Surprise!!! Betcha didn't know WBOTBH had a sequel (and more coming I just
have to write them)
Thanks for reviewing people!!!!!
Everything was bright white. It hurt her eyes, still wet from crying. She
turned and buried her face in his shirt. He wrapped his arms around her and
held her tight.
They stayed there like that for a long minute.
Carefully Angel pulled away from her, "Come on, I'll take you home."
She looked up at him, her eyes like those of a frightened child and nodded.
**********
She remembered nothing of the walk home, her memories of him unlocking her
front door, and ushering her inside were dim.
Carefully he escorted her up the stairs to her room, guiding her down onto
her bed.
Silently he drew her boots off, placing them side by side next to her bed.
He brushed her hair off her face. "I'm gonna go downstairs and get you some
warm milk. Why don't you put on your pajamas and get into bed." He said to
her.
Silently, numbly she wriggled out of her clothes and into her favourite
pajamas, satin ones with a swirly pattern on them, like her mom's favourite
painting, Starry Night.
She crawled into bed, physically and emotionally drained. Her mother had
cancer. Cancer. And Buffy finally had to face something that she couldn't
fight.
Angel re-entered her room carefully carrying a ceramic mug, which he
pressed into her hands.
"Drink it, it'll help." He told her. She didn't ask him what it would help.
Once finished she placed the empty mug on her dresser and curled down into
her bed. Angel reached out and pulled the covers up around her. "Is there
anything else I can do?"
She reached out her hand and captured one of his, pulling him down onto the
bed with her. "Tell me a story?"
He curled up next to her. "What kind of story?"
"What happened in 1874?" she asked him, her eyes still red from crying.
"Why 1874?"
"I don't know." She answered him.
"In 1874 I was in Florence. It was beautiful in the Spring. Artists would
come from all over Italy to paint. They'd paint anything. Flowers, trees,
children, the Duomo, the Piazzas, everything.
Darla convinced one artist paint her portrait. His name was Alonzo Caprici
and he was an excellent artist. Even though it took him almost a year to
finish the painting Darla loved it.
She had herself painted in a pink dress, standing in brilliant sunshine, I
guess it was her idea of a joke. She always liked irony. Darla loved
paintings. She said that they showed her more of the world, that they
showed her what she couldn't see for herself.
Once we left Florence we joined up with Spike and Drusilla, and several
other vampires in Vienna. We found that once we got there we liked it, so
we kicked the other Alpha vamps out and made Vienna our home base.
Katherine and Anthony stayed with us for a while, but in a few months they
had drifted off and we heard rumors that they were in Belgrade. Once Penn
left we were all in kind of a rut. Just stuck in Vienna, we'd already seen
much of the world and really there was very little left for us to do. So
when Drusilla decided that she wanted to go to Spain we went.
All she wanted to do was go and watch the bull fights. Blood and gore, that
was our Drusilla." he smiled lost in the memory.
"We stayed in Spain, drifting between Madrid and Barcelona for about a year
and a half. After that Darla and I got into an argument. She wanted to go
to India, I wanted to go to Sophia. In the end we all parted company, Spike
and Drusilla leaving for Turkey. Dru said something about the Ottoman
calling her.
We had big plans to meet up in Prague. I never made it there. Spike and Dru
did, they were attacked by a mob there, but I never showed and neither did
Darla.
We met up later in Romania where I was cursed. After that I left them and
didn't see them again for a few years. Until I got lonely. Even though I
had my soul I still missed Darla and Dru, even Spike. I joined up with them
again for a while during the Boxer Rebellion, but things weren't the same.
When I left them that time I left them for good.
I knew that my time with them was over, and a part of me was glad I guess.
I just roamed for years after that trying to find somewhere that I
belonged. A hundred years and I just stayed alone. Until Whistler found me
and brought me to you." Angel smiled remembering it, remembering what it
was like to see her so happy. What it was like to see her in the sunlight.
He looked down at her now he'd almost forgotten how tiny she was, how
fragile she was.
Her eyes were still wide open, but he could see that she was tired. He
tucked the covers in around her as she found her voice. 'What if something
goes wrong? What if she can't fight it? What if she d-...." Her voice
trailed off.
"Don't worry anymore. Sleep. I'll do your worrying for you tonight." He
could see fear in her eyes.
"You won't leave?" she asked in a small voice
"I'll stay here." he promised.
"All night?"
"All night." Carefully he tucked the covers around her and watched her
close her eyes.
She fell asleep so quickly she barely heard his last words, spoken as he
leaned over to kiss her forehead. "Sleep well my love."
have to write them)
Thanks for reviewing people!!!!!
Everything was bright white. It hurt her eyes, still wet from crying. She
turned and buried her face in his shirt. He wrapped his arms around her and
held her tight.
They stayed there like that for a long minute.
Carefully Angel pulled away from her, "Come on, I'll take you home."
She looked up at him, her eyes like those of a frightened child and nodded.
**********
She remembered nothing of the walk home, her memories of him unlocking her
front door, and ushering her inside were dim.
Carefully he escorted her up the stairs to her room, guiding her down onto
her bed.
Silently he drew her boots off, placing them side by side next to her bed.
He brushed her hair off her face. "I'm gonna go downstairs and get you some
warm milk. Why don't you put on your pajamas and get into bed." He said to
her.
Silently, numbly she wriggled out of her clothes and into her favourite
pajamas, satin ones with a swirly pattern on them, like her mom's favourite
painting, Starry Night.
She crawled into bed, physically and emotionally drained. Her mother had
cancer. Cancer. And Buffy finally had to face something that she couldn't
fight.
Angel re-entered her room carefully carrying a ceramic mug, which he
pressed into her hands.
"Drink it, it'll help." He told her. She didn't ask him what it would help.
Once finished she placed the empty mug on her dresser and curled down into
her bed. Angel reached out and pulled the covers up around her. "Is there
anything else I can do?"
She reached out her hand and captured one of his, pulling him down onto the
bed with her. "Tell me a story?"
He curled up next to her. "What kind of story?"
"What happened in 1874?" she asked him, her eyes still red from crying.
"Why 1874?"
"I don't know." She answered him.
"In 1874 I was in Florence. It was beautiful in the Spring. Artists would
come from all over Italy to paint. They'd paint anything. Flowers, trees,
children, the Duomo, the Piazzas, everything.
Darla convinced one artist paint her portrait. His name was Alonzo Caprici
and he was an excellent artist. Even though it took him almost a year to
finish the painting Darla loved it.
She had herself painted in a pink dress, standing in brilliant sunshine, I
guess it was her idea of a joke. She always liked irony. Darla loved
paintings. She said that they showed her more of the world, that they
showed her what she couldn't see for herself.
Once we left Florence we joined up with Spike and Drusilla, and several
other vampires in Vienna. We found that once we got there we liked it, so
we kicked the other Alpha vamps out and made Vienna our home base.
Katherine and Anthony stayed with us for a while, but in a few months they
had drifted off and we heard rumors that they were in Belgrade. Once Penn
left we were all in kind of a rut. Just stuck in Vienna, we'd already seen
much of the world and really there was very little left for us to do. So
when Drusilla decided that she wanted to go to Spain we went.
All she wanted to do was go and watch the bull fights. Blood and gore, that
was our Drusilla." he smiled lost in the memory.
"We stayed in Spain, drifting between Madrid and Barcelona for about a year
and a half. After that Darla and I got into an argument. She wanted to go
to India, I wanted to go to Sophia. In the end we all parted company, Spike
and Drusilla leaving for Turkey. Dru said something about the Ottoman
calling her.
We had big plans to meet up in Prague. I never made it there. Spike and Dru
did, they were attacked by a mob there, but I never showed and neither did
Darla.
We met up later in Romania where I was cursed. After that I left them and
didn't see them again for a few years. Until I got lonely. Even though I
had my soul I still missed Darla and Dru, even Spike. I joined up with them
again for a while during the Boxer Rebellion, but things weren't the same.
When I left them that time I left them for good.
I knew that my time with them was over, and a part of me was glad I guess.
I just roamed for years after that trying to find somewhere that I
belonged. A hundred years and I just stayed alone. Until Whistler found me
and brought me to you." Angel smiled remembering it, remembering what it
was like to see her so happy. What it was like to see her in the sunlight.
He looked down at her now he'd almost forgotten how tiny she was, how
fragile she was.
Her eyes were still wide open, but he could see that she was tired. He
tucked the covers in around her as she found her voice. 'What if something
goes wrong? What if she can't fight it? What if she d-...." Her voice
trailed off.
"Don't worry anymore. Sleep. I'll do your worrying for you tonight." He
could see fear in her eyes.
"You won't leave?" she asked in a small voice
"I'll stay here." he promised.
"All night?"
"All night." Carefully he tucked the covers around her and watched her
close her eyes.
She fell asleep so quickly she barely heard his last words, spoken as he
leaned over to kiss her forehead. "Sleep well my love."
