Come Back to Me
by Spikesdeb
Chapter 4
When Dawn returned to the
conference room to check on Buffy, the sight that greeted her made her blood
boil. There was her sister, wrapped
in the arms of her former lover and looking more than comfortable to be there.
God, that didn’t take long! She
was such a bitch! Did Spike’s
sacrifice mean nothing? All those
words of earlier, the tears, the avowals of love – conveniently forgotten as
soon as she got her hands on Angel. Dawn
pulled her top lip up in a sneer reminiscent of the fallen champion, and stood
with her arms crossed, tapping her foot.
Angel sensed the teen
enter the room but made no move to release the Slayer.
At last Buffy was where she belonged, back in his arms.
His dreams often contained scenes such as this; they’d been all he had.
But not for much longer.
Now that he knew the right words to soothe her, she’d soon recover from
what was obviously battle trauma and come to her senses.
He tightened the embrace.
Buffy, however, was
beginning to feel uncomfortable, stifled. Still
raw from Spike’s passing, she’d taken comfort from anything that helped her
continue breathing; but this felt awkward; the arms around her were too bulky,
the chest her head rested on, too broad. There was no scent of leather and tobacco, no aroma of Spike.
She pushed herself away from Angel’s grasp, and looked at his face.
His arms still lingered around her, stretching the moment.
His brown eyes were fixed on her - hungry, hopeful, intense.
Buffy sighed and looked
away; he would never get it, never understand that she’d moved on.
In that instant, she came to a decision.
She’d intended remaining in LA until she’d figured out what to do
next. The priority was a settled
base for Dawn, somewhere to build a normal life for her, to temper the madness
of her creation and short turbulent life. And
god help her, Buffy was going to see that she got it.
But it could never be here. Despite
everything she’d said to Angel, he still hadn’t let go.
And he never would.
“Angel, I can’t do
this,” she started softly, “I’m sorry but it isn’t going to work.
I’ve told you part of me will always love you, but you’re never going
to accept that I’m not that besotted 16-year-old, are you?
I’m telling you this for the last time: Spike is the love of my life,
and always will be. So, I can’t be here, do you understand?”
The dark-haired vampire
stood up abruptly and turned away. Thrusting
his hands in his trouser pockets, he drew in a deep unnecessary breath.
“Buffy, I hear what you
say but what are you going to do? Wear
widow’s weeds for the rest of your life?
It’s just hard, you know?” He
continued talking to the wall, his back to her. She should be his, goddammit.
HIS! He wanted to turn and
force her to take back her words, lose himself in her and be damned.
He knew that by giving in to temptation he would lose his soul, and a
large part of him didn’t care, would delight in the slaughter and mayhem
Angelus would cause.
But she didn’t want
him. She was right.
She couldn’t stay. Having her here every day just out of reach would be too
much, would take too much control to keep the demon reined in.
Shoulders slumped in defeat he said, “Go. I’ll help you, whatever you
need. Just try to be happy, Buffy,
that’s all I ask.”
He turned back to her
then, a sad smile on his face. She
answered with a small sad smile of her own.
It was a leave-taking for both of them; of what once was, what could have
been, and what never would be.
Dawn watched the exchange
and felt humbled. She’d presumed
the worst; thought Buffy had forgotten Spike already.
Instead she’d realised the strength of her sister’s love for her
fallen vampire hero and seen the pain passing between the two former lovers as
they moved beyond each other’s reach. Both
had lost something precious; first love burned out and used up by the turmoil of
life.
“Buffy?” she said
softly, not wanting to startle her sister.
Buffy turned to her, eyes heavy and tired, face drawn and pale.
“Hey, Dawnie,” she
smiled. Closing the distance
between them, she hugged her taller sister.
“Come on, let’s go get something to eat. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”
****************************
Lorne was practically
skipping down the corridor, having discovered the extent of the firm’s
celebrity client list. The green
demon was talking animatedly into a sleek silver mobile, held to his ear with
one hand whilst the other one gesticulated wildly around him.
Trotting behind like a spaniel was a bespectacled assistant toting a
large ring binder filled with photographs and résumés of his illustrious
client base. Glancing to his right
as he passed Angel’s office, he noticed the hunched figure of the vampire and
stopped dead in his tracks. The
lackey ran straight into his back then retreated with a look of horror on his
face. Lorne didn’t even notice.
“Sweetie, I need to
call you back. Don’t worry about
Christine Aguillera, honey – we’ll make plans.
And Kelly, love to the family. Kisses!”
Lorne snapped the mobile
shut and handed it to the hovering assistant behind him.
What was his name – Gavin, Gareth…no matter.
“Honeykins, be a doll
and reschedule my appointments ‘til this afternoon. I’ve got a more pressing engagement.”
He rapped lightly on the
door. Receiving no answer he swept
in, deciding that the best way to reach the Broodmeister was to assault him with
the full-on Lorne charm offensive. He’d
surely get a reaction, even if it involved ducking flying objects.
“Sweetcakes, what
gives? You’ve got the old Lorne
Broodometer twitching into the red zone and it’s giving me a major wiggins.
Come on now, ‘fess up. It’s
good for the soul.”
Angel made a strangled
sound that could have, barely, been described as a chuckle.
“Not this soul.
This soul’s as good as it’s going to get – ever.”
“Whoa there, doom boy!
You get a heads-up on another apocalypse or something?
Redemption’s always just around the corner, you know that.”
“Is it?
Is it ever? Not for me,
Lorne, I’ve done too much evil to ever be redeemed. I should know that; but I
let myself believe that one day, the Shanshu…”
Shaking himself, Angel
shrugged. “It doesn’t matter
anymore. The Shanshu means nothing
to me.”
“Oh boy!
Have I wandered on to the set of a Swedish drama here?
Where’s Death with the chessboard?
Sweetcakes, call Lorney an old fool – but is this all down to the whole
Buffy ‘hearts’ Spike deal?”
Angel just raised an
eyebrow and smirked. “Direct hit
for the empathic demon.”
Lorne rolled his eyes,
dropping down onto the deep leather couch and smoothing the wrinkles in his
sky-blue suit. “Ok, pumpkin.
Spill.”
Angel started pacing back
and to, hands curling into fists and then unclenching as he walked.
One hand kept hovering up to his head as if to run his fingers through
his hair; but no – that would disturb the perfection of his straight-up locks.
Even in extremis – never the hair.
Eventually he stilled,
leaning back against the desk again, his arms folded.
“I just thought that
she’d always be there…a perfect love. I
know it was a long shot, but one day…I figured maybe I’d be redeemed,
deserve her. But I’ve been
kidding myself.”
He chuckled; a mirthless
chilling sound that made Lorne shiver.
“I called Spike an evil
soulless being. Ironic really.
He was never as wrapped up in malevolence as Angelus was, never truly
relished the torture. His humanity
remained intact even without a soul. He
was closer to being a man than I ever was.”
His voice tailed off, a
faraway look in his eyes.
Lorne softly spoke “And
you’ll miss him. He’s family,
Angel, there’s no shame in that. And maybe by accepting that, you’ll come to
accept everything else.”
“But I can’t!
Don’t you see – she loved me; she was a chink of light
in the darkness of my future. And now – that’s gone forever. Spike is dust
and yet it’s him she still loves, not me.
It’ll never be me… could have been but …”
Angel’s eyes were fixed
on Lorne’s, willing him to understand. The
depth of pain the vampire was revealing was astounding and heartbreaking.
Sighing, Angel continued.
“We had one day together, both of us human.
It was perfect.”
“What’s that?
Both human – in a dream you mean?”
Angel chuckled
mirthlessly. “No.
Not a dream. Real life with surround sound and full hands-on interaction.
No one knows of this, right?”
Lorne was looking at him
quizzically, head tilted in an all too familiar way. Angel closed his eyes to dislodge the image.
It caused a myriad of mixed feelings that he couldn’t bear to sift
through at the moment.
“There was a Mohra
demon; Buffy was here… Long story short – the Mohra crashes in, big fight, I
got demon blood in a cut, seems it had regenerative powers and *bam* I’m
human! It was miraculous; the taste
of food, the sunlight…”
Angel’s face was a
picture of ecstasy as he remembered the feeling of the warm rays on his skin.
A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“That’s where I found her, in the sunlight.
We kissed in the sunlight.”
“I’d been to see the
Oracles earlier and they told me I was released from my fealty to the Powers
That Be, that I could live a normal life. And
I had everything I wanted there in front of me.
Buffy.” Angel sighed.
“We spent the night together and it was all I could ever have dreamt it
would be, I was where I belonged.”
“But, true love
doesn’t run smoothly – isn’t that the old adage?
Cordy had a vision of me fighting the Mohra, so I went to kill it,
leaving Buffy in my bed. It told me
that the forces of darkness were coming and I wouldn’t be able to help, not as
a mortal. It was so strong, almost
finished me off: the only thing that saved me was Buffy who sailed in to my
rescue, the hero fighting evil on behalf of all mankind, even me.
And she was so distracted, looking out for me when she should have been
watching the demon. It almost had her, but of course, she won.”
“I was so scared that I
couldn’t protect her as a man, I went back to the Oracles, and asked them to
take it back, make me as I was so that I could help her face the hordes. The
bargain was struck. They agreed to
take the day back.”
“Oh,
Angel………..”
“And that’s exactly
what they did. None of that day
happened for anyone -- except me. The
Oracles thought the burden of memories was a suitable price to pay for such a
request, but I was glad to have those memories.
Something else to brood on, eh? I
couldn’t be just a man for her, Lorne; I had to be the big protector.
That’s what I wanted.”
“And how many times
have I seen her in the years since then, let alone actually protect her?
You can count them on the fingers of one hand.
The Greeks believed that the gods punish hubris, bring about your
nemesis. Well it’s true; Shanshu
or no Shanshu, I’ll never have her. She’s
lost to me.”
“And I loathe Spike for
that. He got her, and he didn’t
even believe her at the end. What a
waste.”
Lorne remained silent,
sensing that the vampire had more to say.
Angel pushed himself off
the desk and flopped down beside the demon.
“But that annoying bleached bastard was mine; my family.
He was all I had left, him and. ……Drusilla.”
He’d almost slipped up, mentioned Connor.
Lorne hadn’t noticed
the hesitation; he was stunned by the revelations.
“So yeah, you’re
right. I’ll miss him – and you repeat that to anyone and I’ll let Angelus
out to play with your entrails.” The
grin meant to soften that line had the opposite effect on Lorne who swallowed
slowly and carefully clasped his hands together in his lap.
Lorne thought for a
moment then with rarely glimpsed gravity said, “You know something, Angel?
There’s more than one way of being a man.
Don’t you think that doing right by Buffy now would be the manly thing
to do?”
***************************
Buffy and Dawn walked
along the main street leading away from Wolfram & Hart’s LA office.
They were chatting easily, not touching on the subject they both knew
they had to address but just enjoying each other’s company and the sunshine.
Fred had told them about a little café off the main street, about ten
minutes’ walk from the office, where all manner of sweet chocolatey goodness
was sold. The Summers’ genetic
make-up was big on the sugar-rush need, both girls going googly-eyed at anything
with double chocolate in the name.
The café was busy but
they managed to squeeze into a corner booth.
Fred hadn’t exaggerated the array of goodies on offer and it took them
a full five minutes to decide which sugar overload would be filling their
grumbling bellies. After settling
on a wedge of chocolate and strawberry cheesecake for Buffy and a double
chocolate coated, chocolate filled donut for Dawn, they also ordered chocolate
milkshakes and settled back to wait. The
drinks were soon placed on the table and the only sound was muted slurping and
“Mmmm” in stereo.
When the immediate
craving was satisfied, Buffy started tapping her fingers on the table, nervous
now she had to discuss the future with Dawn.
The Hellmouth implosion had taken most of their worldly possessions and
wherever they went they’d be starting over. She had no idea what her sister
wanted to do. There was nowhere she needed to be; there were unknown numbers of
Slayers who could take care of the world – she was off the hook.
Suddenly realising that she could go anywhere and do anything she wanted
made her dizzy. Where did she want
to go? It didn’t matter; wherever
she went he wouldn’t be there.
Dawn watched as Buffy’s
face revealed her thoughts. She
didn’t quite get what made her sister’s eyes widen, whether it be in shock
or delight, but she did know what memory caused her to come crashing back to
earth, eyes desolate and empty. Tentatively,
Dawn reached across the table and grasped Buffy’s small hand with her own
longer fingers. Buffy jumped,
startled by the contact and looked up to meet her sister’s concerned gaze.
A tremulous smile was on her lips and she was about to spill over into
tears. Luckily, at that moment
their food arrived and the next few minutes were taken up with eye rolling and
the lip smacking of orgasmic chocolate enjoyment.
Plates empty and tummies
full, both girls pushed the remains of the feast away and relaxed back into
their seats.
Taking a deep breath to
launch into the discussion, Buffy’s words stalled on her lips as Dawn slumped
forwards, banging her head on the table with a loud thump and sprawling amongst
dishes and spilled milkshake. Jumping
up and shaking her sister forcefully, Buffy started screaming as she got no
response. “Help!
Somebody call 911 – please, get an ambulance!”