Title: "The Last Innocent Monsters"
Author: Katy Zapatka
E-mail: jbrain@iconn.net
Webmistresses' note: This is actually the eighth and last in a series of fic set
at the very end of Season 3, the rest of which can be read here:
http://members.tripod.com/ZapatkaK/Jane.html, although this can
be read as a stand aone fic.
Notes: Just so everything is clear, in my
fic-universe, Angel's death is not -quite- as imminent
as the show made it out to be. Buffy, Giles, and
Willow can all afford to take care of other things
before they help him.

***

"We're not friends," Oz said.

Angel chuckled quietly. "I'm glad that you
decided to let me know," he said.

"Well...I know it, and you know it. But in a
lot of ways, we're completely alike."

"Really?" Angel didn't look at him. Oz couldn't
tell if he was really having no reaction or if he was
just too weak to push his feelings to the surface.

"We didn't choose what we are, you know?
Someone -made- you. Destroyed you. My cousin bit
me--unintentionally, yes--but there's a little part
of me that blames him and hates him for it.
He -made- me."

"It's interesting the way you choose to describe
it," Angel murmured, sighing.

"Interesting...and true. This is going to sound
deep--but aren't we all supposed to create ourselves
>from within? Shouldn't you have been, I don't
know...whatever you wanted to be? Shouldn't I be
able to live my life without ever being trapped in
a cage?"

"You should," Angel agreed. He wasn't quite sure
where Oz was going with his line of conversation.

"The point is, neither of us has any choice. For
the rest of your life--which, given, may not be all
that long--you'll have to drink blood and exist only
in darkness. And worst of all, you'll never be able
to give Buffy the love that you feel for her...the
love that she deserves. I'll take my wolf along
with me wherever I go...and God forbid that I pass
the curse on to my children."

He looked at Angel and caught the tail-end of a
grin on his face. "Have you ever spoken this much
before in your life?" Angel asked.

"I'm just not pushy in group settings," Oz explained,
smiling a little, too. "I guess that all this stuff
has just been sitting in my head for the longest
time...and now seems an appropriate enough time
to talk about it."

"I don't see things -exactly- as you do, but I
understand where you're coming from," Angel told him.

"Here's the thing of it, Angel," Oz said. "Tomorrow,
there's a good chance that we'll both be killed.
And I didn't want to die with these thoughts in my head."

"So...this is some sort of confession?"

"You could say that. I know that you've had these
same feelings at some time in your life."

"Yes," Angel admitted, "I have. But I dealt with
the feelings and put them aside a long time ago.
I was driving myself crazy."

"Exactly. And this was -my- way of, well...stopping
the insanity." Angel knew that Oz was trying
desperately to inject some light or comedy into their
conversation, but he couldn't join in the joking.

"Alright, Oz. I..." He stopped suddenly, his eyes
falling closed.

"Angel?"

Though it was hard to tell in the dim light, it seemed
to Oz that Angel had grown even paler in the last
few seconds. Too much activity or excitement...
whatever it was...had sapped the vampire's strength.

"Angel?" he asked again.

Nothing.

"Willow...are you out there?" he called.

Again, nothing.

"Giles...Buffy...anyone?" He could hear his own
voice echoing off the stone walls.

Where had they gone?

Glancing back at Angel, he got off the bad and
walked to the curtained doorway. He pushed the
curtain aside and looked out into the main room...
but there was no one there.

He couldn't leave Angel now.

Launching himself toward the bed, Oz landed with
a soft thud beside Angel's body. The vampire took
no notice, not even tensing at the sudden and new
weight next to him. He wasn't breathing,
and although Oz knew that he technically didn't -need-
to, he was still distressed. Angel had always been
sure to put on a careful and convincing show...and now,
he'd simply stopped.

Oz knew that he wasn't dead--Angel was still whole
and tangible on the bed--but when he pressed his
hand to Angel's cheek, Oz realized how cold his friend
had grown.

His friend?

Some how, in the last few minutes, Angel -had- become
his friend.

Strange.

And still, no one came to help him.

He couldn't let Angel die...they'd never forgive
him. A thought sprang to his mind, and though
he knew that it probably wouldn't be a help...

"Angel, wake up!" he yelled, shaking the corpse-like
figure before him. He slapped him once across the
cheek, and then again and again. Still no response.
Finally, he pulled the bandage from Angel's chest
and dug his index finger into the still-open wound
in his skin. Angel groaned as a flurry of pain
shot through his body, and he grabbed and held Oz's
wrist in his hand.

"What are you doing?"

Suppressing a shudder of fear, Oz said: "You're
fading, Angel...you're fading and I don't know where
anyone else is! I'm the only one here who can help you!"

"What the fuck can you do?" Angel growled. His entire
torso ached from the dig Oz had given him.

Silently praying, Oz said: "I can let you drink from me."

"No," Angel said, releasing Oz's wrist.

"Yes."

"No, Oz. I won't."

"You'll die, Angel. And we're going to need you
tomorrow...all of us, and especially Buffy."

"Your blood won't save me, Oz."

"No...but it'll give you a couple more minutes of
strength, and then I can go and find Buffy and the
rest of the gang."

Angel shook his head, still intending on refusing,
but when Oz offered his wrist again...

...he opened his jaws wide and bit, gratefully
drinking down Oz' living blood.

Something animalistic began to rise in Oz' body.
He felt the wolf coming to life, like an electric
current touching a pool of water. The sensuality
filled him as though the moon was rising full into
the sky...and yet, his next change was weeks off.
This had never happened before.

His demon was reacting to Angel's. They were
pulling in toward one another, hungry to fight,
to kill...to mate. It felt comfortable--a kindred
spirit--and the need to be close to and within
Angel colored him like a fever.

Oz' body reacted, and he felt himself hardening.

Angel pulled at his wrist and Oz followed along,
crawling atop his body and straddling him at the waist.
He ground his pelvis into Angel's and became aware
that the other man was reacting physically as well.
He was obviously very naked under the blanket,
and Oz could feel Angel's cock rising and falling with
the rhythm of his suction. It was almost like sex...
and some how, it went even deeper. Oz' heart sang
as Angel's teeth continued to dig into his skin, and
they pushed their bodies together in a desperate and
chaotic embrace.

Oz felt something release inside his body and a cloud
of pleasure enveloped him. The orgasm was mental as
well as physical, and he knew that Angel felt it, too.
The blanket grew wet between their bodies. They both
sighed, and Oz rolled away from Angel's body,
stretching out on the bed next to him.

And then he was embarrassed. "What was that?"
he said, almost afraid to look at Angel.

"I don't know," Angel said, and Oz was grateful
to hear added strength in his voice. "And I don't care."

Oz smiled...he felt somewhat ecstatic. He sat up
and looked across the bed to Angel, who was also
smiling. There was a shiny quality to his lips...
and Oz realized that it was stray, smeared blood.

Impulsively, he leaned over and pressed his hands to
Angel's cheeks. Angel closed his eyes, opening
his mouth in expectation...and Oz kissed him, licking
away the blood, leaving him clean and seemingly
untouched. He pulled another blanker over the
vampire, covering any last signs of their interlude.

They both heard footsteps directly outside the room,
and Oz scrambled from the bed, landing neatly in the
chair a feet few away. He crossed his legs and pulled
his t-shirt down...hopefully, if he stayed seated,
any wetness that had come through his jeans would dry.

"I'm here, Angel." It was Buffy. "Here to save you...
and I know that I'll be all you need."

Oz grinned and thought to himself; "Not quite, Buffy...
not quite."

The End