AUTHOR'S NOTES: This little ditty takes place after Becoming Part 2. It's a story about the future of B/A after her return. It comes after the story "Against All Odds". Slowly, some of the details that were so vague before are becoming known..
STORY NOTES: This is is the second part of what is "planned" to be a four part series. Three stories plus an epilogue. However, you never know, if I get disgruntled enough, I could just drop the series and let the stories I have stand on their own. I'm whacky like that. ;-)
DEDICATION: To my sister who helped me decide where I was going with this and then kicked me(and boy did that hurt) until I wrote it. And to Erana because you just bloody rock.
DISCLAIMER: The characters of Buffy, Angel and the Scooby Gang belong to Joss "Da Man" Whedon and his AMAZING staff of writers. It also belongs to the WB, FOX, Mutant Enemy and SandDollar and I'm sure there are a few other sorted characters with their hands in the pie.
Also, the title comes from a Air Supply song. The song quoted throughout this piece is "Can't We Try" by Dan Hill.
She stood facing the bartender, her hands flat on the polished wood of the bar. She could feel him behind her, hovering, uncertain of what to say to her. Ever since their reunion of sorts, she'd been so mercurial and he'd been accutely aware of upsetting her.
She whispered something. Whether to him or the barkeep, her words were simple. "I can't take this." She dipped her head down and away from him. He stepped a foot forward and touched her shoulder, turning him to her. "Please," she whispered before dropping her head to his chest.
"It's okay," Angel said softly, wrapping his arms around her. He nodded to the barkeep who was wearing a look of concern and then gently moved her away from the bar and towards the dance floor of the Bronze. It wasn't his intention to dance but the table they all usually sat at was at the other side.
"Home." She begged, half-way across the floor. "I don't..just take me home." He could feel how lax her body was becoming in his grasp. Not neccesarily relaxed so much as weak. The dreams again, no doubt. They'd always plagued her; the Slayer was prone to nightmares. These were worse. More personal. He had little doubt that something had happened to her during her three month absense in the summer after her junior year of high school. Unfortunately, his lover refused to talk and he didn't want to push her anymore than he already had.
"Okay," he said. He led her over towards the door."I'll go grab your jacket. You stay here." Angel said softly, reluctantly pulling her arms away from his torso. He lifted her hand and kissed it and then leaned forward and did the same to her lips. "I'll be right back."
She nodded and sank into a chair next to the door. She watched him move across the floor towards the table where her best friends were playing a rowdy game of poker. How little they knew. They walked on egg-shells around her, afraid of breaking the little Slayer. How could she possibly explain to them that she had been broken and rebuilt so many times that she was beginning to wonder if all the pieces still existed.
"Hey Dead Boy, what's up?" Xander asked idly as Angel approached. To his credit, he was doing his best to keep the open anomosity out of his voice. Angel shot him an annoyed look and then reached for Buffy's leather jacket. The one he'd given her.
"She's tired. I'm going to take her home." Angel replied, glancing over Willow's shoulder at her cards. He frowned. "Fold."
She glared up at him and then reached into her pile of M&M's and took out two red ones. "I see your one and raise you another." Angel shrugged. Xander frowned, looked at Cordelia who was wearing a big wolf of a grin and then sighed and tossed his cards. Willow giggled and dropped hers down.
"Son of a..you had nothing!" Xander cried. He looked at Angel. "She had nothing."
"I see that. Goodnight guys." He took the jacket and started back towards Buffy, stopping half-way when he noticed that she had dropped her head into her hands. The guilt was almost immediate.
They'd met in an alley a little over a year ago and from there everything had exploded. They both knew that they should have enjoyed that "last" kiss in the Bronze together and then walked away forever. Their worlds were never supposed to mesh. He was a vampire, his demon self vicious and brutal. She was the Slayer, a small insecure child tangled up in a web of death and pain that she could neither understand nor escape. And yet they were both tied to each other. Forever. No matter how much it hurt.
And hurt it did. Everytime he held her while she cried or watched her take out her anger and pain on her enemies, it tore at him. He wanted so badly to just wrap her up in his arms and take her away from all of it. Promise her the happy endings she more that deserved. But he could never do that. And he could never offer her false hope. Because that might hurt worse.
"Buffy?" He said quietly so as not to startle her. He heard a quiet sniffle as she raised her blonde head to look at him through tired eyes. Seventeen year old eyes that had seen more death and pain then most people see in a lifetime. Blue eyes that were now wet with unleashed tears.
"I'm okay." She said weakly, hoping that she could convince him even if she couldn't convince herself. "Home. I'm in need of my home."
Angel nooded and wrapped a strong arm around her, supporting most of her weight as he led the exhausted Slayer home. He only wished he could do more.
He watched from outside the window as her mother fussed over her, needing to make sure her little girl was alright. She was having as much trouble as the others realizing that Buffy wasn't who she had once been and maybe, just maybe, that small child of before no longer existed.
He'd broken through. Hurt her with words. Brought her to her knees and made her admit that she needed him as badly as he did her. Now was harder. Her walls were still up, even if they now had windows. She would let him in but if he pushed too hard, she'd close off beneath a sheet of tears. And perhaps she even knew that he wasn't willing to push much harder.
He wanted to talk to her. About anything. About everything. Like they used to. About the way the sun burned her skin, about how her teachers pissed her off, about the nightmares that kept her awake at night. Anything more than just the demons that walked around at night in need of an ash tray for a home.
But they never did. She kept him at arms' length, talking to him, pretending to let him in. But he knew better. And he knew that she wasn't hearing him either when he swore that he wouldn't ever let her go.
Closing his eyes, he turned away from the window, leaving his lover in the care of her mother. And yet he still didn't go far. He found a dark spot on her roof and watched her from there, waiting for the dreams to come and prepared to be there to help if she'd let him.
He had almost dozed off. That was dangerous in Sunnydale. He could have woken up anywhere. Shaking the sleep from his tired body he glanced toward Buffy's now darkened room. No noise came from the room, but that wasn't neccesarily good. Creeping along the roof, he angled himself toward her window. Of course that's when everything decided to go topsy-turvy.
One moment he had been outside the next he was flat on his back inside his lovers' bedroom with a very angry and potentially deadly Slayer ready to turn him into dust. She raised the stake higher forcing the need to think fast. He jerked his hips knocking her back in to the wall. Moving quickly he grabbed her wrist forcing her to release the stake. It dropped harmlessly to the ground."Buffy!" Angel roared yanking her against him.
She struggled against his chest, her fingernails scractching down his chest as she tried to pry herself loose. The more she struggled, the harder he squeezed, grimacing against the pain she was causing. His skin still hadn't completely recovered from first being numb and then hyper-sensitive.
"Buffy, wake up." Angel hissed into her ear. He tried to shake her a bit, hoping to bring her to her senses but stopped almost immediately when he felt her nail pierce the skin of his forearm. Frustrated, he pulled back and hit her across the face, leaving a large red point of impact. Immediately he cursed himself when he saw her cringe away, eyes now open and alert. Damn damn damn. She'd come back to her senses right before he'd hit her.
He glanced down at his arm and saw a stream of blood dripping down it. It hurt. It hurt like hell. He grimaced and then turned his attention to his lover. "Buffy, are you okay?"
She blinked, "What are you doing here?"
He smiled shyly, hoping to get equal reaction. "I was just checking up on you. I was worried."
"I'm fine. I..I just had a dream. It wasn't so bad."
"You were sleep-walking..and attacking. That's new."
"Sorry." She replied sheepishly. She rubbed her cheek absently. "Why did you hit me?"
"You tried to stake me. By the way, assuming that I am the only vampire allowed admittance to your room, why are you sleeping with a stake?"
She gave him a funny half-smile. One that was somewhat amused but more pained. "You never know what can happen."
He felt his body go cold. Angelus. Angel. They were still linked in her mind. It explained the tension he could sometimes still feel when he held her. "I thought...I thought we talked about that."
"We did." She looked down at her hands. "I trust you.."
"No you don't. Don't lie to me."
Fury sparked in her eyes. She took a step towards him, the stake somehow back in her hand. He blinked wondering how the hell she'd gotten it but didn't have long to contemplate it before she'd shoved it up against his chest. "You'd be wise not to call me a liar."
"So is this how it's gonna be? You're gonna keep picking fights?"
"Me?" Buffy cried, inadvertingly pushing the stake harder against him. He winced as it cut into his flesh.
He growled and shoved her away. "Go ahead, Slayer, play your games." His face morphed into his vampiric visage and he growled, anger yellowing his eyes. If he'd been thinking clearly, he would have seen the fear flash in her eyes and known that he had better back down. But dammit she pushed so hard. Growling once more, he leapt from the window and disappeared into the night. She watched him, a single tear trickling down her cheek.
He paced angry circles into the carpet of his apartment. God, she pissed him off so much. And only she could. She knew exactly where to push and just how much force it would take. Just like he knew how to infuriate her. And how to break her.
Idly he wondered if she was still hurt that he had done that to her. Reminded her of what she had done. Reminded them both of what they had been through.
Another thing they had yet to really talk to each other about. They knew the facts. They had made love and it had changed him into Angelus. Only that wasn't exactly true. Angelus was part of Angel but not the whole. What their lovemaking had done was bring his evil self front and center. And it had banished his soul to a place where all it could do was watch.
Angelus had tried to break her. But what he had never realized, never grasped in his lunacy was that the only thing that could destroy the little Slayer was the love that had so driven her. Which meant that only he could hurt her. He. Angel.
"Damn," Angel growled, removing his shirt and gazing down at the bright red marks her fingers had grooved into his chest. He traced a finger past one and winced.
There were times when all he wanted to do was throw her down and kiss her but there was also other times when beating the hell out of her appealed greatly. Anything to get through to her. To make her see that the only thing that could save them both was what they already had.
But it all came down to pride. And fear. She was the Slayer. One girl in all the world who was damned to destroy the forces of evil and eventually die doing so. And he was her vampire lover. He shook his head. It seemed that after all this time, things really didn't change. The vampire thing did keep coming up.
"It's so hard Will. Evertime he's near I can't help but think of Angelus and that somehow this is all a trick.. And God forgive me sometimes I don't care." Buffy whispered into the phone. It was an evening later and she had yet to muster the will to move out into the night to hunt. So instead she sat on her window seat scouring the streets below.
"Oh Buffy," Willow said sympathetically. "Have you heard from him since last night?"
"No." It was so simple. So direct. Willow shiverered a bit at the ice in her friends' tone. Perhaps because it bothered her that Buffy could feel so much hurt for someone she loved so much or perhaps because she realized that beneath it all, Buffy still cherished him with frightening intensity.
"Maybe he just needs time so he doesn't go.. well you know..grrr...on you again."
Buffy laughed at Willow's image of Angel turning into a vampire. "Maybe. Sometimes I miss him so much and then there are times..when..I don't know.."
"You just want to kick his cute vampire butt? " Willow said giggling and was relieved to hear more laughter from her friend. It was astonishly rare as of late.
"Yeah, except sometimes I really want to hurt him." Buffy sighed wondering why she could tell Willow but not her lover of her feelings towards him.
As if reading her thoughts, Willow said softly, "Talk to him Buffy. He might feel the same way."
"You're probably right, Will. Thanks. I'm gonna get some sleep now. It's been a long day. "Buffy said tiredly.
"Night." Willow replied. "Sleep well."
As Buffy put the phone on it's cradle and turned off her light she missed the dark shadow in the corner of her room. It moved as if to leave and then settled into a corner, not willing to leave quite yet.
"You should be at home sleeping." Angel said softly, approaching from behind, his boots making very little noise against the ground as he walked.
She turned towards him, the bruises of the previous nights' fight with Issac's boys still apparent on her face. She gave him a wary smile. "My mom was getting a little over-protective. I think she thinks I'm about ready to kill over."
He knew that she was trying to make light of it but he wasn't even slightly amused. "You got hit pretty hard."
"I won," she said simply, a trace of annoyance slipping into her voice.
"Thanks to me," he challenged. He took a step forward but remained an arms'length away.
"You're crazy. I had it under control until you decided to pull youir Mr. Protector Guy routine. You know all the vampires must be laughing their asses off at me. Slayer who needs help from her boyfriend. Great. Does wonders for the rep. Thanks."
"Your rep is what you're worried about?" Angel shot back. "I would think you might care more about your hide. Afterall, you left yourself wide open several times. You were lucky I was there or else your mom wouldn't be worried about you, she'd be identifying you."
"You're an asshole." She said, jumping to her feet. She reached down and grabbed a rootbeer bottle off of the ground. "I don't need this. If you have problems with my ability to do my job, take it up with Giles. I'm sure you guys can all gang up on me and decide that I'm just basically a fuck-up."
"Buffy.."
"No, that's what this is all about, isn't it? You don't think you can trust me in battle anymore. You think I'm the weak link. Afterall, I let Ms. Calendar die and I let Jude and Ms. Carpenter die.."
"Who?"
She swallowed hard, her words washing over her. "Just more people that have died becuse of me." She looked away from him. "So maybe you're right but you know what, deal with it. I'm doing the best I can."
"It has nothing to do with that. You're a damn good fighter. There's no doubt about that," Angel replied evenly, his mind working to explain why she had suddenly clammed up over the two names she'd said.
"Then what is it? Oh wait, have you decided that I still suck in bed?"
He hissed. Nevermind that the comment had come out of nowhere and without preamble. It was a figurative stake straight to the heart. The one set of words that Angelus had uttered to the Slayer that Angel would do anything to make go away. "Don't be like this."
She smiled at him sweetly and stepped up and into his face, "Sorry 'bout that lover." She backed away from him, her eyes hard blue blocks of ice. "Live and learn huh?"
He clenched his hands hard, once again overhwhelmed by the urge to throttle her. Closing his eyes, he fought for control. When he opened them again, she was gone.
Angel was still seething the next day. Damn her. He had tried to work out his anger. He looked down at the broken punching bag that was now filled with holes. Cripes, this was going to cost money.
"Kill another one, kid?" One of the older guys that trained the young boxers asked as he rounded the corner towards the shower.
"Yeah," Angel said with a sheepish smile. He reached into the locker and grabbed for a towel. A quick shower and then out into the night to try to work everything out with his bull-headed lover. Try being the operative word.
He had just stepped out into the warm night when he felt a presense behind him. Instinctively he knew that it was a friendly one. He felt a moment of hope at the thought that it might be Buffy coming to apoligize. He glanced behind him and instantly felt that hope dissipate. "Will," he said softly, trying not to let her see the disappointment.
"Angel we need to talk." Willow said as she approached. She was angry. He had seen her like this before and didn't like it. She was a tigeress when she got pissed.
He sighed. "What's up, Will?" He knew she was here about Buffy.
"You guys have got to stop this." Willow said pacing in front of him. "You need to stop being so mean and well Buffy needs..well I'm not here to say what she needs. You need to be good."
Angel felt like a child who had disappointed his mother. He hung his dark head."I'm sorry."
Willow stopped pacing and went to him. "I know it's hard but dammit Angel, she needs your love and support.. not your anger."
He nodded again, unable to defend his actions.
Willow smiled at him. "Well good because I mean..you guys belong together. And if you're both gonna be too stupid to realize that..well then..I'll just have to take matters into my own hands. Bye ya." She flashed him a wide grin and then disappeared back towards the Bronze a couple blocks away.
He stared after her for a moment, and then against his will he felt anger rise. Damn her for sending Willow. Willow was like a sister and he could never say no to her. Ugh. He frowned. Well he'd already destroyed the bag at the gym and there was still so much tension to release. A smile flirted across his face as he thought about hunting down a bad guy and kicking some ass.
"Hey Will," Buffy said softly, looking up as her friend took a seat next to her. Willow put a mug of coffee down next to the Slayer and a cup of juice in front of herself. "So, how are you feeling?"
"I'm alright," Buffy replied, taking two packets of sugar from the holder and shaking them. Willow's eyebrow rose as her friend continued to shake them.
"Um, Buffy, that's not Angel."
The Slayer blinked. "What?" Then she chuckled nervously. "Wow, you sure don't mesh words do you?"
"I used to but someone taught me that life is too short anyways. Here and now, that's all we got." Willow said, taking the sugar packets from Buffy and putting the contents into the coffee.
"Sometimes the here and now blows." Buffy replied, eyes lost in the darkness of the liquid. The colour reminded her of Angels' eyes. So full of mystery.
"Or is too painful. But you've got to face it. And him. Here take these." Willow handed Buffy two more packets of sugar.
Buffy lifted an eyebrow. "Why? Are you trying to get me wired?"
"Nope. Put them on the table."
"Okay." Buffy did as she was told.
"Now talk to them as if they're Angel."
"There are two of them?"
"Okay, give me one back."
Buffy handed one back. Willow opened it and poured into Buffy's mug.
"You just put Angel in my coffee."
"That wasn't Angel. Angel is in the one in front of you." Willow replied easily, as if it all made perfect sense. The Slayer rose an eyebrow and then stared down at the one left on the table.
"This is silly. I can't talk to sugar."
"Yes, you can."
She sighed and frowned. "Okay. Okay." She chewed her lip thoughtfully for a moment and then said softly. "Angel, I love you so much but I don't know what's happening with us or if it's even worth it." She looked up at Willow who nodded and urged her on. "We've been through so much and I'm so...I don't know..but it's like sometimes all I want to do is kiss you and be in your arms and everything is okay."
"And other times?" Willow asked softly, glad that she had decided that Xander shouldn't come to impersonate the voice of Angel.
"Other times I want to shake you," Buffy said simply, picking up the packet of sugar. " And I want to hurt you. As much as I can so that maybe you know what I'm feeling."
"Buffy.."
"Sometimes I'd like to just punch and kick you until you bleed.."
"Buffy..um..stop..."
"And I want to hear you beg me to stop. And then I want to keep going."
"Buffy, Angel is dead."
She blinked. "Huh? What?" She looked up at Willow and then followed her gaze downwards. Lying beneath her fingers was small tangle of white paper and white grains. Sugar. Oh boy. Buffy smiled at up her friend uneasly, "Oops."
Buffy walked slowly up the street toward her house. Her mom had left earlier that morning for some conference involving artifacts of dead people or something like that. Buffy had only half-listened after Joyce had started prattling on about how she didn't want to leave but had no choice. It seemed like now everytime Joyce left, she did so deathly afraid that it would be the last time she saw Buffy alive.
Since the house was empty and looming, she found that she had no killer desire to head there but really where else was there to go? Giles had, in a odd display of humanity, decided to relieve her off her Slayer duties for the rest off the week. He was conviced she was too fragile at the moment. So he and the rest of the Scooby gang sans Willow were off pikcing up the slack for her. Oh well. She fought back an urge to go to the cemetray to make sure they were okay. She really wasn't in the mood to hear another rendition of, "You're in no shape for this." This whole egg-shell routine was getting old.
Reaching her house, she started up to the door. Her Slayer senses came alive the moment she took a step onto the stairs. "Angel?"
"Who else?" Angel asked coming out of the omnipresent shadows that seemed to cloak him.
She gasped as she noticed his black eye."What happened?"
Angel just shrugged and stepped closer."I'm fine."
"You don't look fine." Buffy replied as she brought her hand to his face and traced the swelling."Oh Angel...."
"Drop it." He growled unwilling to tell her that he had gotten into a fight to get out his frustration over her. Perhaps going into the biker bar had been a bad idea. He'd been doing fine against the big burly guys intil the chick in leather had left hooked him and then looked up at him daring him to hit back. Of course he hadn't. Damn. "I just wanted to see if you were okay."
She blinked, "I'm fine. Why?"
"No reason." Angel replied, stepping away from her touch. "I saw Willow today. She wanted to talk."
"Really?"Buffy asked, wondering what her usually meek red haired friend was up to."And?"
"She talked about you. I want to talk to you about you too." Angel murmured, sitting on her front steps.
She followed suit, sitting down a few feet away from him but wanting to move closer. "Angel...please just try to understand.."
He growled startling her, "I'm trying. Believe me I am but dammit Buffy.. enough is enough." There was a long pregnant pause while he waited for her to respond. When all he heard was the air swirling around, he jumped to his feet and began to pace around on the porch, running his fingers through his dark hair. "Look. I love you...but.."
"There's a but?!" She cried out, jumping to her feet. He took a step towards her but was roughly pushed away. "Fine! Fine! Fine!" She moved to the front door and unlocked it hastily.
"No! Buffy, wait! Come on!" Angel tried to stop her but found himself facing her front door. Turning he growled and stomped down her front steps. He needed to get away before he did something he might regret. Then changing his mind he walked around to the back of her house. The little Slayer had the bad habit of leaving the back door open and now he was going to utilize it and end this whole mess once and for all.
She looked like a five year old having a temper tantrum. She was throwing objects across her room, the anger mounting with each object that failed to crash and only fell noiselessly to the ground. Her hands curled into fists as she began to pound against the wall of her bedroom. Tears streamed down her cheeks. And yet the anger remained.
Eyes blazing fury, she turned away from the wall and began to advance upon her mound of stuffed animals. She reached down and grabbed the first one. And then stopped as she stared back at the little stuffed pig. Mr. Gordo. She swallowed hard and then flung him onto the bed and reached for another. The turtle. Buh-bye.
"Does that make you feel better, Slayer?"
Buffy spun around, the turtle now clutched against her chest as if it were the only thing standing between she and her furious lover. "You don't get the meaning of go away, do you? You never have."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
She advanced on him, the turtle still in front. "You could have stopped all of this."
His body went cold. He felt the distinct urge to crumble. To admit that she was right and beg for forgiveness. But he knew better. They both had to get through the anger they were feeling. And he'd be damned if he was going to let her off the hook so easily.
He took two long steps and pulled her up into the air, his hands grabbing the lapels of the leather jacket. He held her a good two feet off the ground and then shoved her up against the wall. The part of him that felt horror at his actions went to war with the other part that delighted in finally seeing her raw. And she was, her blue eyes terrified.
"Put me down," she hissed, struggling against him.
"Or what?"
Her eyes glittered, anger replacing the terror. "Don't say I didn't warn you Dead Boy." Her foot lashed out, powerfully connecting with his groin. His mind registered the connection before his body dead. He swallowed hard and then dropped her. They both fell to the ground with twin thuds.
She recovered first and glanced over to where her lover was curled into the fetal position. She almost felt guilt, but now that the anger was released it overpowered everything. Including her love for him. At this point she just wanted him to hurt like her. She wanted him to feel the pain she had coursing through every part of her like fire. "You deserved that."
He glared up at her, anger making his eyes as black as midnight and just as deadly. Slowly he uncurled his long limbs and stood."Buffy.."
She threw a punch to stop him from talking. She didn't want to talk; all she wanted to do was hurt him. It connected solidly with his jaw and he spun back.
"Damn you!" Angel spat, involuntarily slipping into his game face. He growled at her. Inwardly he noticed that she didn't cringe this time; the anger radiating from her making her bold. He grabbed her and tossed hard on to her bed.
She rolled and landed on her feet. Turning she reached for book and threw it at his head."I hate you!"
He stopped, momentarily stunned. He had finally done it. Forced the two parts of her apart. The anger and pain. This was the anger. Raw and lethal. Now all he had to do was not let it get to him.
Too late. A book hit him in the face grazing the swollen eye, making him see nothing but red. Damn her! He hurt too. And now she would know how much. He advanced on her and backhanded her against the wall. "Likewise Slayer!" Oh no no no....
"Vampire!" she hissed as if it was a dirty word. She she hit him in the gut, doubling him over.
"Bitch!" Her eyes widened in fury and she took another swing at him. But this time he was ready. Snarling he caught her wrist, twisting it in his powerful grasp. She tried again with her other fist but much like the Briar Rabbit, he caught that hand too and twisted it. Hard. Eyes now showing pain, she let out an agonized yelp. Roughly he threw her towards the wall. She hit it with a thud and fell to the ground. He moved to the window and then turned to growl at her. "It's a damn shame you're such a child, Slayer."
She rose her head defiantly, eyes unflinching. "Stay away from me or next time, I don't care who the hell you are..lover or not...I will kill you."
"Don't worry about me, Angel laughed, using the tone of Angelus. "Worry about yourself if we should meet again before I calm down." He stared her down once more and then turned and fled through her window. The night swallowed him moments later.
Buffy slammed the window shut and slid down against the wall . She felt drained, as if all the emotion had been ripped away. She felt apathy settle over her like a blanket. A moment later, her head began to spin and she was pitched into unconsiousness.
Sunnydale was safe once more. However this time had more to do with fury at the Slayer than hers at the vampires. Angel finished dusting his overcoat off and dropped a stake to the wood floor of one of the more notorious vampire hang-outs. He looked around. "Anyone still waiting to die?" Silence. "Fuck."
He turned and walked out into the street. The night was young and yet already so much damage. Perhaps he'd gone too far, opened the wound too much. He felt regret over allowing Angelus to taunt her. But dammit she'd left him no choice.
He growled and kicked the wall. Then he winced. "Ow ow ow." His body was beginning to explode in agony from all of the places she'd hit him with her Slayer strength, not to mention all the beatings he'd given himself. And the whole hyper-sensitivity thing sure wasn't helping. Thank God that the adrenlyn had been pumping during the fight.
He closed his eyes and was immediately greeted by the mental image of him with his hands around her throat, shaking her. Continuously. And then he stopped. Because even in his mind, her eyes were filled with fear. Of him. Of them. Of herself.
"Damn Slayer," he spat, as if even the words were poison. "I was just fine until you came along." He kicked the wall again. "I gotta stop doing that," he muttered.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and started to walk. Not sure where but somewhere. And then he stopped. In front of a night club. Not a boker bar. A club. Not the Bronze. He stepped in and walked over to the bar. "Vodka."
"Can I get you something?"Angel asked hesitantly, not really sure what to do. He couldn't believe that he had actually brought someone home with him. A human woman. Oh God was he fucked up.
The small blonde woman smiled up at him and shook her head "No, sweets. Why don't we just try to get more comfortable." She stressed comfortable just a tad bit too much for his liking. Made him feel dirty.
"Um..sure." Angel cursed the Slayer again and sat down next to the woman. He had immediatly noticed her similarities to Buffy in the bar. He realized that was why she was here now. But in the end she still wasn't Buffy He stood back up You know what...I'm sorry.."
The woman smiled and nodded, "I know. Whoever she is, she's got you good."
Angel sighed. "That she does. Look can I take you somewhere?"
"No thanks." She replied with a smile. She stood and walked to his door. She opened it and turned to face him.."Good luck. You're a nice guy. Try to behave." She leaned down and kissed him softly on the lips.
He took the friendly kiss. As he raised his eyes he noticed movement behind her. Oh shit! "Buffy!"
The woman turned around, startled and faced a small tired looking girl."Excuse me."
Buffy watched her leave with narrow eyes and then turned and glared at Angel."You don't waste much time."
"It's not what you think..well sort off not..I mean..oh shit."Angel stammered
"Look I don't care. We said good-bye. I just came to give you your ring back." Buffy said with a lump in her throat.
Angel sighed. He couldn't fight anymore. Not now at least "Fine." He took the ring, ignoring the burning feeling as she dropped it into his hand. As he closed his hand around the metal band in his palm, he could feel a searing pain inside his chest.
"Leave me alone," she whispered softly. Without anger. Just the pain. She turned her back on him and started towards the stars back to the street.
"Buffy?"
She stopped, but didn't turn around. She couldn't. Her heart was breaking. She just had to make it home before the dizziness overcame her, making her too sick to move. "Yes?" Tears started to flood her eyes.
"What about my jacket?"
"I'll bring it to the cemetary tomorrow." Buffy whisperedhearing the agony in her own voice. Her words clipped hard as she forced them out. She waited a beat to make sure that she could still walk and then she left; unable to see the tears rolling down his face.
Unable to see him fall to his knees, cursing his own lips for having formed the words. Cursing his own heart for having fallen in love.
She awoke to someone gently brushing hair away from her eyes. "Morning."
Buffy blinked and looked up and into the eyes of her best friend. "Will? What are you doing in my room?"
"We're in my room." Willow replied, laying a wet cloth on her forehead. "Xander and Cordelia found you passed out in front of the Bronze. What happened?"
Buffy blinked, trying to remember. "I passed out? At the Bronze? I thought that was my room."
Willow narrowed her eyes. "You lost consiousness before this?"
"No! No. I...I just..." She rose a hand to her eye to rub at it and then stopped, her eyes locked on her knuckle. "Will,the ring."
"You must have forgotten to put it back on when you went out," Willow soothed, helping her sit up.
"Angel. I gave it back to Angel." Bufy said softly, looking down. She found that she was suddenly unable to meet her friends' eyes as her own misted over.
Willow stopped."Why?"
"We fought." She touched her cheek where he had hit her. "I told him I hated him. He said the same. I went to his apartment last night. I don't know why but I needed to. When I got there, he had a girl with him."
Willow swallowed hard. "Was she? Well..was she naked?"
Buffy shook his head. "I don't know what happened between them. I don't want to know. All I know is that he meant what he said. I gave him back the ring."
"Buffy, that doesn't mean he's stopped loving you. He could never.."
"Will, he asked for the jacket back. He gave me that before I knew anything about him. Don't tell me that's not saying he wants nothing to do with me." She dropped into her friends' arms and began to shake. "I've lost him."
"Buffy.."
"I kept trying to walk away. I kept trying to push him away. I guess he finally got the message." Buffy whispered, burying her blonde head into Willow's shoulder. Willow, for her part, tightened her hold.
"Don't give up," Willow urged. "You know he loves you."
"Do I?" Buffy asked, sitting up. She groaned immediately and fell back against the pillow. Willow pressed the cloth to her temple. "I mean come on, after everything I've done to him...after everything we've been to..maybe love just isn't enough? And maybe it's time I face that."
Willow shook her head sadly. "You're sick. All of this has completely wiped you out. You need sleep and rest. You'll think more clearly when you feel better."
"I don't know.."
"Shush. Trust me. You always have in the past. Trust me now." Willow said softly, turning away.
"Hey Will?" Buffy asked tiredly.
"Yeah?"
"Can you do me a favor? Will you return the jacket to his apartment. I..I don't think..I don't think I can."
"No problem." Willow replied. She shut the door behind her and then shook her head. It wasn't fair. Damn those two. They had more passion and love than anyone and yet they had more between them than the most star-crossed of lovers.Pride, pain, anger. It wasn't fair.
She walked through the cemetary, shivers winding their way through her. It was a reasonably warm evening and yet she felt cold. She glanced at her watch. Ten thirty. Willow and the rest of the Scooby Gang would be at the library with Giles until at least midnight. Which gave her at least an hour before she had to slip back into her room and pretend she'd been sleeping all along.
She sighed and crossed over to the tomb of Jack Wilkes. She jumped up on it and then rubbed at her arm. Her body ached with old injuries but she chalked that up to probbaly having caught something.
"Slayer." A voice said from behind her. Only it more slithered than actually spoke.
She turned and stared back into the passionless eyes of one of Issac's boys. He held a long metal pipe in his clawed hands. "Oh what, am I late for our appointment? Don't worry, I don't hold grudges." She jumped off the tomb and wavered a bit as her ankle turned in the soft mud. She cursed and then looked back up at the vamp. "Well come on, I haven't got all day."
He shrugged and attacked, swinging the pipe at her. She ducked the first blow and lashed out with her foot, tripping him. She fumbled in her equipment bag for a stake, suddenly uncertain of where she had put it. "Dammit, dammit, dammit."
"Problem?" The vamp asked, grabbing the pipe again and knocking her smack in the knee cap. She fell over, clutching at the knee that had been originally injured in the whole mess with the Order of Taraka.
"Nope," she hissed, reaching out and grabbing his ankle. She twisted it until she heard a breaking noise. Then she pulled back and clocked him in the face. Grabbing at his pipe, she smashed it against his skull. "Thanks for the toy." She reached into his bag and pulled out a stake. "But I'm on a serious time-schedule. Say hi to the other good lads I've dusted." She shoved the stake into him and watched as the air was filled with dust. She watched a moment and then let the stake fall out of her hand.
Almost immediately the pain hit her. She cringed at the intensity of it. It felt like every injury her body had sustained in the last few months was flaring up. Holding her arms tightly around her, she rocked her body against both the agony and the bone chilling cold. If she hadn't been so absorbed in the pain, she would have heard him moving towards her.
He couldn't help it. She still filled his mind, stole all of his thoughts and flowed through his dreams. Her smile, her tears. Her love, her hate. He couldn't keep himself from her. Ever since he'd first seen her, she'd been his drug. He loved her with every part of his heart and soul. And even if it was smarter to stay apart, he couldn't stop himself from watching and protecting her when he could.
Willow had come by earlier in the afternoon with his jacket and several ugly and decidely un-Will-like words. And then she'd thrown the jacket at him and said, "Something tells me that she needs you more than ever right now."
It looked like she was right. From where he stood just a few feet away, he could see the Almighty Slayer trembling like a baby, shaking as if she were caught in a winter storm. She held her arm tightly and clenched her teeth in pain. He frowned. Yes, she'd been taking more hits than usual as of late but just the same, her Slayer powers should be compensating. They weren't.
He crossed over to her and took off the jacket he was wearing. Her jacket. He draped it gently over her shoulders and lifted her up. She looked up at him questioningly, too drained to put up a fight. "I'll take you home."
-FIN
