Just Human, Chapter 13: CONCERNED FRIENDS AND OTHER FEELINGS

"Where is she?" Buffy asked breathlessly and walked passed Willow who had
opened the door. The blond had run almost the whole way from her apartment
to the redhead's house after the witch had called her and told her that
Joyce was safely home.

Willow followed her friend to the living room, stopped there and crossed her
arms in front of her chest, "Hi, Buffy," she said, sarcasm in her voice.

The blond whirled around and at the sight of her friend, she released a pent
up breath and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened it again, her
expression was apologetic. "Sorry, Will. Hi. I didn't want to..." she
gestured towards the door, "You know. But I was so worried. How is she? Is
she alright?"

Willow smiled and uncrossing her arms walked towards the kitchen, "You want
something to drink?" she asked over her shoulder. "And to answer your
question. Joyce is fine. She's upset," she said returning with two soft
drinks in her hands, "but," she handed one to Buffy with a stern face, "what
can you expect after she found her mother in bed with a man. Naked." She bit
her lower lip, but it was in vain, a grin spread across her face. "May I say
congrats?"

"What?" Buffy stared at her.

"I assume the man she described is Angel?"

"Why do I get the expression you think it's a good thing?" the blond asked
wondrously. "And yeah. It was Angel."

"Good," the witch replied with a smile. "And yes, I think it's a good thing.
It's the best thing, if you ask me. You've loved him for so long, Buffy."
Her smiled widened when she saw the surprise on her friend's face, "You
think I didn't notice? I'm your friend. Friends notice these things. But
even if I hadn't. Do you remember asking me about different kinds of love?
You never mentioned Angel, but I knew nevertheless."

This couldn't be real, Buffy decided. She was sitting in Willow's living
room and her friend was encouraging her to continue an affair with Angel. No
word about Joyce's feelings, just 'she's fine, and of course a little bit
upset', but no blaming, nothing.

"Where is Angel by the way?" the witch asked suddenly, "I thought he'd come
with you."

"I sent him away," Buffy replied, still trying to sort out her feelings and
thoughts.

"YOU WHAT?" Willow shouted, her eyes wide and disbelieving. "No, you didn't?
Buffy, he's the best thing that could've happened to you and you
sent him away?," she let out an exasperated sigh and shook her head. "Why?"

"I... I..." the blond stuttered, not knowing what to say. There had been so
many good reasons, but she couldn't think of one at the moment. But there
had been a reason why she'd treated him like scum and just ordered him out
of her life - and that after she'd seen his eyes. Oh God. She suddenly
realized she'd moaned out loud.

Willow's gaze sharpened, "Was it because of Joyce? It was, wasn't it? God,
Buffy. Did you honestly think that sending Angel away would change the fact
that she saw you together in bed? Did you plan to go to her and humbly ask
for forgiveness?" the witch was getting really angry, "Did you think, you
needed to sacrifice the only man you ever loved, really loved, so she would
love you again?"

The redhead saw the truth of her words, when the blond looked up at her with
pain and tear filled eyes. She took a deep breath, then looked at he friend
helplessly, "God, Buffy, what have you done? That's not the way to deal with
it. Joyce has to accept that there are parts of your life that are private."

"That's what Angel tried to tell me," Buffy said tonelessly. "He..." her
voice cracked, and she pressed a hand to her mouth and suppressed a sob. "Oh
God, Willow."

"And Joyce will accept it. I talked to her. She's upset, but I told her
about you and Angel. I know she has a problems with vampires and maybe also
with ex-vamps, but she had to know, so she could understand that you and
Angel aren't just some random affair. You didn't just forget about her
father and jumped into bed with a, quote, 'much, much younger man'. I
explained to her that you had to give up Angel and that as a result you
married Riley and she was born, and Ben, and Marlie. I think the moment this
sinks in she'll understand."

Buffy was silent after that and looked at her friend for a long time.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she nodded and stood. She
managed a smile, "Willow, can I use your phone?" she asked simply and her
friend smiled.

*****

Cordelia Chase, because she was still Chase as she'd simply refused to be
Mrs. Wyndham-Pryce, switched off the phone and put the receiver down, but
didn't move, just stared at it with a thoughtful expression in her eyes. She
almost jumped when a hand slipped around her waist and someone started to
nibble at the back of her neck. Usually she would've liked that kind of
attention, but "Not now, Wes," she hissed and freed her from his embrace.

Stepping away from him, she rubbed her forehead, and then combed a hand
through her hair. It wasn't that effective, because it was short these days.
Again. It had been grown long for several years, but hitting the 4-0, she
thought long hair wasn't really that appropriate anymore. So she'd cut it,
and Angelo, her hairdresser had almost cried. She shook her head over her
own train of thoughts. Had to be the stress, she decided.

Turning she found her husband watching her with his serious eyes, "Something
wrong?" he asked and she found herself reminded why she loved him so much.
His voice was gentle and full of concern and his eyes were filled with love.
His hair had started to turn silver at his temples, but in Cordelia's eyes
that made him only more attractive.

"I'm not sure," she replied, burying her hand in her hair again. She took a
deep breath, "That was Buffy," she told him.

"Buffy?" one of his brows shot up, "Buffy Summers? Why on earth would Buffy
call you?"

"She wanted to know which hotel Angel was staying at in Sunnydale."

Wesley smiled slightly, "Well that's good. We were hoping they might get
back together."

"*You* were hoping they'd get back together," she said, "I told him he
should stay the hell away from her. She's never been good for him. Whenever
she came to L.A. or we had to go back to Sunnydale, especially after she
married that soldier-guy who had no fashion sense at all by the way, he was
a wreck for days, sometimes weeks afterwards. Remember, when we were going
to slay that demon, because Buffy was supposed to be ill? Then it turned out
she was pregnant and you certainly remember what happened when we came back,
right?"

He inhaled deeply and nodded, "Yeah, I remember," he replied, and he did.
There was no way he'd forget finding Angel one morning in a drunken stupor,
so drunk that he'd fallen asleep in front of an open window. When Wesley had
arrived at the hotel, the vampire had been smoldering already. Had he been
only one moment later, there would've been no way he could've prevented
Angel being reduced to ashes.

"Buffy Summers," Cordelia went on, "is the only one with the power to make
Angel truly miserable. And although he's human now and there's no danger
anymore for him to just walk into the sunlight and burst into flames, I
still don't like to see him suffer." Suddenly realizing what she'd said, she
tried to cover up, "Because he'll brood again, and he's such a good
babysitter, but in brood-mood he isn't. Michael starts complaining that his
uncle Angel didn't want to play-"

Wesley stopped his wife's babbling by walking over and wrapping his arms
around her, "I know," he said softly, kissing her inviting lips. He reached
up and ran the back of his hand over her cheek, thanking the Powers or God
or whoever was in charge up there that they'd led him to this incredible
woman who had brought so much love into his life. "You're a good friend,
Cordy. Angel should be glad to have you as his friend."

"He better not forget it," she replied gruffly, blinking rapidly. God, this
was so embarrassing. She was Cordelia, and most of the time she was in
control. But Wesley had the power to turn her insides into mush. "I don't
mind Buffy, really I don't, but she'd better not hurt him, because I have a
busy life and absolutely no time to rush over there to pick up the pieces."

Wesley tightened his arms around her and kissed her again, "I know," he
whispered, deepening the kiss, "I know."

*****

Angel pressed the last of his shirts in his bag and zipped it shut, then
threw it onto his bed. He had even packed the shirt Buffy had torn only
hours ago. He should just have thrown it away, but of course, idiot he was
he couldn't do it.

Running a hand through his hair, he took a deep breath. He was such a fool.
How could he have believed just for a moment, that making love to Buffy
would change things? But when she'd told him she'd never been in love with
Riley, he hadn't been able to hold back. And she'd reacted with the same
passion. Angel knew, he just knew, that it had been more than sex. He knew
Buffy, and he had seen it in her eyes, had felt it in every touch; in the
way she'd clung to him, the way she'd sobbed when they'd spiraled out of
control together.

But making love was one thing, reality another. Reality meant Buffy had
three children. Three children she had neglected for almost six months. For
a mother that was an eternity and a buck load of guilt. Ben and Marlie had
accepted her back in their lives without fuss. But Joyce was difficult. And
when the girl had obviously decided to give her mother another chance she'd
found Buffy in bed with a stranger.

Talk about bad timing.

But all this didn't change the fact that he was a fool. A fool for believing
that Buffy would turn towards him, maybe even lean on him if things got
rough. Instead she'd turned away, far, far away, built up her walls, pushed
him away. She was far from facing the guilt she'd carried around for so
long. Probably she even thought it was the punishment she'd earned for
allowing herself to be with Angel again. God, the situation was a mess.

Angel turned and looked at the packed bag on his bed. He didn't want to
leave. He wanted to rush to her side, offer her his chest to lean on, offer
her his arms to hold her, offer her his love. But without doubt he knew she
would throw it back in his face and more than anything he knew that he
wouldn't be able to deal with another rejection. He felt too raw, too shaky
to put up with her anger again.

It was for the best that he left, he told himself. He would go back to L.A.,
brood for a while, and hopefully find a way to... But no. It wasn't going to
work that way. This time it was Buffy's turn to do something, it was totally
up to her. She had to come to him, more, she had to see what was wrong with
her and face her problems once and for all.

The fact that it was Buffy, who had to do the next move, scared him to
death. The way she'd built up the walls was a sure sign that she wasn't up
to any move at all. God, he couldn't lose her. There was no way he could
live, knowing that there was nothing standing in their path anymore and
still be separated. That would surely, slowly kill him.

A knock on his door let him snap back to reality and with more force then
necessary he tore the door open.

"Buffy?" he said not quite believing his eyes.

"Angel," Buffy replied almost shyly, biting her lower lip.

"How did you find me?" he asked, inviting her with a gesture.

She stepped over the threshold, "Cordelia told me. I called her from
Willow's. Joyce ran to her after..." she blushed delicately, "you know."

"I see," he said. Looking around in the sparely furnished motel-room, he
smiled apologetically, "I'm sorry, I don't have any chairs to offer. If you
want to sit down, you'll have to take the bed."

"No, thank you," she reclined and gave him an uncertain smile. Glancing at
the bed, her eyes widened with instant panic as they fell on the packed bag.
"Are you leaving?"

He watched her face for a moment, and then slowly nodded, "Yes."

"NO!" she almost shouted, coming closer to him. "You can't leave. We just
found each other again."

One of his brows rose, "Oh? A short while ago it sounded quite differently.
You said something about I should take my things and leave."

"I know," she replied, feeling miserable, "I know. And I'm sorry." She took
another step towards him, but didn't dare to touch. "I'm sorry for what I
said. I had no right to do it."

"No, you didn't," he agreed. "You hurt me. But what's worse, you hurt
yourself even more."

"I know," tears were welling up in her eyes, "I was wrong. I... talked to
Willow and," she wiped the first falling tear away, "and she made me see
that I was wrong. She explained everything to Joyce and my daughter will
come around. I know she will. Please, Angel, there's no reason to leave."

God, he wanted to take her in his arms. It broke his heart to see her like
this. Pleading, desperately trying to suppress her tears, because she didn't
want his pity. He wanted to hold her and make her pain go away, wanted to
tell her it would all be all right, and yet, he couldn't. There was no way
he could just forget what had happened only hours ago.

"No," he said, "You're wrong Buffy. There is a reason to leave. And should I
have doubted it, your last words made it crystal clear. I don't have any
choice but to leave."

"What?" confused she looked up to him, her hazel eyes brimming with tears.
"What do you mean?"

"Only hours ago, you wanted me out of your life-"

"I told you, I'm sorry," she cried desperately. "I was wrong. I know that."

"And now you tell me it was all a big mistake, and I should just forget it.
But I can't. When I came... I didn't plan to have sex with you. I thought we
were going to talk, something that might have helped, although I'm not sure
anymore. Then you told me about Riley and... I lost control. It was
overwhelming to touch you and..." he shook his head, clearing his mind from
the images that flashed through it. Buffy naked underneath him, her eyes
glazed with passion, her mouth wet and swollen from his kisses.

Firmly he pushed the images away and went on, "But of course I should've
known that 20 years of guilt can't just be wiped away by an hour of shared
passion. That's just not possible. The moment Joyce stood in your doorway it
meant nothing anymore. What we'd just shared was reduced to insignificance."

"That's not true," she protested. But her voice sounded weak and he could
see that she felt the truth in his words.

He hated it. He hated being right. He wanted her to shout at him, that he
was an idiot and that he'd only imagined the things that had happened. But
she didn't do it. Of course not. He was right. And it hurt like hell to be
right. God, how he wished he was wrong. Just this once. "You know it is," he
said softly, smiling sadly at her. "You need to face your problems first,
Buffy. I can't do it for you. I thought I could. Do it for you, or at least
with you, but you won't let me."

"I will," she sobbed, "Angel, I learned from what happened. I won't push you
away again."

So at least she knew what she'd done, he thought, and felt a small glimmer
of hope. But that could only be the beginning, it was far from being enough, "I
don't know that. And frankly, I don't want to test it. It almost killed me
to see you turning against me after what we shared. I can't do it again. If
you want there to be future for us-"

"I want. Angel, I swear, I want."

He went on as if she hadn't said it, "-you have to find a way to deal with
what happened."

"But Joyce will come around. This won't be a problem anymore," she tried to
argue, not caring anymore that the tears were now streaming down her cheeks.

"Maybe," he replied, giving her the sad smile she'd seen before and it broke
her heart. "But at the moment I'm not strong enough to risk it. What if
tomorrow Xander finds a reason we can't be together, what if next weak
Marlie gives you an ultimatum to choose." He shook his head, "No, Buffy. I
can't live that way, *we* cannot live like that. It would destroy us."

He took a step and closed the gap between them, and then he reached out and
gently wiped her wet cheeks with his thumbs, then cupped them in his palms.
"I love you," he said gently. "I loved you from the moment I saw you and
that will never change."

"I love you too," she sobbed, covering his hands with hers.

He should've felt deliriously happy, but he couldn't. "I wish it was
enough," he said sadly. "But it isn't. It rarely is. You have to find a way
to live with your past, Buffy. And I hope to God you will. Because only
then we will have a chance. If you want, that is."

"Yes, I want Angel," she assured him, still holding his hands. "I swear I
want. And I promise, I'll do everything you want me to. Please don't go.
Please don't leave me. I can't watch you leave again. It almost killed me
the first time."

He pulled his hands away and reached for his bag, "I'm sorry, but that isn't
the way it works. I'm not leaving you. You have my number. I'm just going to
L.A. Buffy, you have to do this on your own. I thought I could help you, but
I, better than anyone, should know that nobody can help you to forgive
yourself. You have to do it. Call me when you know you can deal with it."

"Angel, please," she begged again, reaching for his arm.

He evaded her, and walked towards the door, "You're strong Buffy, the
strongest person I know. You can do it. I'm counting on it."

Buffy closed her eyes, and wrapped her arms around herself. She felt cold
and lonely. He wanted her to do something, she wasn't sure she could. Could
she leave 20 years behind her and move on? Could she be with Angel and not
feel guilty? Could she accept what was and live with it? Angel had made it
perfectly clear that she had to do it, if she wanted to have a future with
him.

And that was one thing she knew for certain. It was as if the incident with
Joyce had opened her eyes and allowed her to see clearly for the first time
in years. She wanted Angel. She still loved him and wanted him in her life.
She wanted him to hold her, be with her, laugh with her and make love to
her. She couldn't even imagine being without him anymore, now that she'd
accepted her love for him.

She opened her eyes again when she heard an engine start outside the motel.
She knew it was Angel's car; she didn't have to go to the window and look.
Angel had left her. Again. But unlike 22 years ago, this time he had left
the choice to her. The question now was if she was up for the challenge.

... to be continued