Creative Works   

Angel and Buffy Fighting Scene
By Ellen
Scribble246(at)aol.com

Summary: Is it more than just a training exercise?
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, and I'm not using them for anything but this story, meant for the enjoyment of Buffy and Angel fans... :)!
Author's Notes: (From Buffy: Season Four and Angel: Season ??)

. . .

Angel, Buffy Summers' first love - her true, undying, wonderful love - was coming to visit, and it wasn't something Buffy was happy about. She had a boyfriend, a human one this time, not a 240-year-old vampire with a Gypsy curse on him, like Angel. His name was Riley Finn, and he was a very handsome young man, and a soldier. Riley had straight, light brown hair, dimples, an amazing smile, a talent for charming people, and lots of strength. He was also a soldier. Of course, Angel was "hot," too, maybe even more so than Riley, and he was a great fighter...

But the point is, I have another date, Buffy thought irritably. Still, she had to talk to Angel, which meant convincing Riley to let them be alone for a little while. It also meant running some risks, but they were risks she had to take. Risks that, with the relationship she and Angel had, couldn't be avoided. Not with their long and pretty much tragic history.

What do you expect? We're a Vampire Slayer and vampire. Well, a vampire with a soul, true...a vampire under a curse that had given him back his conscience, his caring, and made him deeply regret the centuries of murder and torture he had committed. The curse also said that one moment of true joy would take away his soul. That, as Buffy knew from unfortunate experience, made him cruel and terrible: Angelus, The One With The Angelic Face - and the vilest, evilest vampire living. That was so not boyfriend material. Which is why, of course, they had fallen in love, despite being mortal and immortal, old and young - opposites in every way.

And now he's here again, and I have to convince Riley to let me spend a few torturous hours trying not to love him like I do. But she would do it for him, for them.

Riley watched Buffy, sitting on her bed in the dorm room she shared with her best friend Willow at the college she went to, U.C. Sunnydale.

"I don't want you going alone, Buffy. Not with him!" Riley knew their past, every last painful detail, and he was wary and jealous of Angel.

"Nothing will happen, Riley. You're my boyfriend - and a great one." She hugged him hard, and he gasped; she was strong, stronger than he was by...a lot more than he wanted to think about.

"OK, all right, you can go. Just let me walk you there."

"Walk me there, then. But don't wait for me."

"I won't," he promised. I won't wait - I'll watch.

Buffy nodded. "All right then, let's go."

In a few minutes they were walking into Restfield Cemetery. Buffy strode to the tall wrought iron gate at the front of the old abandoned mansion where Angel lived when he was here, smiled at Riley, and walked in.

Angel was reading, sitting by the fireplace and absentmindedly sipping at a cup of - something. Buffy knew it was pig's blood when she saw him wiping red from his mouth. As she came in, he looked up.

"You're here."

"Yup, and I have some nervous energy to burn off. What do you say we fight?"

"Is that a challenge?"

"If it is, would you meet it?"

He smiled. "You never change, do you?"

His wise amusement pissed her off. She said quietly, almost dangerously, "I don't? I have a new boyfriend."

Angel looked at her for a long minute. "I know. I fought him a while back...remember? So he isn't that new." He was being sharp to cover his hurt, as she could see. But she didn't apologize.

When did we go from saying I'm sorry with a kiss to accepting rude comments from each other? That's... She wanted to say new, but it wasn't new - it was the way it was now, the way it had to be. She stopped. Does it have to be this way? I can at least apologize.

"What a start," she said with a sigh, sitting down on his couch, at home here as in her own house. "You'd think after all this time we would learn to get along as friends."

"It would happen, if..."

She finished silently, if we had always been friends. If we didn't want each other so badly it hurts. They shared a sad look. Suddenly he had sprung up and was at her side.

"Time to fight, Slayer."

And as he said it, she became The Chosen One, the Vampire Slayer of her generation, forgetting that she was Buffy and he was Angel, only knowing that he was the enemy.

"Fight's on." She kicked his left leg, punched his right shoulder, roundhouse kicked him onto the ground - and found herself rolling the other way, her feet swept out from under her. They got up, and he charged her, swept by as she stood aside, lunged and grabbed at her ankles. The Slayer back-flipped out of his grasp, danced to one side, and kicked him in the ribs.

She was already sweaty, and unused to the strain she was putting on her body - since Angel had left, she had rarely had a chance to fight full out, as they did now. She let it all go, and fought as though her life depended on it.

Angel was glad to be back and even gladder to see Buffy. He was content to fight her, if that's what she wanted. She was giving it her all, and she threw herself into the fight, pulling challenging trick moves she had never been taught. But she one-upped him several times, her imagination racing ahead. They anticipated each other's moves, working together but separately, pushing each other to their limits, and helping each other get to a farther point in training.

Riley had found a hole in the side of the mansion, and he heard what they said with bitter anger, and then watched as they fought. He was shocked at the ferocity Buffy showed, and the things she did that she had never tried with him. Angel was good, a lot better than Riley, but Buffy was as good as him. It made the young soldier realize how much she didn't do to him, how much she held back to keep him whole. But with this man, she was pulling out all the stops. It was like a fight to death, and startling to watch. With every move, he saw their skill, saw the precision and togetherness in each move. They had been working together for a long time, he could see.

Watching their battle made him even angrier than he was at Angel, if that was possible. He was everything to Buffy - what could Riley, just a weak human, give her? He had to remind himself that she thought he could give her a lot, that she treasured him, and that she couldn't be with Angel, anyway. Riley kept his eyes on the fighters.

Buffy knew that she was tiring, but she had one move she hadn't pulled on Angel yet. As he showed what she knew was his last trick - a karate kind of thing - Buffy carefully blocked it. The move left his right side open. She played to his left, making the opening bigger, as he defended himself on that side. One more punch, he blocked. Again, she feinted left, but jabbed right, hitting him hard on the right side with all the force she could muster, then using the same trick he had at first used to her, sweep-kicking his feet out form under him. Angel rolled, but she was there above him, straddling him. He waited patiently as she looked down on him, pretending at victory airs. But she was joking - Buffy didn't gloat, she simply won. He was a gracious loser.

"Good fight."

She nodded, finally bending down to lightly tap his heart with her fist as though she was staking him. "I'm the Slayer, after all." She wasn't bragging, just telling. She saw the pride in his eyes for her as he performed a neat flip and stood beside her. Buffy hadn't moved out of the way in time. She was close enough to touch. "I'm glad to see you, Angel." It was the truth, but not all of it. He knew the rest, though - the things they never said after the first time, the reasons they couldn't be together.

He didn't answer, just tossed her a towel, wiping his own brow. After a few minutes, he asked, "Want to stretch?" She nodded, went to the bathroom, and changed into cooler clothes. Side by side, they stretched together, long elegant movements. One stretch required the partner at close quarters. Carefully watching each other, they moved closer. Standing in front of him, but with her back to him, Buffy stretched to the right, then to the left. He lifted her up, his muscles contracting. She kicked to the side, high; suddenly did a wheel-like flip in the air, landing beside him a little distance away, on her feet.

"Ariel cartwheel. A trick you haven't shown me."

"Oh, you have to know that one!" She was surprised. "I'll teach you sometime, when we have the time." Then she put her hand to her head, saying softly, "I guess not, huh? Left side." They stretched to the left, and again he lifted her up. She repeated the cartwheel. Now he moved behind her and they performed more moves together, balletic and graceful, in time together. It wasn't really stretching, more like Tai kwon doe, but more athletic.

Finally calm and stretched out, Buffy collapsed onto the couch, laughing a little. "I haven't had that much fun since - a long time. I love fighting like that, and I never get a chance to anymore, with Riley. I mean, he's strong, but . . ."

"I know what you mean. I don't have much of a chance now, either. There aren't any Slayers in L.A."

"There was one."

"I thought I told you about that, Buffy." His voice was hard, and she could feel his anger building.

"Riley," she called. "Maybe you should leave now. I've let you stay too long."

In his hiding place, Riley frowned. She knew I was there? Darn it. "I'm going."

Buffy called out, "You'd better go. I mean it. If you're still here by the time I count to three, Angel and I will personally come kick you out."

"I'm going." Reluctantly, he left.

"OK, he's gone - I can't feel him here anymore. As we were saying?"

"Can't you drop it? She's in jail; she turned herself into the police for murder. It wasn't anything I wanted to have happen, any of it." They were talking about the rogue Slayer, Faith.

"But it happened!"

He was really angry now, she knew, but she pushed it, anyway, brushing off the sadness that came with his words.

"I told you, Buffy, it isn't your business. I didn't say anything about Riley, except that I don't like him."

She wasn't giving up, her jealousy of anyone Angel liked spinning out of control for a minute. "But you said something, so why can't I have my say?"

He remembered when Faith had kissed him, and Buffy had walked in, wanting to kill her. He had stopped her and sent Faith away while he talked to her. After they exchanged a few very serious punches, angry, he had ordered her to leave L.A. and go back home to Sunnydale. Now, Angel said firmly, "You had your say, and it wasn't verbal. It was physical."

"Right, and now I want a verbal say, if that's all right with you!"

"It isn't alright with me, Slayer. You're envious of Faith, who you know I don't even like! I was putting up with her to see if I could get her to see reason, that's all, and not turn to the dark path like she did!"

"You didn't just put up with her, you -"

His voice was quiet, now, quiet and pained, as he asked, "Why are you forcing me to say this?"

"Because I need it."

He took her shoulders, looking into her beautiful face. "I love you, Buffy Anne Summers."

"Thank you," she whispered.

And finally, when all her fears had been assuaged and she was watching him with only love and sadness in her eyes, he opened his arms. She stepped into the embrace as though she had never left, holding him tightly.

"Oh, Angel. I love you, I love you, I love you. And I always will, no matter what boyfriend I have. You're my love, my true love."

They hugged for a moment that was forever. But as Angel felt desire rising in him, the unquenchable thirst for her touch that was held inside the deepest regions of his un-beating heart, he pulled away from her.

"That was a no-no," she murmured, smiling up at him.

Angel nodded. "Want some pigs’ blood?"

She burst out laughing.

. . .

The End

. . .

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