Backstage
By Lisa Martin
"You want me to be somewhere where you can keep an eye on me, right?" It's a long shot, but it pays off.
"Yeah. You know me too well, pet. I can't be with you the way you want me to, but I don't want to lose you all together."
"Let's be friends." Does that sound bitter? Guess it does.
"Fucking lame I know. And the answer is no. I want more, but not now."
And that's that. He won't budge, no matter what I'll do. It makes me want to throw things, but that won't help either. His mind is made up. In a way I can understand it. After three years the grief over Buffy isn't gone yet and he doesn't want to burden me with it. I have my own load to carry and it's still a pretty heavy load. There's too much standing between us. I nod. "Okay."
"That's it, okay??"
I shrug. "Not much more to say, is there?"
He looks pensive. "Guess not."
"So, what do we do? I just pack my things now and go?" Bitterness peeks around the corner again.
His hand drops away from my face. I watch it reach down and take my hand.
"You can do that, and I won't blame you. But could you stay until we leave New York?"
He's pleading, I can't believe it! For a second I'm tempted to tell him to go to hell, but that sounds a bit redundant. "For what reason?"
"Because I want you to."
Anger whips through me. "Hang around here and feel sorry for myself? No thanks!"
He sighs, a weird sound. "Xan please." Then he gazes directly at me. "Feel sorry for yourself?"
"Yeah," I tell him in a tone of voice one usually reserves to address a four year old. "I just told you I love you, you pushed me away, how am I supposed to feel??"
"Lousy," he admits. "So do I. Bloody 'ell, I wish I could do this differently.."
That does it. I jerk my hand from his grip and jump out of the bed. Pulling on my jeans with one hand and grabbing the rest of my clothes with the other I head for the door. He's there first.
"Get out of my way!"
"No. Not until I do this." He hauls me to him and before I know what hits me, his mouth covers mine. One hand is on the back of my head, the other one holds my hip. I can't back away. My clothes drop to the floor when my arm decides to wrap itself around his waist. I don't want to give in, but he leaves me no choice. My mouth opens under his and the kiss becomes one of the most intense I have ever experienced. It's passionate and yet not. Filled with a love I thought I'd never find, wasn't worthy of. When I have to break it because of severe oxygen problems, there is no doubt in my mind; he loves me. I lean my head against his shoulder.
"Oh God."
"I love you," I hear him whisper in my ear. "Give me some time, luv, please."
To hear a Master Vampire begging is something else, I tell you. There were times I would've laughed in his face for doing this. Laughed and then staked him. A wave of triumph rushes through me, but I battle it down with force. This is not the vampire I met years ago. He's not out to kill me, not even to feed from me. He wants my love and my patience. The first I can give him, the latter I'm not so sure of. Yet, I have to if I want to keep him with me. I lift my head and face him.
"Okay. I'll give you time. But don't take too long, I'm not going to live forever."
"Don't you think I know that??" he snarls. "That's the whole bloody point!!"
And I don't want that discussion, thank you. "I know," I say soothingly. "Just remember that."
"I will, I do. Thought of nothing else for the last few weeks. So, will you stay?"
How can I not? Suddenly every minute with him is a treasure, something to cherish. "Yes." He smiles an open and gentle smile and I see relief in his eyes. He was scared.It's just one surprise after another tonight and I am amazed by the fact that I'm not even surprised anymore. Overload, probably.
"Come on." I take his hand and lead him back to the bed. After discarding my jeans, I roll onto the bed, back into his arms. It's good, it's safe, a quiet spot outside time and place. It's mine.
The days go by quickly, too quickly. I hang onto every minute, but have to watch it slip by me none the less. I have decided to leave before the band does, catching a red eye flight back to LA. It means leaving just before the last concert is over, it also means saying goodbye to him before that concert.
We stand in the dressing room, looking at each other. He's wearing one of my T-shirts, one he nicked out of my bag. Never knew vampires could be so sentimental.
"Luv.." he starts. I don't want to talk, so I just close the distance
between us and draw him in my arms. Broken whispers reach my ears, words I have heard many times over the last couple of days. "Please wait. Love you."
"I promise," I whisper. "Love you."
And then it's over. He gets called on stage and I watch him go, his back turned to me, not looking back. I take my bag and walk out of the building.