e-mail: Lucey
Disclaimer: I wish I owned them...
Rating: PG
Pairing: B/A
Distribution: my lj, Denialhaven, the usual suspects. Others: ask, please!
Feedback: I'd love some
Dedication: to Leni, because it's her birthday and she's awesome *G*
Summary: She asked for B/A S2, pre-curse. So this takes place between Ted and Bad Eggs.
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She smiled when she saw him step out of the shadows, walking towards her. This was…weird. Still. Not seeing him, no. But finding him waiting for her, after he'd told her he'd be there - that was new. So far their encounters had always started with a warning he was giving her - or they had run into each other by accident. This felt different, like a…like a date.
She stopped, thinking about their one real, official first date. She had been late, her appearance ruined by a vamp that just wouldn't die and he had been busy talking to Cordelia. After bolting from the Bronze like an idiot she hadn't seen him again until Halloween. Of course something had come up again and she had been transformed into a princess, screaming like crazy when Angel had vamped out.
Later that night, well…by then things had finally been perfect. Back to her 20th century self she had finally gotten that kiss she'd craved for weeks. Kisses.
Smiling again as they came closer, she noticed that he was smiling, too. His smile…so rare on his beautiful face usually covered with worry or a mask of indifference. That smile never ceased to make her knees all wobbly and her tummy swirling with butterflies. When he smiled everything around them seemed to disappear and all she wanted to do was take in that smile, bask in its glow and memorize everything about it to remember it later.
He seemed to smile more often lately and she couldn't help but feel a little proud, sensing that it was at least partly her doing. Ever since they had defeated Spike and Drusilla, it had seemed like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He had recovered quickly and here they were, meeting in a graveyard in the middle of the night.
"Hey." He almost whispered before he leaned down to kiss her. It was a chaste kiss and already, she was craving more.
"Hey yourself." She whispered against his lips, seeking contact once more before they broke apart. "Sorry I'm late but Mom just wouldn't go to bed."
He said nothing, just looked down at her with that dark, loving eyes and waited for her to go on. During the last few weeks, while she was nursing him, he'd found out that it was better to let her talk for a few minutes, to vent, rant, let everything that bothered her out. Listening to her was never boring, no. It made him feel like he was a part of her life, living through these events with her. He would never be able to actually see her living through them, not if the things she was talking about happened during the daylight.
After she had finished talking, he once again brushed a kiss to her lips, careful not let things go too far, even if everything inside him screamed in protest. But she was the slayer, not used to not being in control and she pulled him back in once he tried to break away, seeking out his tongue with hers, coaxing and teasing.
He held her close and allowed himself a moment of weakness, gave in to her thrall and kissed her back with fervour. They attacked each other's mouths with passion and finally, after an eternity seemed to have passed, broke away, panting.
He, a vampire, panting, gasping for unneeded air…that was something he had yet to get used to.
From the second he met her, she had taken his breath away, more than he had ever thought possible and more than Darla making him a vampire ever did. When he was around her, he felt more alive than he'd ever felt for the last century. He had developed the habit of breathing without even noticing it until he kissed her and he'd found himself breathless. He had started to explore the sewers, testing how far he could go in the shadows, just hoping to get a glimpse at her, walking in the sun, talking to her friends. The image of her sitting on the steps of her old school, sucking that lollipop was forever engraved in his mind and he desperately longed to see something like that again. He had started to actively fight against his own kind, killing vampires that crossed his path.
She had killed two of his children and yet he had found himself relieved, knowing that she was alright and they were dead.
"We should really start looking for the bad guys…" she said, pulling him out his thoughts. Of course, she was right. They didn't meet for a date they were going to patrol. Finally back to his full strength there was nothing keeping him from fighting at her side, something that he'd never done before. Sure, he had helped her fight a couple of times but usually he just delivered a message and she'd be going to fight the bad guys as she called it.
He nodded, letting her go. After a few steps he realized the change in her body language. The woman walking through the night was no longer the teenage girl he'd held in his arms minutes ago, she was a huntress, scanning for prey, searching the darkness for demons and vampires. Watching her like this was amazing, but it was nothing compared to fighting at her side.
She turned around, unnecessarily checking if he was still behind her. Of course he was, she could sense him, his every move and right now she was having serious trouble to focus on something besides him. It had taken her a while to recognize and listen to the finer tunes in her slayer alarm system, to be able to make a difference between all the bad guys and the comforting presence that was Angel. But once she had gotten used to it, her belly had never disappointed her. There was nothing like the tingling sensation she felt whenever he was near. While every other vamp's signal caused her to go into instant fighting mode, his caused her to fight the constant urge to run to him and get lost in his eyes, his arms, his smile, his kiss. When he was around, her instincts no longer screamed "vampire" but something completely different, something that made her blush while she even thought about it.
After they had covered the second cemetery for the night, Angel felt some of the tension leave his body. They had already killed three vampires, fledglings barely knowing what happened to them when not only the slayer but another vampire attacked them. Still, they had given them an opportunity to let out some of that tension, sexual or otherwise. Now, he was once again focussed on her moving through the darkness. He had watched her almost every night and yet her grace never ceased to amaze him. She was a predator, a huntress relying on her instincts to lead the way. She was a ruthless killer, staking vampires after she had beaten them senseless. She was so much more and yet nothing touched him like the smile on her face, the smile she gave him after the dust had settled. Then he needed all of his strength not to pull her closer, to kiss her and show her what she did to him. He could tell that all this affected her as well; her scent lingering in the air told him everything he needed to know and that made it even harder to keep his distance, to be her ally, her backup, her partner.
She was still so young, so innocent in every sense of the word that even after months of knowing her he was afraid to see her change from that.
That night at the ice rink she had touched him, his true face and yet she hadn't shied away, her eyes brimming him love and trust. She had touched him like no one else had ever touched him before, her finger dancing over his skin, wiping away every last bit of doubt he'd had about her feelings for him. She had kissed him, manoeuvring around his fangs, pulling him closer until he finally let go of the hesitation and let her in. His instincts had screamed "Slayer!" but his soul had rejoiced and for the first time he'd let himself believe that maybe, there was a way for them to be together, that this was meant to be.
Of course something had to come along to destroy that. He had almost died during the ritual Spike had set up and yet he had always known she'd come for him, save him. While the fire was burning everything around them all he could see was her face, her eyes searching his, asking him if he was alright. She had saved him and nursed him back to health. They had met at his apartment every night; they had talked and exchanged kisses that had grown more and more passionate. And now here they were, all alone in the middle of the night. He smelled the adrenaline on her, the remnants of dust and sweat from the fight and he knew his presence affected her. On a slow night like this it wasn't easy to focus on the mission. It was hard to remind himself that he was old and she was young, that she was a creature of the light and that he belonged to the night. It was hard to remember anything while she was around and yet nothing had touched him more than her stating "I didn't even notice…" while she had caressed his face.
After that first time he hadn't kissed her again while he was…like this. She told him it didn't bother her but it bothered him. She shouldn't have to live with these complications; she deserved the normal life she so desperately wanted. When he was alone at his apartment, thinking about them there was always that voice of nagging doubt, telling him that he needed to get away from her, to not give in to his feelings for her sake. But whenever he felt her approach and knock on his door, whenever he saw her all he could think about was that this was the best he'd ever felt. He'd been doomed from the minute he saw her, he'd fallen in love with her before he even met her and this felt so right that even his self-doubt couldn't fight it forever. So he tried to control it, tried to be and act casual by lurking in the shadows and by helping her.
Only that she was no ordinary girl. She was the slayer and she was Buffy. Once they had grown closer, she seemed to be determined to not let him go again. She wouldn't allow him to disappear, he all too willingly complied and here they were.
"You're brooding again." Her voice shook him out of his thoughts.
"I was thinking…" he started but found it difficult to continue.
"Like I said." She smiled up at him, by now used to his phases of silence.
"I'm sorry…" he took her hand in his and gently rubbed it with his thumb.
Leaning against his chest, content to be close to him, Buffy sighed.
"It's ok. It's not like haven't seen it before." She turned to look up at him once again. "So, what were you thinking about?"
Touched by her smile, enthralled by her presence the words slipped out before he could stop them.
"You. Us."
Her eyes widened. He had been thinking about her? Them? Blushing, she squeaked out: "Really?"
"Really." He admitted, knowing that not it was too late to back-pedal anyway.
"What kind of thoughts?" she asked again, now curious, a part of her afraid that he was once again changing his mind about them.
"I was thinking how nice this is, patrolling together. I was thinking about how you move through the night, how you fight."
"You've seen me fight before."
"This is…different. We've never actually fought together, on purpose."
"Oh…" she nodded, remembering her earlier thoughts. "So…you think it's nice?"
Her eyes sparkled with mischief, happy to tease him, the one usually so in control that slip-ups like this needed to be cherished.
He kissed her then, long and thoroughly, letting her feel just how nice he thought this was. His teeth nibbled at her lip before his tongue begged for entrance in her mouth, longing to taste her again. She complied, standing on her tiptoes to have better access to his mouth. Instinctively, he cradled her closer, holding her up so that this could last longer, so that they could stay like this, so that this kiss could last forever. Passion sparked up and caused them to attack each other's mouths more eagerly, trying to draw out the moment until they were forced apart.
Drawing shuddering breaths on his shoulder, she was glad he still held her. This time she had been close to passing out, she was seeing stars dancing before her eyes and her knees had never felt so weak before. And yet, she found herself craving more, wanting his lips back on his and his touch and kiss to last forever.
"Are you okay?" he asked after he had regained his own unnecessary breath.
She nodded. "You know, I think breathing's highly overrated."
The kissed again, a chaste kiss, barely more than a peck on the lips but just enough…for now.
"It's getting late…maybe I should take you home."
"There doesn't seem to be much going on tonight…" she glanced around, scanning the area.
"Spike's minions are still hiding. I doubt they'll have figured out what to do by now."
"They didn't seem too smart." She agreed. "Well, fine by me."
They started walking, their hands intertwined and her head resting on his arm. Both were silent, once again lost in their thoughts.
When they entered Revello Drive Buffy found herself hesitating. As much as she needed a good night's sleep, she didn't want to go home yet. Going home meant saying goodbye to Angel. She wouldn't see him again all day and their short meetings every night were not enough.
When he first suggested that they went patrolling together, she had been confused and happy just the same. Confused about his motives, did he think she needed protection? That she couldn't handle things on her own? Happy about the opportunity to see him every night without having to think of an excuse to drop by his place. Who thought about going to the Bronze when the alternative was meeting with her boyfriend? Angel didn't exactly socialize and a part of her understood that. This, her world, wasn't his. Not the daylight part anyway. The night was all his.
So they had started to patrol together and now, after only a few nights it had felt like they had done this forever. Fighting alongside him was amazing. Sure, Willow, Xander or Giles had patrolled with her before. But Angel didn't need to be kept save, he didn't hide behind a tombstone until it was save to come out again. Angel jumped into battle eagerly, fighting with a grace and finesse she'd never witnessed before. He was the closest thing she'd ever had to an equal and the thought both thrilled and comforted her. She knew he had her back and that she could trust him to never endanger her in any way. He was the partner she had often longed for but never had. Watching him was amazing and yet, when he turned from the battle and faced her again his face morphed back to its human form and he was her sweet Angel again, the man that held her hand and was now staring at her…wait.
"You're brooding." He smiled.
"No, I was just thinking."
"I thought that was all the same."
"No, with you thinking equals brooding. I was just thinking about…" she stopped just like he did before.
His hand cupped her face, his thumb softly brushing her cheek and he gave her that look that she recognized as his "Come on, you can tell me" - face.
"Nothing, it's stupid."
He kept looking at her.
"I was thinking that I really like this, going on patrol with you. It makes me feel…saver."
He said nothing then, just cradled her closer and wrapped her in his arms and they stood there for a while, silently acknowledging that they both needed this just the same.
She, even though she was strong and always playing tough, longed for someone to keep her safe and he wanted to do just that, keep her safe and shield her from any harm. They needed each other, more so every day, and both felt the three words they were longing to say and hear on their lips. "I love you" screamed inside them and yet they just held each other close, too scared to take that final step - for now.
Was it ironic that they felt never more at ease, never more right while they were close like this - mortal enemies by nature choosing to ignore the rules. A vampire in love with a slayer…that was new territory. Obsession, yes, that one was a given with every vampire. But love? Never. A slayer loving a vampire, by thus rebelling against anything generations of slayers before had been taught. A scandal!
And yet, the desire to please tradition, to play by the rules was the furthest things from their minds. Their problems were more real, like not being able to see the man she was kissing in her mirror when she opened her eyes. Or the looming presence of the word "future" in their heads - a future that would become increasingly complicated. A 247-year-old man with a 16-year-old high-school girl, unable to take her on a normal date, hiding from her mother. These were the problems that mattered, their reality sometimes painful. So they did what they always did: they pushed every thought about that aside and focussed on what was really important: them. Whatever had brought them together, whatever the future held for them…all that mattered was "now". For all they knew tomorrow would bring another apocalypse.
Finally - or all too soon - they stood under her window, hands still intertwined.
"I guess it's good night then…" she whispered, careful not to wake her mother.
"You need your sleep." He agreed, still not letting go of her, hating himself for being so immature and needy.
"I don't wanna go to bed…" she admitted, searching his face for a reaction. "I don't wanna sleep while you're still out there, alone."
"I'm going to be okay." He assured her. "I'm not going to patrol and besides, I'm back to full strength. It's fine. But you have school tomorrow."
He knew that he was being unfair, bringing up school as an excuse for him to leave her. But after they were meeting like this every night, he realized that he was quickly running out of excuses to get her home, away from him when all he wanted to have her around longer, all night. But he didn't want to scare her with his need for her and he didn't want her life during the day to suffer only because he kept her up too late.
"Fine…" she sighed, pulling him with her while she stepped back towards the ladder leaning against the roof.
"I'm serious, Buffy." He couldn't help but smile as the familiar pout appeared on her bottom lip. God, that pout would make him do anything. But he needed to be strong now.
"So…I'll see you tomorrow night?"
"I'll be there."
She smiled, happy now hat she had something to get her through an excruciatingly boring school day tomorrow.
"Good night…" she whispered before her lips met his again, a soft whisper soon spiralling out of control again. He pulled her impossibly close now, kissing her with all the pent-up longing he felt when he thought about not seeing her for an entire day. She mewled, a soft sound of compliance and happiness against his lips and tongue and his heart jumped. By now, his mouth had warmed against hers, the heat radiating from her body seeping through his clothing and settling deep inside him. He felt her back collide with the ladder and for a moment he leaned her against it, allowing her to feel the pressure of his weight on her body, trapping her effectively with his arms. She sighed between kisses and pulled him even closer, relishing in the feel of him so close.
Finally, after long minutes he gathered his last bits of willpower and broke the kiss, taking one step back. Again, he had let things go to far. She just stood there, almost dazed, looking at him.
"Good night…" he croaked out, his voice suddenly hoarse.
"Angel…" she whispered but again, didn't continue, didn't speak the words that seemed so natural and yet so dangerous. I love you.
He let go of her hand and stroked her face lovingly one last time. One last look at her climbing up the ladder and then she was climbing through the window, giving him one last look before she turned around and closed the curtains.
Tomorrow would be a long day.
The end.