Love's Gift - Part 2
By Jill
With a sigh Jenny replaced the receiver in the cradle. The phone
call had been for nothing. She shouldn't be disappointed, she knew,
but she was. Her cousin had been polite but short lipped and he
aunt had refused to talk to her at all. She knew they blamed her
for her uncle's death, blamed her for not doing her job, blamed
her for being human, she thought angrily.
Yes, she should have known it. From the moment she'd been sent to
watch Angel she had felt something was off. She remembered the
expression in her relatives' eyes, the unforgiving hatred, it made
her shiver at the memory. They were so blinded by their unhealthy
revenge, they couldn't think straight anymore. Yes, Angelus had
killed her uncle. But it wasn't Angel's fault he'd fallen in love
with Buffy, it wasn't his fault that her clan had constructed this
insane curse.
They had wanted to punish the demon for it's actions, but were
punishing the man instead. Angel was a master in hiding his
feelings, but still she'd seen the flashes of pain and guilt,
the deep shame whenever his past was mentioned. He'd done nothing
to earn it, other than being young, foolish - human. He'd been
blinded by a beautiful woman, a woman who promised him the world.
A woman that turned out to be a vampire. Darla.
Jenny looked up hearing a noise from the door, and turning her head
she saw Giles coming back into his living-room. Buffy and Angel
had left earlier. They would meet again the next evening. Slayer
and vampire had promised to be careful, and Jenny had to smile
thinking how uncomfortable Rupert had been when warning them to
do nothing that might break the curse again. He was simply adorable
when he was embarrassed.
"What's funny?," Giles asked, looking at her quizzically.
She shook her head, "Nothing. Actually, it's not funny at all.
Aunt Elora refused to talk to me. She told my cousin the matter
wasn't open for discussion. They don't trust me anymore, Rupert,"
she said, turning towards the window, staring out into the night.
"They blame me for my uncle's death."
"I'm sorry."
"I'm not," she replied, smiling slightly to herself. "They are
insane with hatred. Blinded by it. I'm glad I'm not part of it anymore.
The problem is, it doesn't help Buffy and Angel a single bit."
"No, it doesn't," he agreed, walking slowly towards her, resting
his palms on her shoulders. "But I'm glad, too."
She loved the warmth spreading from his palms into her body, "But
what are we going to do? We have to help them, Rupert. I've seen
Buffy these last weeks. She was only a shell of her old self. But
tonight the sparkle was back in her eyes. Did you see how she was
touching him all the time, as if to assure herself he was really here?"
Rubbing her tense shoulders, Giles sighed, "I have seen it. And
it irritated me - for a while. But I agree, none of us ever
realised how badly she needs him. She relies on him. She trusts
him." He paused, not sure he could say the next words, but saying
them nevertheless, "She loves him."
Jenny nodded, turned to look at him, "Yes, she does. And he loves
her. I'm too old to think that love overcomes all, but with them ...
I have a feeling by separating them we'd destroy Buffy. Angel ...,"
she paused, thought about it, "he's used to pain. To grief. He will
probably be able to find a way to live without her. At least exist
without her. But Buffy," she shook her head, "I'm not sure she can."
Giles ran his hands down her arms, squeezed her hands for a moment,
then let go. Walking back to the table, he picked up a book,
"I never wanted to separate them."
"I'm not saying that," she smiled gently, paused, until he looked
at her again. "On the contrary. I think you were very supportive where
Buffy and Angel were concerned. But deep inside, we all thought it
was doomed. That it wouldn't last. That it couldn't last. After
tonight, I think we were wrong. It will last. And for Buffy's sake,
it has to. He might be a vampire, and he might be immortal, but he
understands her. On a level none of us can touch."
He smiled as well now. "It seems you've given the problem a lot
of thought."
"It happens when you're alone at home, feeling guilty. You'd be
surprised what
things go on in your mind then."
"Oh, I know," Giles replied, chuckling. "Don't think you're the only
one carrying guilt."
"I know, I'm not" she said gently, thinking about a time when a
demon the watcher had helped to create, had used her as a host.
"But sometimes thinking is a good thing. And time. I had a lot of
time and I ... I ... uh ... translated Angel's curse."
His head snapped up, "You did?"
Sighing, she nodded. "It's terrible. A cruel curse to punish, to
torture. But I thought in knowing the words, we might be able to
understand it. Now," she shrugged a bit helplessly. "I'm not sure
anymore. I've read it again and again. There's nothing in it. It's
just that. A curse. No secrets. Certainly nothing to help us understand
what happened last night."
"I see." Giles sighed, too. "Well, maybe I could read over the
curse, if you don't mind."
"I don't mind. I thought we could go over it together tomorrow night."
She glanced at the clock. It was already well past midnight.
"A good idea," he agreed, then cleared his throat, "Do you ... want
me to bring you home?"
She hesitated only for a moment. "Yes," she answered, "Yes, I think
that would be good."
He nodded, "Yes. I think, too."
They smiled at each other. They had made a big step tonight towards
restoring their earlier relationship. But both knew it was too early
for more. It would come later. When they were free to think about
themselves.
*
Angel cleared his throat before he opened the door to his old
apartment, holding it open for Buffy to enter. She gave him a quick
glance then stepped inside. He switched on the light, and she
grimaced. "Can you say dusty?"
"I ... uh ... wasn't here after ... you know," he replied, more
than a little embarrassed.
She turned swiftly, putting a hand on his arm, "Angel," she said
softly. "It was a joke. I don't mind. My room looks worse most of
the time."
"Oh." He had to clear his throat again. "I'm not sure it was the
best idea to come here. It holds a lot of bad memories for you."
"Not only bad ones," she replied, smiling at him, then frowned,
"Which probably isn't really a safe topic tonight."
"No, probably not," he agreed. "Not as long as we ...," he trailed
off, quickly looked away from the curtain that separated his
bedroom from the rest of his apartment. The images he connected with
it were much too vivid, too dangerous. Last night he hadn't been
able to prevent what had happened, and regarding the outcome he
couldn't feel sorry for it. But he would do nothing that could set
Angelus free again.
"Right," she said shortly. "Maybe I should better leave. You know
distance might be even safer."
"No!," he said quickly. "I ... I don't want you to go. But ... if you -"
"No. I don't want to go either. Mom won't be home anyway. Not until
tomorrow night. So it's not really that someone is missing me."
"Good," he released a breath of relief. Then realising how it sounded,
he hurried to amend, "Of course I didn't mean-"
"I know," she cut him off, smiling to show him she understood. He
was so tense, so uncertain standing in his living-room, his eyes cast
to the ground. They had been so close the last 24 hours, and Buffy
wanted it back. She knew they had to be careful, but she couldn't stand
the distance that was growing between them.
"Can I get you something?," he asked all of a sudden, remembering his
manners.
"No, thanks. And I doubt you'd have something anyway."
"Right," he nodded, again embarrassment rising inside of him.
"Well ... what do you want us to do?"
"Angel." Not able to stand it any longer, she walked over to him,
took his hand. Startled he raised his head, but the expression in
his eyes was guarded, and inwardly she sighed. "Maybe we could talk
some more?"
"Talk?" He said the word as if he'd never heard it before, stared
at her.
"Yes, talk." She smiled slightly. "You know two people. Their lips
are moving, words are coming out of their mouths...," she trailed off.
He closed his eyes for a moment, then shook his head, "Sorry," he
apologized. "Yes, of course we can talk." He looked at his hand in
hers, but didn't pull away. "It's just that I told you everything
last night. There isn't much more."
"No?," her smile was a bit wobbly. "Well maybe I could talk then.
And you could listen." She hated it, but she felt tears well up in her
eyes. "Angel, I ... I need you. I missed you so much. Every time I met
your demon, I ... was hoping ...," her voice broke, and she tried to pull
away, tried to turn her back to him.
But suddenly she found herself in his embrace instead. Two strong arms
were wrapping themselves around her, bringing her close, his hands
stroking her back, his lips whispering, his words comforting her.
"I'm sorry," he said, and she felt him tremble.
She wrapped her arms around his waist, glad the distance was gone.
"I can't go on without you again," she whispered into his broad chest.
"I need to be with you. I know we have to be careful, but," she
shrugged, "that doesn't mean we can't hold each other, be there for
each other, right?"
"No, it doesn't," he agreed, cupping her face in his hands. "I
love you, Buffy," he said, kissing her gently, pulling back before
passion could stir."
"I love you, too," she replied, smiled.
"Okay," he said after a long moment, pulled back, then holding out
his hand for her, "Tell me about you. Tell what I missed."
"Well," she smiled, put her hand in his, followed him to the sofa,
"you know all the stuff about the judge. But can you believe that
my mother had the hots for Xander?"
When she saw his eyes widen in shock, she laughed out loud. For a
moment she was almost startled by the sound. She could hardly remember
the last time she'd laughed like this. But one things she knew for
certain. Angel had been there. With him gone there wasn't any laughter
left in her. Now he was back, and she would do what she could to keep
it that way.
... to be continued
By Jill
With a sigh Jenny replaced the receiver in the cradle. The phone
call had been for nothing. She shouldn't be disappointed, she knew,
but she was. Her cousin had been polite but short lipped and he
aunt had refused to talk to her at all. She knew they blamed her
for her uncle's death, blamed her for not doing her job, blamed
her for being human, she thought angrily.
Yes, she should have known it. From the moment she'd been sent to
watch Angel she had felt something was off. She remembered the
expression in her relatives' eyes, the unforgiving hatred, it made
her shiver at the memory. They were so blinded by their unhealthy
revenge, they couldn't think straight anymore. Yes, Angelus had
killed her uncle. But it wasn't Angel's fault he'd fallen in love
with Buffy, it wasn't his fault that her clan had constructed this
insane curse.
They had wanted to punish the demon for it's actions, but were
punishing the man instead. Angel was a master in hiding his
feelings, but still she'd seen the flashes of pain and guilt,
the deep shame whenever his past was mentioned. He'd done nothing
to earn it, other than being young, foolish - human. He'd been
blinded by a beautiful woman, a woman who promised him the world.
A woman that turned out to be a vampire. Darla.
Jenny looked up hearing a noise from the door, and turning her head
she saw Giles coming back into his living-room. Buffy and Angel
had left earlier. They would meet again the next evening. Slayer
and vampire had promised to be careful, and Jenny had to smile
thinking how uncomfortable Rupert had been when warning them to
do nothing that might break the curse again. He was simply adorable
when he was embarrassed.
"What's funny?," Giles asked, looking at her quizzically.
She shook her head, "Nothing. Actually, it's not funny at all.
Aunt Elora refused to talk to me. She told my cousin the matter
wasn't open for discussion. They don't trust me anymore, Rupert,"
she said, turning towards the window, staring out into the night.
"They blame me for my uncle's death."
"I'm sorry."
"I'm not," she replied, smiling slightly to herself. "They are
insane with hatred. Blinded by it. I'm glad I'm not part of it anymore.
The problem is, it doesn't help Buffy and Angel a single bit."
"No, it doesn't," he agreed, walking slowly towards her, resting
his palms on her shoulders. "But I'm glad, too."
She loved the warmth spreading from his palms into her body, "But
what are we going to do? We have to help them, Rupert. I've seen
Buffy these last weeks. She was only a shell of her old self. But
tonight the sparkle was back in her eyes. Did you see how she was
touching him all the time, as if to assure herself he was really here?"
Rubbing her tense shoulders, Giles sighed, "I have seen it. And
it irritated me - for a while. But I agree, none of us ever
realised how badly she needs him. She relies on him. She trusts
him." He paused, not sure he could say the next words, but saying
them nevertheless, "She loves him."
Jenny nodded, turned to look at him, "Yes, she does. And he loves
her. I'm too old to think that love overcomes all, but with them ...
I have a feeling by separating them we'd destroy Buffy. Angel ...,"
she paused, thought about it, "he's used to pain. To grief. He will
probably be able to find a way to live without her. At least exist
without her. But Buffy," she shook her head, "I'm not sure she can."
Giles ran his hands down her arms, squeezed her hands for a moment,
then let go. Walking back to the table, he picked up a book,
"I never wanted to separate them."
"I'm not saying that," she smiled gently, paused, until he looked
at her again. "On the contrary. I think you were very supportive where
Buffy and Angel were concerned. But deep inside, we all thought it
was doomed. That it wouldn't last. That it couldn't last. After
tonight, I think we were wrong. It will last. And for Buffy's sake,
it has to. He might be a vampire, and he might be immortal, but he
understands her. On a level none of us can touch."
He smiled as well now. "It seems you've given the problem a lot
of thought."
"It happens when you're alone at home, feeling guilty. You'd be
surprised what
things go on in your mind then."
"Oh, I know," Giles replied, chuckling. "Don't think you're the only
one carrying guilt."
"I know, I'm not" she said gently, thinking about a time when a
demon the watcher had helped to create, had used her as a host.
"But sometimes thinking is a good thing. And time. I had a lot of
time and I ... I ... uh ... translated Angel's curse."
His head snapped up, "You did?"
Sighing, she nodded. "It's terrible. A cruel curse to punish, to
torture. But I thought in knowing the words, we might be able to
understand it. Now," she shrugged a bit helplessly. "I'm not sure
anymore. I've read it again and again. There's nothing in it. It's
just that. A curse. No secrets. Certainly nothing to help us understand
what happened last night."
"I see." Giles sighed, too. "Well, maybe I could read over the
curse, if you don't mind."
"I don't mind. I thought we could go over it together tomorrow night."
She glanced at the clock. It was already well past midnight.
"A good idea," he agreed, then cleared his throat, "Do you ... want
me to bring you home?"
She hesitated only for a moment. "Yes," she answered, "Yes, I think
that would be good."
He nodded, "Yes. I think, too."
They smiled at each other. They had made a big step tonight towards
restoring their earlier relationship. But both knew it was too early
for more. It would come later. When they were free to think about
themselves.
*
Angel cleared his throat before he opened the door to his old
apartment, holding it open for Buffy to enter. She gave him a quick
glance then stepped inside. He switched on the light, and she
grimaced. "Can you say dusty?"
"I ... uh ... wasn't here after ... you know," he replied, more
than a little embarrassed.
She turned swiftly, putting a hand on his arm, "Angel," she said
softly. "It was a joke. I don't mind. My room looks worse most of
the time."
"Oh." He had to clear his throat again. "I'm not sure it was the
best idea to come here. It holds a lot of bad memories for you."
"Not only bad ones," she replied, smiling at him, then frowned,
"Which probably isn't really a safe topic tonight."
"No, probably not," he agreed. "Not as long as we ...," he trailed
off, quickly looked away from the curtain that separated his
bedroom from the rest of his apartment. The images he connected with
it were much too vivid, too dangerous. Last night he hadn't been
able to prevent what had happened, and regarding the outcome he
couldn't feel sorry for it. But he would do nothing that could set
Angelus free again.
"Right," she said shortly. "Maybe I should better leave. You know
distance might be even safer."
"No!," he said quickly. "I ... I don't want you to go. But ... if you -"
"No. I don't want to go either. Mom won't be home anyway. Not until
tomorrow night. So it's not really that someone is missing me."
"Good," he released a breath of relief. Then realising how it sounded,
he hurried to amend, "Of course I didn't mean-"
"I know," she cut him off, smiling to show him she understood. He
was so tense, so uncertain standing in his living-room, his eyes cast
to the ground. They had been so close the last 24 hours, and Buffy
wanted it back. She knew they had to be careful, but she couldn't stand
the distance that was growing between them.
"Can I get you something?," he asked all of a sudden, remembering his
manners.
"No, thanks. And I doubt you'd have something anyway."
"Right," he nodded, again embarrassment rising inside of him.
"Well ... what do you want us to do?"
"Angel." Not able to stand it any longer, she walked over to him,
took his hand. Startled he raised his head, but the expression in
his eyes was guarded, and inwardly she sighed. "Maybe we could talk
some more?"
"Talk?" He said the word as if he'd never heard it before, stared
at her.
"Yes, talk." She smiled slightly. "You know two people. Their lips
are moving, words are coming out of their mouths...," she trailed off.
He closed his eyes for a moment, then shook his head, "Sorry," he
apologized. "Yes, of course we can talk." He looked at his hand in
hers, but didn't pull away. "It's just that I told you everything
last night. There isn't much more."
"No?," her smile was a bit wobbly. "Well maybe I could talk then.
And you could listen." She hated it, but she felt tears well up in her
eyes. "Angel, I ... I need you. I missed you so much. Every time I met
your demon, I ... was hoping ...," her voice broke, and she tried to pull
away, tried to turn her back to him.
But suddenly she found herself in his embrace instead. Two strong arms
were wrapping themselves around her, bringing her close, his hands
stroking her back, his lips whispering, his words comforting her.
"I'm sorry," he said, and she felt him tremble.
She wrapped her arms around his waist, glad the distance was gone.
"I can't go on without you again," she whispered into his broad chest.
"I need to be with you. I know we have to be careful, but," she
shrugged, "that doesn't mean we can't hold each other, be there for
each other, right?"
"No, it doesn't," he agreed, cupping her face in his hands. "I
love you, Buffy," he said, kissing her gently, pulling back before
passion could stir."
"I love you, too," she replied, smiled.
"Okay," he said after a long moment, pulled back, then holding out
his hand for her, "Tell me about you. Tell what I missed."
"Well," she smiled, put her hand in his, followed him to the sofa,
"you know all the stuff about the judge. But can you believe that
my mother had the hots for Xander?"
When she saw his eyes widen in shock, she laughed out loud. For a
moment she was almost startled by the sound. She could hardly remember
the last time she'd laughed like this. But one things she knew for
certain. Angel had been there. With him gone there wasn't any laughter
left in her. Now he was back, and she would do what she could to keep
it that way.
... to be continued