Unintended - XVIIII
'You could be my unintended, choice to live my life extended,
You could be the one I'll always love…
I'll be there as soon as I can,
But I'm busy mending broken pieces of the life I had before.'
- Unintended by Muse
The sensation of reawakening was not unlike that of submersing oneself in a pool of murky water. Buffy's hearing was the first of her senses to return, slightly muffled but growing stronger and clearer with each passing second. After several minutes she was able to distinguish the voice that broke through the silence; Angel, softly humming a tune that was familiar to Buffy although the title for the moment evaded her.
The tips of Buffy's fingers began to tingle and she twitched them eagerly, every fibre in her body desperate once more for the thrill of activity. As her eyelids fluttered open, Buffy became increasingly aware of the unpleasant burning that formed a cocoon around her stomach. The throbbing in her ankle seemed almost distant in comparison. Her mouth dropped open and Buffy gasped for air as a sudden jolt of pain stole her breath.
"Buffy?" Angel said, desperation and hope both fighting for control within his voice. "Can you hear me?"
Buffy stared upward and slowly her eyes pulled Angel's beautiful face into focus. He was wearing a concerned frown and his cheeks seemed paler than usual if that were even possible. Buffy found herself hazily wondering if he were thirsty, but pushed the thought immediately to the back of her mind. Her trust in Angel's self control would never waver.
"Angel…" Buffy answered, grimacing as her voice left her lips as a tiny, unpleasant croak.
"You don't have to talk," Angel replied, his features now illuminating with a smile that reflected his pure joy. Angel reached out and brushed a wisp of Buffy's hair away from her forehead so gently that she may have imagined his touch.
"What happened?" Buffy asked, struggling to push herself up on her elbows. The band of pain tightened instantly around her abdomen, halting her progress before Angel could. Buffy lowered herself back onto the cot, realising for the first time that she and Angel were alone in the secret room that he had come to regard as his home.
"We were rescuing a group of soldiers from some demons and we were attacked…"
"By a giant kitty cat," Buffy finished as the memories came flooding back to her on swift wings.
"Willow and my friend May have patched you up as well as they could," Angel continued, gingerly clasping Buffy's hand to his chest, "you've been pretty lucky… a few more minutes and…"
"Don't even think it," Buffy commanded, the usual ring of authority returning to her voice as her strength gathered. "Takes more than a reject from Hell's pet shop to take down this Slayer. I'm virtually indestructible…"
Buffy tailed off and gritted her teeth, inhaling sharply as a second wave of pain washed over her.
"You need to rest," Angel commanded, kissing the back of Buffy's hand before laying it down on the cot mattress at her side. Buffy pulled a face, clearly defiant, and shook her head with a little more care than she would have usually applied.
"I think I've done enough resting," she answered tartly, drawing herself up into a sitting position and beginning to lower her feet to the floor. She realised only as the sheet that had been covering her fell away that she was practically naked underneath. Buffy's cheeks and the tips of her ears grew hot as she scrabbled for the blanket and drew it up around herself almost to her chin. Angel had politely turned his back on her, allowing her privacy and himself the chance to recover his composure.
"We er… we need to find the power source…" Buffy stammered, her embarrassment making it difficult for her to meet Angel's gaze as he slowly turned to face her once more.
"That can wait. First we need to concentrate on getting you better," Angel replied firmly, his mouth open as he prepared to continue with his scolding.
"I had it, Angel," Buffy interrupted, rubbing her forehead with the palm of her hand and wincing at the thought of her own stupidity, "I had it in my hand when that thing attacked. It was a little glowing orb attached to a collar… I guess I dropped it and…"
"We were so busy trying to save you we didn't notice," Angel finished, sighing as he realised that there was no other alternative than to return to the streets as soon as Buffy's injuries would allow. The idea filled him aberrantly with fear. Having come so close to losing Buffy again had taken it's toll on the vampire's valour.
"We have to go back before it's too late," Buffy said furtively, "it's our only shot at getting out of here."
Angel nodded his agreement and heaved a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck with the palm of his hand as he paced the space next to the cot.
"I'll go back, take the soldiers with me if they're willing…" Angel began, drawing to a halt at Buffy's side and crouching down so that their eye lines drew level.
"Not without me," Buffy replied firmly. Angel opened his mouth in preparation to protest, but was soon silenced as Buffy gently laid her index finger across his lips.
"Not without me," she repeated.
Despite the severity of the situation, Angel found his lips curving upwards into a smile that brought new light to his soulful eyes.
"What?" Buffy whispered, suddenly glancing almost self-consciously around the room as though she expected to find an audience lurking in the shadows.
"I was just thinking how incredibly beautiful you are when you're determined," Angel murmured, cupping Buffy's cheek with his right hand and sighing as she nestled closer to his touch with her eyes closed. Buffy's skin was warm and soft, almost flawless in its texture. Angel traced his thumb across the defined line of her cheekbone and allowed it to rest at the corner of her mouth. Her rose pink lips pursed just a little as though excited by the proximity of his fingertips.
"Angel…" Buffy almost pleaded, her eyelids fluttering open and allowing her to gaze weakly into the eyes of her former lover. It was moments such as this one that threatened to bring Buffy's resolve crashing down around her. Her breathing quickened slightly and, despite the voice inside her head that screamed for her to stop, Buffy leaned into Angel and stole a timid kiss. She pulled away, her cheeks a little more pink than usual, and her shame written plainly across her face.
"What is there to stop us Buffy?" Angel demanded in earnest, his face now less than centimetres away from her own. Angel touched the tip of his nose to Buffy's in a romantically playful gesture, and smiled encouragingly.
"Oh I don't know Angel, say maybe, the fate of the world?" Buffy spat archly, her anger ignited by Angel's foolish lack of caution and the resulting butterflies that whirled in her stomach as though caught up in a tornado. "I hear orbs of Thessalah are hard to come by these days."
To Buffy's intense annoyance, Angel laughed. Not the quiet and embarrassed chuckle she would have expected, but a full-blown hearty guffaw that made Buffy bristle with heightened irritation.
"Buffy, do you honestly think I would have my moment of true happiness right here and now?" Angel inquired, his smile and all traces of amusement vanishing from his handsome features as rapidly as they had appeared. "I love you, more than anything I have ever encountered in this world in over two hundred years. How could you think that I would find true happiness… pure joy… when I am responsible for damning you to Hell?"
Buffy froze, her face paling suddenly as the greater meaning behind Angel's words became ever more clear in her mind.
"Hell is the one place we could be together…" Buffy whispered, fresh tears welling in her eyes. Angel was silent and unmoving, patiently awaiting Buffy's decision. If his heart were still beating, he was sure it's rhythm would now be audible to them both.
"If that's what you want… still…" Angel finally replied. His gaze dropped to the floor, allowing Buffy the privacy she should require in order to properly make her choice. For several minutes there was no response, just the loud and steady pounding of the Slayer's magnificent heartbeat echoing in Angel's ears.
Then, Buffy spoke in a voice that shook with a mixture of sheer emotion and overwhelming fatigue at the burdens that she had carried on her shoulders for so long.
"I have never wanted anything else."
The words had barely departed from Buffy's lips before Angel was at her side, his fingers grasping ribbons of her blonde hair as he pulled her face roughly to his own. They kissed, their intermingling passion suffocating them both with their desire for each other.
Angel straddled Buffy, who sank gratefully back onto the mattress of the bed and allowed the sheet to fall from her fingers. Angel breathed in her scent, enjoying it's rawness now that all but the faintest traces of her perfume had evaporated from her skin. To him, she smelled deliciously of lust and power.
Their lips crushed together repeatedly as their hands worked to peal away the layers of Angel's clothing. Buffy smoothed both palms across the surface of Angel's muscular chest and she smirked in delight as he shuddered beneath her touch. For just a moment, Angel hesitated. His eyes swept Buffy's face, which was locked in an expectant expression, and his hands came to rest gently on her waist.
"Are you sure, my love?" Angel pressed, still panting from his previous exertion. Buffy frowned a little, and nodded.
"If we make it out of here, this can't happen again," Angel persisted, allowing the weight of his words to sink in before continuing, "are you sure this one moment is worth the lifetime of heartache that may follow because of it?"
Buffy was silent, stretching her fingertips up in order to stroke Angel's brow in a moment of tender refrain. She knew that she should end this so that her friends would never be hurt by the discovery of such a betrayal, and before her own heart allowed itself to believe that these changes could be permanent. But for once, Buffy longed to be selfish and, in the arms of the man she had loved since her sixteenth year, she found it difficult to deny either of them this moment.
Buffy's only reply was her hungry kiss.