SERIES: Passing Time (POV #1-- Angel)
AUTHOR: Tisienne Blue
E-MAIL: tisatko@msn.com
DISCLAIMER: I own no-one from the Buffyverse. Joss does, and I am not Joss.
RATING: R-ish for this part.
PAIRINGS: A/W/Liam
DISTRIBUTION: Charity can have it, as can Jen:)... you all know the drill, so...*g*
FEEDBACK: is kinda the point, no???
DEDICATIONS: To Di for the challenge... also to: Susi, Paula, Nutmeg, and Angel S for the feedback!!!
NOTES: 2007. * *= emphasis.
MORE NOTES: This is kind of an interlude, I suppose, in that it's Angel's ruminations on what's happened so far, and is in his POV... It's not necessary to read this for the rest of this series to make sense, but it might help to explain why Broody's being so... fair with Liam... and why his mood was so... *odd* when he got back from seeing the Oracles...
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So there I was, just moving along with my existence, fighting the good fight, and trying to keep my friends-- who had become more like family than anything else, over the years-- safe, and as happy as I could. And it was going fairly well, too. I mean, okay, there were times when I was just... an insensitive jerk, to quote Cordelia, but on the whole, I think I was generally a good guy. And then Buffy went and died.
Now, yes, she was the Slayer, and it was almost... inevitable, that she'd die young, but... somehow I had always assumed that when she *did* die, it would be because she was trying to help someone... trying to make a difference, to make the world a safer place for humanity in general. I was prepared for that. I *wasn't* prepared to find out that she had died, not as the result of facing a demon stronger than she was, but... because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and somehow got in the way of a stray bullet.
Of course, I was well over her by then, my time in LA having taught me that there was more to living in the world than one particular blonde girl-- even if she *was* the Chosen One-- could ever comprise for me, and... things had been going well. Angel Investigations had been thriving in the ironically named 'City of Angels', and even Cordelia was happy, seeing as we'd actually had a good number of *paying* clients... But it still affected me when I heard that a new Slayer had been called, and sadly enough, my first thought wasn't of her sister Dawn, or even of Giles, but of her best friend-- and mine-- Willow!
Of course, Willow had always been a sweet, kind girl, and I'd always had a great appreciation for her kindnesses, especially after I returned from hell, but... She never knew how I really felt about her. In fact, I thought that no-one did, but lately, I've begun to suspect that Cordelia... But I'm getting ahead of myself here; I was talking about Willow.
I've wanted her for almost as long as I've loved her, is the thing... I mean, why else would I waste precious hours of my time watching that same stupid movie over and over again? Oh, forget I even said that, because... okay, it's one of the worst pieces of drivel I've ever seen-- which probably explains the numerous awards, and staggering box-office-- but it gives me an excuse to sit beside her on the couch, and watch her for three hours or so at a stretch, so... I suppose it can't be all bad. And I guess I always figured that she'd figure out how I felt someday... Maybe she'd look up and catch me watching her, and see the love in my eyes, the way she seemed to see everything *else* I ever felt, but... she never did. She moved into the hotel, and got me watching that damned piece of shit alleged 'film', and she never-- not even *once*-- called me on my feelings. Not even when the Powers first affixed my soul permanently, when I pretty much vibrated every time she even walked into the same room! So finally, I decided that she just wasn't interested. I even convinced myself that the occasional whiff of desire I got from her was purely unintentional... a physical thing, at best. So I did what *any* souled vampire would have done in that situation. I brooded.
That's right, I sat alone in the dark, and depressed myself even more with morbid poetry, and wallowed in my own misery. It's what I was good at, after all, and it's a well-known fact that in times of trouble and sorrow, people generally retreat to the familiar, and yes, I *did* just call myself a *person*. And that's because of my Willow.
I think it was because she was so unflinching about expecting me to act like one. She used to have this way of *looking* at me whenever I'd do something too... not-person-y... It was a look that spoke, just as clearly as words would have, and it said: 'That isn't *you*, Angel. *You* aren't like that. *You* wouldn't act that way. You're *better* than that!' And it was a look that I hated, almost as passionately as I loved her, because... she was right, and she made me feel ashamed for taking the easy way out, for letting the fact of my demon nature detract from the feelings of the soul... and it made me fell like I'd... *disappointed* her somehow. So after a while, I realized that I would keep seeing that look unless I chose what I truly wanted to be, and once that conclusion became a thought, I *knew*. More than anything, I wanted to be worthy of her. I wanted to be the kind of... being that she could love, and... I let myself grow, and change, and become all the things I'd been afraid to try being before.
Of course, that didn't mean that my darker side-- the demon known as Angelus-- was *gone*. He wasn't. But oddly enough, once he was... weighed down, I suppose you could say... by the Powers and their final attachment of soul to dead yet mobile flesh, he was... less angry. It was almost like he'd accepted the situation, which was a good thing, because there wasn't a *damned* thing he could do about it, and... as I spent more and more time with the girl I loved, I came to a rather startling realization. I wasn't the *only* one who loved the little witch, because... Angelus did, too... still does, actually. Which only goes to show how special she truly is, but... I digress.
So she made me want to be a *person*, and forced me to become one with nothing more than one simple look, and I didn't even know it had happened until the other night in that alley, when she gave me that look again, for the first time in almost four years, and I've got to say... I hated it still! And I think I tried to convince myself that I hated *him*, too... after all, she wasn't looking at *him* that way! Oh, no, she was looking at *him* with... *wonder*, and *compassion*, and... *interest*, and... I almost wanted to kill him right then and there. How *dare* he? How dare he even *be* there, in a world that was obviously not his own? And how dare he *look* at her like that, as if she'd just pulled him from the fires with her bare hands? How dare he look so much like me, only... darker, from exposure to a sun that would have killed me, and ruddier, from the natural blood flowing through his veins? And... how dare he be so close to her when I'd been trying to give her subtle hints for years? Even as I strode to the car that night, I made up my mind. It was one thing to stand idly by and watch her go out every now and again with some human or other, mostly because I knew that just a few well-placed words and insinuations would have her stepping back from them, but... There was no way I was going to let this... *me* in human guise have her. It wasn't going to happen, no matter *what*. Whatever it took, I'd do it, and... if that meant baring my soul to her, and opening my heart, giving her the opportunity to crush it harshly beneath her heel, then... so be it.
But this is Willow we're talking about, and I'm no longer the vampire I was the *last* time I tried to make a 'love connection', so... an arrogant, breathy 'Do you love me? Maybe you shouldn't...' just isn't going to cut it, and... I don't think I know how to do this.
Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm well aware of how to go about sweeping a woman off her feet, and making her *think* she loves, me, but... as I said, this is *Willow*. I don't want her to *think* she loves me, I want her to *know* *it*! I want her to be just as enraptured by me as I am by her, and... that's what I don't know how to do.
So, that all decided, the Oracles called me through my cosmic pager-- also known as Cordelia Chase-- and when I went before them, they had many things to tell me, some of it about Liam, but mostly not. They didn't seem to know much, actually, which kind of... worries me. But they did let *one* thing slip. Although I didn't realize it at first.
They mentioned something about the Ember being torn between two flames, hot and cold, and the male-- who is *much* kinder than the *last* male oracle-- said, in an aside to the female that I'm fairly certain I wasn't supposed to hear, that he didn't envy her-- the Ember-- the choice she'd have to make. I'm also sure that I wasn't meant to hear her reply-- that the Ember's choice was *already* made. Now, they *might* have been talking about someone else, but... I don't think so.
I'm not going to lie; I have to admit that I'm a little worried about why the Oracles have a special name for my Will... I find myself wondering, almost every spare moment, about what exactly the Powers are going to demand of her, but... I suppose I'll find out in due time, and until then? I'm pretty sure that their words translate out to meaning that she's going to be *mine*, because if she's the Ember, then who else could the hot and cold flames be, other than Liam and me?
And *that's* why I was in such a good mood when I got home from my little visit to the Oracles dimension. It was because I'd figured *that* much out on the way.
Of course, then came my little discussion with Liam, and the shock of finding out that in *his* world, Willow had been his. It almost pissed me off, but then I realized... if they were fated in his world-- and they must have been for the kind of instant pull they'd felt-- then... *My* Willow really was meant to be *mine*! I sat in my office for a while after we'd come to our agreement, and wondered... if I had never met Buffy... If I had gone to Sunnydale a year earlier... or a year later... what might my life have been like, then? And even now, hours later, I shudder at the thought of losing my soul in my Will, without a Slayer around to save her from the demon within me... The demon who would have turned her faster than she knew what was happening... and who would have made her love every minute of the blinding torment he would have inflicted on her, out of love.
No, in *this* world, things went as they needed to. I was blinded by the Slayer, but now I see that it was necessary, and... I'm glad. And yes, a small part of me will always love Buffy, for who she was when we met, and for the good she did, even after we parted, but... the rest of me? The *rest* of me belongs, for now, and for always, to a smallish redheaded witch who's sleeping, even now, in her room right down the hall... and honestly? I'm hoping to be invited in to that room to stay, one day *very* soon. But that's up to her. All I can do is try to show her how much I love her... *need* her... *want* her... and hope that my display is more appealing than Liam's because... Regardless of what he may say, I *do* know what he's like. I know *exactly* what he's like. But I don't hate him; I can't. I can't even blame him for wanting my witch... and I can't blame *her* for being, um... intrigued. After all, we *are* one hell of a smooth-tongued, sexy bastard, aren't we?
End.