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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 S E V E N Abused. Runaways. Homeless. The list went on and on of the children in the folders on her desk. The children she was supposed to be protecting and taking care of and helping them find a place in the world. But right now, she didn’t really even know her place. Sighing, Buffy itched her arm absently. The Robinson case, the biggest she had dealt with in a long time, was done and taken care of. And now the little things needed her attention and she was completely unwilling to go into it. The thought that she was being lazy with her work made her feel guilty as kids around the town, and some from L.A. depended on her for help. Or so it seemed. But what good could she do them when she couldn’t even take care of her own baby? When she had lost it? Closing her eyes, Buffy shook her head. She was sick of thinking this way. She was sick of thinking about Angel. She just wanted to let go. So why couldn’t she? “Buffy?” Looking up, Buffy plastered a smile on her face. A young woman by the name of Julie smiled back from where she stood at Buffy’s office door. “Could I have a minute?” “Sure,” Buffy replied instantly. Lifting her hand, she waved at one of the two chairs sitting before her small desk. “What do you need?” “Well,” the woman replied as she walked in, taking a seat on the edge of the chair, crossing her legs. “I need help with one of my cases. And it seems like you would be the best person to talk to about this because of the Robinson case, so...” “Yeah, sure, of course I’ll try to help. What is it?” “Well, it’s a case from L.A. and...” Leaning back in her chair, Buffy proceeded to listen to the story about the eleven-year-old girl who had been found on the street by police. According to Julie, she had been wearing a micro-mini skirt and a tube top. She had been carrying over three hundred dollars. Both of them could only imagine where she had actually gotten the money. Buffy could hear the pity in Julie’s voice. She could also hear the confusion and the disgust and worry and sadness. Buffy understood where she was coming from. What the hell was such a young girl doing out on the street, selling her body? Buffy couldn’t imagine what kind of life the girl had to have had to make her run away and end up prostituting her body for a living. It saddened and sickened her that there were parents out there that would treat their children like that. Like they meant nothing and had, in all true reality, been a mistake. Buffy would never treat her child like that. Ever. Or she never would have, had she kept Angel’s baby. As Julie stood to leave, content with Buffy’s advice for the moment, Buffy leaned forward, looking down at her desk once more, a new desire to help the children in need of aid burning in her. It was familiar, matching the one she had felt when she first thought about going into social work. It felt good. And all it took was a pity story from L.A. Buffy felt a little guilty that it took another’s pain to make her open her eyes. Opening the top folder, Buffy was interrupted as the phone on her desk rang. “Hello?”
His finger hovered over the final number on his telephone. All he had to do was push down and then the other end would ring, possibly opening up his past, or shutting it down forever. He didn’t even know which one he wanted to happen. Breathing in quickly, Angel blew the air out before hanging up the phone. Closing his eyes, he leaned back into his overstuffed office chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose. The little piece of paper in his hands shook slightly as he thought about what the hell he was doing. He was thinking himself into a hole. A very big, deep, obsessive hole. He was a trained psychiatrist, for fuck’s sake, and all he could do was sit here like his former patients had done. Just sit here. And think. And question. And wonder. He had always wondered why the hell they couldn’t snap out of it and help themselves but now he understood all too well. It wasn’t that easy. He should have known that but the larger part of him had questioned their ability to live in the real world if they couldn’t even live in their own. Now he had the very same problem most of his patients had had. And he pitied them. And himself. Sitting up, Angel stared at the large piles of folders and papers on his desk. Rubbing his chin tiredly, Angel regretted trying to sleep at all the night before. It had been completely pointless and the tossing and turning had only seemed to make the exhaustion all the more real. Sighing, Angel opened one of his drawers absently and without looking, dumped the little piece of paper into it and shut it with a resounding thud that seemed to echo in his mind. Angel didn’t get the chance to even open the first folder on the top pile before a loud knock echoed on his door. Angel hesitated a moment before answering. “Yes?” The door opened and the dread and anticipation filled Angel like a waterfall pouring into a small bowl. He already knew who it was. “May I have a moment, Mr. Roarke?” Another moment of hesitation before, “Yes. Please come in, Wesley.” It came out smooth and calm and as Wesley turned to close the door behind him, Angel tamped down on the panic that grabbed him. Now wasn’t the time and he was certain that Wesley couldn’t do anything to him or the business. Could he? What if he had already done something? Angel waited as Wesley turned around slowly, an unreadable look on the other man’s face. “Is there something I can do for you?” Angel asked, his voice devoid of any emotion. “Yes, there is. How could you come into my office and take Ms. Summers’ folder? You had no right and it was certainly none of your business.” The anger in his voice echoed off the walls and Angel only met his eyes calmly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Damn you!” Wesley said loudly. “How can you just sit there? After everything you put that poor girl through?” “My past is none of your business, Mr. Pryce,” Angel replied quickly, his voice low. “But hers is,” Wesley said just as quickly. “And I know enough of it to pass judgement on you.” Angel didn’t respond. “You might as well have tortured Buffy Summers for the way she has turned out after you got done with her. She is quite obviously a shell of the vibrant, young girl she once was. I can see it in her eyes.” Angel looked away. “You’ve read her file. You know what she has said. And I guess you know that she is still in love with you. I highly doubt she’ll ever stop loving you.” Angel’s sharp glare didn’t give Wesley cause for pause. “A sixteen-year-old, Angel. How could you have been so damned stupid?” Once again, Angel didn’t move to make any reply of any sorts. Wesley walked forward slowly, his eyes narrowed. “I could have you arrested for what you did.” “But you won’t,” Angel said, his voice soft as he looked down to his hands. “Oh? And why? I could pick up the phone right no-“ “Because she doesn’t want that. And you most certainly don’t want your friend to have to go through that, now do you?” Angel asked, his tone unreadable as Wesley raised an eyebrow. “I’d think it would help her. Put an end to the hell she has been living.” A moment of silence passed. Angel took a deep breath before saying, “Why didn’t you tell me she was your patient?” Wesley strode through the subject change easily as he responded, “Because you didn’t notice. And she didn’t need that. I didn’t know what you were capable of. And I still don’t.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Exactly what you think. Her file contained her personal information as well as her past accounts. How am I supposed to know that you won’t use that to your own benefit?” “I’m engaged, for Christ’s sake,” Angel said loudly. “And expecting a baby! Buffy is a part of my past, Wesley. I would just as happily leave it that way.” “Would you? You were fourteen years older than her when you first started your sexual relationship with the girl. If that didn’t stop you, than what’s to say this won’t?” “I’ve changed,” Angel said, his voice quiet after a moment’s pause. “I’m not that man anymore.” “Because of what you did to Buffy?” Wesley asked, his voice soft and accusing. “After you ruined her life?” “I didn’t ruin her life,” Angel objected. “We both know that that baby could have never been. Ever. What kind of life could I give Buffy when I was in jail? I did it to protect both of our futures.” “Or maybe just yours.” “Fuck you,” Angel hissed. “Don’t pull your psycho bullshit on me, Mr. Pryce. Or have you forgotten that I’m your superior?” “When you took Ms. Summers’ folder, you knew that you were in direct violation of-“ “Bullshit. You had no right to keep her away from me,” Angel accused. “Didn’t I? You both were quite content with the thought that you were at least three thousand miles away from each other.” Taking a deep breath, Angel closed his eyes. “I returned the folder. I didn’t take anything. I barely touched the damn thing.” Looking up, he met Wesley’s eyes. “I won’t go anywhere near her.” “How do I know you didn’t just copy down her address or phone number? Or both?” “By taking my word.” “Just as Buffy did when she was sixteen?” Pursing his lips, Angel looked down to his desk. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I returned the folder. Nothing happened. Nothing will happen. “You can leave my office now.” Wesley paused before turning back to the door. He heard Angel dropping into his chair heavily. Reaching for the doorknob, Wesley opened it before looking back over his shoulder. “What shall I do about Ms. Summers, Mr. Roarke?” Angel looked up tiredly. “Do what you’d like, just don’t let us cross paths. She’s your friend and you’re her doctor...” Angel paused. “Just don’t let her see me.” Wesley gave a curt nod before exiting the office, a little unsettled with the quick and quiet truce they seemed to have formed.
Angel sat for a long minute, not moving as he stared at the phone on his desk. Could he keep his word? He was fairly sure that Wesley knew he had been lying about keeping some of Buffy’s personal information. How could he not take her phone number? But... why would he take it? Hating the circles he had been thinking himself in for the last couple of days since seeing Buffy, he picked up the phone. Opening his drawer, he grabbed the scrap piece of paper and dialed the phone number without looking at the number he had scribbled onto the paper.
“Hello?” “Buffy?” “Yes.” “Hi. It’s Riley.” “Oh.” Buffy was surprised. Riley? She had actually almost completely forgotten about him. Angel’s reappearance in her life had certainly taken precedence over a man she barely knew and the fact that it had been a little over a week since she had seen Riley. But here he was, calling her. Buffy was surprised. “Hi. How are you?” “I’m good. How are you?” “Same. Good. Dandy.” “That’s good. How is everything?” “Oh, it’s all fine.” Right. “Nothing new going on except for work, work, work.” Which could be true... “You?” “Pretty much the same...” Buffy nodded, knowing he couldn’t see her but still doing it. “Oh.” A silent moment passed before Riley spoke once more. “Listen, do you want to go have dinner with me again? Or a picnic? I know this really great park near the college.” Buffy paused, the unconscious urge to say no almost taking her. But then she stopped. Why should she say no? What was stopping her? Angel? Why should she let him stop her? It was obvious he had moved on. How could he not when he had wanted her to get rid of their baby before disappearing? Buffy smiled. “I would love to. A picnic sounds great.” She thought she could hear Riley smiling on the other end. “Great! When do-“ A loud beeping sounded in Buffy’s ear and she sat up straighter as she looked at her phone. She heard Riley asking, “Is that you?” Buffy nodded once more, not thinking as she said, “Yeah. Could you hang on a minute?” “Sure. I’ll be right here when you get back.” Buffy smiled, not responding as she went to the other line that was waiting for her. “Hello?” Silence answered her. “Hello?” She thought she heard someone breathing and Buffy furrowed her brow. “Hello? Is someone there?” As another moment of silence greeted her, Buffy shrugged before switching over to where Riley waited. “Riley? Are you still there?” “Yeah. Someone important?” “No. I think it was a wrong number. So, picnic...”
Angel hung up the phone slowly, placing it lightly back in its cradle. Staring at the black piece of plastic, Angel sighed. Her voice had been so... clear. So bright and... Buffy. Sighing, Angel closed his eyes as he leaned back into his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose as he felt his mind immersing itself in the past. But he wasn’t quite sure whether or not he wanted to be there.
744
Remorse – is Memory – awake –
Its Past – set down before the Soul
Remorse is cureless – the Disease
l be kind, rewind l back to top l
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