Title: Unhappily Ever After
Author: Phaedra's Love
Fandom: BtVS/Angel
Pairing: Buffy/Angel
Disclaimer: I do not own any of this, it all belongs to Joss. Please don't sue me as I am very very poor.
"Why didn't you call me?"
Her voice is like pinpricks on the back of his neck and he curses himself for not sensing her the moment she entered the building let alone his office. Wolfram and Hart has sensors, alarms to alert all staff to a vampire on the premesis and suddenly Angel thinks having a slayer alarm might not be such a bad addition.
"Buffy?" Just her name but his voice is low, dark. It carries with it the weight of years and years worth of things unspoken between the two of them. When his dark eyes meet her's he wonders over and over again how he could have ever left her. Because no matter what happens to him, no matter how many other women he finds comfort with? None of them will ever be Buffy Summers.
"Why didn't you call me?" She demands again, taking slow but deliberate steps farther into his office, pale eyes cutting through the distance and into his soul. At least that's how it feels to him whenever she's around.
"Call you?" He asks her, confusion etching it's way across his pale skin.
"I mean first you lose your soul and I don't even want to know how that happened by the way. But you lose your soul and you have Faith and Willow help you without even telling me."
"Buffy, you were busy-"
"And then you take over Wolfram and Hart? Which from the way Giles tells it is like the Mecca of all evil. That's saying alot considering the last big bad was the original source of all evil." She cuts him off quickly, eyes narrowed as she studies him in a way that he can't quite put his finger on.
He feels like a bug under a microscope suddenly and that particular feeling has never brought out the best in him.
"I don't have to explain myself to you. I thought you were off being...cookie dough." He knows its a low blow before the words even leave his mouth, still the sentiment remains. He's seperated himself from her for a reason, because some things just aren't allowed. Like true happiness. It's not fair that his curse is her burden but if it's what thing that Angel has learned in the past few centuries is that life isn't fair. Death was the least fair of all.
"That's not fair."
There's a faint tremble in her voice and he instantly stops and lowers his head, putting his palm against the back of his neck. Because he knows that the only reason he can hear it is because he's a vampire. The only reason he can hear it is because he created the hate in her. The demon inside of him comes alive, scratching and screaming at the walls. Wanting to claim her. That's why he stays as far from her as he possibly can. That's why he's wishing she would just leave.
"I have things to do." His tone is meant to be stern and cold but it lacks something she immediately picks up on.
Turning his back to her he sits down at his desk, glancing glumly down at the stack of documents waiting for his signed approval.
"There's something else."
His pen freezes in mid-air as her words send more razorblades down his spine. Picking his chin up he glances up at her face. Just wants to touch her and so he clenches his jaw harder, steels himself for whatever's coming next.
"I'm getting married."
It's like someone punched him in the gut, he involuntarily sucks in a breath and hunches over in his chair. Getting married? To who? He's dealt with her boyfriends and lets be honest her track record? Not that great with Spike and that asshole Riley in the mix. His frown grows deeper as he swallows hard over the lump growing in his throat.
"To who?" Angel finally asks.
"The Immortal. I know...you guys have had your problems in the past but he's different now."
Problems? He arches an eyebrow at that. How about chaining him and Spike up in a basement dungeon for days until Darla finally rode in to the rescue? How about having his way with Darla and Dru while he and Spike were out on the town? How about throwing them out of Rome when it was their city first.
His hand tightens into a painful fist.
"Why? Why did you come all the way back here to tell me that? It's none of my business." He replies and this time is voice is just as gruff as he means it to be. If she wants to run off with that fucking jerk-off he's not going to stop her. It's not his place anymore.
"Because I want you to tell me not to." She replies honesty and he instantly perks at the sound of it. "Talk me out of it, Angel. Please. Tell me there's some chance that someday..."
He stares at her like he wants to, because does want to. He wants her. When he stares at her for long enough the picture blurs and she's in his arms where she belongs. Where she's always belonged. He tells her that there is a someday, that one of these days he's going to find a miracle cure and they're going to be together the way things should have been from the start. Happily ever after. Truly.
It's not fair, but he's never hated her enough to lie to her. Not even now. Not even with the idea that the other guy was winning. That he was losing, had been lost from the minute he'd set his eyes on her.
"You should marry him." He says instead of the beautiful lie and instantly takes his eyes off of her.
He deserves the pain, the loss, the inability to ever have the things he truly wants. He deserves it all and more but Buffy? He just wants her to be happy, it's all he's ever wanted. He wants to live in a world where his own unhappiness didn't directly effect her's.
"Angel?"
He rolls his eyes because she can't possibly make this easy on him, he should've know that from the minute he heard her voice.
"Just go, Buffy. You've made your decision. Go marry him. What I do here has nothing to do with you and what you do in Rome has nothing to do with me. Leave." He wishes he could muster enough anger but instead his voice comes out flat and low.
He picks up his pen and poises it over an official looking document that he hasn't even bothered to read. Clenching his jaw as hard as he can. One. Two. Three. Finally footsteps before the door slams hard behind her. He winces at the noise.
Standing up he walks to the window of his office and stares through the glass into the sunshine that he can never quite touch. His eyes follow the slight blonde that moves onto the sidewalk and he wants. He wants so bad it takes every bit of his self-control to resist the urge to run right out into that sunlight, into those flames. To hell and back again and all for her.
"Damn slayer. What is she thinkin' runnin' off with that git?" Spike's voice behind him doesn't even merit a response from Angel. He's too busy brooding and even he knows it.
"She's had bad taste in men ever since I broke up with her." He replies in the same flat tone. "You were eavesdropping and last I checked you didn't have a curse, Spike. Why don't you go after her? Convince her not to marry him." He hates that his voice is almost pleading but he understands that even Spike is a better choice than The Immortal. If he had to choose.
"Because it's not about me, mate. Never will be."
Angel takes comfort in that.