Evasive
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Author: Dark Star Website: Dark Star's Portal Summary:
Angel lends a hand Disclaimer:
Joss Whedon is creator and owner
of all things Angel Timeline:
Buffy’s Season 3 Rating:
Adult Category:
Fluff Distribution:
Just ask, please * The moon cast a strange
sheen across the deserted location known as Hammersmith Park. Most humans
didn’t use its shadowy paths and benches after the sun had set; an unspoken
fear kept them to their cars and well-lit streets. From the shadows cast by
the trees, a furtive figure came out of hiding, and stepped onto a path
bathed in moonlight. The vampire appeared to be listening to the silence,
before crossing the path and heading across the lawn. Behind him, a second
figure followed stealthily along the vampire’s trail, always keeping his prey
in view. The vampire tensed, and Angel froze with him, wondering what had
spooked his quarry. The small blonde came
out of nowhere, sending the startled vampire reeling with a sharp kick to his
chest. The vampire retaliated with a clumsy punch at the girl, and Angel
watched with affectionate pride as Buffy dealt the night creature an easy
backhand and followed through with her wooden stake. The vampire crumbled
away to nothing, leaving only dust in its wake. “Too easy,” Buffy
grumbled, wiping her dusty right hand on her skirt. “You couldn’t have put up
a little fight?” She turned to go, when
Angel moved toward her and said, “I suppose you know that one was mine?” Buffy spun, her smile of
greeting freezing on her lips. “You should have been
quicker.” She suggested. Angel took a step toward
her, and frowned when she stepped back. “I have to go,” Buffy
said, still shuffling backwards. “Meeting Giles. So, I’ll see you around,
okay?” Before she could turn away,
Angel said, “Buffy? Is everything okay?” “Of course.” She
shrugged. “Everything’s fine. Great, actually; just peachy. No need for you
to worry at all.” Angel stopped advancing,
and Buffy stopped retreating. He felt hurt and confused. He didn’t think he’d
done anything to upset her, and they hadn’t argued. Hell, he hadn’t even seen
her in days. “Have I done anything to
upset you?” “Of course not,” Buffy
said, a little too quickly. “Look, I’d really love to chat, but I have to go,
so…” She did turn then, but
before she could move, Angel had crossed the distance between them. He
grabbed her arm and spun her back. “What’s going on? Why
are you avoiding me?” He felt the muscles in
her arm stiffen at his touch. She was looking down, apparently studying his
boots. Something was definitely bothering her and she didn’t want to talk to
him about it. “Buffy?” She looked slowly up at
him, her eyes taking forever to reach his. But when they did, they were so
full of want, and love, and desire, that he knew. “Oh, Buffy,” he groaned
softly, gathering her in his arms. “Why didn’t you tell me?” “And that would have
helped…. how?” she asked. “We could have sorted
something out.” “Like what?” she replied
scornfully. “Is it really going to help if I tell you how much I want you to
make love to me? How I long for your touch? How much… I…” Buffy shook her
head angrily and tried to pull away. “This is ridiculous.” Angel’s grip tightened
on her. “You don’t have to avoid me.” “Yes I do,” she whispered.
“Angel, right now I need… the one thing that you can’t give me.” “I’m so sorry,” Angel
murmured, running his fingers through her hair and kissing the top of her
head. “I never meant for this to happen. And self-gratification isn’t always
enough, is it?” he added sympathetically. “Huh?” Buffy frowned. “Masturbation.” he
clarified. Angel watched,
enchanted, as a small flush spread slowly along her cheeks. She was clearly
ill at ease, and a sudden thought struck him. “You do masturbate,
don’t you?” “Of course,” she
confirmed quickly. “All the time. Never stop, actually.” She winced when she
realised what she’d babbled in her embarrassment; but Angel was staring at
her so intently, she just knew that he could see right through her. “Never?” he persisted
gently. Buffy shook her head
miserably. “I…I’ve tried, really I have. But I can’t seem to… you know…
finish it.” She looked so forlorn
that Angel couldn’t resist pulling her against his chest. Crap. Never? She must be climbing the damn
walls. Coming to a decision,
Angel suddenly released her, took hold of her hand and said, “Come with me.” Suddenly afraid, Buffy
pulled back. “Angel, we can’t.” “We won’t.” He gave her
a reassuring smile. “This will be safe, Buffy. I promise.” Buffy allowed Angel to
lead her through a dense patch of trees, until they reached a small, secluded
area. She realised that Angel had found a spot where it would be almost
impossible to be ambushed, and she swallowed nervously, wondering what he had
in mind. Buffy shivered as Angel
touched her face, tracing a gentle path along her cheek and down toward her
neck. She tilted her face up towards his expectantly, hoping that he would
kiss her. He did not disappoint her. His lips caressed hers, his hands
settling on her waist as he pulled her closer. Buffy whimpered, wanting more,
wanting him to douse the fire in her veins and cure the dull ache that had
settled in the pit of her stomach. Angel gently lowered her
down onto the damp grass, his lips not leaving hers for an instant. Buffy’s
kisses grew more urgent, as the sexual frustration that she’d been denying
herself now came rushing to the fore.
Angel slowly undid the
buttons on Buffy’s shirt, and pulled the fabric aside. He slipped a hand
under the white lace of her bra, pulling it up over her chest. Buffy gasped at his
touch, her skin tingling from the change in temperature as her naked flesh
met the night air. Angel finally broke the kiss,
slowly moving his lips down over her chin and throat, tiny little kisses that
trekked boldly to her breast, where Angel gently sucked at the swollen
nipple. At the same time, he slid a hand over her thigh, inching under her
skirt and over her stomach. By the time his exploring hand eased under the
waistband of her panties, Buffy was arching up toward him, desperately trying
to impale herself on his exploring fingers. Please… She begged silently, oh please,
please…please… Buffy cried out with the
dual sensations of Angel’s tongue languidly lapping at her breast, and his
cool fingers pushing confidently inside her. Buffy’s arms instinctively went
round him, her hands clutching at his jacket as she arched violently against
him; her need spiralling into desperation with the overwhelming sensations
assaulting her body. Angel frowned; he could
feel all her muscles locking up, and he guessed why she hadn’t been able to
bring herself off. As the Slayer, she was used to being in control. He
wondered if perhaps she was afraid to give in, to let go. He shifted slightly,
trailing the kisses back up her throat, and he changed the rhythm of his
fingers, deliberately slowing the whole thing down. “You’re fighting me,” he
breathed softly. “I can’t…” she moaned
hoarsely into his shoulder, her hips grinding urgently against the hand
working between her legs. “Easy,” he whispered.
“You’re trying too hard, Buffy. Your body knows what to do… all you have to
do is let it.” Buffy closed her eyes,
trying to focus on Angel’s soft words, feel only his gentle touch on – and in
– her body. Angel’s fingers twitched as he changed the angle a little,
curling a digit upwards…and Buffy shrieked as her first orgasm ripped through
her, scattering her thoughts and convulsing her body. “Good girl,” Angel
murmured approvingly as his lips caressed her flushed cheek. His hand kept up
a steady rhythm, forcing her to make the climb to reach her peak, over and
over again. He found it highly erotic to watch her body shudder and jerk in
response to him, and he captured her mouth in a kiss, trying to muffle her
cries. When the kiss ended,
Buffy moaned helplessly, “Angel, no more…I can’t…” “Yes you can.” He smiled
gently, getting a perverse pleasure from making her do more than she thought
she was capable of. It was a matter of pride, too. It hurt that he couldn’t
make love to her, and he felt that he’d let her down. But he’d be damned if
her let her think he couldn’t satisfy her. “Angel…” Buffy
whimpered, gripping his shoulders with both hands, her eyes locking greedily
on his. She wanted to lose herself in those eyes, to bathe in the love that
she saw reflected in them. Her final orgasm tore
away every vestige of decorum as her body jerked helplessly in Angel’s strong
arms and her muscles clamped painfully on his fingers. He kept motionless as
she floated slowly back to earth. Her skin was flushed, and her heart created
a cacophony to his sensitive hearing; but there was a relaxed feel to her
muscles that hadn’t been there before. Angel reluctantly
removed his fingers from inside her, provoking a mewl of protest at the loss.
Buffy opened her eyes to look at him. “God, Angel,” she gasped
out. “That was…” What? Amazing? Exciting? Wonderful? “…good.” She finished lamely. “Thank
you.” “My pleasure.” He
replied, stretching out a hand and gently stroking her neglected breast.
Buffy gasped in appreciation and Angel added, “But next time, we should
choose somewhere a little more private.” Next time? Buffy’s strength was
returning and she couldn’t resist a little tease. “I don’t know, Angel.
That was pretty intense,” she told him mischievously. “Do you think that next
time could be as good as that?” Angel heard the
challenge in her voice, and he propped himself up on one arm to look at her.
The lazy smile that spread across his face made her stomach lurch and her
heart do a little hop-skip. “That was nothing,” he
replied with assurance. “Next time, Buffy…I’ll make you scream.” The End Return to Fiction Index
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