Post Chosen/Home. Buffy is in Los Angeles with her father and Dawn. She is avoiding the inevetible meeting with Angel. First chappie in a possible series. I have written several different versions of events after seasons 7/4. Bear with me. It's just too fun to leave alone!
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon/ME own these characters and events. I just play here. All lines from various Buffy episodes are property of their various writers. Thanks for the wonderful words, guys.
Feedback: does a body good. Should I keep on with this?
Enjoy!
I sigh expectantly, waiting for the punchline. There's none coming.
"Dawn? Where's the funny here? Cause I'm not laughing." She stares at me like I've grown a second head. "I'm not shooting for funny, Buffy. I'm going for please face here," my sister tells me.
"I don't know, Dawny. We were heading for Cleveland. I don't know how safe L.A. is these days. We did head off The First, but you can't destroy evil like that. It always comes back. And the nearest Hellmouth is in Cleveland…" I trail off at the downtrodden expression on her face. I know she wants to stay here and go to school. But I just don't feel comfortable with her here on her own…even if Dad's around. He still doesn't know what to make of the "collapse" of Sunnydale as he puts it.
"Buffy, how could this be any more dangerous than Cleveland? Besides, Dad's here, and my friends are here, and hey! Angel's here. Doesn't he watch over this city, and I can always call him if I-"
I slam the door on that idea. "Uh uhn. No calling Angel. He's got enough stuff going on." "But Buffy-" she starts, and stops at the shake of my head. "I'll have to think about this, Dawny. That's the best I can do for you." And I walk away, to the porch outside and the night.
The steps seem very small right now. Truth be told, the whole world seems a little small right now. I can't seem to catch my breath lately, and my chest feels constricted all the time. Having been in town a few weeks, I had thought being around family and having some down time would help. It really hasn't. And the thing I want most of all, the person I really came here to see, I haven't had the guts to go and see yet.
The last time we spoke, I made vague conversation about not being finished. And it's true. I'm not sure what I'm gonna do or be now. And the more I think about it, the more that seems okay. But I have this ache inside me, a small hole that seems to get larger every day. And I try to fill it with stuff like hanging around with my friends, being with Dawny, trying to get to know my dad again, just trying to be that old Buffy again that had no worries, no monsters to fight, no world to defend. And I haven't been her in so long I don't know how to do it anymore. And why would he even want me if I wasn't that girl anymore?
There's nothing special about me now, I can't help but think. It was a great relief to have the solo slayer burden lifted off me. But every day that passes after the one when the slayers were activated, I feel more and more disconnected; more confused and lost.
And I don't like it.
I've been Buffy, The Vampire Slayer for so long, I don't know how to be Buffy, Regular Girl.
I'm still strong, I still have the ability to kick evil ass. But the difference is, it's not just me and Faith anymore. There's girls everywhere like us. And each one is awakening to her new possibilities. It's pretty heady when you first realize what you are capable of. But now that there's a lot of us, I feel like I've been downsized from a big corporation.
There were times in my tenure on the Hellmouth that I felt like Buffy, Regular Girl. The prom was one. Just dancing in Angel's arms made me feel like I've never felt before. It was my one perfect high school moment, devil dogs not withstanding.
Him there in his tux, looking so beautiful and sad, like he always had a tendency to do. Me in my kick dress, with my award and my friends around me. We could have been just another couple, dancing there to the tinkly music. Instead, we were a vampire slayer and her undead ex boyfriend, who were dancing together for the last time.
I can't believe you're breaking up with me.
How am I supposed to stay away from you?
After the ascension, if we survive, I'm leaving town.
Heart? You have a heart?
What was the highlight of our relationship? The pain, the longing, the unconsumated lust? God forbid we should have any time with lightness and joy instead of unending, ripping sadness. My Angel and me never had it easy. Hell, I turned to G.I. Joes and platinum blonde monsters to forget him.
And it worked, for a little while. I will never regret Spike for that.
I hear the door open and close behind me. I try not to sigh impatiently as I speak. "Dawn, I haven't come to a decision yet, okay? So just give me a break."
"I would, if I were her."
The voice jolts me out of my memories, and I turn around in surprise. His eyes crinkled at the corners, he's smiling that crooked smile I so love to see.
"Angel. What are you…I, uh, meant to come see you. I've been doing a lot of stuff. You know, Dad stuff, Dawn stuff, uh…me and Xander…uh, well…" I trail off, as his smile gets wider. He sits on the steps next to me.
"It's okay, Buffy. I've been doing a lot of…stuff, too." We gaze at each other. My grin bursts out on my own face and I reach for him.
He's so big! I had forgotten how hard it was to just get my arms around his chest. I inhale deeply, and the faint whiff of hair gel and that all familiar Angel smell tinges my nostrils. Bliss. It feels great.
His arms lock around my back, and he pulls away slightly, looking me in the eye.
"How are you really?"
I try to evade the question, and glance up at him. "How's the gang? Wesley? Cordy?"
His face darkens slightly at my mention of her name. "They're okay. Quit trying to change the subject."
I never could fool him. I wrap my arms around myself now, and he plants his hip next to mine on the step, and I revel in the closeness. He always was like comfort food to me.
"You know everything that happened." I state. He nods. "I do."
"So I don't really need to explain why I feel the way I do," I say, and look out at the backyard and the night sky. His arm creeps around my shoulders.
"No, Buffy, you don't. I just thought if you needed to talk about it, well, I'm listening. And I'm glad you're here. In L.A., I mean."
I put my hand on his leather clad knee, (when did he start wearing the leather pants again??) and his other hand covers mine.
"No offense, Angel, but can we just sit here? I'm kind of talked out," I tell him, and realize I mean it. I lean into his embrace, and the silver of the necklace I'm wearing glints in the moonlight.
He laughs quietly, and I glance at him askance. "What's funny?"
"You're wearing that cross again. I haven't seen it for a while."
I touch the cool metal of the plain cross I had started wearing again only recently, after Spike had gone, and on the way to L.A.
"You remember what you said when you gave it to me?" I ask him, and he gazes forward, joining me in my adoration of the night.
"Let's just say…I'm a friend."
"Maybe I don't want any friends," I respond.
"Didn't say I was yours," he laughs again, a touch of irony in his voice this time. "God, time passes fast."
I nudge him. "Well, yeah, especially for you." He smiles into the dark.
"Not as fast as I would like it too, sometimes."
Now it's my turn to look concerned. He does seem a little down. A lot down, actually.
I put my fingers under his chin, and tilt his head my way. With surprise, I realize a sheen of moisture is present in his dark eyes. "Angel, what's going on?' I ask, really worried now.
"Nothing to do with you," he says, and that mask crashes down over his features again, and he cuts himself off from me. Uh uhn. Not this time, pal.
"Angel, how many times have you been there for me? Really there. I can't count them. So I'm here now. What's eating you?"
"I'm just tired, Buffy. It's nothing," he states firmly, and I know I'm not gonna get anything out of him tonight. He shifts his weight around, and I put my head against his chest as naturally as if it were four years ago, and we were together again. What are we doing, really? Do I still want this?
He notices my stiffness, and says awkwardly, "Uh, do you want me to move?" I snuggle closer to him, and try to relax. "No, please don't. I need you right now." And I really do.
You bet I still want this.
He sighs, and wraps his arms around me again, resting his chin on my head.
That tingly feeling I remember so well from so long ago resurfaces as if it had never left. I feel tears start to prick my eyes, and sniff loudly to try and suck them back in. No dice.
Great. Now I'm turning my best friend and forever love into a wet wool mess.
He just holds me and lets me cry, rubbing small circles on my back. I think he knows why I'm suddenly overcome. He feels it too, I'm sure.
Even with his sweater soaked, he still looks beautiful. He smiles at me, and his own eyes swim with unshed tears as well.
Buffy and Angel. Heartbreak and crying go hand in hand with us.
"I'm so tired, Angel. And I don't know what to do now. Dawn's taken care of, the other girls have gone on to Cleveland with Faith, and I'm here…doing nothing. I'm nobody now. I have no purpose. And here we are together again, and I still can't be with you. And that kills me just as much as anything else that's happened. Do you get it? Where am I? What am I supposed to do now? This is what I've wanted, what I dreamed about the whole time I was the Slayer, and now I have it, and I want my old life back. What's wrong with me?" It all spills out in a rush, amid much snuffling and sobbing. He just pulls me tighter to his chest, and listens.
"Nothing's wrong with you, Buffy. Believe me, I get what you're saying. It's very disconcerting to have a goal, a purpose, and then have it turned upside down, and discarded like it meant nothing. But it doesn't take away from you as a person, your worth as a human being. You're still special. There's only one Buffy Summers, and I for one am better for knowing her. Solitary slayer or not," he tells me. "You were a worthy person before being called, while you were the only slayer, and now, too. You're even more special now, having gone through what you have. I admire you for doing it. And I know you can do it. You don't need anyone to hold you up. We'll all be right behind you, drawing our own strength from you. It's always been that way; it always will, for me."
God, I love him. He always knows the right things to say. And for once, I actually believe him. If Angel feels this way about me, if he believes in me, I can make it through this. I can learn to stand on my own. No matter what I end doing, or being.
I pull away from him, and sit up. He raises an eyebrow, looking at me quizzically.
"Angel. How about you and me figure out my future together?"
"What about…not being finished?" he asks me, a little light of hope in his eyes. I want that light to blossom.
"Let's find that out together, okay? I'm willing to try if you are," I say, and that hope does blossom. It's huge, and it makes his whole face glow.
"I need my true friends around me now. And what cookies can finish without the other ingredients?" I say, then frown, realizing how goofy that sounds. He smiles anyway. "Sorry, you know what I mean."
He touches my face softly. "I do."
I wrap my fingers around his, and we stand as one.
"Let's go in, and start finishing."