TITLE: Only One Thing To Do
AUTHOR: Goddess Isa
EMAIL: goddessisa@aol.com
SUMMARY: Inspired by a scene in the horrendous excuse for a Buffy novel, Seven Crows, by John Vornholt, Buffy and Angel get it on. Just because they can.
RATING: TV-MA I keep it clean, it's more the idea of the action than the detail that I'm goin' for in this one
DISTRIBUTION: My site is a work in progress, email for info
DISCLAIMER: Joss Owns. Not me. Blech. The song belongs to the stupidhead, idiotic Britney Spears
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I haven't written Buffy in so long, I wasn't sure at first that I would remember how. But it all came together fairly well, I think, and I hope you all think so, too.
AUTHOR'S NOTES 2: Please read the book and stop somewhere on page 199, that's where this takes off from
2/22/04
"It's late," Angel said as they entered the hotel room.
"Yeah. I'm beat." Buffy set her bag on the floor and glanced around the room. One dresser, one nightstand, one crappy lamp, one TV that probably only got the local channels and Pay-Per-View porn, one couch, one chair and one bed.
One very small, just-the-right-size-for-cuddling-or-screwing bed.
Buffy wasn't sure if she gulped or if she was just imagining it, but either way she said, "Well. There was only one room, and there's only one bed. Only one thing to do."
"Right. I'll sleep on the floor."
"No, you won't."
"Okay, the couch, but it doesn't look big enough. Or," he walked closer and eyed it but didn't dare touch it. "Clean enough for me to sleep on."
"It's not clean enough for a rat and you're not sleeping on the couch. You'll share the bed with me."
"Buffy."
"What?" she gave him her favorite innocent look. He knew it well enough to know that it was anything but and she enjoyed the frustrated look he gave her in return.
"You know what. We can't."
"Can't what?" she kept up with the Britney Spears act.
"Can't act like we're....close....again."
"Aren't we? We're fighting again, side-by-side, saving the world or watching it parish, that whole thing, right? I think that grants us the right to spend one night snoring together in the same bed."
Angel looked out the window and Buffy smiled. She had won.
"I'm just gonna go change," she picked up her bag and went into the bathroom, closing the door and stomping on a roach as it crossed her path.
"Gross," she muttered. She spread out a towel on the counter and began setting her clothes on it. She brushed her teeth, washed her face and applied the strawberry lip gloss Angel always liked. She pulled the ponytail holder out of her hair and, since there wasn't enough room to bend over and brush out her hair without danger of it touching something covered in mildew, she combed her fingers through it, trying to achieve what Cosmo used to call "Take me to bed" hair.
Buffy replaced her bra with a pale pink tank top with the Powerpuff Girls all over it (a gag gift from Xander) and her track pants with her pink plaid boxers. No way was she putting PJ pants on and risking them bumping the roach guts on the ground.
Expecting to still see Angel staring out the window, Buffy opened the bathroom door and found him on the bed, the covers completely pulled back on the empty side. The TV was on and he was pretending to be very interested in the rerun of That 70s Show that was airing with Spanish subtitles. His eyes flittered to her barely-dressed figure for a second, then he looked back at the TV. She admired his attempt at strength but knew she'd get the better of him.
Setting her bag on the nightstand this time to try and avoid any future roach visitors, she kicked her tennis shoes off and got on the bed beside him. "Angel, get under the covers, it's freezing."
"Then why are you wearing a sleeveless shirt?"
"I can't sleep in sleeves," she lied. "Too confining. Come on, you'll get hypothermia."
"I can't get hypothermia, I'm..."
"Dead?" she guessed. "Been there, done that. Just do it please. Otherwise, your weight will keep me from moving around all night and I'll wake up kicking you."
Angel gave in and as he scooted underneath the blankets, he leaned close enough to her to smell the lip gloss. He remembered how he used to love to kiss it off of her, how she would put it on and let him chase her all around the mansion until he caught her, pressed her up against a wall and kissed her till her lips were numb and her pulse racing. Then they would have to stop, suppress all the urges they were feeling, and either go to sleep or go patrolling. Neither was a very good substitute for a cold shower.
"You okay?" Buffy asked him. "You look thinky."
"Just thinking about everything, Crows and all," he lied. "Good night." he reached over and turned out the light, and Buffy figured she'd try what they always did in cheap motels in the movies.
She clapped her hands twice.
It worked. The lights came back on.
"Angel......my shoulders are so sore from earlier," Buffy sat up and pushed the covers off her shoulders, baring her tan skin for him. "Could you give me a massage?"
"Buffy?"
"Please? I don't have any aspirin and I need to be able to sleep."
"All right." he put his hands in all too familiar places on her skin and carefully caressed her, not wanting to hurt her almost as much as he was afraid to touch her too closely. He didn't wanna cross the line and not be able to stop.
He didn't trust himself to be able to stop.
So much had happened. Life, death, everything in between. He didn't know where they stood anymore now than he did after Joyce died. Their night together had been earth-shaking, and it hadn't turned him into Angelus. He couldn't figure it out. He didn't know if he wanted to.
"God that feels good," Buffy leaned into his touch, pressing herself against him. Angel backed away from her a bit, and Buffy readjusted her body, scooting closer than she was before. Angel pulled away again and ran out of space on the mattress. He sailed onto the floor, head first.
"OhmiGod, Angel are you okay?" Buffy leaned over the side of the bed and helped him up.
"I'm fine, I'm fine. I just have a headache the size of Alaska now."
"I thought the saying was 'a headache the size of Texas', not Alaska."
"It is, but Alaska's bigger and it really hurts."
"Now who needs the aspirin?" Buffy asked. "I could try some acupressure."
"No, I'm fine, I just—" but Buffy wouldn't take no for an answer. She helped him onto his back, put a few pillows under his neck, and picked up one of his hands. Slowly, she began running her fingers over his knuckles, lightly pressing and pulling his skin.
"How is that gonna help my head?" he asked, slightly annoyed, very aroused.
"Just relax and close your eyes. Acupressure is all about relaxation and escaping the pain."
"I thought it was about desensitizing the nerve endings or something," Angel said.
"No, that's something else entirely. Now shhh!"
Angel hushed. He knew this was dangerous ground that he shouldn't be walking but he let himself relax under her touch. Let himself imagine her lips on his, her breasts pressing against his chest, her legs straddling his hips.
"God, I love you so much," she mumbled in between kisses on his chest. "I need you so bad."
That was when Angel realized that his daydream had become a reality. He opened his eyes and saw Buffy straddling his hips, her fingers working quickly to unbutton his pants while her lips suckled at one of his nipples.
"Buffy, we ca—"
"Shhhhhh," she brought her mouth up to his and bit his bottom lip lightly. "Don't deny me this. Please."
He kissed her furiously, his hands flying to her hips to guide her as their bodies finally connected. Buffy moaned and groaned against his mouth, sliding her hands up to his shoulders for leverage.
When it was all over, when she'd been pushed to the edge too many times to count and when she was pretty sure she'd gotten her fill, Buffy fell asleep on Angel's chest, her fingers entwined with his. Angel stroked her hair with his free hand, wondering what would happen in the morning, if he would change or if somehow, miraculously, they would be safe again.
He knew that Buffy could protect herself against Angelus, and that scared him a little more than he wanted to admit. Dying at her hands wasn't pleasant, and he really didn't wanna do it again.
The phone rang, and Angel reached over to grab it before the second ring could wake his sleeping lover. "What?"
"Riley's got something to show you," Samantha said.
"Tomorrow." Angel hung up and cursed. Sometimes he hated Riley, hated him for sucking Buffy into his pathetic lifestyle, for changing her and her belief system, even for what they did to Spike.
He hated that he worried there was a part of Buffy that still had some sort of feelings for the moron.
More than anything, he hated that eventually, Buffy would wake up. And they'd have to get out of bed, get dressed and find their way back into the battle. Even if they survived, he was sure they wouldn't find their way back to each other again.
He was too scared and she was too proud to ever let them be anything more than a couple of friends who fight together and fuck now and then. It was like on Sex and The City. He'd seen enough of it when Cordelia watched it to know what those women did.
Yet he almost couldn't picture himself and Buffy like that. Weren't they too real for that? Weren't they too in love?
The phone rang again and Angel pushed it off the hook. It was Riley, he was sure, and that was just another reminder that his love for Buffy and hers for him would never be enough for either one of them to get past everything and try again. They were both too stubborn.
Anything they shared now was made up of interactions between two shadows of their former selves. The Buffy and Angel who fell in love and saved the world died on the day of the Ascension, and nothing was ever going to bring them back.
// Your
body's warm but you are not
You give a little not a lot
It could be love until we kiss
You're all I want but not like this
I'm watching you disappear
But you, you were never here
It's only your shadow
Never yourself
It's only your shadow
Nobody else
It's only your shadow
Filling the room
Arriving too late
And leaving too soon
And leaving too soon
Your body gives but then holds back
The sun is bright
The sky is black
Can only be another sign
I cannot keep what isn't mine
You laughter, it lingers on
But you, you were almost gone
It's only your shadow
Never yourself
It's only your shadow
Nobody else
It's only your shadow
Filling the room
Arriving too late
And leaving too soon
And leaving too soon
How can I tell if you mean what you say
You say it so loud but you sound far away
Maybe I had just glimpse of your soul
Or was that your shadow I saw on the wall
I'm watching you disappear
But you, you were never here
It's only your shadow
Never yourself
It's only your shadow
Nobody else
It's only your shadow
Filling the room
Arriving too late
And leaving too soon
And leaving too soon
It's only your shadow\\