Live with the Bottle, Live with Yourself
Oz/Buffy the Vampire Slayer crossover
Hard R, Buffy/Toby, 2,055 Words
Afterwards, while he slept, she leaned her head against his back and cried.
He was older than her – much older. It was different than the age between Angel, Spike and herself, because he was human. And it was just different.
However, she felt connected to him. He had the darkness of Spike and the guilt of Angel, and if she thought about it, he even had the strength of Riley. She was confused by him but he was also her other half, as strange as that sounded. He was human, and more than that, he was the first human she had ever really connected with, both physically and emotionally.
She had met him during a dark time in her life, when seeing the light again had become a dream, a dream she doubted she would ever meet. Turning the Potentials into Slayers, it was a perfect idea, a perfect dream but perfect did not translate well into reality and how could she ever, ever forget what becoming the slayer had meant to her? She still remembered, fourteen years later, staring into that mirror, with her parent's arguing downstairs thinking why her? What had she ever done that been horrible enough to warrant this?
It took a while to understand that killing could be separated into categories. A while to accept that killing was not just killing, there were layers and reasons and vampires.
She never knew what it was like until she met the new slayers. Granted, some of them thought it was a dream but for most, a nightmare with Buffy being the one keeping them in it. She would have hated herself, too, if she were one of them, and it had been so easy for Buffy to turn to the bottle, to drink away her sorrows.
Was it wrong if, just once, she did things the easy way?
Apparently so.
She didn't realize she had a problem until she hurt Dawn – she hurt Dawn. Dawnie. Dawn whom she had died for, and then lived for. To willingly hurt Dawn? That was unacceptable. So she had gone to Giles for help. Ultimately he was the only one that would see past what she had become and know how to help her. He had sent her to New York; he had some friends there that would be willing to help.
They helped her by starving her, and not of food, but the bottle, the alcohol. They sent her to a meeting, and that's where she met him, Tobias Beecher.
They sat next to each other, talked between breaks. Twelve meetings in they had decided to go for coffee after. The first time they just sat there. The second time was for small talk, and the third? The third brought them together.
"Have you ever loved anyone?" she asked.
"I was married," he told her.
"Oh. Does that equal love?"
"In my case? No."
"Oh." She sipped at her drink to fast, felt the burn in her throat. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," he said, watching her eyes. "I've met my soul mate already."
That surprised her. "Really? I didn't realize-"
"He died," Toby said, interrupting her.
That surprised her more. "You're -? Not that I mind."
"I'm easy," he said, grinning. It was raw and harsh and it attracted her.
She didn't even breathe before saying, "I am too."
Tob took her home that night, to a nice apartment – big and rich. They fucked on his bed, hard and fast and afterwards she laid back with her body pressed against his and followed his eye line to the picture on the mantel.
It was a mug shot of a man with a killer grin who's eyes glowed. She wanted to kill him. Then she realized he was already dead.
It became a ritual. Meeting, coffee, fucking.
Each meeting they would be opened raw. Then they would drink coffee and tell secrets, hoping to fill each other's gaps.
"I've had two soul mates," she said.
"You can't," he had remarked. "Choose one."
"How can I?"
"Who makes you feel?"
"Right now? You."
"I'm not your soul mate."
"No," she said thoughtfully, "you're not."
That night they fucked against the mantel, Toby looking at the picture on the wall and she looking at his chest, where his heart should be.
"I was in prison," he told her.
"I'm not scared of you."
"That doesn't surprise me. You're not scared of anything."
"I'm scared of a few things; I wouldn't go to the meetings if I wasn't."
"The meetings are means to an end. They don't stop the drinking, I do."
"I need them. They make me feel human."
"You are human."
"Not as much as I'd like to be."
She cried into his shoulder when they had sex that night.
"What was his name?"
"Who?"
"You know who."
"Chris. Chris was his name."
"Chris."
"Don't. You don't get to talk about him."
That night he fucked her until she bled.
"You can't come over tonight," he said, grinning at her.
"What, why?" she always came to his apartment after. It was what they did.
"My children are over."
"Your children?"
"Yes. I was married Buffy, I had children. And I lost them for a bit but I think I'm getting them back."
"Oh, that's good." But she had an itch.
"It's okay," he told her, covering her hands with his, "We can have a quickie in the bathroom."
And they did and she had never felt so dirty. She needed things to change.
She went to a different meeting, didn't talk to anyone, and missed him.
Then she went to his apartment one day, three weeks after she had left, and knocked on the door.
A girl answered.
"Hello," Buffy said, "Could I please speak to Toby?"
The girl – a teenager – raised an eyebrow, turned around and shouted: "Dad!"
And Buffy thought Dawnie, oh Dawnie.
Then Toby came to the door. "Buffy," he said, surprised and confused.
"Hi, could we talk?"
He didn't invite her in. Instead, he came into the hallway, shutting the door on the teenager's inquiring gaze.
"Yes?"
"I need you."
He laughed. "You don't. Trust me."
"I have a sister, Dawnie, she just a bit older than your daughter and I miss her and I miss home."
His hand wiped across his face. "Go home then."
"Home's gone."
"Home is wherever Dawnie is." He told her. "I can't love you like you need, I gave Chris everything and I barely have enough left for my children, but what I have they get. Can you understand that? They get the rest of me that's human."
"Then," she said, pushing him against the wall and not letting him move, "I want the parts of you that aren't human. It will still be more human than I'm used to."
"I'm meant to fuck you now?" He asked.
"Yes."
"Against the wall with my children in the next room?"
"Yes." Gentler. "Please."
"I would for Chris, but for you? No. No Buffy, I'm sorry." He sighed. "You're better than that."
She went back to their meetings and they went to coffee afterwards.
"I have an apartment," she told him.
He took one gulp of his drink and stood up. He grabbed her hand, "Let's go. I need you."
"Yes please." she said.
They were lying in bed when he suddenly demanded, "Fuck me."
"At least ask nicely," she said, turning to him and sliding her hand down under the covers, grabbing his cock.
"And needy." he said, wiggling a bit.
She giggled, "Would you beg?"
"Fuck yes," he said when her nails dug in a little bit.
"How?"
"It's not that difficult," he said, and pointed to his drawers.
She reached over and opened the top one. "I wear this and fuck you?" She pulled it out of the drawer. "Fuck you hard?"
"Yes," he hissed, taking her hand off his dick, he twisted around.
Buffy slid her hand through his hair, getting in a little tangle before getting free and continuing down his back. Her hand followed the curve of his left cheek. "I've never-" she said, stopping before finishing.
"Don't worry, don't think. Just do."
And she did, and just before he came he shouted Chris.
Afterwards, while he slept, she leaned her head against his back and cried.
"Buffy? Buffy is that really you?"
"Dawnie. You sound great. Really great."
"Buffy why has it taken you so long to call? Giles won't even tell me where you are – when are you coming home?"
"I – Dawn, not now honey. Not for a while."
"But, I miss you."
"God Dawn I miss you too. So much, so much you wouldn't understand."
"I just don't – You're okay right, Buffy? You're okay."
"I'm so sorry I hurt you."
"I forgive you, I'll always forgive you."
Buffy hung up crying. Huge gasping sobs.
"I am sorry."
"What?" she asked, they were sitting at her kitchen drinking coffee and playing footies.
"I'm sorry that I can't love you like you want me too, like you deserve."
He sounded honestly upset.
"I don't -," she clutched at her hair and tugged it a little, enough for the pull to be uncomfortable. "We both need something from each other. You give me what I need."
"It just seems that relationships normally have something more than that."
"This is a relationship?"
He looked at her, surprised, "I thought so."
She grinned into her coffee and then after a few moments looked him in the eye, blushed, and grinned.
His foot rubbed against hers.
"Holly, Harry this is Buffy."
"Buffy?" Holly repeated, her tone incredulous.
"Yeah." Buffy agreed, "Can you believe I never got teased about my name?"
"Um no," Holly said, grinning, "I really can't."
"Is it short for anything?" Harry asked.
"Elizabeth."
Harry nodded, "Buffy's cooler."
Toby ruffled Harry's hair and grinned at her.
"Look Dawn, I won't be coming back."
"But come on Buffy! You're better now and you can come home." Dawn sounded like she was beginning to cry.
"Don't Dawn, you're an adult now. You don't need me."
"I'll always need you."
"Maybe. But you don't need me next to you. I don't need to walk with you."
"You do."
"I'll never be completely better."
"Ok then, fine. Come back and I'll help you."
"You don't understand Dawn." Buffy sighed, "I'm needed here now."
"Buffy-?" Holly asked, walking into the room. "Sorry."
Buffy held up her hand, "Hold on Dawnie," she covered the mouthpiece with her hand, "Everything okay Holly?"
"I can't find your pink top and you said I could wear it, remember?" Holly tapped her foot and crossed her arms.
"It should be in the closet Holls. Or maybe your dad put it in a drawer?"
"Honestly!" Holly said, sounding exasperated and throwing up her hands. She left in the direction of Toby and Buffy's bedroom.
Buffy grinned and shook her head, "You still there Dawn?"
"Yeah." Dawn sounded sullen. "Who was that?"
"I – Someone I'm looking after now."
"But what about me?"
"Not everything is about you." Buffy told her.
During Harry's dance recital Buffy went outside for some air.
What she found was a vampire.
She watched for a few seconds before stopping it from killing the girl who had been fighting it.
She left the young girl gasping on the ground, instead picking up her stake that she had lost during the attack.
"Be more careful." Buffy said, giving the stake back, "You're not immortal."
The girl looked at her stake. She spoke when Buffy was walking away, "I know. But, my death doesn't mean anything. You know what I mean?"
Buffy sighed, "Then make it mean something."
"How can one in thousands stand out?"
Buffy saw Toby through the glass doors of the hall gesturing for her to come back in. "I'm sorry, but that's up to you to figure out."
"If I asked you to take it down, would you?" Buffy asked Toby, staring at Chris.
Toby shook his head. "No. I love you but, no."
"Would you be with me if he was still alive?"
"No." Toby stared at Chris too. "Is that okay?"
"I guess." Buffy frowned. "It has to be."
"I love you as much as I can." Toby reminded her.
"Yes," she nodded. "Thank you for that."