Until You Don't Want To
by
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns them, not me. Though I wouldn't exactly complain if I did... Oh, and the quote from the Savage Garden song 'Hold Me' is also not mine.
Author's Note: Takes place anytime during the middle to late-third season.
Buffy watched as Angel strode briskly from her front porch, the dark figure disappearing into the dark quickly. He never looked back.
She ached to call to him. Come back, Angel! Come back to me! But she knew she couldn't. Because if she allowed their make-out session to continue, it would be all too easy to wake up with Angelus on her hands again.
Sometimes, she wondered if it was worth it, what little she and Angel had left of their tattered relationship. They used to be closer than close, spilling everything to each other. Now, there were walls.
She realized that she didn't even know where to find him, should she want to go after him. The mansion, sure, but half the time, he wasn't there. Where did the elusive dark-haired vampire disappear to? It hurt to realize that she was no longer the center of Angel's world.
Sometimes, she ached for his arms around her, holding her tight, making her feel as though all was right in the world once more. Occasionally, Angel would make a late-night appearance in her window, and she would get her craved-for cuddle time. But more often than not, she had to settle for an empty bed and her memories.
There was bitterness in their relationship, now. It wasn't Angel's fault, it certainly came from both sides. It just couldn't be helped. They were both passionate people, fiery and impulsive, though Angel didn't appear that way on first glance, and the sexual tension was driving them crazy.
Buffy didn't believe it was impossible for two people to have a relationship, even a life together without sex. In fact, she believed the opposite, that sex and love were two completely separate entities. But always knowing that they could never go any further than the light petting they allowed themselves was frustrating beyond belief for the young blond Slayer.
Initially, she hadn't believed it would be that hard. After all, her feelings for Angel had been just as deep before she slept with him as they were now. But it had quickly turned out that waiting for the right time and not having sex because they couldn't were two very different issues.
Our love is worth so much more than the physical, Buffy reminded herself. It was soul-deep love, the kind that binds entities together, and creates the kind of bond that marriage symbolizes. But for them, it might be a sad story. Because if this didn't stop, one or the other of them would do something about it.
And Buffy had a sinking feeling it might have to be her, if she decided the relationship should be broken off. Angel would do whatever he believed was best, but the three-hundred and forty-some-odd year old demon had about five times more patience than Buffy did.
'I've never been the praying kind; But lately I've been down upon my knees; Not looking for a miracle; Just a reason to believe.' The line from a Savage Garden song, called, Buffy recalled, 'Hold Me', popped into her head as she sat on the porch, lost in deep thought.
Appropriate, she decided. She wasn't exactly religious, knowing what she did about the world, she knew there were gods, but nothing out there was exactly up to the caliber of the God worshipped in many religions. But lately, Buffy had found herself talking more and more to nameless spirits, praying for herself and Angel.
Standing from the porch swing, Buffy dropped to her knees. It can't hurt, right? She thought.
Clasping her hands together in front of her, she stared up into the clear, starry sky. Please God, if you're up there, help me make things right for Angel. I love him, and I don't want him to suffer.
She waited a long moment, not getting the answer she really hadn't expected. But later on she realized that she actually got one, in the form of a dark being walking up the sidewalk, towards her house.
Buffy rose hurriedly from her position, and waited for her boyfriend. "Angel," She greeted him.
He nodded. "Hey, Buffy." Then, he inclined his head towards the door, looking from her to the open doorway. "Just about to go inside?" He inquired.
She looked at the open hole in the house which she had forgotten about. "Yeah."
Angel started to turn to leave. "Okay. I won't keep you, I know you need to get some sleep for school."
Buffy put a hand on his arm before he could walk away, and looked up into his eyes. "Wait."
Angel turned back towards her, waiting for her to continue.
"Stay? I don't think I can sleep alone tonight. You can use the window, and leave before sunrise," She pleaded.
Angel flashed a little smile. "Sure," He replied softly. "I'd love that." It had been too long since Buffy's warm, decidedly human flesh had filled his arms, peaceful in the way sleep always made a person. He motioned to the side of the house. "Meet you upstairs?" He asked.
"Sure." Buffy impulsively kissed him, and then entered the house, smiling at him as she closed the door. He could see her bound up the stairs, clearly in good spirits, through the glass pane in the door. The dark-haired demon walked around the side of the house, and quietly scaled the wall, entering Buffy's open window.
He sat on the side of the bed, and waited for her to make her appearance.
Five minutes later, Buffy walked back into her bedroom, all traces of the Slayer having been washed away. The make-up was gone, and she looked younger. She wore a long, white nightgown with t-shirt sleeves, and tossed a long shirt in his direction. "Here. I doubt you'd be very comfortable, trying to sleep in that," She explained, tossing a hand at his usual outfit of black jeans, black shirt and long duster.
Angel pulled off the duster, and draped it over the back of one of Buffy's chairs. He peeled off the shirt, and hung it over the duster, slipping the large T-shirt Buffy had tossed him on. It went down to almost mid-thigh.
He tried to be casual as he unbuttoned his jeans, and pulled them off. They revealed only a plain pair of black boxers.
Angel tried to calm himself as he stepped out of the jeans pooled around his feet, but it wasn't easy. This was the first night he and Buffy had spent together since the infamous Angelus incident, and though nothing was to come of it, sexually speaking, he was a little rattled.
Buffy patted the bed beside her, and he sat down, throwing his legs across the bed, and laying down, pulling her with him. She snuggled her back against his front, and pulled the covers snugly around them.
Angel kissed Buffy's temple, and smoothed her golden-blond hair out of the way. She mumbled a sleepy good-night, apparently exhausted, and he smiled. "G'night, Buffy," He replied.
Angel was gone by first sunlight, when Buffy awoke to an empty bed, a smile still on her face and her mother's voice calling her to get ready for school. She moved slowly out of bed, and realized that her answer had been provided.
Silently she spoke to Angel in her head. I'll make it work until you don't want to anymore, she said. And she could almost hear him speak back to her in her head.
I love you, Buffy. That's all I can promise. But I do promise that, for the rest of my life.
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Rating: PG