A/N: It's been ages since I last posted. I'm still alive. Finals are this week (work has also been keeping me busy) and before that gets started, I decided, out of nowhere, to post a B/A story because I miss writing about them dammit. I don't know when I'll get to my other unfinished stories, but hopefully sometime during the holidays. If not, I may post something different. As always, nothing belongs to me. This one contains some adult situations, so you have been warned. It also takes place before the events of Passion. Enjoy!

I don't think the word ugly can fitly describe the vampire that was trying to pummel me. Grotesque didn't belong under that category either.

He looked as if he came out of the way back machine, somewhere around the 1970's era, complete with bell bottoms and a tattered tie-dye T-shirt that left a distinct scent that could scare even the skunks off.

I stood two feet from the right, with my back leaning against the cold concrete of a weeping angel tombstone for support, the contents floating in the bowels of my stomach threatening to exit through my mouth. Thankfully I held them in check, and before I had the chance to connect my foot against the vampire's octagon shaped face, the hairs on the back of my neck and arms rose in unison.

Somewhere in the darkness, someone was watching.

My Slayer senses caught it almost immediately. The reason I say almost is that I haven't felt a stirring like that in six months. So in a way, it felt strange, alien almost. And it could only mean one thing.

Angel. Or should I say, Angelus.

I couldn't afford to let him distract me. Keeping my attention solely on the other vampire, I stalled my movements, holding onto my aspen stake, deciding what the next course of action would be when it body slammed my tiresome body against the same tombstone I stood near earlier.

The vampire snarled.

His breath was hot and feral on my face. l closed my eyes and pulled my head back, both of my ears ringing. I glanced directly at his yellow eyes and snarled right back.

I was angry. This was the-I-can't-ever-have-a-normal-life kind welding up inside me, waiting to disperse.

Angelus had the gall to show his face around after everything that happened, which I admit, was hugely my fault, and I showed it through the sudden kicks and punches I was inflicting upon the poor bastard of my arch enemy.

Somewhere in the cemetery, the laughter of who was once Angel, the vampire with a soul, my lover, echoed. It roared in my mind and in my blood, and I responded right back with a quiver that didn't stop despite my body's demands. I don't know of any other demon or vampire who had a laugh the way Angelus had. It was the kind of laugh that reminded you that there were monsters lurking in the night, waiting to prey on you when you least expect it. Since the night we made love, his laughter had haunted my dreams.

Last night was one of them.

A swift one two punch to the hippie vampire's sternum and I plastered the stake into its heart. Motes of dust scattered across the dried fall leaves. I took a breath. The rest was finally silence.

A moment later, raucous laughter ensued. Then hands clapping in a gesture that was meant to be mocking.

"Are you going to keep hiding like a coward, or should I drag you out and kick your ass?" I asked to the shadows, twirling my stake between my fore fingers as if I didn't have a care in the world. My facade didn't give it away, but my heart was in the opposite place.

Conflicting emotions were battling it out to the death, ripping my innards into pieces.

"Aw, well, that's not a nice thing to say to your vampire lover," replied the cold voice I knew all too well. My heart thumped violently against my chest. I hated so much that a part of me loved him still.

I snorted, feigning sadness. "Aw come on Angel, you know me all too well. Or, at least I thought you did."

I didn't have to see his face to know that he was smirking.

After what seemed like an eternity, he revealed himself from behind an Irish cross tombstone, adorned in his trademark leather pants, duster coat, and button down black velvet shirt. Under the single pale light of the moon, he looked otherworldly, dangerously beautiful. I tried to keep myself steady, my face a stern, unreadable mask in his presence.

"Oh yes. That was a night too easy to forget if I remember correctly," Angelus taunted, circling around me as if I was a prey waiting to be eaten apart. I'm not going to lie that his words struck me like a blade. I kept my face neutral in spite of it.

"I could say the same thing about you Angelus. Your performance was, how should I say this, not up to par. You didn't satisfy me in the least." I shrugged my shoulders casually when saying this. If he could hurt me, then so could I.

He growled, his yellow eyes blazing with a penetrating light I hadn't seen before. And just like that, he was in front of me, hurdling me towards him, his ice fingers digging deeply into my shoulders. He tightened his hold hard enough that my stake dropped onto the dew-scented grass. I saw that his mouth was inches from mine.

My heart wanted to leap out of my body.

Unlike the vampire I staked earlier, his breath wasn't repulsive. As much as I wanted to, I didn't resist him. I didn't try to force myself free, or threaten him with violence. My tear-stained eyes paid attention to anywhere but the man, vampire I should say, that was clutching me like a death grip. I had no energy left to give him the same fate I gave to the other vampire.

"Look at me!" his voice was an octave higher, loud enough to wake the dead.

"No," I whispered limply.

"You need to know something."

"Oh yeah? And what is that? You're gonna try to bite me?" I retorted. Seconds after seconds, my body withered like a flower, but funny enough, my snarky replies were infinite.

"No, dammit! This," Angelus caressed against my ear. Confusion and fear were naked on my face, until I felt something pressing in between my legs.

His erection. This time I fought against his body, but not before my mouth let out a moan of pleasure. No. No. I shouldn't be feeling this. Not after...not after everything. The pain he put me through. Myself not knowing what would happen after the night we made love.

"Don't fight it. I know you want it as much as I do," Angelus whimpered under his breath, which was now mixed with animalistic pleasure.

"Why are you doing this?" I cried against his shoulder. His thrusts were becoming quicker and ongoing and this time, I was the one digging my fingers into his back. It was so wrong. Our moans were becoming louder and filling the quietness of the cemetery.

My back was touching the wet blades of grass, and Angelus was on top of me, his body frigid against mine. I didn't realize that my legs were circling his waist. Or that we were both naked from the bottom down. I was too lost in the sensation and moment to realize anything else around us.

"Because he still wants you, and so do I. You're ours." I heard him pant against my neck. I felt his manhood pulsing inside me. His thrusts were becoming harder and faster, and I frantically grab hold of the grass, anything to endure his penetration. I don't know how long we were going at it. It felt like hours had passed and yet, it was still night.

When I tried to get a word out, he shushed me with his lips. I felt his fangs briefly pressing against the soft flesh. He tilted my head to the side, exposing my neck.

I felt the sharp sting of his teeth, my blood quenching his thirst.

I did nothing in my power to stop him.