Chapter 3:
Buffy answered the door dressed in sweats, her recently washed hair pulled back into a messy ponytail and her face scrubbed clean of any trace of make-up, but to Angel she had never looked more beautiful. She had a natural beauty, a glow to her skin, a sparkle in her eyes, an aura so bright that it positively shimmered around her, and his heart gave a quick jolt in his chest when he realized that he was seeing her in a way she hardly let anyone see her, dressed down and exposed, as if open and vulnerable, but somehow it only enhanced her splendor.
He used to tease her about her attire in the early years when they had been dating. She would show up for patrol, armed with an arsenal of weapons, dressed in designer shoes and a matching outfit, her nails painted prettily and her hair perfectly coiffed. He would always ask her if she was trying to look good for the demons that they killed and she would always come back with some retort about being the only slayer in history to patrol in style. Whether she realized it or not there was a trust in the way she was letting Angel see her, presenting herself unkempt as if she had nothing to hide. He felt like telling her that she didn't need all the frills, cosmetics, and accessories that was so popular amongst females. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that she was beyond perfect just the way she was, but he knew that if he breathed those words, if he described to her just what it was he was feeling at that moment, it would be like wearing his heart on his sleeve. And so he kept quiet, his eyes drinking in her beauty as he handed over the boxes of pizza he had picked up on the way to her home.
"Pizza delivery," he said with a smirk, attempting to lighten the mood.
She flashed him a smile, a quick, easy smile that lit her whole face and caused her hazel eyes to sparkle, a look that she only seemed to give it when he was near.
"You'll have to come inside if you want your tip," she teased back, swinging the door wide open to allow him room to enter.
"I see you dressed up for the occasion," he stated dryly, allowing her happy presence to touch his soul. It was amazing to him how easily she put him into a good mood, though he couldn't quite differentiate if the change was in response to her mood, or if it came within his own outlook, or both.
"This is the official 'break-up' outfit," Buffy stated matter-of-factly, attempting to look as serious as possible though she was having a hard time holding in her laughter.
"A break up outfit?" Angel repeated questionably, playing along with her seriousness.
"You've been around two hundred and some odd years and you haven't figured that there is an official outfit for that yet?" Buffy couldn't resist teasing as she took the boxes from him and walked towards the kitchen. "I'll guess I'll have to let you borrow the handbook on it."
He shook his head and sent her his amused half smile, secretly delighting in her banter and wit in a way that he had missed incomprehensibly during the years they had been lost to each other. One of Buffy's many endearing qualities was her ability to find humor in almost any situation. There had been so many times when they had been out on patrol in the past, fighting the most evil of demons and she would say something so off the wall that he couldn't help but suppress a chuckle in response, even if their situation was dire. In almost three hundred years of living he had never met another warrior like her, one who didn't let her calling take away her personality. He liked to think that her capability to do that had an effect on his own outlook towards his purpose, that somehow her influence managed to bring a fresh spin on a task they had both set out to undertake long ago. And that even during the times when they had been apart that part of her was still with him, as well as the part of her he carried in his heart.
But Angel was soon snapped out of his reverie when he caught sight of the younger Summers sitting forlornly at the kitchen table, her hair tangled and falling into her face while her tear stained cheeks looked pale and wan. Angel could feel the concern radiating off of Buffy as she flashed her sister a sympathetic smile, holding up the pizza boxes as offerings in a vain attempt to gain a smile in return. Without a word Angel went to stand in front of Dawn, his face serious as he crouched down in front of her and looked into her eyes.
"I never met the boy you were seeing, Dawn, but I know enough to know he didn't deserve you. If he had any intelligence at all he would see what a bright and beautiful person you are and hang on for dear life. Obviously he didn't have the brains enough to do that and frankly you shouldn't be associating with dim-witted people like that," he stated softly, relieved to see a ghost of a smile filter briefly across her face when he had referred to her ex as 'dim-witted.'
"Wish more guys would think the way you do," Dawn sniffed softly, moving to give Angel a quick hug in greeting.
"Your sister always tells me there is only enough room for one brooding vampire in the world," Angel replied with his wry smile, giving Dawn a brief squeeze in return as an even larger smile spread across her face at a phrase they both knew sounded entirely Buffy.
For her part Buffy watched the exchange with tears welling rapidly in her eyes despite her strong effort to hold them at bay. Her heart swelled at the easy way these two people who meant so much to her related to one another. It was an abstract moment, watching Angel with Dawn, a moment that was calming, surreal and oh so loving. It took everything in her to restrain herself from going and wrap her arms around him to thank him for being there, for providing comfort, and for simply being Angel. Her heart was touched beyond the means of verbal explanation, and yet her fear also started to grow inside her as well. It got harder and harder to be around Angel without falling more in love with him with each thing that he did. There were times when they would be talking, or doing some activity, that she would almost forget who they were and what had happened in their past. He evoked feelings in her long hidden, and desires in her long forbidden and yet he was a friend, a good friend, an excellent friend actually by any standards or scale and she knew that as long as she continually reminded herself of that, they would be okay.
"Let's move this to the living room," Buffy stated, trying desperately to collect herself while getting a handle of her morose thoughts as she grabbed plates and napkins and avoided eye contact with the soul filled vampire.
Angel immediately sensed a change in Buffy's demeanor. She was walking stiffly, her shoulders tense, the look on her face almost tragic. God how he wished he knew what she was thinking, what had troubled her so suddenly, and why it was that he had the sudden urge to comfort her as well as Dawn. But he held that desire in check, realizing without verbal communication that Buffy obviously didn't want to talk about it and settled instead for helping her set up things for their movie watching, sitting down on the couch next to the slayer while Dawn curled up in an easy chair.
It was almost torture to be sitting next to Buffy and not be able to hold her, not be able to wrap his arm around her shoulders, or grab her hand in his or move an errant strand of hair out of her eyes and tuck it behind her ear. All little actions most couples took for granted when the world existed just for them. He could feel the heat that radiated from her body from where he sat, he heard her breath as it left her lips, he could smell the vanilla from her body wash mixed in with the fresh floral sent of shampoo, like he always seemed to be in her presence he was surrounded by the essence of her, and he realized forlornly that this was going to be a long night.
He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't realize that the movie was running until it had already started, but when he did notice what was playing he bit back a groan, his humor coming back to him as he couldn't help but shoot the slayer an amused glance.
"I should have figured. An ice skating movie," Angel said, shaking his head while affectionately chuckling.
"What? Am I getting predictable in my old age?" Buffy asked, her own dark mood retreating to the shadows as she teased him back and sent him a faux hurt look. "This is a great movie, one of the best. It's called 'Ice Castles' and it is sheer cinematic genius."
"Uh huh, I'm sure it is," Angel responded with a grin, his heart swelling at Buffy's return to a lightened mood. They were once again in the safe zone, that place that they went where they teased each other, and laughed together, hiding safely from anything deeper or flocked with more meaning. "It can't be nearly as good as that movies we saw the other week, the one that took place in nineteenth-century England? What was it called? Tess of the D'Urbervilles?"
"Ahh, yes, I remember that movie. The one that could double as a cure for insomnia," Buffy replied jokingly, unable to contain her giggles at the mock glare he sent her way. "Are you sure you didn't just love that movie cause you were IN nineteenth-century-England?"
"My age had nothing to do with it," Angel intoned, giving Buffy a tolerant smile. "That movie was based on a classic novel. I can lend you the book if you'd like," he offered, thinking he knew what her answer would be.
"You mean read a book that isn't assigned in one of my classes?" Buffy asked, over dramatizing her shock at the very idea. "My teachers might think I'm cheating on them." But then Buffy's expression grew thoughtful as she regarded him silently for a moment. "Sure, I'll read the book, I can get it from you the next time I'm in LA."
For a few brief seconds Angel was in shock. Buffy never ceased to amaze him, just when he would think that he had her figured out she would say or do something that took him completely off guard. Buffy wasn't feeble by any stretch of the imagination, but she was modern, and classic novels just weren't in her preferred reading curriculum. He hadn't expected Buffy to agree to read the book when he had offered, but then again he should know by now to expect the unexpected with Buffy.
"I can read, you know," Buffy said when she observed Angel's facial expression, only slightly hurt. "If you say it's a good book I'm sure it's a good book. I trust you. After all, you were the one that turned me on to poetry."
Angel's heart gave a little jolt at her response, his eyes losing themselves in hers as he caught her gaze. He had no idea that he had had that kind of effect of Buffy. It was the first he had heard of her love for poetry and her willingness to read something just based on his recommendation. It seemed as though no matter how much he thought he knew her, or how well he thought he could predict her behavior, he still learned something new everyday, she still had the power to surprise him. Her maturity struck him once again, as it had so often during these past few months of their friendship. She was so different from the sixteen-year-old he had fallen in love with all those years ago, and yet she was the same and possessed the same inner fire. If it was possible considering the depth of his love for her already, he fell more in love with her as each moment passed.
They fell into a silence after that, Dawn already sleeping on the chair, worn out from a day of emotional highs and lows, and it was just Angel and Buffy alone in the darkness of the night, each one desperately longing to reach for the other. The movie continued to play, and they both had their gazes fixed on it, but neither one of them was really watching it, it held no more impact than a lost series of images that had no hope in capturing the two minds that were elsewhere.
Seconds turned into minutes and minutes turned into hours as the two friends sat thinking, both of them gradually allowing their own emotional overload to push them into a sleep filled haze. Buffy's eyelids started to droop uncontrollably as her consciousness filtered in and out. And somewhere in that half awake, half-asleep mode she adjusted herself to be more comfortable. Her head found the familiar hollow of a shoulder to lay on, her body curled up and wrapped itself around another body that fit so perfectly against hers while her palm grasped a hand full of sweater that lay against a hardened chest. Strong arms instinctively went up to enclose her within them, wrapping her in a cocoon of love and safety. A strong chin come down to tuck her head under it, and the soft, sleepy murmur of her name escaping Angel's throat was the last thing that Buffy heard before she slipped the rest of the way into a peaceful slumber.
Angel was the first to wake up, his mind slowly drifting into consciousness from the dark shadows in which it had inhibited. For a brief moment he didn't recall where he was or what he had been doing before sleep had come. All he knew was that he felt the weight of a warm and sweet smelling body against his and he automatically adjusted to bring the body closer to him, as if driven by instinct without need of thought. The heat she generated chased off the cold, creating a warm glow around them that Angel allowed his sleep filled mind to bask in, but more than that there was a separate, descriptionless feeling that crept up, one that settled into his heart, and sent his mind reeling. He felt pleasantly dizzy, and safe, and loved, and….home. And that was when the realization of where exactly he was and with who set it.
His first impulse was to pull her to him tighter still, to keep his arms around her snuggly while he watched her sleep. She felt so damn incredible, her body splayed out against his and molded so perfectly to him that it was as if she had been designed specifically with him in mind. The warm, sweet, and utterly intoxicating smell of her made him lightheaded, and he felt the gentle pressure of her chest pressing against his with each breath she took. The rightness of the moment struck Angel, so much that it brought moisture to his eyes. Everything was tranquil, and surreal, and just… the way it should be. His love for her squeezed his heart, creating a longing in him so deep that it frightened him, but a sigh crossed his lips when he realized that only sleep allowed them this pure, gentle, and unadulterated moment of closeness. She looked so peaceful, so content and comfortable, that Angel didn't have the heart to wake her, and so he just continued to hold her tightly, willing to face the awkwardness the morning would bring if it meant he would get to hold her close to his heart just a little while longer.
*****
"Slayer, you're an idiot," Spike said bluntly, spinning out of the way of the swing of the staff Buffy had navigated during their sparring match. "For someone who claims to be so damned enlightened on what she wants out of life you sure as hell are giving off all the signs of someone who is actually pent up and frustrated."
Buffy simply raised her eyebrow, moving to take another swing at the vampire while she felt her muscles cord with fury. She knew that she had been distracted, that her mind had been anywhere but on training, but she could still feel Angel's arms around her body, and what it had felt like to wake up in his embrace. It was all that she could do to be able to move at all. Waking up in his arms had felt so wonderful, so calm and peaceful, she had felt as if she never wanted to leave that safe haven of love and sanctuary that being with him had provided. Unfortunately when they both had woken up fully they both had come to their senses, neither one of them had known what to say to each other or how to explain just how they had wound up so tightly in each other's embrace. It had been one of the single most awkward and starkly painful moments of her life, waking up to a brief taste of heaven only to have reality cruelly intrude on the moment. And even more painful was that she knew that the memory was going to be with her a long time to come.
"And who died and made you a psychologist?" She asked as she parried out of his way, trying not to think about it further, "I don't seem to recall asking for your input just now."
"I'm simply making an observation, and don't worry, this one is on the house," Spike retorted, snorting in disgust. Despite their shady past, and his own admitted attraction for the slayer, the two of them had developed a comfortable rapport over the years. Spike often met with Buffy to help her train, and for some unknown reason Buffy seemed to trust him impeccably, her only requirement being that neither of them mention his love for her on their outings. And so he kept his mouth effectively shut, willing to take what he could and knowing full well that the slayer would never really return his love. That didn't stop him from being brutally honest in all other aspects of her life though, a trait she had come to appreciate in him as more time passed.
"You and the Poof prance around waving your 'we're just friends' banner for all to see when everyone else is taking bets on how long this will last before one of the two of you snaps. Its obvious you're still in love with the King of Bad Hair Days and all either of you are gaining out of this 'friendship' is one tense slayer and a serious case of blue balls for the 'Souled One'," Spike continued mercilessly, noting the ferociousness in which Buffy fought during their session, which clued him into the fact that something had happened the night before and he was willing to put money on the fact that that something had to do with his freak of a grand sire.
"Stay out of it Spike, I don't want to talk about it," Buffy mumbled quietly, a dimness appearing in her eyes that scared him. He was used to the slayer being fired up. She had been like that a lot lately, quiet and forlorn, walking around as if she were a zombie. Oh, there were moments when she still laughed or smiled, but they were getting fewer and far between, as if her longing for her soul's mate started to consume her from the inside out.
"Fine," He shot out, shaking his head. It killed him to push the slayer to realizing the truth of her relationship to Angel, especially since he would give anything to have her look at him that way she looked at his idiot father figure, but Spike had lived long enough, and knew enough about matters of the heart, to know that neither Buffy or Angel were ever going to be satisfied with friendship. Buffy had been in love with Angel for as long as Spike had known her. He knew that would never change, just as he knew that the slayer couldn't be happy until all was right in the world again regarding her relationship with Angel. "But just answer me this and I promise to shut the hell up."
"Okay, sure, ask away. Anything to get you quiet," Buffy shot out, her anger coming from the deep inner knowledge that Spike was right, and that he made valid points, which were truths she wasn't sure she was ready to face up to just yet.
"Do you consider honesty an important aspect of friendship?" Spike asked, his voice soft as he went into one of those deep moments of insight that he usually tried to keep hidden.
Buffy blinked, surprised by the question, but nodded her head emphatically to answer him. "Yes, of course it is. Honesty is very important in friendship, or in any kind of relationship."
"Then even if you and Angel do want to continue to just be friends, don't you think it's important to be honest with him about your feelings? Don't you think that, as a friend, he deserves to know?" the vampire inquired, noticing the dawning of realization light up in her eyes. "You keep this hidden and it will come out eventually, Slayer. It will fester inside you until you explode from the weight of it. Don't you think that it's better for Angel to find out now, out of your lips, then for it to come out gradually, pushing you both apart and ruining this thing you call 'friendship'?"
Silence struck as the full impact of Spike's words played heavily on her heart, causing her face to scrunch up in horrified emotion as she sunk quietly to her knees and her body started to shake. And strangely, the vampire known as Spike took no solace in opening up the slayer's eyes as he watched her have a semi break down in front of him, his own heart was too severely broken for that.
Chapter 4:
Her course had already been dismissed for minutes before Buffy had realized that class was over. All around her students were walking by, laughing, talking, looking to the world as if they had no problems or concerns, thus making it seem as though she was the only one in the universe who was severely screwed up in the head. Since her talk with Spike a few days prior her mind had been even more Angel driven than it had been before. Only now her feelings were even more complex, now instead of just experiencing longing, desire and unrequited love, she added guilt to the whole sleep-depriving elixir. Spike's words had had a profound effect over her, actually making her feel guilty for keeping such a powerful truth from a man who had in three months become the equivalent of a best friend.
The sleepless nights and nonstop stress where actually starting to have an effect on her. She was so tired, tired of feeling, tired of having to weigh one conflict in her life after another, tired of having to face questions that might not even have answers. She briefly wished she could just curl up into a ball and never have to face anything in the world again, but her own propriety and responsibility always kicked in during the most inopportune moments. The conflict in her dilemma did not stem from not knowing how she felt. She knew how she felt. She was earth shatteringly, mind numbingly, all-consuming, in love with the man she had been head over heels for since she was sixteen years old. However, the problem lay in the fact that her fear of coming clean, of opening herself up for either rejection or worse, more heartache, was as strong as her love.
She sighed as she slowly got up from her desk, realizing fully that she was no closer to finding a solution to her problem then she had been the day before, or the day before that. She doubted there would ever really be any clear-cut answers, and that any route that she chose to take would be a painful one. Angel was so much a part of her life now that she couldn't imagine that there had been a time just months before when they barely spoke to one another. He was the single most profound influence on her life. She had learned what it was to love unconditionally when she fell for him - the kiss in the ice rink, him trying so hard to assist in helping her think of regular things... saving each other - in various ways. Through him she had been taught honor, and the strength of conviction. He had taught her not to judge a soul by its cover, but most importantly, he had shown her what it was like to love somebody without holding anything back. His impact over her would always be there, whether they were friends or lovers, or simply two warriors struggling to make it in their own separate cities.
A hand on her shoulder startled her from her deep thoughts, and she whirled around to catch sight of the professor nervously trying to grasp her attention. For some reason the instructor look flustered, as if he had trepidation about approaching her, and Buffy's troubles fell to the wayside as she tried to wrack her brain to come up with reasons why the man had sought her out, reaching all sorts of fearful conclusions. Since returning from her second death Buffy had tried to play catch up in school, nearly doubling her class load so that she could graduate as soon as possible and get a job so that she and Dawn wouldn't have to live off of the money they had made from selling their mother's art gallery any longer. Sometimes it felt like she was biting off more than she could chew, her performance in her many classes suffering as a result. But telling a student she wasn't doing well would not make a teacher as nervous as the one before her now, and so her worry grew.
The professor was one of the younger staff members of the college, in his early thirties, with sandy blonde hair, and small wire glasses. In a way he reminded Buffy of a younger Wesley Wyndam Price, having the same awkward mannerism, yet a deep intelligence and a passion for the subject that he taught. He managed to give Buffy a small smile, putting her mind at ease just a little bit as he opened his mouth nervously to speak, his words silent at first yet growing stronger in volume the more he spoke.
"Buffy, the semester is almost over and we have but a few more classes left," he stated, continuing on his path with a rush. "I would be a fool if I denied that I haven't noticed you every time you're in my class room, the passion in which you speak, the way your eyes look as if you're far wiser than anyone your age should be. And since I will no longer be your teacher after next week I was wondering if you would perhaps join me for dinner one night in the near future," the professor finished, looking pleased with himself for getting it out, yet still anxious over what her answer would be.
For a second Buffy was too stunned to even respond properly, completely taken off guard and utterly not prepared for such a proposal. She had not seen this coming, never once could she recall the instructor singling her out or showing any sign of even the most minimal attraction. Yet here he was, asking her out on a date, and the only thing that could creep up in her mind was the ghost image of Angel dancing before her. An overwhelming feeling of dizziness overcame her, sending her world reeling. It had been so long since she had been out on a date, so long since she had attempted to give even the most minor notice of any male who wasn't Angel, and she wasn't sure she even wanted to attempt to try that now, when everything was already so complicated.
Buffy had come to the forlorn conclusion long ago, after her disastrous relationship with Riley had taught her that mortal men and vampire slayers were incompatible, that she was better off leaving the dating to those who weren't practicing cottas in graveyards at two in the morning. Plus, she had come to accept that she would always hold a place in her heart for Angel, even if she had known before their friendship had even started that, logically speaking, a renewed relationship with him would never happen. But that is where the problem lay. Angel was the first thing Buffy thought of in the morning, and the last thing she thought of at night. Even in friendship he consumed her thoughts with a vigor that bordered on domineering, and it was a situation that was entirely hopeless. Although her heart and body rebelled at the thought, maybe a date with another man was just what she needed to put her head on straight, and to finally clarify what it meant to have the romantic notion of being in love with someone who hadn't worked out relationship-wise in the past, and who was now a friend.
Though her blood screamed in agony, Buffy turned and gave the professor a painful nod, pushing her heart's protest to the back burner of her mind as she tried unsuccessfully to convince herself that everything would be okay.
*****
Angel smiled softly to himself as he picked up the phone to call Buffy, his heart doing the customary flip that always went hand in hand with the anticipation of hearing her voice. It had been days since he had talked to her last, Los Angeles picking the past week to have a sudden increase in demonic activity, but the memory of their last time together had far from left his mind. Each time when he woke up in the late afternoon to an empty bed he would unconsciously reach for her, the imprint of holding her tightly within his embrace as they slept was still so strong within him.
As much as he hated to admit it, it was getting harder and harder to be around her and still reign in his conflicting emotions. God how he wanted her. He wanted to wake up next to her every day, wanted to hear her laughter ring through the walls, wanted to smell and feel her hair as he buried his face in it, wanted to see her radiant smile whenever she was disposed enough to give it, and wanted to feel the gentle caress of her presence in his soul. Yet despite the need that gnawed so viciously at his gut, he couldn't imagine going back to the way things were before they decided to become friends, those rare and awkward meetings once or twice a year that had them both building up emotional walls so thick that they were miserable for weeks afterward.
The lesser of the two evils was being Buffy's friend, but little by little being close with her, yet not being able to be REALLY close with her, was driving him insane. For a brief second he envied his demon, a creature who had no concept of respecting someone else's wishes, who didn't concern himself with what was in the best interest of the world or those around him. He just took what he wanted and didn't let anything, like the possibility that the other involved might not share his feelings, stand in the way. But Angel didn't have such uncontained nerve which diligently kept him from crossing the boundaries that they both had set. And despite the acute torture of being with her and not being able to grab her into a fierce embrace, Angel couldn't wait to see her again.
His smile reached his eyes when he heard her call his name, the feminine lilt of her voice caressing him from across the miles, resulting in him taking a second to close his eyes and savor the peace it evoked within.
"How are you doing?" she asked after a pause, and alarm intruded Angel's tranquillity when he picked up on some sort of almost hidden desperation in her voice that she was obviously trying to conceal.
"Tired, but good," he replied worriedly, wondering if he had imagined it or if he was projecting some of his own emotions onto her.
"That's great," she said, again trying to make her voice sound light and carefree, but there was something there, something Angel couldn't quite put his finger on.
"I was wondering if you could make it to LA tomorrow after your last class? I'm supposed to go to a function that one of my contacts is going to make an appearance at and I've been given two tickets. I thought you might like to go," he questioned cautiously, still trying to gauge her mood.
There was a long pause on her end of the line, followed by an in drawn breath that he clearly heard over the telephone line.
"I can't," she responded softly, almost too softly, after many moments of silence, her voice shaky and upset. "I already have plans."
It wasn't so much her decline of his invitation that bothered him as much as it was the tone of her voice. She sounded withdrawn, scared, agitated, hesitant, and a whole multitude of other emotions he couldn't quite figure out. But she didn't provide any further explanation as to what it was that was going on, which only served to alarm him further.
"What's going on, Buffy?" Angel asked quietly, his own voice starting to crack.
"Nothing is going on," Buffy responded in a rush, answering as vaguely as possible yet still not volunteering any extra information.
'She doesn't want to tell me,' Angel thought, an idea that stung him deeply. No matter what status of their relationship, he had always had the capability to get a handle on her emotional state, he could sense when she was holding something back, and this was very definitely one of those times.
"Something's up, Buffy. Just tell me," he persisted, mentally bracing himself for a catastrophic answer.
He heard a slight moan of protest, barely audible, indicating that he had backed her into a corner that she didn't want to be trapped in.
"It's no big deal, I just have a date tomorrow night," she whispered, taking in another deep breath as she awaited his response.
And with that one sentence Angel's world came crashing down. A sudden darkness filled him, causing him to silently scream in anguish. In a matter of seconds he felt consumed by pain, as though a thousand needles were suddenly piercing his skin. His heart constricted, feeling like it was being squeezed tightly and he had to swallow the lump that formed in his throat, shock permeating his daze. It took him awhile to remember that he didn't have a claim on Buffy, that he was supposed to be the supportive friend, and although it shattered his heart to do it, he fought to keep his voice steady as he voiced his support.
"That's great, Buffy. I hope you have a good time," he managed to squeeze out, proud that his voice didn't waver from the agony that his soul felt.
"Thanks," she replied sadly, her own pain evident, though this time he was too distracted to pick up on it. "I'm sure it will be…fun."
"I should probably go," Angel stated, longing with every fiber within him to end the nightmarish conversation and retire to his room to grieve by himself.
"Okay, I'll talk to you later," she barely got out, an underlining crack palpable in her tone.
"Yeah, later," he said, holding it together long enough to place the phone back on the receiver before his body began to shake, the age old helplessness of feeling Buffy slip through his fingers returning to haunt him.
*****
Miles away the small slayer put her hands on the table by her bed to keep herself from falling, a wrack of sobs threatening to consume her being. She hadn't wanted to tell him about the date. Her plan was to go out for the evening and try to assess her feelings about everything, see if it was possible to have a good time with someone other than Angel, and see if her heart ever really did have a chance of moving on. But he had forced it out of her and she had found that she couldn't bring herself to out right lie to him, and now, as cruel and unkind as fate was, she had got the answer to the question that had burned her consciousness for over three months. Angel really didn't see her as anything more than a friend, a fact that was finally proven to her by his supportive yet uninterested way of dealing with the news that she was going on a date.
Giving herself up to her grief, Buffy sunk to the floor, her body heaving as she willed the ground to open up and swallow her whole. And yet the only one she could think to blame for this earth shattering revelation was herself for allowing things to get this far, and for allowing her heart to be affected by something that Angel really had no clue was going through her mind. She was so lost to her distress that she didn't hear her bedroom door slowly creak open by someone who was alerted of the crying through the thin walls, nor did she hear the light tread of footsteps that tentatively walked towards her.
Dawn Summers sank to her knees beside her sister, reaching out to embrace the slayer in a tight hug as she let Buffy cry it out on her shoulder. Even in their troubled state the irony of the situation didn't escape the Summers women, both of them realizing that their roles were now reversed and that this time it was Dawn providing the comfort. Running her small hands over her sister's hair, Dawn tried to figure out what catalyst had put Buffy in this state, though she had a pretty good idea that his name started with an 'A' and ended with a 'L'. He was the only man alive that could get the slayer to hurt this deeply, but he was also the only man alive, in her own biased opinion, that was good enough for her sister.
Like everyone else, Dawn had wondered how long the front of friendship was going to last, only she had assumed that it would end with Buffy and Angel making with the smoochies, not one of them crying on their bedroom floor as if their life had ended. The younger yet recently wisened Summers waited patiently until her sister pulled herself together, the slayer eventually lifting her tear stained face to meet Dawn's gaze.
"You should never feel bad about loving people, Buffy. Loving people makes us better, makes us complete," Dawn said quietly, returning Buffy's own advice to her in full. And for a moment Buffy saw herself in her sister's young eyes, connecting with her through their shared pain. They really were so much alike, both of them learning and growing together as the world threatened to consume them. The corner of the slayer's lips turned up slightly in a sad smile as the night closed in around them. They settled quietly, side by side, on the floor, just staring off into space as the light twinkle of the moon and the stars crept in through the window and bathed them in an earthly glow.
Chapter Five:
Buffy had tried to be in the right mind set for the date. She smiled at all the right places, and laughed at all the right times, and she let her date delve into his past and his interest despite her inner protest that the man she really wanted to be having a conversation with was miles away in LA. The date had been doomed from the start, she knew that now. Never could she have imagined feeling so alone despite her companion's more than casual interest in her attention. So many times she caught her mind wandering, and so many times she had to snap herself out of it, using every bit of will power that she possessed to force herself to remain focused, only to lose that focus again a few minutes later.
The food, although prepared and delivered by one of Sunnydale's most esteemed restaurants, tasted like sawdust against the roof of her mouth, and her heart, bruised and tattered, was too devastated to care. A heaviness settled in her, as if dark clouds were accumulating over her head the way they did in cartoons when a character was at a low point. And as the evening wore on, and the conversation continued, she had more and more trouble breathing, more and more trouble keeping her head from spinning. Desperately she reached for her water glass, her face pale, and her eyes sunk, her date regarding her with concern.
To distract herself Buffy looked around at the other couples surrounding them, happy people who were looking at their partners as if they were the only other people in the room. For a brief moment Buffy wanted to escape, wanted to run from the stifling confines of the room and the way too cheerful crowd and find a quiet place out in the darkness of the night to breath and weep. She looked sorrowfully at her date, a nice man who had agreed to her request to meet her at the restaurant, had brought her a rose, and pulled out her chair for her when they sat down. He kept looking at her appreciatively, as if he admired her beauty, and her presence at his table, and Buffy couldn't control the bile that rose to her throat from her already acidic stomach because this wasn't the man she wanted looking at her like that….it was the wrong man, the wrong soul.
Angel's image flashed continuously through her mind, like an unending projector show, a deep kind of guilt nearly choking her in its intensity. She kept hearing Spike's words to her from a few days prior, his insight about honesty and how it applied to relationships. Only now she realized that it wasn't just Angel whom she was being dishonest to, she was also being dishonest with herself. A certain, frightening, and profound thought filtered into her mind, one that made her realize that the whole purpose of this date had been a mute point, because the whole purpose was to see if she'd have a good time with someone other than Angel and the truth of the matter was that it didn't matter if she could or if she couldn't have a good time with someone else, the point was that it was Angel that she wanted.
"Are you okay?" her companion asked, breaking Buffy out of her trance as he regarded her with concerned eyes. A pang went through Buffy as she realized what she was doing, and like Riley before him, she had dragged a third party into the mess that was her social life, only this time it was not too late to back out and set things right before innocent by standers got involved. And at that point, through her own desperation to get rid of the guilt that haunted her, and as a means of freeing her troubled conscience, Buffy finally worked up the courage to do something about the terrible mess in her life that had gone on for far too long.
"I'm not feeling very well," she stated softly, meeting the man's gaze. "And I wasn't being very fair to you by agreeing to go out on this date. I'm in love with a man who has become my best friend, I have been since I was sixteen years old," she finally admitted out loud, her heart pounding so loudly she thought it might break free of her chest.
Her date's face scrunched in shocked hurt, though later, after a brief silence had passed, something close to respect could also be seen filtering across his features. "Thank you for being honest with me. I won't ask you why you agreed to go out with me in the first place, or why it is you're with me and not the one that you want, I'll only say that he is a lucky man and I think I'll leave now while I still have my pride intact."
"I'm so sorry," Buffy said softly, tears filling her eyes as she moved to stand up and grab her purse.
"Don't be," her date replied with a pained smile. "Its rare to find someone your age who knows what they want. I wish you the best of luck in finding whatever it is that you are looking for," he finished, also standing and reaching in to his pocket to pay the bill as they both turned and left out the door.
"Thank you," she responded, a small smile filtering across her face as she held out her hand for a handshake. "I hope I find it too."
Her date returned her gesture and then turned to leave, heading for his own car while Buffy headed for hers, never looking back. And Buffy had a brief moment of panic, deciding that she didn't want to be alone, she didn't want to keep these feelings that were slowly killing her little by little inside any longer, she just couldn't do it anymore. Even if it meant rejection it was time to be honest, with herself and with the man she truly did love, wholly and completely. A sudden determination entered Buffy's conscious as she came to another courageous decision. When she got into her car and started driving, it was not her house that she headed to but rather a highway that would lead her to LA.
*****
Angel lay in bed, staring at the ceiling of his room as if it held the secrets to how to mend his broken heart. He had been laying there for hours, unmoving, lost to a harsh tidal wave of hurt, confusion, and jealousy. Logically he knew that he had no right to feel this way. He and Buffy had made a pact of friendship, one that disallowed the concept of romantic interest, no matter how much his heart longed otherwise. It was him who had made that first move to call her all those months ago to strike up companionship, and it was him, as he did so often when she was near, who allowed his deep feelings for her to consume him. For months they had tip toed around each other avoiding any real issues, but getting to know each other on a level that they hadn't even done previously in their relationship when the earth revolved just for them.
But he loved her. He loved her to the point where it brought bittersweet distraction into his life. Loved her to the point where he actually felt alive again each time she was near, and loved more completely, and more fully than he had ever dreamed it was possible to love another. His feelings for her were so strong that four years of separation had done nothing but strengthen his devotion, he treasured her enough that in two and a half centuries she was the only woman who had ever had any true claim on his heart.
And right now she was with another guy, giving a stranger that brilliant smile of hers that turned his heart, and that devil-would-care gleam in her eyes that would cause his head to spin. In the three months they had started meeting with each other again Buffy had not so much as gone out on one date. He over heard Willow mention once that Buffy's apparently celibate life went back the last couple of years. In a way he took it for granted that things would remain that way, that while they kept each other busy, and continued to pursue their friendship, he wouldn't have to face Buffy falling in love with another. That, or he had just chosen not to consider the possibility.
He wondered if everything was actually working out for the best, if this was not some sign from the Powers that Buffy was to remain forever out of his grasp. In moments when he was being truly honest with himself he knew that a lot of the reasons he had left Buffy four years ago still applied. He still couldn't take her into the sunlight, he still couldn't give her children, or normalcy, or a house with a white picket fence and neighbors named Fred and Ethel. There were no guarantees that his shanshu would even happen in Buffy's lifetime, but damn it he was so tired of loving her yet having to remain at arms reach, so tired of ignoring emotions and feelings for her that were so ingrained in him that they were a part of his very being. He wanted her so desperately, wanted to lose himself in her, wanted to grab her close and just allow everything around them to disappear into nothingness. He wanted to feel whole again, complete.
However, it wasn't what he wanted that mattered, ultimately it was Buffy's happiness that was most important to him. He had put Buffy's well being above his own before and he would do it again in less time than it would take for a heart to beat. And what Buffy wanted didn't necessarily coincide with what he wanted. Cordelia had told him to look closer at Buffy feelings for him, and he had, well, at least he thought he had. There had been a brief moment when they had woken up in each other's arms, a silent, tense free space in time where their eyes met and locked and he lost himself over to the torrid depths of hazel sea that he found in her gaze. It was one of those perfect moments in time, untouched by outside pressures, where all that existed was the two of them, and all that mattered was the bond that existed between their souls. But moment had passed, and had been followed by the cruel realization that they had just unwittingly crossed the boundary between friendship and passionate love.
Buffy had been flustered afterwards, had shakily got up and moved around, occupying herself with anything and everything she could get her hands on while avoiding Angel's gaze. He had wished desperately that he could have read her mind at that moment, just like he wished desperately that he could read her mind now. With a mournful smile he remembered a time when Buffy could read minds, and how she had come to him and tried to read his, though his vampiric nature hid his thoughts in unreadable shadows. He had told her then that if she had a question she should just ask him, and he wondered now if he should take his own advice. Perhaps the only way to get a peace of mind out of this whole scenario was for him to be honest with Buffy about his feelings, maybe then he would have some sort of release from the burden that he carried.
It occurred to him that even two and a half century year old vampires learned something new everyday, and that perhaps it was past time to finally put his feelings out there versus keeping them hidden and letting them fester. It also occurred to him that both he and Buffy had spent the last four years growing up, and maybe, just maybe, they would both manage to make it out of this conversation unscathed, their friendship, at the very least, still intact.
With a new purpose the vampire rose from his bed and grabbed his coat, heading out towards Sunnydale with his trademark stubborn determination.
*****
The costal highway between Sunnydale and Los Angeles was dark and windy. On one side lay the ocean, appearing almost pitch black in the darkness save the small glimmers of light shining from the surface that reflected off the moon. On the other side lay small hills and grass valleys, innocent and pleasant by day, but intimidating by night, adding to the overall tension that was thick in the air. The other cars on the road were sparse, which served as a comfort to Buffy as she clutched her steering wheel with white-knuckled strength, and tried unsuccessfully to keep her heart rate from racing.
The truth was that she had no idea what she was going to say to Angel when she got there. The move to go see him and finally admit her love for him had seemed like such a good idea at the time, but now she felt that old, familiar doubt return and that instinct to protect and shelter her heart from breaking yet again. Like countless other times in countless other scenarios she wondered if she should retract her desire to bare her soul. It would be so easy to turn back, easy to pretend that her earlier revelations did not change anything in her situation and that she could just go about her life like normal. But even despite her ever escalating fear she knew that was a lie, she knew deep down inside her being that she had to do this, as if some unknown force was leading her down the highway at this particular time of night and for this particular reason.
The head lights of an oncoming car startled Buffy out of her reverie, almost blinding her vision with the intensity of the brightness, and a faint tingling feeling crawled its way up her spine, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to rise. As the car got closer so did the familiarity of it and Buffy quickly pulled over to the side of the road as she finally recognized it entirely, her heart nearly jumping to her throat as she desperately tried to gulp down air and watched as the car slowed down and spun a u-turn, coming to park directly behind hers.
The seconds ticked by ruthlessly as Buffy stepped out of her car and Angel stepped out of his, their eyes catching and meeting despite darkness, and despite the few feet of land that separated them, neither one able to tear their gazes away. The rest of the world became sucked in a vacuum, and suddenly there were no crashing waves, or traveled highways, no rolling hills, and dizzying darkness, there was only Buffy and Angel and this lifeforce of emotion that sprung and hung between them with tangible clarity.
The distance that separated them suddenly felt like light years as Buffy felt her heart expand to encompass her whole body. The need to run to him, to wrap her arms around him and squeeze as tightly as she possibly could became a desire so intensely powerful within her that it threatened to take over all other functions of her body. The need to breathe, the need to eat, the need to survive, all secondary in nature, all ignored with one glance in his eyes. In what seemed like languid and slow movements Buffy launched herself forward at the same time that Angel did, the two of them meeting each other in the middle as he swooped her up and spun her around and she clutched onto him for dear life.
She pulled back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes and lose herself in his gaze. A tidal wave of emotion existed in the chocolate depths of his eyes, drawing and sucking in her with hypnotic power. There was love there, and passion, and desire, and a number of other feelings that didn't have names, but were strong, powerful, and all consuming, existing all for her. They stood like that for a long time, him holding her up and off the ground, her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders as if she was afraid that if she lightened her hold he would disappear from beneath her. They didn't need words at that point, the feeling in the moment, the light in their eyes, the joy in their faces, and the suggestion in their body language gave it all away: their hearts, their minds, months of holding back something that neither one could deny any longer.
Slowly and sweetly Buffy lowered her lips towards his, stopping just a breath away from contact before ceaselessly pushing forward and meeting his kiss fiercely with her own. The power of the contact reverberated through the two of them, sending shock waves all the way through them. A well of pure feeling rose up in Angel, starting in his stomach, and reaching his throat. He choked back a sob as he continued to kiss her with as much strength as he could muster, lost to the dizzying whirlwind that was his deep and abiding love for the woman he held.
Buffy found herself shaking, overcome by the force of it all, not really believing that it was really happening and that this wasn't just a really vivid dream on her part. She felt so incredibly light headed, as if she could float up into the stars, but Angel and his love kept her grounded, the way it always had. He was her tie to the world, the very epitome of her love in flesh form. Time passed by in dizzying spades before Buffy pulled back again, the tears in her eyes glistening under the light of the stars.
"I don't want to be just friends anymore," she said softly, delighting in the smile that crossed his face and the light that gleamed in his eyes as a result of her words.
"I don't either," he replied, equally soft while he pulled her to him even tighter still, thinking even then that it wasn't tight enough.
A sparkle entered Buffy's eyes, her heart free and her spirit lifted. She gazed at her lover with adoration in her features as she couldn't help but allow the giddiness of the moment to caress her soul.
"Lovers, turned friends, turned lovers… Do you think we'll ever get this right?" she asked, gently teasing though there was a seriousness to her question.
"I think that this time we have a chance, Buffy, and I don't ever intend to let go," he replied, his eyes severe as they gazed back at hers unwaveringly.
That was all the answer she needed before meeting him in another kiss, sealing their fate once and for all.
"What is a friend? A single soul dwelling in two bodies." ~ Aristotle (384-322 B.C.)
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