Title: Fools for Love
Author: Crazy_Girl_Mary
Email: crazy_girl_mary@yahoo.com
Rating: PG
Pairings: B/A
Summary: What if Buffy had gotten into Angel’s mind in Earshot? What would she find there? This is my second contribution for the Lyric Wheel, and you can find the lyrics used below.
Disclaimer: I’m so damn sick of admitting they aren’t mine. Don’t make me do it!
Feedback: Pretty pretty pretty please? I’ll give you a cookie!

He stared at her, weak and innocent looking on the couch, and was powerless to save her from what she would find. “Don’t,” he protested, maybe even pleaded, “those things that are inside me, you don’t wanna hear.”

She turned her head away in embarrassment. He knew what she was trying to do, knew she was persistent, so probably knew she would succeed too. “Tell me,” she said lightly, then she turned to look at him again, “tell me what it’s like.”

He stared at her for only a moment then confessed. “It’s a fire,” he said slowly. “I keep seeing the salvation I desire, this wonderful life, another chance, and it’s always just out of my reach.”

Buffy shuddered, catching a physical glimpse of just what he saw that second chance as, a happy life with her, on a beach in the sun. He looked wrought and vulnerable, like a defeated man, and with the beast hungry inside him, defeated just wouldn’t do. She knew Angelus was inside, and he had told her he hated that; so she knew he would fight his hardest to change his fate, to break free of his noble cage. Angel couldn’t give up, couldn’t give in.

“What does he say to you?” she asked lightly. She’d rather him tell her then have to go prodding around for it against his wishes.

He didn’t look as confused or surprised as she had expected, and any surprise quickly faded to fear and moroseness. “He speaks to me in sentences, a voice inside my head as if he were standing right next to me, he’s in this room too, always with me.” He looked away from her. “He’s saying he can’t breathe through this mask, like a fool… I’m his mask and make him feel like a fool… he sings, he’s happy.”

Buffy stood from her couch, grasping a little bit of her temporarily lost dominance, and followed him across the room. He was speaking so low and averting her eyes at any cost that she had to come closer to hear what her curiosity wouldn’t protect her from, see what her eyes would never learn to avoid. “He talks about you… breathe on sister, breathe on because this life is a farce.”

“What does he mean?” Buffy asked him lightly.

“He means that nothing relative to me is real, he’s the real one, and you can breathe now while he’s helpless to change it but every time I’m around you he stirs and fights harder, every time I’m around you I get weak, and he gets stronger. He’s just biding his time until he gets out again.”

“He’s not going to get out again,” Buffy said with conviction, running her hand down his arm to try and comfort him only to have him jerk it away and look at her with those tear-glossed soulful eyes that made her melt, and in doing so question her previous statement. They were made for each other, she had never been so sure of anything in her entire life, then how could she avoid it, and how could he avoid happiness when she was completely sure just the sight of her lit him up inside.

He had dreaded telling her, despite the fact he was sure his confession his testimony might lift a weight off of his shoulder. He didn’t want things to be any more awkward then they already were. He knew he couldn’t keep his feelings from her; everything that had happened, with Angelus, with Faith, it was always on his mind, and he could see it was on hers. The truth was, she knew nothing about the way he felt, and was justifiably curious.

They were both champions of the good, but she didn’t have a dark side, a demon, not yet, he doubted ever, she knew nothing about being tortured. Sometimes he feared what she was doing, had done with him, had been a big mistake in her eyes, her quest for a little uncontrollable danger, a little zest.

“Angel,” she repeated lightly, “He’s not going to get out again.”

“Yes,” a slow menacing voice replied and his face seemed to crumble in front of her. After the initial shock stepped aside she realized that not only had the voice not been real, but it had not been his.

“He sounds so sure,” Angel protested, “I’m not even sure, so how can I fight him?”

“I’m sure!” Buffy said going to his side again. “I’m sure and that’s all that matters. I’m with you, we can fight him together.” She took her hand again, and this time she held tight against his avoidance.

“That’s just it,” he said lightly, he was almost crying, “we can’t do anything together.” He pulled away a little stronger now and backed up against the wall, his body language wasn’t what she had learned to expect from him. His normal graceful, tall, and confident, had become hunched over and clumsy, trying to avoid even her glance. “We shouldn’t even be in the same room.”

Buffy gaped at him. She wanted to be selfish. How could he say that? How could he hurt her like that? She knew it was her own safety he always considered.

“Nothing is going to happen,” she said slowly wrapping her arms around him, “just let me stay for a little while… hold you.” She added the later in a slow cautious voice.

He looked at her with those pain and tear glossed eyes and she could see him give in. She took his hand and slowly led him to the couch. She sat down and he sat next to her, put his head against her chest and her shirt was soon wet from his silent wracking. She had never seen him like this, never even imagined he could be like this. He loved her, and she loved him, more intense on both accounts then they had ever expected love could be, but why did it have to always be so painful?

They were just there, together, the three of them, two, on the verge of emotional death, one thriving on emotional life, a life that couldn’t be more devastating. “Please,” he was whispering now, “please… please.” There were a million things he could be begging for and she didn’t have the heart to ask or the desire to know, she just wanted to hold him, she wanted to hear him, she wanted to know him.

His tears soon earned hers and she began to gently rock him while his wracking and crying continued. Her tears were easily justified, while her lover was crying gently and weakly in her lap, her worst enemy was promising her death. Maybe we are fools for thinking that we can fight him and we can wear the masks, and help our love at a distance, but then again maybe we are just fools for love.

~~~***The End***~~~

The lyrics that inspired this lyric wheel fic are below…

"It's a Fire"
by Portishead

It's a fire
These dreams they pass me by
This salvation I desire
Keeps getting me down
Cos we need to
Recognise mistakes
For time and again
So let it be known for what we believe in
I can see no reason for it to fail
Cos this life is a farce
I can't breathe through this mask
Like a fool
So breathe on, sister breathe on

From this oneself
Testify or tell
Its fooling us now
So let it be known for what we believe in
I can see no reason for it to fail
Cos this life is a farce
I can't breathe through this mask
Like a fool
So breathe on, little sister, breathe on
Ohh so breathe on, little sister, like a fool