Spend all your time waiting
for that second chance
for a break that would make it okay
there's always one reason
to feel not good enough
and it's hard at the end of the day
*
Buffy Summers was unaware of the world. She could've been in a sound proofed, white room with no windows she was so distracted. Well, one thing in the world she did notice, and she didn't know if she actually wanted to acknowledge it. Standing in the middle of the graveyard, surrounded by tall headstones and darkness that had woven itself into a blanket and covered itself over Sunnydale. She didn't feel like she was actually there anymore. She didn't know if she was in Heaven again or Hell. She didn't know what cherry flavored lollipops tasted like anymore. All she could think of was the man standing a few yards away from her, hands tucked into deep pockets of a black - leather duster. Brown, pleading eyes gazed at her guiltily almost, but there was a hint of happiness in those eyes. Spikey, chocolate locks were silken and silver highlighted by the bright moon, which shone brighter and fuller than Buffy had ever remembered. The man's broad chest was covered by some sort of material, silken or wool that Buffy had forgotten the name of. But she would never forget his name.
Angel. In a word, it was perfection. It was like cherries, dipped in chocolate ontop of a huge vanilla sundae, with whipped cream and peanut butter. It was like lying on the beach on a summer's day, feeling the tide rush up against your body, while just lying there and not worrying about anything. Not demons... or vampires, or hell, or your little sister's grades... Angel was Buffy's heaven.
And she loved him. She always had, and though she had only admitted it upon two or three occasions, she never completely admitted it to herself. It would only hurt her more than it already did. At first, it was a constant throb that made her body ache and feel like she was dying... Suffocating... As if someone had ripped part of her away and she would never get it back. An amputation of the heart. But then she realized what it was. What it had to be. Her mate left her, and now all she could think of was him. And then, the constant throb turned numb, and she just couldn't feel anything. It made her sick how numb she grew, after a while. After her death everything was worse, because she needed him more than she needed to breathe.
Gazing up at him, she let a single tear run down her cheek.
***
Angel gazed at her. She was so beautiful. Her golden blonde locks were long now, and curly. She didn't look like her remembered her, even though he had memorized her face a million times and counting. Her eyes were more chameleon, a hazel color that couldn't exactly make up its mind. Were they green or were they brown? Her lips were pink, slightly swollen for a swift punch that she had taken there, and very pouted. Kissable looking. He gazed at her body for a moment. Gone was the gangley, almost too skinny girl that had just come back from the dead... No longer the girl in college, who had just lost her mother... The girl who had just been trying to help... The girl her loved with all his heart, which might have been unbeating... But it felt like it was beating like a jack rabbit whenever he came around her. She was wearing a white shirt, which was barely a shirt. It was see through, and she wore only a pink bra beneath it which was very visisble to any person who would look. She also wore low riding, black jeans that hugged her all over. Angel wanted nothing more than to gather her up in his arms and kiss her until the end of time.
Buffy. In a word, she was his heaven, his redemption. His way of making amends. She was something to live for, even though he was not exactly living. She was his sunshine, the kind that didn't hurt. She was his world, or had been, when things weren't so unbearable. It had been going well, until Faith came along. If only that rogue Slayer didn't have to get into Buffy's business. She was obviously jealous of Buffy's completely stable life. If only she would've figured that Angel himself was not the reason that Buffy was so strong. He was just something that made her life a little better. Maybe it was something like that. But she was just something that he needed to go on. Had been and still was. But when things got harder - Buffy talking about the future, Joyce pressuring him... He knew Buffy needed something else. Knew that Buffy needed something healthy, someone who was alive. Someone who could give her children and someone who did not have to hide in the shadows as she went into the sunlight. Someone who could make love to her without becoming a monster.
And he loved her. He loved her more than humanly - and inhumanly - possible. All he thought of was her. Nowadays, with Cordelia gone. Connor was gone. Buffy was gone too, but now with her standing by him, not so close but closer than they had been in a very long time, he knew that he wouldn't be able to leave.
"I can't do this Angel," she whispered hoarsely, gazing at him. She dared to look in his chocolate eyes for a moment, then quickly flicked them back at his shoes. "I can't stand it." She was clutching the wooden stake tightly in her hand, trembling like a vampire that had gone too long without blood or it's mate.
"I -" Angel tried to say, but Buffy held up a hand to silence him.
"Everyone's turned their back on me. First it was Scott, then it was you. Then Riley and Mom, then Giles... People just keep leaving me, Angel, and I don't think I can handle it anymore. If you aren't going to stay - if you've just come to drop by and say hello, then leave. I don't think I -" Buffy broke off, more tears streaming down her cheeks. Angel felt himself hating himself more than previously, and quickly closed the distance between them and pulling her roughly into his strong arms.
"Sh.... Shh," he said, one hand smoothing over her silken hair, the other hand on her back, so large that it spanned most of her shoulder blades. "I'm not going anywhere." He kissed the top of her head, and then smiled softly as her small limbs wound themselves around his neck and she pressed a cheerful cheek to his shirt.
"I missed you," she whispered, voice crackling and thick.
"I missed you too, love." He rocked her gentley, feeling as though God had just gifted him with a wonderful present that he had to take, no question about the consequences. He silently comforted her, in turn comforting himself.
She pulled back slightly, gazing up at him with her big eyes, bottum pouted lip trembling ever so. Without even thinking, Angel leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. Both groaned audibly, leaning closer together and melting into one. Buffy stood on her tiptoes, getting closer to him. Angel knew this was a mistake, but if it was wrong... He didn't want to be right.
I need some distraction
oh beautiful release
memory seeps from my veins
let me be empty
and weightless and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight
Angel found himself wanting to go further. He found himself wanting to lower them onto the green grass and make love until the dawn came. They had a couple hours, and Angel knew how to use them... But Buffy was the one who ended the kisses, stepping back and staring at him. Almost in a guilty way, too. She took his hands off her hips, and held one in each of hers.
"I would take you home," she murmered. "But I can't."
"Why is that?" Angel asked, unable to look at anything but her.
"Because they kicked me out. It's a long story." She glanced away, but then looked back at him worriedly. Would he hate her now? Think less of her?
"I have time," he said, the same way he used to, only now he had perfected that look even more. The, 'I know there's something wrong, and I'll wait until you tell me.' She raked a hand through her hair nervously, and then it all poured out. They had begun walking, Buffy letting go of one of his hands, so they were strolling. They had left Sunny Rest and now were heading aimlessly. But she began to recognize streets - they were going towards Crawford Street, where Angel's old mansion was.
"So then they said that if I couldn't not be the leader, I had to leave... So I went on patrol." Buffy sighed, then shrugged. "I guess they were right. But you know me... Natural born leader."
"They were right. I don't know what to tell you, Buff. I kind of have been in your position before. It's a long story." He grinned at her, and she grinned back at him, nearly blinding him with her pearly whites.
"I've got time." She squealed as he pulled her into his arms and wrapped them around her slender waist. He dipped her back, strong arms giving not a chance to drop her. She giggled as he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. She quickly realized it as a distraction and side step. She didn't want to end the kiss, but she knew if she was going to get any information she would have to keep on topic. Pulling away, she gave him a look that had mirrored his own. He sighed and straightenend them up, but didn't let go of her waist.
"I - uh, well... A couple things have changed a lot, Buffy." He couldn't look her in the eye as he told her the recent events, spanning back to Darla and Dru, Connor, Cordelia and the higher being thing, Cordelia and the pregnant thing, Jasmine, and then the other Connor thing. And the whole Angelus thing. He didn't know wether or not she would like him after this. Glancing up at her finally, he found her unusually calm and collected.
"So... You love Cordelia now?" she asked. Angel forgot how Buffy argued, even though she had obviously changed tactics in the time they had been seperated.
"NO! Obviously not. I love you or I wouldn't be here, now would I?" Angel gazed at Buffy seriously, and she shrugged.
"I guess. Anyway, so why didn't you tell me about Connor?" she asked, hands sliding over his shoulders as she turned to face him.
"Because... Connor was a baby only a year ago... Then he was eighteen. Plus, he was Darla's, and I knew that you'd be disapointed with me." He stroked her arms gentley and grinned at her shiver. "Plus, I was guilty."
"About what?" she asked.
'The whole Faith thing. The Day that Doesn't Exist. Maybe that I love you so much that I wasn't ready to see you again because I didn't have myself under control,' he thought, the options unlimited. He watched as Buffy gazed at him, even more surprised that she was not hating him... Or beating him up... Or something like that.
"That he couldn't be your's..." He dared to say, staring soulfully into her mossy green eyes. She nodded, not a look of fear on her face. She knew that there was more there but didn't want to probe.
"What do you say we spend the next few hours together?" Buffy asked, taking his hand and winding it around her waist. He smiled, flashing his pearly whites, and Buffy's heart nearly melted. 'How does he do that?' she wondered while shaking her head. Her blonde curls bounced gentley on her shoulders she smiled back at him.
"That sounds great."
Both looked up to where they had unconciously lead themselves. They were standing in front of Angel's stone mansion. A place where so many things had taken place....
In the arms of an angel
fly away from here
from this dark cold hotel room
and the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage
of your silent reverie
you're in the arms of the angel
may you find some comfort there
Buffy was dreaming. She had to be. She was lying on Angel's bed, on fresh sheets, with Angel wrapped around her in a big Angel blanket. It wasn't bad, either. She could smell his soap - Ivory, the kind she liked. He always smelled like a different soap. It was fabulous. She was smiling, in her dream. Angel wasn't breathing, but she could tell he was sleeping. Angel didn't breathe a lot, but it wasn't like he needed to. She never thought that she and Angel would be like this again. She never thought that she would be this close to him ever again. She hoped, but never thought so.
Turning slightly, she looked at his face. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen. He surpassed handsome, but there was not a word that described his beauty. His spikey, chocolate looks were slightly touseled, and his skin was pale, his eyelashes dark against his cheeks. His lips were like two pale rose petals, or however the poem went. In anyway, he was angelic.
As if sensing she was awake, he stirred, brow furrowed and eyes starting to move behind his lids. He moved closer, pulled her tighter against his chest, as if to make sure she was still there. It was almost sad, but it wasn't. Buffy scooted closer still, pressing against him in every way possible. She cupped his cheek with one of her tiny hands and pressed a light kiss to his gentle lips. His eyes fluttered open and he smiled.
"Hi," she said softly.
"Hi," he parroted softly.
"I didn't know when you were going to wake up."
"I didn't want to wake up. I was dreaming."
"Oh?" Buffy asked with a grin on her face. She leaned forward again, giving in to the irresistable urge to kiss him. Their tounges dueled in an ancient dance, both of them becoming heated with the passion of the kiss. Angel shifted and pulled Buffy with him, so she was lying on top of them, and both were fully clothed. Their kisses deepened, becoming more and more passionate. She loved the feel of his mouth. It had been so long... Too long...
"Buffy," Angel murmered, pushing her gentley away. "We shouldn't."
"Why not? Angel, I'm sick of this... Things we can't do... Why can't we?"
"You know why..." he mumbled, hands on her hips. It would be so easy to just surrender to the things he was feeling. Buffy would be more than pliable, but he knew what was wrong and what was right. He had already been Angelus this year, and needed a break from the demon within.
"I know," she sighed exasperatedly. "I'm just... So sick of it all. I wish we could just stay here forever."
"So do I," Angel said. "So do I."
"What are we going to do Angel? Now that we're here?" Buffy asked, leaning forward to lay her head on his chest. If she tried hard enough, she could pretend that he still loved her. She could pretend they were back then, back when Angel was her world. She knew that they never could be. She knew that it would never happen. But she could pretend. She could pretend.
"I don't know. I was thinking that maybe we could ..." Angel didn't finish the sentance. Buffy didn't let him. She put a finger to his lips.
"I don't want to talk. It was retorical."
So tired of the straight line
and everywhere you turn
there's vultures and thieves at your back
and the storm keeps on twisting
you keep on building the lie
that you make up for all that you lack
"What do you think Buffy's doing now?" Dawn asked, tucking her light brown hair behind her ears. She wasn't used to being like this. She knew that her sister was ok. She knew that she had to tell Buffy what she did. It was true. Buffy couldn't not be the leader. But she was insane. She needed a break and this was the only way they were going to get away alive.
"I don't know." Faith was not exactly being leaderly. She was standing at the window. Her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she looked ok. Not too slutty anymore, but somewhere in between. "All right, troups," she mumbled. The girls all turned their attention to her. "Let's get some sleep. We're all going to need rest."
They nodded obiediantly, and headed down to the basement. They (the remaining Slayers) had all moved into the basement. It was a good idea, because they were closer to eachother. Plus, not in Buffy, Dawn, Willow, or Faith's rooms.
Willow was already upstairs, so Kennedy trouped up there. Faith went up as well, but Wood followed her. Tonight, the Summers household was not as it usually was. There was no fighting, simpley ... peace.
It don't make no difference
escaping one last time
it's easier to believe
in this sweet madness
oh this glorious sadness
that brings me to my knees
Buffy knew that she needed to fight. She needed to get off her ass and do something. But Angel was there. Angel could help her. Angel was a big distraction. She didn't want to leave his arms. And tongiht, she supposed that would be fine. Lying there, she remembered something that Whistler had said, years ago when Angel went bad.
"In the end, you're always by yourself. You're all you've got," he had said.
But Buffy knew differently. She, unlike most Slayers, had friends. She knew that there was more to life than slaying. And in the end, she would never be alone. She would always have Angel. He would always be there, no matter what.
Snuggling deeper into his embrace, she closed her eyes.
You're in the arms of the angel
may you find some comfort here
A/N: I had to write this.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Characters belong to Joss, lyrics to Sarah McLachlan
for that second chance
for a break that would make it okay
there's always one reason
to feel not good enough
and it's hard at the end of the day
*
Buffy Summers was unaware of the world. She could've been in a sound proofed, white room with no windows she was so distracted. Well, one thing in the world she did notice, and she didn't know if she actually wanted to acknowledge it. Standing in the middle of the graveyard, surrounded by tall headstones and darkness that had woven itself into a blanket and covered itself over Sunnydale. She didn't feel like she was actually there anymore. She didn't know if she was in Heaven again or Hell. She didn't know what cherry flavored lollipops tasted like anymore. All she could think of was the man standing a few yards away from her, hands tucked into deep pockets of a black - leather duster. Brown, pleading eyes gazed at her guiltily almost, but there was a hint of happiness in those eyes. Spikey, chocolate locks were silken and silver highlighted by the bright moon, which shone brighter and fuller than Buffy had ever remembered. The man's broad chest was covered by some sort of material, silken or wool that Buffy had forgotten the name of. But she would never forget his name.
Angel. In a word, it was perfection. It was like cherries, dipped in chocolate ontop of a huge vanilla sundae, with whipped cream and peanut butter. It was like lying on the beach on a summer's day, feeling the tide rush up against your body, while just lying there and not worrying about anything. Not demons... or vampires, or hell, or your little sister's grades... Angel was Buffy's heaven.
And she loved him. She always had, and though she had only admitted it upon two or three occasions, she never completely admitted it to herself. It would only hurt her more than it already did. At first, it was a constant throb that made her body ache and feel like she was dying... Suffocating... As if someone had ripped part of her away and she would never get it back. An amputation of the heart. But then she realized what it was. What it had to be. Her mate left her, and now all she could think of was him. And then, the constant throb turned numb, and she just couldn't feel anything. It made her sick how numb she grew, after a while. After her death everything was worse, because she needed him more than she needed to breathe.
Gazing up at him, she let a single tear run down her cheek.
***
Angel gazed at her. She was so beautiful. Her golden blonde locks were long now, and curly. She didn't look like her remembered her, even though he had memorized her face a million times and counting. Her eyes were more chameleon, a hazel color that couldn't exactly make up its mind. Were they green or were they brown? Her lips were pink, slightly swollen for a swift punch that she had taken there, and very pouted. Kissable looking. He gazed at her body for a moment. Gone was the gangley, almost too skinny girl that had just come back from the dead... No longer the girl in college, who had just lost her mother... The girl who had just been trying to help... The girl her loved with all his heart, which might have been unbeating... But it felt like it was beating like a jack rabbit whenever he came around her. She was wearing a white shirt, which was barely a shirt. It was see through, and she wore only a pink bra beneath it which was very visisble to any person who would look. She also wore low riding, black jeans that hugged her all over. Angel wanted nothing more than to gather her up in his arms and kiss her until the end of time.
Buffy. In a word, she was his heaven, his redemption. His way of making amends. She was something to live for, even though he was not exactly living. She was his sunshine, the kind that didn't hurt. She was his world, or had been, when things weren't so unbearable. It had been going well, until Faith came along. If only that rogue Slayer didn't have to get into Buffy's business. She was obviously jealous of Buffy's completely stable life. If only she would've figured that Angel himself was not the reason that Buffy was so strong. He was just something that made her life a little better. Maybe it was something like that. But she was just something that he needed to go on. Had been and still was. But when things got harder - Buffy talking about the future, Joyce pressuring him... He knew Buffy needed something else. Knew that Buffy needed something healthy, someone who was alive. Someone who could give her children and someone who did not have to hide in the shadows as she went into the sunlight. Someone who could make love to her without becoming a monster.
And he loved her. He loved her more than humanly - and inhumanly - possible. All he thought of was her. Nowadays, with Cordelia gone. Connor was gone. Buffy was gone too, but now with her standing by him, not so close but closer than they had been in a very long time, he knew that he wouldn't be able to leave.
"I can't do this Angel," she whispered hoarsely, gazing at him. She dared to look in his chocolate eyes for a moment, then quickly flicked them back at his shoes. "I can't stand it." She was clutching the wooden stake tightly in her hand, trembling like a vampire that had gone too long without blood or it's mate.
"I -" Angel tried to say, but Buffy held up a hand to silence him.
"Everyone's turned their back on me. First it was Scott, then it was you. Then Riley and Mom, then Giles... People just keep leaving me, Angel, and I don't think I can handle it anymore. If you aren't going to stay - if you've just come to drop by and say hello, then leave. I don't think I -" Buffy broke off, more tears streaming down her cheeks. Angel felt himself hating himself more than previously, and quickly closed the distance between them and pulling her roughly into his strong arms.
"Sh.... Shh," he said, one hand smoothing over her silken hair, the other hand on her back, so large that it spanned most of her shoulder blades. "I'm not going anywhere." He kissed the top of her head, and then smiled softly as her small limbs wound themselves around his neck and she pressed a cheerful cheek to his shirt.
"I missed you," she whispered, voice crackling and thick.
"I missed you too, love." He rocked her gentley, feeling as though God had just gifted him with a wonderful present that he had to take, no question about the consequences. He silently comforted her, in turn comforting himself.
She pulled back slightly, gazing up at him with her big eyes, bottum pouted lip trembling ever so. Without even thinking, Angel leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. Both groaned audibly, leaning closer together and melting into one. Buffy stood on her tiptoes, getting closer to him. Angel knew this was a mistake, but if it was wrong... He didn't want to be right.
I need some distraction
oh beautiful release
memory seeps from my veins
let me be empty
and weightless and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight
Angel found himself wanting to go further. He found himself wanting to lower them onto the green grass and make love until the dawn came. They had a couple hours, and Angel knew how to use them... But Buffy was the one who ended the kisses, stepping back and staring at him. Almost in a guilty way, too. She took his hands off her hips, and held one in each of hers.
"I would take you home," she murmered. "But I can't."
"Why is that?" Angel asked, unable to look at anything but her.
"Because they kicked me out. It's a long story." She glanced away, but then looked back at him worriedly. Would he hate her now? Think less of her?
"I have time," he said, the same way he used to, only now he had perfected that look even more. The, 'I know there's something wrong, and I'll wait until you tell me.' She raked a hand through her hair nervously, and then it all poured out. They had begun walking, Buffy letting go of one of his hands, so they were strolling. They had left Sunny Rest and now were heading aimlessly. But she began to recognize streets - they were going towards Crawford Street, where Angel's old mansion was.
"So then they said that if I couldn't not be the leader, I had to leave... So I went on patrol." Buffy sighed, then shrugged. "I guess they were right. But you know me... Natural born leader."
"They were right. I don't know what to tell you, Buff. I kind of have been in your position before. It's a long story." He grinned at her, and she grinned back at him, nearly blinding him with her pearly whites.
"I've got time." She squealed as he pulled her into his arms and wrapped them around her slender waist. He dipped her back, strong arms giving not a chance to drop her. She giggled as he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. She quickly realized it as a distraction and side step. She didn't want to end the kiss, but she knew if she was going to get any information she would have to keep on topic. Pulling away, she gave him a look that had mirrored his own. He sighed and straightenend them up, but didn't let go of her waist.
"I - uh, well... A couple things have changed a lot, Buffy." He couldn't look her in the eye as he told her the recent events, spanning back to Darla and Dru, Connor, Cordelia and the higher being thing, Cordelia and the pregnant thing, Jasmine, and then the other Connor thing. And the whole Angelus thing. He didn't know wether or not she would like him after this. Glancing up at her finally, he found her unusually calm and collected.
"So... You love Cordelia now?" she asked. Angel forgot how Buffy argued, even though she had obviously changed tactics in the time they had been seperated.
"NO! Obviously not. I love you or I wouldn't be here, now would I?" Angel gazed at Buffy seriously, and she shrugged.
"I guess. Anyway, so why didn't you tell me about Connor?" she asked, hands sliding over his shoulders as she turned to face him.
"Because... Connor was a baby only a year ago... Then he was eighteen. Plus, he was Darla's, and I knew that you'd be disapointed with me." He stroked her arms gentley and grinned at her shiver. "Plus, I was guilty."
"About what?" she asked.
'The whole Faith thing. The Day that Doesn't Exist. Maybe that I love you so much that I wasn't ready to see you again because I didn't have myself under control,' he thought, the options unlimited. He watched as Buffy gazed at him, even more surprised that she was not hating him... Or beating him up... Or something like that.
"That he couldn't be your's..." He dared to say, staring soulfully into her mossy green eyes. She nodded, not a look of fear on her face. She knew that there was more there but didn't want to probe.
"What do you say we spend the next few hours together?" Buffy asked, taking his hand and winding it around her waist. He smiled, flashing his pearly whites, and Buffy's heart nearly melted. 'How does he do that?' she wondered while shaking her head. Her blonde curls bounced gentley on her shoulders she smiled back at him.
"That sounds great."
Both looked up to where they had unconciously lead themselves. They were standing in front of Angel's stone mansion. A place where so many things had taken place....
In the arms of an angel
fly away from here
from this dark cold hotel room
and the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage
of your silent reverie
you're in the arms of the angel
may you find some comfort there
Buffy was dreaming. She had to be. She was lying on Angel's bed, on fresh sheets, with Angel wrapped around her in a big Angel blanket. It wasn't bad, either. She could smell his soap - Ivory, the kind she liked. He always smelled like a different soap. It was fabulous. She was smiling, in her dream. Angel wasn't breathing, but she could tell he was sleeping. Angel didn't breathe a lot, but it wasn't like he needed to. She never thought that she and Angel would be like this again. She never thought that she would be this close to him ever again. She hoped, but never thought so.
Turning slightly, she looked at his face. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen. He surpassed handsome, but there was not a word that described his beauty. His spikey, chocolate looks were slightly touseled, and his skin was pale, his eyelashes dark against his cheeks. His lips were like two pale rose petals, or however the poem went. In anyway, he was angelic.
As if sensing she was awake, he stirred, brow furrowed and eyes starting to move behind his lids. He moved closer, pulled her tighter against his chest, as if to make sure she was still there. It was almost sad, but it wasn't. Buffy scooted closer still, pressing against him in every way possible. She cupped his cheek with one of her tiny hands and pressed a light kiss to his gentle lips. His eyes fluttered open and he smiled.
"Hi," she said softly.
"Hi," he parroted softly.
"I didn't know when you were going to wake up."
"I didn't want to wake up. I was dreaming."
"Oh?" Buffy asked with a grin on her face. She leaned forward again, giving in to the irresistable urge to kiss him. Their tounges dueled in an ancient dance, both of them becoming heated with the passion of the kiss. Angel shifted and pulled Buffy with him, so she was lying on top of them, and both were fully clothed. Their kisses deepened, becoming more and more passionate. She loved the feel of his mouth. It had been so long... Too long...
"Buffy," Angel murmered, pushing her gentley away. "We shouldn't."
"Why not? Angel, I'm sick of this... Things we can't do... Why can't we?"
"You know why..." he mumbled, hands on her hips. It would be so easy to just surrender to the things he was feeling. Buffy would be more than pliable, but he knew what was wrong and what was right. He had already been Angelus this year, and needed a break from the demon within.
"I know," she sighed exasperatedly. "I'm just... So sick of it all. I wish we could just stay here forever."
"So do I," Angel said. "So do I."
"What are we going to do Angel? Now that we're here?" Buffy asked, leaning forward to lay her head on his chest. If she tried hard enough, she could pretend that he still loved her. She could pretend they were back then, back when Angel was her world. She knew that they never could be. She knew that it would never happen. But she could pretend. She could pretend.
"I don't know. I was thinking that maybe we could ..." Angel didn't finish the sentance. Buffy didn't let him. She put a finger to his lips.
"I don't want to talk. It was retorical."
So tired of the straight line
and everywhere you turn
there's vultures and thieves at your back
and the storm keeps on twisting
you keep on building the lie
that you make up for all that you lack
"What do you think Buffy's doing now?" Dawn asked, tucking her light brown hair behind her ears. She wasn't used to being like this. She knew that her sister was ok. She knew that she had to tell Buffy what she did. It was true. Buffy couldn't not be the leader. But she was insane. She needed a break and this was the only way they were going to get away alive.
"I don't know." Faith was not exactly being leaderly. She was standing at the window. Her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she looked ok. Not too slutty anymore, but somewhere in between. "All right, troups," she mumbled. The girls all turned their attention to her. "Let's get some sleep. We're all going to need rest."
They nodded obiediantly, and headed down to the basement. They (the remaining Slayers) had all moved into the basement. It was a good idea, because they were closer to eachother. Plus, not in Buffy, Dawn, Willow, or Faith's rooms.
Willow was already upstairs, so Kennedy trouped up there. Faith went up as well, but Wood followed her. Tonight, the Summers household was not as it usually was. There was no fighting, simpley ... peace.
It don't make no difference
escaping one last time
it's easier to believe
in this sweet madness
oh this glorious sadness
that brings me to my knees
Buffy knew that she needed to fight. She needed to get off her ass and do something. But Angel was there. Angel could help her. Angel was a big distraction. She didn't want to leave his arms. And tongiht, she supposed that would be fine. Lying there, she remembered something that Whistler had said, years ago when Angel went bad.
"In the end, you're always by yourself. You're all you've got," he had said.
But Buffy knew differently. She, unlike most Slayers, had friends. She knew that there was more to life than slaying. And in the end, she would never be alone. She would always have Angel. He would always be there, no matter what.
Snuggling deeper into his embrace, she closed her eyes.
You're in the arms of the angel
may you find some comfort here
A/N: I had to write this.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Characters belong to Joss, lyrics to Sarah McLachlan