Buffy had a fitful nights sleep. Blankets tangled between her legs
and pillows heaped in mountains that she tore and rebuilt, trying
desperately to get comfortable. Tightly, she closed her eyes and sighed,
the after affects of the night taking their toll. Vampire didn't run in
packs, they were solitary predators of the kill, or at least, that's what
she had thought. But as Riley had said, the count of the Bloodlust was a
rough count of 500. She had beaten hell gods, mutant science experiments,
evil mayors and even Angelus. The one constant between the big bads were
the vampires, and now they were becoming to much. Again she rolled over
and her thoughts gave into the subject that had been nibbling on her mind
for hours.
Connor.
Not only was the boy a miracle child from Angel and Darla, but he had ran a way in the midst of battle. Leaving her alone, to fight off more vampires then she was comfortable fighting all by her lonesome. Giving one last sigh of a loss of sleep, she threw the covers off and stretched. The windows were peeked open enough to allow the last light of the moon to filter in. Unnerved by the unusual silence, she quietly made her way to the door, and creaked it open, peeking out before stepping out into the darkened hall. Shadows played on the rug, dancing to a haunting song of wind that was orchestrated outside. The scene sent chills up her spine as she slowly tiptoed past the nameless doors to the boys room. It seemed ironic that the fear was stronger now then it was when she patrolled on the mist soaked soil of Sunnydale.
She set her hand on the cold surface of the doorknob and took in a breath. Not knowing why she was more nervous over a teenager then confronting a demon. Though in retrospect if he was a spawn of two vampires chances were he was some form of demonic being. . . With one more intake of breath she turned and entered the room.
It was sparse at best, one bed with plain white sheets and stripped pale walls that had never been bothered to be repainted. The rug was dirtied from earth that had tracked in from shoes and the one lone chair sat crooked at the side of an empty desk. Connor lay on top of the covers, headphones quite enough so that she only heard a faint hum in the air. He knew she had entered but still had his eyes closed.
"Hey." She whispered, walking a few more steps.
He peeked opened an eye and lifted one finger to pause the music. Sitting up, he watched her ease in closer toward him. "What?" His voice was edged with apprehension.
"Well," Buffy drew the chair over and placed it so she faced him. "How are you?"
His face was placid of emotion. "Ok."
"When the vampires attacked, why did you run off?" The Slayer was surprised at the bluntness she had said it with. He just stared at her.
"I told you already I'm sorry."
"That doesn't answer my question." She pointed out.
The uncomfortable nature of the situation was apparent in the way he moved. "I. . ." The stammer didn't fit with his previous attitude and Buffy was surprised at it. "That vamp, the one that had you, that was the same that killed Sam."
His answer shocked Buffy and took her a moment to process how to respond. "Sam. Riley's wife?"
The boy nodded. "I was with him when it happened, and, it. . . was my fault." His voice seemed to be quivering and Buffy suspected that if he wasn't so proud he would of cried.
"How long ago was that?" She said slowly.
He thought. "A month, maybe a month and half."
Even with all her strength Buffy couldn't reign in her anger. "That bastard." She muttered.
Connor's every flashed at her with a glimmer of interest. "What?"
"His wife passes away a month ago, and yet he still makes a move on me." It took all she had to keep from yelling.
The boy looked amused at her reaction.
"I, I have to go." She stood up, nearly breaking the chair in the process and rushed out the door. Darkness met her as she closed the door, and suddenly she didn't know what to do. Should she storm in on Riley and yell at him for hitting on her while he was still grieving for his wife? Going back to her room and just sleeping it over was no longer an option, so the only place for her to fall was in the embrace of either vampire.
Cautiously she went down the hall, not in any particular direction, just trying to walk off until dawn.
"I thought I heard someone." The voice made her turn. Cloaked beneath the dark was Angel dressed by the shadows.
"Oh, hi." She stammered again, watching as he came closer to her. She hid the sight of relief she desperately wanted to let out.
He was in front of her, and she caught her breath. "What were you talking to Connor about?" His voice was silky.
Slowly, Buffy leaned into his chest and felt his arms come to hold her. "Why he left me tonight."
Angel brushed her back. "Did you get an answer?"
"Yeah." She pulled away and rubbed her eyes. "Why didn't anyone tell me that Sam had been here?"
"I thought you knew."
She looked down. "Connor had fought beside her when she died, one of the vamps I dusted tonight was the one who killed her."
"You should tell Riley that." Angel said, and even though the emotion glazed tone he seemed to always speak with, she could see he was uncomfortable.
"How can I even talk to him now? I made a move on him so soon after he lost his wife." Buffy turned around and rushed a hand through her hair, but didn't move. "He said he loved me, how could he say he loved me?"
Angel took a step forward and spooned against her as his arms went to clasp in front of her chest. The Slayer fell back into his embrace and sighed.
"I love you." He whispered in her ear.
Buffy closed her eyes. "I know."
A/N Hey, my writings not half bad in this chapter, cool.
I heard something interesting last week. An American soldier was having an interview with someone and was asked what he missed most about home. His response was Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but his wife was taping every episode for him while he was over seas.
Connor.
Not only was the boy a miracle child from Angel and Darla, but he had ran a way in the midst of battle. Leaving her alone, to fight off more vampires then she was comfortable fighting all by her lonesome. Giving one last sigh of a loss of sleep, she threw the covers off and stretched. The windows were peeked open enough to allow the last light of the moon to filter in. Unnerved by the unusual silence, she quietly made her way to the door, and creaked it open, peeking out before stepping out into the darkened hall. Shadows played on the rug, dancing to a haunting song of wind that was orchestrated outside. The scene sent chills up her spine as she slowly tiptoed past the nameless doors to the boys room. It seemed ironic that the fear was stronger now then it was when she patrolled on the mist soaked soil of Sunnydale.
She set her hand on the cold surface of the doorknob and took in a breath. Not knowing why she was more nervous over a teenager then confronting a demon. Though in retrospect if he was a spawn of two vampires chances were he was some form of demonic being. . . With one more intake of breath she turned and entered the room.
It was sparse at best, one bed with plain white sheets and stripped pale walls that had never been bothered to be repainted. The rug was dirtied from earth that had tracked in from shoes and the one lone chair sat crooked at the side of an empty desk. Connor lay on top of the covers, headphones quite enough so that she only heard a faint hum in the air. He knew she had entered but still had his eyes closed.
"Hey." She whispered, walking a few more steps.
He peeked opened an eye and lifted one finger to pause the music. Sitting up, he watched her ease in closer toward him. "What?" His voice was edged with apprehension.
"Well," Buffy drew the chair over and placed it so she faced him. "How are you?"
His face was placid of emotion. "Ok."
"When the vampires attacked, why did you run off?" The Slayer was surprised at the bluntness she had said it with. He just stared at her.
"I told you already I'm sorry."
"That doesn't answer my question." She pointed out.
The uncomfortable nature of the situation was apparent in the way he moved. "I. . ." The stammer didn't fit with his previous attitude and Buffy was surprised at it. "That vamp, the one that had you, that was the same that killed Sam."
His answer shocked Buffy and took her a moment to process how to respond. "Sam. Riley's wife?"
The boy nodded. "I was with him when it happened, and, it. . . was my fault." His voice seemed to be quivering and Buffy suspected that if he wasn't so proud he would of cried.
"How long ago was that?" She said slowly.
He thought. "A month, maybe a month and half."
Even with all her strength Buffy couldn't reign in her anger. "That bastard." She muttered.
Connor's every flashed at her with a glimmer of interest. "What?"
"His wife passes away a month ago, and yet he still makes a move on me." It took all she had to keep from yelling.
The boy looked amused at her reaction.
"I, I have to go." She stood up, nearly breaking the chair in the process and rushed out the door. Darkness met her as she closed the door, and suddenly she didn't know what to do. Should she storm in on Riley and yell at him for hitting on her while he was still grieving for his wife? Going back to her room and just sleeping it over was no longer an option, so the only place for her to fall was in the embrace of either vampire.
Cautiously she went down the hall, not in any particular direction, just trying to walk off until dawn.
"I thought I heard someone." The voice made her turn. Cloaked beneath the dark was Angel dressed by the shadows.
"Oh, hi." She stammered again, watching as he came closer to her. She hid the sight of relief she desperately wanted to let out.
He was in front of her, and she caught her breath. "What were you talking to Connor about?" His voice was silky.
Slowly, Buffy leaned into his chest and felt his arms come to hold her. "Why he left me tonight."
Angel brushed her back. "Did you get an answer?"
"Yeah." She pulled away and rubbed her eyes. "Why didn't anyone tell me that Sam had been here?"
"I thought you knew."
She looked down. "Connor had fought beside her when she died, one of the vamps I dusted tonight was the one who killed her."
"You should tell Riley that." Angel said, and even though the emotion glazed tone he seemed to always speak with, she could see he was uncomfortable.
"How can I even talk to him now? I made a move on him so soon after he lost his wife." Buffy turned around and rushed a hand through her hair, but didn't move. "He said he loved me, how could he say he loved me?"
Angel took a step forward and spooned against her as his arms went to clasp in front of her chest. The Slayer fell back into his embrace and sighed.
"I love you." He whispered in her ear.
Buffy closed her eyes. "I know."
A/N Hey, my writings not half bad in this chapter, cool.
I heard something interesting last week. An American soldier was having an interview with someone and was asked what he missed most about home. His response was Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but his wife was taping every episode for him while he was over seas.