Link Here:

C Box:

Author's Note: All of you have probably been wondering how long it would take the Scoobies from Willow seeing Buffy's Bio on the A.I website, to arrive in LA. Well now is the time. There is a lovely opening B/A scene, and Buffy does get a chance to celebrate her birthday. Enjoy.


Angel's arms came around her from behind, pressing her flush against him. He bent his head and dealt a kiss to her neck, before whispering in her ear, "Happy...."

"Don't," she interrupted him. "Don't even say the word. I don't want to mark the occasion, let mention the word."

"That puts a spanner in the plans I have laid out for today," Angel remarked. He tilted his head and dealt another kiss to her neck, this time on the scar his fangs had once given her. "Guess I'll just have to send all the presents back too."

"Plans? Presents?" Buffy echoed. She turned round in his arms, shaking her head, glancing at him pleadingly. "No, no, no. No sending back of presents."

"Since when could I refuse you anything?" He countered rhetorically, before leaning forward to kiss her lips.

It was meant to be a short indulgence, but when she was clothed in only one of his shirts, he found her irresistible, as she had learned recently. His hands slipped from her waist to where the limits of this article of clothing lay around her thighs, and began to slide them under it. She adjusted her body to let them have access to her sex, her own hands wrapping themselves around his neck for support.

Gently he caressed her thighs before parting them to slip his hands in between. He nursed her sex the few final steps into full arousal, then snaked around the back to grab them by the underside. He lifted her up, wrapping them around him, smiling as he felt her gasp make its way through their kiss, as she realised he was still naked. He clasped her butt, pressing her sex against the hilt of his own, which stretched like a flower towards the sun.

He made a move to return them to their bed, but she clasped the underside of his knees with the lower part of her legs, her slayer strength denying him the move. He broke from her lips to take in a much needed breath and then asked her, his voice raw with need, "where?"

"The wall," she commanded, her voice just as raw.

"Buffy, the Hyperion's a listed building, I'm not sure...." he trailed off as one of hands suddenly uncurled itself from his neck, and stretched down to clasp the head of his sex, making him growl, a trait he had not lost despite gaining his humanity.

"It's stood since the nineteen-twenties, had a demon infest it and a girl with psychic abilities try and wreck it," she reminded him. "I think it can take us."

His resistance all but surrendered since she had begun touching him, Angel obliged her and guided them to the nearest stretch of wall in their bedroom. Her hand continued to caress him, while his own moved from her ass to the edges of the shirt, which she hadn't buttoned, parting it to fondle her breasts.

She let go of his sex and put her arms back around his neck again, grinding herself against him, until he could stand the tension no longer. He slid inside her with a sigh of satisfaction, and moved his mouth away from hers. Fixing it on the scar he had given her nearly three years ago, he sucked the healed skin while their bodies danced the ancient rhythm until their needs were sated.

Afterwards he withdrew from the hickey he had now given her scar and leaned his head against the end of her neck where the bones of her rib cage met, regaining his breath. Its warmth caressed her skin, making her sigh.

When he had recovered, he withdrew from her and swept her into his arms, carrying her back to their bed. Laying her on the sheets, he smoothed a strand of hair away from her lightly sweating brow, before rising up.

Buffy rested her head on one palm, watching as he moved about the room. "Angel, what are you looking for?"

"A spare sketch book," he answered, just as his hands lighted upon such an object. He grabbed one of the armchairs from its place by the small coffee table before the balcony, and sat down, flicking through the book until he found a blank sheet.

"How do you want me?" Buffy queried, stretching out to face him, her free hand parting the shirt she still wore to reveal her breasts and sex, then resting it on her side. Since their reunion he had often drawn her, and his mastery of the art had always astonished her, particularly when it came to the rather erotic sketching of them joined by flesh, catching her look of bliss perfectly, along with his awed expression.

"Like that," he replied, doing his best to ignore the desire within him to abandon the sketch book and make love to her again. When she looked at him like that he was unable to refuse her anything.

Fortunately, he was also still endowed with the speed of his once vampire possession, and the sketch of his beloved was finished barely half an hour from when he had first put pencil to paper.

When he had laid it aside, Buffy moved forward and took the book from him, gazing at herself with a critical eye.

"I draw you as you are," he reminded her as he joined her on the bed. "Beautiful."

Buffy said nothing to this, choosing instead to look at the other pieces before this latest one. She blushed as she encountered some of the sketches, even though she had seen them before. Several pieces of the two of them together, and one with her wearing nothing but a cross and claddagh ring, her legs open to display her sex, moist with arousal, which he had kissed her to before drawing her.

Angel watched her gazing self-consciously at the drawings, and his hands immediately sought to distract her, reaching out to her breasts. He gently fondled them, circling her nipples with the tips of his fingers.

Sighing in pleasure, Buffy put the sketch book on the floor, and lay back on the bed, allowing him to loom over her, as he continued to worship her body. His lips soon replaced his fingers, and she arched her back, her hands pressing his head against her.

He rose up to meet her lips and kissed her thoroughly, pressing himself against her, showing her exactly how much wanted her again, so soon.

Buffy took the opportunity to assert herself, and with slayer dexterity flipped them, rising up to sit just before his manhood. Her hands ran down the planes of his smooth chest, then closed around his sex, making him uttered a sound halfway between a growl and a moan. She smiled, pleased at how much she knew him already, and the level of power she had over him, just by one touch. She caressed him expertly, running her fingers up and down, drifting occasionally to his balls, then back to his sex. She delved a finger inside, then rose up on her knees and put the same finger, moist with his arousal, inside her own sex, watching his expression.

"Buffy," he growled, almost shaking with need.

She smiled and shifted her body, placing herself just on the head of his manhood, circling it gently, swaying her hips.

Abruptly Angel grabbed her hands and pulled down, impaling her fully, making her gasp in surprise. He let go of wrists to clasp her butt, guiding her into the dance he desired, letting her hands free to roam over his body.

Buffy ground herself against him, squeezing him inside her, while her hands reached out over his chest and fingered his nipples. She felt one his hand leave her butt, delving in between where they were joined to find her G spot. As he pressed it hard, she heard herself scream his name and come, his own joining her a moment later.

Exhausted and sated she collapsed on top of him, shrugging off the now damp shirt to lie bare flesh to bare flesh. His arms wrapped themselves loosely around her and their eyes closed, letting them fall asleep until the evening.


By the time they had emerged from their suite and were descending the stairs to the ground floor lobby of the Hyperion, the anticipation of waiting to spring the surprise had faded away into mild impatience. Banners hung expectantly, streamers lay scattered on the floor, the delay having impeded their ability to remain afloat.

The slayer took it all in, her expression forming a smile of bemusement as she took in the expressions of Wesley, Gunn, Fred and Cordelia, along with the almost childlike innocence coming from the Groosalug, who was still coming to understand the earthly custom of surprise parties on the day one was born.

"No speaking of the B word," Buffy warned them as she stepped from the last stair to the floor of the lobby. "When it comes to me, there's usually a curse attached to it."

"What happened with the two we missed?" Cordelia asked

"Giles got turned into a demon as I met the leaders of the Initiative, and for my twentieth my mother was dying, and my little sister key decided to slash her wrists, while in danger from a god," Buffy replied, a slight bitterness in her tone at the freshly healed wounds caused by these memories.

"Well, Angel has charged us to do all within our power to make this one perfect," Wesley informed her, as he handed her a brightly wrapped box.

"I see some of us were over-enthusiastic with the tape again," Buffy commented jokingly before unwrapping her first present. She gasped as the paper revealed an intricately craved, semiprecious jewel adorned book, which had the dual quality of looking ancient and new at the same time.

"Its a collection of summaries on the life of every slayer," Wesley explained as the latest to that sacred cause opened the work to examine it more closely. "Giles and I put it together."

"Thank you, its magnificent," Buffy remarked, before drawing him into an unexpected hug which left him blushing.

"Not that this will top that, but here's mine," Gunn said, handing her a slightly thinner and smaller wrapped box.

Buffy laid the book down reverently, then opened her next present. The paper parted to reveal a box, which when she had lifted off the lid, revealed two tickets and a couple of backstage passes. "How on earth did you get these?" She asked, awed.

"Its LA, and I have a few contacts," Gunn shrugged. "I know its your favourite show, so I pulled a few strings."

"Thank you," Buffy said, hugging him too. She stepped back to encounter Fred standing next to him, who shyly handed her another box. Buffy smiled at her, then tore off the paper and pressed in the lock on the little velvet casket which the wrapping had concealed. Inside was a silver chain, with a beautifully carved cross, stake and bottle of holy water, moulded from the same metal. "This is amazing, did you do this yourself?" She asked the physicist, who nodded shyly. "Thank you," Buffy added, before hugging her as well.

Cordelia's gift was next. "Its from me and Groo," she added, making her recently returned beau smile with gratitude at including him in this strange but fun custom.

Buffy opened the last present and blushed as she read the title of the book. "I thought Angel and I doing this," she gestured at the book, " disgusted you. And you'd want one of these for yourself."

"I did buy two, and hey, its making you both happy, so its fine by me," Cordelia smiled. "The two of you deserve some heaven."

"Well, thank you," Buffy said before hugging them. She parted and flicked through the book, opening it at random. "Hey, that looks interesting," she remarked, causing the seer to glance over the page as well. "I'll have to try that."

"Seconded," Cordelia replied, before taking her hand and steering her over to the reception desk, where a cake and snack food had been laid out. "Speaking of which I kinda need to ask your advice."

"What about?" Buffy queried as she selected a few choice morsels.

"When I was in Pylea, they, the monks, said that sex with the Groosalug would transfer my visions to him," Cordelia began in a lowered tone of voice.

"And you're worried that's still true?" Buffy guessed.


"How did Doyle give you the visions?"

"He kissed me."

"I think," Buffy began after some thought, "that its all to do with intent. I mean, if you intend to give your visions, then they're given. They're a gift, which means something that can only be given away, not taken, by force or act."

"I hadn't thought of it like that," Cordelia said, nodding slowly at the possible truth her friend had offered. "I'll guess I should find out."

"You two need a vacation," Buffy mused.

"We all do," Cordelia pointed out.

"Yeah, but you guys have had it rough this year. And he's a visitor from another world. He needs time to become accustomed to this one. And you two need the same for each other, your relationship."

"Yeah, but can we be spared?"

"Angel and me were discussing this earlier, and we think you can." Buffy paused. "Use some money from the safe, and go."

"We will, thank you. Tomorrow," Cordelia smiled as she thought of what Angel had in store for the slayer this night that cautioned her against setting off immediately.

"Angel, its nearly six-thirty," Wesley remarked then, causing everyone to stop what they were doing.

Angel swept Buffy into his arms, and waltzed her to the foot of the stairs. "We have dinner reservations at seven," he revealed to her.

"Where?" Buffy asked him. He leaned forward and whispered the restaurant name in her ear, causing her to gasp, and then dash upstairs to find her most classy dress.

Angel watched her go before moving to his office to change into his tux which he had stored their earlier, trying not to feel nervous about his plans for the rest of the evening.


Half an hour later, Cordelia was the only one left in the old hotel, Fred, Wesley and Gunn having been called to a demon slaying minutes after the chosen warriors had left for dinner. She was sorting through the belongings that she left at the Hyperion, spare changes of clothes in case of slimy demons, working out what would be suitable for her vacation with Groo. Wes had completely agreed with Angel and Buffy, and had given her a generous amount of cash from the funds they had salvaged from the Nahdrah demons they had dealt with awhile back.

She was just about to pick up the phone and dial in her booking, when the front doors swung open and a large troupe of people wandered in.

"Angel Investigations," Cordelia called out, before jumping over the reception desk to see who the arrivals were. When she caught sight of them, a grim frown formed upon her face, and she folded her arms in a defensive stance. "What do you lot want?"

"Where's Buffy?" Willow asked.

Cordelia looked at the assembled Scooby Gang, taking in all their expressions. She held back her surprise at seeing Spike with the group, then met the sad resignation and apologetic look coming from Giles.

"Cordy, who are these people?" Groo questioned as he emerged from Wesley's office. The seer turned round to meet him and caught him in her arms before replying. "They're old acquaintances," she answered, before dropping her voice to a whisper. "Go back in there and call Wes. Get them to return at once."

When he had gone back into the office, Cordelia turned round to face them. "Where's Buffy?" She echoed. "Six feet under a Sunnyhell graveyard, last I heard."

Willow held up a piece of paper in response to this bluff, and the sight of it caused Cordelia to silently groan. She had told the others from the start that the website was a bad idea. She took in the print out of Buffy's profile as a member of Angel Investigations.

"I'm sorry, Cordelia," Giles began suddenly, startling them all, "there was nothing I could do prevent them."

Xander turned to him in shock. "You knew about this?"

"Yes, he does," Cordelia replied. "And yeah, Buffy's alive, but she's not here at the moment. But I know what her reaction will be. She doesn't want to see any of you."

"Of course she does," Willow replied. "We're her friends."

"Friends?" Cordelia scoffed. "You guys give a whole new meaning to the word. You don't trust her, you constantly pressure her and expect her to save your asses as well as the world on a daily basis. And to top it all off, when she dies you decide you can't deal without her and bring her back from the dead."

"She was in a hell dimension," Xander argued.

"Was she?" Cordelia countered. "Did you think to find out for sure? Did you even contemplate what such an ordeal would do to her? Force her to experience what her prey undergo when they return from the dead. Awake in a coffin, buried six feet underground. Having to use her slayer strength to punch a hole in said casket, then in the earth, and crawl out of the hole. A glance at the gravestone, revealing her death. We had to take her to the most powerful witches in the world to cleanse her of the experience and black magic you used to bring her back." Cordelia paused to glance at them and see if any of this was getting through. "She still has nightmares about it. "

The doors of the Hyperion swung open again at that moment, causing the seer to pause as the head and two other members of Angel Investigations returned to their headquarters.

Wesley Wyndam-Pryce was grim-faced as he took in the assembled group. He motioned with his eyes to Gunn, who stepped back and took out his cell, calling Angel to apprise him and his soulmate of the situation that awaited their return.

"Buffy is needed on the hellmouth," Willow began, shook up by Cordelia's story, but undeterred. "And we miss her."

"Well she doesn't miss you," Wesley replied harshly to them all. "Not even the girl who was forced upon by monks to be protected and cared for. All those implanted memories left her the day she died."

Dawn sniffed and ran, exiting into the courtyard. Willow turned on Wesley angrily. "That was too harsh."

"It was the truth though," Cordelia remarked. "None of you have given a thought to how Buffy feels about this. None of you have given her a thought since...... I can't remember when. You all took it for granted that she could deal with death because she's died once before. That she could move on from the love of her life, knowing that one moment of happiness between them costs him his soul. That she could deal with Angelus in his body, knowing if she kills him, as all of you were urging her to do, it would mean death to any chance of getting her soulmate back. That she could cope with having to send him to hell, when nobody informed her that you were trying to recurse him. That she could deal with him leaving for her supposed own good, that she could do college, the Initiative and slaying. That she could accept implanted memories, her mother dying, and yet another boyfriend betraying her and then leaving her. Everytime one of you messes up, you expect her to jump in and save the day. None of you are capable enough to figure out what to do yourselves. Did you ever stop to think that she might come to look on death as a release? Or that this was the Powers That Be had planned for her? That she might be in heaven rather than hell?"


The restaurant glowed in candlelight, the lit wicks revealing a soft fire rising from modern lighter fuel and stones, in a concrete bowl surround by a slim-line hearth. Their table was to the left of this feature, in the corner, adorned with sumptuous white table cloths and napkins. Oil dipped bread with mesquite sauce rested on a centre plate, while their chosen main courses of roasted duck in a plum sauce and medium rare venison lay before them, with side portions of potato and vegetable.

Angel had been unable to take his eyes off his beloved from the moment he had first caught sight of her coming down the stairs in the Hyperion. She was wearing a deep scarlet full length dress, with a dangerously low back and front; the former ending just above her pant-line, the latter forming a narrow triangle just above her navel. The folds of silk covered her cleavage enough to render the dress elegant rather than trashy, while her hair, long at his request, fell down in blond curls that turned gold in the candlelight. At her neck was the first of his birthday gifts to her; something he had presented her with while the chauffeur drove their rented limousine to the restaurant. A platinum necklace of drop rubies, with earrings to match. Every facet of their cuts spoke of mysterious depths that he longed and planned to explore in the suite he had booked tonight away from the Hyperion.

First course had consisted of lobster meat in a light sauce with salad and the bread that they had requested to be left in the middle of their table through the rest of the meal. Together they had laughed at each other's attempt to feed each other, Angel snatching kisses on her bare wrists each time she offered him another morsel.

Main meals had just come to be placed before them when Gunn's phone call disturbed the romance of the evening. Buffy had watched Angel with increasing anxiousness as he listened to what Gunn had to say, his face grim.

Now she reached out and clutched at his hand while his other, the call now finished, put the cellphone back in his jacket pocket. "What's up?"

"Sunnyhell saw your website bio before we removed it," Angel informed her grimly. "The entire gang, Spike and Dawn included, have turned up at HQ."

"And they want to see me," Buffy concluded sadly. A part of her was not surprised, she had expected this day might come sooner or later. And on her birthday after all, was nothing more than usual.

"What do you want to do?" Angel asked her. "I can cancel the suite," he added, letting her know he didn't mind either way.

"No," she decided immediately, "I'm not letting them upset this birthday. We'll stay the night. Hopefully the guys can deal with them."

"According to Gunn, Cordelia was giving them a lecture they're not likely to forget," Angel revealed, before taking out his phone once more. "I'll call the public line, make it look like a client, and tell them our plans."


"How could she look on death as a release?" Xander queried. "You have no idea of what her life, our lives have been since you all upped and left."

"I have more idea than the rest of you," Cordelia countered. "Buffy told us everything that happened, and trust me, her perspective ain't pretty. Its a wonder she didn't kill herself. A lesser mortal might of done. She has to be stronger than the rest of you. Not just physically, but mentally too. She has to lead, to rely on only herself, because none of you can be trusted to sort things out on your own. Nearly six years you lived on the hellmouth, and still not one of you have the first idea about what not to do with it."

The phone rang then, causing all to jump and a strange silence to rest upon the lobby as Fred went to answer it.

"Angel Investigations," she said. She listened for a few seconds, then handed it over to Wesley. "It's Shanshu," she remarked.

Wesley nodded, understanding the code immediately. "I'll take it in the office," he said, before heading to the room.

Inside he picked up the receiver. "Angel, I'm alone, you and I can speak freely," he said into it.

"We're spending the night as planned," Angel remarked. "Can you guys cope with the Scoobies until the morning?"

"I think so," Wes replied. "You make sure Buffy enjoys herself, she's more than deserved it, judging by what little Cordelia's allowed Willow and Xander to say. And there's more to come, neither of us are done yet."

"Thank you, Wes."

"Don't mention it," Wesley replied before finishing the call. Steeling himself, he walked out of the office and back into the fray.

"That was Angel," he informed the group at large. "He and Buffy won't be back until the morning, so I suggest you all sort out which rooms you'll be taking for the night. First time the hotel's been occupied by so many since the twenties, so some of the rooms might not be up to much. I'm afraid we don't do room service, but the nearest eatery is just down the block from here. Oh and have any of you remembered what today is? Buffy's twenty-first birthday. You think you still care about her? I think all of you are too selfish to do so."

"Fortunately none of you have wrecked this birthday just yet," Cordelia remarked. "Angel's determined that this one does not turn out like the rest of her birthdays have done, as I'm sure you all remember."

"What right have you guys to judge and condemn us?" Willow asked. "In case you haven't noticed, we've been dealing with the hellmouth and latest big bad very well without a slayer. Its Buffy we want back."

"The latest big bad?" Cordelia echoed. "That would be Jonathon, Andrew and Warren, right? I hardly think three humans compares to the god Buffy had to defeat last time. And did you even think to wonder if Buffy wanted to come back to Sunnydale? The minute she rose out of her grave, the hellmouth was the last place she wanted to be. And what right have we to condemn you? We've been supporting her ever since Angel found her by her grave. Since he brought her here to be rid of the black magic your spell put inside her. Do you know that the only reason she's grateful to you for bringing her back is because it has given her and Angel a second chance? He's human warrior now, like her, thanks to the Charmed Ones. When Giles learnt of all this, he was just as shocked we were. And fully on Buffy's side, once she had explained everything to him. He's helped us protect her from you lot finding out, and I'm sorry you have done. I knew we shouldn't have done that website, but I did hope that you lot would be too consumed by your own problems to bother surfing the net." Cordelia paused to turn to Spike. "And what are you doing here?"

"Just wanted to witness the fun," Spike replied with a grin. "And apologise to my grandsire for torturing him the last time we met up. And to assure him that I did what I could to protect his soulmate, and support her through the last year. I'm no part of their little attempt at self-righteous anger."

"Thank you, Spike," Wesley remarked. "Buffy told us of all you did to help her, and she and Angel are grateful. Now, its late, so I suggest we all retire. And pray you lot will be in a better frame of mind to deal with this tomorrow morning."

With that he walked off, heading into reception. Calmly he sorted out keys to the habitable rooms and laid them out on the reception desk. He took one himself, planning on keeping watch while the rest of his colleagues sought other places.

Cordelia took Groo and left for her apartment, followed by Gunn and Fred, who left for his place.

The Scooby gang took a key each and walked silently up to their rooms. Spike walked outside and retrieved Dawn before following them.

Wesley and Giles were soon left alone in the lobby. The former delved beneath the reception desk and drew out a bottle of whiskey with two snifters.

"Thank you," Giles uttered as he drank in the golden brown liquid. "I needed that," he confessed, draining the glass in one go.

"How was the journey here?" Wes asked as he poured him another one.

"Hell," Giles replied. "Once they had seen the website, I could do nothing to stop them. They were at her grave digging up the empty coffin before I could say stop. In the end I just submitted, waiting to see what support I could offer." He took another drink. "How's Buffy taking this?"

"As well as can be expected, according to Angel," Wesley replied. "We better retire," he remarked, glancing at the clock and noting the late hour. "Shore up for the morning."

"Here's hoping it turns out better than tonight," Giles toasted before they separated, each retiring to a room, their minds consumed in silent prayer at what tomorrow would bring.

To Be Continued In