A/N The comparison of Angel's body temperature to cool sheets on a warm
night along with the idea of Buffy's eyes being green when she's happy and
gray when she's sad comes from a much greater writer then myself,
Maquisleader. You can find all her beautiful wonderful stories at her web
site. Email me if you'd like her address.
Stumble Into Grace-Chapter Five
-Angel-
I woke up early to find she sleeps in late. It doesn't surprise me. Buffy has never been a morning person. I called Herb and requested color pictures. He told me it was going to cost me more. I told him to send the bill to Wolfram and Hart. They bring me Hell on earth, they can pay the bill. I spent the day watching her. She picked at pizza for lunch this time. Xander brought it. I want to pummel him. He's her white knight; he should see that she's so drastically not herself. He was supposed to make things right for her when I couldn't. As much as I used to dislike Xander, I thought I could always count on him to take care of Buffy.
The truth is, I failed her. The Powers sent me to protect her and I couldn't. Did they have to make it so damn hard? They had to know I would fall in love with her. I dare you to spend half an hour around the old Buffy and not fall a little bit in love with her. It's impossible. It's the reason I could forgive Xander all the things he did and said. The Powers could have at least bound my soul, or made me immune to her, something. Instead they gave me an impossible task, guard her, protect her, shadow her but don't fall in love with her. Maybe the Powers just like messing with my head, because it's so much fun to see how far they can push before I break.
She left work early and went grocery shopping. She didn't buy much, some orange juice, a carton of eggs, a box of cereal and a carton of milk. I want nothing more then to take the shopping cart from her and fill it up with steaks, bread, vegetables and fruit, even some of that yogurt that I can't stand but that she used to love. She carries her bag home. I follow at a distance. She keeps her head down and doesn't meet the eyes of any of the people walking.
I want to grab her by the shoulders and shake her and scream who did this to you? The bad thing is, I'm afraid to know the answer. I'm afraid the person I want to strangle so badly is myself. I can't take all the blame. There was the matter of being pulled out of Heaven that had to have done damage. I'm willing to bet Spike caused some and preventing the end of the world time and time again has got to take its toll. I'm good at taking blame though. I've honed guilt to a fine art.
I follow her home from a distance and stand across the street. If she's true to form she'll come out in a little while dressed for patrol. She does and I follow her again, the same as I did the night before. She's like a beautiful deadly animal when she fights. There's an edge to it there never was before. She doesn't put any creativity into her fighting. She's as silent as the grave. The only sound from the fight is the meaty thud of her fists as they connect and the grunts and groans as punches land or miss. She's pure slayer. I wonder if there's anything of Buffy left buried in her.
She returns to her apartment around midnight. I am glad to see Spike isn't waiting for her. I stand in the alley for a little while, not really ready to go back to the bleak apartment. I wince inwardly when I smell cigarette smoke.
"Hello, Spike."
"Nice to see you too, Peaches. Knew you were here, smelled you last night." He says.
"Isn't that special, since you've still got the vamp senses I'm not really sure what that proves." I keep my eyes trained on Buffy's apartment building.
"What are you doing hanging 'round like a lost puppy?" Spike asks, blowing smoke in my face.
"I came to check on her." I say trying not to cough.
"Funny, never occurred to you to check on her when you were still a vamp." Spike says.
"That's none of your business."
"Funny thing, Mate, I think it is. You see Slayer and me are an item. Her interests are my interests and if you're going to waltz in here and break her bloody heart you can go on back to your fancy law firm." Spike tossed his cigarette to the ground and stepped on it. He lit up another.
"You're one to talk about breaking her heart. She's miserable and I guess you can't see it. I've been here two days and I can tell. She doesn't smile, she doesn't laugh. There's nothing about her that resembles the girl I knew." I turn and face him for the first time.
"And whose bloody fault do you think that is?" Spike roars at me. "You killed her when you left her. She walked and talked and smiled for a while but there was nothing there. And then, after we closed the Hellmouth and she came to LA, you sent her away. That was the final blow, Mate. All that's left of Buffy is the bleedin slayer. You did that to her, Peaches. So don't lecture me about not seeing her misery. I live her misery every single day. Do you know how long it was before she stopped calling out your name in the middle of sex? Three bloody years. Do you know that she still cries and says your name in her sleep? Do you even care that I'm the one that picked up all your bloody mess? Just like I've always done. Yeah she's miserable but she's not suicidal, which is a sight better then she was when I first got here."
Spike has backed me into the wall. I look over his shoulder at her building. "You should make her eat something. She's too thin. And try to get her to sleep. She's got circles under her eyes. I know you don't owe me anything, but don't tell her I'm here." I say.
Spike steps back and inhales deeply on his cigarette. "Hurt her again and I promise the only thing left they'll have to bury are scraps. She doesn't sleep because she has nightmares about you. And she won't let me stay the night. She keeps her bed so hot and do you know why? The same reason she does everything else, you. She blathered on once about you feeling like cool sheets on a warm night, or some other gibberish. She can't sleep on cool sheets. I guess it's the same reason I'm not allowed to spend the night. She might snuggle up to me in her sleep and forget it's me, not you." He tosses the butt of his cigarette to the ground. "I've got a date with Blondie. I won't tell her you're here, for now. You better damn well decide what it is your doing here though." He starts across the street.
I yell out and he turns around. "Spike, what color are her eyes?"
He looks at me like I've gone insane. "Gray, you bloody Git, just like they've always been."
*
-Buffy-
His kiss is gentle at first, probing, asking. I part my lips in answer and slip my tongue into his mouth. It's cool and gradually takes on the warmth of mine. He laps at my bottom lip and sucks at it gently. He tilts his head, deepening the kiss. I draw myself closer, wrapping my legs around his waist. He slides his hands down my back. His thumbs cut into my hips, pulling me ever closer, like he can't get enough of me. I tangle my fingers in his hair, urging him closer, one heartbeat, one breath, one soul, one body, as we always have been and ever will be.
I exhale a breathy version of his name. It sounds sweet on my lips. He pulls back, giving me time to breathe and begins nipping at my neck, taking little bites of skin. He kisses and gently licks at the mark on my neck, his mark. He takes a deep breathe, breathing me in. Somehow he slips away. The vacancy is like a physical pain.
"Come on, Buffy, catch me if you can." He says.
I stand up with a giggle. We used to play this game in the cemeteries in Sunnydale, only usually I was the hunted and he was the hunter. I chase after him. I stop and turn a full circle. I'm lost. I can't see anything for all the fog. "Angel?" I shout. There's no answer. I yell his name again, there's an edge to my voice born of panic. I put my hands out in front of me; I bend over searching the ground beneath my feet. I yell his name again. It comes out a half sob. I'm lost; he's lost, in all the fog.
"Angel!" I sit upright in bed, the scream waking me up. I glance around frantically. I'm in my apartment in Cleveland. Angel isn't here and I'm not lost in a fog. I'm pretty sure he isn't either. I take a deep breath and bury my head in my pillow. The tears leak slowly from the corners of my eyes.
Stumble Into Grace-Chapter Five
-Angel-
I woke up early to find she sleeps in late. It doesn't surprise me. Buffy has never been a morning person. I called Herb and requested color pictures. He told me it was going to cost me more. I told him to send the bill to Wolfram and Hart. They bring me Hell on earth, they can pay the bill. I spent the day watching her. She picked at pizza for lunch this time. Xander brought it. I want to pummel him. He's her white knight; he should see that she's so drastically not herself. He was supposed to make things right for her when I couldn't. As much as I used to dislike Xander, I thought I could always count on him to take care of Buffy.
The truth is, I failed her. The Powers sent me to protect her and I couldn't. Did they have to make it so damn hard? They had to know I would fall in love with her. I dare you to spend half an hour around the old Buffy and not fall a little bit in love with her. It's impossible. It's the reason I could forgive Xander all the things he did and said. The Powers could have at least bound my soul, or made me immune to her, something. Instead they gave me an impossible task, guard her, protect her, shadow her but don't fall in love with her. Maybe the Powers just like messing with my head, because it's so much fun to see how far they can push before I break.
She left work early and went grocery shopping. She didn't buy much, some orange juice, a carton of eggs, a box of cereal and a carton of milk. I want nothing more then to take the shopping cart from her and fill it up with steaks, bread, vegetables and fruit, even some of that yogurt that I can't stand but that she used to love. She carries her bag home. I follow at a distance. She keeps her head down and doesn't meet the eyes of any of the people walking.
I want to grab her by the shoulders and shake her and scream who did this to you? The bad thing is, I'm afraid to know the answer. I'm afraid the person I want to strangle so badly is myself. I can't take all the blame. There was the matter of being pulled out of Heaven that had to have done damage. I'm willing to bet Spike caused some and preventing the end of the world time and time again has got to take its toll. I'm good at taking blame though. I've honed guilt to a fine art.
I follow her home from a distance and stand across the street. If she's true to form she'll come out in a little while dressed for patrol. She does and I follow her again, the same as I did the night before. She's like a beautiful deadly animal when she fights. There's an edge to it there never was before. She doesn't put any creativity into her fighting. She's as silent as the grave. The only sound from the fight is the meaty thud of her fists as they connect and the grunts and groans as punches land or miss. She's pure slayer. I wonder if there's anything of Buffy left buried in her.
She returns to her apartment around midnight. I am glad to see Spike isn't waiting for her. I stand in the alley for a little while, not really ready to go back to the bleak apartment. I wince inwardly when I smell cigarette smoke.
"Hello, Spike."
"Nice to see you too, Peaches. Knew you were here, smelled you last night." He says.
"Isn't that special, since you've still got the vamp senses I'm not really sure what that proves." I keep my eyes trained on Buffy's apartment building.
"What are you doing hanging 'round like a lost puppy?" Spike asks, blowing smoke in my face.
"I came to check on her." I say trying not to cough.
"Funny, never occurred to you to check on her when you were still a vamp." Spike says.
"That's none of your business."
"Funny thing, Mate, I think it is. You see Slayer and me are an item. Her interests are my interests and if you're going to waltz in here and break her bloody heart you can go on back to your fancy law firm." Spike tossed his cigarette to the ground and stepped on it. He lit up another.
"You're one to talk about breaking her heart. She's miserable and I guess you can't see it. I've been here two days and I can tell. She doesn't smile, she doesn't laugh. There's nothing about her that resembles the girl I knew." I turn and face him for the first time.
"And whose bloody fault do you think that is?" Spike roars at me. "You killed her when you left her. She walked and talked and smiled for a while but there was nothing there. And then, after we closed the Hellmouth and she came to LA, you sent her away. That was the final blow, Mate. All that's left of Buffy is the bleedin slayer. You did that to her, Peaches. So don't lecture me about not seeing her misery. I live her misery every single day. Do you know how long it was before she stopped calling out your name in the middle of sex? Three bloody years. Do you know that she still cries and says your name in her sleep? Do you even care that I'm the one that picked up all your bloody mess? Just like I've always done. Yeah she's miserable but she's not suicidal, which is a sight better then she was when I first got here."
Spike has backed me into the wall. I look over his shoulder at her building. "You should make her eat something. She's too thin. And try to get her to sleep. She's got circles under her eyes. I know you don't owe me anything, but don't tell her I'm here." I say.
Spike steps back and inhales deeply on his cigarette. "Hurt her again and I promise the only thing left they'll have to bury are scraps. She doesn't sleep because she has nightmares about you. And she won't let me stay the night. She keeps her bed so hot and do you know why? The same reason she does everything else, you. She blathered on once about you feeling like cool sheets on a warm night, or some other gibberish. She can't sleep on cool sheets. I guess it's the same reason I'm not allowed to spend the night. She might snuggle up to me in her sleep and forget it's me, not you." He tosses the butt of his cigarette to the ground. "I've got a date with Blondie. I won't tell her you're here, for now. You better damn well decide what it is your doing here though." He starts across the street.
I yell out and he turns around. "Spike, what color are her eyes?"
He looks at me like I've gone insane. "Gray, you bloody Git, just like they've always been."
*
-Buffy-
His kiss is gentle at first, probing, asking. I part my lips in answer and slip my tongue into his mouth. It's cool and gradually takes on the warmth of mine. He laps at my bottom lip and sucks at it gently. He tilts his head, deepening the kiss. I draw myself closer, wrapping my legs around his waist. He slides his hands down my back. His thumbs cut into my hips, pulling me ever closer, like he can't get enough of me. I tangle my fingers in his hair, urging him closer, one heartbeat, one breath, one soul, one body, as we always have been and ever will be.
I exhale a breathy version of his name. It sounds sweet on my lips. He pulls back, giving me time to breathe and begins nipping at my neck, taking little bites of skin. He kisses and gently licks at the mark on my neck, his mark. He takes a deep breathe, breathing me in. Somehow he slips away. The vacancy is like a physical pain.
"Come on, Buffy, catch me if you can." He says.
I stand up with a giggle. We used to play this game in the cemeteries in Sunnydale, only usually I was the hunted and he was the hunter. I chase after him. I stop and turn a full circle. I'm lost. I can't see anything for all the fog. "Angel?" I shout. There's no answer. I yell his name again, there's an edge to my voice born of panic. I put my hands out in front of me; I bend over searching the ground beneath my feet. I yell his name again. It comes out a half sob. I'm lost; he's lost, in all the fog.
"Angel!" I sit upright in bed, the scream waking me up. I glance around frantically. I'm in my apartment in Cleveland. Angel isn't here and I'm not lost in a fog. I'm pretty sure he isn't either. I take a deep breath and bury my head in my pillow. The tears leak slowly from the corners of my eyes.