Part 23
Angel didn't know what he had expected to happen after the words, torn from his very soul, had tumbled from his lips. He wouldn't have been surprised if she stepped back, stunned and shocked, and looked at him with disgust and horror - or if she screamed and told him to get out. But as she'd done before, she surprised him completely by tightening her arms around him, pressing herself even closer to his back, the warmth of her body penetrating the chill he was feeling in and out, bringing him back to life where he'd thought himself dead just moments ago.
Hearing his sister telling him about their father had been a torture he'd never experienced before. He thought after living through the night of her sixteenth birthday, nothing could shock him. He'd been wrong. God, he'd been so wrong. And he'd been ignorant and stupid not to see what had happened right before his eyes.
"He...he raped your sister?"
Angel heard Buffy's whispered question, her voice soft, full of love and understanding, but each word felt like a blow to his midsection, even though he knew it wasn't meant that way. How could Buffy do it, he wondered, how could she touch him, feel him, when he wanted to shed his skin to get rid of the guilt and self-disgust that was threatening to consume him. "Yes," he replied, his voice barely recognizable, even to him. "He raped her ... abused her ... for years. It started when she was eight, and went on until he married our stepmother." He felt his body tighten, took a deep breath, trying to control the fury rising in him. "It went on for years, and I never knew."
"You were a little boy yourself, Angel. Barely older than Kathie. How were you supposed to know?"
"I don't know," he exclaimed, freeing himself from her arms, not able to stand her touching him any longer. She was too good, too true to be tainted by him. He was not worth being touched by her. "But I should have," he insisted. "I was closer to her than anyone-," he stopped, laughed harshly, the sound filled with self-loathing, "Or so I thought. Now I find out that there was someone much closer."
"Angel, no," Buffy shook her head, horrified by the way he was accusing himself, the way he had pushed her away. "It was your father who raped her. A grown man. You were only ten when it started."
"But don't you see," he cried, whirling around, facing her with those pain-filled eyes, eyes that only hours ago had been filled with passion and laughter. "I was the only one she had. I was her brother. I was supposed to take care of her. There was no one else."
God, how she wished she could turn back time, could return that easy look to his eyes, but of course it wasn't going to happen. Life couldn't be turned back, and the terrible truth about Kathie would have come out sooner or later. At least now she was there, could be there for him. And she would, Buffy vowed to herself, stepping closer to Angel. She would help him through this, the way he'd helped her through her own nightmares. "And what," she asked slowly, "would you have done? You, a ten year old boy, against a grown up man."
"I could have..." he started, then stopped, lifting his shoulders in a helpless gesture, "maybe informed the authorities, I don't know."
"No, you don't, do you?" she said softly, slowly, tentatively putting a hand on his arm that had started to tremble. Whether from the cold or the emotional turmoil, she couldn't be sure. But right now it didn't really matter. He might wake up with a cold tomorrow, but that was nothing compared to the pain he was going through right now. "So if you still don't know how to handle such a problem, what would you have done sixteen years ago? Listen to me, Angel. There is nothing you could have done. It's your father who is responsible, nobody else."
"She didn't tell me because she though it was her fault," Angel said, looking past her at nothing. She realized he hadn't even listened to her words. "Because she thought I'd be angry." He took a ragged breath, "Her fault. God, she was barely more than a baby. And then, after my father stopped, after she was pulling herself together, three of Parker's drunken friends tried to rape her on her sixteenth birthday. No wonder, she almost slipped away after that."
Buffy flinched at the mention of Parker Abrams, but pulled herself together quickly, "Three of Parker's friends?"
He nodded, "Yeah. They were celebrating at our home. Kathie came home from a party two girlfriends had thrown for her, she'd just come out of her shell again." He shook his head, half in disbelief, half in anger, "She was such a happy kid, and suddenly she became quiet, and I never even guessed." He turned away again, pounding a fist against the wall, making Buffy wince. "God, I was so stupid."
Not quite sure what to say, she thought that making him talk might be the best thing, so she asked, "So she came from the party?"
Buffy saw him shudder, realized he was pulling himself together with great difficulty. "She was late. Her luck was they were stone drunk, too far gone to do any real damage, but with her history it was still enough to almost drive her over the edge. When I found her that night, she was barely speaking, just kept repeating the word 'no'. She wouldn't let me touch her. If was a few hours before she even let me take her in my arms."
He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, remembering finding his sister, her clothes torn, her eyes vacant and unfocused, her lip bloody, screaming when he tried to get close. "I had just turned eighteen a month before and had decided it was time to move out. I wanted to take her with me, but my father resisted." He laughed harshly, "You have three guesses why. She didn't want to stay, but never told me why. Of course I didn't ask either. I was too busy ignoring what was right in front of me." Breathing deeply again, he continued, "Anyways. Finally she told me what happened that night and I told my father. He wanted to avoid bringing the police into it, because one of Parker's friends was the mayor's son. So I blackmailed him. I promised to keep quiet if he let her go with me."
"And he agreed." It wasn't a question. Buffy knew Angel's father had agreed. After all she knew about the man by now, she also guessed he didn't care enough for his daughter to do anything else.
"Yes," he confirmed. "Grudgingly at first, but he did. So that night, after I had a fall out with Parker because he didn't keep his buddies in check, we packed Kathie's stuff, and never went home again. Kat had a hard time dealing with what I thought was that particular night. I didn't have a clue that ...it had brought back memories that were a lot worse."
He was shaking like a leaf by now, but he didn't care. He felt cold inside in a way he never had before, so what did it matter that his wet clothes only added a coldness to the outside? He realized that Buffy was still standing close to him, but he didn't dare look at her. He couldn't take her love or her compassion right now. He didn't deserve it, couldn't accept it. Not when he'd failed as a brother in a way he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to forgive. Why on earth had he come here in the first place?
Turning around, but carefully avoiding her gaze, Angel straightened. "I need to go," he announced, moving towards the door, then stopped when she stepped in his way.
"No way," she said firmly, touching his arm. "You're not leaving. Or if you do, I'm coming with you. I'm not going to let you go like this."
"You can't stop me," he warned, hardening himself against the concern he heard in her voice. "Do you really think you can stop me?"
"Yes, I think I can," she told him gently. "You wouldn't hurt me, and that would be the only way to get through me now."
Anger flared, unfocused, hot, untamed. It was a lot better than the other feelings that were tearing him apart, so he welcomed it, and used it to steel himself when he finally looked down at her. "Don't be so sure," he warned again, "My opinion of myself isn't all to high right now. I'm not sure it would matter anymore if I had another bit of guilt on my conscience."
"That's nonsense, Angel," she replied, not backing away an inch. "You love me. I didn't want to hear it. I didn't want to deal with it. But I know it now. You couldn't hurt a person you love."
"Oh, really?" he said bitingly. "Maybe you should just ask Kathie, she might tell you otherwise."
"I'm sure she doesn't blame you," Buffy told him, wanting to touch him. But she knew she couldn't, knew he wouldn't be able to stand it.
"No, she doesn't," he admitted, remembering his sister's words, before he'd left the house. ((**It's not your fault, Angel.**)) "But she should," he insisted. "I am responsible, even though I never laid a finger on her. But standing by and letting it happen is almost as bad."
"But you didn't know!" Buffy cried, desperately trying to make him understand. "And again. You were only ten. A little boy. Your father abused your sister. He was the adult. Not you. Not you." She repeated the last words for emphasis, but had a feeling they bounced off him without changing a thing. Instead of listening to her, he was getting worse. He was building walls around himself, was trying to push her away. Well, she wouldn't let him. Not when they'd just managed to get past her ghosts. Not when she'd finally accepted that she loved him.
"I love you," she said suddenly, firmly. "I didn't tell you before, because ... because, I don't know why," she said finally, "But it doesn't matter. You made it possible. You made me love you, Angel. With your laughter, your gentleness, your love, your passion. I'm in love with you, and it's something I never expected to happen. I don't even care anymore that you're younger. It doesn't matter." Now she grabbed his arms, forcing him to stop ignoring her, "Are you listening to me? You made me love you. You can't do that, and then turn away again. Do you hear me? I won't let you do this!"
In the end she was hitting his chest with her fists, not even realizing what she was doing. The fear of losing him was too great to just let him retreat into a shell. "I love you dammit," she shouted, "I love you. Doesn't that mean anything for you?"
Angel stared down at her, saw her scream, saw her shout, felt the blows on his chest, and something inside of him opened and refused to close up again. He loved this woman. Loved her in a way that was far beyond anything he'd ever expected. He loved her. And more amazingly, she loved him. And she was fighting for him now, fighting for the man she loved.
The groan started deep in his chest, then broke out through his lips, bringing her name with it, hardly recognizable, but it made her stop and look up at him with tear filled eyes. "Buffy."
"I am sorry," she cried, "Sorry for what happened to Kathie. Sorry you couldn't help her. But I won't allow you to destroy what we have. Let me help you, Angel, please don't pull away from me. This is what love is about. And I love you."
He felt his own eyes tear, felt a sob rise, and then, almost overwhelmed by his feelings for her, he closed his arms around her, pulling her close, holding on to her like his life depended on it. "I love you," he whispered. "And I need you. God, I need you so. This hurts. Oh God, Buffy, this hurts."
They sank on the floor, holding onto each other, and although Buffy realized she was crying, she knew that the tears weren't just sad ones. Because this time she was the one to help, this time Angel was the one who had to trust her, believe in her, rely on her. It wasn't just her taking and him giving. No, now they were equal partners.
*****
Wesley was holding her in the loose embrace of his right arm, while the fingers of his left hand were combing through the dark waves of her hair. He tried his best to suppress the violent shudder that was quivering in his inner core. The rage like nothing he'd ever known before was almost consuming him.
"My father," he began quietly, keeping his fingers running through her hair, hoping it would eventually calm him the way it seemed to calm her, "used to beat me into submission when I was still a boy. And when I still wouldn't back down, he simply locked me into a closet in our hallway, only letting me out when I begged for forgiveness."
He heard the soft gasp, before Kathie turned in his embrace, shifting on the sofa they were both sitting on, so she could look at him. He was once again amazed by the wealth of compassion he saw in her eyes. How, he wondered, could someone who'd suffered so much, still feel the pain of others the way she did?
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"God," he exclaimed violently, then took a deep breath when he caught her startled gaze. The last thing he wanted was to scare her. He was still hardly able to believe that she was permitting him to touch her, even kiss her. "I am sorry," he apologized. "I didn't tell you this, so you'd feel sorry for me."
"I know," she smiled, reaching out to touch his cheek. Her eyes, like those of her brother, mature beyond her years, were full of love and understanding. "But I'm still sorry. No child should have to live through such a thing. When..." she faltered for a moment, then cleared her throat, "my father started ...showing interest, I, I thought it was me, that I did something that made him...Because, you know, it hurt. The first time-"
This time Wesley wasn't able to just sit and listen. He let go of her, surging up from the sofa in one violent motion. Ramming his hands through his hair, he took three angry paces towards the door, then stopped, "God, I can't even believe I'm thinking this, but I'm sorry the bastard is dead. I really am. I want to stand in front of him, and then put my hands around his throat, and watch while the life slowly slips out of his body." Still staring at the door, he shook his head, "And I thought I wasn't a violent person."
"It wouldn't be worth it," Kathie said softly.
"Yes, it would," he said bitingly, clenching his hands into fists, desperately trying to cling to the rest of his sanity. "Believe me, it definitely would."
"I should have phrased it differently," she replied. "*He* wouldn't have been worth it. And because I knew it I didn't tell Angel, because I didn't want it to happen. Angel might not have killed him, but he ... might have hurt him and I didn't want him to end up in jail. Not for ... him." She paused, sighed softly, "In the end he died a very painful death from the cancer that was eating up his stomach. Maybe that was his final punishment."
And he left the house and all his money to his wife and her son, not to his natural children, Wesley thought. Kathie had told him that at the beginning of their relationship. Wesley had thought the man was scum then, he knew he was the lowest kind of bastard now.
"I..." her voice was - again - very soft, "I love you, Wes. It's something I never expected to happen. But I, I would understand if..." He turned slowly and saw her frown, her eyes uncertain as she started gnawing her lip. "I mean," she shrugged, looking at him a bit sheepishly, "I'm not sure I can stand a man touching me."
"Kathie-"
"No," she held up a hand, "I, I want you to know this. I want you to know what you're getting into, before-"
"Kathie," now he was interrupting her, but he didn't care. He couldn't let her go on like this. "I'm not sure what I did to deserve you," he told her, smiling slowly, "and I might be an idiot sometimes, but don't think I'm going to let you go. I can recognize a real treasure when I see one. I know there are no guarantees, Kathie. But I'm willing to risk it. You're worth it."
He saw her lips twitch, but she didn't smile yet. "Wes, I-"
"I love you," he said, approaching the sofa, his eyes never leaving hers. "And I'm not such a prize myself. I mean I'm… some years old than you, and I might be unemployed very soon with this accusation hanging over my head. I know your brother is trying to help, but he might not be able to. So," he sat down, taking her hand, and grinned, "Don't you think we're a match made in heaven?"
At that she suddenly started to laugh, and a moment later, without warning, threw her arms around his neck, "If you put it that way," she said, "How can I do anything but agree?"
*****
"I need-" Angel started, but was interrupted instantly by two soft fingers pressed against his lips.
"You need to do nothing," Buffy said softly, but firmly, pressing his bare shoulders against the pillow. She'd finally managed to get him out of his clothes, although the situation hadn't been at all like the one she'd pictured ever since he'd left her apartment that morning. Afterwards she'd pushed him under the hot shower, not caring that her own clothes got soaked in the process, only glad he was finally getting warm again. And then, not giving him room for any discussion, she'd pulled him into her bedroom and into her bed.
That's where he was right now, clad only in a pair of boxer shorts, the lone piece of his clothing that had miraculously stayed dry. Under different circumstances, it would have been highly erotic, but right now, Buffy was only relieved he didn't look as if he might collapse at any moment anymore. Or die from pneumonia. Or both.
"I need to call Kathie," he insisted, trying to sit up again.
"No," Buffy told him, shaking her head, "she already called. While you were in bathroom, getting dry. She's with Wesley." She once again put two fingers over his mouth when he was about to protest. "She is fine, Angel. Wesley will take care of her. She told him everything. There is nothing you can do. Not tonight."
"I love you," he murmured around her fingers.
"I love you, too," she replied, kissing him quickly, softly. "I want you to sleep now."
It was indication of his exhaustion that he simply nodded, not even trying to protest again. But when she got up, he held onto her hand. "Stay?" he queried.
She reached behind her to switch off the light. Slipping under the covers, wearing only a tee shirt and panties herself, she kissed him on the forehead. "Always," she whispered. In response he pulled her close and sighed, and minutes later was asleep.
Part 24
//…// means flashback
Kathie snuggled deeper into the soft material underneath her head, trying to shield her ears from the noise that came floating through the air. She felt much too comfortable like this, to give up this spot to whatever reality wanted to intrude. Unfortunately her pillow didn't seem to have the same thoughts, and started to shift underneath her almost the same moment. She let out a little noise of displeasure, when her pillow suddenly chuckled.
"Hey, sleepyhead." Wesley's sleep roughened voice rumbled into her ear, sending pleasant shivers over her skin. "Someone's at the door."
"Mmmph," she replied unintelligibly. Kathie - and no other member of the Sullivan family for that matter - had never been a morning person, and although she didn't have the slightest idea about what time it was, she'd bet it wasn't even eight yet. "Too early," she mumbled.
"I know." Wesley sighed, before she felt his lips touch her forehead ever so slightly. "And on a Sunday, at that. I wouldn't have minded staying with you like this - uh - let's say ten or twenty years," he grinned, "but we can't just ignore the person out there."
"Can't we?" she whined.
He chuckled again, then became serious, tilting her chin up with one crooked index finger. "It could be your brother, darling. Didn't you tell me he was not taking this news well, which I can't really blame him for, by the way."
She was wide-awake in an instant. "Angel," she said her brother's name, her voice betraying the concern she felt for him. She'd seen how hard the news had hit him, and Buffy's words on the phone hadn't helped either. The only good thing was that he was with the woman he loved. Kathie looked up at Wesley. Yes, she knew what love could be worth. "You are right," she gave Wesley a quick smile, then scrambled up from the sofa they'd fallen asleep on last night, trying to straighten her clothes, knowing it wasn't going to work anyway.
Giving up the effort, she hurried through the hallway and reached for the door handle.
*
Faith had been standing in front of the door for the better part of the last hour, alternately gnawing her lips, or stepping from one foot to the other, sometimes glancing at the man in the car on the street.
When the door finally opened, her voice cracked, but she still managed to get out, "Hey."
For a moment Kathie didn't recognize the person standing in front of Wesley's apartment door, who was trying to smile at her from underneath her rain hat. The heavy drops were dripping down the sides and onto her shoulders that were covered in a well-used Barbour-coat. But when she heard the voice, the hairs in her nape stood up straight. Her voice tight, she nodded slightly, "Faith Marshall."
The dark eyes flickered toward the ground, than back at Kathie, and Angel's sister could almost feel how uncomfortable the other woman was. Good, she thought, not feeling the least bit of compassion for the student who had put Wesley through hell. Raising her chin, and quirking a brow, Kathie asked, "What do you want?"
"I … uh..." Faith looked at the young woman in the doorway, easily recognizing her as the professor's secretary, and judging from the fact that she'd opening his door on a Sunday morning, probably a lot more. The old Faith would have used that knowledge to her advantage. The college didn't look fondly on professors who became intimate with lower members of the staff, but the new Faith only tired to clear her throat, then said, "I … I know it's kind of a strange time for a visit. And I'm," she laughed slightly, "sure I'm the last person you want to see."
"You've got that right," Kathie replied, not showing any inclination to invite the other woman in, although the rain was pouring down on her heavily.
Well, she hadn't expected them to dance with joy at seeing her, Faith reminded herself firmly, once again risking a glance back at the black Mustang parked in front of the house, and the man in the driver's seat. Their eyes met for a short moment, and the message that passed between them gave Faith the courage to go on. "I … could I, maybe, come in?"
Kathie's other brow came up as well, her whole posture that of a mother protecting her young, or a lover her man, Faith thought with a flicker of amusement, once again thinking of the man in the car. "You want me to invite you in?"
"I … I need to talk to Professor Wyndham-Price," Faith explained, her eyes pleading. "It's really important."
A moment passed before Kathie shifted slightly on her feet, and after throwing a glance over her shoulder, she looked back at Faith. "If you promise not to run and scream sexual harassment again," she said sternly, her eyes holding a warning that nobody in his right mind would miss.
"I promise. I didn't come to make trouble, I came to apologize," Faith replied quickly, then released a long breath when the other woman stepped back and allowed her to enter the house.
"Give me your coat," Kathie held out a hand, then took the jacket from Faith, her face doubtful. "So, what brought this on?" she wanted to know.
This time a slight smile lifted the corners of Faith full lips. "Let's just say someone made me see my errant ways," she replied cryptically, following Kathie into the living room.
*
// With Tess gone home to her parent's farm in Oregon, Faith had expected for her weekend to be dull and uneventful. So when someone knocked at the door of her dorm on Saturday night, she had welcomed the distraction, only to freeze when she came face to face with Lindsey's arrogant smile.
"Faith," he said with a slight not, pushing past her and not waiting for an invitation.
"Hello to you, too," she replied with open sarcasm, closing the door and leaning against it. "You look a bit … worse for wear," she stated finally, noticing with amazement his wrinkled clothes, the circles underneath his eyes, and his hair standing up in every possible direction, as if he'd constantly run his fingers through it. "What happened to you?"
He stopped at the wall opposite to the door and Faith could see him take a deep breath before he turned around, facing her squarely, "You," he said finally, once again combing his hands through his hair. "You happened to me."
A brow came up, "Excuse me? I'm a little bit confused, so could you … maybe,explain?"
God, she was so beautiful, it took his breath away. For all his rational reasoning this morning, thinking about her through the day had almost driven him crazy. Instead of working on a case, he'd sat in his apartment, staring at nothing, picturing her face before his inner eye. Finally - and shockingly - he'd realized what had happened. He'd fallen in love with Faith Marshall.
"Ever since I left your dorm," he began, looking at her wryly, "I've been restless and … I didn't sleep very well last night. I finally figured you out were the problem." He shrugged out of his jacket, threw it on the bed, and slowly walked towards her. "You are spoiled even though your parents don't really take care of you, you use people, you're used to getting what you want, but," he stopped, so close now she could feel his body heat, "I can't help liking you."
Too stunned to say a word, she simply stared at him.
Making a waving gesture in the air, he went on, "Oh, I've tried to talk myself out of this, I mean, it's probably the biggest mistake I've ever made. But here it is. I care for you, and I don't care if telling you is the smart thing. So-," he stopped, breathing hard, "Are you interested?"
Her mouth painfully dry, Faith licked her lips, then swallowed, desperately trying to keep her cool, "You," she said hoarsely, "care for me?"
In response Lindsey's incredibly blue eyes narrowed, "Don't get any ideas," he warned, "I'm not going to go soft on you. You're not going to push me around. I'm not one of the idiots you usually seem to fall for."
"N-no," she stuttered, trying to comprehend what was going on. He cared for her? He liked her? She'd thought after their one - admittedly memorable - sexual encounter things were over. But obviously he didn't think so. His eyes were stormy, but this time they were still blue, not turning gray. He wasn't as angry as he'd been in the office and the night before. No, something else flickered in the depths, something that made her stomach do a little flip-flop.
"So," his voice turned impatient, "What do you think?"
"Uh-," What were they talking about? Oh, the caring thing. She looked at him again, feeling weak and warm at the same time, and afraid. God, she'd never been so scared. But she'd also never - not since Kevin - spent a night dreaming and thinking about a man. And this one seemed as serious as they came. And there was this little flip-flop feeling she couldn't get rid of. "Yes," she said, her heart pounding a mile a minute. God, what had she done?
Again something flickered through his eyes, and he relaxed slightly, placing his hands on either side of her, "There's one condition though."
Feeling all her hopes instantly shatter, all the warmth gone, Faith's gaze hardened and her voice became sarcastic. "Oh," she lifted her chin, "I should've known this would come with a price tag attached. What is it? Want me to talk to Daddy, so he can-"
She couldn't finish it, because his lips covered hers without warning, effectively cutting off whatever she'd been about to say, and leaving her breathless when he finally lifted his mouth again. "Don't ever accuse me of something like that again," he warned, his eyes glittering dangerously, "Your father only interests me because he is your father, although I'm not sure he deserves the title, but that's another problem. Not that I don't like having money, but I'm not going to play anyone's bitch for it. And I do have problems with parents neglecting their children."
His eyes suddenly softened, and with a one fingertip he stroked the skin of her cheek. "No," he murmured, kissing her once again, but playfully this time, "that's not what I meant. What I want from you is to withdraw these silly accusations against your professor. You and I, we both know that he never touched you, never harassed you. You don't need such nonsense to get other people's attention. You're too smart and way too beautiful for that."
"You … you think I'm beautiful?" God, was that her voice, so squeaky and foreign? Faith felt her eyes water, and tried desperately not to cry. But nobody - not even Kevin - had ever called her beautiful. And nobody had ever cared for her the way he did. If she wasn't careful Lindsey was going to turn her into a blubbering fool.
"Of course I think you're beautiful," he replied. "But I'm not going to say that too often. You could use it against me." He smiled to soften his words, showing her it wasn't serious. "So, will you do it?"//
*****
"So, the girl withdrew her accusations?" Buffy asked Angel from her spot on his bare chest. Her eyes took in every detail of his beautiful face, the straight nose, and his full lips that she wanted to kiss all the time, and the dark eyes, where she had seen a myriad of emotions in the short time they knew each other. The same eyes that looked at her now with open amazement.
"Yes," he nodded, placing the receiver back on the cradle. "Obviously someone made her see that it was wrong." He shook his head, "I'd like to meet that person. I don't know Faith Marshall, but I have a feeling she isn't easy to handle."
"Maybe she's in love," Buffy suggested.
"What makes you say that?" he wanted to know, watching her closely. He'd slept fitfully at first, thrashing and turning in his sleep, waking up time and again, sweaty and panting. But she'd been there every time, soothing him, whispering words of comfort, or simply loving him.
"Well," she smiled at him now, that smile he had come to love, the smile he wanted to see each morning from now on. "Love can change people," she was saying, "Nobody knows that better than I." She kissed him lightly, then looked at him with serious eyes, "How is Kathie?"
"She," Angel once again shook his head in amazement, thinking about his sister, her past, and his own guilty feelings that seemed so overwhelming yesterday. Everything looked a lot better in the face of the morning, greatly improved by Buffy, and the laughter he heard coming from Kathie. "She sounds happy. Almost bubbly." He laughed, pulling Buffy close, "She loves him," he stated, "And you're right. Love can change people. But it seems it also can work miracles. I've never heard her like this, she's … the way I remember her when she was very young. Her voice was so full of happiness."
"That's good," Buffy said softly, stroking his chest. "How do you feel about it?"
"About Wesley and Kathie?"
Buffy nodded, breathing a kiss on the sensitive flesh between his nipples, making him shiver. "Yeah."
He suppressed a moan at her ministrations, then concentrating on the subject, he shrugged, slightly shifting on the bed to get more comfortable, "I'm glad. I mean, I … wasn't sure. He's fourteen years her senior, but maybe she really needs someone like him. He isn't imposing in any way, he seems very considerate, and I have a feeling he's got his own demons to deal with. Of course," he suddenly grinned, "being Kathie's older brother, I don't want to think of them intimately in any way," he sighed dramatically, "but I have to accept it."
"I'm glad you're better today," she told him, glad his eyes were soft and loving this morning. There were still shadows in them, and some of them probably would never go away, but at least he didn't look anymore as if his world had ended.
"That's because of you," he replied softly, letting two fingers trail over her cheek, then cupping it with his hand, "I don't know what I would've done without you." He didn't even want to think about it. He'd been about to drown in despair and guilt, and only Buffy's love had pulled him from the brink.
"I love you," she whispered, kissing him, feeling warm from his words, but also a little scared. He put a lot of responsibility in her lap. But while she'd have shied away from it only days ago, his love had given her the strength to deal. It was a wonderful feeling. "I love you so very much."
"Love you back," he murmured between more kisses. Then, "You hungry?"
"Later," she said, kissing him so thoroughly, he forgot all about food, only feeling this incredible woman, her warmth, her love, and returning her kiss with all the love of his own.
Buffy moaned and shifted so that she was lying on top of him. She could feel his arousal, could feel herself responding. Before she opened up to him, she looked into his eyes, almost black with passion. She hadn't told him that Parker Abrams was the father of her lost baby. Maybe one day she would, but somehow it wasn't important anymore. She knew Parker had already forgotten her, and his ghost that had haunted her for so long, had been banished by love, and a pair of brown eyes that glazed over when their bodies joined the way their souls already had, carrying her to heaven and a future where the past couldn't hurt anymore.
END (or maybe not - read on)
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