Author's note:
If you recognize lines, they are taken directly from episodes of BTVS. No copyright infringement is ever intended.
This is part two of my new one, and let me know if you think I should continue.
I have jacked with the events during and following Reptile Boy, so go with it.
Please feed me.
Angel's POV.
Rating: PG-13
Enjoy.
There's blood on it. I can…smell it.
When I kiss you, you don't wake up from a deep sleep and live happily ever after.
She had run pell mell through the cemetary, distancing herself from me. From any idea of normalcy between us. Away from promise, away from reality.
Reality. God! How can I feel this way about someone else when I can't feel anything for myself? Anything except loathing and denial.
She's the bright ray in my dark room. The only thing that makes me want to keep going every night, and the only thing that keeps me from seeing my last sunrise every morning.
Truth be told, when Whistler approached me in New York, and brought me here, I hadn't expect to be moved. I had expected to be shown something, but not what I actually saw.
What I saw I fell in love with the second I layed eyes on it.
One little human, one little clueless human girl at that, denying her desires to be a normal teenager to save innocents who will never know her name.
And just seeing that, I knew that I had to try, too.
When I kissed her finally, in her room after that embarrassing misunderstanding about her diary, which by the way endeared her to me even more, I couldn't control myself, and my true nature reared it's ugly head.
She had screamed at me then, and I had vaulted through her window, ashamed and aroused at the same time.
She had kissed me back.
The first woman since Darla to act like it had any kind of meaning.
When she killed the master, and then disappeared for the summer, I had thought our connection would be lost. I spent the next two months roaming up and down the coast of California, trying not to stalk her in L.A., and trying to kick some demon ass on my free time. The second goal having been met, I had almost gotten to the point of deciding not to return to Sunnydale, when I had heard the whisper of a rumor about the Master. And how some idiotic cult was trying to raise him.
So I doggedly went back to Sunnydale, feeling responsible, and secretly rejoicing in my heart that I had an excuse to see her again.
And oh, how she had hurt me.
As it turned out of course, she had had a valid reason for feeling the way she did. Buffy never has been one to discuss her feelings readily. Another thing we have in common.
And here we are, a few weeks later, and we're still not sure where we stand.
I watch her run away, and curse myself for saying what I had. But one of us has to admit it. We have so many obstacles to hurdle. A vampire in love with a vampire slayer? Ludicrous. But there's nothing to be done for it.
And her comments about wanting to have coffee. Does she think we can actually go on a date? I'm two lifetimes older than she is. What the hell does a normal date consist of? I wouldn't even know where to start.
I pace the cemetary, and decide the hell with caution. I can still smell her on my hands. I can't leave it like this.
"I'm cold, I'm wet, but I'm definitely not scared. Show yourself."
"I'm glad, because I know from experience you could kick my butt to the ground."
She blinks slowly at me, and frowns. I shift back and forth uneasily, and await her answer. Maybe trying to be funny wasn't the right way to go about this.
She finally tells me things are a little too intense for her right now, and she whirls around, heading back toward her home.
No. This is not going to end like this.
I trail after her quickly, and she stops again. I fumble out an apology, and meet her eyes. They stop my rambling quckly. They sparkle in the streetlight, although with anger or desire I can't tell. I decide to find out.
I grab her upper arms, and pull her to me. She seems confused, but allows it. I lower my lips to hers, and kiss her.
She freezes, and as I kiss her, I can feel all the confusion and bitterness at my situation fall away. Her arms finally loosen, and slip around my neck, and I wrap my own around her back. I deepen the kiss. Can't help it. Her lips part and I gently probe inside her mouth with my tounge, the cool temperature of my mouth heated up from the hot moisture of hers. Even with my eyes closed, stars spark in my vision, and my skin breaks out in goose bumps.
She makes a noise then, a desperate mewling sound, and I drag her closer, our bodies touching from head to feet. I feel her nipples tighten against my chest, and a growl sounds unbidden in my throat. I reflexively bring my hand around to her breast, cupping it. It feels like the natural thing to do, but I'm sorry I did it in the next second.
She breaks away from me, panting, and I notice I'm doing the same, unnecessarily. I can taste her, feel her pulse, smell her skin. She's a drug.
My body obviously feels the same way, and I hastily fasten my leather duster in front of me.
I start to speak, to put out my hand, and she spins then, running full tilt away from me again.
Away, always away. This time I don't follow, though I do manage to say hoarsely, "Buffy-"
Her blonde head disappears from view, and I stare after her dejectedly. I ruined it. I knew I would. Years of separation and disconnection have destroyed my ability to function in the human world.
Why would she love me? I'm her natural enemy. Having a soul doesn't detract from the things I've done.
I too turn on my heel, and procede back toward my own home.
I've got to figure out what to do to rectify this.
*********************
I stare at Willow like she's grown two heads.
"She went to a frat party? Did she have a…a..date?" I practically whisper, and Willow whips back at me.
"What did you expect, Angel? She can't be expected to wait around for you. I mean, you're gonna live forever and you don't have time for a cup of coffee?"
I stare at the ground, ashamed and amazed the little red head would speak to me like that. Apparently she's surprised too, because she colors almost the same tint as her hair, then replies miserably.
"…I don't feel better, and now we have to help Buffy."
*********************
We stare at each other across the now monster free basement, and finally she turns to Giles, and he helps her up the stairs.
I follow silently, my face contorting back to it's human visage.
Who knew; a bunch of frat boys worshipping a snake demon. I'm not surprised actually, too much success in one place generally spells monsters.
We exit the frat house, Buffy walking with Giles, and me helping the limping and moaning Cordelia. She clings to my arm, and I try slightly to pull away, but she's got a killer grip, and I don't want her to fall if I let go. So I follow Buffy and Giles to Cordy's car, where Giles lets Buffy and Cordy get in the back.
He faces me, and tells me gently, "I'll take them home." I nod in agreement. Probably in my current state of agitation a very good idea.
I watch as they pull away. Buffy's not looking back.
The next night I sit at the edge of the water at Sunnydale Beach club. It's 2 am, and I have no danger of anyone finding me here.
So I am surprised when she manages to.
"Hey," she says, and toes the ground. Sand arcs around her feet, and I notice they have new polish on them. I can smell it.
God, she's just a girl. And I'm a 245 year old lecher that's totally, head over heels in love with her.
And a monster.
Not the mysterious, black clad champion I think she sees me as.
She sits carefully next to me on the sand, and I notice her looking at my feet.
"What?" I ask quietly.
She snickers lightly. "I've just never seen your feet before. They're really pale."
"Didn't want to get my shoes wet," I say, indicating them, sitting next to me with the socks stuffed in their tops.
We face the ocean, neither of us wanting to say anything.
"Buffy," I start at the same time she says, "Angel."
I put out my hand, and defer to her.
"You can't keep pushing me away. You've saved me countless times already, be it through warnings or just fighting or whatever. Give me some credit, okay? I'm smart enough to make up my own mind about what I want," she spits out, then sighs, turning her face toward mine. "I don't know what it is about you. You infuriate me, and yet I feel like I've known you my whole life. And when I'm near you…it's like the lights dim everywhere else," she concludes simply, and a faint blush colors her cheeks. It makes her glow like a goddess.
"I-" she raises her hand, and I shut my mouth.
"When I saw you in the graveyard the other night, I was so excited I could barely stand it. I think about you constantly. I dream about you. I spend the daylight hours wishing it was night so I could see you right then. Do you think I care what or who you are? Or how old you are? You feel right. You feel more than right, you feel perfect. And when you kiss me…I do wanna die. But only because I'm afraid you might stop."
I turn my head the other way so she doesn't see the bald emotion on my face.
I don't deserve her. I don't. But how can I be away from her now? Not after that speech. And God help me, I do love her. She's my everything. And she's right about something. I don't care what or who I am either. Or how old I am. Because when I'm with her, all I am is what she needs me to be, and I'm as young as a schoolboy again, because I feel like a trembling child in her presence.
"Angel?" she inquires softly, a hint of sorrow in her voice. "Did you hear what I said?"
I move like lightning, sometimes I do love my preternatural speed, and she gasps as I wrap myself around her.
I press my forehead to hers, and meet her gaze solidly. She smiles a little smile, and I quirk one back at her.
And then I kiss her.
And all those stupid sayings about bursting stars, and birds singing, and choirs are true. When you're with your one, they're true. Times a thousand.
She relaxes quickly this time, and tilts her head to get closer to mine. I nibble her lips slowly, and she reciprocates, teasing me back.
Just when we get into a rhythm, I move to her neck, and am rewarded with a deep inhalation of breath. I smile into her throat, and suckle a line up and down the collum, ending up at her pulse. I place a little kiss there, and pull away just as she tries to push my face closer to her.
She pouts at me, and I smile again.
"We have lots of time, Buffy. Don't rush it. I'm not going anywhere."
She raises my hand to her lips, and places them there, where my pulse would be if I had one.
She crawls into my lap, and I hold her as the warm ocean breeze plays over us, and we watch the crawl of the waves at the shore.
And neither of us is thinking about tomorrow, or the next day. She's my fairy tale girl, and I'm her knight.
At least while the sun is down.
TBC.
