Summary: What if Riley knew about Angel long before Buffy finally told him? How did he find out?
Disclaimer: Not mine. Never will be. All material, characters etc., belong to their rightful owners. The song lyrics used in the letter are "If you only knew," which belongs to Shinedown.
Rating: PG-ish? Nothing bad.
Pairings: B/R, B/A.
Timeline: Set sometime in the fourth season, before New Moon Rising, AU, where Buffy and Angel are still somewhat involved, and at least keeping in close contact.
A/N: Okay I don't particularly like this work. It's not my best. I was tired, but in the mood to write. Was hoping it would help me get past the writer's block I'm having trying to finish the 2nd chapter of Hey Baby, I'm Back. I stuck some song lyrics in there because I was having issues getting it realistic around the letter. Music captures passionate emotion, which is what I was going for, and I think it worked.
Feedback: Please, please, please! It'll make for a better read for you next time, I promise! Let me know what you think of the song lyrics-as-letter thing. I like it but I need a second opinion...and third...and fourth...
Distribution: If you want it, comment or message me, and let me know where it's going. Thanks=D
Thanks for reading guys, and enjoy!
Keeping Secrets
Yesterday, I believed that we would be together forever. That's all I wanted. You know, the usual stuff. I wanted to marry Buffy and have children and family dinners and soccer practice and first days of kindergarten and all that crap. I wanted all that. But she'll never love me. Yesterday, it seemed like all that could be in the cards for us. But now I know better. If only I didn't know what I now know. If only her past still remained a blissful mystery to me.
It all started several days ago when I was alone in Buffy's and Willow's dorm room in Stevenson Hall, waiting for them to get out of class. I was sitting, bored as hell, thinking about what I would wear for our date tonight. We were gonna catch a movie and dinner. A normal date for us normal folk…except we're not normal and never will be, as much as I want us to be.
Anyways, I stood up to raid her closet in search of a button down she had stolen a few weeks back, when a box dropped off the top shelf. Maybe it was fate, or God trying to give me a sign. Either way I wish they would just butt out. The box hit me in the head. Very smooth. I've had more near-concussions since I met Buffy than ever before. The box was square, medium sized, and cardboard. Average by all accounts. The only distinguishing feature was the word "ANGEL," scrawled in all caps in Buffy's messy handwriting across the front. What a strange thing to write on a box, I thought. It was just a box. It didn't feel like anything personal. How wrong I was…
I placed the box on the bed, and dusted it off, before pulling it open. I looked down into it. A number of items were collecting dust in the bottom. I pulled out a well-worked men's leather jacket. It had vampire dust in the pockets and blood stained the inside lining, almost invisible against the red silk. Nothing to worry about, I thought, it's probably some long forgotten boyfriend's. A thick plain white envelope, a packet of letters on fine, off white paper, and a packet of photos from the local One Hour Photo still remained in the box.
First I pulled out the thick packet, and emptied it onto the bed's surface. Three things fell out: A thick silver cross necklace, a worn book of old poetry and a tiny silver ring, which I estimated to be about Buffy's size. I focused my attentions on the book for a moment. It was hardcover, a first edition. I wondered how my girlfriend had gotten her hands on this. It was worth about a fortune.
The packet of photos was fairly thin, and sure enough, upon opening I found only four shots tucked inside the overly flashy commercial envelope. The first was a group shot of the whole Scooby gang that looked to be a few years old. Buffy's hair was chopped just below the shoulders, and she was surrounded by Mr. Giles, Willow, Xander, Oz, and a pretty brunette who sat on Xander's lap. Buffy herself was hanging off a ladder that was leaned up against the library stacks that they posed in front of. An attractive, dark haired older man dressed all in black with his shirt unbuttoned down his pale chest had his arm wrapped around Buffy's waist, and her arm was comfortably thrown over his broad shoulders. His other hand sat high on her thigh, bared by a skintight miniskirt. He was a man, and not a boy, that much was clear to me. Competition I never knew I had. A hint of worry started to course through me.
The next photo was of Buffy, once again with the handsome man. They were on a beach, after dark, staring into each other's eyes. There was a passion in Buffy's eyes that I had never seen in her before. That passion was matched in the beautiful man, his face pale in the moonlight. They both wore such unguarded expressions and clearly didn't know they were being photographed. Oh God.
The third photo was another group shot, this time without Buffy in it. It featured the man from the previous photos, with the brunette who had been with Xander, and another man, shorter and less attractive. He had his arm around the girl, who was trying to playfully shove him off. On the back was scribbled, "A.I. 1999, Angel, Cordelia, and Doyle." Angel. What a dumb name for a man.
The fourth and final photo sat in front of me, facedown on the coverlet. With a deep breath I flipped it over. Oh God. Buffy, my Buffy, had her lips pressed desperately to Angel's, the close up shot showing every bit of passion and love flowing between them. In that moment it was clear. Things like that just don't go away. She had lied to me…or at least not told me the whole truth. She was keeping secrets. I knew in that instant that things would never be the same.
But I had to be sure. So I picked up the last item, the bundle of letters. This felt so wrong somehow. Too personal for my eyes. But I had to know. I carefully unknotted the string wrapped around them, opened the top letter and began to read…
Dear Beloved…I'm hanging by a thread…It's four-oh-three…and I can't sleep…Without you next to me, I toss and turn, like the sea…If you only knew…I'd sacrifice my unbeating heart before I lose you…If I drown tonight, bring me back to life…I don't regret a single day, a night we shared, or a letter that I sent…The only thing that I still believe in is you…Oh god, If you only knew…Mo croi, I love you…forever…that's the whole point…With love, A.
I slowly read and reread the passionate words, every one cutting like a knife, with the realization that there was someone out there who loved her more than me. Who she loved more than me. Then my common sense kicked in. This was some high school romance…It has to be, I thought. And then I saw the date. Just two weeks ago. It wasn't over. It never would be.
I silently put everything slowly back into the box, closed it and put it away. I also simultaneously locked the information swirling in my brain into a drawer in the back of my mind. Buffy walked in. I smiled and kissed her and pretended everything was alright. After all, keeping secrets…it's what I'm good at, right? As it turns out, we both are.
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