STORY NOTES: Takes place within the UCSL W/S, B/A(us) universe created by Laure Alexander. This story comes after her piece called Comparisons and before Heart Hush. If you would like to read those, please go to: http://homepages.ihug.co.nz/~beehre/fanfic.html
DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to the god known as Joss. No sue-age for I am not a god and merely a poor college kid. Deal with the poorness.
DEDICATION: To Laure. Thanks for the letting me do this and proofing.
The original plan hadn't been to get wasted. At least that was what she told herself as she brought the bottle to her lips and allowed the gold fluid to pass over her tongue. No, all she wanted to do was take a small drink to help her sleep and perhaps another to make all the bad feelings disappear.
That had been plan she had been operating under when she had snuck the bottle of Scotch out of Giles' alcohol cabinet in his apartment. A couple of shots to make it all go away. Somewhere along the way, things had changed dramatically. But of course they had. Tilting her head back, she fell to her butt next to the wetbar and leaned back against her. She dropped the bottle between her legs and stared out the large window that was facing her.
It was dark outside already. Then again it was probably well past nine at night. "Time flies," Buffy Summers murmured. Then she laughed; sounding very much like a child that had just inhaled too much helium.
And it was funny. God, yes it was. All of it. Every bit. Spike and Willow waltzing around like passionate lovers and she and Angel..strike that, Angelus hitting the sheets at every opportunity even though they both despised if not hated each other. Then again, who really knew what existed between she and the monster that wore her former lovers' face? All she knew was that if it was love, it was one-sided.
Buffy brushed a stray tear away from her cheek and lifted the bottle. She took a long drink, wondering again if all of the pain and heartache would disappear if she could just stake Angelus.
Probably.
Not.
She laughed bitterly, knowing full well that it was a waste of time to even think about it. She was in love with him. Angel. Angelus. Whoever and whatever the fuck he was. But far worse than the pangs of love that were slowly tearing her heart apart and making it numb was the bitter and agonizing realization that she needed him. In body as much as soul.
And he was hers as much as she was his. He'd never admit it, not completely but it was true. When all of the ugly layers of hatred, passion, lust, hurt and love were peeled away, what it all came down to was both obsession and need. They were each other’s drug.
She took a long drink from the bottle, feeling the hot liquid burn a path down her throat. It warmed her shaky stomach but refused to do the same to her heart.
God, how melodramatic. How disgustingly sick.
All of it. Even the romance warming like a campfire between Spike and Willow. Oh they had it all. Yeah they did. Trust, respect, passion, lust, sex that wasn't meant to possess or hurt. And a growing love for each other.
All of the things that she used to have with Angel.
Shaking with a barely contained rage and jealousy that even in her intoxicated state she knew was wrong, Buffy took another hard swig from the bottle. Then she pulled it away, stared at it for a long moment and then threw it against the far wall. Her eyes widened in horror at her own actions as it shattered loudly, gold liquid dribbling down the cream coloured wallpaper.
"That wall must have pissed you off something special," a soft voice said from above her. She could feel someone bend down next to her, placing a hand lightly on her flannel clad shoulder.
"Willow," Buffy said coldly. She winced at her own tone but discovered quickly that she had no intention of altering it. "What are you doing here? I thought you had a date with Peroxide Boy tonight."
"I do," Willow replied softly, glancing over to the wall where the Scotch was beginning to leave gold drip stains. Buffy's mom was likely to go postal if she were to see them. It would have to be dealt with before Joyce Summers returned from her art buying expedition to San Diego.
"Then shouldn't you be fucking Spike right now instead of looking at me like I'm pathetic?" Buffy growled.
"At the moment, you are." Willow answered, looking out the window towards the front yard. She could see Spike standing in the middle of the lawn, a cigarette dangling from his lips as he paced small easy circles. He was trying to look casual, like he wasn't standing in front of the house of his mortal enemy. Like he wasn't banging a seventeen year old highschool girl.
"Gee thanks, Will. I'm glad we had this pep-talk." Buffy muttered, her voice calling Willow's attention back to the kitchen. She watched wearily as Buffy attempted to push herself to her feet, using the wetbar as support.
"Buffy, maybe you..maybe you shouldn't." Willow said, reaching out for her best friends' arm as the little Slayer attempted to regain her equilibrium.
"I'm..fine." Buffy gritted out, stumbling and almost falling on her face after only a few feet of movement.
"You're drunk is what you are. But I guess you already knew that," Willow reproached dryly, not looking the least bit amused. Worried was more like it. She hated seeing Buffy so out of control. It always spelled trouble. And promised pain.
Buffy laughed. An odd pained noise full of anger and anguish. "Yes, I am. I really am. I'm fucking plastered. So go on..go get laid..one of us should be getting it the right way."
"Oh Buffy..."
"Don't!" Buffy snapped, her blue eyes igniting with a dangerous fire. "I don't want your sympathy..."
"But you don't want me happy either," Willow told her, sadness creeping into her tone.
Buffy looked up at her friend in horror. "That's not true! You know that, Will. I could...I would never begrudge you that.."
"I didn't say it was intentional," Willow replied calmly, feeling oddly detached as she spoke. She glanced out the window and saw Spike lighting a new cigarette. "But just the same, part of the reason you've never been too happy about Spike and I is that it reminds you of everything you had with Angel." She reached out and grabbed Buffy's jaw, feeling the tension in the muscles. She lifted it up and forced the Slayer to look at her. "Angel. Not Angelus."
"That's bullshit," Buffy growled, trying to pull away from the once shy hacker. But her coordination was off and Willow held the advantage.
"Is it? What do you see when you see he and I together? Holding each other, kissing.."
"Stop it," Buffy hissed, turning her head away so that she was staring at the Scotch stained wall opposite her. Now she wished that she hadn't broken the half-full bottle in her moment of fury. As drunk as she was, she could still be more. And more probably meant unconscious. And not having this conversation.
Willow grabbed her roughly by the lapels of her flannel shirt, startling her out of her thoughts. Before she knew it, the girl had shoved her up against the wall and was shaking her. "No, I won't stop. I want to know what goes through your head when you see he and I making love.."
"It's sex, Willow," Buffy spat back, shoving the red-heads' hands away and then stumbling towards the table. She slumped down into one of the chairs and put a hand against her forehead.
Willow followed her over, placing her palms flat against the table and attempting to stare Buffy down. "It's more than sex and you know it. It's what you and Angel used to have.."
"Fuck you," Buffy muttered, dropping her head into her hands.
"I know you're scared to admit it but.."
"You don't know anything!" Buffy growled, the fire back in her eyes as the anger heated her words to a near explosive level. "Don't you dare compare whatever the hell you and Spike have to what I had with Angel...ever." She shook her head in disgust. "God, you're so busy fucking him..you can't even see straight.."
"And you can" Willow shot back, her temper seriously short. She knew that she should attempt to be more tolerant; Buffy was far beyond plastered and way into the realm of insensibility. Just the same, Willow found that she couldn't stop the anger that bubbled to the surface when someone demeaned what she and Spike had. Whatever the hell that was. "Come on, Buffy..at least I'm fucking someone whose mission statement isn't 'how much can I hurt you', you know?"
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't I? Who's been the one you've come to after he's beaten and fucked you like you were some cheap whore?"
Buffy looked up at her, suddenly seeming years younger as her blue eyes grew wide in horror. "Is that how you see me?"
Almost immediately, the colour drained out of Willow's face. "Oh God...no..."
Buffy laughed bitterly. "Well you're right, I am.. I fuck Angel because I'm so goddamn pathetic that I can't imagine..hell I can't even contemplate living without him. However I can have him."
"Buffy..that's not what I meant.."
"Isn't it? C'mon Will, celebrate; you were right. I'm jealous of you..I'm shit-faced jealous of you because you have what I had. And I don't want you to have it because all I'll ever have is a mean as hell demon who wants to bang me as much as I want to bang him. For now." She looked down at the table, unable to meet Willow's eyes.
"Buffy," Willow began, uncertain of where to take the conversation. She'd known those truths were there, seen them lurking in the sad blue depths of her best friends' eyes everytime the Slayer came in contact with she and Spike. It was a reminder of all that had been taken from her.
Willow took a step forward, hand outstretched. Buffy shook her head. "Don't. Please don't understand. I don't think I could take it."
Willow smiled slightly, grimly. "I don't. Not really. But it doesn't matter. I know you're hurting and that hurts me too.."
Buffy looked up, tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry. That's the last thing I ever wanted to do. I just..I miss him so much.."
"I know."
"And everytime Ang..Angelus touches me, it's like my body and sometimes my mind will do everything it can to convince me that it's my Angel. And that he won't hurt me." She took a deep sobbing breath. "But he always does. And I keep letting him."
"You love him," Willow said simply, sitting down at the table, in the chair next to Buffy. She placed a hand over the Slayers and the coaxed the blonde into meeting her eyes. "It's okay."
"No, it's not," Buffy said softly, sadly. "But I don't know what else to do. I can't let him go..I don't know how. And I can't live without him. However I can have him." A tear trickled down her cheek, heading towards her chin. Willow reached across and gently brushed it away.
"You need sleep. You're trashed." Willow said, taking Buffy's hand and then sliding it over so that she could lift the Slayer up.
"I am." Buffy agreed almost thoughtfully. "I really am."
"You need to sleep it off. I would say you'll feel better in the morning but you're going to have one hell of a hangover." She wrapped an arm around the Slayers' waist and led her towards the stairs.
"You know I'm going to remember all of this in the morning and I'm gonna feel like a real ass," Buffy drawled, her head lolling to rest on Willow's shoulder.
"That's okay. We're all entitled," Willow replied with a small chuckle. She led Buffy into her room and then laid her onto her bed.
"I guess," Buffy murmured, her eyelids suddenly feeling like heavy weights. She struggled to keep them open but quickly gave up. "I miss him.."
"I know," Willow replied, pulling off Buffy's socks. The little Slayer had been sitting in her kitchen wearing cut-off shorts, a tee-shirt, a flannel and socks. Very odd for her and yet very indicative of her mental state. Willow briefly considered removing the flannel but quickly decided against it. Perhaps Buffy's clothed state would deter Angel if he happened to chance by looking for sex. Probably not but just the same, even the possibility of Buffy enjoying a peaceful night of sleep was enough.
Leaning down, Willow brushed a kiss across Buffy's forehead and then turned towards the door. "Goodnight my friend."
"So all better now, pet?" Spike asked, glancing up at Willow from the porch where he was sitting, A half-smoked cigarette dangled from his lips. He tended to chain-smoke when he got bored.
Willow frowned, looking upset, even disturbed. "Hm..oh ya. She's asleep. I left some Tylenol by her bed. She'll need it when she wakes up."
Spike stood up and put the cigarette out. Then he crossed over to her and reached around , taking her into his arms. "Do I even want to know what's got the Almighty Slayer all bugged?"
"I wish you two would try to get along," Willow muttered.
"It's not that we don't get along, love. Really. It's just that we have this whole casual I hate you and you hate me thing happening. But we're still on each others' Christmas card lists."
Willow threw him a look. "Uh huh."
"So what's her problem," Spike asked, nibbling her ear.
"Angel," Willow murmured, placing a hand on his neck to urge him to continue kissing her.
"There's a bloody surprise. What did the Big Bad Bastard do this time?" Spike queried, moving his hands beneath her blouse.
"Not Angelus..Angel. She misses him." Willow murmured, closing her eyes and tilting her head back against his chest.
"Ah well.. it is her fault he's gone," Spike murmured, dropping his kisses down to her collarbone.
"What?" Willow gasped, pushing him away and staring up at him, her eyes fiery with indignation for her best friend. "How can you say that?"
"It's the truth. They got sweaty and he became the prick we all love to hate. Remember, Angelus?"
"She didn't know," Willow protested, the indignation giving way to anger.
"I didn't say she did it on purpose. Even she's not that bloody dumb."
Willow narrowed her eyes dangerously. "She's already suffered enough because of this.."
"True enough," Spike conceded. "Look I'm not saying it's completely her fault. I mean there was mutual banging involved but the fact remains, it was her actions that changed him. Now she has to live with that."
Willow glanced up towards Buffys' window. "She already is. And you see what it's doing to her." She sighed deeply. "I wish I could help her.."
"Well you can't, love. Not tonight anyway. Come morning you can hit all the books you bloody well like and you can hope and pray to find a cure but until then.." he cupped her chin gently. "There's nothing you can do. But enjoy tonight." He grinned evilly. "With me, pet."
"If it's out there, I will find it." Willow vowed.
"I don't doubt it," Spike said, kissing her mouth, gently nibbling on her lower lip. "But not tonight. Tonight..I have plans for you."
She was lying on the grass of her backyard, arm slung across her face to block the sunlight when she heard him approach. For a moment she felt fear but the warmth of the sun beating down on her chased it away. This was a dream. She was safe with him here.
"Buffy," he said softly, sitting down next to her.
She sat up slowly, smiling shyly as she gazed back at him. "Angel?"
"Ya, baby," he replied, moving closer to her. She felt his arms wrap around her, pulling her against his hard chest.
"Is it..you're really here, right?" she asked, her voice shaking as she took in his scent.
"I'm where you need me to be."
"Okay," she murmured, settling against him. A moment later she felt him lift her into his arms. She opened her mouth to ask him where he was taking her but he silenced her with a finger over her mouth.
"It's okay," Angel promised tenderly as he dropped her from his arms. She felt herself settle against a softness; a mattress. A moment later, he joined her. "Shh," he whispered, his fingers gently unbuttoning her shirt. "I love you."
Her eyes brimming with tears, she reached up and captured his mouth in a feverish kiss. Half of it desperation and half of it joy.
He returned the passionate embrace hungrily, their mouths making love even as his hands discarded the shirt and went to work on her unclasping her bra. She heard the soft click as it gave way but didn't register it's absence until his mouth left hers to take her nipple into it.
Moaning loudly, she wove her fingers through his black hair and pulled his head further into her chest. He didn't disappoint.
His mouth went wild over her breast as he continued to suckle it like a baby nursing. His eyes danced mischievously as her cries grew louder in pitch.
She was barely aware of one of his hands moving down and across her body until it snaked under the waistband of her shorts. He quickly released the button of the cutoffs and then pulled them down her legs.
"Do you love me, Buffy?" Angel asked, lifting his head from her breasts even as his fingers brushed her panties away and went to work on readying her for him.
She looked back into his eyes. So dark. So mysterious. So passionate and loving. She was sure of that. This was her Angel. She moaned loudly as his fingers dipped into her. "Do you?"
"Yes," she whispered. "I love you so much."
"Good," he replied, kissing her mouth fiercely. She felt him press against her and her body almost exploded right then and there. Jesus Christ, fire and ice. "You belong to me..you know that right?"
She nodded fiercely as he entered her, her body and mind too far gone to give a damn about what he was saying to her. "I'm yours," she moaned as he begun to thrust into her. Gently, passionately, his eyes full of love. "Always yours," she whispered, her fingers tangling in his hair once again.
"That's right, bitch, you are," he growled back at her.
Her head shot up, eyes full of shock. "Oh God..no.." A tear trickled down and across her face as she stared up and into the hateful eyes of her demonic lover, Angelus. Not her Angel at all.
The gentle passionate thrusts of her dream gave way to the reality of hard, body-wracking blows that made her small frame shake. They were brutal, savage, devoid of passion and filled with angry lust. The very definition of fucking. Not making love.
She felt him fill her time and again, his mocking eyes never leaving her devastated face. And when he tipped her over the edge within her, forcing her to cry out in humiliation, anguish and pleasure as she followed him, he was laughing at her.
"Better than killing, my beautiful Bitch Queen," Angelus murmured as he stood up and began to dress. She stared up at him, her face red with tears and the exhaustion of sex. He grinned at her. "See you tonight, lover. Thanks for the goodnight fuck."
"I hate you," she whispered, her heart breaking. The pain there was ten times more intense than that which was beginning to feel her mind as her head feverishly reminded her that she was hung-over.
"I'm sure you do, my love." Angelus laughed, reaching down to grab her face. He forced her to look at him and then he kissed her hard, deeply amused by the immediate response he got from her. She couldn't deny him. "But you also love me." He kissed her again, scraping a fang across her lip until it split. "You really are pathetic, Summers."
And with that said, he turned away from her and crossed over to the window. He glanced over his shoulder at her once and then fled out into the night, leaving her to cry once more as the sun prepared to rise over the Sunnydale hills.
Groaning softly, Willow rose groggily from her bed at the sound of the doorbell trilling loudly throughout her empty house. The folks were doing a religious retreat somewhere up in the hills. Thank God. She glanced over towards the opposite side of the oversized bed and saw that her peroxide blonde vampiric lover was still soundly asleep, his head resting beneath a large pillow.
"Don't worry, I'll get it." she muttered dryly, remembering now why she had become a caffeine addict. Mornings were definitely of the uber-suck.
"It's light out, pet." Spike muttered from beneath the pillow. "And I can't say that I'm much in the mood to go sun-bathing today. Forgot my lotion you know."
Willow threw him an unamused glare and then rolled off the bed and reached for the green terrycloth bathrobe that was hanging on the door. Pulling it closed around her and tying it, she slipped her feet into her slippers and then left the room, shutting the door loudly behind her. Good, that oughta wake him up.
Descending the stairs slowly, she rolled her eyes dramatically when the doorbell sounded anew. "I get the point already," she muttered. Pulling it open, her eyes lit up when she saw her visitor. "Buffy. Hi."
"Heya," the little Slayer replied uneasily, her hands nervously tugging at the drawstring of her sweatpants. She was dressed simply, a faded tee-shirt and running sweats. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a sloppy ponytail and her face was devoid of makeup. She wore dark shades of eyes that Willow was willing to bet were bloodshot.
"How's your head?" Willow asked, taking Buffy's hand and pulling her into the house.
"It..it's not too bad," Buffy lied. "It's kinda like a parade." She paused. "A very loud one."
"I'm sorry," Willow said sincerely, leading Buffy into the kitchen and then ushering her towards the table. Buffy removed her sunglasses and squinted at the harshness of the lights. Willow smiled apologetically and turned then down.
"No!" Buffy said quickly. "Don't be. I deserve it. I was a complete moron last night.."
Willow glanced back at her. "Your lip is cut."
"What?" Buffy said, shaking her head in confusion.
"Your lip is cut. I take it you had a visit from Angel this morning," Willow replied, filling the coffee pot with water from the tap.
Buffy looked down and away, "Yeah."
"Are you okay? You're shaking..."
"I guess he does that to me. What a guy, huh?" Buffy joked uneasily, still unable to meet Willow's eyes.
Crossing the kitchen quickly, Willow reached across and grabbed Buffy's hand, holding it tightly within her own. "Buffy, don't. Not after last night. I thought we got past that.."
Buffy looked up, her face red as she softly and very sadly murmured, "We did. I'm sorry.." Tears sparkled in her blue eyes.
"Good, then." Willow said, giving her hand another squeeze. "Want some coffee?"
"Will, I am sorry about last night. I had no rig.."
"I like it strong myself. Very strong for days when I have to take a test.."
"Will, please.."
The hacker turned, a small smile lifting her lip. "Buffy, don't you get it? That was yesterday. It's forgotten. You were drunk and you needed to get it out. You did. It's over. Folgers or Tasters' Choice?"
Buffy blinked in confusion, baffled by both the odd segue and Willow's calm dismissive attitude. "But.."
"Nope. No buts. It's not productive and it makes me think. I haven't had my caffeine yet. No thinking. It's a rule." She poured several heaping spoonfuls of grinds into the filter. "Now we're gonna sit down and I'm gonna help you work off this hangover. End of discussion." She turned and stared dead-on at the little Slayer. "Resolve face."
Buffy gave her a small smile in response. "Okay." Then she groaned. "Oh ow. I think I'll go right to the sitting down part."
Willow smiled somewhat brightly. "Just relax. Everything will be alright before you know it." She turned her back one her friend that was stumbling over to the couch. She poured the water into the filter and hit the on button and then turned to watch Buffy.
Whose look said it all. It was the expression that was a cross between shattered and lost. The one that said that she'd given up believing that things could ever be alright again. That one that revealed that she was breaking just a little bit more everytime she allowed herself to seek comfort in the arms of Angelus. The one that wondered if death might not be better.
Willow crossed over to the couch and settled next to Buffy. She gave her friend a small smile and then reached out and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer and into a half-embrace. "It will be alright," she vowed. "It will."
