Damage
By Chrislee
A finale following: Tenderness, Wounded and Catch My Fall (probably won't make sense if you haven't read the first three)
Rated: very strong R
Disclaimer: Just borrowing them from Joss and Company- he owns 'em…I don't
Song: Blue Rodeo's "What Is This Love." Absolutely the best band on the planet…
Feedback: Sure. christie_mcdonal@hotmail.com
Damage
What is this love
That I leave behind
How can I turn
From the tears in your eyes
What is this world
Where we always pretend
That it is worth it
Worth it in the end
What is this life we share
That I just throw away
Is this love
That causes so much pain
What is the promise
That I leave behind
Why can't I
Just lie by you again
What's going on
How'd it get so wrong?
Damage
Angel watched Buffy. It was what he did best of all, watch her: up close, from the shadows, in his head. He could see her trying to make sense of his presence. Could almost read the thoughts as they passed through her clear, depthless eyes.
"Angel?"
The words had come out of his mouth before he'd really thought about the consequences. That's just it. We don't go back. We go forward. How was that possible? And he hadn't yet told her about Darla or the baby.
Angel leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to Buffy's forehead. He heard the air escape her lungs, a long, slow sigh and he felt his body stir instantly to life. There had been too little of this for them.
"Angel," Buffy started again. "Angel…I want…"
"I know, baby. Me too. Always." Angel smiled at her, this perfect creation laid out before him, a banquet, an offering.
"Even...even after…whatItoldyou?" the last of Buffy's words came out in a rush, as though she was afraid that the words themselves had the power to hurt her. But nothing would hurt her worse if Angel rejected her, if Angel was not able to forgive her.
Angel smiled. " I won't say that I like the idea of what happened much. That's a kind of pain I thought I'd never feel. I wanted you to go on, it's true. I wanted you to have a life that had some semblance of normalcy. I wanted you to be with someone who could give you all the things I couldn't…." Angel hesitated. He was about to say, "children," but under the circumstances he doubted even Buffy would miss the irony. "No question, I hate Spike," he stopped, looked into Buffy's eyes and said, softly, "but I could never hate you."
"That's okay, I hate me enough for both of us," Buffy said miserably, shifting under the weight of Angel's steady all-seeing gaze.
Lifting her chin with his long forefinger, Angel caught her eyes and whispered," Don't. If you want to hate someone, hate me. I was weak, although I've never been anything but. I walked away from you when I should've stayed and fought for you, for us. I thought it would be easier, to remove the temptation you presented to me, the desire to warm myself in your light, but I was a fool, Buffy. I was nothing but a damn fool. It didn't matter where I was, you were always with me, always in here," he moved the finger from her chin and pointed to his head. "And here," he indicated his chest. "How was I ever going to get you out from under my skin?" Angel's voice cracked. "I walked away from the only thing in my life that made me feel human, clean, redeemed somehow. You were it, Buffy. I didn't need an epiphany to tell me you were it."
"Angel," Buffy started, mesmerized by his confession.
"No, there's more, much more." Angel sat up and pulled her up to sit facing him.
"For a while, a long while, I was lost in a darkness so absolute, so complete I felt almost as though he was back. "You weren't the only one who tried to fill the darkness with something else, I did it too." Angel stopped, waiting for realization to dawn in Buffy. She nodded slowly, but said nothing. "Darla and I…"
"Wait a minute, Darla?" Buffy asked, puzzled. "You mean, Darla?"
"Long story, best saved for another day. Suffice to say, I went a little wacky and well…"
Buffy couldn't help it, the tears sprang to her eyes almost immediately when it suddenly occurred to her what Angel was trying to say.
"You slept with her?" she asked, incredulously.
"I fucked her. Nothing more, nothing less. I'm not proud of myself, Buffy, but at the time…"
Buffy closed her eyes at the image of Angel on top of Darla, moving into her, sinking his fangs into her flesh, hers into his, at the exact moment of orgasm.
"Buffy," Angel said firmly. "There's more."
Buffy wasn't sure she could bear more, but she also knew that to deny Angel his moment to come clean would put an insurmountable obstacle in their way. She swallowed, nodded and waited in silence.
"After it was over I told her to leave, that if I ever saw her again I would kill her. And that was that. Until I saw her again a few months later…very…pregnant."
"What?" Buffy squeaked. "What do you mean pregnant?"
"I mean she was pregnant. I know, "Angel shook his head thinking back to Darla's dissolving body and then, out of the ashes like a phoenix, his own son. "it's incredible. Unbelievable. A miracle."
"Oh my God," Buffy said.
"Just before you came yesterday she went into labour, Buffy. She wasn't doing well and neither was the baby and so Darla…Darla staked herself and, unbelievably…" tears suddenly filled Angel's dark eyes. "I have a son. A son, Buffy."
Buffy wasn't sure which moved her more: Angel's revelation that he was a father, or the tears which coursed down his beautiful face. A son. Buffy's heart convulsed. Angel's son. Not hers. Darla's.
"Oh my God," she said again.
"I don't know what it means. When you came yesterday, well, it had all only just happened and I reacted badly to your news about Spike. I'm sorry for that."
Buffy shook her head. "Sorry. You're telling me you're sorry?" It was all she could do to keep from breaking into hysterical laughter.
**
What is this dream
That I'll never find
What is this prayer
That's stealing my mind
What is this deal
That I've made with fate
And I wonder
If I've left it too late
What's goin' on
How'd it get so wrong?
Buffy swung her legs off the bed and went to stand by the window. She needed to step out from the blinding light of Angel's gaze. It was more intimate than any touch could ever be, always had been. Short moments later, Angel was behind her.
"Buffy," he said, a whisper in her ear. "Please look at me."
Buffy turned slowly. When she was facing him, Angel placed his hands gently on her shoulders and Buffy felt her knees buckle. The merest touch was enough to render her completely helpless. She'd been naïve enough to believe she could live without his touch had even told him that day in the sewer, right before the prom, that sex didn't matter, children didn't matter. He'd known the truth of it, though. So much older, so much wiser.
"This baby, for some reason, has made me believe that anything is possible. And, Cordelia, believe it or not weighed in on the whole situation with some pretty wise advice."
"Cordelia?" Buffy half-laughed.
"I know," Angel smiled. "Well, she's come a long way. The point is, if a vampire can have a baby…well, why can't I ...why can't I have you? What I came to realize after that whole Darla fiasco was that there wasn't any greater purpose to work toward; now, right now, that's all that counts. And if that's the case, if my reward is only in doing what's right at the moment than I have to assume that choosing you, choosing us is right, too. Otherwise why would I have been given the chance to know you at all. That day, on the steps of your school, when you walked into the light, God, Buffy, you blinded me. You- just you, before I knew a single thing about you, I loved you. And now, after everything, I love you even more. You're the other half of me, the better half and I can't walk away from you. I can't and I won't."
A sob tore, small and bleeding, from Buffy's throat. She felt her knees give way and, had it not been for Angel's strong arms, would have crumpled to the floor. But he caught her, held her, anchored her and when, nestled in the circle of his arms he finally kissed her, he completed her.
The kiss was possessive, consuming, fierce. Buffy didn't hesitate to kiss him back with equal passion; nearly swooned when he slipped his cool-hot tongue into her mouth. The sensation of having him so close nearly made her faint. This moment, this exact moment when he would kiss her just like this as if she belonged to him and only him, was the only thing that had kept her sane since the very second he'd walked out of her life after graduation. She wound his hair through her fingers, pulled him tighter against her and was rewarded with a guttural groan.
In an instant they were off the floor and she was on the bed. Angel stood beside her watching her, waiting.
"I…" she started.
"I know," Angel said, reading her thoughts.
Her silky drawstring pants came off first, then the tank top, leaving her naked and golden in the moonlight. He unbuttoned his shirt, letting it slip off his broad shoulders, exposing the wide expanse of his firmly muscled chest. His hands shook imperceptibly as he undid his belt, tugged down his fly and pulled his pants and boxers to the floor, pausing only long enough to slide off shoes and socks. Then: a moment of indecision, a second of fear, the unstated knowledge of the possibility of unspeakable consequences.
Buffy blinked and reached out her hand. Angel took it and she pulled him forward. He joined her on the bed, angled above her, his eyes hooded and unreadable.
"I want you to know, Angel, that I never meant to hurt you. I think I only ever really meant to hurt myself…."
"Shhh," Angel said, kissing her collarbone, the swell of her breast, the slope of ribcage and the jut of hipbone. The smell of her was intoxicating and Angel's cock felt painfully hard. He concentrated on Buffy, on the way her body responded to him even when he was barely touching her. He sensed that he could make her come without even touching her and the thought made him smile.
But there was time enough for that, Angel was certain. As he trailed a litany of kisses up the length of her glorious body, as he pulled her into an embrace that was both loving and possessive, as she buried her head into the slope between chin and shoulder, resting her small hand on his chest, Angel had only one thought: tomorrow would be time enough for repairing the damage. Tonight. Tonight was just this.
end
By Chrislee
A finale following: Tenderness, Wounded and Catch My Fall (probably won't make sense if you haven't read the first three)
Rated: very strong R
Disclaimer: Just borrowing them from Joss and Company- he owns 'em…I don't
Song: Blue Rodeo's "What Is This Love." Absolutely the best band on the planet…
Feedback: Sure. christie_mcdonal@hotmail.com
Damage
What is this love
That I leave behind
How can I turn
From the tears in your eyes
What is this world
Where we always pretend
That it is worth it
Worth it in the end
What is this life we share
That I just throw away
Is this love
That causes so much pain
What is the promise
That I leave behind
Why can't I
Just lie by you again
What's going on
How'd it get so wrong?
Damage
Angel watched Buffy. It was what he did best of all, watch her: up close, from the shadows, in his head. He could see her trying to make sense of his presence. Could almost read the thoughts as they passed through her clear, depthless eyes.
"Angel?"
The words had come out of his mouth before he'd really thought about the consequences. That's just it. We don't go back. We go forward. How was that possible? And he hadn't yet told her about Darla or the baby.
Angel leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to Buffy's forehead. He heard the air escape her lungs, a long, slow sigh and he felt his body stir instantly to life. There had been too little of this for them.
"Angel," Buffy started again. "Angel…I want…"
"I know, baby. Me too. Always." Angel smiled at her, this perfect creation laid out before him, a banquet, an offering.
"Even...even after…whatItoldyou?" the last of Buffy's words came out in a rush, as though she was afraid that the words themselves had the power to hurt her. But nothing would hurt her worse if Angel rejected her, if Angel was not able to forgive her.
Angel smiled. " I won't say that I like the idea of what happened much. That's a kind of pain I thought I'd never feel. I wanted you to go on, it's true. I wanted you to have a life that had some semblance of normalcy. I wanted you to be with someone who could give you all the things I couldn't…." Angel hesitated. He was about to say, "children," but under the circumstances he doubted even Buffy would miss the irony. "No question, I hate Spike," he stopped, looked into Buffy's eyes and said, softly, "but I could never hate you."
"That's okay, I hate me enough for both of us," Buffy said miserably, shifting under the weight of Angel's steady all-seeing gaze.
Lifting her chin with his long forefinger, Angel caught her eyes and whispered," Don't. If you want to hate someone, hate me. I was weak, although I've never been anything but. I walked away from you when I should've stayed and fought for you, for us. I thought it would be easier, to remove the temptation you presented to me, the desire to warm myself in your light, but I was a fool, Buffy. I was nothing but a damn fool. It didn't matter where I was, you were always with me, always in here," he moved the finger from her chin and pointed to his head. "And here," he indicated his chest. "How was I ever going to get you out from under my skin?" Angel's voice cracked. "I walked away from the only thing in my life that made me feel human, clean, redeemed somehow. You were it, Buffy. I didn't need an epiphany to tell me you were it."
"Angel," Buffy started, mesmerized by his confession.
"No, there's more, much more." Angel sat up and pulled her up to sit facing him.
"For a while, a long while, I was lost in a darkness so absolute, so complete I felt almost as though he was back. "You weren't the only one who tried to fill the darkness with something else, I did it too." Angel stopped, waiting for realization to dawn in Buffy. She nodded slowly, but said nothing. "Darla and I…"
"Wait a minute, Darla?" Buffy asked, puzzled. "You mean, Darla?"
"Long story, best saved for another day. Suffice to say, I went a little wacky and well…"
Buffy couldn't help it, the tears sprang to her eyes almost immediately when it suddenly occurred to her what Angel was trying to say.
"You slept with her?" she asked, incredulously.
"I fucked her. Nothing more, nothing less. I'm not proud of myself, Buffy, but at the time…"
Buffy closed her eyes at the image of Angel on top of Darla, moving into her, sinking his fangs into her flesh, hers into his, at the exact moment of orgasm.
"Buffy," Angel said firmly. "There's more."
Buffy wasn't sure she could bear more, but she also knew that to deny Angel his moment to come clean would put an insurmountable obstacle in their way. She swallowed, nodded and waited in silence.
"After it was over I told her to leave, that if I ever saw her again I would kill her. And that was that. Until I saw her again a few months later…very…pregnant."
"What?" Buffy squeaked. "What do you mean pregnant?"
"I mean she was pregnant. I know, "Angel shook his head thinking back to Darla's dissolving body and then, out of the ashes like a phoenix, his own son. "it's incredible. Unbelievable. A miracle."
"Oh my God," Buffy said.
"Just before you came yesterday she went into labour, Buffy. She wasn't doing well and neither was the baby and so Darla…Darla staked herself and, unbelievably…" tears suddenly filled Angel's dark eyes. "I have a son. A son, Buffy."
Buffy wasn't sure which moved her more: Angel's revelation that he was a father, or the tears which coursed down his beautiful face. A son. Buffy's heart convulsed. Angel's son. Not hers. Darla's.
"Oh my God," she said again.
"I don't know what it means. When you came yesterday, well, it had all only just happened and I reacted badly to your news about Spike. I'm sorry for that."
Buffy shook her head. "Sorry. You're telling me you're sorry?" It was all she could do to keep from breaking into hysterical laughter.
**
What is this dream
That I'll never find
What is this prayer
That's stealing my mind
What is this deal
That I've made with fate
And I wonder
If I've left it too late
What's goin' on
How'd it get so wrong?
Buffy swung her legs off the bed and went to stand by the window. She needed to step out from the blinding light of Angel's gaze. It was more intimate than any touch could ever be, always had been. Short moments later, Angel was behind her.
"Buffy," he said, a whisper in her ear. "Please look at me."
Buffy turned slowly. When she was facing him, Angel placed his hands gently on her shoulders and Buffy felt her knees buckle. The merest touch was enough to render her completely helpless. She'd been naïve enough to believe she could live without his touch had even told him that day in the sewer, right before the prom, that sex didn't matter, children didn't matter. He'd known the truth of it, though. So much older, so much wiser.
"This baby, for some reason, has made me believe that anything is possible. And, Cordelia, believe it or not weighed in on the whole situation with some pretty wise advice."
"Cordelia?" Buffy half-laughed.
"I know," Angel smiled. "Well, she's come a long way. The point is, if a vampire can have a baby…well, why can't I ...why can't I have you? What I came to realize after that whole Darla fiasco was that there wasn't any greater purpose to work toward; now, right now, that's all that counts. And if that's the case, if my reward is only in doing what's right at the moment than I have to assume that choosing you, choosing us is right, too. Otherwise why would I have been given the chance to know you at all. That day, on the steps of your school, when you walked into the light, God, Buffy, you blinded me. You- just you, before I knew a single thing about you, I loved you. And now, after everything, I love you even more. You're the other half of me, the better half and I can't walk away from you. I can't and I won't."
A sob tore, small and bleeding, from Buffy's throat. She felt her knees give way and, had it not been for Angel's strong arms, would have crumpled to the floor. But he caught her, held her, anchored her and when, nestled in the circle of his arms he finally kissed her, he completed her.
The kiss was possessive, consuming, fierce. Buffy didn't hesitate to kiss him back with equal passion; nearly swooned when he slipped his cool-hot tongue into her mouth. The sensation of having him so close nearly made her faint. This moment, this exact moment when he would kiss her just like this as if she belonged to him and only him, was the only thing that had kept her sane since the very second he'd walked out of her life after graduation. She wound his hair through her fingers, pulled him tighter against her and was rewarded with a guttural groan.
In an instant they were off the floor and she was on the bed. Angel stood beside her watching her, waiting.
"I…" she started.
"I know," Angel said, reading her thoughts.
Her silky drawstring pants came off first, then the tank top, leaving her naked and golden in the moonlight. He unbuttoned his shirt, letting it slip off his broad shoulders, exposing the wide expanse of his firmly muscled chest. His hands shook imperceptibly as he undid his belt, tugged down his fly and pulled his pants and boxers to the floor, pausing only long enough to slide off shoes and socks. Then: a moment of indecision, a second of fear, the unstated knowledge of the possibility of unspeakable consequences.
Buffy blinked and reached out her hand. Angel took it and she pulled him forward. He joined her on the bed, angled above her, his eyes hooded and unreadable.
"I want you to know, Angel, that I never meant to hurt you. I think I only ever really meant to hurt myself…."
"Shhh," Angel said, kissing her collarbone, the swell of her breast, the slope of ribcage and the jut of hipbone. The smell of her was intoxicating and Angel's cock felt painfully hard. He concentrated on Buffy, on the way her body responded to him even when he was barely touching her. He sensed that he could make her come without even touching her and the thought made him smile.
But there was time enough for that, Angel was certain. As he trailed a litany of kisses up the length of her glorious body, as he pulled her into an embrace that was both loving and possessive, as she buried her head into the slope between chin and shoulder, resting her small hand on his chest, Angel had only one thought: tomorrow would be time enough for repairing the damage. Tonight. Tonight was just this.
end
