Hellmouths are for Lovers

Chapter Nine

Despite the fact that all they had done was some pretty PG-13 kissing, Buffy was mortified. Offering his hand, Dean helped her climb to her feet, but she could not meet his eyes, or Castiel's.

"This is worse than getting caught by your parents..." Buffy mumbled.

"Actually, it should alleviate your embarrassment to know that we are always watching," Castiel responded in his ever-so-ineffective way of showing consolation.

Both Buffy and Dean cringed at the thought.

"Not better," Dean sighed and shook his head.

"Is there something in particular you want?" Buffy inquired just to change the subject.

"I'm here so you may have a worthy foe against which you can properly assess the potential of the amulet."

"What? You think she was holding back, or something?" Dean snorted.

"Shelf your pride for a moment, Dean. I assure you, if she had not shown restraint, you would be a smear on this concrete floor."

"Were you taking it easy on me?" Dean asked, a little disappointed.

She merely shrugged, "... define restraint."

"Don't feel ashamed Dean," Castiel attempted to provide a bit of solace, "Your fragile human form is weak, and is not designed for this type—"

"Alright, I get it!" Dean threw up his hands walking to the side.

Turning towards Buffy, Castiel nodded.

"Buffy, do not be afraid to unleash the full extent of your enhanced abilities—I will heal."

"Um...what about me?" her eyes were wide with concern.

"In the event I should cause a life endangering injury, I promise that I will heal you immediately."

"Color me reassured," she smirked.

Producing his angel sword, Casiel brandished it ominously.

"What the hell is that for?" She gasped.

"For authenticity."

"Are you kid—"

But, Buffy could not finish her last question before the sword sliced dangerously close to her chest. Only just dodging the blade, she realized she would have much less time to react. Castiel was much, much faster. She could not so accurately predict his movements like she had been able to do with Dean. A swipe at her throat sent her careening backwards, crashing to her knees as she slid. When the sword slashed downward she was able to somersault away, but not cleanly. Slinging her by the arm he had been able to snatch, she went flying across the room into a heap of rusted out shelving units.

"Cas! That's enough!" Dean shouted, breaking towards the downed Buffy.

Pushing him out of the way, Castiel used his powers to pin him against a support column.

"I am well aware of what I am doing. She can handle this," his voice was unnervingly calm despite the circumstances.

Stepping slowly up to Buffy, who was bleeding from the forehead and the dorsal side of her hand, he leaned over her to speak, "Perhaps you're not properly motivated," and, he paused thoughtfully, "Try this."

Gently tapping her forehead with his middle and index fingers, her eyes shut abruptly. When they hesitantly reopened, she was no longer in the warehouse, nor did she have any memory of ever being there. She was standing in the chamber with the Seed of all Magic. But, she was not alone. Bathed in foul, red light eminating from the seed, the edges of Angel's face were sharp and menacing. Seizing her by the hair, he snapped her backwards. From her periphery, she could just make out the broken shape of Giles body, still and quiet on the floor.