DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Hence the widespread popularity.
DEDICATION: Molly, the girl with whom I've shared many a B/A smut/fluff session with (how I miss those days) and will do so again if I can ever get my home computer back online.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm returning from a hiatus on which I was a music writing/playing/recording fool, and my band's first performance is scheduled around April or May. And seeing as how John's bass and bass amp were pawned by his dad to buy Jimmy a better set of drums ($500 - cymbals not included), I have plenty of time before we get anything done harmonically. Hence this, my return piece.
AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: I have missed every episode of Buffy since the first, (long story involving a faulty antenna) and no one's bothered to fill me in. So screw all timelines and episodes. This is just Buffy/Angel fluff, the way it's always been meant to be. My version of the first episode. Lyrics are by Metallica. The song is "The Unforgiven II." Available on the ReLoad album.
LAY BESIDE ME
Willow Rosenberg wept into her pillow, her pained whimpers the only hint to the suffering within. Her attempt to use magick to resurrect her best friend had failed, and now Sunnydale was likely to fall into the depths of Hell itself. The mystical urn she was planning to use to bring Buffy Summers back had been stolen from her connection, and no one had been able to console her since she found out. Her last hope of seeing Buffy again had been dashed, shattered into millions of irreparable pieces.
Or so she thought.
-----
/ / / Lay beside me, tell me what they've done
Speak the words I wanna hear to make my demons run
The door is locked now, but it's open if you're true
If you can understand me, then I can understand you / / /
The resonance of steady footfalls rang loud and clear through the old mansion on Crawford Street, the black-booted owner of the sounds muffling them to silence as he made his way to a particular room. He extended a hand to the door, gently pushing the wood away. The door creaked on it's journey on rusted hinges as it opened, the candlelight from within flickering across a small sleeping form lying on a nearby bed. The light danced across the face of the slumbering girl's nocturnal visitor as he stepped quietly over to her bedside, reaching a hand out to delicately stroke the blonde locks that he had previously been denied access to.
The girl felt his presence, his touch...welcomed it...responded to it. She turned, half-aware of her surroundings, hazel eyes partially opening with warmth and affection towards the man caressing every sore cell of her being.
"Angel...?"
Buffy smiled slightly as she nudged her cheek into the palm of his hand, and he couldn't help but smile slightly himself. He leaned down and kissed her gently on her forehead. "Ssh...you need your rest."
Buffy nearly purred at his kiss, not at all minding his below-average temperature, too involved in the celestial bliss that was kept alive by Angel's close proximity to her. "This is Heaven..." she said simply, closing her eyes.
Angel's smile didn't falter as he took her hand in his, holding it tightly. As long as he did that, she couldn't leave him again. "Close enough."
/ / / Lay beside me, under wicked sky
Through black of day, dark of night, we share this paralyze
The door cracks open, but there's no sun shining through
Black hearts scarring darker still
But there's no sun shining through
No, there's no sun shining through
No, there's no sun shining... / / /
-----
Willow, now too exhausted to continue crying, wiped the remnants of tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. She was about to fall back onto her bed and sleep when a knock came upon her door. Fatigue slowed her response as she stood, shuffling her feet towards her door. When she opened it, she saw Tara and Xander, both with fear and worry on their expressions.
"What is it?" Willow asked, her grief evident in her voice.
"Will, I don't know how to tell you this," Xander started, looking to Tara for support, "but Buffy's body is gone."
"What?" Willow's eyes widened, her fatigue pushed immediately to her emotional backburner.
"Someone dug the casket up," Tara replied, "and...and...it's just gone."
Willow cast her eyes down in shock. Xander looked down, regretting having to burden his friend further. "There's more. There's been some activity down at the mansion. Lights and such."
Willow raised her eyes back to Xander. "Mansion?"
"You know, the one on Crawford Street."
The hopelessness in Willow's eyes gave way to joy as she heard those words and realized what they meant, but neither Tara nor Xander saw. "What kind of sick demon would dig up a body?" Xander went on, rage beginning to flare in his eyes. "Some vile disgusting thing is going to be decapitated tonight."
"You guys have the attention span of an eggplant." Willow said, taking off into a brisk run down the hall as Xander and Tara stared after her in awe.
"I happen to think eggplants and other oddly named vegetables are very attentive." Xander quipped.
"We'd better go after her." Tara stated, starting off after Willow.
-----
/ / / What I've felt, what I've known
Turn the pages, turn the stone
Behind the door, should I open it for you? / / /
Buffy's eyes slowly opened after what seemed to be an eternity of sleep. She glanced around the room, gradually gaining her bearings, and, after feeling the taut muscle of Angel's arm draw her closer to his body, she realized where she was - and why she was there.
A part of her wanted to be angry at him. She had gone on to a better place, and he singlehandedly undermined her sacrifice for her sister. He took her from the only true happiness she had ever known.
No, he didn't.
The truest happiness she had ever been subjected to she was experiencing again. To be in his arms was the sweetest thing she had ever known. No one else could fathom the joy that swelled in her heart at his touch. And, had she been in his place, she knew deep down she would have done the same thing. She would have fought and scraped and clawed through Hell itself to bring him back, to be able to touch him again. She was well aware of the curse that denied her what she felt in her heart, her soul, her blood to be right.
/ / / What I've felt, what I've known
Sick and tired, I stand alone
Could you be there?
'Cause I'm the one who waits for you
Or are you unforgiven too? / / /
But she was too tired to refuse his touch. Tired of all the pain and death and blood...and time. God, the time. It had been so long since they had been able to touch one another, especially in affection. But in Heaven, in the celestial mists of unadulterated ecstasy, she had that. She could have been revived to a cold, dark, and more agonizing Hell (or Sunnydale, as the locals called it) than she had left it. But when she closed her eyes in Heaven, the last thing she saw was his face. An illusion, a vision supplied to her to make her forget the torment and heartache. And when she reopened her eyes on Earth once more, the first thing she saw was his face. His handsome face - those slightly unruly gelled brown spikes of hair, those faintly pale but perfectly sculpted features, those sweet lips that had delighted her with their coolness once upon a time, those exquisitely soft chocolate brown eyes that held nothing but the utmost devotion for her whenever they looked her way - it was his. And it was real. And, in her opinion, a much superior and more preferred account of Paradise.
/ / / Come lay beside me
This won't hurt, I swear
She loves me not, she loves me still
But she'll never love again / / /
She didn't know what he sacrificed doing what he did, returning to her, raising her from the dead. She didn't know what he told his own version of the Scoobies in Los Angeles, or what awaited them in the future. She was simply too weary to reflect and assume and ponder consequences. She needed to be held, to rest in the comforting arms of her lover, to be soothed by her skin grazing against his like she'd yearned for it to for such a very long time. She had just that. Sure, any contact below the belt was off limits. But it wasn't as if that was the first thing on her mind after climbing out of a coffin following her three (deceased) months inside and having her eyes fall upon an emotionally drained Angel, his bare chest damp with exertion, dirt soiling him and clinging tightly in patches all over his body as a result of the hard labor of exhuming her (after all, it wasn't as if she was going to dig her way out of the coffin and six feet of earth - Angel would never let her go through that traumatic experience). Even after seeing his thoroughly exhausted body covered in deep gashes from the ritual, the blood mixing with perspiration all over his arms, chest, and back, that sacrifice meant more to her than he would ever know. Making love to him was definitely among the top five things on her mind, but even a Slayer needs time to recuperate.
/ / / She lays beside me
But she'll be there when I'm gone
Black hearts scarring darker still
But she'll be there when I'm gone
Yeah, she'll be there when I'm gone
Dead sure she'll be there... / / /
Angel smiled slightly as he felt Buffy's small hands, filled with renewed warmth, slide over his and grasp them. She knew he was there, and there was exactly where he wanted to be. He didn't know where he was going to be tomorrow; he was honestly confused about whether to stay or return to Los Angeles, but if Buffy asked him to, he'd stay. She asked him to stay the last time he had come, and to this day he had regretted walking away.
/ / / Lay beside me, tell me what I've done
The door is closed, so are your eyes
But now I see the sun
Now I see the sun...yes, now I see it... / / /
Every time he took steps in the opposite direction, he thought it all for the best. But now that he had almost lost her for good, and somehow had her in his arms again, it felt right to be near her.
Meant to be.
Destiny.
He was seriously debating on returning to Angel Investigations, and he was leaning a great deal on staying with Buffy.
/ / / What I've felt, what I've known
So sick and tired, I stand alone
Could you be there? 'Cause I'm the one who waits,
The one who waits for you... / / /
-----
Xander hugged himself, rubbing his arms rapidly to keep warm as he stood behind Willow and Tara, who were both busy peeking into a nearby window to see the grand spectacle of a reunited Buffy and Angel. "Couldn't have given me the time to grab a jacket, could you?" he said, trying to peer between their heads for a better view. "So, Deadboy swiped the urn of Osiris?"
"Obviously." Willow replied with a smile, not diverting her gaze from the resting couple.
"What a sneaky underhanded scheming devious shifty conniving thing to do!" Xander exclaimed quietly, partially due to a look given to him by Tara. He smiled. "I'll have to thank him for it one day. Just...don't tell him I said that."
"You want to go in and say hi when they wake up?" Tara asked, glancing at Willow.
"Nah," Willow said, "they've earned a little together time. Besides, we don't want to berate a newly resurrected girl with questions about the afterlife and the meaning of life and general life inquiries. There's time enough for reuniting."
"So we're definitely going to watch for a few more hours." Tara said, smirking.
"Of course!" Willow beamed, looking back through the window as Buffy turned to face Angel and snuggled further into his chest. "They're so adorable."
-----
The conversation outside failed to reach either Buffy's or Angel's ears, and the silence inside was broken only by the gentle cadence of her breathing, a sound Angel cherished more each time he heard it. He felt his own need to disrupt the quiet, but he did so in a gentle manner so as not to wake the sleeping Slayer.
"I love you." Angel said softly.
Buffy smiled, placing the lightest of kisses on the broad expanse of his chest that her head rested on, mustering up all the strength she could to say only three words. Although speaking those syllables would weaken her further, she felt the need to express her feelings. It had to be said, it was more than worth added depletion of her energy.
"I love you." Buffy said feebly, happiness cracking through the fatigue in her voice.
/ / / What I've felt...oh, what I've known...
I take this key, and I bury it in you
Because you're unforgiven too... / / /
Angel kissed the top of Buffy's head softly as he heard her, his own eyes closing as he attempted to drift off with his dearest. Her voice called out to him softly before he could fade into sleep. "Angel..."
"I'm right here." Angel assured her, kissing her forehead affectionately.
"Good. Stay."
Buffy said those two words with a delicate smile, the last of her strength expelled as she fell into the appealing sensation of slumbering in Angel's arms. Angel was quiet for a moment, making sure she had fallen asleep before stating simply, "Okay."
/ / / Because you're unforgiven...too... / / /
-----
DEDICATION: Molly, the girl with whom I've shared many a B/A smut/fluff session with (how I miss those days) and will do so again if I can ever get my home computer back online.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm returning from a hiatus on which I was a music writing/playing/recording fool, and my band's first performance is scheduled around April or May. And seeing as how John's bass and bass amp were pawned by his dad to buy Jimmy a better set of drums ($500 - cymbals not included), I have plenty of time before we get anything done harmonically. Hence this, my return piece.
AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: I have missed every episode of Buffy since the first, (long story involving a faulty antenna) and no one's bothered to fill me in. So screw all timelines and episodes. This is just Buffy/Angel fluff, the way it's always been meant to be. My version of the first episode. Lyrics are by Metallica. The song is "The Unforgiven II." Available on the ReLoad album.
LAY BESIDE ME
Willow Rosenberg wept into her pillow, her pained whimpers the only hint to the suffering within. Her attempt to use magick to resurrect her best friend had failed, and now Sunnydale was likely to fall into the depths of Hell itself. The mystical urn she was planning to use to bring Buffy Summers back had been stolen from her connection, and no one had been able to console her since she found out. Her last hope of seeing Buffy again had been dashed, shattered into millions of irreparable pieces.
Or so she thought.
-----
/ / / Lay beside me, tell me what they've done
Speak the words I wanna hear to make my demons run
The door is locked now, but it's open if you're true
If you can understand me, then I can understand you / / /
The resonance of steady footfalls rang loud and clear through the old mansion on Crawford Street, the black-booted owner of the sounds muffling them to silence as he made his way to a particular room. He extended a hand to the door, gently pushing the wood away. The door creaked on it's journey on rusted hinges as it opened, the candlelight from within flickering across a small sleeping form lying on a nearby bed. The light danced across the face of the slumbering girl's nocturnal visitor as he stepped quietly over to her bedside, reaching a hand out to delicately stroke the blonde locks that he had previously been denied access to.
The girl felt his presence, his touch...welcomed it...responded to it. She turned, half-aware of her surroundings, hazel eyes partially opening with warmth and affection towards the man caressing every sore cell of her being.
"Angel...?"
Buffy smiled slightly as she nudged her cheek into the palm of his hand, and he couldn't help but smile slightly himself. He leaned down and kissed her gently on her forehead. "Ssh...you need your rest."
Buffy nearly purred at his kiss, not at all minding his below-average temperature, too involved in the celestial bliss that was kept alive by Angel's close proximity to her. "This is Heaven..." she said simply, closing her eyes.
Angel's smile didn't falter as he took her hand in his, holding it tightly. As long as he did that, she couldn't leave him again. "Close enough."
/ / / Lay beside me, under wicked sky
Through black of day, dark of night, we share this paralyze
The door cracks open, but there's no sun shining through
Black hearts scarring darker still
But there's no sun shining through
No, there's no sun shining through
No, there's no sun shining... / / /
-----
Willow, now too exhausted to continue crying, wiped the remnants of tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. She was about to fall back onto her bed and sleep when a knock came upon her door. Fatigue slowed her response as she stood, shuffling her feet towards her door. When she opened it, she saw Tara and Xander, both with fear and worry on their expressions.
"What is it?" Willow asked, her grief evident in her voice.
"Will, I don't know how to tell you this," Xander started, looking to Tara for support, "but Buffy's body is gone."
"What?" Willow's eyes widened, her fatigue pushed immediately to her emotional backburner.
"Someone dug the casket up," Tara replied, "and...and...it's just gone."
Willow cast her eyes down in shock. Xander looked down, regretting having to burden his friend further. "There's more. There's been some activity down at the mansion. Lights and such."
Willow raised her eyes back to Xander. "Mansion?"
"You know, the one on Crawford Street."
The hopelessness in Willow's eyes gave way to joy as she heard those words and realized what they meant, but neither Tara nor Xander saw. "What kind of sick demon would dig up a body?" Xander went on, rage beginning to flare in his eyes. "Some vile disgusting thing is going to be decapitated tonight."
"You guys have the attention span of an eggplant." Willow said, taking off into a brisk run down the hall as Xander and Tara stared after her in awe.
"I happen to think eggplants and other oddly named vegetables are very attentive." Xander quipped.
"We'd better go after her." Tara stated, starting off after Willow.
-----
/ / / What I've felt, what I've known
Turn the pages, turn the stone
Behind the door, should I open it for you? / / /
Buffy's eyes slowly opened after what seemed to be an eternity of sleep. She glanced around the room, gradually gaining her bearings, and, after feeling the taut muscle of Angel's arm draw her closer to his body, she realized where she was - and why she was there.
A part of her wanted to be angry at him. She had gone on to a better place, and he singlehandedly undermined her sacrifice for her sister. He took her from the only true happiness she had ever known.
No, he didn't.
The truest happiness she had ever been subjected to she was experiencing again. To be in his arms was the sweetest thing she had ever known. No one else could fathom the joy that swelled in her heart at his touch. And, had she been in his place, she knew deep down she would have done the same thing. She would have fought and scraped and clawed through Hell itself to bring him back, to be able to touch him again. She was well aware of the curse that denied her what she felt in her heart, her soul, her blood to be right.
/ / / What I've felt, what I've known
Sick and tired, I stand alone
Could you be there?
'Cause I'm the one who waits for you
Or are you unforgiven too? / / /
But she was too tired to refuse his touch. Tired of all the pain and death and blood...and time. God, the time. It had been so long since they had been able to touch one another, especially in affection. But in Heaven, in the celestial mists of unadulterated ecstasy, she had that. She could have been revived to a cold, dark, and more agonizing Hell (or Sunnydale, as the locals called it) than she had left it. But when she closed her eyes in Heaven, the last thing she saw was his face. An illusion, a vision supplied to her to make her forget the torment and heartache. And when she reopened her eyes on Earth once more, the first thing she saw was his face. His handsome face - those slightly unruly gelled brown spikes of hair, those faintly pale but perfectly sculpted features, those sweet lips that had delighted her with their coolness once upon a time, those exquisitely soft chocolate brown eyes that held nothing but the utmost devotion for her whenever they looked her way - it was his. And it was real. And, in her opinion, a much superior and more preferred account of Paradise.
/ / / Come lay beside me
This won't hurt, I swear
She loves me not, she loves me still
But she'll never love again / / /
She didn't know what he sacrificed doing what he did, returning to her, raising her from the dead. She didn't know what he told his own version of the Scoobies in Los Angeles, or what awaited them in the future. She was simply too weary to reflect and assume and ponder consequences. She needed to be held, to rest in the comforting arms of her lover, to be soothed by her skin grazing against his like she'd yearned for it to for such a very long time. She had just that. Sure, any contact below the belt was off limits. But it wasn't as if that was the first thing on her mind after climbing out of a coffin following her three (deceased) months inside and having her eyes fall upon an emotionally drained Angel, his bare chest damp with exertion, dirt soiling him and clinging tightly in patches all over his body as a result of the hard labor of exhuming her (after all, it wasn't as if she was going to dig her way out of the coffin and six feet of earth - Angel would never let her go through that traumatic experience). Even after seeing his thoroughly exhausted body covered in deep gashes from the ritual, the blood mixing with perspiration all over his arms, chest, and back, that sacrifice meant more to her than he would ever know. Making love to him was definitely among the top five things on her mind, but even a Slayer needs time to recuperate.
/ / / She lays beside me
But she'll be there when I'm gone
Black hearts scarring darker still
But she'll be there when I'm gone
Yeah, she'll be there when I'm gone
Dead sure she'll be there... / / /
Angel smiled slightly as he felt Buffy's small hands, filled with renewed warmth, slide over his and grasp them. She knew he was there, and there was exactly where he wanted to be. He didn't know where he was going to be tomorrow; he was honestly confused about whether to stay or return to Los Angeles, but if Buffy asked him to, he'd stay. She asked him to stay the last time he had come, and to this day he had regretted walking away.
/ / / Lay beside me, tell me what I've done
The door is closed, so are your eyes
But now I see the sun
Now I see the sun...yes, now I see it... / / /
Every time he took steps in the opposite direction, he thought it all for the best. But now that he had almost lost her for good, and somehow had her in his arms again, it felt right to be near her.
Meant to be.
Destiny.
He was seriously debating on returning to Angel Investigations, and he was leaning a great deal on staying with Buffy.
/ / / What I've felt, what I've known
So sick and tired, I stand alone
Could you be there? 'Cause I'm the one who waits,
The one who waits for you... / / /
-----
Xander hugged himself, rubbing his arms rapidly to keep warm as he stood behind Willow and Tara, who were both busy peeking into a nearby window to see the grand spectacle of a reunited Buffy and Angel. "Couldn't have given me the time to grab a jacket, could you?" he said, trying to peer between their heads for a better view. "So, Deadboy swiped the urn of Osiris?"
"Obviously." Willow replied with a smile, not diverting her gaze from the resting couple.
"What a sneaky underhanded scheming devious shifty conniving thing to do!" Xander exclaimed quietly, partially due to a look given to him by Tara. He smiled. "I'll have to thank him for it one day. Just...don't tell him I said that."
"You want to go in and say hi when they wake up?" Tara asked, glancing at Willow.
"Nah," Willow said, "they've earned a little together time. Besides, we don't want to berate a newly resurrected girl with questions about the afterlife and the meaning of life and general life inquiries. There's time enough for reuniting."
"So we're definitely going to watch for a few more hours." Tara said, smirking.
"Of course!" Willow beamed, looking back through the window as Buffy turned to face Angel and snuggled further into his chest. "They're so adorable."
-----
The conversation outside failed to reach either Buffy's or Angel's ears, and the silence inside was broken only by the gentle cadence of her breathing, a sound Angel cherished more each time he heard it. He felt his own need to disrupt the quiet, but he did so in a gentle manner so as not to wake the sleeping Slayer.
"I love you." Angel said softly.
Buffy smiled, placing the lightest of kisses on the broad expanse of his chest that her head rested on, mustering up all the strength she could to say only three words. Although speaking those syllables would weaken her further, she felt the need to express her feelings. It had to be said, it was more than worth added depletion of her energy.
"I love you." Buffy said feebly, happiness cracking through the fatigue in her voice.
/ / / What I've felt...oh, what I've known...
I take this key, and I bury it in you
Because you're unforgiven too... / / /
Angel kissed the top of Buffy's head softly as he heard her, his own eyes closing as he attempted to drift off with his dearest. Her voice called out to him softly before he could fade into sleep. "Angel..."
"I'm right here." Angel assured her, kissing her forehead affectionately.
"Good. Stay."
Buffy said those two words with a delicate smile, the last of her strength expelled as she fell into the appealing sensation of slumbering in Angel's arms. Angel was quiet for a moment, making sure she had fallen asleep before stating simply, "Okay."
/ / / Because you're unforgiven...too... / / /
-----