Rating: PG-13
Pairing: B/A – what else? g
Timeline: BtVS Season 4/AtS Season 1Spoilers: Specifically AtS 1.8 I Will Remember You, BtVS 4.9 Something Blue, 4.10 Hush, 4.11 Doomed. I've made various changes to all of these, but I've pretty much maintained the original plotlines of each. And, um, Angel canon after I Will Remember You does not exist, and thus Doyle does not die.
Author's Notes: MUST READ BEFORE READING FIC. V. IMPORTANT. Ah yes. This is another IWRY rewrite. I suck, yes. However, I think I've attacked it differently than most: I don't think I've ever stumbled upon this particular plotline before. If someone has done it before, let me know, kay? Anyhow, this idea came into being one day when I was re-watching that lovely gorgeous episode and thought, 'What if their hands didn't touch? What if they stuck to the mature plan? And then what if they freaked out and didn't call each other?' And thus, a fic was born. I thought it would be interesting to see if I could do it, because I've read so many of these damn fics that just piss me off because they all employ the same old tired clichés: Buffy gets pregnant; Riley and Angel get into a fight; Buffy remembers after Angel has the day rewound; the Oracles intervene; and I'm sure you guys can add a few more in there. Suffice to say, I tried to steer away from this stuff, and hey, I even made Riley nice. That is, I made him act like he did in canon at that time, which, um, was nice. /thinly veiled poke at people who insist on writing Riley as a jealous bastard pre-The Yoko Factor, when he got a reason to be a jealous bastard. Anyway, since this could now be considered a foreword, I will go away and let you read the fic. Hopefully you enjoy it.
Beta-ed by S.J. Smith
Feedback is always valued, loved and adored. g
---
Ice Cream
---
Buffy sighed as she opened the door of room 214 Stevenson Hall to find the lights out and nobody home. Flicking the light on and making her way to the CD player to put on Sarah McLachlan, she figured Willow was at the library, or maybe Xander's. It didn't matter though, because as she flopped onto her bed, she was grateful for her solitude; despite having just had two hours plus on a bus to mull things over, she still couldn't get her head around the weekend's events.
Angel was human.
Human. Heart-beatingly, food-eatingly, walking-in-the-sunlighty human. When she'd seen him walking along the pier, black coat flapping almost ridiculously in the sunlight, and he'd pulled her into that beautiful, sensuous, mind-shattering kiss, she'd thought all her dreams had come true at once. That someone up there had taken a look in her head and decided it was her turn to find the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. That it was her turn to be happy. Right now, she should have been in bed with Angel, eating ice cream and chocolate, and generally just basking in the glow of love.
Of course, thanks to tea, crackers and quite probably a combination of slayer/ex-vampire stubbornness, caution, stupidity and the inability to see something right under their respective noses, she wasn't. She was alone in her dorm room with Sarah McLachlan, Mr Gordo and a distinct lack of chocolate.
Bring on the angst.
---
Over in LA, Angel wasn't really faring much better. Armed with the cookie dough fudge mint chip ice cream Cordelia had bought him, he was in full-on brood mode, staring rather morosely at the phone. He wanted to call her; his fingers were aching to pick up the phone and to dial the number that he had permanently tattooed on his brain, but said brain said to give her space and that she'd call him when she was ready.
Sometimes he really hated his brain.
What if she was waiting for him to call? Why hadn't they established this properly? Why hadn't they figured out just who was calling who at what time so he wouldn't have to go through this mindless agonising? Did it matter who rang first? Why had they even done this? Why weren't they in his bed making love and eating ice cream? Why did they always make things so damned difficult for themselves?
The questions shot around his head in about ten thousand different directions, and he closed his eyes, wishing for the time, back before her seventeenth birthday, when everything had been simpler. They were together because they were, and even though they were Slayer and vampire, it worked. Then had come Angelus and nothing had ever been the same. They had still loved each other, but there had just been so much pain and longing and angst.
Except, as the little voice in his head kept reminding him, there was no curse now. Angelus had been banished forever. They could have as much happy as they liked and absolutely nothing would happen, with the possibility of maybe exploding with joy.
Angel banged his head on the desk. Oh, the pain.
At least the ice cream was good.
---
It was an eventful next few days. Doyle was overjoyed to discover he no longer possessed the brain-splintering migraine-inducing head-cracking visions, and went out to celebrate with such vigour that Cordelia had to drag him home at four o'clock in the morning. Literally. Cordelia was disgruntled to discover that since there wasn't really a point for Angel Investigations to exist anymore, she'd actually have to find a real job. It was an odd and sobering thought. Doyle was in the same position as Cordelia, and they spent their days at the office formerly known as Angel Investigations looking for jobs and making sure Angel didn't overdose on ice cream or do something stupid, like attempt to go on patrol in his weakened human state and as a result be eaten by vampires.
Over in Sunnydale, madness and mayhem reigned as usual. After the Thanksgiving break ended, Willow and Buffy went back to classes. Psych TA Riley Finn attempted to ask Buffy out on several occasions, but Buffy studiously avoided him, so he never got the chance. Giles chained Spike up in his bathtub and suffered two days of the vampire snitting about Passions before the bleached idiot escaped. Willow, afflicted with Oz-brood, cast a wonky spell that resulted in Giles going blind, Xander being chased by demons of all shapes and sizes, herself being summoned to a demon dimension and offered a job as a vengeance demon, and Buffy and Spike's engagement. Buffy wasn't sure she'd ever get over the last one. In this time, Buffy didn't mention Angel's newly human status to anyone.
Though they both spent a lot of time staring at it, neither of them picked up the phone and called the other.
Morons.
---
After spending two hours eating yet more ice cream in a bid to try and repress the fact that she'd (repress) been engaged to Spike as well as (double repress) kissed him, Buffy realised that it just wasn't happening. Repression was not taking place, only vivid, awful, playback, and Buffy knew that there was no way that she was ever forgetting that particular day of horror bar some sort of forgetting spell. Buffy also knew that no amount of cookies in the world would help Willow if she screwed that sort of spell up so resolved to, if not forget, move on. She was going to lock the memories up in the bad place where the outfits she'd worn in her sophomore year resided, have zero contact with Spike, be positive and go to class, which is what she was doing when she, concentrating very hard on the forgetting part of the previous day's experience, ran into Riley Finn. Literally.
With horror, as she'd remembered just what she'd said to him the previous night, she uttered, 'Oh bugger,' and then, with even more horror, realised Spike had rubbed off on her. However, she refrained from saying bugger again and merely said, 'Hi.'
'Uh, hi,' Riley said awkwardly, really looking like he'd rather be anywhere else in the world instead of that particular hallway.
Buffy swallowed. 'Don't leave,' she said quickly. Riley looked at her, completely nonplussed but not showing signs of imminent departure. Buffy breathed a sigh of relief. 'About last night,' she started. 'I think you might have misunderstood some stuff and -'
She was silenced by Riley holding up a hand. 'Don't. I think it was pretty clear,' he said flatly. 'You're engaged. I respect that.' He was looking severely uncomfortable with the conversation and Buffy cringed. Damn Spike. Damn Willow. Damn Angel.
'No!' she protested. 'That's not it. The misunderstanding, I mean. I'm not engaged.'
Riley looked at her quizzically.
Buffy took it as a sign and rambled on. 'See, my friend Xander, um …' think Buffy, think!. "We were playing Truth or Dare,' she blurted out, the lie coming easily. She only hoped that he would buy it. 'And, um, my good buddy Xander dared me to, uh, tell the first person I saw that I was engaged to this guy named Spike, which I did, because, wow, I told you and now I'm telling you that I'm not engaged and God, could I babble any longer?' She grinned nervously and prayed very hard that he'd buy it. She thought it was a pretty good lie, personally. If a person knew Xander, very believable, despite the fact that she was pretty sure most people grew out of Truth or Dare by junior high.
However, Riley seemed to be the believing type. 'So you're saying that everything you said last night – none of it was true?' Riley asked, daring to look a little hopeful.
The nervous grin faded as Buffy cast her mind over the exact specifics of what she'd told Riley the night before. While technically, none of it applied now thank God, the issue of Angel was suddenly completely inevitable, even if she wasn't entirely sure what the issue of Angel entailed. She didn't want to hurt Riley, but it was time to let him down gently and to let him move on.
The nervous grin re-appeared. 'Technically, no,' she said carefully. 'But, uh …' This was it. The moment of truth. What did that mean, anyway? 'I am seeing someone,' she told him gently, even though she wasn't entirely sure that the 'You call me, I'll call you,' thing she had going on with Angel really counted as seeing him. It had potential, though, and in Buffy's book, that was enough to let down all other prospective boyfriends gently.
Besides, duh, Angel: love of her life.
Riley's face fell. Buffy felt horrible, even though she logically knew that she shouldn't. Not really. It wasn't as if they'd gone on any dates or anything. There had just been … potential. And a lot of talking. Still, she felt guilty. 'I'm sorry,' she said pointlessly, knowing that it was pointless as she said it. Then there was one of those long uncomfortable silences in which both of them fidgeted and wondered what exactly to do next.
'How long have you been seeing him?' Riley asked unexpectedly, breaking the silence.
'Huh?' Buffy replied, then realised what he'd asked. 'Oh. Um, it's a fairly recent development,' she explained in a small voice. 'Thanksgiving recent, actually.'
Riley took this in. 'Oh,' he said, sounding very subdued. 'Right.'
'Riley, I'm so sorry,' Buffy apologised again, feeling like the world's most horrible person.
'Don't be,' he replied, albeit slightly flat. 'I'll see you in class.' He turned and left.
Buffy watched him go, realising that once again, her love life was wreaking havoc upon people who really didn't deserve havoc wreaked upon them. She wanted to kick herself. And she wanted to kick Angel for not calling. And also herself again, for not having the guts to call Angel when it became inherently obvious that he wasn't calling her. Instead, she was going to go to class, do a patrol and pick up some more cookie dough fudge mint chip for herself and Willow with the intent of sorrow drowning without the foamy beer. And they were going to watch Steel Magnolias and cry. Or maybe they could Thelma-and-Louise it, just to clarify that all men were pointless and stupid. Because they were.
---
'I can't stand this,' Cordelia groused as she and Doyle watched Angel make a move to pick up the phone for the fifty billionth time that week, in that way that implied that it was all Doyle's fault.
'Hey, I'm not exactly enjoyin' it either, princess,' he replied in defence, not taking his eyes off Angel. His pacing held an almost morbid fascination as Doyle wondered how many times he could actually walk across the office whilst staring hauntedly at the phone. In the first few days, he and Cordelia had had a bet going as to how long it would take for one of them to call the other, but as both their projected deadlines had passed them by (Cordelia, two hours, Doyle, a night) all they did in the time between job-hunting was merely watch what Doyle had dubbed The Situation. The Situation had degenerated into a routine where Angel would brood at his desk whilst pretending to work, then move onto pacing whilst staring surreptitiously at the phone. After that, if he'd been left alone for long enough, he'd give up all pretence and sit back at his desk and pick up the phone a number of times before immediately hanging it back up. However, it was worse when Angel actually left the office of his own accord, because it usually meant he was going for more ice cream. And ice cream, the ultimate comfort food of ex-vampires and smitten slayers alike, was bad.
'It's been two weeks,' Cordelia griped, glaring in the direction of Angel, 'and while I don't even like Buffy, I wish they'd just get over themselves for a minute and think about how this is affecting the people around them!'
'By 'people' you mean you, right?' Doyle asked, for clarification.
Cordelia had the grace to look slightly abashed. 'Well, no, not just me, but yeah, this is affecting me!' she told him emphatically, and then added, as an afterthought, 'and, of course you. But mainly me.' She turned back to the topic at hand. 'Doyle, I am spending all my time making sure that he's okay. I don't think I can handle it for much longer. I can't sleep! I'm going to get wrinkles!' Her voice tried desperately to imbue some sort of meaning about the horror that would bring. 'Something has to be done.'
Doyle considered what she'd said. 'Princess, I don' think we have the right to intervene. This isn't anything to do with us,' he told her carefully. 'It's Buffy and Angel's problem, no matter how thick they're bein'. We're the innocent bystanders here.' He shrugged. 'I'm sure they'll get it figured out sooner or later.'
Cordelia snorted. 'What? Get it all figured out like regular, normal people?' she asked sarcastically. 'No, that would be too easy. It's all about the pain people, all about the pain.' She made a face and flopped even down the couch. 'Remember what I said? Pain and suffering, business as usual. They don't know how to do anything else, and you know what? I'm sick of it.'
'Sick of what?' Angel asked as he exited his office.
'You and Buffy being morons,' Cordelia said bluntly, as Doyle just kind of grinned apologetically. 'Where are you going? And if you say that you're going to get ice cream, I'm going to rip out your tongue.'
Angel glowered. 'I'm going for a walk. Not that it's any of your business.' He stalked out the door, clearly not happy.
'That was nice and blunt,' Doyle commented.
'Tact is just not saying the true stuff,' Cordelia retorted. Then she frowned. 'Not like my charming lack of tact worked anyway. He's still getting ice cream.' She sighed. 'He's gonna get fat, I can just see it.'
'That's a disturbin' image to have,' Doyle agreed, and they both spent a moment imagining Angel fat. It was not a good moment. 'Besides, he said he was going for a walk. No ice cream was mentioned.'
Cordelia picked at a piece of thread coming loose on the hem of her skirt. 'This is stupid. I'm going home and having a long hot bubble bath.' She got up off the couch and grabbed her bag from her desk.
'All right then,' Doyle agreed. 'You coming in tomorrow?'
'Ha! You kidding? Tomorrow's Saturday,' Cordelia said in her 'duh' voice. 'And that translates to all people who don't know that's a smokescreen as: Duh. Where else would I be? I mean, it's not like I have a life outside this annoying ex-vampire person I used to work for,' she replied sarcastically.
'You know, they say that too much sarcasm clogs up the pores,' Doyle deadpanned.
'Ha ha,' Cordelia said sourly. 'I'm going.'
'G'night, princess,' Doyle replied, making himself comfortable on the couch as he picked up a newspaper.
'Any progress, call me,' Cordelia instructed. 'Oh, and tell me if you find anything remotely workable in the job-hunting area, okay?'
'Uh huh,' Doyle said absently, already lost in the comic section.
Cordelia harrumphed. 'You're all the same,' she said disgustedly, and stormed out. Doyle watched her go and wondered yet again how the heck he'd fallen for a girl like her. Then he got back to Calvin and Hobbes. He was only human after all. Well, half-human.
---
Next morning, Cordelia stormed into Angel Investigations with a mission: to make Angel call Buffy. Barely noting that Doyle hadn't arrived yet, she swept into Angel's office and declared, 'This has gone on too long. You are going to call Buffy and you're going to do it today, do you hear me?'
Angel just looked at her, looking completely nonplussed. 'Cordelia, this isn't really any of your business,' he said shortly.
Cordelia arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow. 'Oh really?' she asked sweetly. 'I beg to differ, ice cream boy!'
Angel looked confused. 'Ice cream boy?'
Cordelia looked at him like he was a mentally deficient three-year-old. 'You? And the ice cream? All the time? Any of this ringing a bell?' she asked. Angel looked at her passively, staying stubbornly silent. Cordelia mentally kicked him for being stubborn, but in reality sighed. 'Angel,' she said, feeling very exasperated, 'this has to stop. You have to call her before she gets the idea in her head that you don't love her and moves onto some college beefcake. And then where will we be, huh?' she demanded.
"I'm on the brink of something back home."
Angel suddenly felt panicked, which, Cordelia noted, was the most emotion other than broodiness he'd shown for days, as he remembered both Buffy's words and the guy he'd seen her with at Thanksgiving. What if Buffy had decided that she liked the brink better than him? It was a stupid doubt, and Angel knew that, as well as knowing that Buffy was in all probability still in love with him, but it was the kind of doubt that had the ability to eat away at him and he couldn't handle that.
'Fine,' he grumbled, mainly for Cordelia's benefit. 'I'll call her.'
Cordelia perched on the desk and helpfully picked up the phone and held it out for him. 'I'd dial, but I don't know the number,' she told him, rather unnecessarily, Angel thought as he took the phone and dialled the number.
It was ringing. Angel briefly wondered if Buffy would be awake so early on a Saturday morning, and felt a surge of joy when the phone was picked up. He waited for her voice (or Willow's) and was severely disappointed. There was only breathing on the other end of the line.
'Hello?' he said, feeling very confused.
---
'Hello?' came the confused voice out of the telephone.
Buffy felt like screaming. Of all the times Angel could have chosen to call, he chose the day she couldn't talk? How freaking typical.
'Buffy?' Angel tried again. 'Are you there? Uh, sorry it took so long to call … '
Too right, Buffy grumbled to herself, conveniently forgetting the fact that she could have called him at any time.
'Buffy, please talk to me. Are you mad? Don't be mad. I'm sorry for making you mad,' Angel apologised in an almost-babble like way.
Buffy groaned, though rather ineffectually, as she didn't seem to be able to make any sounds at all this morning, and realised that it wasn't going to work. There could be no phone conversation if the Sunnydale end couldn't talk. She made a decision and very reluctantly hung up the phone, hoping Angel wouldn't get the wrong idea.
Then she kicked the chest of drawers. It splintered. Willow gave her an odd look.
---
Beep beep beep.
'Buffy?' Angel tried finally, but knowing it was pointless; he may have been slightly technologically challenged, but even he knew when a person had hung up on you.
He hung up the phone in a daze. 'She hung up on me,' he said, looking shocked. 'She really hung up on me,' he repeated unnecessarily. 'Oh God,' he said, with the tone of someone who thinks they've made the biggest mistake of their life. 'She hates me,' he told Cordelia, as realisation seemed to dawn upon him. 'I didn't call and now she hates me. She's fallen in love with that guy outside the Espresso Pump and they're probably going on a picnic right now and -'
'Oh, God!' Cordelia interrupted. 'Stop it! Buffy does not hate you! She's probably sitting in her dorm room just as miserable as you are eating ice cream with Willow and listening to Sarah McLachlan and brooding because you're both stupid!'
Angel took this in. 'You think?'
Cordelia rolled her eyes. 'Please. I don't think. I know.'
(And you know, if all of Sunnydale hadn't had their voices stolen by the freaky-looking Gentlemen and Buffy hadn't been present at Giles's artistic and rather hilarious overhead presentation about said freaky-looking Gentlemen, she would have. Known, that is.)
Angel looked like he was going to say something to that, but just then Doyle let his presence be known from the door of the office. 'Mornin'. I've just heard somethin' you might be interested in.'
Ooh! Mystery!
---
And so, both the Scooby and LA contingents knew that Sunnydale couldn't speak. At that point in time, the LA contingent didn't know why no one in Sunnydale could speak (but thanks to Giles's artistic and rather hilarious overhead presentation, the Scoobies did), and Cordelia and Doyle had forbidden Angel from going to find out, something he was not happy about at all. It made sense of course. He wasn't a superhero anymore, and he wouldn't be helping at all once he got into Sunnydale; he'd probably lose his voice as well. Besides, it wasn't like Buffy couldn't look after herself. Angel glowered when Cordelia and Doyle pointed out these very logical reasons, but he did have to admit that they were right.
Of course, he didn't admit this out loud. He just glowered.
Over in Sunnydale, Buffy was pissed off. She punched one of the pink things in the straitjackets. Thwack. She couldn't believe that of all the days he could have picked, Angel had rung her yesterday morning. Crack. When she couldn't speak. Crunch. Or give any indication at all that she was completely tired of all this mature bullshit. Smack. Even if she wasn't being incredibly mature herself about this.
Maybe this was some kind of feministic karma, punishing her for being such a girl and waiting for Angel to call her. She spun round and knocked one of the pink things flying with a well-practiced kick. Thunk.
Maybe not the feminist thing.
She sighed. Even beating the crap out of the pink things in the straitjackets wasn't helping, because it just wasn't the same without a little pun. She cursed Angel. He was even ruining her fun violence. And then she forgot about Angel for a second, because she turned around and came face to face with Riley Finn. In army gear. With a big gun.
She stared at him in confusion for a second. Then she got back to kicking ass, Riley right behind her.
Oh boy, she needed her voice back.
---
Doyle rang at six the next morning. Angel wasn't sure exactly what Doyle was doing up so early, but strongly suspected he hadn't yet gone to bed. Angel himself was quite annoyed at being woken up at six o'clock by the telephone when his mortal body needed considerably more downtime than his vampiric one, but once Doyle informed him, slightly drunkenly, that the quarantine upon Sunnydale had been lifted and they'd all gotten their voices back, he was out of bed faster than you can say 'ohmygodtheirloveissocanon.'
To avoid possible phone hang-upage and also because he, like Buffy, was sick of the 'let's be mature' bullshit, he decided to drive to Sunnydale so he could talk to Buffy in person. Among other things. He would have left LA by six-thirty, except, um, he was hungry, and then Cordelia swanned in triumphantly waving the newspaper around because 'Angel! I have a job interview!' and then he realised that his car had no gas and had to stop and get it filled.
So by the time he left, it was seven-fifteen and by the time he got to Sunnydale, it was nine-thirty-eight and he was outside her dorm room by nine-forty-five. Just standing. And eavesdropping, because there was someone decidedly male in Buffy's room, and well, Angel was feeling decidedly jealous. He half-considered kicking the door in, but then remembered that he couldn't do that anymore and would most likely break his toe if he attempted to, and so elected to politely knock. And pray to God that the guy (who he strongly suspected was the college beefcake from the Espresso Pump) was in Buffy's room for a completely non-relationship/sex related reason.
Buffy opened the door in jeans, a cute pink sweater and a bemused expression. 'Angel?' she said, in that half-question way she always did, a smile creeping onto her face.
'Buffy,' he replied, like he always did, a smile creeping onto his face.
Of course, that was when the earthquake hit.
Angel grabbed Buffy and braced them both against the doorframe. He grinned, because earthquake and all, he was holding Buffy again, and it just felt so right. Like he'd never let go in the first place. And because he'd never have to again.
The tremors subsided, and she led Angel wordlessly into the room. The beefcake, who'd been standing in the doorway of what was presumably Buffy's closet, joined them in the middle of the room. 'Wow,' he joked. 'That was some ride.'
Buffy looked at him oddly. He shrugged sheepishly. 'Sorry I'm so excited. This is my first earthquake.'
She frowned. 'It's not mine.'
Something in her tone struck Angel. 'Buffy?' he said, questioningly.
She looked back at him, and they had one of those looks, the ones that only they could have, the ones that conveyed a million little things in just one brief second. 'It's nothing,' she said, but her eyes told him otherwise. Before he could make anything out of it, she gestured to the beefcake.
'Riley, this is Angel,' she said. 'Angel, Riley.'
Riley stepped forward and shook Angel's hand. 'Hi,' he said. 'Nice to meet you.'
Angel shook his hand back. 'Likewise,' he said, though he wasn't sure if he meant it.
Buffy, who hadn't realised she'd been holding her breath until she let it out, looked apologetic as she turned to Riley. 'Riley, I'm sorry to cut our conversation short, but I gotta … you know. Duty calls.'
Riley nodded. 'Do you want to talk about this some other time?'
'I think we've pretty much covered everything, don't you think?' she replied, ignoring Angel's 'what the hell is going on here?' look. 'I'll keep your secret, you'll keep mine … I think we're good.'
Riley nodded again. 'Okay.' He gestured towards the door and started towards it. 'I'll just go then. Uh,' he said a little hesitantly as he left reached the doorway, 'see you round?'
'Yeah,' Buffy replied, smiling a little.
'Right,' Riley said, and then he closed the door, leaving Buffy and Angel alone in the room.
She looked at him with questioning and hopeful eyes. He grinned. 'Hi.'
'Hi,' she parroted. 'I'm sorry about the phone call,' she blurted out. 'I couldn't talk. Literally.'
'I know,' he reassured her. 'What sort of demon was it?'
Buffy gave him a shrewd look. 'Do you care?' she asked frankly. 'And for that matter, what took so long to call? Were all the phones broken in LA?'
'Were all the phones broken in Sunnydale?' Angel retorted.
Buffy gave a small grin at that. 'Touché,' she said wryly. 'We've been dumb.'
'Yes, we have been,' Angel replied.
'I'm sorry,' she said.
Angel sighed. 'I'm sorry too. The mature plan thing was stupid. I'm over it.'
'Really?' Buffy said, starting to smile. 'What a coincidence, cos, well, me too. I'm totally ready for the wedging.'
'What?' he asked, slightly confused.
'Of you,' Buffy clarified. 'Back into my life.'
'Oh,' Angel replied, remembering what he'd said about not being able to just wedge himself back into her life. 'Right. Yeah …'
And then he couldn't exactly remember what he was going to say next, because she took his hands in hers and all he could think about was how kissable her glossed lips were and how much he wanted to kiss them.
'Good,' Buffy said, and she was breathless too.
And so he did.
Kissing Buffy wasn't like kissing anyone else he'd ever kissed. He drowned himself in her kisses, revelled in the taste of her strawberry lip-gloss, and now, after he'd gone without kissing her for so long, he had this undeniable feeling of feeling that something in the world was finally right. If he'd had to leave her, he was so glad he could come back. He wished he hadn't taken so long to do it, though.
'Angel,' Buffy said breathlessly as he moved his mouth from her lips and down towards her neck, 'we have to go to Giles'.'
'Huh?' Angel replied, voice muffled and vague, his tongue driving her to distraction.
'Earthquake,' she managed to bite out, just as his hand snuck underneath her sweater. 'We need to uh, talk to him … oh god.'
He looked up at her mischievously. 'Later.'
She was very tempted. But, as she'd said to Riley earlier, duty calls.
'No,' Buffy said firmly, her face flushed pink, and carefully extricated his hand from her bra and stepped away from him. 'We have to go now. Apocalypse.'
'Since when is there an apocalypse?' Angel asked, looking bemused at having to shift his attention from Buffy's neck.
Buffy looked at him like he was mentally retarded. He reflected that since he'd employed Cordelia, he'd gotten used to that look. 'Earthquake?' she said. 'Ring a bell?'
'Buffy,' he said placatingly, and really wanting to go back to making out, 'there are earthquakes in California all the time.'
'Angel, do you remember what happened last time there was an earthquake in Sunnydale?' she said, almost harshly.
Angel looked at her steadily. 'It's not the sort of thing you forget,' he said quietly.
She had the grace to look embarrassed. 'I know. I'm sorry. Can we just talk to Giles? Please? I'll feel better.' Her green eyes pleaded with him.
He had never been able to resist her eyes.
---
As it turned out, Buffy proved once again that a Slayer's instincts should never be ignored, despite Giles and Angel poo-pooing the idea that the latest earthquake was demon related, with the discovery of a demonic cult trying to, what else, open up the Hellmouth. The demonic cult was discovered, Giles got knocked out (again), Spike nearly staked himself but (unfortunately, Angel thought) fell off the chair when Willow and Xander interrupted him, the demonic cult was dispatched and, in the words of Xander, Spike 'got his mojo back', thus bringing everything in Sunnydale back to its tenuous reality.
Well almost.
There was still that little matter of Angel's newfound humanity, which was what Xander, Willow, Buffy, Angel and Spike were discussing in Xander's basement later that night.
'So you're human.' Xander had the air of someone whose world has just gone cockeye. 'No more Deadboy.'
'That's right,' Buffy said happily, very comfortably ensconced in Angel's lap. 'No more Deadboy.'
'Huh,' Xander said, not looking entirely happy with the idea. Willow, on the other hand, looked positively bubbly.
'Well, I think it's great,' she enthused. 'I mean, you can eat food now, like cookies and ice cream and you can go outside during the daytime, and ooh! Angel, do you tan? You can get a tan!'
'Thanks Willow,' Angel said, shooting a glare in Xander's direction.
'I think it's a right bloody shame,' Spike sniffed from the red chair he'd claimed as his own during his brief stay in Xander's humble abode. 'It's one thing to have a nancy boy souled vamp as your grandsire, but a human? I'm going to be a bloody laughingstock, I am.'
'Hey, Xander, you got a bathtub round here?' Buffy said pointedly. 'And Spike? You are a laughingstock.'
'You just wait, Slayer, when I get this bloody chip out, you'll get yours,' Spike said darkly.
Buffy raised her eyebrows. 'Like to see you try, William,' she retorted.
'Can I stake him?' Angel said in a low voice into her ear.
Buffy laughed. 'Nah. He's all helpless and stuff. It'd be like killing a defenceless animal.'
'Hey, you guys want to watch a movie?' Xander asked. 'I'll make popcorn.'
Buffy and Angel looked at each other. 'In that case,' Angel said, 'we'll leave.'
'Yeah,' Buffy said quickly, jumping out of his lap. She faked a yawn. 'Really tired.'
'Yeah,' Angel echoed as he stood up. 'Um …'
'Bye,' Buffy said hurriedly, taking Angel by the arm and leading him quickly out of the door.
'Yeah right. Like sleeping's going to be high on those two's agenda,' Xander said darkly as soon as he thought they were out of earshot.
'Shut up Xander,' Willow said pleasantly.
'I didn't think we'd ever get out of there,' Angel murmured as Buffy busied herself unbuttoning his shirt.
'Uh huh,' she said breathlessly, frantically kissing along the side of his jaw and then down his neck.
Angel suddenly took stock of their situation. 'Uh, Buffy?' he said hesitantly, not really wanting to stop what they were doing.
'Shut up, sweetie,' she muttered, and then attacked his mouth with the same vigour she'd used unbuttoning his shirt. He was tempted to play along, but well, a vague idea of public decency prevented him from doing so.
'Buffy,' he repeated, pulling away from her. 'Would you look where we are?'
Frowning, she did, and took in their location: a tree on the sidewalk just in front of Xander's house. Not really ideal.
She smiled sheepishly. 'Right. Good point. Okay. To the car.'
'Right,' Angel repeated. 'So we go to your dorm room?'
'No,' Buffy replied, still breathless with her close proximity to Angel, 'Willow still needs a place to crash. My mom's house. She's out of town. Much better.'
'Right,' Angel said again.
And then, the hopeless victims of sweet unbridled hormones and lust that they were, they rushed off to the car without any delay. Ain't love grand?
---
Afterwards, Angel couldn't believe they'd actually made it to the bed.
'Look what I found,' Buffy said, reappearing in the doorway after a trip downstairs for food. She was wearing his shirt, and carrying two spoons as well as a carton of ice cream. 'The fridge was kinda bare. I don't think Mom's been home much lately.'
'Ice cream's great,' Angel replied eagerly as Buffy slid back into the bed beside him. 'I love ice cream.'
Buffy smiled. 'I love that you love ice cream,' she said, directing a spoon of said ice cream into Angel's mouth.
He closed his eyes. 'Mmm. Cookie dough mint fudge chip.'
'You've really gotten into this food thing, haven't you?' she said, just before he directed a spoonful into her mouth.
He grinned, feeling positively goofy. 'I love food.'
Buffy laughed. 'Food is good.' She laid her hand upon his chest, feeling his heartbeat. 'This is perfect.'
'The ice cream?' Angel teased.
She swatted his chest lightly. 'No, you big pig. This. Being here with you. God, it's like a dream come true.' She looked up at him. 'I'm so happy right now, Angel.'
If he'd still been a vampire, Angelus would have come out to play hours ago, but still, he didn't think he could express how happy he was adequately in words.
So he didn't. Instead, abandoning his ice cream, he leant forward and gently brought Buffy's face towards his. The lip-gloss was long gone, but she tasted of cookie dough mint fudge chip and then something that he couldn't define, but was just uniquely Buffy. He'd missed that.
When they broke apart they both smiled.
'I love you Angel,' Buffy said, circling his cheekbone with her thumb, smiling so hard she thought it was quite within the realm of possibility for her face to break.
He reached up and took hold of her hand. 'I love you too Buffy.' Then he picked up the abandoned carton. 'Ice cream?' he asked, brandishing his spoon.
Buffy grinned. 'Yes please.'
---
Your love is better than ice cream
Better than anything else that I've tried
Your love is better than ice cream
Everyone here knows how to fight-- end
Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me. Buffy, Angel and all other related characters belong to Joss, who may not have been altogether nice to them, but still claims them as his own. The song lyric at the end belongs to Sarah McLachlan and are from her song Ice Cream.I thought it was fitting.