|
F E A T U R E D F I C O F T H E M O M E N T
INDEX
BRE'S ARCHIVE
AUTHOR'S ARCHIVE
INTERACTIVE
AUTHOR
SITE
 O N L Y T I M E S E R I E S B Y B R E P A R T N I N E "And you said you loved me..." "Stop," Buffy said in an almost non-existent voice, his last words almost the last straw. "Please stop..." "And then I killed our baby... God, Buffy..." Buffy looked up at her name and crinkled her face in an attempt to stop herself from crying. "Angel..." Buffy said, and Angel responded by standing. "I’m so sorry, Buffy. I... I’m so sorry. I never had any right to do that... I’m so sorry." Buffy finally let a sob free and wrapped her arms around herself tighter. She didn’t hear Angel moving until he was in front of her. And then his arms were around her as she cried. Collapsing into his arms, Buffy let it all loose. She distinctly felt a few hot tears rain on her skin as they sank to the floor. Buffy’s fingers clutched Angel’s shirt tightly, pulling him closer to her as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Buffy was practically sprawled across his lap as he buried his face into her neck. Buffy felt a deep shiver running down her spine as more of his tears hit her bare skin. They clung to each other, both of their pain from the past coming to the surface as Angel continued to mutter his apologies. His voice seemed to only make Buffy cry harder and she pushed her face into his shoulder roughly as a sharp sob sprang from her lips. "God, Buffy," Angel whispered, inhaling gently, her soft scent filling his senses instantly. She smelled just like he remembered. Vanilla... cinnamon... just Buffy. His chest swelled as his heart scattered with guilt. "I’m sorry." Buffy felt her heart freeze at his words. She so badly wanted to say that it was okay, that he was forgiven and they could move on, knowing things were alright between them. But they weren’t. She wasn’t near ready enough to forgive him for what he had done to her, no matter how badly he needed it right at that moment. Pursing her lips, Buffy pushed her face against his arm, turning away from him and opening her eyes to stare at the wall blurrily. What was she doing? She felt his arms tighten and she knew he was waiting for something by the way he held his breath and paused at the nape of her neck. What was he waiting for? An apology back? Her permission for him to release all of the guilt he seemed to be holding in? She knew she couldn’t do that. At least not right now. Maybe never. And yet, despite her strong desire to hate him in that moment for what he had done to her and being for thinking so goddamn selfishly, she couldn’t help herself as she pulled him closer, urging him to wrap his arms around her tighter despite the fact that she wouldn’t give him what he seemed to need. This was still the man that she had first fallen in love with - and still loved. The man who had been her first and who had been the only one to impregnate her with a child she knew she would have sacrificed the world for. Buffy couldn’t believe this was happening. Hadn’t it been just a few short hours ago that she was moving on, forgetting Angel and not remembering the fact that she still had feelings for him? When she had been in Riley’s arms? But it seemed like such a long time ago as she was catapulted back into the past, back to a time where she had been like this all the time. In his arms. In his arms all the time... God... It just felt so... right. "Buffy..." "No, please..." Buffy interrupted. "Please don’t talk... just..." Buffy’s words left her throat as he lifted his head from its resting place, his heavy breath tickling her ear as he rubbed his cheek against her throat, his light stubble scratching against her skin as his warm tears smeared along her temple. Almost on instinct, she turned towards him. Buffy wasn’t thinking as she moved. It was as if everything was in slow motion, as things tended to be where he was concerned. But this was different. He was different. Things had happened over the years that had changed them and when they had suddenly been thrust together as they had... Buffy felt her body tense as he rested his cheek against hers, pausing for a moment. Her breathing became almost erratic and she could hear her heartbeat in her ears. They moved as one towards each other’s lips and when they finally touched, it was as if a fire had started. Something she hadn’t felt in years raced through her and her body reacted almost instantly. Opening her mouth, Buffy invited his tongue to play with hers and he responded just as eagerly. As his fingers pulled through her hair, mussing it, memories rushed back to her and she felt a staggering feeling grip her heart and squeeze. She suddenly felt like she was back at his apartment on some random day, accepting his sexual touches and mistaking them for loving caresses. Everything she had fought to repress came rushing back and she broke the kiss with a strangled whimper. Pulling away from him, she pushed him back and he merely looked at her with surprise. She wiped her mouth unconsciously before stumbling to her feet and backing away slowly, her hand still lingering on her mouth before turning and running from the ladies room.
"Willow!" The redhead glanced back over her shoulder, her eyes slightly glossy with tears as she turned fully to watch Riley approach her. "Are you not riding with us?" Riley asked as he approached his girlfriend’s best friend. She shook her head slightly and he frowned at her. "Are you okay?" "I’m fine. Just going to go home. Get some of that stuff called sleep." She didn’t know whether or not the smile she gave him was real, but judging by his expression, he didn’t buy whatever she had flashed at him. But she didn’t really care. She was sure that if she had to ride in the same car with Buffy completely ignoring her, she would start sobbing openly. The wound the blonde carried around with her was Willow’s, too, no matter how minimal it was. And it hurt her more than she liked that Buffy was trying to take all the blame for herself. She was fairly certain that she should be glad that Buffy cared enough to take all the pain herself, but how could she when she felt so much guilt about it? "Where’s Buffy?" Riley gestured with his head back towards the club. "Cleaning up. How long have you been standing out here?" Willow shrugged. "A while, I guess. Can’t get a taxi." "Did you call for one?" "I don’t have a cell phone." "I’ll call one for you... if you’re sure that you don’t want a ride home." Willow’s smile was once again forced. "I’m sure." Riley didn’t ask any further questions. He didn’t know Willow enough to take it upon himself to pry into why the two women had been fighting. If Buffy wasn’t going to tell him, he knew the petite redhead wouldn’t either. Grabbing the cell phone from his pocket, he quickly dialed the easy taxi number and waited before giving the operator their location. A few minutes later, a yellow taxi sped into the small drive before the club, easily avoiding the valet-parked cars. It let out a little honk from its horn. Willow smiled at Riley. "Thanks. Can you tell Buffy..." Willow furrowed her brow as she hesitated. "I’ll call her tomorrow?" Riley smiled at her warmly. "Sure. I’ll make sure she gets the message." "Thanks." Watching as the redhead climbed into the cab, he breathed in deeply before walking back towards the club, nodding at the bouncer as he reentered. He immediately searched the continually growing crowd for his little blonde but she was nowhere in sight. Sighing, he resigned himself to leaning against the wall, his eyes continuing to rove over the people’s heads around him.
Buffy could barely see as she pushed her way through the large crowd. As it seemed to take her longer and longer to get to the exit, she became more aggravated with the people who were simply not moving. It didn’t help that she couldn’t stop the tears leaking from her eyes either. She couldn’t believe what she had done back there. What had she been thinking? Was she seriously that weak? That stupid? She was angry that she hadn’t done what she had imagined doing a thousand times over. Slapping him. Telling him that he had no place in her life. Kicking him between the legs came up more than once. Not kissing. Never was there kissing. At least not in her conscious thoughts. It didn’t escape her busy mind that she had dreamed about this happening more times than she cared to remember. Which was why she had that medicine to help her sleep. Since she hadn’t been back to Wesley after seeing Angel at his office, she hadn’t been able to get a refill on her meds. But she also hadn’t been plagued by the dreams and she gave all the credit to Riley. Sweet Riley. Buffy felt her chest squeeze as guilt marched through her. She was seeing Riley and here she was, kissing Angel like the weak little schoolgirl she still was. Anger, pain, sadness, love... Buffy felt like an emotional wrecking ball and as she continued to push through the staring crowd, her feeling of vulnerability seemed to grow. She felt like an open book for all the people who cared to look at the crying girl sweeping past them. She felt like they had a front row seat to her past and everything associated with it. She hated the feeling. Buffy didn’t even think about looking around for her new beau, instead stepping out of the club in a flourish and walking away from the offending club and everything that had taken place there. The chilly air was absolutely refreshing and she took a deep breath as she continued to walk away. She felt goose bumps rise on her skin but she didn’t think that it had anything to do with the fact that she had left her coat at the club. Instead, she gave their cause to Angel and what she had been doing with him earlier. As Buffy turned the corner, she felt more tears rising and a sob fell from her throat. She didn’t stop to see what direction she was going or whether or not she was heading towards her apartment. She didn’t really care as long as she got as far away as possible from Angel and everything that had transpired. She couldn’t have stopped herself even if she tried.
The first thing Angel was aware of when he came home was the emptiness of his house. The fact that he had been expecting it didn’t soften the blow that his fiancee had indeed walked out on him. Or hadn’t even come back to the place they called a home together at all. The door shutting echoed loudly and he set his jacket and keys down gently on the table next to the door. The emptiness didn’t stop him from calling out for her anyway. It wouldn’t hurt to make sure. No one answered and the entire house seemed to be closing in on him. Angel couldn’t believe how numb he felt. Two very important things had happened to him that night and he didn’t know what to feel. Or when to feel it. Or when to try to make things okay. Or when to do anything. The confusion that seemed to have taken precedence over all of his feelings was astounding. He had no idea about how to go about anything. He was trained to deal with things like this when it came to others... but when it came to him personally... he had no idea where to start. He wasn’t even sure there was a starting point. Angel wasn’t quite sure what it meant that Buffy was at the top of his mind. How could she not be? She was such an intricate part of his past and seeing her again... kissing her again... she just made everything so cloudy in his mind. The moment he had touched his lips to hers, he had been thrown back to the last time he saw her. The last time he slept with her, both literally and sexually. When they had last kissed. When he had last seen her... the day she had gotten her abortion. Then there was Christina. Angel knew he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if something happened to her. He loved her. He truly did with everything in him. But it wasn’t... something was missing and wasn’t sure what it was but he did know that Christina had been aware of it the entire time they had been in a relationship. Something he was somehow unable to fully give her. Something that was essential to making things work. And after what had happened that night... he could understand on a certain level why she reacted the way she did. He had kept a very important piece of his past completely hidden from her. A piece that would have solved a lot of problems and answered a lot of questions for her, probably in the end bringing them closer together and a possibility at gaining the ability to get over this easily. Essentially moving on - together - and realizing the past and learning from it. But now that that little piece had been uncovered so quickly and so brutally, Christina was paying the price for trusting him, with her heart and their child’s future, when she had no right to do that in the first place. But now that all might be gone. He might never know the child growing in Christina’s womb. Just like neither he nor Buffy would ever know their child. God, what kind of man had he turned into? Where had things gone so terribly wrong? He actually knew the exact day that those things went bad. The day at the coffee shop when he had first seen Buffy. The moment he set eyes on her... And now he was paying the price for being a stupid hotheaded twentysomething. He was now damaged goods and had caused far too much pain to everyone he had held close to his heart. First Buffy. No matter how callously he used her, she was still something he treasured. And Christina, who he knew he would marry in a second if he could only get another chance to make things right. Never had he felt as much loathing as he did in that moment for himself as he walked into the living room, switching on the light. He then noticed the little piece of paper sitting on the coffee table. Angel paused. She had been back here. She had come back to their home. She hadn’t completely abandoned him. Ignoring his reckless thinking, he walked slowly towards the paper, reaching out to pick it up, afraid of what it might say. Angel, I’m going to be staying with Cordelia for a while. I need some time. I’ll call you if I need anything. I love you, Chris Staring at her cursive, it took a moment for Angel to look up and all he did was fall back on the couch and stare at the wall for a long time, the paper never falling from his fingers.
"How’s she doin’?" Cordelia looked up as Doyle approached her from behind. Looking back over her shoulder, she smiled slightly and then shrugged her shoulders from where she sat at the dining room table. "Couldn’t tell ya. Every time I go in there, all I hear is ‘Yes, Cordelia’ and ‘No thank you’ or maybe even a ‘I’m just a little tired’. And when I start into the whole Angel thing, she just clams up. She won’t talk." Doyle placed his hands on his wife’s shoulders, leaning down and placing a gentle kiss into her hair. "You hafta be a little patient with her, ‘Delia," he said softly. "She just found out that her so-called-fiancee has been keepin’ a few secrets from her last night." Cordelia sighed deeply. "I know that. But I’m supposed to be her best friend, aren’t I? I should be in there, letting her cry all over my shoulder or something." Doyle chuckled. "Give her time. You’ll be gettin’ that privilege soon enough." "Hopefully sooner than it’s looking. I would feel like murdering you if you kept a secret like that from me." Cordelia paused before looking back at her husband. "You aren’t, right?" Doyle laughed outright. He knew better than that. And he knew that he didn’t have nearly as big a secret as Angel did. "Of course not. You know all there is to know." "I better. Because if you ever did anything like that to me," Cordelia said as she turned back to the mail she had been sorting through, "I would have to do something pretty bad."
Christina was numb. No, not numb. But she wished she was. Instead she was caught up in a whirlwind of anger and pain. It was a horrible combination that she was sure if she didn’t stop it would only get worse before she did something stupid like find Angel and tell him exactly what she thought of him in that moment. He was sick. He was stupid. He was cold. He was so many things to her right then that she knew if she saw him again, she would break up with him... for good. And as much as she knew she wanted him to deserve it, she knew he didn’t. She knew what kind of man he had been then. She had heard the stories - from his own lips - about the countless women who had paraded through his bed, or wherever else he found himself. She knew how... dormant, was how he had described it, he had been. But she hadn’t know that he had gotten a sixteen year old girl pregnant. Wiping angry tears from her eyes, she hoped that he had only been mistaken by her age. That as a young girl, the teenager had lied to him about it. But judging by the sight of the blonde whom he had forced to get an abortion, she knew that that couldn’t be true. The young woman had had an air of innocence and youth around her that was beautiful and added to her already graceful aging process. She was gorgeous. Petite and simple. A complete opposite of herself if she allowed herself to think it. Christina wanted to hate her... Buffy. But then she couldn’t help but place herself in her shoes. She knew that if she had been pregnant when she was sixteen, she would have wanted to keep it. That was how she was raised. She couldn’t have killed her baby, willingly, even if someone had paid her. But if it had been for love? Well... that was a different story. Hugging the large pillow she was half laying on, Christina once again wiped at her tears. She couldn’t hate her. But she couldn’t hate Angel at the same time. Surely he had been scared. Stupid, of course, but scared. If someone had found out about what he had done, he would have gone to jail, for sure. And then he would have had a fatherless child running around somewhere. Christina couldn’t help herself as she imagined what could have happened at the party if Angel had told her about his past. She knew she would have... that’s a lie, and she knew it. She had no idea of how she would have reacted. She probably would have shaken her hand and introduced herself as Angel’s fiancee. And then everything would be fine, right? The girl - Buffy - would have just nodded and smiled because she had moved on and then everything would be fine... But the little blonde hadn’t moved on. That much was painfully obvious. The look on her face. The petrified look. The pained look. She had clearly not gotten over what had happened when she had been in high school. Which meant that Angel had scarred her in some way. And that hurt Christina as well. If he was capable of such a thing, wasn’t it possible that he would do the same to her? Not necessarily force her to kill their child, but... And then came in their baby. God, the thought of their little baby living without his or her father was horrible. She didn’t want that for anyone, and most certainly not for her child. But she couldn’t help but think that Angel was somehow using her to make up for what he had done in the past. And that put into question his love for her. He claimed to love her, but... did he mean it? Even so, Christina had never loved anyone nearly as much as she loved Angel. She loved him. With all she had. He was her first real love. They were going to be have a baby together. Or they were. Now she wasn’t so sure. She didn’t know if she wanted to be with him. What else could he possibly be keeping from her? A small part of her knew that she had to forgive him - the part of her that was full of unconditional love for him. She didn’t want to live the rest of her life alone... There were too many thoughts in her mind. Too many extremely confusing thoughts that only added to her aching heart. She wanted to forgive him and let them both move on, for both herself and their child, but the fear that he was still locked up in his past interfered with her thoughts and so she continued lying on the bed, thinking, unmoving as tears continued to slip down her cheeks. She had no where else to go.
Willow looked up wearily as the phone rang again. And once again, she didn’t move to answer it. She wasn’t exactly sure who it was that was calling her, but she knew that if it were Buffy, she wouldn’t talk. She was still too hurt from Buffy’s words. Even a full day after it had happened, she was still hurt. She never held in her anger like this where Buffy was concerned. They always talked. But this was different because it was so deeply woven in them both. She was still stinging from every comment that had left Buffy’s mouth. How could she not be? How could Buffy not blame her? She was still in utter confusion about that. She knew what had been happening. What had been going on and yet she had done nothing when rationally that should have been the only thing she was doing. And she was so sick of thinking herself in circles of blame, but it was all true. The blame laid on her, and only her. Buffy was a victim in this. Willow knew she should have done something. The blame also laid on Angel. He had been the adult in the stupid thing they called a relationship and he had done nothing but sit back and enjoy it. And that was where Willow should have stepped in. But she hadn’t and so here she was, not talking to her best friend after a huge event that would surely mean some serious best-friend talkage was needed. But how could she be there for her friend if she wouldn’t share the burden that she carried. Willow may have carried her own, personal burden about what had happened between Buffy and Angel, but she wanted to help with what Buffy was dealing with. Though she knew everything about what had happened, she knew that Buffy still hadn’t let her in completely. She always hid the little things that seemed to mean the most, which should have explained the very fact that she kept it to herself, but it only made Willow feel worse. A red light blinking caught her attention from the corner of her eye and she turned to see that yet another message had been saved to her machine. She sighed. She wanted to talk to Buffy, but something was stopping her. Guilt? Anger that Buffy had yelled at her? And then more with the guilt that she was thinking that way... Growling softly to herself, Willow flopped her head back against the cushions of her couch and closed her eyes. "Why is this so hard?" She was answered with silence and it sucked because she knew the answer. Or she thought she did. It was because she loved Buffy. She was her best friend and she wanted nothing bad to happen to her. She wanted Buffy’s life to be pain-free because that was a best friend’s job. To help relieve the pain that life dealt out. And here she was... just sitting here. But she still didn’t move toward the phone.
Buffy slowly set the phone down and stared at it. Willow still wasn’t answering and this was the fourth time Buffy had left a long message asking Willow to call her back because they really needed to talk. About everything. It seemed after what had happened the night before, Buffy was unable to escape her constant state of fragileness. She had been forced to confront the demons that had plagued her for nine years and she had failed miserably. She needed to tell someone who knew about the situation enough to understand what she was going through. Buffy knew that if she didn’t reach Willow soon, she would break down crying. Again. She was very sure that she would run out of tears eventually but that had yet to come. And in the meantime, all she could do was weep. And for what? Why was she still crying over this? She was so mad that she couldn’t simply get up and leave it all behind because it didn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter, still, after all this time. But it did. After Buffy had made it home and had been laying in bed for a good hour, someone had knocked at her door. The relief that Buffy had felt when she saw Riley on the other side had been so immense that she started crying once again. He had stepped forward and simply hugged her, for which Buffy was so incredibly grateful for. He was so sweet and so nice and so caring. He was everything she knew she should want and need... but he wasn’t. Which only made Buffy cry harder as he held her. She didn’t once open her mouth to voice her pain and he didn’t ask. He understood that she came with a strange past that had taken a huge emotional bite out of her. She knew she didn’t deserve him. Knew he deserved so much better than a person who was not capable of returning his affection nearly as much as he deserved. But she didn’t care. He liked her and he cared enough to sit by while she cried all over him. The very idea warmed her immensely and she had eventually cried herself to sleep. He had put her in her bed and left, leaving that coat she had left at the club on her couch and locking the door behind him. Her heart had swelled even more. Buffy had called in sick, again. Luckily, there was nothing too demanding sitting on her desk waiting for her so she had been able to get away with it. She had spent the entire day lounging around her apartment, drinking coffee. Buffy wished that she could talk to Riley about all this but she wasn’t sure what his reaction would be. If it was near anything that Christina - Angel’s fiancee - had done, she knew she would regret ever opening her mouth. She hadn’t really ever planned on telling Riley about what had happened to her and wasn’t quite sure she wanted to. She didn’t want him to go away because he was quickly becoming a comfortable place for her to rest her head when she was distressed. With Willow not answering her phone - which she usually did that late at night - Buffy was left with one choice that she really didn’t feel like taking up. She knew that she did not want to go back there, under any circumstances because there was the most definite chance that she would run into Angel. And she was not prepared for that at all. She was not sure at all of how she would react to seeing him again. Faint? Kiss him? Kick him? One thing she knew was that she wouldn’t go there. Call him? Sure. Meet him? A definite course of action that had potential. But going there? Never.
Wesley didn’t bother looking up as his phone buzzed, signaling his secretary. Pushing the button without looking from one of his patient’s files, he asked, "Yes, Anya?" "A Buffy Summers to see you, Mr. Pryce," she said, her tone bored. Wesley was startled, looking up from the papers he was reading. "Send her in immediately," he said quickly, standing and approaching the door. He reached it before she could and he watched as Gunn walked by, saying hi to his former patient while jokingly remembering when she had fainted. Wesley ushered her in quickly as she smiled uncomfortably at the reminder and stepped into his office. "Buffy, what are you doing here?" Buffy sighed and didn’t bother covering up her reasons. She simply sat in her favorite chair as Wesley sat next to her rather than his customary seat across the desk. He couldn’t help but notice the tired circles under her eyes. Or the overall stress on her entire person. She looked like she had had a trying few days. "Angel," she said tiredly. Wesley furrowed his brows, ignoring for the moment that they had agreed she would never come back to these offices as long as Angel resided there. "The dreams again?" Buffy blinked before opening her mouth and allowing everything to fall free like a floodgate opening, "No. Angel as in crying on him and kissing him, effectively helping him cheat on his fiancee and me cheating on my boyfriend and Willow’s mad at me about the whole stupid Angel thing and I think I still love Angel because Riley is so nice to me and your secretary was at that stupid party the other night where Angel was and just everybody was and she was giving me weird looks because she works for Angel and she probably knows that we kissed and... and... just everything Angel-related!" Wesley merely raised his eyebrows in surprise at the outburst.
l be kind, rewind l back to top l
Some of the fanfiction featured on this site contains adult content and situations not suited for people under the age of 18. They are properly marked. You have been warned.
|
