Chapter 10: The Bronze
Walking the night streets Angel was silently discussing if he was going insane.
The mere thought of Anne in the arms of another man almost sent him over the
edge. This had to be insanity. There was no rational explanation for it.
The worst part however had been his dreams. He'd expected to dream about Anne,
he'd expected lusty, sweaty images but nothing. Instead he had been dreaming
about Buffy. Holding her, kissing her, laughing with her, making love to her,
again and again. And even now his soul cried out for her while his body lusted
after her grand-child. If that wasn't insanity...
He'd experienced wild things, strange things, but this was beyond everything.
Maybe he projected his longing for Buffy onto Anne. He'd read about these
things. For some years he'd found pleasure in reading psychology stuff and he
could remember about projecting feelings. Could this be the explanation?
Could it explain the sudden pang of jealousy, the urge to pummel that unknown
"hot guy", Anne was lusting for. She shouldn't think about another guy. The
only guy she should think about ... oh no, not again, he groaned inwardly. Now he didn't even want to allow her to think about another. He wasn't stupid, this
went beyond mere sexual attraction. And it scared him to death. Or un-death that
was.
Desperately he tried to find a reason. It couldn't be. Buffy was the love of
his life. Buffy was the person he would love and cherish until the day he'd
become dust. He was sure he would die this way one day. He wasn't believing in
the prophecy Wesley had once translated anymore. It wasn't even important
anymore, now that Buffy was dead, but there was still Anne, another part of his
mind whispered. No, no, no, he cried inwardly in desperate denial. He couldn't
feel this way. No way would he betray his love for Buffy.
Blinking he stopped. He was standing in front of the "Crush", *the* favourite
club in Sunnydale for young people. Unconsciously his feet had carried him
here. He shook his head in disbelief. This was even worse than he'd thought. Now
he was following her.
Stalking.
Be honest with yourself, Angel. You're stalking the girl. Consciously or not, but there is no other word for it. Before his rational part realised it he was in the club. The light was dim and he carefully stayed in the dark corners, surveying the dance-floor and the tables and then his blood began to boil. There she was. In the arms of another. And all his rational thinking, all his desperate denial flew right out of the window. He wanted to rip that guy apart.
And Anne shouldn't enjoy being with this ... this jerk.
"Hey, do you want to dance?"
His head jerked around and he was blindly staring at a red-haired girl in her
twenties. She was pretty and obviously trying to flirt with him. "No," he
replied in a sharp voice.
She raised her hands and rolled her eyes, "Alright, alright. No need to get
angry. It was just a question." Walking away from him, he could hear her
mutter, "Guys get weirder every day."
He took a deep breath to calm down. The whole situation was spiralling out of
control quickly. He could feel his hands tremble in distress, when he saw a
black-haired girl walking over to him. He remembered having seen her with Anne
the other night. "Hey aren't you Angel?," she asked with a smile.
"Yeah, Karen, right?"
Her eyes lit up, "You remember my name. Anne didn't tell you'd come. It's my
birthday party, you know. But you're always welcome." She took his arm. "Come
on, Anne will be pleased. We talked about you", she said with a wink.
Confused Angel looked at her, "What were you talking about me?"
"Never mind," she grinned. "Don't you want to come and sit at our table. Anne
will be back soon. Come on."
He let her pull him with her, too confused to do anything against it. The girls
had been talking about him?
"See there they come," Karen pointed towards an approaching couple and only at
the last second Angel could prevent himself from growling.
"Angel?," Anne's eyes widened in surprise when she saw the vampire sitting at
the table with her friend.
His reply was a short nod.
"What are you doing here? Did something happen on pat ... I mean is something
wrong, with Willow?," she corrected herself.
"No," he shook his head. "Everything's fine. I just thought I should give my
best wishes to your friend on her birthday."
"Thanks," Karen turned towards him and beamed. The light was much better at the
table and for the first time Angel saw the bracelet on the girl's wrist.
His hand shot out to touch it, "Where did you get that from?," he asked, his
voice urgent. It was a bracelet with a Claddagh-symbol in it.
"Anne gave it to for my birthday," Karen explained happily. Isn't it beautiful?
"Yes, beautiful," he confirmed but his eyes wandered to Anne. Something was
very wrong. In all the nine months that he knew her the girl had never ever
showed any interest for Celtic symbols or history. When he'd told her that he
came from Ireland, all she'd said had been 'it's a small island somewhere in
Europe right'. He had laughed at her comment, but now she would give her friend
something like that? Alright it could be a coincidence, things like these one
could buy everywhere, but still it was strange.
The slayer looked at the man beside her. He was tall, his hair was fair blonde
and he had green eyes. "Angel, this is Luke, Luke this is Angel ... my ... uh
... a friend of my ... uhm ... family."
"Oh," Luke extended a hand to the vampire, "Nice to meet you."
Angel didn't bother to take the offered hand. No way he would touch that man.
Jealousy was burning hot in his stomach, knotting his gut painfully.
"I just offered Anne to take her home," Luke said with a grin at the girl in
his arm, ignoring the behaviour of the man he thought being a relative.
Taking her home? No way! "No", Angel almost shouted, then cleared his throat in
embarrassment. "I mean. There's no need for it. She can come with me."
"But," Luke wanted to argue when Anne put a hand on his arm.
"No, it's alright. Angel can take me. He's going there anyway. Stay and enjoy
the party. Karen, I really have to go. I'm dead tired." She yawned.
"Sure," Karen gave her a smile. "It was nice to meet you Angel," she said to
the vampire and her gaze went back and forth between her friend and the
dark-haired man. Anne could say what she wanted, but there were definitely sparks flying between them.
"You too," the vampire got up and looked at Anne. "Let's go."
The slayer waved a hand at Luke and Karen, "Bye then."
*
They were walking in silence for a while before Anne suddenly said, "Sooo, what
was the real reason you came tonight?"
"What?," Angel asked as casually as possible. There was no way he'd let her
know what was going on inside of him. She would scream and run away.
She shrugged, "I just think that it's rather strange. You never came to the
Crush before and tonight you show up like this."
He stopped and looked at her. "Like what?"
"I don't know. As if you wanted to rip Luke apart. Something like that." She
gazed at him expectantly and heard the his sharp intake of breath.
Narrowing his eyes he watched her face, "He isn't good for you," he said and
turned to walk again.
"Not good for me, huh?," her temper was rising unwillingly, "And who are you to
tell me who is good for me and who not? Are you my father? No! My brother? No!
So keep away from my business," she hissed.
"Your business," he echoed. "He had his hands all over you." Stop it, Angel,
stop it, he scolded himself. This is sheer madness. You were involved with her
grand-mother. But wasn't it madness with Buffy too. Oh God, now he actually
started to find excuses to get involved with Anne?!
"And?," her eyes were narrowed angrily too. "I'm a legal adult. It's my
business and mine alone whose hands are on me or not. If I want a guy to fuck me, it's my decision," she shouted
At that moment something in Angel snapped. Acting on pure instinct he reached
for her and crushed her to him. His mouth searching hungrily for hers, pressing
her body as close as possible. His tongue demanded entrance into her mouth not
leaving space for discussion.
Almost like a reflex she slung her arms around his neck and opened her mouth
for him. A moan escaped her throat when she felt the passion pulsing through her. Yes, her body and soul screamed. Yes, this was so right, this was the real thing. Anne was far beyond rational thinking. She was melting in his arms, drowning in sheer bliss to be so near to him. She had never known love before but in an instant she knew it had to be exactly like this. She couldn't get enough of him, wanted more, wanted everything.
His hands were roaming over her body, touching her through her shirt, seeking
for contact.
Somewhere in the depth of his mind something began to whisper. First it was
faint, but became stronger with every passing second, with every touch, every
kiss, every moan from her. This feeling was so familiar, so blissfully
familiar. He didn't want to feel it, but was helpless not to. His soul was
reaching out for the girl in his arms, desperately seeking contact with it's
other half.
"Buffy," he moaned into her mouth.
Instantly consciousness kicked in and panic surged through his body. With wide,
horrified eyes he jumped away from her as if she was on fire. She stood there,
panting, her eyes blazed over with desire and passion, not able to understand
what just had happened.
"Angel?," Anne barely recognized her voice. It was so different.
"No," came the panic-stricken reply from the vampire. "This is wrong," he said
desperately. "We cannot do this. I cannot. Oh God, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.
Forgive me. God, forgive me," he repeated again and again.
"Angel?," she repeated, not understanding and struggling with her own feelings.
She felt a little shaky herself, like a movie there were images rushing through
her head. Images she couldn't place or understand. Voices, faces, events she
couldn't remember, but they seemed so familiar. "I... Angel, what is happening
to us?"
"I don't know," he didn't have an answer. "All I know is that I have to stay
away from you. I cannot do this. I'm sorry, but I won't betray Buffy. And
certainly not with her own grand-daughter."
"But she is dead," Anne cried in despair.
"Don't say this. She isn't dead, not for me. I felt," suddenly his eyes widened
again. "You weren't breathing and then ... oh God, oh dear God," he whispered,
not believing, not daring to believe what now seemed so obvious to him. What
would explain everything.
"What?," she demanded. "Tell me what you think. I don't understand what's going
on," her voice was rising with every word. He could see she was utterly
confused and even hurt.
"I cannot tell you. Not now. First I have to ... Anne, we should go home. I
have to talk to Willow," his voice became urgent and he took her hand. With this
touch he reached out for her again. But he had to be sure, he had to know for
certain before he could tell her. "Come on. Willow's certainly waiting for us."
With this he began to walk leaving her to follow completely and utterly
confused.
End Chapter 10.
Walking the night streets Angel was silently discussing if he was going insane.
The mere thought of Anne in the arms of another man almost sent him over the
edge. This had to be insanity. There was no rational explanation for it.
The worst part however had been his dreams. He'd expected to dream about Anne,
he'd expected lusty, sweaty images but nothing. Instead he had been dreaming
about Buffy. Holding her, kissing her, laughing with her, making love to her,
again and again. And even now his soul cried out for her while his body lusted
after her grand-child. If that wasn't insanity...
He'd experienced wild things, strange things, but this was beyond everything.
Maybe he projected his longing for Buffy onto Anne. He'd read about these
things. For some years he'd found pleasure in reading psychology stuff and he
could remember about projecting feelings. Could this be the explanation?
Could it explain the sudden pang of jealousy, the urge to pummel that unknown
"hot guy", Anne was lusting for. She shouldn't think about another guy. The
only guy she should think about ... oh no, not again, he groaned inwardly. Now he didn't even want to allow her to think about another. He wasn't stupid, this
went beyond mere sexual attraction. And it scared him to death. Or un-death that
was.
Desperately he tried to find a reason. It couldn't be. Buffy was the love of
his life. Buffy was the person he would love and cherish until the day he'd
become dust. He was sure he would die this way one day. He wasn't believing in
the prophecy Wesley had once translated anymore. It wasn't even important
anymore, now that Buffy was dead, but there was still Anne, another part of his
mind whispered. No, no, no, he cried inwardly in desperate denial. He couldn't
feel this way. No way would he betray his love for Buffy.
Blinking he stopped. He was standing in front of the "Crush", *the* favourite
club in Sunnydale for young people. Unconsciously his feet had carried him
here. He shook his head in disbelief. This was even worse than he'd thought. Now
he was following her.
Stalking.
Be honest with yourself, Angel. You're stalking the girl. Consciously or not, but there is no other word for it. Before his rational part realised it he was in the club. The light was dim and he carefully stayed in the dark corners, surveying the dance-floor and the tables and then his blood began to boil. There she was. In the arms of another. And all his rational thinking, all his desperate denial flew right out of the window. He wanted to rip that guy apart.
And Anne shouldn't enjoy being with this ... this jerk.
"Hey, do you want to dance?"
His head jerked around and he was blindly staring at a red-haired girl in her
twenties. She was pretty and obviously trying to flirt with him. "No," he
replied in a sharp voice.
She raised her hands and rolled her eyes, "Alright, alright. No need to get
angry. It was just a question." Walking away from him, he could hear her
mutter, "Guys get weirder every day."
He took a deep breath to calm down. The whole situation was spiralling out of
control quickly. He could feel his hands tremble in distress, when he saw a
black-haired girl walking over to him. He remembered having seen her with Anne
the other night. "Hey aren't you Angel?," she asked with a smile.
"Yeah, Karen, right?"
Her eyes lit up, "You remember my name. Anne didn't tell you'd come. It's my
birthday party, you know. But you're always welcome." She took his arm. "Come
on, Anne will be pleased. We talked about you", she said with a wink.
Confused Angel looked at her, "What were you talking about me?"
"Never mind," she grinned. "Don't you want to come and sit at our table. Anne
will be back soon. Come on."
He let her pull him with her, too confused to do anything against it. The girls
had been talking about him?
"See there they come," Karen pointed towards an approaching couple and only at
the last second Angel could prevent himself from growling.
"Angel?," Anne's eyes widened in surprise when she saw the vampire sitting at
the table with her friend.
His reply was a short nod.
"What are you doing here? Did something happen on pat ... I mean is something
wrong, with Willow?," she corrected herself.
"No," he shook his head. "Everything's fine. I just thought I should give my
best wishes to your friend on her birthday."
"Thanks," Karen turned towards him and beamed. The light was much better at the
table and for the first time Angel saw the bracelet on the girl's wrist.
His hand shot out to touch it, "Where did you get that from?," he asked, his
voice urgent. It was a bracelet with a Claddagh-symbol in it.
"Anne gave it to for my birthday," Karen explained happily. Isn't it beautiful?
"Yes, beautiful," he confirmed but his eyes wandered to Anne. Something was
very wrong. In all the nine months that he knew her the girl had never ever
showed any interest for Celtic symbols or history. When he'd told her that he
came from Ireland, all she'd said had been 'it's a small island somewhere in
Europe right'. He had laughed at her comment, but now she would give her friend
something like that? Alright it could be a coincidence, things like these one
could buy everywhere, but still it was strange.
The slayer looked at the man beside her. He was tall, his hair was fair blonde
and he had green eyes. "Angel, this is Luke, Luke this is Angel ... my ... uh
... a friend of my ... uhm ... family."
"Oh," Luke extended a hand to the vampire, "Nice to meet you."
Angel didn't bother to take the offered hand. No way he would touch that man.
Jealousy was burning hot in his stomach, knotting his gut painfully.
"I just offered Anne to take her home," Luke said with a grin at the girl in
his arm, ignoring the behaviour of the man he thought being a relative.
Taking her home? No way! "No", Angel almost shouted, then cleared his throat in
embarrassment. "I mean. There's no need for it. She can come with me."
"But," Luke wanted to argue when Anne put a hand on his arm.
"No, it's alright. Angel can take me. He's going there anyway. Stay and enjoy
the party. Karen, I really have to go. I'm dead tired." She yawned.
"Sure," Karen gave her a smile. "It was nice to meet you Angel," she said to
the vampire and her gaze went back and forth between her friend and the
dark-haired man. Anne could say what she wanted, but there were definitely sparks flying between them.
"You too," the vampire got up and looked at Anne. "Let's go."
The slayer waved a hand at Luke and Karen, "Bye then."
*
They were walking in silence for a while before Anne suddenly said, "Sooo, what
was the real reason you came tonight?"
"What?," Angel asked as casually as possible. There was no way he'd let her
know what was going on inside of him. She would scream and run away.
She shrugged, "I just think that it's rather strange. You never came to the
Crush before and tonight you show up like this."
He stopped and looked at her. "Like what?"
"I don't know. As if you wanted to rip Luke apart. Something like that." She
gazed at him expectantly and heard the his sharp intake of breath.
Narrowing his eyes he watched her face, "He isn't good for you," he said and
turned to walk again.
"Not good for me, huh?," her temper was rising unwillingly, "And who are you to
tell me who is good for me and who not? Are you my father? No! My brother? No!
So keep away from my business," she hissed.
"Your business," he echoed. "He had his hands all over you." Stop it, Angel,
stop it, he scolded himself. This is sheer madness. You were involved with her
grand-mother. But wasn't it madness with Buffy too. Oh God, now he actually
started to find excuses to get involved with Anne?!
"And?," her eyes were narrowed angrily too. "I'm a legal adult. It's my
business and mine alone whose hands are on me or not. If I want a guy to fuck me, it's my decision," she shouted
At that moment something in Angel snapped. Acting on pure instinct he reached
for her and crushed her to him. His mouth searching hungrily for hers, pressing
her body as close as possible. His tongue demanded entrance into her mouth not
leaving space for discussion.
Almost like a reflex she slung her arms around his neck and opened her mouth
for him. A moan escaped her throat when she felt the passion pulsing through her. Yes, her body and soul screamed. Yes, this was so right, this was the real thing. Anne was far beyond rational thinking. She was melting in his arms, drowning in sheer bliss to be so near to him. She had never known love before but in an instant she knew it had to be exactly like this. She couldn't get enough of him, wanted more, wanted everything.
His hands were roaming over her body, touching her through her shirt, seeking
for contact.
Somewhere in the depth of his mind something began to whisper. First it was
faint, but became stronger with every passing second, with every touch, every
kiss, every moan from her. This feeling was so familiar, so blissfully
familiar. He didn't want to feel it, but was helpless not to. His soul was
reaching out for the girl in his arms, desperately seeking contact with it's
other half.
"Buffy," he moaned into her mouth.
Instantly consciousness kicked in and panic surged through his body. With wide,
horrified eyes he jumped away from her as if she was on fire. She stood there,
panting, her eyes blazed over with desire and passion, not able to understand
what just had happened.
"Angel?," Anne barely recognized her voice. It was so different.
"No," came the panic-stricken reply from the vampire. "This is wrong," he said
desperately. "We cannot do this. I cannot. Oh God, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.
Forgive me. God, forgive me," he repeated again and again.
"Angel?," she repeated, not understanding and struggling with her own feelings.
She felt a little shaky herself, like a movie there were images rushing through
her head. Images she couldn't place or understand. Voices, faces, events she
couldn't remember, but they seemed so familiar. "I... Angel, what is happening
to us?"
"I don't know," he didn't have an answer. "All I know is that I have to stay
away from you. I cannot do this. I'm sorry, but I won't betray Buffy. And
certainly not with her own grand-daughter."
"But she is dead," Anne cried in despair.
"Don't say this. She isn't dead, not for me. I felt," suddenly his eyes widened
again. "You weren't breathing and then ... oh God, oh dear God," he whispered,
not believing, not daring to believe what now seemed so obvious to him. What
would explain everything.
"What?," she demanded. "Tell me what you think. I don't understand what's going
on," her voice was rising with every word. He could see she was utterly
confused and even hurt.
"I cannot tell you. Not now. First I have to ... Anne, we should go home. I
have to talk to Willow," his voice became urgent and he took her hand. With this
touch he reached out for her again. But he had to be sure, he had to know for
certain before he could tell her. "Come on. Willow's certainly waiting for us."
With this he began to walk leaving her to follow completely and utterly
confused.
End Chapter 10.