought my clothes and took me out of school for the rest of the day and we went and had lunch together and went shopping which would have made Mom kinda mad so we made it our little secret.

It’s sad, because I completely forgot about that day until he reminded me of it in one of his letters.

Anyway, I’ll write more about that another time when I’ve sorted out how I feel about it. Still kind of jumbled up inside and not sure what I feel and not trusting of what I feel either.

Kennedy and some of the other newly turned Slayers are back from their training session in the desert. When they were asked about their time there, none of them mentioned seeing the First Slayer. They talked about the training and testing their survival skills, but not a one of them talked about her. Speaking of Kennedy, she and Willow seem to be at odds a little bit. Will doesn’t seem to have a moment for herself or anyone else because Kennedy is trailing her around like some sort of lost puppy, which isn’t a very good analogy since puppies are cute and cuddly and Kennedy has turned into more of a leech than a puppy. I don’t see them staying together much longer, really, which is fine by me. Kennedy has always been more of a spoiled brat that pouts when she doesn’t get her way and Willow really needs someone more stable and mature and who will give as much as they take rather than take and take and ask for more much the way Kennedy seems to do. I really hope she doesn’t try to come along Monday morning when Willow goes to the doctor with me.

Xander is still sad. He tries to be his usual self with his Xanderisms and his geeky but adorable way, but when he thinks no-one is watching, you can see the sadness in his face. He still makes jokes about the having only one eye thing, but I know he’d give that one remaining eye just to be able to see Anya once more.

I know how he feels. I’d give anything to be able to see Spike again. It’s weird. Sometimes I can hear him, like he’s right next to me, but really it’s just this voice inside my head that sounds just like him. When I went out with Faith the other day, I couldn’t help but think that Spike would have liked what I wore. Then I remembered that he would never be able to see the shirt I had on and it felt like I was kicked in the stomach. Still, it made me smile thinking about what he would have said or the snarky comments he would have made about me not having a clue about who Ramon is. One of these days I’ll have to go get his CD and listen to it just so I can see why Spike made such a fuss over him and his music.

Angel is still here in Cleveland with us. It’s weird having him around so much. He’s come out with me a few times on the nights it was my turn to patrol and it only made me miss my times with Spike that much more. He really was amazing to watch when he was fighting and the way he would look at me afterwards…and I would feel the same way he did and pretend that I didn’t. I was such an idiot. I see the way Angel looks at me sometimes when he thinks I don’t notice. Something is going on inside his head and more often than not, it’s making me a little bit uneasy to be around him. I don’t know what it is exactly, but something is there. I’ve wracked my brain trying to figure it out, but he’s all with the supportive mood when he’s not in his brood so I guess maybe its just that I’m uncomfortable because I’ve blurted out about how I feel about Spike to him in my more weaker moments before coming to Cleveland and he’s not even acknowledged what I’ve said. He’s not said anything about it at all, preferring to just give me the sad, longing looks instead. One of these days I’ll probably have to sit down and talk with him about it, though God knows, I’m not really looking forward to it. It’s just that something has to give between us already because this whole ‘me uneasy around Angel’ thing is getting harder to explain with the handy excuses and sooner or later someone is going to ask about it and I’ll run out of excuses.

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He held her in his arms, his heart both lifting in joy and crashing in despair as his worried eyes took in the paleness of her features. By all appearances, she seemed to have just fallen asleep, but rather than the softness of slumber, her eyes were closed and her slightly parted lips allowed her breath to whisper over his jaw as she lay in his arms unconscious.

He ached. He ached for this woman in his arms so much that it was almost a part of him; almost as normal as breathing would have been, if he had need for breath. Not a day went by that he didn't think of her at least once and as always, the familiar twinge in his stomach accompanied his thoughts of her. Sitting here, holding her this way was causing a riot of feelings inside him; feelings he tried to lock away time and again, only to fail daily every time he fell into his dreams. Worriedly, he began to rock her, nervous that something was going to take her away from him once more.

He pulled her closer to him, hugging her slim body to his chest as he nuzzled her forehead with his cheek. Taking a few deep breaths, necessary for their calming effects rather than for the oxygen, he tried to quell the anxiety that was creeping over him when he smelled it...her blood. Leaning away from her slightly, he used one hand to cradle her and the other to turn her head to the side, revealing a nasty looking lump on her jaw that was already turning various shades of purple and lightly bleeding; the result of her hitting the table as she fainted. A small trickle of blood had already trailed a crimson line down her jaw, beneath her chin to run a narrow trail across her neck and beneath her ear. He could already see a darker grey spot on the sleeve of his shirt where his arm cradled the back of her neck as he held her in his lap.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath through his nose, holding it before allowing it to rush out in a whoosh of dead air from his parted lips as he bent his head to nuzzle her cheek, the scent of her body mingling with the scent of her blood. He could feel his demon pushing to get out, the coppery scent a siren's call and he felt almost drunk, the smell of the petite blonde in his arms intoxicating to him and he groaned deeply, his tongue flicking out to lick her without thought.

His eyes opened partly, making him appear almost sleepy as they glittered gold and his breathing quickened, his eyes closing once more as he bent to lick her again, his tongue lightly flicking over the wound on her jaw. Relishing the taste of her on his tongue, he let it linger for a moment before he licked her again, more firmly this time as he lapped up the trail running down her neck. Unable to hold back any longer, his demon came to the fore, his fangs elongating as he tried his damnedest to keep from sinking them deeply into the throbbing pulse point in her slender neck. Instead he fastened his lips to the oozing wound on her jaw and nursed much as a baby would at his mother's breast.

Her blood pooled shallowly in his mouth and he raised his head and rolled it around and over his tongue, Slayer blood made all the more potent by the essence of the girl herself; his vampiric features shaping into a lazy pleasure before his eyes fly open in shock and he looks again at the unconscious woman in his arms. Swallowing slowly, he looks at her, his confusion apparent as he stares at her for a moment or two, not believing what his senses were telling him. Bending his head yet again, he tastes her once more, suckling at the wound and letting her blood run warmly down his throat, her taste so familiar to him, but bringing with it something else; something also familiar but darker...much darker.

His demon slides away, allowing his human form to return to the surface, confusion giving way to pain so deep, he felt as if a stake was slowly being pushed into his heart. Turning his head away, he realized that the stake had a name; Spike! Closing his eyes tightly, he whispered one word so softly, he wasn’t sure if he even spoke aloud at all: no!

Opening his eyes again, they glittered gold as they raked over her still features, jealously gripping his heart violently and his demon once more came to the fore, ready to seek vengeance. Laying her back against the pillows, he gripped the hem of her shirt in his hands and lifted it, seeking any marks that were not of his making. Unclasping the clip between her breasts that held her bra closed, he parted the folds, baring her breasts to his view. Not finding any marks, his roving hands move to the waistband of her loose sweatpants and his slides them over her hips and down her legs easily, her legs falling open as he pulled one legs free. It was only then that he noticed her. Her small, full breasts as they rose and fell with her breathing; the soft golden skin of her flat stomach and her parted thighs, the whispy lace of her black bikini panties as they covered the most intimate part of her.

He felt his cock swell and harden painfully as he remembered what it felt like to be buried inside her; how it felt to push into her, feeling her virgin pussy take him in and squeeze him snugly as her hymen gave way to his thrusts. He remembered the scent of her innocent arousal as it mixed with the scent of her virgin blood, driving out every coherent thought in his head, losing himself as he thrust into her mindlessly.

His demon raged, being driven by lust..by her taste on his tongue...by the jealousy of knowing she had lain with his Childe and he was lost to the rage taking over; to the need to reclaim what was his. Reaching down, he unfastened his trousers, pushing them down far enough to release his throbbing cock. Moving to stand on his knees between her thighs, he paused, looking down at her again; angry with her for allowing Spike to taint her body and he pulled the crotch of her panties aside and moved to shove his cock inside her. Forcing his way into her passage savagely, he fucked her, gathering her thighs in each hand as he lifted her up a bit to force his cock into her repeatedly. Harder and harder he rammed into her unconscious body, his thrusts wild and he lost his balance to fall on top of her. Bending his head to lick and suck at her breasts, he resumed his thrusts, his body pounding into her hard enough to make the mattress beneath them bounce as he bit at her nipples. He could feel his balls draw up and knew his climax was close, not caring that it had only been a few minutes at best, wanting only to obliterate all traces of Spike from the woman beneath him. Breathing hard, he buried his face in her neck, his fangs finding the pulse at the base of her neck as he fucked her savagely. Tensing up, he roared out as his climax overtook him and he rammed himself into her pliant body one final time as his fangs tore into her neck, re-claiming her with his fangs as he emptied his seed deep into her womb and he collapsed onto the bed beside her.

His eyes shooting open, Angel's demon retreated, his vampiric features melting away to reveal his shock and he rolled over suddenly, his chest heaving with un-needed breaths as he fought the blankets that somehow gotten tangled up around his legs.

"Oh God! Oh dear God, no! Oh God!" Angel's voice was hoarse, his throat dry as his heaving chest continued to pump air in and out of his lungs rapidly, his eyes filling with tears.

"Oh God. Buffy, oh God, Buffy!" His voice breaking, he flung his arm over his eyes, hiding his face in the bend of his elbow as the rest of what he said was muffled as he whispered into his sleeve. "What am I going to do?"