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wherethedeadneversleep · 7 days ago

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And So We Meet & Revelations

Michael's power grew stronger every day, but he was also biding his time. It was all about finding Dean and securing his place. His true vessel had nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide. He could fight and deny all he wanted, but in the end, he would simply give in, and say "yes" to him. Michael always won in the end, because fate was always inevitable.

But what was a surprise to the archangel was Dean's choice of company: a bewitching vampire slayer known as Buffy Summers. From the moment he seeped into Dean's consciousness, and peered through his eyes, he saw the little blonde human for himself. She was a petite thing with a smart mouth, but a fiery, passionate personality that easily kept up with Dean's temperament.

She was a fighter like Dean. Like him, she was destined to protect humanity, and she sacrificed so much if only to gain so little in return. Yet she continued - or rather, continues - to do so, even if it meant being left alone to fight her battles.

Michael found himself drawn to her. Though she was human, he couldn't help but be fascinated with her, and not just because she was with his vessel (though, the idea of taking what belonged to him highly amused him to no end). The blood of the demon flowed through her, but even that fact didn't disgust him... for once. She was an anomaly he wanted to explore with his own hands.

This time around, he chose not to pester Dean. Rather, he would give Buffy a visit. Through the vastness of space-time, he traveled, until he arrived at his destination. Dark clouds sifted, and stars faded in the process. No matter what, his vessel couldn't interfere with his one-on-one with Buffy in her dreams.

"And so we meet," Michael spoke to the blonde as he appeared from behind. It mattered not what scenario was going on in Buffy's dream. He shattered through the environment effortlessly, and as calm as one could be: a tall, dark-haired individual with bright, glowing eyes, and smoldering good looks that could land him on the cover of a magazine.

"Dean's had a lot to say about me, I'm sure."

As Buffy drifted off into a deep sleep, she found herself walking in a graveyard. The moon cast an eerie glow over the tombstones, creating long shadows that danced in the night. The air was heavy with an otherworldly stillness as if the spirits of the departed were holding their breath.

Buffy's senses heightened as she cautiously made her way through the maze of graves. She could feel a subtle chill in the air, sending shivers down her spine. Her Slayer instincts told her that something was amiss, that danger lurked in every corner of this haunting place. Every creaking branch and rustling leaf seemed to echo in her ears, amplifying her unease. The darkness seemed to consume everything around her, making it difficult to distinguish much of anything. Every step she took felt like a leap into the unknown, her senses on high alert, ready to react at the slightest sign of danger.

She couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched, as if unseen eyes were following her every move. Despite her years of training as a vampire slayer, this particular night felt different. As she walked down the dimly lit alley behind the graveyard, she tightened her grip on her trusted stake, ready to face whatever awaited her in the darkness. The eerie silence only heightened her senses, making her acutely aware of every sound and movement around her.

Just then the sky above her head was engulfed by rolling dark clouds, causing the stars to vanish. The only source of light she had was the faint glow of the moon peeking through the clouds.

Buffy was rarely taken off guard but the voice that came from behind her does just that. It's not one she recognizes, it's deep and mysterious. Buffy's instincts kick in immediately, her body tensing as she swiftly turns around to face the source of the voice. As her gaze settles on a figure, a stranger stands tall and imposing, cloaked in an air of enigma. His deep voice resonates with an otherworldly quality. A flicker of curiosity replaces her initial surprise at the words he speaks. " So you're the one that's been following me all night. What was your plan to just walk behind me to death? " Admittedly he was he was strikingly good-looking, tall with dark hair, sharp cheekbones, and piercing eyes. Was it just a thing for all the good looking guys to be stalkery psychos?

Buffy's eyes narrowed as the next words he uttered were Dean's name. After uttering those words, there was no doubt in her mind that this could only be one person ─ The Archangel Michael. " Oh God " For a moment she felt her heart sink inside her chest. Buffy's mind raced as she tried to process the implications of Michael's presence. She couldn't believe that Michael was standing right in front of her. The weight of his presence was overwhelming, and Buffy's mind was filled with a mix of awe and fear. She had heard stories of his immense power and divine purpose, but never did she imagine that she would come face to face with him. As her thoughts raced, she couldn't help but wonder why he had chosen to reveal himself to her. No matter what she couldn't let him shake her.

" So this is your grand plan to make Dean say yes to you, going after someone he cares about? That plan is overrated and has been used way too many times. I thought someone like yourself could have come up with something more original. "

Michael couldn’t help but smile condescendingly at Buffy’s remarks.

“No matter how many times the Bible’s been written, re-written, and RE-WRITTEN,” he said, “I’ll give them this matter-of-fact statement about originality from Ecclesiastes 1:9 - ‘What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun.’ Or, I like the quicker version: ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.’”

He eyed the graveyard that consisted of Buffy’s dreamscape. It was a constant reminder of her destiny. Dean had the same reminders – nightmares – when he slept. No wonder these two were bonded. The horrors they faced when they were awake followed their every waking and sleeping moment.

Michael took one step forward and vanished – only to appear right behind Buffy, and was practically against her backside.

“Turn around to do anything, and I promise you that I will obliterate the place you and Dean are staying in, along with the occupants that are inside of it,” the archangel warned. The child that stayed with them would never have her chance at revenge if the beautiful slayer made one false move against him.

Michael stepped to the side of Buffy, where his lips brushed alongside her ear. In a hush voice, and with his hand upon her shoulder, he said, “I do see why Dean likes you, though. You have a spark about you. Smart mouth. Spirit. Even against the likes of me. You want to fight me. I can see it in your eyes. Even in your thoughts. I know what you’re thinking. You’re going to keep challenging me, even if you’re scared. That’s why I like you. I shouldn’t, though. The thing of it is, I don’t care for humans. My brother, Lucifer? He hates them. He really, truly hates them. Which is why we’re in this predicament right now. That monster needs to be punished for defying our father, and as his older brother, it is my duty to do so.”

Being this close to this human, Dean’s human, Michael couldn’t resist using his finger to stroke the side of her cheek. Her skin was soft as silk. He couldn’t remember the last time he allowed himself to be indulged like this. Attachments weren't his "thing," yet he was slowly but surely becoming fond of this woman.

Michael stepped away from the blonde slayer and informed her, “Don’t worry, when the population of humans declines sharply, I’ll make sure you are spared.”

As Buffy stood there, her eyes widened in disbelief. Was Michael actually reciting scripture to her?

Michael disappeared before she had the opportunity to utter a word, only to reemerge positioned directly behind her. Her chest hitched as she felt his body pressed tightly against hers. She could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck, sending shivers down her spine. The sudden proximity made her heart race, and she struggled to find her voice. His presence was both exhilarating and unnerving, leaving her unsure of what to expect next. But that was soon answered when he gave his bone chilling warning. She knew she had to stay vigilant, prepared for whatever might come next. As much as she wanted to turn around and face him she remained where she stood.

The Slayer's eyes closed feeling Michael's lips against her ear. How was he making her feel this way? She couldn't deny the attraction she felt towards him, even though her instincts screamed at her that this was wrong on so many levels. Buffy's heart raced as Michael's words sank in. She had always prided herself on her strength and resilience, but this unexpected connection with him was stirring emotions she hadn't anticipated.

She knows that if he succeeds in his malevolent mission, countless innocent lives will be lost forever. No matter what threat the indiscriminate destruction of countless innocent lives is never an acceptable solution. That's when the gears inside her head begin turning. Her eyes narrow as he steps away from her and states how he'll have her spared.

Buffy's hands clench tightly by her hips, and in that moment, she comprehends the error he committed. Michael had issued a menacing promise to annihilate not only her but also Dean. Michael had an unfathomable way of tormenting Dean, but he had no intention of ending his life. To have the ultimate confrontation with his brother, he required Dean's vessel to remain alive. The second mistake he made was declaring his intention to do it in their shared location. If she was present with Michael, she couldn't simultaneously be with Dean ─ unless she was dreaming.

She made her move, her fists still tightly clenched. Advancing towards him, she pulled back and landed a powerful punch directly on Michael's face not even realizing she had most likely broken a few fingers on that hand.

" Bet you didn't see that coming. You want to recite scripture to me? You and Lucifer both need to get over your Daddy issues. You want to do what God tells you to do by fighting your brother and killing thousands of innocent people in the process. Don't you find that rather odd when he also told you to love humans more than you love him? News flash Michael, you can't do both at the same time. Neither of you care about humans so straight out of the races you're both already defying your father. Have you ever once stopped to think maybe for his own twisted amusement he's testing the two of you? " She was beyond angry and she wouldn't hold back.

" Your second mistake is threatening the people I care about. You say you'll make sure I'm spared but know this, it's my ' duty ' to protect these people and I'll go down doing just that ─ Vampires, Demons, Werewolves, Angels, it doesn't matter to me. If you're a threat to humanity you're gonna have me standing in your way. So stop trying to seduce me with your Angelic charms. "

Michael’s nose broke, and his head snapped back, but he made an instant recovery, due to his healing abilities. Nasal cartilage and bones were instantly repaired, and Michael faced forward once more. He had to commend Buffy on her reaction. Even with his threats, she still took a chance to attack. What would Dean say in this situation? “She had balls of steel.”

“I ‘tolerate’ humans, but don’t forget my father sacrificed humans many times over the centuries,” Michael reminded her. “It was out of necessity, and yet they still loved and devoted their lives to him. I still remain faithful and duty-bound to him. I can do away with as many humans as I see fit because more will be born. It’s Lucifer who is rather gung-ho about killing them like sheep in a slaughterhouse. But don’t misunderstand me, Miss Summers. I do love my brother, but he needs to be punished for misbehaving. He’s been a bad, bad boy.”

The archangel disappeared once more, only to appear a few feet away. This time, he was crouched on top of a headstone that read “Buffy Anne Summers.” It had her birth year and death date, along with an epithet that read, “SHE SAVED THE WORLD A LOT.”

He didn’t appreciate her playing armchair therapist about his family. With anyone else who spoke to him so openly, he would have destroyed them without a second thought. Yet, she still remained alive and still dreaming. Why? Was he simply amusing himself by allowing her to win this confrontation on her own turf?

“You like it when I seduce you, don’t you?” he asked, putting on a charming face for her, even as the dark thoughts continued to swim in his head. “You wouldn’t mind if I brushed up against you again? I bet Dean would have a problem with it. He hates the fact that we’d have shared custody of you when I take over. He’s the jealous type, and he hates sharing.”

It was his destiny to fight Lucifer. Nothing and nobody would put a stop to that. Yet after sifting through Buffy’s memories, it surprised him to learn how often she too had been betrayed and abandoned. All he wanted to do was be a loyal son to God. All Buffy wanted to do was be a fighter for humanity, and to be a good friend.

Michael’s eyes softened just a bit. Huh. Well, interesting. Maybe they had a few things in common after all.

Buffy's mind raced as she tried to make sense of the situation. She clenched her hand, feeling the throbbing ache intensify with each passing moment. The sharp sting of pain was too vivid, too tangible to be a mere figment of her imagination. She desperately searched for any signs that would confirm this was all just an illusion. Pinching herself, she hoped for that familiar jolt of disbelief that would wake her from this dream. But there was no waking up.

" Why can't you and your brother deal with this on your own without hurting innocent people? There are still good people out there who deserve a chance to live their lives. I don't know where you've been for the past decade or so but Lucifer doesn't want to destroy this planet. He might still have a distaste for humans but he's not out there killing them. " She wished there was something she could say or do to change his mind, to talk him out of this upcoming apocalypse. " If you really loved your brother you would want to help him not punish him and cause him pain. If god wants him punished why have you do it instead of him being a parent and doing it himself? " Why couldn't she make him understand this? It honestly hurts her knowing any parent would pit their children against each other.

Suddenly Michael disappeared once more, causing her to search the graveyard with her eyes and ears. Eventually, she found him perched atop the very same headstone that had emitted an uncommon energy just before he materialized. Buffy's heart sank in her chest as she approached. It was her grave from Sunnydale, a haunting reminder of the trauma she had endured. The mere sight of it brought back the night she was torn from heaven and forced to claw her way out of that very burial site. Was this his way of trying to scare her? He should know she had no fear of death if it meant she was able to save the people she cared for. Was this his attempt at instilling fear in her? He ought to know she had no fear of death when it came to protecting the ones she loved.

Her eyes narrowed as she observed Michael's charming facade. " Michael... " Buffy said firmly, her voice laced with both caution and defiance. " You seem to misunderstand the situation entirely. Dean and I have a partnership built on trust and respect. There is no 'shared custody' when it comes to me. " She took a step back, creating some distance between them, her body language reflecting her growing discomfort. She purposefully disregarded his questions, for the reality was that she did enjoy it and it was unjust that he had the ability to delve into her thoughts and perceive that. Why her body reacted to him the way it did she was unsure of but she refused to succumb to it or him. Despite her determination to resist, his presence continued to affect her in ways she couldn't fully comprehend. It was as if he held power over her, effortlessly unraveling the layers of her emotions. The more she tried to push him away, the stronger her desire for him grew, creating an internal conflict she couldn't escape. Yet, she remained steadfast in her decision not to let him break down her defenses, determined to protect herself from the vulnerability he seemed to effortlessly expose.

Unexpectedly, a transformation occurred in his eyes, a softening that diminished his previous anger and condescension. While that grave still caused her great discomfort she moved forward until she was standing before Michael again. " You keep saying all these things about you and I. What exactly do you want from me, Michael? "

Michael ducked his head when Buffy questioned his father’s motives. How ironic she didn’t understand how fate worked: no matter how many choices were played out, how many alternate choices could have been made, the results would have wound up the same in the end. It was like how destiny would’ve worked out for Buffy. Her fate in becoming a slayer would have been the same in the end, regardless of what other choices she would have made, had she not moved to Sunnydale right away.

Him being on her grave stirred a surge of mixed emotions within her. She tried to defy him, but at the same time, she wasn’t completely discouraged by him, either. Truth be told, this was new territory for him. Never before had he been tempted by any human, as he saw himself too busy doing his best to be a loyal soldier and son for God to be stirred by any creature. Buffy undoubtedly fascinated and captivated him like no other being had before.

Just like the first time he’d felt her presence.

Tapping his finger on her headstone, Michael spoke once again.

“You don’t remember me,” he said to her, his eyes all-knowing, “but I clearly remember you. The day you died, and your soul went to heaven? That was when we first met. You fought the brave fight by sacrificing yourself in place of your little sister. Such a doting, responsible sibling you are. You didn’t stay long, though, did you? You were ripped away from us before you had a chance to settle down. But I never forgot about you.”

The archangel smirked, as he climbed down from the tombstone, and was now standing in front of Buffy once more. He could still recall the day her soul breached heaven. She was a pure source of energy, unlike anything he’d ever felt before.

“Now, for what I want from you?” he asked, finally getting around to answering her question. He could still feel that radiant energy that sung to him the moment she arrived in heaven. It was untapped energy he wanted to embrace and become one with. Even within the human body Buffy possessed, her very aura shined brighter than the sun itself. The more he stayed in her dream, the more prevalent her presence rapidly became for him. She challenged him in ways that didn’t annoy him, but rather, made him question himself inward.

Michael held his head high, as he brought his hand up, and cupped the side of her face.

“I’ll make it simple,” he said at long last. “What I want, is you.”

Before she could say anything else, he reached in and planted a kiss on her lips.

Buffy didn't exactly believe in fate and that there was no such thing as free will. However, recent events had started to make her question her long-held beliefs. The constant battles against supernatural forces, the unexplainable coincidences that seemed to guide her path, and the eerie way everything always seemed to fall into place had started to chip away at her skepticism.

As she delved deeper into her own introspection, Buffy began noticing patterns in her own choices and actions. She realized that even though she believed she had free will, there were moments when it felt like an invisible hand guided her decisions. Whether it was an instinctual urge or a gut feeling leading her down a particular path. But she couldn't let herself believe this to be true. Wasn't Lucifer a clear-cut example that free will exists? The war between Michael and Lucifer was meant to happen and if that was his destiny why did he fight it so hard? Why was humanity not at stake all this time he walked the earth? He simply wanted to live his life on earth alongside his family.

As Michael started talking, her eyes welled up with tears. Her insides twisted and the world around her seemed to spin. How could this not be the first time she had met Michael? She tried to compose herself, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over. She could recall the immense confusion and agony she experienced when her friends forcefully ripped her out of Heaven. She had finally found tranquility, completion, and joy, but they had cruelly snatched it away from her. She had been consumed by the feeling that she was trapped in a living hell. The way Michael talked about not forgetting her was as if they had experienced something more than just a casual encounter in Heaven. Was he lying to her? Was he trying to play some game to twist her mind up? How could she know for sure? Everything around her started spinning more.

" You're lying. "

As Michael descended from the top of her tombstone, a chilling sensation enveloped her, rendering her immobile despite her desire to move. She could feel the coldness seeping into her bones, causing a shiver to run down her spine. The air around her seemed to grow heavy. Buffy's heart raced, her instincts urging her to flee, but an inexplicable force held her in place. The more time she spent in his presence, the more difficult it grew for her to fight against him – even more so after what he had just revealed to her.

She wanted to pull away from his touch but she felt her head melting against his palm. Her eyes closed as she heard him speak the answer to her initial question. Michael's touch was tender yet filled with an undeniable passion. The weight of his words lingered in the air, leaving her breathless and unsure of how to respond. But before she could even think of doing so his lips were upon hers. As their lips met, a surge of electricity coursed through her veins. The memories of her and him started flashing back to her, gradually seeping back in one by one. As their kiss deepened, her arms wrapped around his shoulder, finger grasping in the back of his hair. She could feel the passion building, threatening to consume her completely.

The desires that spread throughout his body surprised him in the best way possible. It was unlike anything he could have possibly imagined. More than ever, he didn’t want to let her go. Just like when her soul reached heaven, he wanted to keep her there. He refused to release her. They were here now. For the first time, he wanted to be selfish and to keep something for himself for once.

His hands fell to her waist as they continued kissing. The air grew warm – in fact, he felt feverish. Impossible, seeing as how the body he inhabited shouldn’t be capable of being ill, especially in a dream landscape. But part of him was losing his senses as he allowed himself to sink more into Buffy’s kisses. He, a top tier archangel, was allowing himself to show weakness to a vampire slayer. This would’ve spelled doom for anyone else, yet he was letting his guard down for one person.

Fingers lifted from her waist and wove themselves through her silky blonde hair. Lips momentarily left her mouth, only to leave trails of kisses along her jawline and neck. His thoughts became silent, as his bodily instincts took over. Again, new territory for the likes of him, who’d never allowed himself to indulge in such selfish acts. Everything he’d done before, was for God, and God only. Never before did he comprehend even thinking of doing anything to appease himself… until now.

Once again, his lips reached her ear, where he admitted in a hushed tone, “Lucifer might be onto something.”

Free will. What a concept. But would he admit that so readily to his little brother? After all, this was Buffy’s dream. Perhaps by the time the slayer woke up, she would forget all about this. Michael, too, might move on from this by the time he arrived at Earth. He couldn’t possibly believe such a relationship would work out between them. But denial now? While he was so in over his head with how far he’d gotten already?

Michael hummed as he inhaled Buffy’s scent, giving her one more kiss on the lips, before standing tall before her. His fingertips danced through her hairline and trailed across her cheeks, and down her neckline until he left her body entirely. He didn’t want to leave her, but he knew dreams only lasted for so long for humans.

“Dean’s going to throw a fit once he finds out how fond I am of you,” Michael jested, his lips curling into a slight grin. “But don’t worry, you’ll hear from me again real soon, much to the ‘delight’ of my vessel. You can pass along my visit to him if you wish. Or if you keep our get-together hush-hush, I won’t blame you. Either way, he’ll find out once I take over.”

Buffy quickly found herself caught up in the intensity of the moment. The way Michael's hands held her waist made her heart race, and she couldn't help but reciprocate his passion. As their lips moved together, a surge of desire coursed through her veins, making her forget everything else. The dream landscape around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in their own world. The air crackled with electricity, and she could feel the heat radiating from Michael's body. It was as if their connection had ignited a fire within him that burned hotter than any fever.

The kisses along her jawline and neck made her eyes flutter. She could sense the conflict within Michael ─ the battle between his devotion to God and the overwhelming pull of his own desires. Yet, she couldn't help but be drawn to him, captivated by the intensity in his eyes and the vulnerability he displayed at this moment. She knew that pursuing this connection with Michael would come with its own set of challenges and complications. The clash between their contrasting beliefs and desires seemed inevitable, like two opposing forces destined to collide. Yet, in the midst of this internal struggle, there was an undeniable chemistry between them that defied all logic and reason.

It was as if time stood still, allowing them to forget about the complexities that awaited them. Yet reality would soon come crashing back down upon them. That moment came sooner than later, at least for her when Michael stepped back from her and mentioned Dean's name. As she listened to him she couldn't figure out if she was more hurt or just pissed off.

Briefly, her eyes closed as she struggled to pull her words together. " Is that what this was all about? Just another way to hurt Dean? " Just that quickly her fists were balling together at her sides again. " I'm not some toy to be used between the two of you. " The mere idea of that had her turning her back to him.

Maybe Michael was right all along. Was every event that occurred in Heaven merely a prearrangement for this precise moment? Could it be possible that every single event, every twist and turn of fate, was leading up to this very moment? The idea that her entire existence, filled with hardships and challenges, might have solely served to appease someone's ego, surpassing even their god complex, was unbearable to her. Was there any meaning to her journey, or was it all just a cruel game? No, she would not accept that as truth.

Whipping back around to look Michael in the eyes she demanded. " I refuse to believe that. Tell me something, Michael. You talk as if all of this is some great destiny and you can't even see how much free will you actually have. We both know you could have gone after Dean directly, you didn't need me for that. The obedient son deviated from his mission for something he wanted for once in his lifetime. Unless I'm just some damn bargaining chip to you, prove it to me here and now. Because if you don't and you do somehow manage to get Dean to say yes to you I'll be the first person to tell you to go get bent. "

Had any other human spoke so boldly and defiantly to and about Michael, they would’ve been eradicated on the spot, and without hesitation. Yet Buffy’s words struck a multitude of nerves within him. Yes, he wanted something for himself. He’d done everything ever asked of him. Everything he’d ever done for God, he did so without question. Yet where was his reward? Aside from being worshiped for eons, and having great power, in retrospect, it felt like he was still missing something.

When he first went after Lucifer, he took his little she-wolf of a wife to lure him out of hiding. Never could he have fathomed that a lover would have been a weakness for his brother. She, not even a human, prevented Lucifer from destroying mankind. Lucifer settled down with this werewolf, even took in her child, and raised it as his own. He allowed himself to grow soft… Yet it was what Lucifer wanted freely, and without shame.

Michael fixed Buffy with a hard stare. Was he no different from his brother? Having such feelings for another creature, only such was that of an actual human being? And of his own free will? She wasn’t a maggot like the rest. He’d care if something did happen to her. Oh, he’d more than care. No, he’d truly be bothered if anyone dared to lay a finger on her. He would absolutely lay waste to an entire landscape if his human were to be harmed.

“You’re quite the challenge I hadn’t expected,” Michael admitted, as he closed his eyes and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “But you know something? I won’t mind this extended stay at all.”

He snapped his fingers once. Gone was the cemetery and its gloomy atmosphere. Now Buffy found herself in a beautiful garden under a moonlit sky. As far as the eye could see, there were all sorts of fruit bearing trees, along with rivers that stretched far and wide. Michael opened his eyes and he stood gloriously before Buffy… without a single stitch of clothing on.

Being in control was one of Michael’s strongest characteristics… yet, it quickly failed, as he couldn’t help but admire how lovely Buffy looked, as she too was without any clothing on. He willed it, after all, when he teleported them within Buffy’s dream to the Garden of Eden. She was a warrior who still looked like a maiden, with how slender and delicate she appeared. As he advanced toward her, his eyes remained steadfast on hers, his breathing steady, and his vessel’s heart racing.

This was madness. It was unlike anything he’d ever done before. That was the excitement that drove him to this moment, this point of no return. He stood over her, their nude bodies now mere inches apart, and even knowing what she was capable of, she somehow looked so vulnerable. It was so wrong, but he couldn’t wait to taste her again. He never wanted anything more in his life.

His second kiss was filled with more urgency, as he wrapped his arms around her. The feeling of their bodies pressed together went straight to his manhood. He immediately wanted more of her, and he pulled her body flush against his. Even going as far as to bring one of her legs up and hook it around his waist.

Buffy was never one to hold her tongue not even after being constantly reminded of the tales, and repeatedly told, of Michael's cruelty and ruthlessness, and how his temper aligned with both. However, as she stood there bravely revealing her truth in a way that no one else seemed willing to do, she remained oblivious to that aspect of his character. She believed that beneath his rough exterior, there was a flicker of goodness waiting to be ignited. As she observed his inner turmoil, she saw a chance for redemption, a chance to bring out the best in him.

If a wrathful Archangel was capable of love, then he was capable of change. Love had the power to transform even the most hardened hearts, melting away anger and replacing it with compassion. Michael's realization of his free will, which he had always possessed but lacked the confidence to acknowledge could come to light by that same love. Perhaps, it could potentially empower him to step off the playing field and express to his father that enough was enough.

The way Michael looked at her made her swallow roughly. Her attention was then caught by a quick change in his gaze. It transformed from disbelief to a more intense possessive stare, causing the tiny hairs on her arms to stand up. The intensity in his eyes made her heart race, and she couldn't help but wonder what thoughts were swirling in his mind. She couldn't deny the magnetic pull between them, but she also couldn't ignore the warning bells ringing in the back of her mind.

" I'm not like most humans nor anyone you've had to deal with. " Buffy replied, exuding her signature blend of fiery spirit and sass. It was the little details that truly defined her character. His mention of an extended stay caused a raised eyebrow, piquing curiosity.

In the blink of an eye, she was transported to a completely different place. The sight of magnificent trees adorned with blossoms and endless rivers captivated her. A sense of familiarity washed over her as she realized she hadn't laid eyes on this place in years. As she stood there, taking in the breathtaking scenery, memories flooded back to her. The nostalgia brought a smile to her face, and she couldn't help but feel grateful for this unexpected journey down memory lane. Then, as her gaze ceased to wander, her sight landed on Michael. Another gulp came as she beheld him standing there completely naked before her. As she realizes she is fully undressed also she can't help but feel a hinge of embarrassment as she attempts to cover hers with her arms. Yet another small detail that defined who she was.

As he drew nearer, she sensed a suffocating sensation. This wasn't quite what she had envisioned when she challenged him to prove himself, but in this instant, she couldn't ignore the escalating intensity and her overwhelming desire to experience his touch once more. Even if she had desired to, she couldn't divert her gaze from his. Her heart thumped so loudly that its pounding echoed in her ears. The air crackled with anticipation, and every nerve in her body tingled with excitement. She yearned to feel his fingertips tracing delicate patterns on her skin, igniting a fire within her that only he could quench.

She was fully aware of the wrongdoing, acknowledging the need to jolt herself awake by pinching or any means necessary. The primary cause of her unease was the presence of the man slumbering beside her, and the overwhelming guilt that would consume her upon awakening and having to look into his eyes. Perhaps she was being greedy and selfish by loving them both, but the heart desires what it desires. She could deceive anyone else, but betraying her heart was an impossibility.

Their lips collided with an uncontrollable longing. Her arms intertwined around his shoulders, with her fingers firmly gripping the back of his hair. Her body ignited with a blazing fire as he pressed against her. Unable to restrain herself, she continued to entwine her legs around him, swiftly utilizing her power to secure both limbs tightly around his waist instead of one. Her back arched pressing her breast against his firm muscular chest. Soft moans escaped her lips each time she found herself needing to surface for air. " Make love to me, Michael. " Uttered words filled with an intoxicating desire.

Rational thoughts flew out the window for Michael the moment he heard Buffy’s request to make love. His body moved automatically, and he had no issues with this whatsoever. The strength she demonstrated when she tightened herself around him was arousing. Hands soothed themselves through her hair while their tongues danced in their mouths. Without having to rely on his angel strength, Michael carried Buffy over to the nearest tree and carefully lowered her beneath the branches. He treated her as if she were made of glass, all the while still tasting her, and exploring the womanly, feminine curves of her body.

These desires within him screamed to just take her and ravish her, but those rational thoughts he assumed vanished returned and urged him to remain calm. Buffy wanted him to make love to her, and he’d do just that. He wouldn’t rush this. Even as he covered her soft body with his masculine one, he would take his time with her. Peppering her neck with kisses, he reached between her thighs and ran a finger along her sopping, wet slit.

His cock stiffened, and it pulsed with aching need. He’d never been one to indulge in such pleasures of the flesh as other angels may have done before him. It went against his duties, and it was the reason why he was the most powerful archangel. He kept himself focused, yet here he was, at the sheer mercy of a slayer who had him humbled and weak at the sight of the most beautiful body his father could have gifted among mankind.

Taking his moist finger out, he slid her honey along her inner thigh and cupped the underside of her breast. He thumbed her hardened nipple, fascinated with the sounds she made in response to his touch. Curiosity got the better of him, and he brought the finger he’d used to touch her folds to his tongue. He licked it, and he closed his eyes in delight.

“Never tasted anything so good,” he murmured as he stared lustfully at her through half-hooded eyes. His body grew increasingly warm. With a hum, he added, “I want more.”

Scaling himself back, Michael kept Buffy’s legs apart and focused. Though his cock was still solid, and he was more than ready to take her, he was steadfast in pleasing his lovely little human. Leaning down, the intensity of his eyes met hers briefly, before he proceeded to lap her pussy, eagerly tasting her sweet nectar. Long, lingering strokes, even going as far as to thrust his tongue in and out of her core.

Pulling his tongue out, he planted a kiss on her inner thigh, and asked, “Do you wish to reach paradise now before I properly claim you? Or I can stop right now, and take you in the more traditional sense? Either way, I have no complaints. You taste divine, my little human.”

Michael couldn’t resist giving Buffy’s slit another long, lingering lick before she could even give him a response. He could already feel a bit of semen leak from the tip of his cock. His restraint failed him, but it was difficult to keep himself in check when the slayer was the very definition of perfection in his eyes.

Buffy had a specific motive for her request. She believed that engaging in heated passionate sex without a deeper emotional connection was merely a fleeting moment of pleasure. She yearned for a love that transcended the physical realm, where every touch and caress held a deeper meaning. To her, making love was an intimate dance of souls, a sacred union that brought two individuals closer together in mind, body, and spirit. She wanted to be connected to Michael in every way possible.

Michael, the eldest and mightiest among all the Angels, displayed an extraordinary tenderness with how he touched her. As their bodies intertwined, she could feel the power and grace emanating from Michael. His touch was gentle yet commanding as if he held the universe's secrets within his fingertips. She eagerly explored every inch of his physique, her hands gliding across his well-built form. He was perfect in every sense. It wasn't until his hand dipped between her thighs that her eyes fluttered closed. Her back arched away from the ground as she released a breathy moan.

As the flames of passion engulfed her, she could feel an exhilarating surge of energy coursing through her veins. It was as if every dormant dream, every suppressed desire, had suddenly burst into life. The intensity of this newfound fire consumed her thoughts, leaving no room for doubt or hesitation. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, she felt reborn. In that very instant, she realized that there was still a glimmer of hope remaining. The fact that Michael could expose his vulnerability and establish such a profound connection with her indicated that there was still a chance for this world.

If his intense focus on her nipples didn't already make her squirm, it definitely did when she witnessed him savoring the taste of her. " Oh God... " Her desire surged within, causing her inner walls to tighten with an intensity surpassing the fiercest flames she had ever encountered. As her desire grew stronger, she could feel her heart racing in sync with the wild rhythm of her thoughts. Every breath she took seemed to fuel the fire burning inside her, spreading warmth to every inch of her being. The anticipation of what lay ahead made her tremble with a mix of excitement and nervousness, like a tightrope walker teetering on the edge of a thrilling abyss.

" Michael... " Buffy let out a cry as his head vanished into the space between her thighs. Her heart raced as she felt such intense pleasure coursing through her body. The intensity of the moment overwhelmed her, and she instinctively tangled her fingers into the top of his hair. Her mind was consumed by a whirlwind of sensations, each one more electrifying than the last. As his tongue explored her she couldn't help but rock her hips ever so lightly. God, it was too much, and yet still not enough.

A whimper of discontent drew from her lips as soon as she no longer felt the sensation of his tongue. She found herself in a whirlwind, her heart racing as she struggled to catch her breath amidst the overwhelming shower of euphoric praises being shouted at him. She couldn't handle it any longer she needed to have him inside her, to feel him stretching her so perfectly. Another fluttering roll of her eyes came when he went in for seconds. He was going to be the death of her and she knew it, but what a glorious death it would be.

She was so wet already and the need she felt for him surpassed anything she's ever known. As heavenly as his tongue had felt she needed more. " Please, Michael... " She practically begged, her head lifting enough to catch his gaze. " Now, I want you now. " With her hands, she effortlessly brought him back above her. Their mouths met, their tongues intertwining with a fiery passion.

He enjoyed teasing her and listening to the sounds she made was music to his ears. It churned his own burning desires for her and stirred the aching within. Never had he imagined such joy in being intimate with another like this before. When she begged for him, and their mouths met once more, who was he to deny her? For once, he was at a human’s mercy – HIS human’s.

Cupping her cheeks with both of his hands, they continued to share a deep, passionate kiss. He savored the way her tongue danced with his, the touch of her soft lips against his, and the sweet, breathy pants against his mouth. Already, her legs were wrapped around his hips, and the tip of his manhood rubbed against her slick entrance. He made sure her hips were arched just at the right angle, as he temporarily broke their kiss. His gaze was intense when he spoke.

“You have no idea what you’ve done to me.”

The tone was both accusatory and at the same time, an admission of feelings he’d been denying himself. Nevertheless, Michael knew there was no turning back. Buffy was his human, and he’d do whatever it took to protect her. While he still had questions about his duties to God and his conflicts with Lucifer, there was no doubt his feelings for Buffy were strong and positive. Having her writhing and naked before him, completely open to him, assured Michael that the universe was on his side when it came to benevolent fortune.

Again, he kissed her, and at the same time, he pushed his long cock inside her. Michael closed his eyes and relished over how warm and tight she felt. He never felt anything so pleasing in all of his life. This was a type of paradise that he hadn’t imagined possible. Instincts urged him to thrust his hips against hers, and he moaned into her mouth.

His hands ran down to Buffy’s side until he grabbed her hip. He held her down to the grass so that he could thrust his cock deep, faster, and harder into her. Panting heavily, he groaned as the wet, slapping sound of flesh on flesh was heard in the night air. Pleasure was swiftly building within him, that it was nearly overwhelming.

He knew what would happen if he didn’t stop this. The consequences of an archangel and a human mating would be dire, but during this moment of bliss, Michael didn’t care. For once, he allowed himself to be selfish. Wrapped in the arms and legs of his own angel, it was impossible to want to stop. He wanted to own her body, much as she would own his. Lust and desire would conquer all tonight.

The incredible sensation she experienced solely from his touch and kisses was indescribable! Never before had she encountered such bliss. All she desired was for it to continue endlessly. Her body was trembling with the force of her desire for him, her body withering beneath him. She wanted to etch this moment into eternity, to savor the taste of his lips and the feel of his skin against hers. In this moment she knew that this connection between them was destined to be an everlasting flame, burning fiercely amidst the chaos of the world.

Buffy's heart raced as she locked eyes with Michael, his words echoing in her mind. The man she was looking at now was not the same as he had been earlier that night. The hard edges that had once defined his features seemed to melt away, revealing a vulnerability she had never seen before. It was as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders ─ as if he had shed his armor and allowed himself to be seen for who he truly was. He wasn't the only one who with those feelings because she knew after this night she would never be the same again. From the revelation he revealed to her earlier that night up until this very moment, something inside the Slayer had crossed over and never wanted to go back.

" I'm saving you... " She whispered back to him.

She was sure her face had never had such a look of pure unadulterated lust upon it as it did right now. His tongue searched every corner of her mouth sending sparks of desire throughout her taut trembling body. Michael was the missing piece of herself that she had longed for since her return from heaven. Warmth spread through her body as she embraced him. She kissed him back, feeling as if her soul was merging with his. She felt consumed with passion, her skin burning with need. But her wait was short-lived as she felt him penetrating her at long last.

Her body stiffened with pleasure causing her lips to break away from his as a heavenly moan broke past her lips. Every single nerve ending of her body came to life in ways she didn't even know existed. She barely had a chance to catch her breath before he was thrusting in and out of her aching channel. The harder he pounded into her, the louder she got. She moaned his name repeatedly as she wrapped her legs tighter around his waist. Simultaneously she begged him with words and with her actions to go deeper, harder, and faster. His movements were perfect, and she could feel her body trembling with pleasure.

His shoulder felt solid beneath her touch, a reassuring anchor amidst the swirling emotions within her. The arching of her back allowed her to press closer against him, their connection growing stronger with every passing second. It was as if their souls were dancing in perfect harmony. The grip on his hip tightened, conveying both desire and possessiveness. Her knuckles whitened under the strain, mirroring the fire that blazed within her eyes and heart. Their bodies moved as one, guided by an invisible force that defied logic and reason. Each thrust of his hips brought her closer to paradise. " Promise to never leave me again... " Breathing heavily again his ear.

Michael’s own body was overpowered with warmth and intoxication. His fingers kept busy weaving through her golden tresses, and occasionally cradling her head in the palm of his hands. He continued to revel in the taste of her mouth, and the way their tongues intertwined in a sensual dance. Yes, she was indeed saving him. He truly accepted it as fact.

The powerful emotions he had for her continued to surge through him. Listening to the sounds she made while his body moved with hers caused electricity to spark through him and jolt his nerves. Nothing about what they were doing or where they were doing it was wrong. Nobody could tell them otherwise.

Lust pummeled through his entire being. Buffy was the sweetest sin he’d ever known. When she begged him to fuck her harder, he happily obliged. He shifted their positions just slightly, making sure they couldn’t let go of one another, yet her glorious pussy would take on the pounding.

It was then he heard her plea whispered into his ear. There was no doubt in his mind – he was never going to leave her. Especially now, as they shared this moment of heated passion between them. If anyone dared to interrupt them now or even thought about taking her away from him, he’d destroy them in the blink of an eye. But thoughts of destruction swiftly banished, as ever-mounting rapture neared its peak.

Hoisting himself just high enough so that he could peer deep into her eyes, Michael grunted, “I promise… I will never leave you.”

That was a vow. In this body, or in Dean’s, Michael would not break his promise to Buffy Anne Summers. He sealed that declaration with a kiss, right as he surged into her once more, with wild, uncontrolled thrusts. The hard grip he had over her created bruising on her body, and even drew blood. She could take the pain, as she was stronger than she looked. Too many people underestimated her. She desired this, and he wasn’t going to hold back. They both wanted this.

The archangel was lightheaded. He was close, and it was hard to think. As much as he wanted to savor this frenzied state of pleasure, he could no longer keep himself in check. Michael groaned, continued to move as one with her, and within mere moments, spiraled to the highest peak. It was no gentle release, but a raging inferno. It consumed him, and it left him barely able to breathe, as he emptied himself completely inside her.

Even though Buffy knew she was dreaming, she couldn't recall a better dream. It was one she didn't want to wake up from. Her grip on him could not be tighter than it was already. Buffy knew Michael could handle her strength so there was no fear or restraint on her part. She felt safe and secure in his arms as if she belonged there and nowhere else. It was here that she felt content with where she was and with who she was with. How could this be wrong when it felt so damn right?

It was known that Slayers who didn't become rogue always reached the pearly gates of heaven when their ticket was punched. She had no doubt that this act alone would be enough to condemn her to the fiery pits of hell. It wasn't solely because she was in love with two different men, but the fact that God's most loyal and obedient son no longer seemed on track with his father's plan.

When his hips picked up the rhythm and she heard his answer to her question her eyes fluttered. She felt her body temperature rise and she could feel her heart pounding. At this point, she was sure her body was all over the bed she slept on. Buffy could feel her body shaking from the intensity of the pleasure she was feeling. She felt herself getting closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. Her body tensed up and then released in waves of pure pleasure.

She could no longer contain herself when she felt his strong, powerful body tensing above her. Her own body felt like a volcano ready to erupt. Every touch, every caress had ignited a fire within her that now burned with an intensity she couldn't ignore. As his muscles flexed against her skin, she could feel the raw strength emanating from him. The weight of his body pressing against hers created a delicious friction that made her heart race and her breath hitch.

Their bodies were entwined in a dance of desire, their connection electric and undeniable. She surrendered herself completely to the sensations coursing through her veins, losing herself in the depths of passion that consumed them both. Her body tensed and she flew straight over the edge, her climax so strong that she shouted his name so loudly that she was sure god himself had heard her. The entire time she refused to close her eyes, instead she kept her eyes locked on his. She wanted... needed... to see every single expression that touched his features. It was as if his face was a canvas, displaying the intricate tapestry of his innermost thoughts and feelings.

Both her hands raised to press palms to both sides of his face as she attempted to steady her breathing. As she pressed her palms against his face, she could feel the warmth of his skin against her fingertips. The touch brought a sense of calmness, grounding her racing thoughts. With each breath, she could feel herself slowly regaining control over herself. Both her thumbs lightly brushed against his lips. " What are you doing every night for the foreseeable future? " She just had to ask to see if his answer had changed from earlier that night.

He wouldn’t dare look away from her. There was nowhere else he wanted to look. His fascination with the slayer was beyond obsession. Nobody would dare take her away from him. He’d marked her and planted his seed in her. Dream or not, they were now united as one.

His hand caressed the side of her face as her own hand explored his. He couldn’t stop touching her. It was like a renewed sense of wonder every time. She fascinated him in numerous ways. She was like no other human he ever encountered. Michal was mesmerized. He would dare say that his father’s greatest human creation was this woman beneath him.

Though their lovemaking had ceased, he refused to pull out. Instead, they remained entangled in each other’s arms, as they continued to touch and admire one another. Sweat on sweat, skin to skin, neither ever wanted to part. They were truly one and the same in the Garden of Eden.

Michael slowly blinked at Buffy’s question, as if their wondrous act of sex tired him out. He didn’t need to sleep, but the thought of having her rest in his arms beneath the branches of this tree did bring joy to this archangel’s heart. It was one of the first selfless joys he experienced in eons.

“I’ll be visiting you in your dreams every night as I prepare to make my return back to the mortal realm,” he declared, as his fingers trailed lazily through her silken blonde hair. He gently pushed her hands away from his face, only so he could dip down and pepper her neck with kisses. While in the crook of her neck, he declared, “Consider me your personal guardian angel.”

As Buffy continued to gaze at Michael, she couldn't help but feel a surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins. Every time their eyes met, it was as if the world around them faded into oblivion. She couldn't deny the magnetic pull between her and Michael. It was a connection that defied logic and reason. The intensity of their gaze held a promise of a love that could transcend time and space, a love that could conquer any obstacle in their path. At that moment, Buffy knew that Michael had become the missing piece in her life, he was the one who had made her feel complete.

She found it difficult to fathom that throughout this entire time, she had been led to believe that he was a heartless, uncaring monster. How could someone capable of having such passion and beauty be labeled as heartless and uncaring? It was almost heartbreaking to think this encounter between them would soon end.

As she lay there, her body tingled with a mix of pleasure and longing. The lingering sensations from their passionate encounter left her craving more. Each movement of his hips, though tantalizing, only scratched the surface of her desires. She felt like she was on a high that her body refused to come down from. If she ever had an addiction he was surely it.

Her eyes fluttered again feeling his lips trailing across her neck. It had always been one of the most sensitive spots on her body. Knowing she was going to see him every night from here on out until she got to finally touch him in person had her heart pounding inside her chest. Chills rolled down her spine and without thought she found herself flipping the tables. Within an instant she had Michael lying on the grassy ground with her straddled on top of him.

" I hope you can get used to me being insatiable. " Both her hands rested at his shoulders, not that she thought she could even attempt to overpower him, but so that she could slowly and teasingly rotate her hips. Her eyes remained locked on his because no matter how long they were together it was never enough. " I hope my guardian angel can keep up. "

A second wind? The thought drew a smile upon his lips. He didn't object in the slightest. It amused him to find himself beneath her, and he didn't fight it. His vessel certain didn't mind, as a surge of pleasure swelled in his lower regions, as she rocked her hips against his.

"No hope needed, because I will keep up," he promised, as his hands slid up her arms, and stroked her skin. He drank in the sight of her breasts as they jiggled with every movement she made. Every inch of her was flawless.

Now, Michael's desires surpassed anything he could've dreamed of. Gone were his needs to please anybody, other than this mortal seated upon him, whimpering, and moaning his name. He had a new love that extended besides his father and brothers, one that he'd kill for, and protect with his own life. This love was one he'd ensure would be one that would be crying out once more with pleasure and ecstasy. His hands cupped her breasts as she continued to ride him, rocking his hips against hers. Oh, how he wanted to lick the sweat off her stomach, as he drove his shaft deep into her tight sex.

Buffy gasped at the intensity of the sensations coursing through her as their bodies fused together. Michael's hands roamed over her skin, sending shivers down her spine. She felt alive in a way she never had before, like nothing could ever touch her again. Buffy's breaths grew more ragged with each thrust, her hands clutching Michael's shoulders as she ground herself against him. She felt as though she could never get enough, never spend enough time wrapped up in his embrace. Her heart pounded in sync with his, each beat a testament to the undeniable connection between them.

As they continued to move in sync, Buffy felt as though she was floating on air, carried away by the intensity of their connection. Their bodies melded together perfectly, creating a sense of completeness that she had only ever felt once before. Michael's hands sliding across her skin, his lips trailing kisses along her neck, sent shivers down her spine. She knew she wanted more, needed more, and she would do whatever it took to have him — and not in just some out of body dream world. Their lovemaking was not just about physical pleasure, but emotional and spiritual as well. It was a connection that transcended time and space, and she knew that she would never be the same after this.

She arched her back, pressing herself closer to him, her hips moving in a steady rhythm. " Michael… " Buffy whimpered as her body trembled, the pleasurable sensations coursing through her reaching a fever pitch. She could feel her heartbeat pounding in sync with the rhythm of her body. She clung to Michael, her nails digging into his shoulders, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. But suddenly she heard in the distance a familiar voice calling out her name. She tried to shake it off but as she looked down at Michael his figure began to blur. Something or someone was trying to pull her back. Her fingers gripped tighter to Michael’s shoulders … " Not yet…please… " She pleaded.

Michael was still riding high from his climax, savoring his own intense rush, when he also heard that overly chummy voice calling out to his human. The waking world summoned her at the worst time. They were two souls reunited at long last--better later than never. Their time together was brief, but at least it was sensual and meaningful. Most importantly, it was impactful. What he left within Buffy would allow his return to Earth to be much sooner than anticipated.

The fear in Buffy's eyes, and the way she gripped him with iron tight intensity, caused him to carefully sit them up off the ground. If it'd been anyone or anything making her so distressed, he would've destroyed them in the blink of an eye. Nobody would've stood in his way, because none would've lasted a second if they hurt what was precious to him. But because it was his vessel, and because of circumstances, he couldn't do anything, but allow her to be awakened.

"It won't be too long before we'll truly be together," Michael promised, as he carefully shifted their bodies, so that their foreheads tenderly rested against one another's. This gesture was a stark contrast to how he acted when they first encountered one another. The thought of her leaving him displeased him, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. "I promise you that you'll have a reminder of me in the waking world."

Michael glanced at the morning skies, noticing the light colors breaking through the darkness. It was the first time in his billions of years of existence that he noticed that none of his father's creations could match Buffy's natural beauty. He shifted his gaze back to her, and used his fingers to stroke the side of her face and lips, allowing himself to enjoy their velvet softness one last time.

After doing so, he gave her a chaste kiss on the lips, then whispered, "Wake up."

------- One Month Later

"… Buffy?" Dean's voice called out to her from the distance. "Want some breakfast?"

Buffy slowly blinked, her eyes unfocused as she opened them to the world around her. She reluctantly let go of Michael, feeling the void left behind as he vanished from her grasp. She was disoriented and felt the remnants of the dream world still lingering within her. She was lying on her bed, her clothes disheveled and messy. It was the sight of her torn blouse and the dampness between her legs that reminded her of the intense dreams she still had. They felt so real. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had truly been with Michael, that they'd shared an intimate connection, and that it was something she desperately wanted to experience again and again.

Hearing Dean’s voice brought instant guilt within her. She had to get up, to act normal, to pretend like nothing had happened. She was still in shock, and she knew that Dean would notice something was off if she didn't get a grip on herself. She sat up, smoothing out her clothes as best she could. " Be right there, Dean ! " She called out, her voice weak but steady.

As she walked out of her room, she could feel the aftermath of her dream still coursing through her veins. Her heart pounded, her face flushed, and her mind couldn't shake the memory of Michael's touch. It was as if he had left an indelible mark on her soul, one that she was afraid could never be erased.

Darting past the kitchen and straight into the bathroom she took a moment to splash her face with some cold water. As she stared at her reflection in the mirror, she couldn't help but run her fingers through her tousled hair, trying to make sense of what had just happened. She had to do something to try and clear her head. She needed to focus on the here and now. But she couldn’t shake Michael’s last few words " I promise you that you'll have a reminder of me in the waking world ". Was he talking about Dean ? Because if so that was kind of cruel, but Michael wasn’t the cruel monster everyone lead him out to be so that couldn’t be it.

Buffy knew that she had to keep her feelings for Michael a secret, at least for now. She couldn't let anyone, especially Dean, know about the dream she had or the strange connection she felt with this mysterious figure. She had to maintain her normal facade, and try to push the dream to the back of her mind.

Stepping out of the bathroom, she took a deep breath and forced a smile onto her face. " Hey, Dean. What's for breakfast ? " She asked, trying to sound casual and carefree. She knew that if she let on that something was off, Dean would immediately sense it and she wouldn't be able to shake the feeling that she was holding a secret from him.

Dressed in comfortable sweatpants and a well-worn shirt, Dean was already working the skillet over a heated oven when he heard Buffy call out to him. He almost didn't hear her over the sizzling bacon and oil. Buffy must've had a hell of a dream to have slept that long. He almost regretted waking her up. She deserved rest. God knew he needed to sleep in, but his internal clock wouldn't allow him. He felt guilt more than half the time doing so. It was like he didn't deserve it, even after all of his personal achievements over the years.

After cooking the bacon and sausages and setting them aside, Dean prepped the hash browns and onions. Growing up, he made meals like these for Sam during the rare times they had enough money to buy real ingredients, and not junk food from the gas stations. Good old-fashioned hobo meals, or "Mulligan stews." All he needed to add left were the eggs, cheese, and milk, and boom! Breakfast was served.

Even as he moved about the kitchen, Dean's mind shifted to Buffy. When he woke up earlier, he remembered how gorgeous Buffy was in bed. Even with her clothes on, he couldn't remember seeing anyone at peace like her. When he tried to wake her the first time, he wished he hadn't done so. He internally kicked himself, and retreated to the kitchen, where he decided to make breakfast for the two of them. It was only after he warmed up the oven, and busted out the ingredients, did he consider calling out to her again. They were both destined to fight and protect others, but she deserved to rest more than he did.

"Hey!" he greeted when he finally heard Buffy's voice. "Just in time! 'Bout finished here. Have a seat at the table, and I'll serve you a mix of eggs, bacon, sausage, and onions. You up for coffee or juice?"

Buffy hesitated for a moment, her mind still foggy from the intense dream. She forced herself to focus on Dean and the present moment. " Um, coffee please. I definitely need the caffeine this morning. " She replied, managing a small smile.

As she sat down at the table, she couldn't help but notice how attentive and caring Dean was being. It made her feel even guiltier about the vivid dream she'd just had about Michael. She watched Dean move around the kitchen with practiced ease, plating up the hearty breakfast he'd prepared.

" This looks amazing, Dean. " Buffy said, genuinely touched by his thoughtfulness. Dean was so good to her, so attentive and caring. And here she was, her mind still reeling from the intense dream about another man. She took a long sip of coffee, hoping it would help clear her head.

Maybe everything would be okay as long as he didn’t ask to many questions. As hard as she tried she couldn't stop thinking about Michael's touch, his words, the intensity of their connection. But she knew she had to push those thoughts aside and concentrate on Dean, but it was so hard to focus right now.

" You didn't have to go to all this trouble. " She said, watching as Dean set a steaming plate in front of her. Her stomach growled and churned but she didn’t think it was because she was hungry. The smell of the food was causing her some discomfort. She picked up her fork, poking at the eggs, willing herself to take a bite despite her churning stomach. " How long have you been awake ? " She asked to make some conversation to distract herself, but she could bring herself to look him in the eyes because of the guilt eating her up inside.

"'Bout two hours or so," Dean replied after he turned off the stove. Once he made sure everything was secure, he served himself a plate of food, along with a cup of coffee. After grabbing the morning paper, he took a seat next to Buffy, where he scanned the headlines for any potential leads for new cases. Dean wanted to make sure he was on top of anything that might lead them to their next mission. Failure could never be an option for him.

Under normal circumstances, Dean was laser focused on his next hunt. It was his job, after all. There was no quitting when it came to being a hunter. But ever since Emma mentioned Buffy's situation, he couldn't stop thinking about it. He allowed his emotions for his daughter to blindside him over what was closest to him, what was right in front of him. He couldn't focus when two women he cared for battled for his attention in ways that tied him up and spun him around at the same time.

Dean was a soldier, and he was also a simple man. There was no beating around the bush. Buffy was puking in the bathroom as of late. Picking at the food. Avoiding eye contact. Making small talk. Wasn't acting like her cheery self.

Was she...? Maybe...?

The paper fell to the table. Dean didn't even touch his food nor coffee. Hazel eyes studied the blonde next to him.

"How late are you?" he asked her.

Buffy froze, her fork hovering midair. Her heart started racing as Dean's words sank in. She slowly lowered the utensil, her appetite completely gone now. She knew exactly what he was implying, and the possibility terrified her.

" I... I'm not sure, " she stammered, her mind whirling. She hadn't even considered that as a possibility, but now that Dean mentioned it, the signs were there. The nausea, the fatigue, the VIVID dreams... " You’ll have something in the waking world to remind you of me. " She swears she just heard his voice clear as day - it caused the fork in her hand to fall clanking against the plate.

Buffy trailed off, her thoughts in turmoil. If she was pregnant, whose baby was it ? Dean's ? Or... She couldn't even bring herself to finish that thought. The possibility was too overwhelming. " Dean, I... " she started, then faltered. How could she possibly explain the dreams, the connection she felt with Michael ? How could she tell Dean about any of this without hurting him ?

She stood up abruptly, nearly knocking over her chair. " I need some air, " she muttered fighting back her tears as she headed for the door unable to find the words to express the storm of emotions inside her. The guilt, the fear, the confusion - it was all threatening to overwhelm her.

Dean rose and pushed his seat back. He drew in a sharp breath as he started to leave the table, and yet he could only take a few steps forward, before he stopped all together. Something felt off. He wasn't sure what it was, but it was in the back of his mind.

"Buffy?!" he called out to her. "Wait!"

'Go to her!' he screamed at himself. His hand gripped the side of the table until veins were visible. There had to be something more to this than just a baby on the way. The way Buffy acted, it was as if she was extremely upset. Like she did the unthinkable. But what could it be? He didn't want to waste his time racking his brain over the many possibilities while her hormones were making her upset.

With a grunt, Dean pushed himself away from the table and hurried out the kitchen door. Busting outside under the early morning skies, he found the blonde not too far away, but slowed his pace down, so he didn't come off too intimidating. Her back was facing him, so he adjusted his posture, and remained behind her, where he made enough noise so she knew he was present.

"What's up, babe?" Dean prodded gently. "I'm here for you, y'know?"

Buffy hugged herself tightly, her shoulders shaking as she tried to hold back sobs. She could sense Dean behind her, his presence both comforting and distressing. How could she face him ? How could she explain what was happening when she barely understood it herself ?

" I don't know what's real anymore, Dean, " she whispered, her voice trembling. " These dreams I’ve been having... they feel so vivid, so tangible. It's like I'm living another life when I close my eyes. "

She turned to face him, tears streaming down her cheeks, eyes wide with guilt and anguish. " And now, if I'm really... if there's a baby... " She couldn't bring herself to say the word 'pregnant' out loud. " I… " She suddenly feels like her stomach is going to turn upside down.

There is literally no way out of this now. " I'm not sure you'd understand, " she whispered. " I'm not sure I understand it myself. " Buffy looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. The love and concern in Dean's gaze made her heart ache with more guilt because she knew exactly what it meant.

" The dreams I’ve been having, " she began hesitantly knowing she just had to spit it out no matter the outcome. " They're with... Michael. " As soon as his name left her lips she dropped to the ground on her knees. She couldn’t even face him as her eyes focused through the tears on the sandy ground beneath her.

Buffy took a shaky breath. " I didn't know how to tell you, Dean. I was scared. I thought maybe I was going crazy, or that it was just stress but he said he was giving me something in the waking world to remind me of him… and now… " She trailed off, unable to voice that somehow, impossibly, the child might be Michael's.

Dean's breath caught in his throat. Muscles went rigid. The word "baby," mixed with Buffy and Michael, left him in a stupor. Dean's relationship with the archangel was complicated enough. He hated him, and Lucifer, for what they put him and his brother through. Now with the possibility, or rather, the reality, of what was to come, hit fast and hard.

Despite his soldier mentality filing through the facts of what this meant, the dire consequences that would come out of this, the sight of Buffy in tears and in utter defeat, tore at his heart. At the same time, Dean was beside himself. Michael, an archangel who didn't seem to care one way or another for humans, had slept with Buffy in her dreams. Without a physical body, he was able to impregnate her with his child - a child that would be born a Nephilim. That proved how much power Michael still had.

Wordlessly, Dean shuffled toward Buffy's fallen form, until he was able to kneel before her. The day had just begun, but Dean was already exhausted. Michael left him emotionally drained with the fact that within a few months, a hybrid would be among them, and the end of the world was around the corner. Michael and Buffy were in trouble. Dean couldn't drop that news on Buffy, not yet. He had to figure out something out fast.

Before Buffy could lift her eyes to look at him, Dean gently put his arms around her, and gathered her against his chest. Burying his face into her hair, he murmured, "Hey, let's get you back inside so you can rest, okay?"

Buffy tensed as Dean's arms encircled her, half-expecting him to push her away in disgust. But his embrace was gentle, comforting. She melted against him, clinging to his shirt as sobs wracked her body. But this was far from over. There was still one confession she had to face up to. This was already so much for Dean to take in and what if telling him how she felt about Michael was enough to break that fragile line he was already on ? " No, no you don’t understand. " She couldn't keep hiding the truth from him because it was tearing her up inside. He deserved the truth.

She shook her head because deep down she felt like once she manages to get it out that everything’s going to change. Buffy pulled back slightly, her tear-stained face looking up at Dean. " There's... there's more. It wasn’t the dreams alone that I was scared to tell you about. " She whispered, her voice barely audible. Her fingers clutched Dean's shirt tighter, as if afraid he might disappear once the words left her mouth.

" I have feelings for him. For Michael. I didn't mean for it to happen, I swear. But in those dreams, it's like I'm a different person. And that person... she loves him. " The words hung heavy in the air between them. Buffy couldn't bring herself to look at Dean's face, terrified of what she might see there. Anger ? Betrayal ? Disgust ? She trembled in his arms, waiting for the inevitable explosion.

" I'm so sorry, " she whispered, her voice breaking. " I never wanted to hurt you. I love you, Dean. I do. But these feelings for Michael... they're real too. And I don't know what to do because I love you both. " She finally gathered the courage to meet Dean's gaze, her eyes pleading for understanding, for forgiveness. " Please say something. " She begged because she needed to hear something, even if it was him exploding at her.

Dean's arms remained around her, but they no longer had the strength they once did. They simply hung there, limp. His eyes were void of the warmth and concern they once held for the blonde. As of now, they were filled with confusion and hurt.

Well, shit. It was far from the first time he was ever deceived by someone he loved. He lost count on both hands and toes the number of times he'd been stabbed in the back. Why did this hurt worse than having his heart literally ripped out from a hellhound? Buffy looked and sounded so damned sincere about her actions, that Dean almost believed it. He should've known he wasn't meant for love. The two women in his life ultimately proved it to him: his daughter, and now Buffy.

Dean's hazel eyes hardened, but he still said nothing. There was no way she could possibly love him and Michael both. That was the swan song for him right there. Michael didn't love humans. He didn't hate them, either. How could he love Buffy? Who was he trying to kid? He forced Buffy to have his child. There was a sick plan involved. He must've brainwashed her somehow. Buffy must have been tricked into thinking she was in love with Michael. That was what Dean believed.

He took his arms back and stood to his feet, carefully stepping away from the slayer. As he turned away, a tear unknowingly slid down his face and onto the ground. A harsh sigh escaped his lips. It was difficult to think, let alone breathe. After everything Michael put him through, Buffy claimed to be in love with him? No, no, it was a trap. It was a deception. Over and over again, his mind rapidly told himself she was under his spell. The archangel harmed her, and now she was forced to carry his baby. That was it, end of story.

So why couldn't Dean believe it?

Dean made a tight fist at his side. If Michael was present here and now, he would've loved to hit him square in the jaw, over and over again, even if he broke his fist. There would've been plenty of words exchanged. Instead, Dean slowly relaxed his hand, and used it to wipe the rest of the tears that threatened to spill from his face.

"Wish I could believe you, Buff," he said, his voice utterly defeated. His back remained facing her, but his shoulders sagged, as he struggled to understand why this had to happen. "After all we went through together, after all I went through to accept you for who you are, this is what you do to me? Seriously?!"

Dean's words hit Buffy like a physical blow, causing her to flinch. She reached out towards him instinctively, but stopped herself, her hand hovering in the air between them. " Dean, please, " She whispered, her voice thick with emotion. " I know how this sounds, but you have to believe me. I never meant for any of this to happen. I fought against these feelings for so long, tried to deny them, but I can't anymore. "

She took a shaky breath, trying to find the right words to make him understand. " What I feel for Michael... it's different from what I feel for you. It's not better or worse, just... different. I’m telling you this because it’s the truth. "

Buffy picked herself up from the ground and stepped closer to Dean, her heart breaking at the sight of his slumped shoulders. She longed to comfort him, to take away his pain, but she knew she was the cause of it. " I understand if you can't forgive me, " She said softly. " But please, don't think for a second that what we have isn't real. My love for you is as true and deep as it's ever been. That hasn't changed. "

Buffy's heart was pounding so hard she thought it might burst from her chest. She watched Dean's back, willing him to turn around, to look at her, to give her some sign that all wasn't lost between them.

Buffy felt like she was drowning, desperately searching for a lifeline. " Dean, I— " The words hung between them like a physical barrier. Buffy wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling cold and alone. " This is what I do to you ? " Buffy choked on those words. Dean's words echoed in Buffy's mind, each syllable piercing her heart like a dagger. Like she had planned for this to happen. That she went above and beyond to betray his trust. She took a trembling step towards him, her voice barely above a whisper.

" Dean, please... I know I've hurt you, and I hate myself for it. But you have to understand, this isn't something I chose. These feelings... they're confusing and terrifying, and I wish I could make them go away. " She paused, fighting back a fresh wave of tears. " But I can't. And I won't lie to you anymore. You deserve better than that. " Buffy longed to reach out, to touch him, to make him understand. But she knew she had lost that right.

Finally she managed to steady herself, a new train of thought about the situation storming into her head. " Like it or not, Michael is a part of you. Is it so hard to believe I’d fall so damn hard for you both ? " There was a flutter in her stomach almost as if her baby knew she was upset and was fighting inside her. " It happened to your brother and sister-in-law, didn’t it ? I love you, Dean, but if that’s not enough and you honestly think I planned all this out just to hurt you that I could be that cruel… then I don’t know what's left to say. "

Buffy was crying--he could hear it in her voice. It killed him to know she shed tears for him. He hated having her upset, but it went both ways. He was hurting big time, too. Yeah, Michael was a part of him, but it didn't mean he liked it. His destiny was intertwined with God and the archangel. It shouldn't have to involve his love life as well.

The more he listened to Buffy's pleading, the more he was tempted to turn around. Every word sounded heartfelt. Maybe she was telling the truth. He never heard her sound so desperate before. But the mention of Sam and Marie, and their relationship, only irritated him more. He couldn't understand that complexity to this day, and the thought of sharing Buffy with Michael, was a concept he refused to accept. He didn't even realize it was going to be the same like them until Buffy pointed it out. The same, but "different." Unlike Sam and Marie, Michael and Buffy were going to create an offspring that would cause death for both parents, and cause doom for the planet. Dean couldn't let that happen.

He raked his fingers using both hands. The anger would only bubble and fester until it exploded. He needed to get away and think. Let some aggression out. If he was going to do anything destructive, he'd do it away from Buffy and the baby. He'd refuse to call it Michael's child. The very thought of her carrying his baby made him sick to his stomach.

"I still love you, Buffy," Dean said, as he offered her a sideways glance. He revealed her one teary hazel eye before he quickly turned away, determined to focus on his next phase of action. "There's no mistaking that. I'm going to do what I can to protect you and the baby. But for right now, I need you to let me have some space. I just gotta process this whole… everything you told me, okay? I'm gonna come home. I won't be gone for long, and I have my phone on me."

Buffy's heart clenched at Dean's words. She wanted to reach out and stop him from leaving, to beg him to stay and work through this together. But she knew he needed space, and she owed him that much after everything she'd just dumped on him.

" Okay, " She whispered, her voice small and fragile. " I understand. Just... please be careful out there. " She watched as Dean began to leave, his shoulders still tense, his movements stiff. Just as he was about to leave, Buffy found herself calling out to him one last time. " Dean, " She said, causing him to pause. " I know you need time, and I respect that. But please know that no matter what happens, no matter how you feel about me after this, I will always love you. And I will always fight for you. "

As Dean's footsteps faded away, Buffy felt the full weight of her confession crash down upon her. Her legs gave out and she sank back to the ground, wrapping her arms around her knees. The sobs she'd been holding back broke free. The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by her muffled sobs. She rocked back and forth, her arms wrapped tightly around her midsection, as if trying to protect the life growing inside her from the emotional turmoil surrounding it.

Minutes passed, or perhaps hours – Buffy couldn't tell. Time seemed to stand still in the wake of Dean's departure. Eventually, her sobs subsided, replaced by a hollow emptiness that threatened to consume her. She slowly uncurled herself, wincing at the stiffness in her muscles. Buffy's hand drifted to her stomach, gently caressing the slight swell there. " I'm sorry, little one, " She whispered. " I'm so sorry you have to go through all of this. " The one thing she could never be sorry about was the life growing inside her. Never had she thought the possibility of her being a mother would ever become a reality.

With a deep breath, Buffy pulled herself to her feet. She made her way back inside but only went to the window, staring out at the darkening sky. The sun was setting, painting the horizon in shades of orange and pink. It was beautiful, but Buffy couldn't appreciate it. Her mind was racing, replaying every moment over in her mind. Each word, each look, each painful silence – it all haunted her.

She placed her hand on the cool glass, seeking some kind of anchor to reality. The weight of her choices, her feelings, her very existence seemed to press down on her shoulders. For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine a different life – one where she wasn't the Slayer, where Dean wasn't a hunter, where Michael…

Buffy shook her head, banishing the thought. There was no use in imagining 'what ifs'. This was her reality, complicated and messy as it was. A soft kick from within her womb brought Buffy's attention back to the present. She looked down at her slightly swollen belly, a mix of love and fear washing over her. " I know, little one, " She whispered. " Everything's a mess right now. But I promise you, we'll figure this out."

As night fell, Buffy found herself pacing the room, alternating between checking her phone and glancing out the window. Every passing car made her heart leap, hoping it was Dean returning. But each time, disappointment settled heavily in her chest as the vehicle drove past.

#✦ — • VERSE • Where the Dead Never Sleep •#✦ — • VERSE • Where the Dead Never Sleep Smut •#✦ — • CHARACTER • Archangel Michael •#✦ — • CHARACTER • Buffy •#✦ — • CHARACTER • Dean •#✦ — • WITH EVERY INCH OF MY HEART • Buffy and Dean •#✦ — • IT’S THE BEAT THAT MY HEART SKIPS WHEN I’M WITH YOU • Buffy and Michael Smut •

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