DISCLAIMER: I own all. Unless I don't. In which case, I steal...er, borrow.
DEDICATION: To all B/A shippers out there. Keep the faith.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I am not defecting from Buffy/Angel. I just got bored and I think Amy Acker's just adorable as our beloved yet crazed physics master, Fred.
AUTHOR'S NOTE #2: Beware: Extensive advertising and plugging within, subtly hidden within the fluff.
UNDERSTANDING
The first time I looked into those big brown eyes, I never expected to attach myself emotionally. She was supposed to remain a victim who I had rescued, another life saved - that's what I did, after all. But what I saw in those chocolate orbs was more than just a slave without a name. I saw through that to the wilderness within, which caged a timidness brought from her past. Her heart untamed, her soul bound to the limits of her degradation.
"Handsome man...saved me from the monsters..."
Her voice swept around me, striking my very being to the core. I didn't know why her almost adolescent behavior appealed to me. I felt the need to protect her, shelter her from the harsh world that would oppress her. Things were so simple for her. She was a cow, monsters were bad, handsome man was good. I saw the undeniable glint of affection in her gaze towards me, the way her movements became so awkward when she was around me, and the way she tried to please me the best way she knew how.
When she saw me as a demon - not just some hybrid with an overhanging brow, a real being of unmistakable evil with grotesque features and the feral appetite to match - I thought I'd shattered her world, broken her view of me along with anyone else's. This was past Angelus, who simply had no remorse for anything he did. This was an animal. This was me.
When I returned, not just from Pylea, but from my soul-searching three months away from civilization, I had come to find that Fred hadn't moved from her room the entire time, living off the expenses of Angel Investigations through Taco Bell™, drowning away her fears in Sharpie™ ink and Texas Pete™ hot sauce. She had missed me.
She told me that she was waiting for it all to come together, waiting for that click in her head and the pieces to fall into place, and everything to be made right again. Ironically, it was the same thing I had been seeking. I managed to coerce her out of her domicile, but seeing as how I was in a battle for my life at the time, she decided it was best to retreat back into her shell. After two weeks of pleading, I managed to coax her out once more, promising her a bag of Gorditas™ if she'd simply go for an evening walk with me.
She came out, taking off her glasses and stuffing them into her pocket, as if I hadn't noticed she'd ever worn them. I played along, taking her trembling hand in mine. She smiled meekly up at me, a bundle of nervous giggles contained in that petite form. On the drive to the park, she regaled me with the finer aspects of particle acceleration and it's possible effects on her version of oatmeal. I gave a slight chuckle, not knowing if she was joking with me, but I decided that her mental state would grant much more farfetched anecdotes than that to kid me with.
I hid the convertible in a suitable place, covering it with a few branches of oak leaves. This was, after all, L.A. This time, she slipped her hand into mine, growing more comfortable with touching my slightly cooler skin. I was amazed at how smooth her skin was after five years in what Lorne would certainly declare "Home sweet hell." I caressed the back of her hand gently with my fingertips, taking joy in how much pleasure she received from the slight action. Her smile grew wider, her cheek nuzzling into my shoulder from time to time, a near-purr emitting from those glossed lips. Gloss? Cordelia. So that's why Fred's skin was so well...moisturized.
We strolled around to the lake, finding a newly built pier scaling out to the center of the body of water, where a gazebo stood. Her guard seemed to lower a bit, and she actually recommended we walk out there for a better view of the moon. I realized that she didn't see me as some ugly cretan who lusted after life's essential fluid, but as a man, perhaps even her man. I gave a slight smile in agreement, managing to keep a straight face as she took careful steps on the freshly sanded planks. After about ten minutes, we made it to the elaborately designed structure. She walked over to the edge of the gazebo, staring up at the moon in wonder.
"I never thought I'd see just one moon again. They have more than one of everything, y'know. Suns, moons, horns...nothing that serves any purpose. Now lenses, I could have used."
"Lenses?" I inquired, a bit intrigued.
"It's hard to see, even in the daytime, without lenses."
I sat down on a wooden bench beside her, my eyes never leaving her beautiful small form. Her brunette tresses swept down her back like fine silk, and I chastised myself for wanting to know if it was just as soft. Cordelia must have been using Herbal Essenses™ on her. She seemed so peaceful, so at ease in her recollection, as if not even painful memories could affect her, as long as she was in my presense.
"You mean, glasses...?"
She smiled widely again, her anxiety rising. I felt her heart race a bit as she looked down from the moon at me. "Yeah...don't have many of those in...in..."
"Pylea."
"Yeah."
Well, she was right. It's not like there was a LensCrafters™ nearby in every alternate dimension.
As she turned around to sit next to me, her body began to waver, and I suddenly realized why. She was wearing a pair of black pumps. Donna Karan™, perfect for accenting those gracefully sculpted curves of her calves. My mind snapped back to Fred, who faltered and fell in the water. Damn you, Cordy. I leapt to my feet, or rather off of them, and into the icy depths below. The lake was relatively deep, and any reflexes Fred had for swimming were pretty much on vacation. I collected her in my left arm tightly, her arms flying around my neck and clinging for dear life. I used my free arm to paddle to the gazebo, lifting her out of the water and placing her on the sanded surface before emerging myself.
Her breaths were sharp, her eyes wide in terror...until they fell upon me. Slowly she began to relax, her heartbeat slowing. She showed me the tiniest smile, obviously noting how the now-ruined silk shirt I was wearing was clinging to the curves of my chest. I tucked a drenched lock of hair behind her ear, my palm grazing her cheek in the process. Her eyes closed, her cheek nudging into my hand affectionately. I looked down bashfully, a bit of that old Irish farmboy coming out in me. Unfortunately, my eyes caught sight of her own curves protruding from her soaked-through clothes. She wasn't really all that bad. In fact, she was nice. Very nice.
I quickly looked back up at her to see if she noticed me noticing her, but her eyes were still closed. They opened eventually, but somehow I couldn't take my hand away. Her smile grew a bit bigger, no longer childlike in appearance, but that of an understanding woman. She leaned in before I could react, placing a soft but meaningful kiss upon my lips. She stayed that way, the kiss as innocent and tender as could be. No tongues entwined, no mouths opened. She simply kept her lips against mine until the need for air arose in her.
She backed off reluctantly, the smile still on her face. It felt good to see her smile so much. I heard her whisper the words "I love you, Angel" ever so lightly, perhaps trying to conceal her declaration. Her eyes turned to the water, and she stared at the shimmering ripples that were left in our wake, still smiling. I approached her swiftly before she could object, which she most likely wouldn't have anyway. I kissed her back. The same type of kiss as she had given me, no hint of lust in it, just everflowing affection. I didn't return her sentiment when I eased off. We both understood that it was entirely too soon for the both of us.
All was silent for a few precious moments as I watched her radiant face light up the flora around us, until I heard a soft rumbling.
"There's a rumbly in my tumbly," she said, looking down to her damp stomach.
"Hungry?"
"Mhmm. Muchly."
"Gorditas™?"
"Chalupas™."
I smiled warmly at her. "You've earned it."
----------
THE END
DEDICATION: To all B/A shippers out there. Keep the faith.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I am not defecting from Buffy/Angel. I just got bored and I think Amy Acker's just adorable as our beloved yet crazed physics master, Fred.
AUTHOR'S NOTE #2: Beware: Extensive advertising and plugging within, subtly hidden within the fluff.
UNDERSTANDING
The first time I looked into those big brown eyes, I never expected to attach myself emotionally. She was supposed to remain a victim who I had rescued, another life saved - that's what I did, after all. But what I saw in those chocolate orbs was more than just a slave without a name. I saw through that to the wilderness within, which caged a timidness brought from her past. Her heart untamed, her soul bound to the limits of her degradation.
"Handsome man...saved me from the monsters..."
Her voice swept around me, striking my very being to the core. I didn't know why her almost adolescent behavior appealed to me. I felt the need to protect her, shelter her from the harsh world that would oppress her. Things were so simple for her. She was a cow, monsters were bad, handsome man was good. I saw the undeniable glint of affection in her gaze towards me, the way her movements became so awkward when she was around me, and the way she tried to please me the best way she knew how.
When she saw me as a demon - not just some hybrid with an overhanging brow, a real being of unmistakable evil with grotesque features and the feral appetite to match - I thought I'd shattered her world, broken her view of me along with anyone else's. This was past Angelus, who simply had no remorse for anything he did. This was an animal. This was me.
When I returned, not just from Pylea, but from my soul-searching three months away from civilization, I had come to find that Fred hadn't moved from her room the entire time, living off the expenses of Angel Investigations through Taco Bell™, drowning away her fears in Sharpie™ ink and Texas Pete™ hot sauce. She had missed me.
She told me that she was waiting for it all to come together, waiting for that click in her head and the pieces to fall into place, and everything to be made right again. Ironically, it was the same thing I had been seeking. I managed to coerce her out of her domicile, but seeing as how I was in a battle for my life at the time, she decided it was best to retreat back into her shell. After two weeks of pleading, I managed to coax her out once more, promising her a bag of Gorditas™ if she'd simply go for an evening walk with me.
She came out, taking off her glasses and stuffing them into her pocket, as if I hadn't noticed she'd ever worn them. I played along, taking her trembling hand in mine. She smiled meekly up at me, a bundle of nervous giggles contained in that petite form. On the drive to the park, she regaled me with the finer aspects of particle acceleration and it's possible effects on her version of oatmeal. I gave a slight chuckle, not knowing if she was joking with me, but I decided that her mental state would grant much more farfetched anecdotes than that to kid me with.
I hid the convertible in a suitable place, covering it with a few branches of oak leaves. This was, after all, L.A. This time, she slipped her hand into mine, growing more comfortable with touching my slightly cooler skin. I was amazed at how smooth her skin was after five years in what Lorne would certainly declare "Home sweet hell." I caressed the back of her hand gently with my fingertips, taking joy in how much pleasure she received from the slight action. Her smile grew wider, her cheek nuzzling into my shoulder from time to time, a near-purr emitting from those glossed lips. Gloss? Cordelia. So that's why Fred's skin was so well...moisturized.
We strolled around to the lake, finding a newly built pier scaling out to the center of the body of water, where a gazebo stood. Her guard seemed to lower a bit, and she actually recommended we walk out there for a better view of the moon. I realized that she didn't see me as some ugly cretan who lusted after life's essential fluid, but as a man, perhaps even her man. I gave a slight smile in agreement, managing to keep a straight face as she took careful steps on the freshly sanded planks. After about ten minutes, we made it to the elaborately designed structure. She walked over to the edge of the gazebo, staring up at the moon in wonder.
"I never thought I'd see just one moon again. They have more than one of everything, y'know. Suns, moons, horns...nothing that serves any purpose. Now lenses, I could have used."
"Lenses?" I inquired, a bit intrigued.
"It's hard to see, even in the daytime, without lenses."
I sat down on a wooden bench beside her, my eyes never leaving her beautiful small form. Her brunette tresses swept down her back like fine silk, and I chastised myself for wanting to know if it was just as soft. Cordelia must have been using Herbal Essenses™ on her. She seemed so peaceful, so at ease in her recollection, as if not even painful memories could affect her, as long as she was in my presense.
"You mean, glasses...?"
She smiled widely again, her anxiety rising. I felt her heart race a bit as she looked down from the moon at me. "Yeah...don't have many of those in...in..."
"Pylea."
"Yeah."
Well, she was right. It's not like there was a LensCrafters™ nearby in every alternate dimension.
As she turned around to sit next to me, her body began to waver, and I suddenly realized why. She was wearing a pair of black pumps. Donna Karan™, perfect for accenting those gracefully sculpted curves of her calves. My mind snapped back to Fred, who faltered and fell in the water. Damn you, Cordy. I leapt to my feet, or rather off of them, and into the icy depths below. The lake was relatively deep, and any reflexes Fred had for swimming were pretty much on vacation. I collected her in my left arm tightly, her arms flying around my neck and clinging for dear life. I used my free arm to paddle to the gazebo, lifting her out of the water and placing her on the sanded surface before emerging myself.
Her breaths were sharp, her eyes wide in terror...until they fell upon me. Slowly she began to relax, her heartbeat slowing. She showed me the tiniest smile, obviously noting how the now-ruined silk shirt I was wearing was clinging to the curves of my chest. I tucked a drenched lock of hair behind her ear, my palm grazing her cheek in the process. Her eyes closed, her cheek nudging into my hand affectionately. I looked down bashfully, a bit of that old Irish farmboy coming out in me. Unfortunately, my eyes caught sight of her own curves protruding from her soaked-through clothes. She wasn't really all that bad. In fact, she was nice. Very nice.
I quickly looked back up at her to see if she noticed me noticing her, but her eyes were still closed. They opened eventually, but somehow I couldn't take my hand away. Her smile grew a bit bigger, no longer childlike in appearance, but that of an understanding woman. She leaned in before I could react, placing a soft but meaningful kiss upon my lips. She stayed that way, the kiss as innocent and tender as could be. No tongues entwined, no mouths opened. She simply kept her lips against mine until the need for air arose in her.
She backed off reluctantly, the smile still on her face. It felt good to see her smile so much. I heard her whisper the words "I love you, Angel" ever so lightly, perhaps trying to conceal her declaration. Her eyes turned to the water, and she stared at the shimmering ripples that were left in our wake, still smiling. I approached her swiftly before she could object, which she most likely wouldn't have anyway. I kissed her back. The same type of kiss as she had given me, no hint of lust in it, just everflowing affection. I didn't return her sentiment when I eased off. We both understood that it was entirely too soon for the both of us.
All was silent for a few precious moments as I watched her radiant face light up the flora around us, until I heard a soft rumbling.
"There's a rumbly in my tumbly," she said, looking down to her damp stomach.
"Hungry?"
"Mhmm. Muchly."
"Gorditas™?"
"Chalupas™."
I smiled warmly at her. "You've earned it."
----------
THE END
