Conversations In Rome
Spoilers: This is written to follow the episode "Hole in the World" of Angel season 5. If you haven't seen the episode do not read unless you don't mind being spoiled or confused.
A/N Thanks to Ashley for helping me flesh out how I was going to write a chapter to this for a very difficult episode. Also as I have not seen or actually read many informative spoilers for the next episode, the timeline may be very screwy here. This chapter by what I felt was necessity is a bit more intrusive into the storyline then the others have been but I personally can't see it happening any other way. Also, since we didn't get an actual time for when they got to England, I'm placing their being in England early on in the night. As always this is told from Angel's point of view.
-Angel-
I can't cope with this. I can't stand here and do nothing, but that's what I have to do. Once again I'm being asked to sacrifice someone I love for the good of the world. How many times and how many ways can the Powers ask me to do this? Is a game they play? Maybe they have a betting pool on which one will make me crack. There was Cordy, and Connor and Doyle and now Fred. Somehow I think Fred is the worst of all. At least with the others the sacrifice required active participation. I was doing something productive toward saving the world. This time I have to sit and wait and stare down a damn hole in the world. I can't do this, not if I have to sit and just wait for it to happen. I've got to get out of here. I've got to do something.
"The world can go to Hell." I mutter. I almost run out of the tomb, leaving Spike to stare down at the hole in the world.
Once I'm outside the tomb I take a deep breath of night air. The cell phone in my pocket vibrates. I take it out and glance at the little screen. It tells me I have messages in my voice mail. I can't talk to them yet. I can't tell them that Fred has to die so that others will live. Wes and Gunn, they wouldn't understand. No one understands. That's not true. There is one person on this earth that has had to make these same sorts of decisions over and over again. I dial her number. She answers after a couple of rings.
"Hello," She says. She sounds distracted.
I can't speak. Unshed tears form a tight band around my throat and strangle me. I move my mouth wordlessly like a fish. Finally a sound resembling a word comes out. It's a word that is as natural to me as breathing is to a human. "Buffy,"
"Angel," Instantly all her attention is focused on the phone, on me. I can hear her intensity. "What's wrong?"
"I need you." It comes out sounding raw and hard.
"Of course. I'm on my way. I'll let you know when I know about the flight."
Her immediate agreement to come to me takes my words away. She doesn't ask why or when or where or how. She just says I'm on my way. I struggle not to fall to my knees. "No, I'm in England. The Well, tell Giles you need to get to the well."
"Hold on, Angel. I'm on my way."
The phone clicks in my ear. I smell Spike before I hear him. I turn around.
"So she's coming here, to see you?" he asks.
I nod.
Spike and I are both silent. Finally he speaks. "I'm gonna talk to I can not tell a lie boy and see if he's got a place I can lay low, stay out of sight, 'til we figure out what's next."
"Thank you, William." It's almost a whisper.
"Don't think this is a truce, just a cease fire 'til we figure this one out." Spike says before disappearing back into the tomb.
In this moment, I will take what I can get.
I don't know how long it takes for her to get there. I know there are still hours until the dawn, hours I'm grateful for. She walks into the field. The fog and moonlight caress her and for a moment I think I've fallen asleep. I fall to my knees at her feet like a penitent man at an altar. I have held back the tears to long. They will not stay away now. I bury my face in her and sob. She tangles her fingers in my hair and I smell her tears. She doesn't know why I'm crying but it makes her cry none the less.
Once I gather my wits about myself, we move to sit against a tree. I lay with my head in Buffy's lap, my eyes closed. I soak in her touch, her smell, her breath. I know I will go months, possibly years without ever feeling this way again. This is what will sustain me. Her fingers gild the features of my face. We have yet to speak any words. I open my eyes and look at her. I'm still not sure she's real, gilded in moonlight and fog as she is. I cup her cheek with my hand. She leans into the touch.
"Mine immaculate dream made breathe and skin. I've been waiting for you." I whisper.
She smiles at me. It's a special smile, it's my smile. "That's beautiful, written by some seventeenth century poet no doubt."
I shake my head slightly. "Never written, it just came to me when I see you sitting here cloaked in moonlight and fog."
Her eyes glisten with unshed tears. She leans over and brushes her lips so softly against mine that if I could not feel the warmth of her breath against my skin, I would think it was more moonlight magic. And suddenly the words 'I need you' take on an entirely different meaning.
I wrap her golden tresses around my fingers and gently tug her down to me. My mouth devours hers in a kiss that is born of need and desire, the sort of kiss you get lost in and that's the purpose. I feel her hesitate against me, her mind's last defense, and then she caves and returns my kiss with the same fervor. She presses her palm against my chest, over my heart, a heart that beats only for her. She slides her body alongside mine and then with a twist I'm lying on top of her. Her legs twine with mine. We are one being, one heart, one breath and one soul. She arches against me and I growl. Reality snaps into place and I push away from her. I take deep ragged breaths. Beside me she is doing the same thing.
"I'm sorry, Buffy. That wasn't what-"
"No, I started it. I forgot we can't do the touching each other thing without doing THE touching each other thing." Her voice trembles and encompasses so many emotions, desire, need, regret, bitterness and longing.
I shrug off my duster and fold it up into a neat pillow. I pat the ground. "Let me hold you. I'll be good, I promise." Tears sting my eyes. She bites her bottom lip, trying not to cry and nods.
We lay in the grass and I hold her and it occurs to me that nothing in this world has ever felt more right then this moment right now. I kiss the crown of her head and take a deep breath of Buffy. I close my eyes and savor the smell.
"So you gonna tell me why you're holding on to me like I'm the last thread tying you to this earth?" she whispers.
Because you are, I think. "I had to make a hard decision today." I say.
"I'm guessing this wasn't anything like the decision of which suit to wear tomorrow." She says.
I smile slightly. "No, more like save a friend or save the world."
She nods after a moment. "I hate those decisions."
It's almost dawn. At some point in my existence dawn ceased to mean the sun was rising and begin to mean Buffy was leaving, or I was leaving her. She cups my face in both her hands. She tells me everything with her eyes that her lips can not speak. I glance up at the encroaching dawn. She notices and tiptoes, kissing me lightly on the lips. She turns to go and I watch her walk away until the rising sun tickles and stings at my skin. By the time she disappears from my sight and I duck into the tomb my exposed skin is smoking.
Spoilers: This is written to follow the episode "Hole in the World" of Angel season 5. If you haven't seen the episode do not read unless you don't mind being spoiled or confused.
A/N Thanks to Ashley for helping me flesh out how I was going to write a chapter to this for a very difficult episode. Also as I have not seen or actually read many informative spoilers for the next episode, the timeline may be very screwy here. This chapter by what I felt was necessity is a bit more intrusive into the storyline then the others have been but I personally can't see it happening any other way. Also, since we didn't get an actual time for when they got to England, I'm placing their being in England early on in the night. As always this is told from Angel's point of view.
-Angel-
I can't cope with this. I can't stand here and do nothing, but that's what I have to do. Once again I'm being asked to sacrifice someone I love for the good of the world. How many times and how many ways can the Powers ask me to do this? Is a game they play? Maybe they have a betting pool on which one will make me crack. There was Cordy, and Connor and Doyle and now Fred. Somehow I think Fred is the worst of all. At least with the others the sacrifice required active participation. I was doing something productive toward saving the world. This time I have to sit and wait and stare down a damn hole in the world. I can't do this, not if I have to sit and just wait for it to happen. I've got to get out of here. I've got to do something.
"The world can go to Hell." I mutter. I almost run out of the tomb, leaving Spike to stare down at the hole in the world.
Once I'm outside the tomb I take a deep breath of night air. The cell phone in my pocket vibrates. I take it out and glance at the little screen. It tells me I have messages in my voice mail. I can't talk to them yet. I can't tell them that Fred has to die so that others will live. Wes and Gunn, they wouldn't understand. No one understands. That's not true. There is one person on this earth that has had to make these same sorts of decisions over and over again. I dial her number. She answers after a couple of rings.
"Hello," She says. She sounds distracted.
I can't speak. Unshed tears form a tight band around my throat and strangle me. I move my mouth wordlessly like a fish. Finally a sound resembling a word comes out. It's a word that is as natural to me as breathing is to a human. "Buffy,"
"Angel," Instantly all her attention is focused on the phone, on me. I can hear her intensity. "What's wrong?"
"I need you." It comes out sounding raw and hard.
"Of course. I'm on my way. I'll let you know when I know about the flight."
Her immediate agreement to come to me takes my words away. She doesn't ask why or when or where or how. She just says I'm on my way. I struggle not to fall to my knees. "No, I'm in England. The Well, tell Giles you need to get to the well."
"Hold on, Angel. I'm on my way."
The phone clicks in my ear. I smell Spike before I hear him. I turn around.
"So she's coming here, to see you?" he asks.
I nod.
Spike and I are both silent. Finally he speaks. "I'm gonna talk to I can not tell a lie boy and see if he's got a place I can lay low, stay out of sight, 'til we figure out what's next."
"Thank you, William." It's almost a whisper.
"Don't think this is a truce, just a cease fire 'til we figure this one out." Spike says before disappearing back into the tomb.
In this moment, I will take what I can get.
I don't know how long it takes for her to get there. I know there are still hours until the dawn, hours I'm grateful for. She walks into the field. The fog and moonlight caress her and for a moment I think I've fallen asleep. I fall to my knees at her feet like a penitent man at an altar. I have held back the tears to long. They will not stay away now. I bury my face in her and sob. She tangles her fingers in my hair and I smell her tears. She doesn't know why I'm crying but it makes her cry none the less.
Once I gather my wits about myself, we move to sit against a tree. I lay with my head in Buffy's lap, my eyes closed. I soak in her touch, her smell, her breath. I know I will go months, possibly years without ever feeling this way again. This is what will sustain me. Her fingers gild the features of my face. We have yet to speak any words. I open my eyes and look at her. I'm still not sure she's real, gilded in moonlight and fog as she is. I cup her cheek with my hand. She leans into the touch.
"Mine immaculate dream made breathe and skin. I've been waiting for you." I whisper.
She smiles at me. It's a special smile, it's my smile. "That's beautiful, written by some seventeenth century poet no doubt."
I shake my head slightly. "Never written, it just came to me when I see you sitting here cloaked in moonlight and fog."
Her eyes glisten with unshed tears. She leans over and brushes her lips so softly against mine that if I could not feel the warmth of her breath against my skin, I would think it was more moonlight magic. And suddenly the words 'I need you' take on an entirely different meaning.
I wrap her golden tresses around my fingers and gently tug her down to me. My mouth devours hers in a kiss that is born of need and desire, the sort of kiss you get lost in and that's the purpose. I feel her hesitate against me, her mind's last defense, and then she caves and returns my kiss with the same fervor. She presses her palm against my chest, over my heart, a heart that beats only for her. She slides her body alongside mine and then with a twist I'm lying on top of her. Her legs twine with mine. We are one being, one heart, one breath and one soul. She arches against me and I growl. Reality snaps into place and I push away from her. I take deep ragged breaths. Beside me she is doing the same thing.
"I'm sorry, Buffy. That wasn't what-"
"No, I started it. I forgot we can't do the touching each other thing without doing THE touching each other thing." Her voice trembles and encompasses so many emotions, desire, need, regret, bitterness and longing.
I shrug off my duster and fold it up into a neat pillow. I pat the ground. "Let me hold you. I'll be good, I promise." Tears sting my eyes. She bites her bottom lip, trying not to cry and nods.
We lay in the grass and I hold her and it occurs to me that nothing in this world has ever felt more right then this moment right now. I kiss the crown of her head and take a deep breath of Buffy. I close my eyes and savor the smell.
"So you gonna tell me why you're holding on to me like I'm the last thread tying you to this earth?" she whispers.
Because you are, I think. "I had to make a hard decision today." I say.
"I'm guessing this wasn't anything like the decision of which suit to wear tomorrow." She says.
I smile slightly. "No, more like save a friend or save the world."
She nods after a moment. "I hate those decisions."
It's almost dawn. At some point in my existence dawn ceased to mean the sun was rising and begin to mean Buffy was leaving, or I was leaving her. She cups my face in both her hands. She tells me everything with her eyes that her lips can not speak. I glance up at the encroaching dawn. She notices and tiptoes, kissing me lightly on the lips. She turns to go and I watch her walk away until the rising sun tickles and stings at my skin. By the time she disappears from my sight and I duck into the tomb my exposed skin is smoking.