Stumble Into Grace- Chapter 10
A/N The timeline I based this on was the first airing of Graduation Day 2 (July 13, 1999) until the month and year I place this story in (October 2009)
-Buffy-
I notice Angel sitting on the park bench across from the magic shop on my way to work. I don't say anything to him, but he sees me looking. He smiles. I don't smile. I push open the door to the shop and am confronted with more blush roses then I have ever seen in my life.
"Giles, did Willow mess up a spell?" I ask glancing around the shop. There are ten different vases filled with a dozen blush roses a piece. Giles hands me a small bouquet of three blush roses and a card.
One rose for every month I was gone.
A.
I bite down on my bottom lip. I refuse to tear up. He is not going to buy me off this easy. "How long has he been sitting out there?" I ask Giles.
"He was here when I opened up the shop this morning." Giles says as he moves a vase of roses and opens a book.
"Did he say anything to you?" I ask. This is like pulling teeth.
"Good morning, I believe."
I grumble. "I don't want him in here."
There are one hundred and twenty three roses, exactly one rose for each month he was gone, including the ones I was dead for. I had lots of time to count. It was a slow day. I take one vase of roses home with me. I leave the rest at the magic shop, it's not like I could carry all of them home anyway. Angel gets up from where he has sat on the park bench all day and follows me home. I stop in front of my apartment building and turn toward him. He smiles. I scowl.
"You realize what your doing is considered stalking in almost every state?" I say.
"I wanted to make sure you got home safe." He says.
"And you were sitting outside on the park bench for what reason?" I ask.
"I need the sun." He says with a quick grin.
I roll my eyes and leave him standing on the steps while I go up to my apartment. I consider going back down there and strangling him but since he's human, well I still don't kill humans. I make myself a peanut butter sandwich and drink a glass of milk. I change into black pants, a sweater and boots. When I go downstairs for patrol, Angel is still there. He falls into step behind me. I jam my hands into the pockets of my jacket.
"Don't you eat? I mean you could go home, assuming you have one, and eat or sleep or watch TV." I snap at him.
"I grabbed something from a street vendor while you were in your apartment." He responds.
I walk too fast, purposely trying to lose him. He falls back a bit but stays within sight. Where are all the vamps, demons and other monsters when I want them? It never fails, if I don't feel like patrolling they are out in force. If I want something to pummel on they hide.
I wrap up patrol early and head back to my apartment, with Angel in tow. I see Spike sitting on the steps to my building long before I get there. It'll be interesting to see how Angel reacts to this. His reaction surprises me. He doesn't confront Spike or growl and tell him to get away from his mate, like he would have at one time. He stops several feet from the building and watches.
I fish my apartment key out of my pocket. Spike puts out his cigarette. He doesn't try to kiss me or put his arm around me, which also surprises me a bit. I would have bet money Spike would take every advantage to rub our relationship, if that's what you call it, in Angel's face.
"Looks like you've got a stalker, Luv." Spike says.
I nod and let us both into the building. "Yeah, that started this morning." We walk up two flights of stairs to my apartment. I let Spike in and shrug off my coat.
"You two talk some more?" Spike asks and throws himself down on the couch.
"Nope." I boil water for tea.
"Don't you think you should?" he says.
I turn and glare at him. "So now your Angel's champion?"
"Oh bullocks, no. Bloke's got to wonder though, don't he?"
I sigh and lean against the counter. "He'll leave on his own when he's ready. I can't make myself send him away though. Don't worry; Angel has always been good at leaving me. It's the staying he sucks at."
"Not worried a bit, Luv." Spike stands up and paces. I know he wants a cigarette. I won't let him smoke in my apartment.
"Spike, whatever you're thinking, just say it. One thing I've always appreciated about you is your outspokenness, even if it's not particularly wanted."
"Not the time, Luv. We'll discuss it later. I need a drink. I'm gonna head down to the bar. Get some sleep, Kitten." Spike says.
I walk across the room and stop him with a hand on his forearm. I peck him on the cheek and he looks surprised. "Thank you, Spike."
He winks. "Not a problem, Luv."
*
The next morning when I walk to work Angel is sitting out on the park bench again. This time he's wearing a coat at least. He smiles at me. I don't. I walk into the magic shop and there are iridescent balloons everywhere. They literally cover the ceiling in a way that actually looks very cool and planned. Giles hands me a small pink pig with a card attached to it. He never looks up from his book.
One balloon for every moment I wasn't there.
A.
"Buffy, between the balloons and the roses, we're not going to have actual room in the shop for inventory. I trust you are planning on speaking to him soon." Giles says.
"No. I'm not. He left me for ten years. A truckload of roses and balloons, and a pig that looks exactly like Mr. Gordo are not going to make up for that." I am almost yelling at Giles and I don't know why. None of this is his fault.
"Very well then. You're going to have to get rid of some of these things, and I don't mean the inventory."
I take a vase of roses out onto the sidewalk. I start handing out roses to every person walking by. I watch Angel's reaction from the corner of my eye. I expect him to be mad. Instead he's chuckling at me. That makes me mad. So I take one vase at a time down the street and into an alley that is home to several people. I give them the vases of roses. Angel just smiles at me. He is the most infuriating man.
I don't have the time or the patience to take an accurate count of balloons, but there are somewhere in the neighborhood of five hundred and eighty, so I had a little time and a little patience. Giles is busy inventorying and I help him to get my mind off Angel sitting complacently on the park bench across the street reading a book. It's probably Shakespeare or something equally as old. It's nearly dusk by the time we come to a stopping point on the inventory. I tell Giles to go home. I can lock up. He thanks me and takes the opportunity to get a bit of sleep. Sometimes I forget he's getting old. I prop open the door to the magic shop and take a broom. I bat at all the balloons, herding them out the open doorway where they float up into the sky. I stand and watch them with tears in my eyes. The pale purple of dusk comes through the iridescent of the balloons and makes everything satin shiny. I try not to notice Angel is watching me with the same intensity he always has.
I brush at the tears that gather in my eyes and go back into the magic shop. Everything is whisper quiet. It was Willow's day off so I'm the only one left here. I pick up the pig and toss him in the trash. Five minutes later I'm on my hands and knees in tears pawing through the trash. I clutch the pig to my chest and sit on the floor sobbing. Mr. Gordo was one of the things I had to leave behind in Sunnydale.
He's here. He must have been watching me from the window. I dig my fingers into the softness of his sweater and pull him to me. I don't care that I'm mad at him. I don't care that we have more things to work out then can be said. In fact, truthfully it probably wouldn't even matter if it wasn't him. It could have been Spike, or Willow or even Giles. It makes all the difference that it is him. He doesn't ask questions and his touches are tentative. At one time he would have clutched me to him with the same desperation I'm clutching the pig. He croons to me in a soft murmuring voice. I'm not even sure the words are English. He sings a lullaby to me that I know isn't English. It's soothing and sweet. It sounds old, like something mothers have sung to their babies for centuries.
I cling to him and I sob. I cry for all the things I've lost. I cry for Mom. I cry because I don't have a grave to put flowers on. I cry for all the slayers I've lost since Willow made them. I cry for Sunnydale and the memories buried in the crater that I have never gone back to see. And I cry for me, for the person I've become and the person I lost. When I finally manage to stop the waterworks we both pull away awkwardly. Angel offers a hand and helps me to my feet. I can't get used to the idea of warm Angel. He's always felt like cool sheets on a warm night. I brush my pants off and turn my back to him.
"I'm sorry." I mumble.
"No, you don't have to be sorry." He says. I hear him take a step toward me. I can almost feel his hand reach out to touch me, and then pull away. Predatory senses I guess.
I grab my bag from under the counter and stuff the pig he gave me in it. I can't say thank you. That would be like accepting him back in my life and I can't do that. I just can't. Everything inside is still so sharp and brittle. He could break it all so easy.
"Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Humpty together again." I whisper.
"What?" Angel says.
I shake my head. "It's nothing." I sigh and close my eyes. I press my hand to my forehead. Neither of us says anything for a long time.
"Come on, I'll walk you home. You don't have to talk. Just pretend I'm stalking you." He says. He doesn't reach out to take my hand, even though I can tell he wants to. He holds the door open for me and waits while I lock up.
We walk to my apartment slowly. It's cold and I can see his breath freezing in the air. I choke on tears I can't shed in front of him, not over this. I wrap my arms around myself but I don't speed up my pace. Even though it hurts, it's nice to be around him. I forgot how safe he makes me feel. It's a different from the general I'm a slayer safe I always feel. It's the kind of safe I felt at home in my own bed before I found out what goes bump in the night. The kind of safe I felt before I was a slayer.
As if by mutual agreement we stop at the door to my building. He holds the door for me but doesn't come inside the building. He watches as I start up the stairs and then turns to go back to his own place. I walk into my apartment with a sigh. I don't bother with turning on the lights. I fish the pig out of my bag and make my way in the darkness to my bedroom. I lay down on the bed clutching him. I would cry but there are no more tears. Lying there in the dark clutching a little stuffed pig, I realize something for the first time. I still feel Angel, human Angel, inside like I always did.
A/N The timeline I based this on was the first airing of Graduation Day 2 (July 13, 1999) until the month and year I place this story in (October 2009)
-Buffy-
I notice Angel sitting on the park bench across from the magic shop on my way to work. I don't say anything to him, but he sees me looking. He smiles. I don't smile. I push open the door to the shop and am confronted with more blush roses then I have ever seen in my life.
"Giles, did Willow mess up a spell?" I ask glancing around the shop. There are ten different vases filled with a dozen blush roses a piece. Giles hands me a small bouquet of three blush roses and a card.
One rose for every month I was gone.
A.
I bite down on my bottom lip. I refuse to tear up. He is not going to buy me off this easy. "How long has he been sitting out there?" I ask Giles.
"He was here when I opened up the shop this morning." Giles says as he moves a vase of roses and opens a book.
"Did he say anything to you?" I ask. This is like pulling teeth.
"Good morning, I believe."
I grumble. "I don't want him in here."
There are one hundred and twenty three roses, exactly one rose for each month he was gone, including the ones I was dead for. I had lots of time to count. It was a slow day. I take one vase of roses home with me. I leave the rest at the magic shop, it's not like I could carry all of them home anyway. Angel gets up from where he has sat on the park bench all day and follows me home. I stop in front of my apartment building and turn toward him. He smiles. I scowl.
"You realize what your doing is considered stalking in almost every state?" I say.
"I wanted to make sure you got home safe." He says.
"And you were sitting outside on the park bench for what reason?" I ask.
"I need the sun." He says with a quick grin.
I roll my eyes and leave him standing on the steps while I go up to my apartment. I consider going back down there and strangling him but since he's human, well I still don't kill humans. I make myself a peanut butter sandwich and drink a glass of milk. I change into black pants, a sweater and boots. When I go downstairs for patrol, Angel is still there. He falls into step behind me. I jam my hands into the pockets of my jacket.
"Don't you eat? I mean you could go home, assuming you have one, and eat or sleep or watch TV." I snap at him.
"I grabbed something from a street vendor while you were in your apartment." He responds.
I walk too fast, purposely trying to lose him. He falls back a bit but stays within sight. Where are all the vamps, demons and other monsters when I want them? It never fails, if I don't feel like patrolling they are out in force. If I want something to pummel on they hide.
I wrap up patrol early and head back to my apartment, with Angel in tow. I see Spike sitting on the steps to my building long before I get there. It'll be interesting to see how Angel reacts to this. His reaction surprises me. He doesn't confront Spike or growl and tell him to get away from his mate, like he would have at one time. He stops several feet from the building and watches.
I fish my apartment key out of my pocket. Spike puts out his cigarette. He doesn't try to kiss me or put his arm around me, which also surprises me a bit. I would have bet money Spike would take every advantage to rub our relationship, if that's what you call it, in Angel's face.
"Looks like you've got a stalker, Luv." Spike says.
I nod and let us both into the building. "Yeah, that started this morning." We walk up two flights of stairs to my apartment. I let Spike in and shrug off my coat.
"You two talk some more?" Spike asks and throws himself down on the couch.
"Nope." I boil water for tea.
"Don't you think you should?" he says.
I turn and glare at him. "So now your Angel's champion?"
"Oh bullocks, no. Bloke's got to wonder though, don't he?"
I sigh and lean against the counter. "He'll leave on his own when he's ready. I can't make myself send him away though. Don't worry; Angel has always been good at leaving me. It's the staying he sucks at."
"Not worried a bit, Luv." Spike stands up and paces. I know he wants a cigarette. I won't let him smoke in my apartment.
"Spike, whatever you're thinking, just say it. One thing I've always appreciated about you is your outspokenness, even if it's not particularly wanted."
"Not the time, Luv. We'll discuss it later. I need a drink. I'm gonna head down to the bar. Get some sleep, Kitten." Spike says.
I walk across the room and stop him with a hand on his forearm. I peck him on the cheek and he looks surprised. "Thank you, Spike."
He winks. "Not a problem, Luv."
*
The next morning when I walk to work Angel is sitting out on the park bench again. This time he's wearing a coat at least. He smiles at me. I don't. I walk into the magic shop and there are iridescent balloons everywhere. They literally cover the ceiling in a way that actually looks very cool and planned. Giles hands me a small pink pig with a card attached to it. He never looks up from his book.
One balloon for every moment I wasn't there.
A.
"Buffy, between the balloons and the roses, we're not going to have actual room in the shop for inventory. I trust you are planning on speaking to him soon." Giles says.
"No. I'm not. He left me for ten years. A truckload of roses and balloons, and a pig that looks exactly like Mr. Gordo are not going to make up for that." I am almost yelling at Giles and I don't know why. None of this is his fault.
"Very well then. You're going to have to get rid of some of these things, and I don't mean the inventory."
I take a vase of roses out onto the sidewalk. I start handing out roses to every person walking by. I watch Angel's reaction from the corner of my eye. I expect him to be mad. Instead he's chuckling at me. That makes me mad. So I take one vase at a time down the street and into an alley that is home to several people. I give them the vases of roses. Angel just smiles at me. He is the most infuriating man.
I don't have the time or the patience to take an accurate count of balloons, but there are somewhere in the neighborhood of five hundred and eighty, so I had a little time and a little patience. Giles is busy inventorying and I help him to get my mind off Angel sitting complacently on the park bench across the street reading a book. It's probably Shakespeare or something equally as old. It's nearly dusk by the time we come to a stopping point on the inventory. I tell Giles to go home. I can lock up. He thanks me and takes the opportunity to get a bit of sleep. Sometimes I forget he's getting old. I prop open the door to the magic shop and take a broom. I bat at all the balloons, herding them out the open doorway where they float up into the sky. I stand and watch them with tears in my eyes. The pale purple of dusk comes through the iridescent of the balloons and makes everything satin shiny. I try not to notice Angel is watching me with the same intensity he always has.
I brush at the tears that gather in my eyes and go back into the magic shop. Everything is whisper quiet. It was Willow's day off so I'm the only one left here. I pick up the pig and toss him in the trash. Five minutes later I'm on my hands and knees in tears pawing through the trash. I clutch the pig to my chest and sit on the floor sobbing. Mr. Gordo was one of the things I had to leave behind in Sunnydale.
He's here. He must have been watching me from the window. I dig my fingers into the softness of his sweater and pull him to me. I don't care that I'm mad at him. I don't care that we have more things to work out then can be said. In fact, truthfully it probably wouldn't even matter if it wasn't him. It could have been Spike, or Willow or even Giles. It makes all the difference that it is him. He doesn't ask questions and his touches are tentative. At one time he would have clutched me to him with the same desperation I'm clutching the pig. He croons to me in a soft murmuring voice. I'm not even sure the words are English. He sings a lullaby to me that I know isn't English. It's soothing and sweet. It sounds old, like something mothers have sung to their babies for centuries.
I cling to him and I sob. I cry for all the things I've lost. I cry for Mom. I cry because I don't have a grave to put flowers on. I cry for all the slayers I've lost since Willow made them. I cry for Sunnydale and the memories buried in the crater that I have never gone back to see. And I cry for me, for the person I've become and the person I lost. When I finally manage to stop the waterworks we both pull away awkwardly. Angel offers a hand and helps me to my feet. I can't get used to the idea of warm Angel. He's always felt like cool sheets on a warm night. I brush my pants off and turn my back to him.
"I'm sorry." I mumble.
"No, you don't have to be sorry." He says. I hear him take a step toward me. I can almost feel his hand reach out to touch me, and then pull away. Predatory senses I guess.
I grab my bag from under the counter and stuff the pig he gave me in it. I can't say thank you. That would be like accepting him back in my life and I can't do that. I just can't. Everything inside is still so sharp and brittle. He could break it all so easy.
"Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Humpty together again." I whisper.
"What?" Angel says.
I shake my head. "It's nothing." I sigh and close my eyes. I press my hand to my forehead. Neither of us says anything for a long time.
"Come on, I'll walk you home. You don't have to talk. Just pretend I'm stalking you." He says. He doesn't reach out to take my hand, even though I can tell he wants to. He holds the door open for me and waits while I lock up.
We walk to my apartment slowly. It's cold and I can see his breath freezing in the air. I choke on tears I can't shed in front of him, not over this. I wrap my arms around myself but I don't speed up my pace. Even though it hurts, it's nice to be around him. I forgot how safe he makes me feel. It's a different from the general I'm a slayer safe I always feel. It's the kind of safe I felt at home in my own bed before I found out what goes bump in the night. The kind of safe I felt before I was a slayer.
As if by mutual agreement we stop at the door to my building. He holds the door for me but doesn't come inside the building. He watches as I start up the stairs and then turns to go back to his own place. I walk into my apartment with a sigh. I don't bother with turning on the lights. I fish the pig out of my bag and make my way in the darkness to my bedroom. I lay down on the bed clutching him. I would cry but there are no more tears. Lying there in the dark clutching a little stuffed pig, I realize something for the first time. I still feel Angel, human Angel, inside like I always did.