Disclaimer: Buffy and Angel obviously don't belong to me, nor does anyone else mentioned in this story... though of course I can wish... :). I usually point out that I treat them better than their ACTUAL owner... but in this case I'm not so sure...
Spoilers: The Season 3 Episode: "The Wish". If you've seen that episode, you're up to speed. If not, you won't know what's going on :-(.
Author's Note: This takes place in the universe of "The Wish" epsiode. Everything is as happens in the episode - this is simply a possible extra scene. All rules applying to Joss' creations are in full effect. But I'd like to point out that I don't think it was a possibilty for anyone to be truly happy in those circumstances. At least for the purposes of my story.
!!WARNING!!: This fanfic is rated NC17, with graphic sexual content. I know some probably will anyway, and I can't stop that, but if you are under 18 years or older DON'T READ THIS!!!
He irritated her... that was the only thing she could come up with.
Buffy Summers tried to ignore the beaten, injured man - no, vampire - that crept along the street beside her... and failed. Again.
Irritating. Like sandpaper on an open wound. Like jangling, screeching music. Like a tickling feather that just WOULDN'T stop. Like a grain of sand forming on a pearl.
She paused to consider her mental list, realizing that she'd gone soft even in her silent disparaging of him. Somehow, what he'd said to her earlier had touched something - something deep inside of her that hadn't been awake for a very long time. Snorting with amused disgust at the idea - ridiculous! - she continued striding away from the nightclub, down the vacant, lonely street, barely hearing his low directions as they rounded a corner.
They were just passing into a residential area now, and despite the agony of timidness she'd seen so far from this town and its citizens, she still stiffened at the homey feeling the snug little houses exuded. That feeling of love and belonging that had been stolen from her viciously... as vicious as the sudden snap of a parent's neck.
Shaking her head, hard, to dispell the haunting images that clung like a revolting film to her mind's eye, she almost didn't hear him beside her.
"Buffy?" his voice was a whisper - soft and gentle... and concerned. It had been ages since anyone had been concerned about her - except for that Jeeves guy, who seemed kind of nice - and she almost mistrusted it until she turned and saw his expression. It was filled with the same yearning that had so captivated her earlier, convincing her that although he was a demon in body, he was on her side. The longer she let herself drown in his deep brown eyes, the more she found herself believing. It wasn't just the scars on his chest - though only endless, repeated torture could have produced such deep marks on a vampire - she actually found herself buying his "you're my destiny" line.
Destiny? What did she know about destiny? Well... she knew it was her destiny to die. Her Watcher reminded her of that delicate fact on a regular basis, which was only one of the many reasons she'd basically stopped reporting back to him altogether. She knew it was her destiny to be hurt. To fight and to still lose. To struggle endlessly, knowing that someday, some way, an evil creature was going to be just a little bit faster, a bit more clever... and it would be over for her. Finished. Nowhere in her destiny was there anything about a heartbreakingly beautiful man with soulful eyes who lived to protect and cherish her.
"Buffy... are you okay?"
She felt a shiver, not unpleasant, move up her spine at his words. Something about her name on his lips sounded like a caress. She'd never felt anything like it before. "Fine. I'm fine," she tried to say curtly, though it came out much milder than she'd planned. Forcing herself to look away from him, realizing that they were standing motionless on the sidewalk, she looked at the small businesses and houses they were near. "Nice," she commented. There, that came out sounding cynical, just as she'd intended.
"It was, once," he replied. "Before." He didn't seem inclined to elaborate. Instead, he led her past a narrow alley, glancing down the truncated length of it to make certain it was deserted.
"Wait." Buffy stopped him... and for a long moment she couldn't have explained why. Now it was his turn to glance back at her impatiently... though his eyes were too soft to wear the expression easily. She didn't answer his obvious, unspoken question - instead choosing to turn and venture down the alley. The walls were faded brick on either side, and even from here she could see that the ally was a dead end. 'Walking into a trap!' her senses - which sounded revoltingly like her Watcher's voice - screamed at her. She turned around to face the street, and saw the vampire watching her. Not just any vampire, though. She cocked her head at him as he drew nearer, his dark head turning from side to side, searching for whatever it was he'd missed that she'd seen. "What's your name?"
He stopped looking around, his gaze snapping back to her, his dark eyes surprised. "Angel."
"Pretty name," she blurted out before she could stop herself, regretting the words instantly. They were too soft, too weak. He could take advantage of such a simple thing. Hurt her.
"You think so?" He seemed even more suprised... but pleased.
"I..." at a loss for words, she avoided his interest, ducking her head to hide her eyes from him. Instead, she leaned up against one of the brick walls, feeling the faint scratching of mortar through her rough shirt.
"Shouldn't we..." he began, apparently wondering why they were taking a break.
"In a minute," she snapped, cutting him off. He looked hurt for the span of about two heartbeats... then his eyelids dropped, shuttering his emotions. It made her feel... bad. She couldn't remember the last time she'd hurt someone's feelings - as she knew she'd just done to him - and cared. Had she become so inhuman? So cold? "Sorry," she muttered, and it didn't make her feel any better, really.
He shrugged a little, but wouldn't look at her. "So what are we waiting for?"
She suddenly wondered if he were a dream... a fantasy of some kind. Just some clouded, gorgeous, kind, tender figment of her imagination. Or maybe she'd finally gone over the edge. Her Watcher was forever warning her to be on her guard against the insidious tendrils of mental instability. He said it would be "an inevitable response to all the death and destruction you mete out", whatever he meant by that. So... if she didn't die first, she could look forward to slowly, inevitably going out of her mind. Fun for all. She almost giggled at the thought, then bit it back, realizing it might sound odd to her - possibly imaginary - companion. She ran her eyes over his tall, lean body as he stood there in the stark alley. No. Not imaginary. He certainly looked real, enough. "Do you want me?"
As soon as the words left her mouth, she wished them back... to no avail. Like she'd told Jeeves - wishes were never granted.
He looked stunned. His eyes were wide, his mouth hanging open just slightly. As she watched, he seemed to shiver completely from head to toe. It was interesting. Like a dog shaking water from its fur, almost. "I'm sorry... I thought you said..." he seemed to be attempting to smile wryly, but it was a sickly expression, full of confusion.
She shook her head, pushing away from the wall. It had been a stupid thought anyway... they didn't have time for her foolishness now. "Nothing," she assured him, moving towards him, fully intending to walk past him out of the alley, away from the temptation of something so crazy...
He stopped her. With his body. He moved to block her exit, and she cursed herself a fool for believing his pathetic little story back in the nightclub. This was it... this was the demon who was going to prove himself by killing the Slayer. She straightened her spine, drawing her body to its full height - still nowhere near his - and raised her eyes to his face, preparing herself for a fight.
He didn't look like he was ready to give her one. His eyes were full of longing and agonized confusion, his lips trembled as he gazed at her... there was an air of complete desperation about him now. "I waited... I... for you..." he whispered.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry I never made it," she said softly, surprising herself, a vein of tenderness in her voice she couldn't recall having ever heard before.
He let out a quiet, harsh sound, his arms reaching for her... she denied years of training to avoid them and simply stood there, letting him hold her, crush her body to his. As they stood there, she allowed herself to feel something she'd almost forgotten. That someone cared for her. HE cared for her. She felt a sob building up in her chest, choking her with its intensity. Fighting it down, she burrowed closer to him. "I wish... I wish..." her voice was breaking, and she struggled for the control that had been ripped away by his obvious emotion. Then she wondered why she was bothering. Why fight it? Why fight herself? She took a deep breath against the strong bands of his arms against her sides, knowing what she wanted. She wanted to feel loved. Completely. *I wish you loved me. I wish we could be together. I wish I could grow old with you beside me.* No - all too needy... and long years of sustained terror and combat had left their dirty marks on her soul, not allowing her to express such weakness. But she needed him in this moment, more than anything. "I want... no... I wish... wish you would..." Unable to articulate her need, she raised her hands to his neck, pulling him roughly down to her level to kiss him fiercly.
He gasped against her mouth - probably in surprise - but she didn't relinquish her hold on him. She was excited... thrilled by the blood rushing through her body... felt so alive... When she lowered one palm to caress him through his pants, he gasped again... but didn't push her away.
Their coupling was hurried, furtive. Neither could completely forget they were in an alley in what amounted to a war zone. He pushed her against the wall, his hands fumbling in his haste to touch her skin. Their mouths fused hotly, hers opening first to accept him. He whimpered against her lips, his fingers digging into her hips through the course material of her pants as he lifted her body higher against his. "Want... want you... Angel..." she moaned deleriously, arching her neck to press her head against the rough brick. She could feel the sharp edges of cement particles digging lightly into her scalp, tiny hurts that were insignificant in the moment. Her hands roamed down his body, skirting the horrible wounds on his chest as he hissed in pain. Her fingers felt thick, clumsy, as she unfastened his clothing. He didn't seem to mind. She loosened her own garments, opening her trousers awkwardly, flushing with embarrassment. He pushed them down, pulling her hips up... She couldn't hold back a choked cry when he entered her... desperate and quick. He hesitated, having felt the small tear, then thrust frantically into her, his grip on her hips tight. She squirmed on him, feeling pleasure evolve from pain, biting her lip to hold back hoarse cries.
When he stiffened in her arms, his body clenching and releasing between her thighs, she sighed into the hollow of his throat, feeling warm and safe. Despite their surroundings...
She came back to herself quickly as faint screams of terror and pain filtered to her ears on the night breeze. He heard them too - pulling quickly from her and clumsily refastening her clothing without looking her in the eye.
Staring fixedly at a pathetic, dangling button on his shirt, she wondered if this moment would be all they would ever have. She wished for more. Maybe after all this was taken care of - the Master a dusty memory - he would agree to come back to Cleveland with her. Or somewhere else... anywhere else... just as long as they were together. Jeeves was a Watcher, maybe he could...
"We should go." His words were a faint whisp of a sound in the alley, but they stopped her fantasies cold. He was standing a little away from her now, having finished adjusting their clothing for both of them. He still wasn't looking at her.
She was frightened by the weakness she felt welling up in her, choking her. "A-angel?" she said softly, trying to catch his eyes.
He finally looked at her... and he was crying. Shattered.
"Angel! What...?" She wondered if she'd done the wrong thing - complicating an already confusing situation by pulling him into intimacy. But a small part of her soul - the part that had prodded her into breaking a wounded vampire's shackles instead of staking his heart - told her that they could never have been anything less than everything to each other.
He took a single step towards her and crushed her fiercly in his arms once more. "I waited for you, and now you're finally here... but I feel like you're being torn away from me already, Buffy," he moaned quietly into the soft skin of her neck. "I'm afraid."
She pulled a little away from him, letting him see the steely resolve in her eyes. "No. Angel, we'll finish this. Kill the Master, set these people free. Then we can leave here... I don't care where, but..."
He cut off her flow of words with a gentle kiss. "I've loved you forever," he whispered.
"But you just met..."
He shook his head. "You're my destiny."
She laughed a little. A real, sweet laugh - and realized that she hadn't done that in so long it almost sounded rusty. "Yes. This is like a dream, Angel."
"It's real," he assured her. "I wish it were already over in this place," she said suddenly, looking around himself in distaste. "I don't like Sunnydale so much."
"Then let's finish it." She took his hand and led him to the mouth of the alley, checking first to make certain their enemies were nowhere about before leaving its comparitive safety. As they walked - Angel giving quiet directions - she tried to focus on the fight ahead, knowing that the kill of a Master vampire was never a sure thing. Drawing on all her training and countless hours of vicious, brutal combat with demons, she forced herself to drop Angel's hand as they crept around the final corner before the factor. Surprisingly, the entrance wasn't well guarded at all, and she took out the two vamps there easily, without raising the alarm. Nodding to Angel, she turned and walked in, feeling him strong and tall behind her. They eased through the door as one... only to find the festivities in full swing as the repulsive Master addressed his minions.
"What's the plan?" Angel's voice right in her ear reminded her that this time, this once, there was someone guarding her back.
She shook a stake free, handing it to him, fighting back a surge of fear for him. "Don't fall on this," she said, trying not to let him see her uncertainty.
He nodded, accepting the weapon from her... following her as she started to snake her way through the crowd.
Of course wishes didn't come true - she'd known that all along... that's what she'd told Jeeves. Steeling herslf against the pain that seemed to explode within her, she forced herself through his ash, trying to see the Master through the glittering fragments of a lost love.