FIC: Take me to the Ice-Show
Author: Jill
Disclaimer: hysterical laughter - not even in my dreams I would want them - oh
wait, should I say nightmares?
Category: Romance/Humor
Pairing: B/A
Rating: G
Distribution: my site (http://www.never-ending-love.de), ffnet, several lists
including BA_Fluff, if you have any of my stuff, just take it, anybody else
please tell me where it goes
Spoilers: the whole Buffy and Angel canon up to the end the season 3 episode
"Helpless"
Summary: What if Buffy hadn't thrown those tickets her father sent her into the
trash, and put them to good use instead?
Feedback: oh yes, please!!! send it to scarlet180482@yahoo.de or to
Connemara.Scarlets@t-online.de
Dedication: For my friend Ines, whose birthday I forgot I while ago. Sorry,
sweetie.



"Here, here," Buffy cries excitedly, tugging at my arm. "That's our row, and
there are our seats, eleven and twelve." Her face is practically glowing with
excitement, and I can't take my eyes off her. I'm just getting a glimpse of the
normal girl she always wanted to be, and it's breathtaking. Which doesn't mean
I'm completely enjoying being here.

"Buffy-," I try to protest but that simply makes her pull harder.

"Don't be a spoilsport, Angel," she says without looking at me. She's far too
busy stepping over legs of people who have been here before us, didn't have to
dust four vamps on their way over. On the plus side, those four won't hurt humans
again, so there's actually a reason to feel good about it. At least if I can look
over the rectangular tear in my favourite pants and the grass stain on Buffy's
red dress.

I have to swallow looking at her in the little red nothing she wears. I'm not
sure if the name "dress" really fits. I'm not even sure if you can call it
clothing at all. It's tight and red and … I groan inwardly, trying to get my mind
to other things than Buffy's beautiful backside wiggling right before me, then
glare at the guy staring at her.

"Hey, be careful."

Buffy stops for a moment, then gives the woman who has complained a dazzling
smile, "Sorry," she apologizes, at the same moment tugging my arm again. The
woman glares at her, her dyed red hair in stark contrast to her overdone makeup,
and the wrinkles she tried to cover with it.

Buffy grins at her again, tugging at my arm for a third time. I follow her with a
sigh, and pray that this soon will be over, than we can go back to the mansion
and to a lot less scary things, like vampires … or demons.

"I don't know, Buffy-"

"Here we are," she announces the same moment, pushing me into a seat, that seems
too small for me, there's not enough space for my legs, and generally I'm feeling
uncomfortable amongst all the people around us. The woman beside me is in her
sixties, and she's happily munching a bag of nachos, something that's instantly
reminding me of Xander.

God, what did I ever do to deserve this?

"Isn't it great?" Buffy beams beside me, sighing happily as she looks out to the
ice. "My dad took me here every year since I was six. I loved it. It's like being
someone completely different for one night."

Another life, huh? It's not as if my life has been free of such pleasures. I used
to go to the opera - quite often actually. I even knew some of the singers, one
or two I ate … which … thinking about it, doesn't sound too bad right now, when I
try to block out the munching noises beside me.

Anyways. I used to be an outgoing person actually. I know, it's hard to believe
these days, but hey … people change. Or rather souls change people … or …
non-people. And I'm used to a lot of things. There isn't a lot I haven't seen.

But an Ice-show?

"You liked watching me ice-skating, remember." Once again my red-dressed
companion beams up at me, her eyes sparkling with life and happiness.

I went there to see you, I want to tell her, I wanted to be with you, but can't
in the face of her relaxed happiness. Whatever she would've chosen for tonight,
I'd have been happy with it. "Yeah," I agree weakly, trying to squeeze my large
frame between Buffy and the fat woman beside us. On the plus side it means I can
sit so close to Buffy as if I'm permanently attached to her. On the negative I am
reminded that being close to her like this isn't actually allowed.

And once again my mind wanders to her tight red nothing and how her backside …

"Lighten up, Angel," she grins at me. "Fun will be good for you. You're far too
serious anyway."

What I good idea I chose the wide pants - and decided to keep the duster on for
the night.

"Something I can't say for you," I grumble, shrugging deeper into my coat. God, I
wish I could just disappear. She gives me a look before she reaches for the
popcorn I bought her. The lights go down and music starts and to my surprise it's
classic music. Carmen.

Buffy goes to something to listen to classic music?

Frowning slightly I keep my eyes on the ice where a spotlight announces the
arrival of a skater. It's a man, dressed like a torero, which is a little bit
ridiculous given the fact that the bull is missing, but the music is still good,
and so I think I can live through it.

Glancing at Buffy I see her eyes glued on the ice, following each step, each jump
of the artist. For a moment I feel jealous then instantly dismiss the thought.
But I have to admit he looks kind of hot in that dress. Unfortunately Buffy seems
to think the same. Her eyes are glued to him. They said his name was Brian
Boytano.

What kind of stupid name is that, anyway?

"Isn't he simply perfect?" Her question is merely rhetorical, but I decide to
answer it nevertheless.

"He certainly looks well trained," I whisper, leaning over to her. "Still, I
wonder how he'd look in a fight with a vampire."

She gives me the evil eye before she turns her gaze back to the guy in the skin
tight dress, and I start wondering about the real reason she came. Maybe it has
nothing to do with the actual ice-show and everything with men in dresses that
hide close to nothing.

"He's an artist," she says without looking at me.

"He's not an artist," I argue. "He's a sportsman. Believe me, I know all about
artists."

"I suppose you do," she mutters. "Probably ate one or two as well."

Oh, thanks so very much. The problem is, she's not wrong. I did eat some of them.
One of two of them were even famous. Jealousy still getting the better of me, I
bite out, "Unfortunately I missed sportsmen completely."

She narrows her eyes, but doesn't look. "Maybe I should've invited Xander. He
would at least appreciate going out with me."

And the mere thought of Xander seeing her in that little red nothing she wears…
"Are you trying to drive me crazy?"

She actually giggles at that, then takes a deep breath, and looks at me. "No. I'm
sorry, Angel. I don't want to get you worked up. It's just that I'm enjoying this
ice-show and I kind of hoped you would, too. You never go out, so … so … I
thought-"

She gives a little, helpless shrug, and her expression is so disappointed, I melt
right at her feet. I don't want her to be disappointed. I want her to be happy
and glowing, and enjoying her evening. It's her birthday after all. "*I'm* sorry.
This is your birthday. And you're supposed to have fun."

"I am having fun," she insists, but she doesn't look like it, and I feel like the
worst heel.

"Buffy-"

"Angel-"

We laugh at each other, both having spoken at that same time.

"You first," I tell her.

Her nose scrunches in that adorable way it always does, "To tell you the truth.
It's kind of dumb anyway. I've seen the same thing at least twice."

"You mean it?" I try not to let too much hope infuse my voice.

"I do." She leans over and pecks my cheek. It's just a little touch of her lips
to my skin and it makes me shiver. Suddenly her eyes twinkle, "It's Tuesday,
isn't it?"

After a second I feel a grin spread over my features. "Yeah."

She grins right back. "Then lets go."

***

And so, not half an hour later, we find ourselves at the ice-rink where our last
date was so rudely interrupted by the Order of Taraka. We made a stop at her
house on our way to pick up her skates and now she's gliding over the surface,
looking so beautiful, I wish I had the right to show her how special she really
is. But unfortunately a curse and …

… or maybe there is a way … maybe a little painful, but at least it's not going
to endanger my soul.

So only a few moments later I set my feet on the slippery surface, too, feeling
like my legs have turned into a pair of spaghetti. I've never been on skates
before, and the ones I found in the corner aren't exactly my size either. But the
look on her face, the huge grin I see lighting up her eyes is worth it.

"Angel," she laughs, gliding over to me. "Do you even know how to do this?"

"No," I admit. "But that doesn't mean I can try."

She laughs again. "You have to be the only vampire on skates."

"Probably for good reason," I mutter, feeling my feet slip from underneath me.
The last possible moment, Buffy grabs my arm to keep me upright.

"Poor baby," she grins.

Still holding her hand, I grow serious, "We can't actually do a lot of things …
you know date-like things." She grows serious as well, and I go on. "But I
thought, well, we could at least share this. And maybe the next time you invite
me to an ice-show I'll be able to appreciate it."

Instantly her eyes grow watery, and she blinks. "Oh, Angel."

"Hey," with my free hand I tilt up her head. "Only smiles allowed tonight."

She smiles while a tear slips from her right eye, "I don't need ice-shows for my
birthday. All I need is you. All I want is you."

We both smile, remembering another moment we shared. In a graveyard, when we
still let ourselves believe in the impossible. I let my thumb follow the trace
the tear has left, allowing myself the joy of feeling her satiny skin. "I never
wanted anything else. But-"

"No," she interrupts me. "No buts tonight. We can think about buts tomorrow."

We share another smile. "Agreed," I reply, and take a deep, unnecessary breath.
"So. Are you going to show me how to do this, or not? Because I'm freezing."

"Do not," she says, grinning again. "You're a vampire."

"And?"

"That means no body heat. You're cold anyway."

I give her a dramatic sigh, "You know all my secrets."

"Yeah," she laughs. "Always keep that in mind." Then she lets her hand slip from
my arm.

"Hey," I protest, feeling my legs slip again. "Buffy!"

"Just copy what I'm doing, Angel," she tells me, starting to glide ahead.

And I do. In the end my whole body hurts, and if I was human I'd be black and
blue. But I don't mind. Because for one night she was almost a normal girl. And
even though I was far from being a normal boyfriend, we let ourselves forget
about all the darkness that usually surrounds us.

For one night the laughter won. And I know we both will treasure it forever.

END