Authors Note: I do not own Buffy, Angel (dagnabbit) or any other BtVs or AtS characters, they are solely the property of Joss Whedon &etc.
Following my trend of severe and deluded wishful thinking, I've brought Angel into Once More, With Feeling, just so that the broody vamp can have a little bit of a sing-a-long too, and he's not just singing with Buffy. It seemed this way in the episode; so I kept with the trend that everyone's voice was reasonably tolerable, because anyone who has heard Angel singing Mandy in AtS knows that that's something that should never be willingly brought into the world. Honestly, that gives Angelus a run for his money. ;) Enjoy, comments and reviews are welcome. You'll have to forgive me for making the most amateur mistake in poetry; rhyming 'you' with 'you', but I just liked how it fit with what I was trying to say.
Oh, and for the simple convenience of my writing, Buffy doesn't face the demon until three days after it begins and Angel arrived on the first day.
Also, I can't remember what's happening on Angel at the exact time Once More With Feeling is shown, so you know what? Disregard it! I'm rebelling! Nothing is happening, that's what! Yeah.
Buffy walked down the dark alley, she needed a fight. All of this singing was driving her insane, she really needed something to pummel. Soon.
"Going through the motions..." she whispered to herself, and then shook her head in an effort to dismiss these all-too-accurate thoughts.
She had no idea how to 'fix herself', or what exactly that entailed, and neither did her friends. There were only two people who she knew could possibly make things easier on her for the moment, and they were both dead. Incidentally, one of them could still walk and talk. The first was her mother, the second was...
Not to be thought about, she finished for herself.
Her gloomy thoughts were interrupted by a vampire trying to land an aerial attack on her. Dodging this and pulling out her stake, the dance began again.
"Buffy's in trouble," Giles said in a hushed tone into the telephone.
"What? What happened? She's not -" fear flooded Angel, she'd only just been resurrected.
"No, no. They brought her back, but - as you must have seen when you two met - she's not completely...there," Giles' voice was filled with fatherly concern.
"Yeah, I saw. I just assumed that since she'd only been brought back a few days prior...I just thought she'd recover."
"As did we all. She's not coping I fear, and since you yourself have come back from both death and Hell, I was hoping that you could perhaps speak with her - her feelings must be quite palpable to you -, I understand this must seem exceedingly impertinent, but -"
"I understand. How soon do you want me there?" Angel stood and began grabbing a few things to take with him, the receiver still at his ear.
Giles sounded extremely relieved by Angel's acquiescence. "As soon as possible; if at all achievable, by tomorrow?"
"Okay," Angel paused, voicing his one concern, "I'm just worried that she might think that my return might be more... Permanent."
Angel could almost hear Giles smiling sadly, "You needn't fear; I daresay she has no such hope, Angel."
Ignoring the melancholy feeling this comment inspired, Angel finished the phone call quickly with a short, "I'll be there as soon as I can. I'll leave now."
"Thank you, Angel."
Angel hung up the receiver and dialled Cordy's number; she answered after several rings.
"Hello?"
"Cordy, it's Angel, I have to go to Sunnydale, there's a bit of an emergency -"
"Angel? Are you sure? The Powers haven't shown me anything apocalyptic. Then again, it is Sunnydale," she snorted, "if they showed me every time there was trouble there I'd never get time in my own head."
"No, not that kind. Just... Buffy. Giles says she isn't adapting to life as well as they'd hoped, and since I've been through the same thing..."
"Except that you were soulless and killed a bunch of people," Cordy said, and then after noticing Angels' pregnant pause, continued with, "Yeah, I get it, I'll get Wes and Gunn to cover the major stuff, but you have to do all of my paperwork for at least two weeks when you get back."
Angel smiled to himself, "Alright. Tell everyone I said goodbye. See you Cordy."
"Bye. Oh, and Angel?"
"Mm?"
"If you brood for more than two days -"
"Goodbye, Cordy."
Angel was about to walk out the door when he remembered Fred. He walked up the stairs and knocked on the door. "Fred?"
Distracted and slightly erratic, Fred turned and grinned as she saw Angel, "Oh, Angel. Hi. Sorry, I was just working on the mechanics of the theory of -"
Not doubting that she was about to say something that Angel - although two hundred and something years older than her - wouldn't understand, he cut her off. "You remember Buffy? The one that I went to meet a little while ago?"
"Oh, yeah."
"Something came up and I have to leave again for a few days. I'm sorry to leave you on your own, but Cordy, Gunn and Wes will all be here during the day and I'm sure Cordy would stay with you for a few nights if you wanted."
"Oh, okay," said Fred quietly, "No, that's... That's fine!"
Although unhappy to leave Fred alone in her fragile state, Angel really needed to get to Sunnydale. "See you in a couple of days Fred," he handed her a sheet of paper with his mobile number on it, "Call this number if there's a problem. It should be on speed dial, but just in case..."
"Okay. Yeah. Okay. Good. See you in a few days," Fred was suddenly distracted by some overly complicated thought.
"Bye," Angel said again. He rushed outside and into his car and headed to Sunnydale.
Walking along a darkened alley Angel's mind was filled with memories of his time in Sunnydale. He was surprised that he hadn't had any demons jumping out at him yet; this town was really being taken care of. Well, for Sunnydale, anyway, he thought.
He thought deeply about Sunnydale as he skulked through these familiar alleyways; his memories, his past and his present, and to his own amazement he was soon singing.
"This town still fills my soul with fear, the darkness in it treads too near, I warn myself to step away; remind myself it's her who'll pay," Angel continued walking down the street, staking vampires who seemed to hone in on and enrich his melody. For all of the strangeness this was creating, it seemed perfectly normal to him and still he continued to sing (in a somewhat more tolerable key than usual);
"It's here the evidence resides, of things I've done I've tried to hide. And still what am I; a moth to a flame? Passion my years should now have tamed: leads me closer, draws me in, whispers me the darkest sins."
He knew he was drawing closer to Giles' apartment now, and hoped to God that his song would finish soon. After a few more messy and melodically broody verses his mind told him that the song was coming to an end. "And still what am I? A moth to a flame? A passion I refused to tame; lights my way and leads my roughly; to my heart, and back to Buffy."
Finishing on sharp, quick note, Angel stood in front of Giles' door. If anyone ever finds out about that I think I'm going to have to commit a mass murder, he thought to himself. Hearing movement inside and praying to God that no one heard his song, Angel knocked on Giles' door impatiently.
Giles opened the door and looked relieved, even if it was five in the morning. "Angel, come in. I was just doing some research on -"
"Why am I singing?"
Giles looked taken aback. "Oh, so you know. That's very convenient from a time standpoint," Angel raised his left eyebrow to hurry Giles up, "- And well, it appears something is controlling Sunnydale, something that makes everyone more... musically inclined... than usual. Most likely it's a demon, though what species I've no idea. What did you sing about?"
Angel stared condescendingly. "What do you think?"
Giles nodded understandingly and began to explain further when Angel cut him off.
"Is it corporeal? Please give me something I can pummel," Angel begged.
Giles laughed, "Buffy said the same thing."
Angel was suddenly keenly interested, "What did she sing about?"
Giles' face darkened, "She didn't say, but I imagine it didn't pertain to the grandeurs of life in Sunnydale compared to a heavenly dimension."
In this sentence Angel was brought back to his reason for being here with a sudden thud. "No, probably not."
"There was a big group sing-a-long," Giles began as Angel fought the desire to laugh, "And she sang something along the lines of 'what can't we face if we're together, what's in this place that we can't weather. Apocalypse, we've all been there, the same old trips, why should we care?'"
"... Which basically translates to 'been there, done that, I couldn't care less because nothing matters anymore and nothing is new to me'?"
Giles nodded, "The others took it how I suppose she had hoped they would: they misconstrued it into a message of hope, strength and unity."
"With the right melody and a distracted mind that's a pretty easy mistake to make," Angel grew more anxious to see Buffy; the thought of her losing her spark made him very uneasy.
"Well, I highly doubt that she's awake, but I think that if you went by and saw her tomorrow night..." Angel nodded.
"I might go and stay at the mansion," Angel lied. "I'll be back here tomorrow night by sundown to talk to you; I'm going to need some sort of strategy."
"She's not a demon, Angel. You don't need to plan your angles and range of fire," Giles said stoically.
Angel's eyes bored into him, "Are you sure about that?"
Giles considered this for a moment, "Alright, come here at sundown...Oh, and by the way I wouldn't be concerned if I saw Spike; he lives in Sunnydale again."
Angel was alarmed by Giles' nonchalance about the matter, "What?! Why haven't you staked him!?"
Giles looked more than slightly uncomfortable, "He uh, fights with Buffy now. He has a chip in his head that makes him incapable of hurting a human being without severe and incapacitating neurological pain."
"He fights with Buffy? Buffy and Spike? Buffy agrees to this?" Angel asked disbelievingly.
"Yes, I know it's rather odd, but I think you'll see that he's changed quite a lot. He's unlike any other soulless vampire I've ever seen..." Giles seemed as though he had more to say on the subject, but stopped himself.
Angel just nodded and said his goodbyes for the day.
It was time to go and see Buffy.
*
As Angel walked through a cemetery to her house a familiar humming in his centre alerted him to Buffy's presence and one sniff of the air also alerted him to Spike's. Not knowing what to expect, Angel was surprised to hear Spike singing. He hid in the shadows and listened.
"- Rest in peace. I know I should go, but I follow you like a man possessed; there's a traitor here beneath my breast, if my heart could beat, it would break my chest, but I can see; you're unimpressed, so let me rest in peace."
As Spike sang Angel stood in utter shock. He knew from his experience that when you sang you were expressing your innermost and sometimes unwanted thoughts. These were Spike's innermost thoughts. Angel walked away quickly, afraid that Buffy would begin reciprocating some sort of love song. Soul or no soul, he didn't have that much restraint. His feet unconsciously lead him forward more and more quickly until he stood outside her house. Not wanting to be seen by Dawn, Angel moved to the side of the house, then deciding to distance himself so that Buffy wouldn't see or feel him anywhere nearby.
Patrolling for long enough until he was almost certain that Buffy would be asleep, Angel walked back to her house and climbed up into the tree next to her room, then watching the peaceful rising and falling of her mid-section. Something about this soothed Angel, and though he was nocturnal, he found himself dozing off.
His body woke him a few minutes before sunrise, registering the danger before his sleep-filled mind had. Cursing and running quickly into the nearest cemetery Angel hid in a large and luckily unlocked mausoleum.
Bending down and examining the structure Angel realised that there were no entrances to the tunnels in this tomb. It looked like he was stuck here all day. Damnit! A whole day wasted. He could have been researching or questioning demons in the sewers, but instead he was stuck in a damn crypt. He'd had enough of these to last him for the rest of his existence already.
Not to mention that there was definitely nothing to pummel.
His annoyance over losing a whole day was exacerbated by his bitterness about what he'd heard Spike sing the night before. He was being petulant and jealous, but he couldn't work up any sort of self-contempt about it. Not that you haven't got enough of that for one being, he thought, almost amusedly.
The day passed slowly, and Angel was indescribably relieved when the sun set.
Giles barely looked up when Angel arrived at his apartment. His face was buried so deep in books that calling an excavation team to extract him wouldn't have seemed like overkill to Angel. "Ah, Angel, hello."
"Hey Giles. Made any headway on the singing demon?"
"I've made two ballads and a breakaway pop-hit, but no headway. Has anything of the like happened to you since we last spoke?"
"No, thankfully."
"I would be overly cautious of these outbursts when you're near Buffy; the songs seem to be triggered when thoughts or feelings are amplified, apparently," Giles scanned a few messy pieces of paper that were presumably hand-written sources, "when the instigated thoughts are uncomfortable, hidden or exceedingly deep. Oh, and it helps to avoid asking open ended questions, or so I've found."
Angel replied to this with a hearty gulp.
Giles looked up, "How do you plan to approach her?"
"I don't know. I'm not even sure of what to say to her. I mean 'hey, sorry that you're suffering more than I can conceive because you sent me to hell and not heaven' doesn't seem to give the effect I'm looking for."
"That's probably not the best tactic, no."
"I wish I knew how to help her," Giles said sadly.
"Yeah, me too."
Suddenly soft, melancholy chords sounded in the background and Giles and Angel both groaned indignantly.
"I don't know what to say to her, to make it all okay for her. She's been to heaven, been through hell in place of this forsaken world," Giles began.
"And I'd go to Hell, a thousand times: a thousand pokers... a thousand rhymes," Angel smiled, "to see that girl to her next day and keep her demons bound away,"
"But I can't protect that girl this time," they both sung, "I'm faded light, an overused line. A stale plot with no real end; a spinning, sinking downward trend."
Giles sung; "She locks the door and keeps the key, the lights are off and she can't see, yet still she screams; 'It's blinding me'."
"One born in darkness, one in light, one will battle where the other can't fight. My battlefield is growing wider, as darkness feeds and grows inside her."
"So I can't protect my girl this time," they both sung, "I'm faded light, an overused line. A stale plot with no real end; a spinning, sinking downward trend."
Giles softened his voice; "My mind clears and my heart is frozen: why the shadows, she has chosen -"
"My heart is frozen," Angel echoed softly in time with Giles, "But distance is the path I've chosen."
"Is construed in an epiphany..." Giles sat, looking weak, "Her shadowed shelter now is me."
"I still regret the space between," Angel sang in unison with Giles' last line, "I'm helping her but here for me."
The soft piano chords faded out and Giles and Angel stared at each other.
"I think I might go now just in case that hap-" Angel began.
"Please do," Giles snipped.
*
Angel had just done a duet with Giles...And he thought he'd seen everything. He made a mental note to think about that the next time Lorne read him (with his own presence cut out of the memory, of course). Lorne would enjoy hearing the British mans' wonderful voice.
It was a couple of hours after sunset and Angel knew that Buffy would be patrolling because she, like him, would be expressing a severe and highly urgent need to pummel something into the ground.
That warm, familiar tingle blossomed in his stomach and he knew that she too would feel it. He spotted her swift and erratic movements and the frantic look in her eye that meant she was searching for him. Her eyes were wide and she whispered ever so quietly, "Angel?"
Suddenly he was unsure, and partly afraid. What if he sang something that hurt her more? No, he told himself. It's not sure that you'll sing. You don't have to sing, so just answer her.
"Buffy," he answered tentatively. It was the answer to a thousand questions; the way they spoke each others' names.
"I..." she was hesitant walking up to him, "What are you doing here?"
Damn, he had no answer. "Well, Cordelia was trying to get out of seeing her parents for her birthday, so... she had me come down as her 'official' boss... to tell them that she was ill and..." he knew this sounded stupid. This even sounded stupid in his head, "It had just... I wanted to see how you were doing. It was a good excuse to come down and it got me out of a lot of paperwork," he lied ever so smoothly. It was actually the opposite way around. He cringed inwardly at the thought of all that incomplete paperwork with his name written on it (probably in several languages).
"Oh," she brightened slightly, but something in her eyes frightened Angel. He wasn't sure what it was yet, though. "Well, uh, I'm...Wait, are you supposed to be talking or am I?"
The corner of Angels' mouth curved upwards into the closest thing he had to a casual smile. "You can, if you'd like," at the look on her face, though, he corrected himself, "Or. I can. Either is good."
"How about you talk," she said, relieved.
"Okay. I, um," his mind became absent of words. "...Bought new fluffy dice for the Angelmobile?"
His inner voice (and not demon) scolded him for this. 'Bought new fluffy dice for the Angelmobile?' How you were completely alone for only ninety years is a total wonder. Smooth, Angel. Really smooth. Fluffy. Dice.
Buffy stared at him strangely for a moment, her head tilted slightly until she began laughing hysterically. "Fluffy... Dice... Oh, my God," she laughed, wiping tears of laughter away from her eyes. "You're the only vampire in existence who has a car with no roof and fluffy dice."
"Hey, it has a roof! It folds up," Angel had never used the roof, and was unsure of its' existance, but it seemed like a good thing to say and it sure as hell made him look better. Why didn't his car have a roof anyway?
Buffy nodded in mock solemnity. "I see. The Angelmobile must be a fashionable mistress, with a different coloured folding roof for all of her royal occasions and hanging die of many textures."
Angel let out a bark of laughter that probably shocked him more than it did her. "Indeed she does ma'am," he assured her, mimicking the tone.
The path of their conversation took Angel by surprise, mainly how easy and...light the conversation was. It was totally alien to him, and she probably wasn't familiar with it right now, either. As backwards as it seemed, Angel figured that if Buffy made this much of an effort (and she was making an effort, he'd never seen her laugh that hysterically; at least part of it was put-on) to be light and funny, then she must be trying to cover up some issues about as big, if not bigger than Giles had told him. He realised in an instant that her eyes looked... haunted.
"So, how are things in Sunnydale?" Angel asked, reverting back to his usual sombreness.
Buffy looked up at him for a second and opened her mouth to speak, then decided against it. Finally she said, "They're okay. I mean, they're not great, but they're okay. I'm dealing."
The last part was the biggest lie Angel had heard in a while, and he investigated soulless creatures for a living. "I see. I've seen some weird things here lately..." he said.
"Yeah, Sunnydale threw off the shackles of normalcy it had so strictly retained during your stay as soon as you left," Buffy retorted sarcastically.
"Well, when I was here I didn't hear Willy singing 'gotta-be-more-tips-under-that-slime' to a Chaos Demon."
"Oh. You mean like, weird weird..." Buffy said.
"Something along those lines," he replied, then deciding to get back on track, "How are Willow and Xander? And Giles?" he added, just in case Giles hadn't mentioned his contacting Angel to Buffy, which Angel supposed that he hadn't.
"They're all...Really good, actually. Giles is...Giles. He's been locked up with his research on the whole 'Hills-Are-Alive-With-The-Sound-Of-Music-In-Sunnydale' problem. Uh, Willow's good. Her and Tara are having some problems but..." Buffy's voice faltered, remembering that Angel didn't know that Willow was gay. "Tara is Willow's uh,"
"I know; I met her."
Buffy's eyes were wide. "You did? When?"
Angel didn't know whether to answer or not. She's been babied enough, that incessant little voice told him. "When I came back here for your funeral."
"...Oh," was all she said in reply. Her train of thought had clearly been run off its' rails.
"You were telling me how they are?"
"Yeah, right. Xander, he's good. He's engaged to Anya. You...met her?" when Angel nodded she continued. "Well, yeah. Xanders' engaged; permission to be surprised."
Angel, in fact, wasn't. When Xander had loved Buffy the level of devotion that Angel detected from the boy was enough to prove to him that he was the marry-young type. Still, he uttered a polite "Wow."
No more was said after that, and the pair walked to several different cemeteries (which held several different musical performances in them, each as unnerving as the last) due to Buffy's insistence that Dawn was at a sleepover and that she had no need or desire to be home. After finishing with the cemeteries the two just strolled through Sunnydale (which would have been dangerous for anyone but them).
Awkward for one, comfortable for the other: the silence was thus.
At least you haven't started singing, he thought, then, Oh God, I shouldn't have thought that. I really shouldn't have thought that.
"Angel?" Buffy said.
He was silent, terrified that the next words coming out of his mouth would be melodic.
Buffy, used to Angel's silence, took this as a queue to continue. "Why did you really come back? I mean...usually by now you would have left."
Angel looked at her gently, "I guess... I just wanted to see how you're coping. I know what it's like to be in Hell."
Buffy looked startled, not quite making eye contact with him. "I feel like...I have to be okay for them. Not just for Dawn, for everyone. Everyone expects me to suddenly snap out of it and be...'normal'," Angel could hear the quotation marks in her voice, "again. And what's worse," she continued, remaining outwardly calm, "is that they know it; how I feel... I think they do, but it's like it's a taboo subject. Let me deal, don't say anything. I..." she dropped her eyes, "I miss being dead."
Angel didn't really know how to respond to this, and rebelling against that little voice of logic in his head, he took her hand.
Smiling lightly, he turned and said; "It's not that great."
Gentle and unfamiliar laughter sparkled in Buffy's eyes.
This was it, there was a song building. There was no way to stop it. Buffy sang first. She released his hand and her posture wasn't defensive, moreso protective: a shield, more than a gun.
"There's a thunder storm, deep inside: thundering your name, asking why; do you come home, into my life? And leave me then, feeling empty – empty."
Angel was caught up in a dance that had begun, he stepped towards Buffy as she swiftly stepped around him, "I've been magnetised; attuned to you. You're my beating heart- the only thing I knew, so when I come home, and back to your side. It makes me whole, and leaves me empty – empty," Angel tried to stop the words from coming out, but they were both pouring their hearts out and neither of them could stop it.
"Twice I've been to hell: losing Mom and sending you. Twice I've been to heaven; though the portal and through you. Still in all this, I'm still alive; I beat the odds and the Slayer survives. Though I should have learned, I had to be taught twice; that it was heaven (and not hell); that would leave me empty – empty."
The two ex-lovers continued their dance, entranced by the orchestral whirlwind that played from nowhere.
"You don't understand; blood can't run through my veins, but the empty canals are still screaming your name."
"You can't comprehend that I feel like I'm maimed, and that after you left I was never the same," Buffy countered. The two looked directly at each other and sang their parting verses with several demons now providing sensational back-up dancing, "You were the angel I always dreamed of, the one that I kept on fighting for, and in the dark you were so well hidden; the lights were on but you shut the door."
"I was the thing that your nightmares were made of, you were the one I tried to draw. How dare you say it's nothing to me? You're the only light I ever saw."
"You're the only light I ever saw."
"The lights were on, but you shut the door."
The last lines were uttered softly to each other,
"Makes me whole,"
"Leaves me, empty."
"Takes my soul."
"Leaves me, empty."
Inching closer they sang together, "Empty."
As the song finished the vampires behind Buffy and Angel cocked their heads in confusion and walked away to feast on the night, slaughtering twice as many humans than usual to gain back lost dignity in having sung and accompanied a Slayer and an ensouled vampire in a love ballad.
Yes, sometimes even demons hated the Hellmouth.
*
"Well..." Buffy said quietly. Her blush was violent and Angels' was severe for someone with an inability for doing so. "That was uh... Interesting."
"...Yeah."
The awkwardness, although not easing, became more tolerable when a coherent thought returned to both of the two.
"You know I didn't leave you because I don't love you," Angel told his feet.
"I know," Buffy told hers. "It just feels like it sometimes."
"I know that you don't want to start this old song and dance," Angel paused to mediate on the irony of that phrase, "again, but I don't want to leave here without you knowing that I love you. Whatever you're missing in your life, however hopeless it feels, however... Lifeless it feels... No matter how lifeless it is, there's always love in death...There's always one lifeless thing that still loves you."
Buffy gazed at Angel, her eyes glittering with tears. "Thank you, Angel... That's..." she wiped her eyes, "...It's just what I needed to hear right now."
Angel laid his hand on Buffy's, a more serious look sweeping his face. He was asking permission, and giving the conditions. Buffy nodded and moved closer.
The two began to kiss, slow and soft, each expressing their need and replying to the others. It was gentle and delicate, but it was reassurance; it was knowing that someone out there mattered. It was strengthening the space between. The needs became more urgent and the two continued for some time before breaking apart breathlessly.
Angel ran the back of his hand tenderly across Buffy's cheek. They didn't need to say goodbye; it had already been said. She gingerly massaged his hand with her thumb and nodded once more, the two breaking apart.
Angel turned to walk away from the park the two were in, Buffy heading straight for the graveyard.
The two heard each other say it just as they did;
"God I need something to pummel."
Note: "- you were the one I tried to draw. How dare you say it's nothing to me? You're the only light I ever saw" is from the John Mayer song "Slow Dancing In A Burning Room". Didn't say that at the start because I didn't want to spoil the line.
Oh, and excluding Spike's song, 'going through the motions' and Slow Dancing in a Burning Room, I wrote all of the songs myself.
Well, there you go, hope you liked it. I had a lot of fun writing this. :D
Comments and reviews are, as always, very welcome. Thanks for reading!
