Thanks again for the feedback so far. I am so very glad you seem to like the story! When I started it, I never expected it to become so popular, but I'm really, really happy about it. I'm sorry this part took a while, but
I was busy! Hope you'll like it, too. Don't hold back, tell me!
Oh, and one thing – I had some trouble with flaming for another story by an obviously disturbed person who believes to be a C/A-shipper. For that I took only signed reviews for a while. I've changed it back now. So you can review – and I hope you'll do! Or you can send me an e-mail if you want!
Love's Gift - Part 8
By Jill
"You are going to die, girl."
Buffy sighed loudly and rolled her eyes, the stake firmly clutched in her
fingers, "This is getting so old. Really, I wonder if there's a book for
sale with all this stuff. 'How to annoy a Slayer with dumb words'."
"But you are going to die," the vampire insisted, grinning evilly. He pointed
behind his back where three others appeared.
"Are you gonna scare me to death, or what?," Buffy said flippantly, silently
assessing the situation. They didn't seem very old. It wouldn't be easy, but
she had no doubt she'd be able to take them.
"Bold words, little girl," the second vampire, a female, hissed. "I hope you
made your testimony."
"Damn, I knew I forgot something, before I left tonight," the blond replied.
A smile crept across her face, "On a second thought. I think it's not
necessary. You look like real losers."
At that two of the four vampire attacked. She staked the first one easily,
then tried to get rid of the second who had his arm around her throat in an
attempt to
apply pressure to her windpipe.
Buffy managed to shake him off, turned and without looking her foot shot out,
connecting with a hard chest.
"Umph."
Her eyes focussed instantly, and her eyes widened in shock, "Angel!"
The dark-haired vampire staggered backwards, one hand clutched over the spot
where she'd hit him. He tried to smile, but it was more like a grimace,
"Buffy, hi."
"Oh God," she rushed over, the vampires momentarily forgotten. "I'm sorry.
I'm sorry. I didn't see you."
"I know." This time he managed to grin. Seeing her worried gaze, he touched
her arm, "Hey, it's no big. It's okay."
She bit her lower lip, "Are you sure?"
"Yeah," he assured her, then shoved her away when the next vampire attacked.
*
"Well," Buffy grinned, trying to get rid of the vampire dust on her clothes.
"That was fun."
"Yeah," Angel agreed, one hand rubbing the sore spot on his chest.
She was instantly concerned, "Are you sure, you're alright?"
"I'm fine." He smiled, "Buffy, I'm okay. It hurts, sure. But it'll heal. It
always does. I'm a vampire, remember."
"Good. Fine." The concern turned to anger, "Are you crazy, sneaking up on me
like that? I could've staked you."
That brought a grin on his face, "No way. You wouldn't do such a thing.
Besides, I trust your reflexes. You're too good."
She gave him a long, hard look, then rolled her eyes. Finally a laugh broke
out. "You *are* crazy," she stated. "What are you doing here? I thought we'd
meet later at Restfield."
Suddenly uncomfortable he averted her eyes.
"Angel?"
"I ... uh ...," he stammered, knowing he wouldn't like the reason he'd come
early. Finally he took a deep breath, "I was concerned about you."
"That's so sweet," she said to his surprise, smiling.
"It is?"
"Uh-huh. I love you all protective It's sexy."
"Sexy, huh?," he smiled sheepishly.
"Which of course isn't a safe subject. Especially now. With you and me. Alone.
In a graveyard."
"No," he agreed, sighed, took a step back. "That's something we have to talk
about, Buffy."
"No," she shook her head emphatically, then pouting she stepped closer to him,
"'cause talking about those things would be bad. Really, really bad."
Angel pressed his hands against her shoulders, holding her away from him,
"Buffy-"
"No," she insisted, tempted to stomp her foot to the ground. "Angel," she
whined, "We're together. Here. We could just ... hold each other ... like
friends. Good friends. Loving friends. But still, just holding. That's safe,
don't you think?" She gave him a hopeful smile.
He looked at her for a moment, then shook his head, letting out an audible
breath, "We cannot just pretend the problem doesn't exist."
"That's not what we are doing," she said firmly, "We'll be careful. Angel ...
it's the first time we're alone together for ...," she threw her hands in the
air, "days. And it's not as if we're jumping each other now. Tearing each
others clothes off."
He had to swallow hard, pushed away the images her words had caused in his
mind, his whole body instantly hard. "Buffy, this is too serious to just
ignore it."
"I already told you, I don't want to talk about it," she snapped, turning
away.
"Buffy," he said softly, reaching out for her, but not daring to touch, "We
have to talk about this."
"NO," she replied defiantly, wrapping her arms around her middle. "I. Don't.
Want. To. Understand? There is nothing to talk about. Because if we do, it's
going to be some big, ugly crying feast. You're going to tell me how much of
a problem this is going to be. That this is all wrong. Knowing you, you might
even consider leaving me for my own good."
She expected him to argue, but when he didn't say a word, when there came no
sound from him, she felt her stomach drop through the bottom. She whirled
around, her eyes watering, "That's it, right? That's what you were thinking
about. Leaving. God, Angel." Angrily she wiped the tears away with the back
of her hand, her chin coming up. "Well, I won't let you."
"Buffy-"
"Don't Buffy me," she cried, anger blazing through the tears in her hazel
eyes, "I cannot believe you're even contemplating something so stupid. Don't
you see that I need you? That I love you? Doesn't it mean anything to you?"
"How can you say that?," he shot back, the pain in her eyes almost tearing
him apart. She stood there her clothes and hair dishevelled, tears streaming
down her face, and all he wanted was to take her in his arms and never let go.
But at the same time the rational part of his brain told him he mustn't.
He was suddenly furious with the situation he couldn't control, furious at
her for not understanding what he was going through. And the words just
tumbled from his lips, angry, desperate, like a volcano exploding without
warning, words he wouldn't have thrown at her under different circumstances,
"How can you stand there, knowing all the things that happened and ask me
that? All I want, all I dream about, is to stay with you forever. But I also
know what happens if I turn again. Or have you already forgotten what
happened? The way I hurt you? The way I killed? The way I threatened your
friends? *I* cannot forget. Because I was there. I dream about it. Night
after night." He ran a hand through his hair, "And as long as I can prevent
it, it won't happen again. Not. Ever. Again."
"Angel-," she whispered, hating the pain etched on his features, wanting to
reach out, not daring to.
He went on as if she hadn't said a word, "Don't you think it's tearing me
apart. Do you think this is easy for me? Do you think I'm saying this to hurt
you? Don't you think I'd give everything to change this? But I can't. We
don't know why I got my soul back, Buffy. And as long as we're not certain,
we cannot risk this. It's too dangerous. Do you have any idea how it feels to
be afraid to be too happy? To be afraid to smile, afraid it might be the last
time you do it with your soul intact. Have you ever thought about that?"
His voice was loud and angry in the end and Buffy flinched at the pain
underneath. God, what kind of a selfish brat was she? She had never thought
about it that way. Never seen what it meant for him. To live with that kind
of fear. She wanted to say something, anything, to help him, but she couldn't
find the words. And because she couldn't, because she felt helpless, the way
he did, anger rose.
She saw him taking a deep breath, his voice calmer now, controlled, already
angry with himself for bringing up the subject up in the first place, "And
besides. I'm not saying I'm going to leave. Not right now, anyway. Not before
we haven't tried to find a solution for this mess."
And that more than anything, that ability to calm down, to shut down his
anger and his feelings, let her own anger explode all of a sudden. Deep
inside she knew her feelings were irrational, knew that tomorrow she would
hate herself for doing this, but at the moment, just this moment, she didn't
give a damn. The pain inside of her was so deep, so raw and all she wanted
was to lash out.
"Oh," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "So what you're saying is
that I might have a boyfriend in four weeks time, but maybe he'll be gone?
Well, that really is a big help. You know what? Why don't you just leave?
Why don't you just pack your bags and leave? It's not that I need you anyway.
I mean, I've been fine without you here. You made the disappearing act before
and I was fine. I'll be again."
The pain was like a holy sword slicing through his insides, and Angel managed
to stifle a gasp the very last moment. In a muddled part of his brain he
understood what she was doing right now, that the words were spoken out of
anger and pain, that she didn't really mean them. Still he wanted to grab her
and shake her until she came to her senses.
And maybe if he'd done exactly that, Buffy might have been able to see through
the red mist that swam before her eyes. But instead she saw him shut down, his
eyes going blank. And it was too much. All of a sudden she couldn't bear it,
couldn't stand him standing there, as if nothing mattered, while she was
bleeding inside.
Her palm connected with his cheek with a loud slapping noise. She gasped,
only now realising what she had done. She saw him reach out, took a step back.
If he touched her now, she'd fall apart. "I hate you," she whispered, blinking
the tears away, "I hate you," she repeated, then turned and ran.
He wanted to follow her, wanted to shout at her, wanted ... he wanted so many
things, but he did nothing, just stood, rooted in place, sighed as he looked
after her while she sprinted away from him through the cemetery. It was for
the best, he assured himself, taking a deep breath. He'd done enough for
tonight. He shouldn't have started anything, not yet. Not when he didn't know
for himself what was the right thing to do.
With a final sigh he turned away, his steps and heart heavy when he made his
way to his apartment.
He was so deep in thoughts, he never saw the figure behind the bushes, the
figure that overheard the whole conversation, the figure that turned and left
the cemetery into the other direction.
And he never saw the shadow following him into the alley.
*****
Willow had been dreaming something really nice and comforting, when there
was suddenly a knock on her bedroom window. Her dream had been about Oz, and
then had shifted to Xander. It was a bit disturbing, but she didn't mind.
She'd been dreaming about Xander for so long, one more dream couldn't do any
harm. They were less frequent these days, and that made her feel a whole lot
better.
So when she was jerking upright, she was annoyed for a moment, being pulled
out of a beautiful dream, and needed a moment, blinking her eyes, yawning, to
understand what was happening.
"Wh-what?," she mumbled.
The knock came again, and then she heard a muffled voice, "Willow. Come on,
open up."
She blinked again, only a shadow visibly on her balcony, "Who is this?"
"It's me. Xander."
"Xander?" She pulled back her blanket, shifted her legs over the edge, and
fishing for her bunny slippers, stood. "I'm coming," she whispered, listening
for a moment, afraid her parents might be awake. Content when she didn't hear
anything, she shuffled to the door, opened it, "Xander? Is something wrong?
It's in the middle of the night."
"I know that," he replied, "It's just ... I need to talk to you."
"Uhm ... hate to state the obvious, but one usually talks during the day.
Night-time is sleeping time."
"Yeah, yeah," he said, then not waiting for an invitation he pushed the door
wide open and strolled past her into her bedroom.
Willow quietly but firmly closed the door, a bit overwhelmed by his behaviour,
"You know the Rosenberg-rule about boys in the bedroom, right?"
"Oh, come on, Will. I've been in your bedroom more times I can count."
"That was before you became aware of the differences between girls and boys,"
she remarked, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
"That's what your parents like to think," he joked, "Truth is, I matured
early. Besides, Angel was here. You told me yourself."
"That was an emergency, and besides, my mother never knew."
"You have a boyfriend now," he pointed out.
"Who my mother knows nothing about. It was hard enough for her to see her
only daughter wearing a cross around her neck. She would have a heart-attack,
knowing I'm dating someone who plays in a band." She grimaced, "If we'd
actually talk, that is."
"So Oz never ..."
Willow sighed, slowly getting annoyed. She was tired, her eyes hurt from
being glued to the computer screen for a whole day, and her bed had never
looked so tempting. "That would be a big no-no," she replied. "Of course he
never...." She reaised a brow, "Why?""
He shrugged, turned towards her desk, "Just curious," he said, deliberately
trying to sound casual, not wanting to betray the joy he felt that Oz and
Willow hadn't been intimate so far. He didn't love Willow, well, he loved
her, but didn't love-love her. It was more like a brother loved his sister.
And like all big brothers, and he felt he was exactly that, he didn't like
the idea of Willow getting naked with a man. Any man.
"Okay, Xand. It's in the middle of the night. You're standing in my bedroom.
Spill it."
He whirled around, facing her, surprised by the sudden change in her attitude.
"This is about Buffy-"
"Now that is news," Willow said sarcastically, "Xander's thinking about
Buffy."
"-*and* Angel. About the whole Buffy and Angel keep your hands off of each
other stuff."
"Ah," the redhead nodded, suddenly angry. "Well, if you came to ask if you
might have a chance with her now that Angel might be out of the picture?
Forget it. That's so not going to happen. He's still around. And even if he
left, Buffy doesn't feel that way for you."
"I know," he bit out. "That's not ...," he took a deep breath. He had come to
talk to her about something important, not to fight. "That's not why I came.
I mean, sure, I still think she's attractive and all. But *hello*, I've got
an Cordlia now, and besides, Buffy is all lovey-dovey about Angel, every
idiot can see that. Not ... that I think I'm an idiot ...," he sighed, then
muttered, "although by dating Cordy it might have just proven that."
"Huh?"
He shook his head, "Nothing. Anyways. I just happened to be in the cemetery
... thought I might give Buffy a hand ...," he saw Willow look at him
knowingly, and shook his head again, "Not to impress her. Hardly. Just ...
you know ... giving a helping hand, or rather, the ear of a friend... Well,
anyway. I was standing there and she was fighting those vamps and then Angel
showed up-"
"Are they okay?"
"They are fine. Will, there were four vamps. Against Buffy *and* Angel. They
didn't stand a chance. But that's still not ... Afterwards they were talking
and Angel ... he said something about maybe leaving Sunnydale, and she
started shouting, then crying, it was a really big fighting thing, and then
she ran away. And I can hardly believe I'm saying this, but ... it didn't
make me feel all better. In fact, it made me feel bad. Really bad. The
Buffster's been crying far too much lately."
Willow nodded, "I agree. But Xand, we're trying already. We're working all
the time to find something to help them. I don't know what else we can do."
He looked at her a long moment, then his shoulders slumped in defeat, "I
know. It's ... just," he shrugged weakly, "I really feel bad. I thought if
Buffy would finally see that Angel isn't what she needs and he's gone I'd do
the Snoopy-dance, but instead I feel really bad, just thinking he might
leave. When they were just fighting, I wanted to jump in and hit their heads
for behaving so stupid." He took a deep breath, ran a hand through his hair,
his frustration evident. "And I can't do anything to help them. What does
that make me?"
Her expression was warm, "A good friend."
"Friend? I feel like a loser. We have to do something, Will. We cannot just
stand there and see it happen. I hate to say it but it's gonna destroy her.
Not on the outside, you know. She'll show us the happy-Buffy-face. But inside
she's gonna die."
Willow couldn't hide the surprise she felt at his words, "What happened to
you, Xand? When did you get so wise?"
He shrugged again, feeling slightly embarrassed. He picked up a bear from
her bed, squeezed it, then threw it back down, "So," he took a deep breath,
"Any ideas how to help them?"
... to be continued
Feedback would be appreciated! And makes me write faster. Really - it does.
Connemara.Scarlets@t-online.de