Spoilers: The Season 3 Episode: "The Wish". If you've seen that episode,
you're up to speed. If not, you won't know what's going on :-(.
Her Wish
by
Ashley Shipley
angel_spike2003@yahoo.com ***** He irritated her... that was the only thing she could come up with.
Buffy Summers tried to ignore the beaten, injured man - no, vampire - that crept along the street beside her... and failed. Again. She was irritated. Like when Willow found the disc with the curse that would restore Angels soul, but when Xander made the comment that they shouldn't restore his soul because of what he did, well at least what the demon inside him did . She paused to consider her mental list, realizing that she'd gone soft even in her silent disparaging of him. Somehow, what he'd said to her earlier had touched something - something deep inside her that hadn't been awake for a very long time. Snorting with amused disgust at the idea - ridiculous! - she continued striding away from the nightclub, down the vacant, lonely street, barely hearing his low directions as they rounded a corner. They were just passing into a residential area now, and despite the agony of timidness she'd seen so far from this town and its citizens, she still stiffened at the homey feeling the snug little houses exuded. That feeling of love and belonging that had been stolen from her viciously... as vicious as the sudden snap of a parent's neck. Shaking her head, hard, to dispell the haunting images that clung like a revolting film to her mind's eye, she almost didn't hear him beside her. "Buffy?" his voice was a whisper - soft and gentle... and concerned. It had been ages since anyone had been concerned about her - except for that Jeeves guy, who seemed kind of nice - and she almost mistrusted it until she turned and saw his expression. It was filled with the same yearning that had captivated her earlier, convincing her that although he was a demon in a human body, he had a soul. The longer she let herself drown in his deep brown eyes, the more she found herself believing. It wasn't just the scars on his chest - though only endless, repeated torture could have produced such deep marks on a vampire - she actually found herself buying his "you're my destiny" line. Destiny? What did she know about destiny? Well... she knew it was her destiny to die. Her Watcher reminded her of that delicate fact on a regular basis, which was only one of the many reasons she'd basically stopped reporting back to him altogether. She knew it was her destiny to be hurt. To fight and to still lose. To struggle endlessly, knowing that someday, some way, an evil creature was going to be just a little bit faster, a bit more clever... and it would be over for her. Finished. Nowhere in her destiny was there anything about a heartbreakingly beautiful man with soulful eyes who lived to protect and cherish her. "Buffy... are you okay?" She felt a shiver, not unpleasant, move up her spine at his words. Something about her name on his lips sounded like a caress. She'd never felt anything like it before. "Fine. I'm fine," she tried to say curtly, though it came out much milder than she'd planned. Forcing herself to look away from him, realizing that they were standing motionless on the sidewalk, she looked at the small businesses and houses they were near. "Nice," she commented. There, that came out sounding cynical, just as she'd intended. "It was, once," he replied. "Before." He didn't seem inclined to elaborate. Instead, he led her past a narrow alley, glancing down the truncated length of it to make certain it was deserted. "Wait." Buffy stopped him... and for a long moment she couldn't have explained why. Now it was his turn to glance back at her impatiently... though his eyes were too soft to wear the expression easily. She didn't answer his obvious, unspoken question - instead choosing to turn and venture down the alley. The walls were faded brick on either side, and even from here she could see that the alley was a dead end. 'Walking into a trap!' her senses - which sounded revoltingly like her Watcher's voice - screamed at her. She turned around to face the street, and saw the vampire watching her. Not just any vampire, though. She cocked her head at him as he drew nearer, his dark head turning from side to side, searching for whatever it was he'd missed that she'd seen. "What's your name?" He stopped looking around, his gaze snapping back to her, his dark eyes surprised. "Angel." "Pretty name," she blurted out before she could stop herself, regretting the words instantly. They were too soft, too weak. He could take advantage of such a simple thing. Hurt her. "You think so?" He seemed even more surprised... but pleased. "I..." at a loss for words, she avoided his interest, ducking her head to hide her eyes from him. Instead, she leaned up against one of the brick walls, feeling the faint scratching of the mortar through her rough shirt. "Shouldn't we..." he began, apparently wondering why they were taking a break. "In a minute," she snapped, cutting him off. He looked hurt for the span of about two heartbeats... then his eyelids dropped, shuttering his emotions. It made her feel... bad. She couldn't remember the last time she had hurt someone's feelings, as she knew she'd just done to him, and cared. Had she become so inhuman? "Sorry," she muttered, and it didn't make her feel any better, really. He shrugged a little, but wouldn't look at her. "So what are we waiting for?" She suddenly wondered if he were a dream... a fantasy of some kind. Just some clouded, gorgeous, kind, tender figment of her imagination. Or maybe she'd finally gone over the edge. Her Watcher was forever warning her to be on her guard against the insidious tendrils of mental instability. He said it would be "an inevitable response to all the death and destruction you mete out", whatever he meant by that. So... if she didn't die first, she could look forward to slowly, inevitably going out of her mind. Fun for all. She almost giggled at the thought, then bit it back, realizing it might sound odd to her possibly- imaginary companion. She ran her eyes over his tall, lean body as he stood there in the stark alley. No. Not imaginary. He certainly looked real enough. "Do you want me?" As soon as the words left her mouth, she wished them back. He looked stunned. His eyes were wide, his mouth hanging open just slightly. As she watched, he seemed to shiver completely from head to toe. It was interesting. Like a dog shaking water from its fur, almost. "I'm sorry... I thought you said..." he seemed to be attempting to smile wryly, but it was a sickly expression, full of confusion. She shook her head, pushing away from the wall. It had been a stupid thought anyway... they didn't have time for her foolishness now. "Nothing," she assured him, moving towards him, fully intending to walk past him out of the alley, away from the temptation of something so crazy... He stopped her. With his body. He moved to block her exit, and she cursed herself a fool for believing his pathetic little story back in the nightclub. This was it... this was the demon who was going to prove himself by killing the Slayer. She straightened her spine, drawing her body up to its full height - still nowhere near his - and raised her eyes to his face, preparing herself for a fight. He didn't look like he was ready to give her one. His eyes were full of longing and agonized confusion, his lips trembled as he gazed at her... there was an air of complete desperation about him now. "I waited... I... for you..." he whispered. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry I never made it," she said softly, surprising herself, a vein of tenderness in her voice she couldn't recall having ever heard before. He let out a quiet, harsh sound, his arms reaching for her... she denied years of training to avoid them and simply stood there, letting him hold her, crush her body to his. As they stood there, she allowed herself to feel something she'd almost forgotten. That someone cared for her. HE cared for her. She felt a sob building up in her chest, choking her with its intensity. Fighting it down, she burrowed closer to him. "I wish... I wish..." her voice was breaking, and she struggled for the control that had been ripped away by his obvious emotion. Then she wondered why she was bothering. Why fight it? Why fight herself? She took a deep breath against the strong bands of his arms against her sides, knowing what she wanted. She wanted to feel loved. Completely. *I wish you loved me. I wish we could be together. I wish I could grow old with you beside me*. No - all too needy... and long years of sustained terror and combat had left their dirty marks on her soul, not allowing her to express such weakness. But she needed him in this moment, more than anything. "I want... no... I wish... wish you would..." Unable to articulate her need, she raised her hands to his neck, pulling him roughly down to her level to kiss him fiercely. He gasped against her mouth, probably in surprise, but she didn't relinquish her hold on him. She was excited... thrilled by the blood rushing through her body... felt so alive. He gasped again... but didn't push her away. Their coupling was hurried, furtive. Neither could completely forget they were in an alley in what amounted to a war zone. He pushed her against the wall, his hands fumbling in his haste to touch her skin. Their mouths fused hotly, hers opening first to accept him. He whimpered against her lips. He lifted her body higher against his. "Want... want you... Angel..." she moaned deliriously, arching her neck to press her head against the rough brick. She could feel the sharp edges of cement particles digging lightly into her scalp, tiny hurts that were insignificant in the moment. Her hands roamed down his body, skirting the horrible wounds on his chest as he hissed in pain. Her fingers felt thick. She came back to herself quickly as faint screams of terror and pain filtered to her ears on the night breeze. He heard them too - pulling quickly from her. Staring fixedly at a pathetic, dangling button on his shirt, she wondered if this moment would be all they would ever have. She wished for more. Maybe after all this was taken care of - the Master a dusty memory - he would agree to come back to Cleveland with her. Or somewhere else... anywhere else... just as long as they were together. Jeeves was a Watcher, maybe he could... "We should go." His words were a faint wisp of sound in the alley, but they stopped her fantasies cold. He was standing a little away from her now, having finished adjusting their clothing for both of them. He still wasn't looking at her. She was frightened by the weakness she felt welling up in her, choking her. "A-angel?" she said softly, trying to catch his eyes. He finally looked at her... and he was crying. Shattered. "Angel! What...?" She wondered if she'd done the wrong thing - complicating an already confusing situation. But a small part of her soul - the part that had prodded her into breaking a wounded vampire's shackles instead of staking his heart - told her that they could never have been anything less than everything to each other.
Her Wish
by
Ashley Shipley
angel_spike2003@yahoo.com ***** He irritated her... that was the only thing she could come up with.
Buffy Summers tried to ignore the beaten, injured man - no, vampire - that crept along the street beside her... and failed. Again. She was irritated. Like when Willow found the disc with the curse that would restore Angels soul, but when Xander made the comment that they shouldn't restore his soul because of what he did, well at least what the demon inside him did . She paused to consider her mental list, realizing that she'd gone soft even in her silent disparaging of him. Somehow, what he'd said to her earlier had touched something - something deep inside her that hadn't been awake for a very long time. Snorting with amused disgust at the idea - ridiculous! - she continued striding away from the nightclub, down the vacant, lonely street, barely hearing his low directions as they rounded a corner. They were just passing into a residential area now, and despite the agony of timidness she'd seen so far from this town and its citizens, she still stiffened at the homey feeling the snug little houses exuded. That feeling of love and belonging that had been stolen from her viciously... as vicious as the sudden snap of a parent's neck. Shaking her head, hard, to dispell the haunting images that clung like a revolting film to her mind's eye, she almost didn't hear him beside her. "Buffy?" his voice was a whisper - soft and gentle... and concerned. It had been ages since anyone had been concerned about her - except for that Jeeves guy, who seemed kind of nice - and she almost mistrusted it until she turned and saw his expression. It was filled with the same yearning that had captivated her earlier, convincing her that although he was a demon in a human body, he had a soul. The longer she let herself drown in his deep brown eyes, the more she found herself believing. It wasn't just the scars on his chest - though only endless, repeated torture could have produced such deep marks on a vampire - she actually found herself buying his "you're my destiny" line. Destiny? What did she know about destiny? Well... she knew it was her destiny to die. Her Watcher reminded her of that delicate fact on a regular basis, which was only one of the many reasons she'd basically stopped reporting back to him altogether. She knew it was her destiny to be hurt. To fight and to still lose. To struggle endlessly, knowing that someday, some way, an evil creature was going to be just a little bit faster, a bit more clever... and it would be over for her. Finished. Nowhere in her destiny was there anything about a heartbreakingly beautiful man with soulful eyes who lived to protect and cherish her. "Buffy... are you okay?" She felt a shiver, not unpleasant, move up her spine at his words. Something about her name on his lips sounded like a caress. She'd never felt anything like it before. "Fine. I'm fine," she tried to say curtly, though it came out much milder than she'd planned. Forcing herself to look away from him, realizing that they were standing motionless on the sidewalk, she looked at the small businesses and houses they were near. "Nice," she commented. There, that came out sounding cynical, just as she'd intended. "It was, once," he replied. "Before." He didn't seem inclined to elaborate. Instead, he led her past a narrow alley, glancing down the truncated length of it to make certain it was deserted. "Wait." Buffy stopped him... and for a long moment she couldn't have explained why. Now it was his turn to glance back at her impatiently... though his eyes were too soft to wear the expression easily. She didn't answer his obvious, unspoken question - instead choosing to turn and venture down the alley. The walls were faded brick on either side, and even from here she could see that the alley was a dead end. 'Walking into a trap!' her senses - which sounded revoltingly like her Watcher's voice - screamed at her. She turned around to face the street, and saw the vampire watching her. Not just any vampire, though. She cocked her head at him as he drew nearer, his dark head turning from side to side, searching for whatever it was he'd missed that she'd seen. "What's your name?" He stopped looking around, his gaze snapping back to her, his dark eyes surprised. "Angel." "Pretty name," she blurted out before she could stop herself, regretting the words instantly. They were too soft, too weak. He could take advantage of such a simple thing. Hurt her. "You think so?" He seemed even more surprised... but pleased. "I..." at a loss for words, she avoided his interest, ducking her head to hide her eyes from him. Instead, she leaned up against one of the brick walls, feeling the faint scratching of the mortar through her rough shirt. "Shouldn't we..." he began, apparently wondering why they were taking a break. "In a minute," she snapped, cutting him off. He looked hurt for the span of about two heartbeats... then his eyelids dropped, shuttering his emotions. It made her feel... bad. She couldn't remember the last time she had hurt someone's feelings, as she knew she'd just done to him, and cared. Had she become so inhuman? "Sorry," she muttered, and it didn't make her feel any better, really. He shrugged a little, but wouldn't look at her. "So what are we waiting for?" She suddenly wondered if he were a dream... a fantasy of some kind. Just some clouded, gorgeous, kind, tender figment of her imagination. Or maybe she'd finally gone over the edge. Her Watcher was forever warning her to be on her guard against the insidious tendrils of mental instability. He said it would be "an inevitable response to all the death and destruction you mete out", whatever he meant by that. So... if she didn't die first, she could look forward to slowly, inevitably going out of her mind. Fun for all. She almost giggled at the thought, then bit it back, realizing it might sound odd to her possibly- imaginary companion. She ran her eyes over his tall, lean body as he stood there in the stark alley. No. Not imaginary. He certainly looked real enough. "Do you want me?" As soon as the words left her mouth, she wished them back. He looked stunned. His eyes were wide, his mouth hanging open just slightly. As she watched, he seemed to shiver completely from head to toe. It was interesting. Like a dog shaking water from its fur, almost. "I'm sorry... I thought you said..." he seemed to be attempting to smile wryly, but it was a sickly expression, full of confusion. She shook her head, pushing away from the wall. It had been a stupid thought anyway... they didn't have time for her foolishness now. "Nothing," she assured him, moving towards him, fully intending to walk past him out of the alley, away from the temptation of something so crazy... He stopped her. With his body. He moved to block her exit, and she cursed herself a fool for believing his pathetic little story back in the nightclub. This was it... this was the demon who was going to prove himself by killing the Slayer. She straightened her spine, drawing her body up to its full height - still nowhere near his - and raised her eyes to his face, preparing herself for a fight. He didn't look like he was ready to give her one. His eyes were full of longing and agonized confusion, his lips trembled as he gazed at her... there was an air of complete desperation about him now. "I waited... I... for you..." he whispered. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry I never made it," she said softly, surprising herself, a vein of tenderness in her voice she couldn't recall having ever heard before. He let out a quiet, harsh sound, his arms reaching for her... she denied years of training to avoid them and simply stood there, letting him hold her, crush her body to his. As they stood there, she allowed herself to feel something she'd almost forgotten. That someone cared for her. HE cared for her. She felt a sob building up in her chest, choking her with its intensity. Fighting it down, she burrowed closer to him. "I wish... I wish..." her voice was breaking, and she struggled for the control that had been ripped away by his obvious emotion. Then she wondered why she was bothering. Why fight it? Why fight herself? She took a deep breath against the strong bands of his arms against her sides, knowing what she wanted. She wanted to feel loved. Completely. *I wish you loved me. I wish we could be together. I wish I could grow old with you beside me*. No - all too needy... and long years of sustained terror and combat had left their dirty marks on her soul, not allowing her to express such weakness. But she needed him in this moment, more than anything. "I want... no... I wish... wish you would..." Unable to articulate her need, she raised her hands to his neck, pulling him roughly down to her level to kiss him fiercely. He gasped against her mouth, probably in surprise, but she didn't relinquish her hold on him. She was excited... thrilled by the blood rushing through her body... felt so alive. He gasped again... but didn't push her away. Their coupling was hurried, furtive. Neither could completely forget they were in an alley in what amounted to a war zone. He pushed her against the wall, his hands fumbling in his haste to touch her skin. Their mouths fused hotly, hers opening first to accept him. He whimpered against her lips. He lifted her body higher against his. "Want... want you... Angel..." she moaned deliriously, arching her neck to press her head against the rough brick. She could feel the sharp edges of cement particles digging lightly into her scalp, tiny hurts that were insignificant in the moment. Her hands roamed down his body, skirting the horrible wounds on his chest as he hissed in pain. Her fingers felt thick. She came back to herself quickly as faint screams of terror and pain filtered to her ears on the night breeze. He heard them too - pulling quickly from her. Staring fixedly at a pathetic, dangling button on his shirt, she wondered if this moment would be all they would ever have. She wished for more. Maybe after all this was taken care of - the Master a dusty memory - he would agree to come back to Cleveland with her. Or somewhere else... anywhere else... just as long as they were together. Jeeves was a Watcher, maybe he could... "We should go." His words were a faint wisp of sound in the alley, but they stopped her fantasies cold. He was standing a little away from her now, having finished adjusting their clothing for both of them. He still wasn't looking at her. She was frightened by the weakness she felt welling up in her, choking her. "A-angel?" she said softly, trying to catch his eyes. He finally looked at her... and he was crying. Shattered. "Angel! What...?" She wondered if she'd done the wrong thing - complicating an already confusing situation. But a small part of her soul - the part that had prodded her into breaking a wounded vampire's shackles instead of staking his heart - told her that they could never have been anything less than everything to each other.