TITLE: Collisions

AUTHOR: Seersha

RATING: M

PAIRING: Buffy/Angel

SPOILERS: Season 6 of Buffy and season 3 of Angel.

DISTRIBUTION: Please do not archive anywhere. It will be up at FF if you would like to link to it.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters (obviously) and no copyright infringement is intended. No profit is made from this fanfiction.

TIMELINE: Set after the episodes "Wrecked" and "Billy".

SUMMARY: Who else can Buffy turn to?

NOTE: Originally published December 2001.

.-.-.

Buffy could have run to Spike again, like she did before. She could have gone to him and kissed him until their lips were bruised and let him fuck her /hard/ until she could forget that it was him /not Angel/ who was pressed against her and him that was buried inside of her. It would have been easier, but then afterwards she would get that sinking feeling again and it'd be worse than before and nothing would have changed. Everything would be dark again.

She wasn't even sure when it was she decided where she was running, but all Buffy knew was that it was not Spike's crypt she was standing in front of now. She was standing outside the Hyperion hotel and she was trembling. A part of her wanted to run away again, which was funny considering that's what Buffy supposed to be doing. She was running to him /who else is there left to run to?/.

Taking a deep breath, she entered. The moment she did she sensed him and he stopped. Looking up slowly, she saw Angel standing in the middle of the lobby looking at her, his eyes wide with surprise.

"Buffy," he whispered, gaping in shock.

She wanted to smile at him or make even some sort of effort to smile, but she couldn't. "Hi," she said in a shaky voice, "I um, I came to ah... can we talk?"

"Of course," he replied automatically, gesturing to a garden outside.

After a pause in which they just stood staring at each other, Angel began walking out. Refusing to take notice of the four pairs of eyes /Cordy, Wesley and two people she didn't know/ watching her suspiciously, Buffy followed him.

It wasn't until they were outside that it registered to her that this was the first time she'd ever been here, but somehow the place seemed to fit Angel perfectly. He always liked big places because he was usually confined during the day. And gardens. He loved gardens, she knew. Back when he lived in the mansion in Sunnydale he used to spend hours in the gardens meditating and doing Thai Chi. He tried to teach her that once, but she never was able to do it with the same amazing grace he did. Briefly, Buffy wondered if he ever stood out here /shirtless and sweaty/ and did Thai Chi.

"So..." Angel's hesitant voice broke her reverie and she turned slightly to see him looking at her carefully. "You wanted to talk?"

Looking down for a moment, Buffy tried to think of what it is exactly she wanted to say to him. She could feel him watching her intently. After a moment, she meet his gaze with her own.

"I'm not even sure why I came exactly," she admitted, sighing tiredly and sitting down on the nearest stone bench. After a moment, Angel did the same, sitting beside her, careful to be sure their bodies weren't touching.

"It's okay," he assured her softly. "I'm just glad you felt like you could."

"Well, there wasn't anyone else left to go to, so..."

Angel watched her for a moment, wondering what she meant by that. Surely if she wanted to talk, Willow or Xander or Giles would listen. He made a mental note to contact Giles and talk to him about Buffy. She was obviously very unstable at the moment, that much Angel knew just from looking at her.

Taking a breath, she continued talking, which Angel thought was at least a start. "Things have been really messed up lately. I... uh... Giles left the other day." At Angel's surprised look she nodded, "Yeah. Said it was for my own good."

For a moment, he was truly angry at Giles. Buffy was in a very fragile state at the moment. After everything she'd been through, surely now more than ever, she needed support. Not people leaving. Then, of course, came the guilt at such a reaction. He was being a bit of a hypocrite to get so mad at Giles when only three years ago he'd done the same thing. He'd left /for her own good/.

Apparently, Buffy didn't notice his reaction. He focused on her to realize she had continued talking and was babbling about Willow at the moment. "... and then when I... I mean, I just... it's all too much to take right now."

She deflated like a balloon then, a few tears making trails down her cheek as her emotions got the better of her. Gently, Angel reached a hand out intending to hold her. When she saw it, she stood up, putting her hands up. "Don't. Don't touch me," she snapped, sniffing. Then in almost a whisper, "Please."

He was thrown, for a second, on her reaction. During their last visit, the first time he'd seen her since she was resurrected, she'd let him hold her for hours and they'd cried in each others' arms, collapsing as they'd hugged for the first time when Angel had been assured it wasn't a dream. He couldn't understand why she was suddenly so closed off to him.

Watching her worriedly, she paced a bit, looking anywhere but him. Then, after a few minutes of silence, she turned to face him.

"I fucked Spike," Buffy blurted suddenly, watching his reaction. For a moment, she wasn't sure he'd heard her because he just stared blankly at her. Then he blinked.

"Wha-what?" He looked away from her. His brow scrunched a little as he processed what she'd just revealed, then he looked at her again. Almost unable to get the word out, he croaked, "Why?"

She shrugged, trying to fight the tears that threatened to fall at the sight of the deep pain in his eyes. "I wanted to escape. Feel something. He was there."

He swallowed, once again looking away from her, and squeezed his eyes shut tightly. How could he look at her when his mind was forming torturous images of Buffy screaming Spike's name as she came? No, he couldn't look at her.

"Angel, please, look at me," she begged, almost crying now.

But, like always, he couldn't avoid her gaze for long. Finally, he managed the courage /stupidity/ to meet her eyes. Taking an unneeded breath to try and calm himself, he said quietly, "I hope it was worth something to you for the pain you've just caused me."

"No," she denied. "It wasn't worth anything. It was just... sex."

"But why? I mean, why'd you tell me? You didn't have to, it's not like in a million years I'd ever have imagined you fucking Spike. So, why, huh? To see the look in my eyes?"

"God, no. Never," she said, her voice cracking. Moving closer, she knelt in front of him, making him look at her. "I guess I just thought somehow, that telling someone about it would make..."

"... would make you feel better about it," he finished, cutting her off. Silently, she nodded.

"Spike told me... that I'm not the same... since I came back. That I came back wrong. That I'm not entirely human." Buffy reached up and put her hand to his cheek. "Do I feel human?"

"You feel like Buffy," he replied softly, placing his own hand on hers.

A minute of quiet followed, in which they both just stared into each others' eyes. A conflicting part of Angel wanted to jump up in a rage. How could Buffy have gone to Spike and had sex with him? Didn't the fact that Angel had left her to find a nice, human, normal boyfriend mean anything to her? But then of course, there was the other part of him that was trying to comprehend what Buffy had been feeling lately. God help him, Angel was never good at being mad at Buffy. It sometimes meant he hid the pain she caused him from her to prevent her being caused pain from his pain, and that lead days /weeks, months/ of brooding.

"Make love to me, Angel."

Startled, he blinked and moved her hand from his cheek. "What?"

"Am I so low that you wouldn't want me ever again? I mean, I screwed a soulless demon... that's low."

"Buffy..." he began in that soft Angel-voice that he only ever used for her /has he? maybe he's used that tone with Cordelia... it's been so long... how would she know if he has or hasn't?/. "Nothing could ever make me stop wanting you, you know that. But..." He didn't have to continue. She knew what he was going to say. /We can't./

"Please," she pleaded, her voice cracking. Her eyes begging him to understand why she was asking, she pierced his gaze with her own. "Please," she repeated after a pause.

Averting his gaze, Angel sighed. A part of him was disgusted at the fact that a small voice inside him was urging him to claim her as his again because Spike had been buried inside his Buffy. And that was as low as he thought he'd ever been, because it meant that a part of the reason he wanted this was for some sick form of revenge that he hoped would make some of the pain of knowing that Buffy had slept with Spike go away. A creeping feeling of dread and shame began settling itself upon him, and for a moment he felt like dying. After what Buffy felt was forever, he finally turned to her again and let his eyes rest on hers. She was almost startled by what she thought she saw in them... a look of defeat and self-loathing, as if he was hating himself for his decision. Or hating himself for wanting to make this decision.

Then, he nodded simply and took her hand. She felt a jolt go through her at his touch, for a brief moment remembering a night so long ago where she had felt free and completely loved as Angel hovered above her whispering tender words of love in her ears. God, to think of how so much had changed since then was almost torture for her.

Without another word, Angel stood up and lead Buffy into the hotel. It was dark and empty, which meant that the gang had all gone home. Without having to ask, Buffy knew where they were going. Up the stairs to his room /his bed/. She wished she knew when exactly it was that she'd decided the purpose of her visit. At first all Buffy had wanted was to see him... to blurt out all her thoughts and know that Angel would listen. But now she realized that she also came to feel. To drown in him. To escape.

The emptiness and loneliness was too much to bare, and being in Angel's presence only seemed to make it harder. He'd once told her that loneliness was the scariest thing there was. Buffy hadn't truly understood that until recently. And maybe, she mused, that is why she had come here to him, and not run to Spike again. Angel understood. He was the only one who did.

Closing the door behind them once they'd entered his room, Angel moved to face her, standing a few feet away and they stood gazing at one another silently. In that moment, Angel was struck by her beauty. Her once-laughing eyes looked dead. There was a sadness in them that made Angel want to weep, but still Buffy was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

"You won't lose your soul, will you?" she asked.

For a moment he paused and studied her face. This was going to be different, he knew, from their first time together, and all the other times she didn't remember and all the times he used to dream about feeling her around him as he made /sweet/ love to her. This wasn't going to be about perfect happiness... not for him and not for her. He wasn't even sure it was about love, although he knew he loved her more than anything else in the world.

At the same time though, he knew it wasn't meaningless. How could anything with Buffy be meaningless? Perhaps whatever it meant to do this tonight, no matter how small /or fleeting/, would be worth nothing when they woke up afterwards and the reality of it all came crashing /colliding/ down on them. Maybe she'd regret ever coming or maybe she'd hate him for not knowing better /and he did, didn't he?/. But right now, no matter how much he wanted to, Angel couldn't turn her a way. Somehow, in this moment, they both needed for this to happen.

"No," he finally answered, knowing the truth in his words, just as she knew them, too.

"Good," she said, stepping forward until only centimetres of space separated them. Tilting her head upwards, she gazed into his dark /beautiful, penetrating... sad/ eyes. They seemed to look into her soul, and she had an almost uneasy feeling about it. She was afraid he would be able to see things inside of her that she didn't ever want him to see or know.

"Is this what you want?" he asked hoarsely. "Are you sure?"

Nodding, she cupped his face with her hands and urged his head down until their lips met.

All rational thoughts fled, and Angel didn't even try to resist. He let his vampiric urges to claim her... to show her that he could fuck her and make her come harder than Spike ever could, take control. He wanted to be sure that when she came, she screamed his name. He matched her passion, even challenging it, returning the kiss equally, moving his hands around her waist to pull her body /hard/ against his. When their bodies met, they both gasped a little, breaking the kiss for a moment.

Thoughts of what the consequences /gut wrenching agony and pain/ would be afterwards threatened to invade Angel's mind, but before he could have enough time to dwell on any of them, Buffy claimed his lips again and his mind went blank.

She was almost unrecognizable to him now. It was almost as if some primal and demanding and relentless urge had overtaken her. There was no doubt or hesitation in the way she kissed him or the way her hands touched him. She ran them over his shoulders trying to bring him closer still, down his chest and under his shirt to sweep over his cool flesh. He moaned at the feeling, moving his own hands to the small of her back and letting them slip under her tank top, gently rubbing her heated skin.

Buffy began moving forward, not releasing his lips for a moment, urging him to back up until his legs hit his bed. Finally breaking the kiss and panting hard, she gave his chest and hard push and he fell backwards onto the mattress.

Looking up at her, Angel saw lust and desire clouding her eyes and he was sure his eyes were exactly the same. Crawling after him, she crouched above him and looked down at him for a moment. He thought he saw a flicker of hesitation, but it was gone in an instant as she grabbed his shirt and ripped the material open, exposing his hard chest to her mouth, which she trailed over his cool skin. Nipping and kissing her way down, she paused when she reached his belt and looked up at him again.

Understanding, Angel nodded. There was no turning back now, and even though he knew he would blame himself afterwards for yielding to her, he couldn't tell her no. He couldn't deny her.

As Buffy continued to undress him, Angel let his head fall back in defeat /and pleasure and ecstasy/ and shame onto the bed and he looked straight up.

When this was over and they awoke naked with entangled limbs beneath his cotton sheets, maybe Buffy would leave from here and Angel would be content in the knowledge that this act somehow opened her to a revelation, just as his night of passion with Darla had.

But a deeper part of Angel knew that this would not end happily. Maybe Buffy would leave before he even stirred from sleep. Maybe there would be a note from Buffy telling him she was sorry or maybe there wouldn't. Maybe all that was left to greet them afterwards was the /darkness/ emptiness that tonight they both sought to escape.

/Forgive me Buffy./

.-.-.

END