Rather Poetic

-All characters belong to Joss Whedon. I didn't create any of them, I'm just borrowing them.

- Just a word of advice: this fanfic DOES contain content that many readers won't find appealing. There is rape, murder, molestation, strong language, a lot of smut, and a hell of a lot of violence/gore.

- Does Angelus feel love, or obsession? You'll have to find that out on your own. Readers, be cautioned. This is ANGELUS, NOT ANGEL. Angel may be in love with Buffy and may be sweet to her, but Angelus wants her tortured before he wants her dead. He may change his mind, he may love her, or he may not. Find out ;]

- This fanfic: Takes place during the beginning of fourth season: After Angel keeps a watchful eye on Buffy to make sure she isn't harmed, he leaves Sunnydale before she could realize he was there. But he had a secret to tell her: When he was released from the demonic dimension where he was held captive after his death, he was given an ultimatum: Keep his soul long enough to lure the Slayer into his clutches so she could trust him, and therefore allow Angel to unknowingly become her murderer; but since Angel didn't succeed, the Powers That Be are now going to take over. Angel's soul is gone. Angelus has now returned. Some reference to Angel: Season One- "I Will Remember You" episode, smut, foul language, and plot twists.

The more I look at her, the harder it is for me not to run up to her and tell her what will happen, I thought broodingly to myself as I gazed at my former lover: the spunk, blonde Slayer, Buffy Summers.

She was sitting with her friends, Willow Rosenberg and Xander Harris at one of the high tables in the center of the Bronze, laughing with them over some stupid crack Xander made while I stood in the distance, the shadows obstructing any possible view that they'd have of me.

Her hair is longer, I thought with a small smile. I'd always loved her hair and all the fun hairstyles she molded with it. And how it always smelled like vanilla, and how it slipped between my fingers like silk… I winced; shaking myself from the memories I had of her, of her and I, together. I wasn't here to reminisce about my old lover. I was here to make sure that she was fine, that the big evil I sensed was taken care of. There was a strong feeling in my gut that told me all was well once again in Sunnydale and my beloved Slayer and her friends were safe. Safe, I thought with a sigh. They're safe for now, but not for long. Time is almost up. They'll be in grave danger again, and Buffy will have to save the day… unless the darker part of me gets to her first.

The demon in me, Angelus, bulked wildly at the thought of killing Buffy. He remembered her; he remembered how she felt, squirming beneath his grip and how beautiful she looked with tears in her eyes when she cried because of his cruel words. Angelus wasn't finished with her, and I knew it. As soon as my time was up, Angelus would reign over me once again, and he would stop at nothing to kill her like he had killed all the other girls he became obsessed with. And there was nothing, nothing I could do to stop it.

†

I sat alone, and I remembered the meeting Buffy and I had yesterday- which is the same meeting we just had- when came to my office in Los Angeles, completely furious because she found out that I had been watching her. The way she walked in with her gorgeous hair flowing gracefully on her shoulders, dressed in black, and sporting her classic wedge-heeled boots, I almost couldn't fight the urge to take her in my arms and kiss her. It was only yesterday… well, to me, it was. Buffy wouldn't think of it as yesterday because to her, the incident where she came to my office happened today.

The way that Mohra demon came in and attacked us, it seemed like the perfect set up. Like the Powers That Be were purposely mocking me because they knew I'd always want to have Buffy the way a mortal man could- a mortal like Xander, for instance- or worse… They knew I'd want to have Buffy the way I knew Angelus could have her. I had a sick, twisting feeling in my stomach that they sent the Mohra demon to make me human to hurt me… to make me always wonder about what I always wanted but could never have.

We did spend a beautiful day though, Buffy and I. When the Mohra demon's blood mixed with mine, when it made me human and I saw Buffy's face light up in mixed shock and happiness as I approached her in direct sunlight and kissed her with the passion I used to express to her, it made me so overjoyed to be a man. I was a man that could have my lover, finally. And when we kissed in my quarters underneath my office, and the kissing led to intense lovemaking on every surface in that room, I felt like it was all too good to be true.

And then… when I had to return to Buffy after I talked with the Oracles about my condition and asked them to reverse it… I wanted to die.

The clock on my desk read 8:56.

As I came down the steps to my apartment, I saw Buffy wearing a beautiful red dress with flowers on it that flowed gracefully as she paced. She looked up at me when she saw me enter the room, the expression on her face mirrored the worry she probably had when she first dealt with me disappearing on her after an amazing night of lovemaking.

"I'm guessing that expression isn't because they were all out of fresh OJ at the deli… What happened?"

I wanted to smile at her quip. Leave it to Buffy to make a joke to try and lighten the mood. It's something I'd always love about her.

But I had to remain stoic. I had things I needed to say to her. There wasn't enough time.

"Nothing happened," I promised her, walking away from her as I reached the landing. But after a few steps I had to turn to look at her. "I just-"

"Where have you been?" she cut in, the worry evident in her voice.

I looked down and stood before her before admitting, "I went to see the Oracles." I paused, noticing her shock. "I asked them to turn me back."

"What? Why?" she declared.

"Because more than ever I know how much I love you." I answered her, trying to reach out to touch her.

But she backed up and walked away from me. "No," she cried. "No, you didn't."

I approached her again. I had to keep pressing this. I had to tell her. "And if I stayed mortal one of us would wind up dead, maybe both of us. You heard what Mohra said."

She wheeled around in a fast blur. "Mohra is gone. We killed him."

"He said others would come."

"They always come. And they always will. But that's my problem now, not yours, remember?"

"No," I shook my head. "I won't just stand by and let you fight, maybe die, alone."

"Then we fight this together," she pleaded.

I crossed by her, fist clenching as I spoke. "You saw what happened last night. If anything I'm a liability to you." I faced her as I said this, I had to make her understand. "You take chances to protect me, and that's not just bad for you, it's bad for the people we were meant to help."

Tears were welling up in her eyes now. I wanted to stop what I was saying, to go right back to the Oracles and tell them that I couldn't handle the burden of not having her and that I'd like to be a mortal man. That I'd die happy as a human knowing that I loved and lost rather than not loved at all.

But the look on Buffy's face… it stopped me. This had to happen. It had to happen now.

"So… what?" she cried. "You just took a whole twenty-four hours to weigh the ups and downs of being a regular Joe and decided it was much more fun being a superhero?"

"You know that's not it," I replied. "How can we be together if the cost is your life or the lives of others?" I stopped her then, and she paused, just staring at me with tears in those mesmerizing green eyes. My mouth started working in an uneasy way, feeling horrible for the harsh reality my words created. I came forward and took her in my arms, comforting her. "I know. I couldn't tell you. I wasn't sure- if I could do it if I woke up to you for one more morning."

She kept her face in my chest, sniffing, "I understand," she said, and then raising her head to look at me. "So, what happens now?"

I cupped her face as a tear ran down her cheek, and took a deep breath before I said, "The Oracles are giving us back the day, turning back time, so I can kill Mohra before his blood makes me mortal."

"When?"

I glanced over at the clock on my desk. A pang shot through my chest. It was now 9:00. "Another minute."

Her eyes widened, the shock of the situation rushing over her sweet features. "A minute? No. No, it's not enough time!" she reasoned, shaking her head.

"We don't have a choice, it's done."

How I wanted to die. So ironic that I would give everything to be mortal for Buffy and the day my wish comes true is the day I decide I want to die. I couldn't win either way. If I'm mortal I'll be able to give Buffy the life she wants, the life she deserves, complete with lovemaking and kids and marriage, but I'll be the Mary Jane to Buffy's Spiderman. I'd be a helpless liability that she'd always have to worry about. And if I'm immortal, I'll always be limited with her and be subjected to kisses and fondling but I'd never be able to be one with her, to have her take on my name, to have her bear our children. But I'd still be a superhero. I could help her fight demons, rid the world of evil, and save her life like no one else could, but that wouldn't be enough. Either way, I am damned.

"How am I supposed to go on with my life knowing what we had? What we could have had?"

I looked away from her eyes for a brief second, her words cutting into my beating heart. Beating heart, I realized, and not some hollow organ that remains there just so a Slayer can penetrate it as means to end my existence. My heart was beating, I was alive, and it was breaking.

"You won't," I whispered, looking at her with sad eyes. "No one will know but me."

"Everything we did…" she try to rationalize.

I cut her off. "It never happened."

She shook her head. "It did. It did. I know it did!"

I couldn't say anything, because I was rendered speechless. She looked down at my chest and put her hand on it. "I felt your heart beat."

"Buffy…"

She looked at me, tears in her eyes and her mouth fixed in a pout. She looked so upset, so alone, like the one thing in her life that meant anything to her was now ripped away. I knew she felt that way, because I was feeling the same thing. Everything that ever mattered to me before now seemed trite, stupid, next to what I had before me. The most beautiful girl I had ever seen, the most powerful Slayer the Powers That Be have ever known, the enchanting beauty that had bewitched me was standing before me in tears. My mortal enemy, my true love, my reason for living and for dying, stood before me and all I could do was kiss her.

I pulled her in and the fire started. Every time we kissed it was like the sweetest nectar I could ever taste. Better than alcohol, better than blood, and better than the food I had eaten in the past day. Nothing was more satisfying than a kiss from Buffy Summers. She was the thirst I couldn't quench, the hunger I couldn't sate, the urge I couldn't quell. I kissed her passionately, and she kissed back, wrapping one arm around my shoulder and the other around my head, and I followed the same motions. It was a feverish, desperate kiss that ended with her pulling back and looking at me as if the world as we know it was falling away.

She stole a glance at the clock, and less than ten seconds remained. "Oh, God!" she cried, more tears spilling down her cheeks. She gripped my shoulders hard, saying, "It's not enough time!"

"Shhh, please. Please," I begged her. Tears were now coming to my eyes. They stung at first, the liquid foreign to me, but I blinked and realized that I was crying. I held on to her as we sobbed, saying "Please, please," in an effort to get her to stop weeping. The sound of her crying was breaking my heart into smaller and smaller pieces.

She brought herself into my embrace and we hugged for the last time as she said in my ear, "No, I'll never forget. I'll never forget. I'll never forget. I'll never forget." And as she said those words, we gripped tighter. We knew she would, I knew she would. As much as I'd like to believe that no matter what the circumstances were, Buffy could always manage to be the exception to the rule, but I knew in this case that wasn't possible. Buffy would forget. She'd never remember. She'd never know how complete I felt when I was with her. She'd never know that the only time I was ever truly complete was that day.

And I sit here, thinking of yesterday, and I know she'll never remember. The demon in me, Angelus, jolted suddenly in me and I gripped my dead heart in surprise.

"No!" I gasped, eyes squeezed shut as I tried to catch my breath. "No, not now. This can't be happening now."

I cast my eyes to the heavens, knowing this was the end but trying so hard to prevent it. "Please, please!" I begged the vacant air. "I'll do anything- anything! I couldn't give you Buffy because I love her. Please, I'll do anything just don't take my soul away! Don't take it away!"

The sensation of my demon came stronger and it burned. I recoiled in the fetal position and tried with all my mind to keep it back. "No!" I screamed. It burned, seared through me and the pain was growing. It multiplied in brute force and there was nothing I could do. Angelus was coming. I felt his thoughts, I knew what he wanted. He wanted Buffy.

"Buffy!" I screamed, hoping she wasn't too far away to hear me. She left only a few minutes ago. Shouldn't she hear me? "Buffy!" I yelled again. "Buffy!"

I screamed, this time from the ripping pain in my head as I realized Angelus was now in my mind, and he was pulling me into the dark abyss that he used to dwell in. I would now be the prisoner, I would now be held captive by him. And the last thought I will remember was how ironic it was that both times I lost my soul, I screamed Buffy's name right before it took me.

So this is my first Buffy/Angelus fanfic. I hope you guys enjoy it =)