Timeline: set during "The Yoko Factor" BTVS season four.
Angel is distressed by his and Buffy's apparent lack of connection.
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Enjoy.
As soon as I round the corner from her room, I stop walking. Just stand, listening. A few seconds later I hear the door slam, and the muffled voices of my ex-love and her new man talking. It sounds as if she's trying to soothe him. Don't blame her. I wasn't feeling exactly confidently chipper myself.
I push my way throught the swinging doors, the "Stevenson Hall" sign above me lit brightly in the soft Sunnydale night. Why did I come here? Was is really for her? Or was it for me?
It means a lot that you came.
Did it, Buffy? Or were you just saying that? Had we gotten to a place where we just automatically told the other we still cared about each other? Had it been so long since the true feelings were worn away by time and separation?
I sigh, raking a hand through my hair. Why were things never easy for me? The Faith situation for one. I had almost gotten through to her. I could feel her ready and willing to try to change, to be different, to make a new life. Then Buffy had burst in, and that connection between Faith and I had disappated like a soap bubble.
God, that had hurt.
You hit me!
Not to go all schoolyard on you, but you hit me first.
What, were you going to punish her with a severe cuddling?
Do you have…any…idea what she did to me?
Yes.
Do you care?
Oh, yes I did. I do. That was one of the reasons behind my trying to help Faith. I understood. I knew, I know, what she had been through. How she had felt. Why she did what she did to Buffy. Not that I condoned it. Far from it. But I've been in that place, where the walls close in on you, and the tiny pinprick of light you can see at the end of the tunnel turns out to be the onrushing A train and your feet are tied to the tracks.
Wesley had filled me in a little on what had gone down between the two of them. How Faith had "stolen" Buffy's identity and done everything in her power to ruin what Buffy had. To get revenge. But revenge comes with a really high price. And having Buffy find us together like that, that was Faith's price.
Can Buffy ever forgive her? I don't know. I know that when I heard the shoes clacking down my stairs, hers was the last face I expected to see. Still beloved, after so long.
And to see the look in her eyes, god. I tried to get as much physical distance between me and Faith as possible, but I know all Buffy could see was Faith crying and my open shirt.
I try to do the right thing. I know my mission. Helping Faith had been a part of that. I hadn't been lying to Buffy when I told her that saving souls was my job now. But I hadn't know it would rip at me so much just to see her again. Just to feel her around me, smell her hair, watch her fight, listen to her voice. I still have it. The intoxication. The attachment. The love? Do I?
I walk down the cobbled path that leads away from her dorm, but feel my heart stay there in the tiny room, full of so many touches of her that it had been almost painful to take in. Clothes strewn about, books haphazardly placed on the desks. The posters on the wall. So young, but so old at once.
Hitting the streets of Sunnydale proper, I pass the coffee joint Buffy and her friends used to frequent on the way to my car. Hesitate, and then I decide to go in for a few minutes. I have plenty of time to get back to L.A. And to be honest, I could use a break from all the lovely fun crap that has been thrown at me recently.
I order a plain roast, and take a seat in the corner. Time to do some serious thinking here. I close my eyes, take an unneccessary breath and inhale the aroma of coffee. Even if I don't need it, it's a nice pick me up once in a while.
I have someone in my life now.
I know him. I trust him.
You don't know me anymore. Go home.
See? Faith wins again.
I try to shake off the memories was a large slug of coffee, but they still tug at my conciousness, kicking my guilt chip into overdrive.
How could we have said those things to one another? Did she mean them?
You saw the boy. You saw the way she looked at him. She does love him.
And isn't that fair? Doesn't she deserve some happiness? Isn't that why you left? To give her that chance?
Damn.
Do I always have to be so damn noble? Why for once in my long life can I not just take a chance and seize what I want?
I know why, dumbass.
His voice whispers inside my head, and with great effort I push him back down into the cage where he belongs.
The mission, Angel. That's what's important. Doyle gave his life for the mission. The least you can do is honor his sacrifice by continuing on. Help the helpless.
So why do I have to feel so miserable doing it?
I hate that Buffy and I have grown so far apart. I hate it.
I used to be able to read her every thought just by looking in her eyes. She could read me just with a simple touch. Hell, she saved my life. I saved hers. How could we have drifted so far apart?
I do want her to have a normal life. But why can't I be a part of that?
These theories and thoughts circle endlessly around my mind like a vulture circling fresh prey. I bolt out of my chair, crunching my cup and tossing it a little too brutaly into the trash. The children sitting in the chairs next to the garbage can give me a weird look, but I'm beyond caring at this point. I walk stiffly to the street, coat flapping behind me like some angry bird, and find my parked GTX as quickly as possible.
I feel her before I see her.
"Angel, wait!" she's breathless as she runs up behind me. I turn slowly, really and truly afraid this time. Has she suddenly remembered some new barb to sling at me?
"Please, Buffy, it's probably better for me to just go. You said so yourself…"
She stands a few centimeters away from me, chest heaving with the effort she had to expend running after me.
"I forgot to give you something," she says.
"Yes?" I ask, still quivering at her nearness, and oh so afraid of what comes next.
She kisses me.
A shock runs through me from my lips to my toes. I stand stock still first, not knowing what to do. Then, it all comes flooding back, and I squeeze her upper arms and lean into it.
Do you love me?
What?
Do you?
I love you. I don't know if I trust you.
Heart? You have a heart? It isn't even beating.
Buffy…Don't.
Don't what? Don't love you? I didn't know I had a choice in the matter.
How can we be together when the cost is your life? Or the lives of others?
I felt your heart beat.
She pulls away from me at last, and I let my hands fall to my sides, my eyes not wanting to open, not wanting to break the spell and have to be back in the world again, the world that doesn't have BuffyandAngel in it. That close. Forever.
I finally do open my eyes, and she's just watching me, slow tears leaking out onto her cheeks.
"I… almost forgot to give you that. Keep it safe. We may need it again someday."
"What?" I ask her, not sure what she's referring to.
"Our love, Angel. It's still there. Don't lose it. It's just a tiny spark now, but if we let it go out…"
I feel my own tears start to form. I have no words. I just nod my head, too choked up to trust my voice.
She turns to go, and heads back up the street away from me, risking one glance back, and in that one glance, I see the hope I thought I had buried forever in her eyes.
As I watch my love walk away from me, I realize what my mission is. Help the Helpless. Save the souls. Keep that tiny spark of life, of love, from snuffing out. 'Cause nothing else matters if its flame isn't lighting up a tiny corner of my soul.
As I resume getting back into my car, all the confusion and uncertanty of the past few days drops away. My monkey mind finally slows down, and I know for sure I made the right decision to come here and see her.
Thank you for the gift, Buffy. I won't lose it.