As he rounded the crypt, the scent of vanilla filled the air, and shock hit him over the head like a two by four.

The sight before his eyes made him wildly shake his head in denial. Buffy, wearing only a skimpy corset, was leaning against the crypt, her head arched, her breasts nearly spilling from he satin. One leg was over Spike's shoulder, and he held her up, his platinum head between her thighs.

His childe's pants were around his knees, and Angel could see their mingled secretions smeared over his semi-hard cock.

Angel saw red, wanting to kill them both. In a fury, he grabbed Spike and pulled him away from Buffy, hitting him hard several times until his childe crumpled to the ground. Giving him one final kick, Angel turned, more furious and sickened than he could remember being.

As Angel stalked towards her, Buffy froze, like a deer in headlights. Fear, sorrow, shame, the remnants of sexual frustration tangled together inside of her and she felt herself paling, then blushing. Her hands moved to cover her mound and Angel grabbed her upper arms, jerking them to the sides.

His eyes slid insolently down her body, and his frown turned slowly into a sneer.

Buffy wanted to crumple to the ground and sob in humiliation, but all she could do was try to twist free of him, as his eyes burned into her.

Pulling her away from the crypt, Angel flung her down the path. His voice was clipped and icy. "Get dressed. I'm taking you home."

Stumbling, Buffy ran back to her where she had left her clothes, her whole body shaking in reaction. She could feel his eyes on her the entire way.

She couldn't bear to look at Spike.

As she jerked on her clothes, she could hear Angel stalking her. He made no attempt to be quiet, and her nerves shattered. Her fingers fumbled with the zipper on her skirt, and she bit into her lower lip as she tugged on the metal tab. Finally it slid up and she reached for her t-shirt.

Angel scooped it up off the ground and handed it to her.

Buffy avoided looking at him as she pulled it over her head. She saw him pick up her bag, and his other hand reaching for her, and she skittered backwards.

Firmly Angel grabbed her wrist and jerked her towards him.

"Let me go," Buffy whispered, her voice slightly hysterical. This was so much worse than her mom finding her with Spike. Ever since the first time with Spike, Buffy had tried very hard not to think about what Angel's reaction would be.

She had only known that it would be bad.

"Home," he ground out, turning and pulling her with him.

Finally Buffy had the courage to look over at Spike. He still lay crumpled on the ground, his jeans around his knees, his nearly naked body gleaming in the moonlight. Fear swelled in her, fear for him, and she found her voice. "We can't just leave him..."

"He's fine," Angel bit out angrily. "He's awake and faking it because he knows better than to confront me." He looked down at her, noting her pale face and the concern in her eyes, and his anger poured forth. He wanted to hit her, very, very hard. "But, he doesn't seem to know better than to try to take what's mine."

Angel's grip tightened and Buffy whimpered as he dragged her down the path. His strides were long and very angry, and Buffy nearly had to run to keep up with him.

Slowly, past the humiliation and fear and pain, his words sank into her.

'...what's mine'?

As they reached her front lawn, Buffy finally got angry and pulled free of him. She was aware of an ache in her wrist, but her humiliation and anger fueled her.

"How dare you?" she said, at first, softly, then louder.

Turning to face her and dropping her bag at her feet, Angel stared into her animated face. His own fury sparked in his eyes and he lashed back at her. "How dare I? How dare you go against everything you should believe in and take a demon to your bed?"

Buffy's hand arced out and slapped across his face before she could even absorb his hatefilled words. As his eyes flashed golden at her, she yelled back. "You dumped me, remember? You no longer have any say in anything I do, and if I want to fuck every demon I come across, I will."

"You're acting like a spoiled brat."

"And, that's none of your business either," she shot back. "All I ever wanted was to be with you. I didn't care that we couldn't make love. You were the one who decided that I needed to experience more than you could offer. I wasn't given a choice, just shown the door."

Angel growled in frustration. "I wanted you to find a man, a human man, to give you what I couldn't. I wanted you to have the chance for children and a future in the sun."

"I'll never have those things."

"You won't even try."

His cold words lanced through her, and Buffy knew them to be true. She didn't want a human man. She didn't want to have a child, knowing that she'd never live to see it grow up. She didn't want to leave some nice guy a widower at too young an age.

Why was she the only one who was willing to face the fact that her days on the planet were numbered?

"That's my business," Buffy replied cooly, her temper under control again.

Angel fought to bring himself under the same control. His hands clenched into fists at his side and he fought to restrain the demon that wanted to leap out, grab her and pound her into the ground. Finally, he shoved that side of himself down and his face slid fully back to its normal, calm mask. "Every time I thought of you in the arms of another man, I nearly died, but I wanted that for you. By letting yourself become involved with a demon, you've tainted the love I feel for you, the desire I had for you to live a normal life."

Buffy felt a pang of pain in her chest at his words. Every syllable had been torn painfully from him. She knew he loved her and that she had hurt him by being with Spike, but...it had been his choice. "I'm sorry you're hurt, Angel, but you wanted me to move on, and I have. I will *not* regret that I moved on to Spike."

A sneer formed on Angel's lips before he could stop it. "You're just using him a substitute for me. I can't believe he's allowing that to happen, not after Dru."

Paling, Buffy forced her lower lip to stop trembling and wrapped her arms across her chest. "I don't have to defend my relationships to you. No where in the ex-boyfriend manual does it say I owe you shit."

His eyes narrowed dangerously and he took a step towards her, backing her against the tree in the front yard. "No," he finally murmured. "But, Spike is *my* childe, and that bond is something that cannot be broken as long as we both walk this planet, and that bond means he will *never* touch you again."

Before she could protest, Angel spun, his coat whipping around him, and vanished into the night.

Trembling, Buffy sank to her knees, finally allowing the tears to fall.

A minute later, the front porch light came on and Joyce walked slowly down the steps and across the yard to her sobbing child. She had heard nearly ever word and her heart ached for Buffy. Dropping to her knees, she pulled her daughter half onto her lap and began to rock her.

Cold as ice, Spike lay still, his eyes closed, until he felt his sire disappear from his senses. Opening his eyes, he stared blankly at the moon, forcing aside all thought.

Finally, he found the energy to pull up his jeans, then put on the rest of his clothes. As he did so, fear began to leak past the self-imposed barriers.

Fear for Buffy.

Objectively, he knew that he should be worried for himself. Angel was furious--Spike had the bruises and cracked ribs to prove it--and had every right to put an end to Spike's life. From the comments Angel had made, the younger male was pretty certain that he wasn't doomed.

But, his sire could call on the bond. He couldn't make him leave town. He couldn't stop him from killing. But, Angel had first dibs, so to speak, on Buffy, and Spike had poached on that territory.

Spike had known that Angel would find out some time. He had also known that Angel still loved the Slayer, that he had wanted her to find happiness with a human, and that his childe would never be good enough for her.

Buffy thought that she had all the choices, but she didn't understand vampire relationships. Angel had a soul, but he was still a vampire.

Wrapping his duster around himself, and feeling a bleak despair wash over him, Spike slipped into the darkness.

Furious, frustrated and wanting blood, Angel returned to the cemetery. He wasn't surprised to find Spike gone.

He still couldn't believe that Spike had dared touch Buffy.

Though, he didn't know why he was surprised. Spike had known Drusilla for less than thirty six hours before he had seduced her into his bed.

And, Angel had known of Spike's attraction to the Slayer for a long time, probably longer than the irritating blond had known it.

But, he was stunned that Buffy had allowed Spike to touch her.

To...

He couldn't even think about it. Every time he did, he saw red.

He hadn't lied to Buffy. He had wanted her to find a human man to love. It had nearly killed him to tell her they couldn't see each other anymore as anything but friends, but he had done it, knowing it was the only way. He wanted her to be happy. He wanted her to have the things he could never give her.

He had known that it wouldn't happen immediately. He hadn't been surprised to find her not dating.

But, this...

Angel shook his head and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his coat, as he headed out of the cemetery.

He had to find his childe and have a long talk with the boy.

Dawn was rapidly approaching when Angel reached his home and crossed the threshold, just beating the first rays of sun. He had searched for hours, but had failed to find his errant childe. The only place he hadn't searched was Spike's lair. Angel knew where it was, but he also knew the danger of going in alone. Those sworn to Spike were not of his blood and not bound by his own blood bonds.

Angel knew Spike felt little but anger and disgust towards him. It was doubtful the younger male would stop an attack on the older on his own turf.

Sighing heavily, shoulders slumping, Angel shrugged out of his coat and dropped it across a chair, not even caring to hang it away properly. Tired and heartsick, he headed upstairs, just wanting to reach his bed and sleep a dreamless sleep, and hopefully drive away the images of his beloved golden Buffy in the arms of the demon he had sired.

Pushing open the door to his bedroom, Angel felt the shock of recognition hit him at the same moment his eyes fell on the figure on the bed.

In the center of the scarlet satin, knelt his childe, naked, his back to the door, his muscles taut as he rested on his heels.

A bullwhip was draped over his shoulder, pooling at his feet.

 

The End

Note: This series will NOT become a threesome. I already have one of those. But, someway I will deal with the A/S sire/childe bond in the next fic. It may include sex; I haven't decided, but in the end this is a B/S series.

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