Title: Regular 1/1
Author: Danielle
E-mail: PrincessCashew@hotmail.com
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Up to Flooded on Buffy and Carpe Noctem on Angel
Summary: My take on the meeting that Buffy and Angel shared
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, and whoever has rights to these people in court. Do not sue me, I'm poor anyway.
Feedback: I would love it so much if you sent me some! Just pass it on to PrincessCashew@hotmail.com
Distribution: Whoever wants it can have it, just e-mail me first so I can come and visit.
Author's Note 1: This is written for my buddy Incuboo, Happy 17th! Hope it lives up to your expectations! I love you Yeojin!
Author's Note 2: This is my fist B/A fluff piece. Ok, this is my first B/A piece all together. Much more of a B/S angst author here. So sorry if this is terrible and all out of character, I tried.
There are fingerprints on the windows. A lot of other people have sat in these maroon seats, digits absently rubbing against the glass. Smudges of those who are going home, and those who are leaving it. Little children on mothers' laps and old ladies carrying plastic bags to put onto their blue hair if it rains.
And then there is her. Twenty years old, dead twice, with nothing more than the clothes on her back. Twenty-seven cents left in her pocket after she paid for this bus ticket. She doesn't even think she has her house keys. That can't be good.
Months. It's been months, but she heard his voice on the phone and it was just like she'd never left this earth. Hell, it was like high school again when she'd sit on her white frilly comforter and play out their future in her head. Too bad it hadn't worked out like that.
Still he had wanted to see her, and she really had no idea why she hadn't called him first, been the one to tell him that she was back among the living. But she hadn't, and she regretted it, and she missed him. She missed him most now, she always did, right before she would be able to see him again.
They were meeting somewhere in the middle, she couldn't remember the name of the stop, but the woman she had bought the ticket said it would be the third stop. The first time she'd get to be near him again since her mother had died. God, had it really been that long? Who was she kidding, it was an eternity.
She'd wished she'd taken the time to put on some makeup, or to change or even to brush her hair, but his voice had thrown her for a loop, and all she could think about while listening to him speak was getting closer to where he was and watching his lips move as he said the words. So instead she sat staring back at the thin and unflushed face from the dirty panes. When had she gotten so old?
She felt the bus slowing, and she realized that she hadn't been keeping count of how many stops this had been. Her heart sped up a little with the fear of never making it to where she was supposed to, but then he was there, looking right back at her through the window.
Her Angel.
He hadn't changed much, not that she had expected him to, but there was something comforting in that, not everything had altered while she was gone.
She ran from her seat, brushing against the other passengers a little rudely, brain not working enough to realize she should be apologizing. She jumped from the top step at the front of the bus, skidding her knees onto the dirt when she landed.
He gave her his hands to help her up, and that little contact sent flickers running all along the inside of her palms. He bent to kiss the top of her head and she pushed up slightly with her sneakers to meet his lips more easily.
Her protector. The one who made it all better. Who'd always understand her.
He led her into a restaurant, a diner with red and white checkered tablecloths and a jukebox at every booth. "It's the best I could do, sorry there are no candles or violins."
"That stuff doesn't matter at all Angel, you know that."
"You look beautiful." She looked at her dusty clothes and broken nails. Little wisps of hair all fallen out of the ponytail she'd secured them in and she knows her lips are chapped. But it doesn't matter to him. So she smiles.
"How have you been?" She feels stupid for asking the question, the kind strangers use when addressing one another, and he shouldn't be a stranger to her.
"Was dealing with a lot of things, but they kind of got resolved. Resurrection will sometimes do that." He grins a little, and she'd forgotten what he looked like when he did. Weren't many moments that they shared together than allowed for levity and positive facial expressions.
"I'm sorry I didn't call. I just, I don't know. It was so awkward to be back, and then there was no money and I brought back some demon that was possessing everyone, but I'm sorry. I just want you to know that I never meant not to call."
"It's ok Buffy. We're here now. And trust me, dwelling on things isn't always a good idea. Leads to so many other issues." He grins again, and she feels herself following suit.
She giggles, and she can't believe that she's doing this, laughing. It feels different, so real with none of the fake acrid taste usually left in her mouth when she tries to feign contentment for her friends. She think she's being a bit too loud, but doesn't care that everyone else in the restaurant is staring at her, because she knows what they must think; that she's a normal girl out with her normal boyfriend for a normal piece of pie.
The tears are streaming down her cheeks now, and Angel's puzzled expression only makes her laugh harder, her cheeks flaming and chest heaving as she tries to gasp for some air. "We. We. We're just like regular people." She manages to sputter the statement out, while she rubs the moisture from her eyelashes.
This was what she had hope for, regularity. And he'd given it to her. She felt alive and vibrant and it didn't matter at this point that she'd been in heaven, cause this was good enough, her fantasy finally come true.
He leans over the table, almost spilling the sweating glasses of ice water, and kisses her on the lips. "I have no idea what you're talking about." His eyes smile into hers.
She starts laughing again, and she knows that as long as she remembers this moment, she'll never have to be empty again. "Thank you, for everything."
"You're welcome, although I don't know what everything is" He kisses her again. "You're more than welcome."
Author: Danielle
E-mail: PrincessCashew@hotmail.com
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Up to Flooded on Buffy and Carpe Noctem on Angel
Summary: My take on the meeting that Buffy and Angel shared
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, and whoever has rights to these people in court. Do not sue me, I'm poor anyway.
Feedback: I would love it so much if you sent me some! Just pass it on to PrincessCashew@hotmail.com
Distribution: Whoever wants it can have it, just e-mail me first so I can come and visit.
Author's Note 1: This is written for my buddy Incuboo, Happy 17th! Hope it lives up to your expectations! I love you Yeojin!
Author's Note 2: This is my fist B/A fluff piece. Ok, this is my first B/A piece all together. Much more of a B/S angst author here. So sorry if this is terrible and all out of character, I tried.
There are fingerprints on the windows. A lot of other people have sat in these maroon seats, digits absently rubbing against the glass. Smudges of those who are going home, and those who are leaving it. Little children on mothers' laps and old ladies carrying plastic bags to put onto their blue hair if it rains.
And then there is her. Twenty years old, dead twice, with nothing more than the clothes on her back. Twenty-seven cents left in her pocket after she paid for this bus ticket. She doesn't even think she has her house keys. That can't be good.
Months. It's been months, but she heard his voice on the phone and it was just like she'd never left this earth. Hell, it was like high school again when she'd sit on her white frilly comforter and play out their future in her head. Too bad it hadn't worked out like that.
Still he had wanted to see her, and she really had no idea why she hadn't called him first, been the one to tell him that she was back among the living. But she hadn't, and she regretted it, and she missed him. She missed him most now, she always did, right before she would be able to see him again.
They were meeting somewhere in the middle, she couldn't remember the name of the stop, but the woman she had bought the ticket said it would be the third stop. The first time she'd get to be near him again since her mother had died. God, had it really been that long? Who was she kidding, it was an eternity.
She'd wished she'd taken the time to put on some makeup, or to change or even to brush her hair, but his voice had thrown her for a loop, and all she could think about while listening to him speak was getting closer to where he was and watching his lips move as he said the words. So instead she sat staring back at the thin and unflushed face from the dirty panes. When had she gotten so old?
She felt the bus slowing, and she realized that she hadn't been keeping count of how many stops this had been. Her heart sped up a little with the fear of never making it to where she was supposed to, but then he was there, looking right back at her through the window.
Her Angel.
He hadn't changed much, not that she had expected him to, but there was something comforting in that, not everything had altered while she was gone.
She ran from her seat, brushing against the other passengers a little rudely, brain not working enough to realize she should be apologizing. She jumped from the top step at the front of the bus, skidding her knees onto the dirt when she landed.
He gave her his hands to help her up, and that little contact sent flickers running all along the inside of her palms. He bent to kiss the top of her head and she pushed up slightly with her sneakers to meet his lips more easily.
Her protector. The one who made it all better. Who'd always understand her.
He led her into a restaurant, a diner with red and white checkered tablecloths and a jukebox at every booth. "It's the best I could do, sorry there are no candles or violins."
"That stuff doesn't matter at all Angel, you know that."
"You look beautiful." She looked at her dusty clothes and broken nails. Little wisps of hair all fallen out of the ponytail she'd secured them in and she knows her lips are chapped. But it doesn't matter to him. So she smiles.
"How have you been?" She feels stupid for asking the question, the kind strangers use when addressing one another, and he shouldn't be a stranger to her.
"Was dealing with a lot of things, but they kind of got resolved. Resurrection will sometimes do that." He grins a little, and she'd forgotten what he looked like when he did. Weren't many moments that they shared together than allowed for levity and positive facial expressions.
"I'm sorry I didn't call. I just, I don't know. It was so awkward to be back, and then there was no money and I brought back some demon that was possessing everyone, but I'm sorry. I just want you to know that I never meant not to call."
"It's ok Buffy. We're here now. And trust me, dwelling on things isn't always a good idea. Leads to so many other issues." He grins again, and she feels herself following suit.
She giggles, and she can't believe that she's doing this, laughing. It feels different, so real with none of the fake acrid taste usually left in her mouth when she tries to feign contentment for her friends. She think she's being a bit too loud, but doesn't care that everyone else in the restaurant is staring at her, because she knows what they must think; that she's a normal girl out with her normal boyfriend for a normal piece of pie.
The tears are streaming down her cheeks now, and Angel's puzzled expression only makes her laugh harder, her cheeks flaming and chest heaving as she tries to gasp for some air. "We. We. We're just like regular people." She manages to sputter the statement out, while she rubs the moisture from her eyelashes.
This was what she had hope for, regularity. And he'd given it to her. She felt alive and vibrant and it didn't matter at this point that she'd been in heaven, cause this was good enough, her fantasy finally come true.
He leans over the table, almost spilling the sweating glasses of ice water, and kisses her on the lips. "I have no idea what you're talking about." His eyes smile into hers.
She starts laughing again, and she knows that as long as she remembers this moment, she'll never have to be empty again. "Thank you, for everything."
"You're welcome, although I don't know what everything is" He kisses her again. "You're more than welcome."
