DISCLAIMER: Think about it for a minute.
TIMELINE: After 'Crush' and 'The Thin Dead Line'.
SPOILERS: Beware season 5 spoilers ahead.
SYNOPSIS: Angel and Buffy share yet another dream.
FEEDBACK: Well, that would depend on whether you want to see more of this series < g >.
RATING: PG

Hi Angel. So, guess what Spike told me...

Hi Angel. Turns out there must be something in the blood that makes your line go for Slayers...

Hi Angel. Saw Dru again, but Spike offered to...

Hi Angel. Had another adventure with chains...

Hi Angel. Has Spike always been like this or...

Hi Angel.

* * * * *

I just didn't think that Angel would welcome the news that the one of his progeny he really hates (and vice-versa, if past torture is anything to go by) has fallen in - God, I can barely think it - *love* with the... what am I? Former girlfriend? Ex-lover? Estranged love of life?

Well. Me. And despite that Angel getting mad and coming and dusting Spike currently seems a very attractive prospect, on the grounds that then I won't have to do it, I have my reasons for not wanting to mention it just yet.

I did tell Spike to go away. Firmly. Okay, probably won't have been successful, but he might at least keep his distance for a while.

Part of me thinks that there is something icky about dusting someone I know while helpless. With Angel's current state, he'd probably have fewer compunctions about that, but I wouldn't quite feel comfortable. This could change.

Repulsive as I find the notion, Dawn seems to find some sort of comfort in him. He hasn't tried to hurt her (my mind adds 'yet') and maybe soon she'll need that.

How do I explain it to the gang? 'Yeah, Angel knew about Spike through... osmosis. No? Okay, I've been sharing dreams with him and not telling any of you for about five, six months now, but don't worry about it.' I think not.

And, I'm scared maybe he won't care. That maybe I'll go 'Spike, yeah, he's in love with me' and it just won't matter to him. He did tell me to move on, and though I'm pretty sure he meant 'to alive people', he might not mind.

I don't want to hear that. Selfish as it is, I want it to upset him for me to be with somebody. I want him to hate the thought that I'm finding - making - a home in someone else's arms as much as I still hate the thought that he might be.

So... silence on that particular can o' worms. I'll tell him about the paper I failed to hand in or something. No doubt he'll have some gloom to share. I comfort myself with the thought that if it gets really bad he'll call, or write, or something... and then I see him and think 'but he hasn't'.

I don't even want to think that we haven't, he hasn't, hit rock bottom yet. How much lower is it possible to get?

* * * * *

I kind of wanted to show him the New and Improved Bronze, and he must still be completely disinterested, because that's where we were. I quite impressed myself with the quality of the surroundings, actually; I'vce only been there that once, but I registered a lot of detail. I expected it to be lost on Angel (not just because depression: because hey, guy) but I liked feeling that he was being kept up-to-date with the Buffyverse.

I guess that's what this whole thing is about; it certainly can't be for the purposes of giving us both a boost anymore. He's worse every time he shows up.

Tonight I was shooting some pool and he joined in the game, which was a surprise because I didn't even know he *could* play pool.

We didn't speak in the time it took for him to win, which actually wasn't very long; my proficiency with long, wooden sticks lies in other areas.

"How are you?" I said eventually, studiously chalking my cue and not looking at him.

"Lonely," he said briefly.

Could that have been some honest vulnerability? Knowing I was probably the only person currently seeing this side of him - possibly the only one who cared who knew it wasn't completely buried - gave me a smug feeling of power... childish, not something I was particularly proud of, but real nonetheless. But with power comes responsibility (the world according to Spiderman). I work with that every day of my life; the power of the Slayer, and the duty to the world. And now it's the power of the woman, and the responsibility to the guy I love.

It balances, in a weird way. It's why it was a 'no' to Spike (along with the just NO), and really a 'no' to Riley, and probably to any other prospective date; I can't take on that responsibility to another man, another relationship, while I'm still feeling it to Angel. And I'm not prepared to let that slide.

"Scariest thing there is," I quoted at him, wondering if he remembered that conversation. I mean, I did, but then I haven't forgotten many of our conversations. He really isn't a big talker, but what he says is always right on the ball... I learnt early it was smart to pay attention, because his pearls of wisdom shone bright. (That's a pretty good phrase. Maybe not so much if you consider what pearls are made of, though. Well... something good and beautiful out of a little piece of crap... I guess it could work as a metaphor for Angel's life, where he gets that wisdom *from*).

He shot me a quick smile; he remembers.

"It really is," he agreed.

"Something brought this on?" I asked, leaning over the table and lining up my shot.

"My informer skipped town," he said. "Can you believe that? I'm bothered about some demon leaving because it's practically the only contact I have."

Not such an unusual situation. He didn't have a whole lot of contact while he lived here, either. I think there was pretty much me and... me. Occasionally assorted bits of Scooby gang.

"That's it?" I said doubtfully. I didn't want to say, but that is kind of pathetic.

He heaved a sigh from dead lungs.

"I saw Cordy..." he started reluctantly.

"And?" I persisted. If she's done anything to him...

"She said I should stay away from them," he said, staring with great concentration at the pool table.

How insensitive? If I admit it, knowing Cordelia has been in LA with Angel has actually been a comfort this past year, until this whole thing blew up. Whatever I may think about her, she does have hidden (very hidden) depths and she wasn't - always - such a bad girlfriend to Xander. From what Angel used to tell me here I know she's been supportive to him. Then bam, he makes a couple of, okay quite large, mistakes and she's nowhere?

No doubt she's got her reasons, feels justified, whatever. But all I care about is him.

However, Angel doesn't need to hear any of that; just that I'm still here.

"When did you see her?" I probed gently, trying to gauge whether he seriously didn't want to get into it or needed to.

"In the hospital. Wesley got shot by a zombie policeman." He waved a hand, dismissing the zombie policemen, which was okay because I know from zombies and details weren't necessary, or too interesting, probably. "I'd been watching them for a while, actually."

"Why?" I said.

"Something Merl - the demon informant - said," Angel told me, "and with what the host said... I wanted to check they were okay."

"Are they?" I said.

"Fine," he said. "They don't need me, remember?"

"She probably didn't mean it," I offered quietly. I know pretty well how, and why, you push people away when you need them.

"She meant it," he said. "It... kind of hit me, you know? I should have kept avoiding them. I was okay when I didn't..."

"Know they were carrying on without you?" I said sympathetically.

"Yeah," he said. "We were... we were family. And when I saw them all at the hospital - *they* were family."

I was silent. I still wasn't happy with Cordelia, but he did turn them away for the purpose of not having connections...

Unfortunately, he read my silence correctly.

"You think I'm getting what I deserve."

"No," I said slowly. "I think her reaction was understandable for your... ill-advised but also understandable actions."

"It amounts to the same thing," he pointed out stoically. I could almost feel him pulling in on himself, wary of the censure I hadn't meant to give.

"Not exactly," I said. I came around the side of the table to rest my hand on top of his, clenched on the smooth green felt. "I'm on your side, Angel. Always. You know that."

His gaze met mine, and the calm resolve had fallen away from the depths of his eyes, replaced by a heartbreaking little-boy-lost confusion.

Identity crisis. Maybe it's because I've had so many of them that suddenly people with them are gravitating to me: Dawn. Angel. Spike.

"I screwed up, didn't I?" he said, straightening his hand out and lacing his fingers with mine.

"You did," I said, safe in the knowledge I wasn't telling him anything he didn't know. "But they did too. Doesn't mean you can't fix it."

He shook his head. "I can't."

"You won't," I said.

"I still have things to do," he said steadfastly. This translates to 'vamps to dust and a law firm to screw over.'

I don't agree with him, but what can I do? He's two hundred and forty seven years old. If you can't be left to screw up at that age, when can you?

"If any of it involves Dru I wouldn't hold your breath," I advised. Well, actually he could hold his breath, seeing as how he doesn't in fact need to breathe.

"What do you mean?" he said.

"She paid Sunnydale a visit," I informed him. "She wasn't good enough to leave a copy of her itinerary, but I don't know that she'll be coming back to LA."

"Are you okay?" he said, looking me over anxiously, as if any injuries I might have gotten would suddenly manifest themselves.

"I'm fine," I assured him.

"Was she good enough to take Spike?" he asked.

No no no, bad subject.

"No," I said simply. What with him being in love with me and all...

"I did uninvite him from my house," I said.

"About time," Angel muttered. "You should have done that over two years ago."

"My mom kind of likes him," I offered weakly.

Angel politely refrained from making any comment on that, but I could tell he wanted to. He's entitled, really; my mother tolerates an evil vampire who'd be killing if he could, but doesn't like him. Of course, this is mostly because of the whole Angelus thing. I guess I could have explained our situation better. Something along the lines of 'well, I love him anyway'; I don't think I've ever talked about Angel and me to her at all. Even when we split up. She provided some ice-cream, though.

"You should just stake him," Angel said darkly. "It's not like you wouldn't be justified."

"I just feel weird about staking something that can't fight back," I said. Moving swiftly on...

Angel didn't say anything, just took a shot in the neglected game. The cue ball bounced off the table and smashed on the floor. Must have been some power behind that shot.

"At least we won't have to pay for that," I said, staring at the powdered remains of the ball.

"Considering it's not real," he said.

He laid his cue down on the table and said, "I've got to go."

"Why?" I said. "It's not like you have anyone to get back to."

"It's time," he said, giving me a reproachful glance. Open mouth, insert foot.

He hesitated before me and then instinctively, simultaneously, we moved into each others' arms. He hugged me tightly enough for it to momentarily hurt strong Slayer bones, pressing his face into my hair. Being weak, just for a moment, as I held him to me and let him. Then he stepped back, out of my arms and into reality.

Spike's embrace may be that cold... but they could never hold that warmth for me.

Go to the next story Though Your Dreams Be Tossed and Blown

Send feedback to Esmerelda

Back to the Fanfiction Archive