His Slayer had apparently given up trying to keep him from entering her room because her window was now unlocked and free of vampire deterrents. He had laughed over the weeks when he had met with window frames bearing long strings of garlic cloves with crosses on either side of the windows. They had given him pause, but had not stopped him from getting inside.

He had come by at various times the prior five nights despite having no information to offer her. He refused to acknowledge that he wanted to see if she was doing better. This was the first night that she had been sleeping when he had arrived. He checked his watch and found he had been watching her sleep for over three hours now. He deduced she must have been to a physician when he saw a prescription bottle of prenatal vitamins on the nightstand. The bottle in the open led him to believe his Slayer had informed her mother of her condition.

He had found no information about vampires having children whether it be a human woman with male vampire, female vampire with male human or vampire to vampire. But he had found a doctor in the Los Angeles area who specialized in pregnancies for weres and the like. Angelus would pass the doctor information on to his Slayer, knowing she might be more comfortable dealing with a doctor who knew about the things she hunted.

He sat on the edge of her bed and listened to her breathing taking in how peaceful she looked. She seemed to be aware of his presence because she shifted toward him. He wondered how it was he and his Slayer could do the unthinkable. It was not enough that she had fallen in love with him and him with her, but she had to become pregnant with his child. He was curious just what that said about their relationship and its place in history.

He reached out and grazed her forehead with his fingertips. A part of him rebelled at the thought of waking her when she was sleeping peacefully after days of going without. But it had been days since he had been able to watch her and he found himself unable to resist. He heard a soft sigh escape her lips but knew from her breathing that she was still asleep.

He pulled his hand away from her forehead and placed it over her abdomen. After a moment he pushed the blanket and top sheet aside, exposing her pajamas. He slid the white cotton camisole top up slightly and could not help but stare at her. He knew the fetus was not even a half an inch long at this point, but he could not help but wonder about it. What would his Slayer look like large with their child growing inside of her? What would a child of theirs look like? It was a concept he had never bothered to entertain before now. He placed a hand against her abdomen so deep in thought that her warmth startled him. She groaned softly as she exhaled and shifted again under his touch.

He traced a path on her skin with a fingertip following the bottom of her ribcage realizing that Soul Boy might not have been so stupid. Darla and Dru had always left him wanting more. More of what he had never quite grasped, as they were not things even Liam understood or wanted. But Soul Boy had not just understood but wanted them and, yet, had been willing to love her from afar. All Angelus knew was the thrill of the torturing and the actual kill always wore off and the rush and warmth that came from the feed wore off even faster, particularly now after a one hundred year respite.

In over two hundred forty years he had been able to rely on only one thing, that this girl, his mate, loved him unconditionally. Darla would have fed him to the lions to save her own skin or just for the sheer amusement of watching him swing in the wind. Drusilla was pretty much the same way. How quickly she had returned to Angelus' bed was evidence of that fact. Spike had cared for her for over one hundred years and a stronger Dru had cast him aside for the most part.

He had given thought to turning his Slayer so that he could have her with him for eternity, but she would never give in no matter how tempting he might make it. He had heard her complain several times about having to do the right thing, but in the end she always did. She had even faced The Master knowing she would die, which was something Angelus would not have done for anyone - soul or not. Perhaps he might do it for her, but certainly not for anyone else or just because it was the right thing to do.

It would be interesting to see what she would be like as a vampire given her strength and her life experiences as the Slayer. She would be a good warrior, a good strategist, and a natural leader. She had said little about her brief experience as a vampire the prior year so Angelus had no idea how his mate had felt or what she thought about it. He knew well enough she had been horrified about it, but he had never gotten her to talk about the feelings she had experienced past that and knew she had to have some feelings on the matter. From what he had ascertained from talking to Rupert and his Slayer he was able to deduce she had retained her Slayer strength.

Unfortunately, soul or not, he recognized that his Slayer, mate or not, belonged in and to the sunlight. It was what had frustrated him about letting himself get close to her, accepting her into his life, Soul Boy had known there were things he could never give her. He also knew that unlike William, Liam and Darla, his Slayer was inherently good. Angelus did not mind in the least, but Soul Boy had been horrified by what his soulless self had done to Drusilla. Not horrified enough to put her out of her misery, Angelus noted.

His Slayer shifted under his touch, bringing him out of his thoughts of turning her. A glance at her closed eyes followed by a quick listen to her breathing told him that she was still asleep. She placed a hand on her abdomen just below his, not even an inch separating their hands. She smiled and exhaled a soft sigh and Angelus wondered what his Slayer was dreaming about at the moment.

He had read somewhere that pregnant women were susceptible to intense and sometimes strange dreams, which had amused him given she already had prophetic dreams. Strange and intense dreams were part of being the Slayer not to mention the dreams that he had shared with her. The dreams they shared he suspected had to do with their connection not with her being the Slayer.

She murmured incomprehensibly in her sleep, and he realized that it was probably time to go before she woke up. He lifted his hand from her abdomen and heard a barely audible whimper in protest and so he set his hand down and looked at her, waiting for any sign she was awake.

"Buff?" he queried in barely a whisper.

"Don't go," she whimpered and then placed her hand over his. She slid his hand up over her ribs, pushing her camisole pajama top up, bearing her breasts to him. He groaned softly as she placed his hand over a breast and released it. She was probably dreaming of her precious Angel, but even knowing this he could not resist touching her. She wanted him to it seemed, and who was he to refuse.

He had not forgotten what it felt like to touch his Slayer, merely pushed the memories aside not wanting to dwell on something he knew he would never have again. It was going on six weeks now since he had last touched her after months of kissing and touching his mate. Soul or not, Angelus still wanted her and evidently she still wanted him.

He took advantage of the invitation, even if it was given by his still sleeping mate, and let his hand travel freely over her body. A cocky smile graced his lips when he witnessed her nipples harden under his touch. She moaned softly and arched her back, pressing her breast into his hand. Angelus wondered for a moment if she was feigning sleep, but even if she was he did not particularly care. If his Slayer wanted him to get her off and had to pretend to be asleep in order to feel better about it he was not going to complain exactly even if it was a little insulting.

His hand slid between her legs and he felt the evidence of her arousal through her shorts. He teased her, purposely avoiding her clit while sliding a finger between her netherlips through the shorts. He could tell from her breathing that she was waking up. She moaned softly as his hand drifted to her inner thigh, stroking the moist and sensitive skin there with his thumb. He saw her lips form a bit of a grimace as she wiggled the lower half of her body against his hand. So she wanted him inside of her. That was not exactly a repulsive order to fulfill.

"Angel," she murmured and he growled, a low warning.

He stopped his loverlike caresses despite her whimpered protest and grabbed her by the throat. "No, Lover, I'm not your precious Angel," he hissed. Her eyes opened slowly, sleepily and he felt her struggle to swallow under his vicelike grip at her throat. "He's gone, Lover, your beloved Angel is gone and I'm all you've got."

He saw her struggle to speak and loosened his hold on her throat. "I know you are," she whispered. "As sick as it is I still want to go to you when I need to talk."

"Yes, Soul Boy was good at listening to you ramble about your petty school girl problems, wasn't he?"

"It's not just the problems," she admitted and tried to turn away from him but he would not let her.

"I'm touched, Lover, you miss me? Is my Slayer lonely without me?"

"Stop it," she hissed. She tugged on her pajama top, almost violently pulling it down to cover her once again.

"Stop what?"

"Taunting me."

"But it's so fun, Buff. What's it going to take for you to stop loving me?"

"Nothing. There's nothing you can do to make me stop."

"That's so touching yet horribly pathetic and sad, Lover. What is it exactly about me you love? Do you get a perverse thrill from loving that which you hunt? Does it make you wet to have my undead hands and mouth touching and kissing you? Don't human boys do it for you? Do you get off on knowing I could change my mind and decide to kill you on a moment's notice."

"Stop it," she said again and Angelus could not help but laugh.

"It would be a lot more convincing, Lover, if you weren't turned on."

"I'm not," she said, her eyes falling closed as if her eyes were the only way he could tell she was lying.

He laughed wickedly as he placed his hand between her legs. His hand at her throat forced her to keep still so that she had to watch what he was doing. This time he pushed the cotton fabric aside and slid his finger against her opening. He did not enter her, merely ran the tip along her cleft briefly. He glanced from his fingertip, now moist from her juices, to her face. "Right," he said with a sardonic grin before placing the fingertip to his lips and licking it clean.

"I was dreaming about Angel."

"You were dreaming about me, Lover."

"I was not," she protested.

"We're the same man, Buff," he said finally releasing her throat.

"Then why do you hate me?"

He shook his head, surprised at the pointed question. "What makes you think I hate you?" She scoffed and glared at him. If looks could kill he could not help but think and chuckled softly. "I don't hate you, Lover; I just don't have use for you like Soul Boy did. Are you going to be my girlfriend and stand back while I feed?"

"No," she said on top of a sharp exhaled breath.

"I didn't think so. And I enjoy the hunt too much to give it up. Even for you, Buff."

She sighed softly. "What do you want?"

"I came to let you know I am still trying to uphold my end of our bargain. I haven't found out much, but I have the name of a doctor in LA who might be more suited to helping you during this pregnancy given one of us is not human."

"A doctor that you're referring me to? Why should I trust you?"

"I told you the other day at your Watcher's house, Buff. It's mine."

"Right. Just what the Scourge of Europe needs - a baby and his Slayer ex-girlfriend in the picture to remind him of one hundred years of his existence he would rather forget."

He would never forget her, was not sure he would even want to forget her. He had lived twenty-six years as a human and two hundred forty-one as a vampire, which combined meant he had existed for almost two hundred seventy years and there were few things he cared about remembering. He no longer remembered what his mother or father looked like. He barely remembered what the countryside of his homeland looked like two hundred forty years ago beyond the fact it was far greener and less crowded. But he doubted he would ever forget this mate of his, the woman he had killed his sire for. "I don't need those things, no, but again I'm here, aren't I?"

"Yes," she whispered and Angelus could hear the reluctance in her voice.

"You're sleeping," he said simply.

"I was until you woke me up."

"What can I say? Creature of the night and all."

"But yes, I've been able to sleep the past two nights."

"And the sickness?"

"It's better, not gone but better."

He ran a fingertip along her jaw. "Good," he said simply his eyes meeting hers. He knew he was betraying himself just then, revealing to her his sincerity and a side to him he had hoped to keep hidden. "I should let you get back to sleep."

"Well, I'm awake now."

His mouth lifted into a cocky grin. "And what did you have in mind, Lover?"

"Forget it," she whispered with a shake of her head.

"Horny, Lover? It's okay to admit it, I've learned while researching your current condition that it happens to women." She looked away from him and he laughed. "For a woman who just lifted up her shirt, exposed herself and placed my hand on her breast you sure are being coy."

"I did not do that."

"I beg to differ with you, Lover. How do you think your shirt got up that high?"

"I don't know," she said, but her eyes said something different.

"You thought I did that?" he asked not sure why he was surprised that she had that opinion of him. He was not altogether sure why he cared and wanted her to know that he did not take advantage of her either.

"Like you haven't done worse."

"To you?" he asked.

"No, not to me," she admitted after a moment's pause.

"Stop judging me based on my past doings when I've done nothing to you directly."

"And you haven't killed a person in the past six weeks?"

"I haven't in the past week," he said with a shrug.

"Does Angelus have a conscience after all?"

"I have been able to find willing donors."

She grimaced at that statement. "Why do people do that?" she asked.

"Would you like me to show you? Or are you afraid you might like it? Afraid that if I bite you you'll crave that, too?"

"No," she said quickly.

"All right, Lover, but if you change your mind let me know."

"I don't think you should hold your breath."

"Not that holding my breath would cause me any hardship, Buff."

"Just leave me alone so I can get some sleep."

"But I thought you were already awake?"

"I don't want to talk to you anymore. You're rude and difficult and I have no idea why I thought I could talk to you."

"Oh, Lover, you wound me with such talk," he said as he stood from the bed and walked to the windowsill where he leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest and watched her. He saw the indecision in her eyes and could not resist asking, "what?"

She was silent for a long while; picking at what Angelus guessed was a loose thread on her comforter. He wondered what she was thinking so deeply about. "Don't go," she said finally, refusing to look at him. The two simple words were spoken so softly they were almost inaudible even to Angelus with his enhanced hearing.

"Are you asking me to stay, Buff?"

She nodded her head and looked at him through lowered lashes. "Yes," she whispered with a shrug. "Can you stay without killing me or being cruel to me just for the fun of kicking Buffy when she's down?"

He took a moment before responding, glancing at his clasped hands resting on his upper thighs. It would be very easy indeed to kick her when she was down as she had just said, but he also knew how difficult it was for his Slayer to ask him to stay. "Your mother?"

"What can she say? You already got me pregnant, I don't think she realizes there's any more harm to me you can do."

"All right," he said cautiously. He was not altogether sure about the wisdom in such a course of action.

"No biting, no sex."

"Well then why am I staying?"

"Because you don't hate me and because it's yours," she said simply throwing his words back in his face.

{Admit it you're afraid if you stay you'll never want to leave her again.}

He shook off Soul Boy's interruption and pushed himself off the windowsill and walked toward her bed. "Don't get used to this," he said simply as he joined her on the bed. "Any stakes hidden under the mattress?"

"I'm not going to dust you," she said as she watched him shift and adjust on her bed. Her eyes were wide with what appeared to be both curiosity and shock. He was shocked, too. Never would he have imagined himself here with her like this. He had no room for his Slayer in his life anymore, he knew that as much as he knew sunlight would kill him. Yet, Soul Boy's influence or not, he could not resist giving into her request.

"Why should I trust you?" he asked.

"Because it's yours," she said with a shrug again throwing his words back in his face. "I don't know how we're going to work this or even if we're going to work this, but I couldn't kill you knowing I'm pregnant with your baby." Her eyes closed, lashes coming into contact with her cheeks. He was tempted to touch her, to kiss her. She looked almost angelic just then, but he was too late as she was already asleep once again.

Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com