The Angel Chronicles

Buffy

I See You

Angel shifted uncomfortably in the car. He kept worrying that sunlight would creep into it and that he would be, for lack of a better term, history. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, so tightly that you could tell that his knuckles were white. Even thought the rest of his skin was pretty pale to begin with. What could possibly be worth this?

He didn't trust the blacked out window. But maybe that was the reason that he took the car in the first place. He didn't really care if he died right here and now, burned up because there was a spot that had been missed on the side window, or because the paint layer wasn't thick enough. He could and he wouldn't be too bothered, it was just hell that wasn't to look forward to. Then again, this is hell too.

It was just curiosity that kept him alive now. Curiosity about exactly what Whistler thought was going to change his mind about the whole living on earth as the tortured vampire with a soul. Way he saw it was that he got the bad deal, no matter what bonuses you add in or what angle you judge it from. I guess it is better now that I don't have to eat rat's blood anymore. I've moved up a step to pig's blood.

He stopped the car at where Whistler had described him to stop it and slowly rolled down the window of the old car with the small knob that was all that remained of the winder. He peered out of the car, blinking a few times as he wasn't used to the sunlight. He hadn't been in indirect sunlight for fifty years and it was obvious. Almost forgot how bright it was... And how hot it was.

After a few seconds he could see a pretty young blonde girl who was surrounded by a bunch of other blonde girls and talking in a sarcastic tone of voice. The other girls were obviously hanging on her every word and he was fascinated at how this beautiful girl had managed to get their attention so much. They're like followers crowding around a god.

After mention of a guy (Tyler) that was obviously in a relationship with the girl he sunk into his seat slightly. Obviously she would be seeing a guy and going out with a guy. I mean look at her. Just look at her. He quirked his head slightly as she spoke some slang but he got the gist that she was saying that that guy and her weren't going out anymore. Hey, looking up slightly.

Then of course that disappeared when he heard that she was willing to take him back and he just sunk into his seat again and left his shoulders up so that they were somewhere near his ears. Classic defensive pose. Things not looking so up again. But would I actually expect a girl like that to consider... Well, me. A vampire. There would be no way that we could ever... Be anything. But that doesn't stop me wanting it.

The girl marched up the stairs before sitting on the top step and taking her jacket off. Angel was kind of glad, the bright pink was really hurting his eyes. She sat there, sucking on her lollipop until an elderly, chubby man approached her. I'm using chubby in the broadest sense here. He's more... rounded out. Angel felt a pang in his stomach. He's a watcher. He has to be. That means... The girl's a slayer. Well, Whistler didn't mention that.

The watcher... He called her Buffy Summers. Buffy Summers. Buffy Summers. Buffy. What a strange name, strange yet... Interesting.

Angel continued to listen and grimaced when Buffy proclaimed to lack a destiny. Maybe before she didn't. But that was before and this was... well, now. Why does she have to be the slayer? She's too young. It isn't fair. She shouldn't have to deal with the things out there, the things that haunt the night. In other words, things like me. She isn't ready yet. She'll get hurt. She'll get killed. She can't.

At the watcher's mention of the 'vampires' and Buffy's reaction Angel grimaced once again. She isn't ready.

Then, after much persuasion, the watcher led her into the gym to talk to her and possibly show evidence (throwing knives at her head anyone?).

She isn't ready. Angel thought and then wound up the window and drove away with that thought always in his mind.

Initial Meetings

Angel saw Buffy walking, alone and he knew that this was the moment. This was the moment when he would meet her for the first time. Or, she would meet him the first time. Finally he wouldn't have to stalk her through the shadows, he could just confront her and talk. Face to face. Or not, he thought as he turned into a dead end alleyway, having lost her.

He stepped into the blue light and looked around. Maybe she doubled back without my knowing it… He thought as he walked into the alleyway. Then he heard a whoosh and his only thought before tumbling forward into a roll was, What the-?

He got up and turned to see the Slayer standing there and felt his lips pull back into a smirk. He couldn't help it, it was an automatic thing now. He could probably blame Whistler for that. But he wasn't around to blame was he. His mind was wandering while banter was coming from his mouth. Was it banter or flirting? He had no idea, it had been a while and his old version of flirting wasn't so up to date he realised.

"To kill them. To kill them all." He said, his eyebrows going up and the smirk planted firmly on his face. To that Buffy didn't react exactly the way he'd expected. But he hid his surprise and reasoned that with her getting expelled and having to move and probably blaming her parent's divorce on her slaying she wanted to get as far away from it as possible. He didn't blame her. But she couldn't change what she was as much as he couldn't change what he was.

He reached into his jacket for the velvet box that Whistler had given him to give Buffy. He threw it at her and she caught it and opened it. He saw her get the look that she always got when Tyler gave her a piece of jewellery. She'd get the look shortly before throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him but that obviously didn't happen. He swallowed down the swell of feelings and left quickly. He didn't need this. But he couldn't stop one thought creeping out.

She isn't ready.

Pangs

Angel looked up at Buffy's dorm window and felt a wave of unbridled emotion wash over him. He couldn't help it. He remembered all the previous times it had been like this, him watching her without her knowledge, like it was yesterday.

Something else that he could remember like it was yesterday was back when he didn't have a soul and he used to murder and maim with Darla, Spike and Dru. Back then love didn't mean anything. Love was something that was useful to him, it made him job of torturing men easily. It always seemed to tear their hearts out if they watched their loved ones die, screaming in front of them and it intrigued Angel. He never used to get why people would want to fall in love. It always seemed so painful. But when he first saw Buffy it occurred to him why.

It was something you couldn't control. Trying to control it was impossible. And also something that he thought when he had a lack of soul was true. Love was hurt, and pain, and everything else. Being so worried that the one person you loved, and knew you would love for the rest of your life would be gone. He loved Buffy so much that his cold heart ached with it and he would lie in bed in LA with his body wracked with pain.

When Doyle found that picture of her Angel felt something he hadn't for a long time. Blood lust. Wanting to lose himself in a kill. To forget about everything except the feeling of someone's life seeping away in your hands. To feel like a god, like he'd told Faith. Seeing Buffy brought everything back. He felt the pain explode in him and his thoughts meshed into one horrible mass.

Then when Doyle had a vision the better part of love came through. The feeling of having someone that held your life in their hands. Having your body, mind and soul soar every time that you saw the person. Knowing that there was one single person who could make all of the pain go away with one single touch. When Buffy kissed him he felt like his heart could start beating again. He could stay with Buffy forever, he knew this and he had a feeling that Buffy knew this too.

Sometimes when he would see her he'd feel like he was alive again. As if he was a small boy of only ten mucking around with the others in the mud until some beauty came by who would have the eyes of all boys present until she would disappear and they'd go back to playing around.

And here he was trying to protect her from some danger that would kill her. Some things would never change. And the thought that he had before disappearing into the bushes didn't change either.

She isn't ready.