Blissful Encounter
Blissful Encounterby Jill
Disclaimer: nope, still don't own them
Pairing: B/A eventually
Category: Romance/Angst/Drama
Rating: PG-13 (for now)
Distribution: my site (eventually), Land of Denial, AHA-Archive, if you have
any of my stories, take it, anybody else, please tell me where it goes
Spoilers: none
Summary: completely AU, no vampires, no slayers, no Sunnydale; and I really
don't know to explain this! I seem to have a thing for AU-fic and older women
with younger men at the moment. For this fic Buffy is older than Angel - think
about the way he looked in season 1 with his leather jacket (the one he gave
Buffy) - yummy!!! She leads a more or less boring life, comfortable and he's the
bad boy, who isn't really that bad, but had a rough youth and ... well, I suppose
you have to read it to know more.
Feedback: oh yes, please!!!
Dedication: For Patrick. He's the best.
It was one of those evenings. One of those evenings where you would've
preferred to stay at home with a good glass of wine, a book or just munching
something very unhealthy in front of the TV. Instead you were forced to dress
up, paint your face, and appear in public. For job reasons. To show your face. To
get promoted if it came up.
And it was boring as hell.
The people around her were laughing, false, overly happy laughs. They were
showing their teeth, but their eyes were telling a completely different story.
Some of them were crying "I want out", others were dull with too much wine or
champagne, the rest was checking out the other sex. Trying to estimate if there
was maybe a possibilty for some hot sex in the back room or maybe in a hotel after the show was over.
It was disgusting.
With a sigh Buffy Summers leaned her back against the wall and closed her
eyes for a moment, blocking everything out. The glass of champagne felt cool
and smooth in her palm, the voices around her blurred into some unintelligible
noise. For a moment she even considered to just leave, but then the rational part
of her brain kicked in and she knew there was no chance for her to go. Her boss
would never forgive her and then Parker Abrams, the guy in the office next to
her would get the promotion she wanted so badly.
As on cue, she heard a laugh near by and opening her eyes they fell on the tall
dark-haired man, a full-bosomed brunette draped over his arm, who was talking
to Jeffrey Hollis, their boss. Slimy weasel, Buffy thought. He was trying to make
points with Jeffrey and from the way their boss was looking into the derriere of
the brunette, he was obviously succeeding.
God, what a scumbag. He was actually offering his girlfriend, who disgustingly - obviously didn't mind. Maybe she should've considered something
like that, Buffy thought for a quick moment, then in disgust, dismissed the
thought. No way she would sleep her way up the ladder. NO WAY! She was
good at her job and she would show them. And she would ignore all the lusty
looks Jeffrey Hollis was constantly giving her.
"Look at those sharks."
Buffy turned around and saw Cordelia Chase standing beside her. Cordelia was
her secretary of six years, about her own age, and the two women genuinely
liked each other, had even become some sort of friends over the years.
"Yeah," Buffy agreed, sipping from her glass. "And Abrams is the worst of
them."
Cordelia clinked her own glass with Buffy's and nodded, "He thinks he's
wonderful." She snorted, "What a jerk."
"I was just thinking about leaving," the blond sighed, leaned back against the
wall.
"Uh-huh," the brunette sipped from her drink, "Boyfriend out of town?"
Sighing for the second time, Buffy nodded, "Yeah. Business trip to Phoenix.
He'll be gone for two weeks."
"A real bummer for your love life."
"Not that I really have a lot of it to begin with," the blond remarked
sarcastically.
Cordelia raised a brow, sipped again, "Don't tell me there's nothing going on
anymore. I thought it was, how did you call it 'the real thing'? And besides, he's a
real hunk. In a boring sort of way, of course."
"Cordy," Buffy scolded gently, giving her friend and secretary a stern look. "I
can't believe you said that." But inwardly she had to admit that Cordelia was
dead right. Riley Finn, her boyfriend, was a good guy. He was a successful
financial consultant, and earning more money she could count. And he was good
looking. Every mother-in-law's dream. Tall, blond, blue-eyed, good-looking.
Buffy had been drawn to him almost instantly. He came from a wealthy
background, was born with the literal golden spoon in his mouth, had breeding,
education, and an air or world around him. And she'd thought to have finally
found her prince charming. But now, after having been with him for three years,
she knew there was a lot of show, and not a lot behind it.
Sure he would be good husband material. And they would probably have a
bunch of blond, blue-eyed children, if Riley would find the time in his busy
schedule to produce them. And her mother would be so thrilled. She was still
nagging her about grand-kids, pointing out that her biological clock was running
out soon. But God, Riley was so ... unromantic.
It wasn't really that bad. She knew him by now, knew his limitation. At least
she wouldn't have to worry about becoming disappointed with him in tewenty
years down the road.
Because he was already so disappointing.
Jesus, her life was a mess. She wasn't getting the job she wanted because
Parker Abrams was licking their boss' ass and her love life hadn't been exciting
for a long time. Either Riley was too busy, or too tired, or he wasn't even there to
actually do anything with her. It was embarrassing for a woman of her age, but
she honestly couldn't remember the last time she'd slept with a man. She sighed.
And her mother was worrying about grand-children. What a joke.
Buffy brought her glass to her lips and then almost choked on it when Cordelia
suddenly nudged her in the ribs. "What the-"
"Oh my," the brunette was fanning herself with her hand, then put it on her
chest, "look at that."
"Wha-" The word died in Buffy's mouth that suddenly felt dry as the desert.
Oh my indeed, she thought.
"Maybe the night isn't as boring as we thought," Cordy grinned at her friend.
"Talk about hunk-material."
"What are they doing here?" the blond asked in a whisper. "Do they actually
belong on this party?"
The brunette put her glass down on a near by table, then straightening her
dress, she shot Buffy another grin, "I really don't know. But whatever brought
them here, the left is mine."
Part 2
Buffy sighed, leaning heavily against her closed apartment door, then stifled a
groan when she removed her high-heels. Those three inch-shoes would be the
death of her one day. But her evening dress didn't allow anything else. She
sighed again, pushed herself off of the door. Maybe she should just buy a new
dress. But at the moment, even the thought of doing anything but lay down and
getting off her feet seemed too much.
Switching on the light, she glanced at the clock and with another groan
realised it was already past midnight. She had a meeting scheduled for eight the
next - no, correction - this morning. Great. It was just great. In one of those
fashion magazines that always lay on Cordelia's desk she'd read that you had to
sleep eight hours at least to stay young and beautiful.
Well, she was thirty-four. It was probably too late anyway.
Almost half past twelve. Buffy shook her head, thinking about Cordelia and
her crazy ideas. The brunette had all but jumped one of those men. Men! They
were no more than kids. The one Cordelia was interested in was twenty-six.
She chuckled inwardly, walking towards her bedroom. Not for the first time
she thought that it wasn't half-bad Riley was on his business-trip to Phoenix.
Tired as she was, the idea of a demanding lover ...
She paused, frowned.
Demanding lover. That was a real joke. She could think about a demanding
lover and before her inner eye rose the picture of a well built man, with dark
hair, brown eyes, and the most unnerving half-smile she'd seen her whole life.
Not that they had been able to talk a lot. Cordelia had monopolised him, but over
the brunette's head they had exchanged glances, and more than once Buffy had
felt her body tingling all over
Suddenly realising what she was thinking, she groaned and let herself fall on
her bed, groaning loudly. She was eight years his senior for Goodness' sake. She
had no business thinking about hot, steamy sex with him.
Hot steamy sex?
She closed her eyes, groaned even louder this time. She had to be more
desperate than she'd realised. She hardly knew the guy. And she had a steady
boyfriend. She had absolutely no business thinking about Angel.
Angel.
That was his name. Well, actually it was Liam. Liam Sullivan. But his friend,
Gunn, had called him Angel. And somehow it fit. There was something about
him. Not that he was really looking angelic, but under all his cool demeanor
tonight she had sensed a seriousness that was rare in a man - or a woman - his
age. He might look like a 26 year old, and he definitely had a 26 year old's body,
but his eyes were older. Much, much older. She found herself intrigued by it,
wondering what had caused this serious expression.
Standing up again, determined to force Angel out of her head, she stepped out
of her dress when the phone rang.
Frowning, because nobody ever called her at a time like this, she answered it,
"Yeah?"
"Hi, baby."
She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, then realising that the caller wouldn't
see it, she did it anyway. "Riley," she said, hoping her voice was sounding
friendly enough. It wasn't his fault that she had fantasies of another man, was it?
"Sorry to call you so late, but I tried it before and-"
"I was at a party. My boss gave it," she replied, cutting him off. She was too
tried to listen to one of his lengthy explanations why he did things or how he did
them. "Remember. I told you about it."
"Oh, yes," he said quickly, and she heard him laugh slightly. "Sorry, I forgot.
Was it successful for you?"
Successful? Was that all he cared about? How about 'did you have fun'? But
no, fun wasn't part of Riley's life. Damn, now she'd done it again. Riley was the
okay-guy. Her mother simply loved him. She was constantly asking if they
would get married soon. And until tonight she'd actually considered it. Or at
least thought it possible to find satisfaction in a marriage to Riley Finn.
Realising Riley was waiting for an answer, she tried to ignore the feeling that
meeting Angel tonight had anything to do with her decision. It was ridiculous
anyway. He was much too young for one. Besides she hadn't talked to him more
than a few words. She hardly knew the guy, for God's sake.
"Buffy, are you still there?"
Shifting her attention back to the phone-call, she ran a hand through her hair,
"Sorry. Yes, yes, it was nice."
"Good." She could hear the smile in his voice. What was wrong with her, she
wondered? He was a considerate man. Good looking. Always concerned about
her. Her mother's dream of a future son-in-law. There had to be something wrong
with her that she didn't grab her chance with him. Other women would take him
without asking twice, Joyce had told her.
"Yeah, good," she said absentmindedly, pulling off her pantyhose with her free
hand.
"Are you alright, darling?" Riley asked concerned. "You sound - tired."
"I am tired," she replied, annoyance clearly audible in her voice. Instantly
regretting it, she apologized, "I'm sorry, Riley. Yeah, I'm tired. It was a long day.
And I've got a meeting tomorrow morning. Why are you calling at this time
anyway?"
"I wanted to hear your voice," he said, and his voice sounded so sweet, so
loving, and Buffy knew she should melt and whisper something sweet in return.
And if she was a good girl, the kind her mother had wanted her to be, she would
do exactly that. As it was, all she wanted was to scream. Really loud.
Hell would freeze over before she would marry this man. He might be
wonderful, her mother might love him, but Joyce wouldn't have to marry him,
and he was also boring, boring, and boring. And if she was bored now, after only
a couple of years of having a loose relationship with him, what would she do if
she was married to him for twenty years. Probably kill him and end up in prison
with a life sentence. If she didn't kill herself first, that is.
But of course she couldn't tell him that. She couldn't tell him any of her
thoughts. Not through the phone. She would tell him. As soon as he came back.
For now she had to pretend everything was alright. "That's so nice," she said,
trying to sound pleased. "It's ... uh ... nice to hear you, too."
He chuckled, and Buffy was glad he bought her lie. "Alright. I won't keep you
any longer. Sleep tight, darling."
"Uhm ... yes. You too - honey."
She heard a click and exhaled a pent up breath she hadn't even realised she'd
been holding. At least she hadn't been forced to say anything stupid. Like 'I love
you'. But then she hadn't said it so far. Not to him. She had said I love you
though. To friends. To her mother. And to Parker Abrams.
No, she scolded herself sharply. She wouldn't think about the scumbag tonight.
She needed her sleep dearly. Thinking about Parker would only make her blood
boil in anger, and it wouldn't change anything. Certainly not the fact that he had
broken her heart, and taken her innocence in more ways than only one, taken
away all her naive dreams of life and love.
Tightening her jaw in determination, she removed the rest of her clothes, then
reached for her nightgown, and without even considering to brush her teeth, she
sank onto her bed and was asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow. Her
last thought being that she didn't have the slightest idea why Angel Sullivan had
even been on the party.
*
When Buffy was finally able to level up her legs the next day it was almost
four o'clock in the afternoon, and she was certain she felt every one of her thirtyfour years.
She leaned her head back, trying to release her pounding headache, when there
was a faint knock on her door and then Cordelia appeared in Buffy's office. She
took one look at her boss, and a knowing expression entered her eyes, "Abrams
bothering you again."
It wasn't really a question, but Buffy replied anyway. "Yeah." She released a
breath, then shook her head, wincing at the pain the single movement caused her.
"You should make an appointment with Pierro," Cordelia proposed, sitting
down on one of the free chair, studying the blond closely. "His hands are pure
magic. Your headache will disappear within minutes."
Buffy grimaced, leaned forward, "You should know."
Cordelia grinned good-naturedly, "What can I say, I'm never able to resist
him."
"Yeah, well, it wouldn't be a problem for me," the blond replied, running a
hand through her shoulder-length hair. Pierro Martinelli was a very expensive,
very talented masseur living only a few blocks away from the office. He had also
been the lover of most of his female customers. Unfortunately the fact that
women usually drooled over his dark, Italian features, had made him believe that
no woman could resist him.
Buffy couldn't deny he was attractive, but she hadn't reacted friendly when his
hands had travelled from their usual path. Since then she had avoided Pierro.
Cordelia didn't mind the guy. She liked to play with men, liked feeling womanly
and desired. Buffy liked feeling desired, too, but that didn't mean she'd let some
macho Italian touch her wherever he thought women liked to be touched.
"You know," Cordelia said, pulling back to the present. "Those dark rings
under your eyes...," she trailed off, sighed loudly. "Not very attractive. You're not
twenty anymore, Buffy. You need to take care of yourself. Being past the big 3-0
a woman can't just run around, looking her age. That way you will never meet
your knight in shining armor."
"I'm not looking for my knight in shining armor," Buffy protested. "At the
moment I'd give everything for a hot bath, a good book, and a glass of dry wine."
"You can't deceive me, girlfriend. You *are* looking for your knight in shining
armor. For a while you thought Riley might be the guy, but obviously you've
woken up in time. But that doesn't mean you've given up looking for him."
Rubbing her tired eyes, Buffy gave Cordelia a smile. She had once considered
it might not be wise to be a friend and a boss at the same time. But they had
liked each other from the start and the blond hadn't been able to keep their
relationship strictly business. Cordelia might have her flaws and faults, but she
was refreshingly blunt, had a wonderful sense of humor, and was loyal to the
core. Buffy knew she could trust her with blind eyes and friends like her didn't
run around in bunches.
Trying to change the subject, Buffy smiled again, "What happened with your
hunk last night?" she asked, trying to ignore the heat spreading through her
whole body when Angel's image flickered through her mind.
"Boring," the brunette answered, releasing a heartfelt sigh.
"Boring?"
"Yeah. Boring."
"Why?" Buffy asked, more than just a little bit puzzled. Cordelia had been
quite smitten by Angel. So what had happened?
The brunette shrugged, "He ... uh ... wasn't interested."
"Oh?" That was something new. Men were always interested in Cordelia.
Buffy felt something stir inside of her, and tried to pretend she wasn't glad Angel
had turned Cordy down.
Suddenly the brunette grinned, "No, he wasn't," she said, "But you know what?
I'm pretty sure he's interested in you."
"Me?" The blond was glad her voice didn't sound too excited. Dammit, what
the hell was the matter with her? Why was it suddenly so important if Angel was
interested in her?
"Yeah, you," Cordelia replied, not at all fooled. "He couldn't stop talking about
you." She rolled her eyes, "It's not very flattering, you know."
"I'm sorry," Buffy said, feeling anything but
"Yeah, sure," the brunette snorted, but then grinned again. "Hey, maybe the
guy's your knight in shining armor," she said suddenly.
"Oh, please!," now it was for the blond to roll her eyes, "The guy's far too
young for me. I could be his mother."
Cordelia snorted again, "Hardly. He's twenty-six, going to be twenty-seven
next month. Your birthday was last month. It's only seven years. That's nothing."
Her grin widened when she saw the expression on Buffy's face. "Besides," she
went on, "Even if he isn't your knight in shining armor. He's a hunk. And I
wouldn't let him get away if he was interested in me. Nothing but hot, steamy
sex to make you relax."
"Hot, steamy ...," Buffy almost choked on the words, then guiltily had to admit
she'd had had the same thoughts only last night. "I hardly know the guy, Cordy,"
she said evasively.
"I know," the brunette beamed. "That's why I gave him your private number.
And I told him you had only free evenings the whole week."
In response the blond stared at her as if she wasn't able to believe this was
really happening. "You, what?" she asked incredulously.
Cordelia stood up, and walking to the door she tossed over her shoulder, "I just
knew you'd be eternally grateful. Maybe you should check your dresser tonight.
You know, just in case. " With that she slipped from the room.
Letting her upper body slump over her desk, Buffy groaned.
Part 3
"Hi."
Buffy did a double take, stared at the man in front of her. "H-hi," she
stammered, wide-eyed, glad she had the door-frame to hold onto. She wasn't
sure she wouldn't faint any moment.
He frowned, looked down for a moment, but she had already seen the faint
flush of embarrassment. When his head came up again, he cleared his throat. "I
... uh ... You probably don't remember me..."
**What? Not remember him?**
"... but ... we ... uh ... met, well, kinda. At that party. You know, the one where
you attended with your friend. Cordelia."
**So he did remember Cordy's name.**
"Ah. I mean ... uh ... I do. Remember, I mean." **God, and maybe I should just
shoot myself. Now he thinks I'm some idiot who can't form a coherent
sentence.** She didn't even want to contemplate what might have happened
hadn't Cordelia warned her in advance.
"Oh." He seemed relieved. "That's good." A little laugh escaped his lips, but
his eyes were still serious, and - as she'd seen before - much too old for a face
that young. "I'm Liam. Liam Sullivan."
"I know. Angel," she replied, smiling too.
He rolled his eyes, "I'm sorry you ever heard that," he told her. "Gunn likes to
use it." He sighed. "Still."
Her brows quirked curiously, "Still?"
"Uh-huh. My mother used to ... uhm ... call me Angel." Again embarrassment
showed on his face, and Buffy found herself irresistibly drawn to it. "Gunn used
it to tease me. Then it stuck."
She nodded. "I think it fits."
Again he rolled his eyes. "Well, if you really like it...," he let the words trail
off, but the message was clear. He'd just given her permission to use that name.
Suddenly he seemed to remind himself where they were. He in front of her
apartment door, she inside. "I ... uh ... didn't want to disturb you. But I ... uh ...
wanted to see you again. And as Cordelia only gave me your address...," he gave
her an apologetic smile.
**Smooth move, Chase, very smooth. Don't give him my phone-number. Give
him my address instead.**
**Address?** She frowned. "Cordy told me she gave you my private number."
"No, she didn't," he insisted. "She gave me your address."
**Just wait, Chase. You're going to pay for this.** "Oh."
"Yeah. Uh ... I really don't ... I mean..." He took a step back.
"No," she said quickly. **Can you be more obvious**, she groaned inwardly.
Hoping her voice sounded casual, she added, "You don't have to leave. Do you
want to come in? Maybe have a cup of coffee?"
**Oh yeah, very smart, Summers, invite strange men into your apartment.**
His eyes lit up. "I'd like that."
**Uh-huh.** "Well, then ...," she made an inviting gesture, and he stepped
over the threshold.
"Nice," he commented once he was inside and looked around. "Seems you're
doing well."
She laughed, and when she saw him looking at her quizzically, she grinned,
"You sounded like my mother. 'You're doing well for yourself, Buffy.'"
He grinned, too, and it made her heartbeat speed up. "I see. Well, if it's any
help, my mother only rolls her eyes and I'm sure each Sunday she lights a candle
to pray for me."
She laughed out loud. "You want coffee?"
"Not really. It makes me jumpy. So I'm restricting myself to two cups in the
morning. Do you have a glass of wine?"
"White or red?"
"Red," came his prompt answer.
She smiled, "Red it is. Come on, there's the living-room. Sit down. I'll be back
in a moment."
She had to hold onto the counter in her small kitchen, while she took several
deep breaths to calm down.
**Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.**
He was here. Right here. In her apartment. She felt her knees wobble and
tightened her grip. It wouldn't really help if she'd pass out now
Hyperventilating.
He was sitting in her living-room.
Waiting for her to come back.
Pulling herself together she found two glasses and the bottle she'd been
looking for and taking a deep breath, she managed to smile when she entered the
living-room a few minutes after she'd left him there. "Here you go," she
announced her presence, putting down the glasses on the small table, filled them.
He stood at the other end of the room, looked up from the painting he was
studying. "Nice," he commented, turning slowly back to her.
Nice wasn't quite the word she'd use for the disturbing composition of dark
colours. But she had always loved the painting. Her step-father had given it to
her a long time ago. "Thanks." She picked up one glass and handed it to him.
She didn't know why she was disappointed by his remark about the painting.
Maybe because she had seen more in his serious eyes, more depth. She shrugged
inwardly. It wouldn't be the first time she'd been wrong. She usually dismissed
mistakes like that. Strangely, this time, she couldn't.
He took the glass and nodded. "You surprised me tonight," he said, glancing at
the painting for one last time.
"I did? Why?"
He gave her a little cryptic smile, but didn't answer her question. Sipping from
his wine, he looked at her. "Is Cordelia your friend?"
"Yeah," she confirmed, taking her own glass from the table. "Why?"
He shrugged. "You don't seem very much alike, that's all."
A grin appeared on her face, "You're not the first who said that. All my friends
think the same. But Cordy is a great secretary, a wonderful friend and ... good for
me. I'm sometimes too ... how would she call it. 'Too uptight.'"
His eyes rested on her face for a moment, then he slowly shook his head, "No.
I can't see that."
"And you know me - since when?" She sipped from her wine, waiting for his
answer.
He shrugged, "True. I don't know you very well. But I know people. I've
learned to see what's behind the facade." He paused, then added, "I had to."
She wanted to ask what it meant, but didn't want to intrude. "So you like the
picture," she returned to their former subject, nodding at the painting hanging at
the opposite wall.
"Yeah." He looked at it again. "It's disturbing. Wild. The stuff some nightmares
are made off."
So he did have depth, she thought, and tried to ignore the joy she felt, that
there was more to him after all. "I've always felt the same," she told him, gazing
at the painting as well. "I think it's wonderful."
"It is," he agreed.
Suddenly he seemed uncomfortable, quickly turning away from the picture, his
shoulders tense, his eyes guarded. "Do you know the artist?" he asked.
"My step-father. He was ... a wonderful man."
"Was?"
"He died three years ago," she told him, her eyes sad. "He was the best father a
girl could wish for. But secretive where his past was concerned. Given the things
he painted, I'd say it wasn't a happy one."
"No, probably not." His eyes were even more serious now. "It happens."
Why did she have the feeling he wasn't talking about her step-father anymore?
"Yours, too?" The question was out before she could stop it. "I'm sorry," she said
quickly. "You don't have to answer that. We don't know each other good
enough."
He smiled slowly, and Buffy felt her insides flutter. "True. But usually you
change that by asking questions. So, to answer yours. I don't mind it, by the way.
No, my past wasn't happy either. My mother died when I was still little. I was
four. My father," he shrugged, his eyes cold, "wasn't really worth being called
one."
"Do you have brothers or sisters?" she asked.
"A sister. She's two years younger," he replied. "And a step-brother. My father
married again when I was twelve. His new wife already had a son."
*His* wife. Not *my step-mother*, she thought. "You didn't like her very
much, I gather."
He smiled approvingly, "No, I didn't. Neither her, nor her son. He was six
years older."
"Maybe he was jealous."
He shrugged again, "Whatever. I didn't care enough to try to understand him."
It was a lie, Buffy realised instantly. She really didn't know him well enough,
but Angel just didn't seem like a guy who didn't care. Whatever had happened
between the two boys, it must have been bad. And had been enough to initiate a
dislike for life. But she saw the shuttered expression on his face, and was wise
enough not to ask. Maybe one day he would tell her.
**Oh yeah. Now you're losing your mind, Summers. How can you assume
there will be a next time? Maybe he's lost interest already.**
Not liking the way her thoughts were taking, she quickly changed the subject
again. "Do you like art? I mean, not just this painting. In general."
"Yeah," he nodded, obviously relieved she hadn't tried to dug deeper. "I do. I ...
uh ... paint a little myself."
Her eyes lit up. "You do? What kind of stuff?"
"Oil mostly," he answered. "But I'm not nearly as good as your step-father was.
Neither am I as talented. It's just for fun. I can relax."
"I'd like to see your paintings if you don't mind," she said impulsively.
Again, she saw embarrassment. "You do? Uhm ... well, alright. But ... don't
expect anything. It's really ... just for fun."
Shockingly, Buffy realised she wanted to kiss him. **Down, Summers. You
don't know the guy. You've only seen him twice.** Okay, so some people didn't
need that long for a kiss. But she wasn't some people. She'd never managed to be
a true modern woman where intimacy was concerned. It didn't mean she was
uptight either, although Cordelia thought she was. She had a boyfriend after all.
And she'd had sex before. But she liked to know her sex partners, not jump their
bones on the first date.
**Date?** He'd been standing in front of her apartment. She'd invited him in.
That didn't count for a date, did it? Grudgingly, she had to admit that she wanted
it to be a date. And then remembered something she'd wanted to know ever since
she'd seen him at the party. "Angel?" She saw him wince at his nickname, and
had to grin. "May I ask you something?"
"Go ahead," he invited with a smile of his own that made her stomach do a
little flip-flop. God, he had a nice smile.
"The party. Why did you go there?"
"You mean because I didn't look as if I belonged there?" he asked, grinned
when she blushed.
"I ... uh ..."
"Hey, that's not a problem. I've never been the type for suits and ties," he said,
gesturing at his leather jacket and denims.
The outfit was perfect for him, Buffy thought, stifling a groan at the way his
denims fit snuggly. Her fantasy was already on a path of its own. "I think your
clothes are just fine," she muttered
His smile was warm and a bit more intimate than before. Buffy felt warm all
over. "So, uh ... why did you come to the party?" she asked.
"Ah. Yeah, I told you about my step-brother. We don't get along well, but
sometimes he remembers I'm around."
"Oh?"
"Mmmm. Whenever he needs my help." He saw her raise a brow, and said,
"I'm a PI."
Her eyes widened. "A private investigator?"
"Yeah."
She nodded, lost in thought for a moment, then remembered, "Your brother?
Still not explaining why your step-brother has something to do with you being at
the party?"
"He works with your company," he explained.
"He does?" **A colleague of mine is Angel's step-brother?**
"Uh-huh."
Feeling suddenly impatient, she sighed. "So are you going to tell me?"
He looked puzzled, "Tell you?"
"The name. Your brother's name."
"Oh," he chuckled. "Sorry, I thought I did. It's Abrams. Parker Abrams."
Part 4
Angel killed the engine of his Harley in front of the little house he and his
sister lived in. There was still a light in her window, so she would be up.
He had to smile. She almost never went to sleep before he was back home.
Although she was two years younger than he, she was always mothering him.
And part of it was staying up until he was home. It was a feeling that made him
warm deep inside. She cared.
Maybe it was because nobody had ever cared for them after their mother had
died. There had only been them after that, because their father had been too
drunk or too busy with women to even realise they were there. At the age of six,
Angel was able to cook and wash, and at five Kathy could do the same. They
had to, their father didn't care if they went asleep hungry or wore the same dirty
clothes for weeks.
They had cared for each other.
And when their father had married Carole Abrams, a woman Angel detested
deeply, it had only gotten worse. Nothing they did was right, and she almost
behaved as if feeding the siblings was more than she could afford. The day
Angel had become eighteen, he'd left the house and after the the terrible night of
his sister's sixteenth birthday nobody protested when he took Kathie with him.
He found a job, worked ten hours a day and went to school at night. Often he'd
fallen asleep over his books, and Kathie had woken him up, her hand stroking
his hair gently, reminding him that he would be more comfortable in bed.
Yes, they cared for each other. Deeply. Probably deeper than usual. But he
didn't care. It had not just kept them sane, in a deeper, more important way, it
had kept them alive.
He walked towards the porch, but before he could reach for the keys the door
opened and she stood there. All five feet of her, her dark hair, even darker than
his, gleaming in the lamp-light. Her smile was warm and loving, her eyes happy
to see him. "Hi, you're late," she said, stepping back to let him in.
He bent down to kiss her on the cheek, "Not too late. It's not even midnight."
She held out her hands and he shrugged out of his jacket. "What did you do?
How was work?"
She shrugged, "Fine. Wes is a great guy, he's so thoughtful."
Angel grinned inwardly at the description of her boss. Wesley Wyndham-Price
was thoughful, alright. A transplant from England, he had come to the States to
teach. Now he was a professor for English literature and history, and a year ago
Kathie had started working as his secretary. It was only a part-time job, and
exactly what she'd been looking for. She had a degree in history herself and was
currently writing her Ph.D. The job with Wesley was a way to earn money in a
field she found utterly interesting.
Lately, however, Angel had the feeling that there was more to the whole thing
than just professional interest. Kathie had started talking about Wesley more and
more. He wasn't sure if they were the ideal couple, Wesley being several years
older than his sister. But he'd met the professor and had liked him immediately.
He was a quiet, open, and a little bit shy man. Maybe just what his sister needed
after what she'd been through.
Wesley was thoughtful, alright. "So you had a good day. That's good then."
"Uh-huh," she replied, tilting her head. "Did you have a date?"
"I wouldn't call it a date exactly." And really, it hadn't been a date. Standing at
a woman's doorstep didn't count as a date, did it? She had invited him in,
however, and they'd spent a nice evening together, until he'd told her that Parker
was his half-brother. Then all the color suddenly drained from her face. She'd
caught herself instantly, but she couldn't get rid of him fast enough after that.
Well, he thought, whatever the problem was, he wouldn't let it come between
them.
"So you had a date."
"As I said-"
She grinned, "Yeah, yeah, I heard you. What's her name?"
He sighed. Kathie could be incredibly blunt. And she knew him better than
anyone else. "Buffy. Buffy Summers."
"Sounds ... interesting." She giggled.
She never giggled. But she had. For a moment his thoughs snapped back to
Wesley. Maybe it was time for the big-brother-talk. He grinned at the thought.
Kathie would kill him if she knew. "Yes, she is ... interesting."
She looked at him for a long moment. "It's more, isn't it."
Yeah, she definitely knew him too well. "Could be. She's older." He walked
into the kitchen in search for something to drink and heard her follow him.
She snorted, "Who cares. Age is only a number."
Oh, yeah, he had to talk to Wesley. Age is only a number? Uh-huh. "She's
beautiful, and intelligent."
"Sounds really serious." She leaned against the doorframe in the kitchen.
"Where did you meet her?"
"At the party. The one at Parker's company."
At the mention of her step-brother, Kathie's eyes went cold. "She a friend of
him?"
"No," he replied, opening the can of soda. "Actually, he seems to dislike him a
lot."
For a moment, she watched him, a strange look in her eyes, then she turned
away. "I'm tired. Have to get up early tomorrow." When she was already halfway up the stairs, she shouted, "I'd like to meet her. Soon."
He emptied the can, tossed it into the garbage, grinned. If it was up to him she
would.
*
Buffy groaned and rolled to her other side. She opened one eye.
2 a.m.
She groaned again. Sleep wouldn't come. She wasn't really surprised. After
Angel had dropped his little bomb about being Parker Abrams' step-brother, she
wasn't surprised at all. After this revelation, the evening had ended quickly. She
wasn't able to do small-talk with him. Not after this.
Liam Sullivan was Parker Abrams' step-brother.
It wasn't just a little bomb. It was more like a nuclear detonation. For more
reasons than just the obvious one.
She hated Parker Abrams. She despised him. He was a scumbag. He made her
life in at the company a living hell. He tried to outmanoeuver her, tried to beat
her in every possible field. But that was just the surface. The real problem was,
they had been more. Once. Much more.
They had met in college. She'd been a freshman, he in his final year. Good
looking. Sophisticated. Successful. And she'd fallen in love with him. She'd been
a virgin, a naive little girl, and he'd seen it. And used it without any regrets.
She'd lost her virginity, he'd gained another proof for his reputation to be the
most irresistible guy at campus.
And she had learned the hard way that trusting a man could be a big fault. It
would have been hard if she'd just slept with him. The way things were, it had
been a disaster.
She took a deep breath, suppressing the tears that always threatened to come
whenever she thought about shattered dreams, and lost love.
Love.
What a joke. It had never been love. Never. Not on his side. And not on hers
either, as she'd found out later on. She'd been fascinated by him, but she barely
knew him. She'd slept with him after knowing him for only three days. Hardly
enough time to love someone. The morning after he'd told her that she had to
leave.
She'd never forget the way he'd laughed at her that morning when she'd asked
him, wide-eyed, if they would see each other again. No darling, he'd said, he
didn't have any intention to see her again. She hadn't been so good anyway.
The first tear was slipping from her eye now. It shouldn't hurt anymore. It had
been a long time ago. But it still did. Not because of his betrayal. By realising
she had never loved him the healing began. But there was another wound, one
that wouldn't heal. Couldn't.
It was the final irony to meet him again at work. And it was even more than he
didn't remember her. He'd never shown any sign of recognition, had never
mentioned their night together. And knowing the scumbag, he would have used
it by now. No, he didn't remember her at all. She'd just been a challenge for him,
one to be conquered and soon to be forgotten afterwards.
But she could not forget. He hadn't suffered the way she had. No, she would
never forget.
And Angel was his step-brother. Granted, he didn't like Parker either. He hadn't
made a secret of it. But could she risk it? The answer was a firm no. She
wouldn't. She wouldn't do anything that could connect her with things she'd tried
to suppress for so long.
As much as she liked Angel, and she did, as much as she felt attracted to him,
she couldn't do it. Not when he was related to Parker. Okay, so they weren't
really related, but that didn't matter. She would just forget about him. When he
called the next time, she would tell him she was busy. Or ... yes, she would just
tell him she had a boyfriend. It was the truth. She had a boyfriend. It wasn't
really important that she'd decided to dump Riley. For the time being, until he
came back, he was still her boyfriend. And she would tell Angel. So he would
understand that there was no way they could see each other again.
For the peace of her mind, it was the only way.
Part 5
"I can't believe you gave him my address."
A bag filled with bagels came flying on Cordelia's desk, while Buffy rushed
past it, into her office. The brunette gave the bag only a quick glance, then
raising a brow, she stood and followed the other woman.
"Good morning to you, too," she said, closing the door behind her, barely able
to stifle a grin. "So I assume he came to see you last night?"
The blond let herself fall into her chair, ran a hand through her hair, glaring at
her secretary and friend, "I don't like the way you're saying this. You make it
sound as if we were having hot and steamy sex last night."
The second brow rose as well, "And? Did you?"
"Cordy!" Buffy shook her head. She didn't know why she was still surprised by
the blunt remarks of the other woman. But she was. Probably she would never
completely get used to Cordelia Chase. "I'm not you. Besides," she sighed,
closed her eyes for a moment, "He's Parker's brother."
Cordelia's eyes almost bulged out of her head, "He's, what?" She jumped from
the chair, started to pace the office. "That slimy weasel. He just doesn't stop at
anything."
Buffy straightened, "What are you talking about?"
"Well, it's clear as day. Parker wants the Phoenix-job. You want the Phoenixjob. And now he uses is brother for this." She stopped, then with a groan let
herself fall back into the chair, "And I gave him your address."
"So you gave him my address," the blond said triumphantly. "But you are
wrong on the rest. We didn't talk about it, but I have a feeling he and Parker
aren't on the best of terms."
Cordelia's brows shot up again, "Well, that's good then."
"Yeah. And no. I mean, yeah, it's good he and Parker aren't pals. They aren't
really brothers. They aren't even related. Angel's father married Parker's mother."
She saw the brunette smile, and held up a hand, "But still, this is a mess. I cannot
be with Angel, while ..."
"Ah. So you're already thinking about him in terms of 'being with him'." A sly
grin appeared on Cordelia's face.
"Cordy, I hardly know the guy."
"Didn't know that was needed for hot, steamy sex," the secretary muttered.
Buffy rolled her eyes, "Is that all you can think about? Hot, steamy sex? That
might be your thinking, but it isn't mine. I never had a one night stand in my
life..." Wrong, her inner voice whispered. Yeah, she'd had a one night stand. But
not because she wanted to. She had thought she'd found something wonderful.
Something special. It had been a nightmare. It had cost her dearly.
"Well, then it's long time for one."
The blond sighed, "I can't. I'm not like you. I want to know the guy, I want to
actually like him before ... you know. The problem is ... I could like him. A lot,
actually. And I'm not sure I want that."
"You know," Cordelia said, standing up, giving Buffy a long, hard look. "That's
just so you. I'm giving you the opportunity to have a great one-night thing, and
in typical Buffy-fashion you have to make it all complicated and ...," she threw
her hands in the air, "I don't know what to do with you."
***
Angel yawned when he entered the small office he and Gunn had rented for
their detective agency. It wasn't in the best part of town, but it was okay. It wasn't
big, but that didn't matter. It was what they were able to pay, and so far it had
been enough.
The office had a small reception area with a desk and a computer - bought
second hand. It was Fred's place. She was their secretary, sort of. Two days after
opening the agency, Gunn and Angel had found her on the doorsteps, half
starved, dirty, with clothes torn. She'd been slightly confused, but after feeding
her, and cleaning her up, they hadn't been able to get rid of her. She stuck to
them like glue.
Kathie said Fred was suffering from some serious hero worship, and for the
first weeks her eyes had lit up like beacons whenever Angel had entered the
room. Fortunately she was over it now, and over the months she'd proven to be a
useful employee and a good and loyal friend.
From the reception area you could reach the two small offices, one for Angel,
one for Gunn. They were equal partners in this.
Angel and Gunn knew each other from earliest childhood, then lost touch for a
while, but had met again some years ago while Angel had been working at a bar
to pay for his own and Kathie's education, and they'd liked each other from the
start. They shared a rough youth, with only little love from their parents, and
they both had seen the darker shades life had in store.
"Yo, partner." Gunn's face wore a broad grin when he stepped out of his office.
Much to Angel's dismay who loved to sleep late, the African-American was an
early bird, and almost disgustingly awake at a time when Angel still needed
serious caffeine infusion to get himself half-way going.
"Hi, Angel." Fred beamed at him from her place behind the computer.
"Morning," he greeted back, sipping from the coffee he'd brought in the coffee
shop at the corner. "Any news?"
"I checked out your brother's case last night," Gunn replied, sitting at the edge
of Fred's desk.
One of Angel's brows rose, "And?"
"It was a blast," the other man's lips turned up into a sarcastic smile, "I've been
spending the whole night in my car with junk food and too much coffee. And
absolutely nothing happened. Parker owes us big time for this."
"Yeah," his friend agreed. "And he's going to pay."
"I really hate the guy." Gunn reached out took the half-emptied cup from
Angel and took a large gulp. "Gino still makes the best coffee around."
"Parker is slime," Fred's eyes were full of disgust.
"He sure is," Angel agreed. "But he's paying big bucks for this, and
unfortunately as our business is just starting out, we can't be too selective." He
sighed deeply, reached for his coffee again. "But I agree, I'd prefer not to work
for him. Kathie almost had a fit when I told you he was our new client."
"How is the little goldilocks?" Gunn asked, taking one of the cookies Fred had
always on her desk. He always called Kathie goldilocks although she was darkhaired. It was a joke that went back to childhood.
"Goldilocks my ass," Angel snorted, then gulped the remaining coffee.
Running a hand through his short hair he chuckled, "I think she's got it bad for
good old Wes."
"What?" Gunn almost choked on his cookie. "Wes?" He rolled his eyes, "God,
the guy could be her father."
"Not quite," Angel said dryly. "But yeah, he's older."
Gunn chuckled, "Older or not, the guy isn't standing a chance."
Angel shot him a look, but his face was serious. There were things about
Kathie nobody but he and his sister knew. To everyone she looked fine. But
Angel knew only too well, that a lot of it had been achieved by hard work and
extensive therapy. But because Kathie was so proud of herself, and because he
would never betray her trust, he flashed Gunn a smile, "Yeah. That's what I'm
afraid of."
***
The door opened and Wesley's head appeared. When his eyes fell on Kathie
Sullivan, he frowned, "You are still here?"
His clipped English accent sent a shiver down her spine. How could she ever
have believed him boring? "Yes," she gave him a smile, her hands stilling on the
keyboard. "I need to type some stuff for my PhD. I hope that's okay?"
The frown disappeared, "Oh. By all means. Type away. I was afraid you were
still working for me. And I don't want you to do more than you're paid for." A
smile appeared on his face as well. He looked years younger then. "Anything I
can do to help you?"
"Professor," she scolded, but her smile never slipped, "You're not meant to help
me."
"Oh. That's ... not what I meant. I thought maybe you h-had a question or
something." He coughed slightly, looked out of the window.
God, he was adorable when he was all flustered. Like a little boy. She wanted
to hug him in those moments, but knew he'd be horribly embarrassed. He was
such a nice man, but terribly shy. Sometimes she wondered if he still was a
virgin. A little bit irritated with herself, she dismissed the thought. But she was
glad he was shy. She wasn't all that bold herself. She wasn't a virgin anymore,
but it was a fact she would only too gladly forget. Unfortunately she couldn't.
"No," she forced herself away from those thoughts, and smiled, "I'm fine. But
this computer is so much faster than the one Angel gave me."
"Your brother is a good guy," Wesley replied, looking at her. "I'm sure he does
all he can."
"Oh, he does," she said quickly, her voice warm. "He's the best brother a girl
can wish for. We're close. And I'm glad he gave me the computer, but it's easier
to work on this one. Especially with graphics."
His brows shot up, "Graphics?"
She grinned. Wesley was lost where computer were concerned, but he was
fascinated by the new possibilities, "Yeah. You wanna see?" When he pulled a
chair next to her and sat down, she felt warm all over. It was a good feeling. She
felt like a real woman.
Part 6
Hi.
Buffy looked up from her desk, her pen slipping from her fingers when she
became aware of the man standing in her doorway. A-angel? she stammered,
discussing for a moment if this was some wacky dream. Of course she would
never admit it to anyone, but her weekend had been filled with dreams. Day
dreams to be precise. It had been so annoying shed finally gone to the fitness
studio in her neighbourhood, hoping that exercise would help, that she might fall
asleep from exhaustion. Shed fallen asleep alright, but had woken up with her
body aching all over, and an x-rated dream still etched in her mind.
He sighed deeply, Seems youre already addicted to that stupid nickname.
She had a hard time stifling a grin, What are you doing here?
His day had been crap, not that the weekend had been any better, but today
really hit the bottom. From the cold coffee in the morning - Ginos was closed on
Mondays -, to a client who was refusing to pay his bill, to his recent meeting
with Parker. So he hadnt been able to resist the temptation and stopped at Buffys
office. I had an errand to run, he replied, looking around in her office. Nice, he
complimented, Very professional.
As this is my profession its hardly surprising. She sighed when she realised
how snippy that sounded.
One of his brows rose, Bad day?
She sighed again. Running a weary hand through her hair, she leaned back in
her chair. God, he looked too good to be true. Fresh, young, wearing what
seemed to be his professional outfit: jeans and the leather jacket, underneath a
black shirt. A woman had to be dead not to notice him. And that was the only
reason she felt heat rising inside of her. Right?
She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, What errand?
A grin appeared on his lips, Youre not bad at avoiding answers.
She frowned at him. If you must know, your brother and I had an uhm
argument. Argument was a pretty loose term to describe the yelling that had
taken place around noon. As a result shed been called to her boss. To make
matters worse Riley had called an hour ago, to tell her he would be home earlier.
Tomorrow to be precise.
Sitting down on the edge of her desk, he planted a hand on the surface and
leaned forward, Is that so? What a coincidence. I just saw him. Now I
understand why he was so irked. And just for the record, so you dont forget it
again. Hes my step-brother. Were not related.
So Parker had been irked? Too bad. And your errand was it Parker?
Yeah, he combed a hand through his hair. Not very pleasant either, he smiled. I
already told you we werent close.
Eyeing him closely for a moment, she nodded, Yeah, you did. And so after you
talked to your step-brother, you thought maybe if you could annoy Buffy for a
while it would make your day?
This time he laughed, picking up the pen that had slipped from her fingers just
before. It was still warm from her skin, and Angel felt his own prickle at the
thought. He cleared his throat, Actually, I thought you could maybe use a break,
he glanced at the clock on her desk, Its almost five. So, how about looking at
some paintings?
Not liking the heat she felt rising, she pushed herself away from her desk, then
stood and walked towards the window, Im sorry, she told him, Im really tired. It
was a long day. A visit to a museum isnt what I had in mind. More like a hot
bubble-bath and some sappy romance novel, but of course she didnt tell him.
The idea of a bubble bath and Angel in the same room was dangerous enough
without saying the words.
Thats not what I had in mind, came his husky voice from close behind her, and
Buffy almost jumped out of her skin. She whirled around, finding herself
suddenly pinned between the window and Angels body. She felt the heat
radiating from him, and almost moaned aloud.
N-no? she asked, hating the tremble in her voice.
No, one corner of his mouth lifted into a half-grin, and he took a step back.
Enough was enough, he decided. Not that he minded her flustered look. Not at
all. The faint blush was very becoming, and the way her eyes darkened was
almost irresistible, but he had the feeling that Buffy was a woman who wouldnt
take kindly to being pushed. You remember I told you that I sometimes paint?
She nodded and he went on. The idea is, you look at my paintings, say some nice
words, and then Im going to cook for you. The idea to cook for her had just
formed in his head, but the moment the words were out of his mouth, he really
started to like it.
He was glad when she smiled in return, You cook? Do you have other hidden
talents?
She wanted to slap herself the moment the words were out, but of course she
couldnt take them back, so she quickly added, I mean like uh mowing the lawn,
or or washing dishes or
His answering grin told her that he wasnt buying a word of it, Yeah, he said, I
do dishes on occasion. But tonight thats going to be your part. After all, Im
going to cook.
God, this was madness. He might not be related to Parker, but hadnt she
decided that she couldnt go out with him. My boyfriend will be back soon, she
blurted, instantly averting her eyes in embarrassment.
Your - boyfriend? His voice was casual, but she could hear the hardness
underneath.
Uhm yeah. She did look at him then. He was standing near her desk, his arms
folded in front of his chest, his eyes narrow. So you see, I cannot just go out with
you. It wouldnt be right. I cannot go on a date with a man.
A boyfriend, huh? Angel tilted his head, scrutinizing her closely, wondering
who this boyfriend was. He wasnt exactly an expert when it came to women, but
he would swear that the guy couldnt be too important for her. Her reaction
towards him had been instant and strong. Women didnt react that way if they
were already in love with another man. Well some probably did, but he was sure
Buffy wasnt one of them. Well, he said slowly, Who said this was a date? I mean
youre the daughter of a man who was an artist. Im simply inviting you to look at
my paintings and then we have dinner - as friends.
When he put it that way? What could she say? Friends? she echoed weakly, I
suppose thats okay.
He beamed, his face all innocence, but she knew shed been outmaneuvered by
an expert.
*****
Wesley stopped in the doorway of his office. Kathie was staying late again.
She was sitting at her desk, deeply engrossed in something on the computerscreen, her small nose scrunched in concentration, a frown on her forehead, she
looked simply adorable. He quickly closed his eyes and pushed the unwelcome
feelings down. This was simply not appropriate. And it was deeply disturbing.
Wesley Wyndham-Price, whod always seen himself as the epitome of
appropriate behaviour, who never left the line, who was never late, he was
lusting after a student.
He looked at her again, her dark, curly hair held back by a golden clip, only a
hint of make-up on her face, and felt his groin tighten. Irritated with himself, he
combed a hand through his already dishevelled hair, and cleared his throat.
At the sound her head came up, and when she saw him standing there, she
smiled, Oh, Wesley. I didnt hear you. Is there something you need?
Her dark eyes shone like gems, and the curve of her full lips was so inviting,
he inwardly groaned, No, he said harshly. Nothing. But this cant go on. He
gestured vaguely at her and the desk.
The smile slipped from her face, and a worried look entered her eyes, Im sorry.
I Did I do something wrong?
Kathleen, he began, purposely using her full name instead of the short form,
This cant go on. You cannot stay this late all the time.
Oh, but I thought last time you said, you didnt mind.
He let out a long breath. This was all going wrong. Hed simply been trying to
remove the temptation and now she was looking at him with big, wounded eyes
and his gut clenched painfully. I dont I mean Kathleen, if it was up to me but
people they are going to talk if youre staying late all the time. It was a lie, pure
and simple. Not an ass cared if students were staying late. They did it all the
time. But it was the first thing that came into his mind. He saw her blink and felt
like a heel.
Of course, she replied quickly, her trembling fingers flying over the keyboard
to shut down the computer. Thats of course I understand. I would never want that
she shook her head, a nervous laugh coming from her lips, Im sorry.
God, he hadnt wanted this. She looked as if shed committed the worst crime.
Her movements were jittery, while she collected her things.
Not looking at him, she pushed back her chair, stood and picked up her books
and files. I wont do it again, I promise, she said, and to his horror he saw tears
gathering in her eyes.
No, no, oh God, no. He hadnt wanted this. He knew how vulnerable she was,
had seen it before. God, he was scum. Worse than that. He was He reached for
her, before he could think twice, when she was about to leave the office. She
whirled around, her eyes huge, and the books slipped from her arms. She stared
at them, then at him, her whole body trembling.
Im sorry, she whispered, already bending to pick them up again, but he didnt
let go.
No, he said softly. Im sorry. I shouldnt have said that. God, these eyes were
killing him.
No, no, she insisted, You are right. I dont want people to thinkThey wont, he said firmly, People dont care. Its me. Kathie, its
Yes? her voice was breathless.
He was lost. Looking into her eyes, he knew he was a goner, Would you mind
if I kissed you now?
Kiss me? she breathed, clearly not quite able to follow his train of thoughts.
Yeah, he nodded, his eyes intent, his hands trembling on her arms. I know this
is wrong. We shouldnt do this. Im much older than you
How how much older?
But I would really very much like to kiss you, he finished, ignoring her
question. So would you mind, if I did?
Their eyes locked and held. If you dont say anything, Im going to take that as a
yes, he whispered, his lips only mere inches apart from hers.
Yes.
The moment he heard the word, his control snapped, and he captured her lips
in a long, passionate kiss.
Go to Part 7
Blissful Encounter
Part 7
Welcome to my humble home. With an inviting gesture, and an equally
inviting smile, Angel opened the door to a small, but well kept house, then
switched on the light as soon as Buffy stepped over the threshold. He was a bit
irritated by the fact that his hands trembled slightly. His hands never trembled.
He had the most steady hands he could think of. And yet, right here and now,
with Buffy Summers standing in the hall, looking around curiously, not only his
hands were jittery.
Nice, she said after a moment, and turned her head to look at him. Im
surprised.
Unfortunately her face didnt tell him if the surprise was good or bad. Yeah? he
asked, suppressing the urge to shuffle his feet. Damn, he was feeling like a
schoolboy eager to please his teacher.
Yeah, she nodded, her gaze sweeping towards the kitchen doorway. Its so, this
time she smiled when she turned to him, and Angel felt his stomach unclench,
normal.
Normal? Again his gut knotted uncomfortably. Normal was good, right? Or
maybe to a woman like Buffy Summers, with a successful career, a top class
apartment, and an office some people would kill for, normal meant horrible, only
she was too nice to say it openly. Not that Angel thought the house was bad.
Compared to some apartments, he and Kathie had lived in, and that didnt earn
that name, this house was like heaven. Normal, huh? he said, shrugging off his
leather jacket and throwing it over a chair. Yeah, I suppose it is. Its nothing
fancy. Hating the way it sounded, he took a deep breath, Can I get you
something. A drink?
Id like a glass of juice if you have.
She followed him into the kitchen. Angel walked to the fridge, that wasnt one
of those modern two door monsters, just a simple refrigerator. White, ugly, and
not very big. Damn, what was the matter with him? Hed never lost a thought
about kitchen furniture before. Suddenly it seemed terribly important, and all
because Buffy was standing only some feet away.
Opening the door, Angel closed his eyes for a moment, glad his hands were a
little bit steadier by now. Was it because she was older? He wondered. Or
because she was successful with her job? Hed never had an inferiority complex.
No, that was Parkers part. Right from the moment he and his mother had come
to live with Angels and Kathies father. But why was it so important that she
approved of what she saw? She was an attractive woman. He wanted her, no
denying there. But it wasnt as if he was madly in love with her, was it? Besides,
she had a boyfriend for goodness sake. She has said so herself. Shed come as a
friend.
Forcing his eyes open he let them sweep around, We have orange juice and
orange juice, he told her without looking up. A lot of people had nothing more
than orange juice in their freezers. It was nothing to be ashamed of.
Well, I think Im going to have orange juice then, came her amused answer, and
Angel was glad to see her smile when he finally closed the door again, holding
the pack of juice in his hand. He reached for a glass, Are you hungry? Or do you
want to see the paintings first? Not that he was really eager to show her. It had
been merely a way of getting her to accept his invitation. He really liked to paint,
and he even liked the stuff he was painting. But after seeing the one her stepfather had done, he felt like the worst kind of amateur.
She thought about the sandwich shed eaten just before hed been standing in her
office, Im not in urgent need of food right now. Lets see your work first.
He handed her the glass, glad it didnt slip from his suddenly sweaty palms,
then poured one for himself. His heart pounding in his chest, he led her through
the hallway to the stairs. Im painting upstairs, he explained.
Buffy followed him, her gaze falling on a small painting on the wall, of a girl
whose eyes were so much like Angels she had to be his sister. How old is your
sister? she asked.
He didnt turn when he answered, Shes two years younger. Shes twenty-four,
but going on forty, he chuckled. Shes currently writing her PhD, and works parttime for a Professor who teaches English literature.
I see, she replied. He turned left at the top of the stairs. The top floor was lit
dimly, but she could still see the worn carpet, the wilted wallpaper. Everything
was neat and tidy, but it was easy to see that Angel wasnt a rich man. Was that
the reason hed seemed so uncomfortable before. Did he think she would look
down at him just because he didnt have the kind of money she had?
He sighed suddenly, I think shes falling in love with him, he said before
opening a door at the end of the upstairs hallway, switching on the light. Here we
are.
She blinked, having been too deep in thoughts about Angel, the house, his
most recent behaviour, to follow his words. Who is falling in love with who?
My sister, he looked at her, and Buffy felt her insides flutter at the intensity of
his dark orbs. Shes falling in love with her English Professor. Or rather former.
Hes older than she. A lot older actually. Suddenly he grinned, and her stomach
flip-flopped, Must be something in our genes.
She gave him an irritated look, then deliberately stepped away from him, and
fully into the room. But the moment her eyes fell on the paintings she felt her
jaw drop. Buffy stood as if rooted on the spot. The painting covered the walls,
they were stacked in corners, they were piled on the single table. Only very few
were framed. Some of them were half finished, as though the artist has lost
interest or motivation. There were oils, in colours harsh and vivid, and
watercolours - only a few - that looked as if theyd sprung from dreams.
For a moment she felt as if shed travelled backward in time. True, this room
was smaller than the one her step-father had used for his work, but it was the
atmosphere, the way the brushes were lying on the table, the smell. She couldnt
really name it, but it was so achingly familiar, she felt her eyes water. Breathing
deeply, she forced herself to relax until her emotions settled.
There was a scene from Paris, the Cathedral of Notre Dame. She remembered
standing in front of it, not long after her disastrous relationship - if you could call
it one - with Parker. Her parents had given her the journey as a gift, and shed
been in desperate need to flee from familiar surrounding. It had been in Paris
where the healing started. An easel was set near the window, where the light
would come in. A cloth was thrown over it. Obviously Angel didnt want people
to see it before it was finished. Her step-father had been the same.
Feeling the sudden emotions threaten to clog her throat, she said, They are
beautiful, she said, not trying to hide the awe in her voice. You said you werent
as talented as my father, but she gave him a tremulous smile, you are. Why didnt
you paint professionally?
He shrugged, clearly uncomfortable with her praise, a faint blush on his
cheekbones, I just never did, he said. I suppose it never came up. He shrugged
again, Besides I hate the way a lot of people talk about art. They dont know a
single thing but they act as if theyre experts. He forced himself to stay calm, not
to show too openly how much her words meant to him. Not just because her
father had been a gifted artist, but because she was important to him. He didnt
want her to see him just for the old house with the old furniture that screamed of
barely overcome poverty, but for what he was, the man.
He knew she had reservations about him, had felt it from the moment theyd
laid eyes on each other. She was older than he, more experienced, no doubt,
sophisticated, rich - well maybe not rich, but certainly well settled, successful,
and so beautiful his insides ached every time he looked at her.
I know, her voice was soft and Angel felt a shiver run down his spine. Maybe
it hadnt been the wisest idea to come up with her. They were standing too close,
and he was severely tempted to forget all his good intentions and kiss her right
here. But he had sworn himself to go slow, had already realised that she wasnt
one to rush
And Im not as talented as your father, he insisted. His work wasnt bad, he
knew that. But it was nothing compared to the painting hed seen at her home. I
never painted anything only remotely comparable to the one hanging in your
living-room.
But youre so young, she replied. My father painted it three months before he
died. He had a lot more time to gain experience. Looking at this, she gestured at
the paintings, in twenty years time you could be a genius.
He chuckled and tried not to wince at her comment about his age, Hardly. I do
love to paint, but as I said, Im not going to become a professional artist. I like to
express my feelings that way, but I wouldnt like my pictures to be taken apart,
people giving them meanings they never had, looking for intentions that were
never there in the first place. I still cant stand going to museums and listen to
people who discuss what this or that means and why the artist took yellow and
not green. I could never explain my paintings. I just paint them. Feel them.
You dont like them to be dissected, she said, understanding in her eyes. She
remembered her step-father saying something very much alike once. Again she
felt her eyes water.
Yeah. God, her eyes were huge, and he was already drowning in them. He felt
his fingers twitch and quickly stuffed his hands into his pockets. Otherwise he
was going to reach for her. And that - he knew - would be a bad idea. Very bad.
He could remember the wary look in her eyes, before shed agreed to come with
him. He wasnt going to ruin this evening by behaving like a love-crazed
teenager. He was twenty-six years old, almost twenty seven, he could keep his
hormones in check.
But damn her lips looked tempting, so sweet and soft, and they were curved
into the merest hint of a smile. The hands in his pockets balled into fists. Maybe
we should go down. So I can start to impress you with my cooking skills. The
smile widened, and he had to swallow. You know , he stammered, one of the , he
swallowed again, his eyes locked into hers, skills I mentioned.
If she had done something, said something, hed probably been able to keep his
hands off her, but when she looked at him with those huge eyes and simply said,
Hmmm, her voice like a hummed promise, her mouth more tempting than ever,
he couldnt help himself anymore.
Pulling one hand from his pocket, he reached out, cupped her neck and pulled
her toward him slowly. He gave her plenty of time to move away, plenty of time
to say something to spoil the mood or turn her head or order him to stop. She did
nothing. She allowed him to draw her mouth to his, and she not only allowed
him to kiss her, she parted her lips and closed her eyes in sheer delight, as she
wrapped her arms around his neck.
It was amazing, what the simple touch of the right mans lips could do to a
woman. She felt like melting butter. Her knees went weak, her entire body
reacted to the kiss. She tingled, from the top of her head to her toes. She held on
tightly and let herself be swept away. What she had seen in his dark eyes just
before his mouth has descended onto hers, was what she felt, too. Tension.
Electricity. Want.
It wasnt as if she hadnt been kissed recently. On the contrary. Riley kissed her
regularly. But it was nothing - not even remotely comparable, to the sheer power
she felt now. She felt Angels lips move over hers, in a soft tease, a silent
whisper, his tongue swept into her mouth, stroking, while his teeth scratched the
sensitive skin just beneath her lower lip. God, she was 34 years old and had
never been kissed like that. How pathetic was that?
The kiss wasnt even deep, or demanding, or forceful, but there was energy
here, something beautiful and strangely elusive. Like a dream, like one of his
watercolours, and in the back of her mind she knew that it was no more than
that, and yet she wished this kiss would go on forever. When he finally pulled
his mouth from hers, she couldnt breathe. She felt that kiss to her very bones.
Oh, no. She couldnt do this. Her eyes flew open, and she looked at him, his
own eyes dark with barely restrained passion. God, what was happening to her?
She thought about Riley, her steady boyfriend, the guy her mother wanted her to
marry. She hadnt even broken up with him, and yet she was here, in the house of
man who was still a stranger to her, kissing him as if there was no tomorrow. A
stranger, who was seven years her junior.
Wow, she heard him whisper and the deep timbre of his voice washed over her
skin like hot velvet. She felt herself shiver, and realised her hands were still
locked behind his neck. Quickly she pulled them away, forced herself to step
back, and almost winced at the loss of contact. You certainly know how to kiss.
She laughed, nervously, Youre not bad either, she managed. But I uhm thought
we would just meet as friends.
She saw a flash of disappointment flicker through his eyes, but it was gone so
quickly she was sure shed simply imagined it. He straightened, and stepped
away from her as well, retreated into the hallway. Right. Friends. He took a deep
breath, So, friend. What do you think about pasta and a glass of very good red
wine?
She followed him when he went back down the stairs and towards the kitchen,
glad that he didnt look back when she put her fingers on her mouth, still feeling
them tremble with the power of his kiss.
Part 8
Kathie felt herself shiver when Wesley finally lifted his mouth from her lips.
His eyes, still dark with something she couldnt quite name, were gazing down
into hers, his hands, tightly wrapped around her waist only seconds ago, let go
gradually. None of them said a word, only their laboured breathing was audible
in the small office. Her heart was still beating a mile a minute, and she still tried
to understand what had been happening to her. Although she wasnt a virgin
anymore Kathies experience was nil, and the one time she had been with a man,
or rather men, she would gladly wipe from her memory if something like that
was possible.
As a result she had believed herself to be unable to feel for a man the way she
did now. It had to be passion, she was sure of it, and felt a flush rise up her neck.
She was twenty-four years old and didnt have a clue what the look in Wesleys
eyes meant. Quickly she averted her own orbs in embarrassment, afraid he
would laugh the moment he realised what she was thinking.
But he didnt laugh, in fact he didnt say anything, just put a finger under her
chin and lifted it, so she had to look at him. Kathie, his voice was a little hoarse,
but the look in his eyes shed seen before was replaced by concern now. Are you
alright?
Alright? No, she was not alright. She felt strange, unfamiliar, confused. And at
the same time exhilarated. And the kiss had been incredible. Even with her
limited experience she was sure that a kiss that made your head spin wasnt
anything that happened regularly. Shed heard her friends talk, about boys who
didnt know how to kiss, and she had listened to Angel and Gunn when they were
joking. Nope. Head spinning wasnt the usual stuff. I uh Im fine, she managed.
She saw him release a breath, and a slight smile appeared on his mouth. She
thought about the way it had touched hers only moments ago and the flush crept
up her face. I didnt want to , he started, and her eyes sharpened.
You didnt, she asked, not able to hide the disappointment.
He laughed then, a sound tinged with relief, No, thats a lie. I cannot remember
when I didnt want to kiss you, he admitted, his hands still touching her.
Oh my, she thought, swallowing hard. Oh, was all she could say.
Im glad you didnt mind, he told her, his palms moving up and down her arms,
sending new shivers all over her body. I mean the kissing part. I uh Im old
enough to be your father.
Youre thirty-eight, she replied and smiled when she saw him wince.
Its so good of you to remind me, he said but there was amusement in his voice.
Still theres a great age-difference between us. And Im I mean youre so beautiful
and Im not what one would call a prize.
She knew she shouldnt laugh at that, but couldnt help it, Oh, Wesley. Im not
beautiful. Im well, Im a girl and nothing special.
His hands stilled on her arms, tightened around them, Yes, you are. Very
special. Kathie you are , he was serious again, the smile completely vanished
from his face, his eyes. Youre so precious to me. I dont I mean Im not very good
at this, he laughed slightly, embarrassedly, this relationship stuff. I was a geek in
school and college. The girls didnt really line up at my doorstep. I Im sure theres
a string of boys eager to go out with you.
She had to blink to keep the tears at bay. He didnt have a clue how wonderful
he was. Maybe he wasnt the best looking guy in the universe, but did it really
matter? From the moment shed entered his office and hed offered her the job of a
part-time secretary shed admired his mind, his knowledge. Hed never been
anything but considerate, and he could be incredibly sweet at times. Like now.
Thats so sweet, she whispered, And no, there are no boys.
No boys? he sounded, and looked so outraged, she had to smile through the
water in her eyes. Dont they have eyes?
No, its its not that, she put a hand on his chest, her eyes widening when she felt
his heart beat at the same furious rate as hers. Some have asked me out, but I I
didnt want to go. There are things stuff happened in my life, I its hard to talk
about it.
You dont have to, he told her quickly, smiling down. But if you need if you
ever need someone just an ear Im here.
God, she was starting to bawl any moment now. She took a deep breath, Thats
maybe I will tell you, I mean. Some day. But not tonight. And just for the record.
I dont think youre old. I never thought that way.
You might not, but I do, he muttered, but shed heard it nevertheless. Finally
letting go of her, he stepped away, ran a hand through his hair, that, to her
amazement, wasnt quite steady. Would it be alright if I drove you home? he
asked. I know you usually take the bus but I have my car and Yes, she answered quickly, giving him another smile. He smiled back and
Kathie thought that shed never seen a smile more beautiful.
*****
This is really good, Buffy said after swallowing her last bite, and gestured at
the half empty plate in front of her. A lot of garlic. She grinned, Tomorrow
theyre going to avoid me at the office like the plague.
Good, he grinned back, that adorable boyish smile shed seen throughout the
whole evening. She enjoyed seeing it, but it also reminded her of the age
difference between them. More wine? he pointed at the bottle then looked at her
questioningly.
No, thanks, she shook her head, I still need to drive. But Id like to have a glass
of water, please. He stood, and as she watched him reach for the glass, then fill it
with water, she knew that driving her car was only half the reason for her refusal
to drink more wine. True, she didnt want to lose her drivers license, but she also
had to keep a clear head, which was not that easy being around Angel all the
time. The way his shirt was clinging to his upper body, gave her a good idea of
the muscles underneath, and his tight denims, riding low on his hips - she would
have to be saint if her mouth didnt water at the view.
Quickly she looked away, not wanting him to see right through her, Do you
cook often? she asked, when he came back with her water.
It depends, he replied vaguely. Kathie, my sister, likes to cook, too. Maybe a
family streak. My mother was a great cook. We both had to learn it.
Had to? Her head came up, and she wanted to ask what it meant, but his face
had suddenly closed up, and she didnt dare to ask. She changed the subject, So,
how was your weekend?
He smiled, obviously relieved that she didnt press him to reveal things he
wasnt ready to tell, Boring. Annoying. Take your pick.
Sounds a lot like mine. And it was true. Her weekend had been boring to put it
mildly. Besides trying to get Angel out of her head, she had visited her mother,
only to have to listen to Joyces endless praise of Riley, and when they would
give her a wedding date. Not wanting to discuss the matter, Buffy had simply
listened, but not given a comment. In the end her mother had been angry with
her, telling her she didnt know how happy she was having a man who obviously
adored her. Buffy had left early, and spent Sunday evening at a fitness studio to
avoid spending hours alone in her apartment.
Years ago she wouldve called Willow, her best friend from highschool, but
Willow was living in England now, was a professor for computer science in
Oxford, living a happy life with her lpartner, Tara. Buffy was happy for her best
friend, but sometimes she was missing her badly, like last weekend. Of course,
there was still Cordelia, but Cordy was never at home on weekends, always busy
with a man, or with a party, or something equally exciting. The brunettes life was
never boring.
It does, huh? Angel gave her a compassionate look. We were busy with a case
and then , he shook his head, I was trying to dig my way through paper work.
People always think being a PI is exciting, but most of the time youre just sitting
in your office, trying not to fall asleep.
Why did you become a PI? she asked, glad they had moved to save territory.
He shrugged, The truth? I went to college, but because we didnt have a lot of
money I could only afford every other semester. He reached for his glass, drank
some more wine. And there was Kathie. I wanted her to have the best education
possible. When I was finally out of college, I met Gunn. We had lost contact, but
we hit it off again, and well, somehow we were sitting together, talking, and in
the end we decided to open an agency. He took another bite, So far its not bad.
Well see how it goes. I suppose we have to make it a success, for Fred if for
nothing else.
Fred?
Shes our secretary, he replied, swallowing his food.
Buffy was annoyed by the sudden pang of jealousy she felt at the thought of a
girl in Angels office. It was completely ridiculous, of course. Why should she be
jealous, and besides, she was the one who still had a steady boyfriend. Quickly
she pushed thoughts of Riley away. She would deal with him tomorrow. So
Freds a girl.
He nodded, Yeah. We found her - literally - one day at our doorstep. She was
in a terrible condition, her clothes torn, dirty, hungry. We couldnt just let her lie
there. So we took her in, he grinned, And she stayed. Now shes made herself
irreplaceable.
The grin was more disturbing than she wanted. What exactly was his
relationship to this Fred? Is she Gunns uhm ..
No, he grinned again, Shes Im not quite sure. A friend, I guess. Our secretary,
although she doesnt actually do office work. However, shes a wiz with the
computer, and thats something to be admired.
Now it was her turn to grin, Dont tell me computers frighten you. When she
saw the embarrassment in his eyes, she laughed, Youre supposed to be the young
generation.
I can use one, okay, he replied, annoyance colouring his voice. But I Kathie is
good with them. Whenever I need something she helps. I get around, but I prefer
not to use them. Theyre, his grin returned, scary.
They laughed and Buffy was about to comment, when the door opened, and
they heard voices from the hall. One female, one male.
I really dont want to impose, the man said, clearly uncomfortable with being
here.
You dont, the woman replied, laughter in her voice. Hmmm. This smells
wonderful, I bet Angel is cooking again andA young woman stopped in the doorway, her curly dark hair tumbling around
her heart shaped face, her dark eyes filling with curiosity at the scene before her.
Well, she smiled at Angel, at Buffy, Hello.
Youre late, Angel replied without looking at her. Buffy, meet my sister Kathie.
Kathie, Buffy Summers.
And this, Kathie stepped aside, revealing a man who was clearly her senior, is
Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, my boss. The beam on her face when she introduced
him almost split her face. Buffy remembered Angel telling her about his sisters
attachment to an older man, and had a feeling that said man was standing right in
front of her.
Hey, Wes, Angel stood, held out his hand for the guest. There was something
in his eyes, Buffy couldnt quite read, but she supposed it had to do with
brotherly protectiveness. She barely stifled a grin. It was such a change from the
witty, eloquent young man, to the older brother. But Buffy realised she liked it, it
made Angel even more interesting.
Are you hungry? Theres enough left. Angel stepped back, his whole posture an
invitation for the other man. Obviously Angel agreed with his sisters choice.
See, Kathie smiled at her boss, So, come in. Sit down. Ill get you a plate and
fork. She shoved Wesley into the kitchen, and Buffy smiled at the man who didnt
seem quite sure if he should in fact sit down or rather run as fast as possible.
Nice to meet you, he said, returning Buffys smile. Im sorry for interrupting
your meal.
Dont worry, she replied, hoping to ease his mind. It was painfully clear that
Wesley wasnt used to company. But it was equally clear that he adored Angels
younger sister. The way his eyes followed her every movement, the way his eyes
lit up whenever their gazes met, told more than words could.
Part 9
I cant believe I let you persuade me to do this, Angel murmured, staring
straight ahead, while trying to ignore the disturbing presence of the woman
sitting next to him.
Keeping her eyes on the road, Buffy grinned, Its not that bad. Its just a party.
Hed been grumpy ever since shed picked him up at his house. Usually she didnt
like that in men. In Angel, however, it was simply adorable.
A party, he scoffed, still not able to believe hed agreed to go with her. And that
after shed ignored his calls for ten days. It had to be worse than hed thought.
Shed all but ignoring him for over a week, but one snap of her fingers and he
came running like a love-sick fool
Hed had high hopes after their dinner in his house. Hed been so sure shed
amused herself, that shed liked being there. And then nothing happened. Hed
tried reaching her, called her, left her messages on her mail-box. She hadnt
returned one single call. Not one. And yet, hed kept trying. Usually he didnt
need more than one hint to understand his attention was wanted, but it seemed
where Buffy Summers was concerned hints werent quite enough.
Well, yeah. She shifted the car into a higher gear, then pressed down the
accelerator, a sure sign theyd finally reached the Highway. Its a party. Not that
she really wanted to go. But Willow was coming all the way from England,
using the opportunity to see her parents, visiting old friends, and the redhead had
practically forced her to come, too.
A Highschool reunion, he replied, shaking his head. He had to be out of his
mind. Why on earth hadnt he told her no? Because hed wanted to go, he
reminded himself. Everything was alright as long as he could keep her company.
Even if it meant to go with her to a damned Highschool reunion. Yes, it was
definitely a lot worse than hed thought. Although he shouldve known it. There
hadnt been a night these past ten days when he hadnt dreamt about her. In colour,
and surround sound. One dream especially had him waking up sweating and
aching - and forced him to take a cold shower in the middle of the night.
You say it as if its poison, she grinned again. My time at Highschool wasnt that
bad. Actually it was quite good. I was Homecoming queen once. Shed been a
cheerleader, too. And May queen. But she didnt want to brag, feeling that Angel
wasnt quite comfortable with the subject.
Figures, he muttered. It was only logical. She was a gorgeous woman, he could
easily imagine what a beautiful girl she must have been.
Pardon?
Nothing. He straightened in his seat, took a cleansing breath. His own
Highschool days werent anything he cared to remember. Hed still lived with his
father, his step-mother, and Parker. And hed hardly been able to wait until he
was eighteen, which meant he could leave without asking his fathers permission.
So tell me, she said finally, keeping her eyes on the road, What did you do
these last days? Any exciting new cases?
Angel knew she didnt intend to sound like his older sister, but somehow the
way she had asked the question irked him. Obviously she was determined to
remind him of their age difference any way possible. Trying to keep his own
temper in check, he frowned, No. Nothing. As I told you, being a PI is mostly
boring.
So you said. She nodded, sighed, My week wasnt any better. Actually it had
been one of the worst weeks in her life. But she was determined to enjoy the
evening, and not let an angry mother, and an even angrier ex-boyfriend ruin it
He was tempted to say it was her own fault for not returning his calls, but he
bit off the words. Still, there was something he wanted to know. Is the boyfriend
back?
Yeah, as a matter of fact, he is, she replied, and Angel saw her hands tighten on
the wheel. He was back alright, and angry as Hell.
Oh? he turned his head slightly, And why didnt you take him with you tonight?
He had a late meeting at his office. And that was the truth. No way she was
going to tell Angel that shed broken up with him, and Riley had taken it a lot
worse than shed expected. After shouting at her for about an hour, hed left her
apartment, then instantly called her mother. That had resulted in a late night visit
from Joyce Summers, and more shouting. God, she wanted to pretend the
previous week had never happened.
Oh, great! So hed been the second choice, huh? Well, she certainly knew how
to keep a guys ego in check. I see, he said tightly, swallowing against the lump
in his throat. And you didnt want to go on your own?
No, she shook his head, laughed a little, hoping it sounded natural, No, I didnt.
Its no fun. I can just see all the faces pitying me. No way Im going to tell them I
didnt have a date because a business date was more important. Or that I dumped
my boyfriend because he was a real disappointment. She was thirty-four, had no
ex-husbands, no kids, just broken up relationships that had never been really
serious, and never lasted for a long time. Not a good track record to show on a
Highschool reunion.
Did he hear anger in that statement? Could it be there were some clouds
hanging over the relationship? He straightened even more, keeping an eye on
her, wanting to see the expression on her face. So you called me.
Hmmm, she nodded again, Yeah. Im sorry I didnt return the messages you left
on my mailbox, but I was so busy these last days. Partly thanks to your stepbrother. That had been the third reason why shed had a week from Hell. Slimy
weasel Parker was a pain in the behind, acting as if they were working for
different companies, not for the same. Couldnt he see that they werent enemies?
At least not if it came to their job.
He ignored the comment about Parker, not eager to discuss his step-brother.
Busy, huh? Too busy to call once? Damn if that hadnt sounded bitter. Hed better
learn to keep himself in check. He cleared his throat.
Im really sorry, she repeated. And she was. Sorry. Shed been so tempted to call
Angel, but after her break-up with Riley, and her confrontation with her mother,
shed been too raw to call him. And later, after sanity had returned, shed taken a
good look in the mirror and decided that there was no way a relationship with
Angel could work. She wasnt able to have one with a man her age. How was she
supposed to hold on to one several years younger? Sure, Angel had agreed to be
just friends, but she wasnt stupid enough to believe it was possible. The
attraction between them was almost palpable. But for tonight she would endure
it.
She knew it wasnt quite fair to use him that way, knew that he was seriously
interested in her, could see it every time he looked at her. And if she was
completely honest with herself, she had to admit that she could still feel the kiss
on her lips, the kiss that had totally pulled away the floor under her feet. Yep,
there was no doubt, she was equally interested in him. But that didnt mean she
would act on it. Not at all.
Damn. She swore silently. She had promised herself not to do that. No thinking
about kissing. Or the way he smiled. He had a nice smile. One that made her
skin tingle.
Stop it. Stop it.
Yeah, Im sorry, too. Sorry didnt quite describe it. Hed been disappointed,
although hed tried to prepare himself for the rejection. Hed noticed her pulling
back whenever she felt things got to close, had noticed the way she liked to point
out their age difference. So hed actually expected her to bail. But it had hurt
nevertheless.
But I needed a friend tonight, she told him, Id really hate them all pointing at
me, pitying me. Poor Buffy, no man for her tonight. Plus spending a night with
Angel was something she was looking forward to, even though she didnt dare to
investigate that feeling any further.
Friend, huh? It seemed she was really going to stick to the friend-thing. Well, it
was up to him to convince her that being lovers was even better, that being
friends was only a first step, boyfriends be damned. Well, friend, he said, forcing
a smile on his lips, then lets enjoy the evening.
*
It was exactly the way hed imagined it. Maybe worse. The only good part was
that he got to hold her in his arms while they were swaying over the dance-floor.
Thank God, he had attended that dance class at college or he wouldve
completely embarrassed himself. But thanks to his sisters constant nagging, he
didnt stick out too much, although his leather jacket certainly wasnt the standard
clothing tonight. But hed drawn the line at that. He wore black pants, and a white
shirt, but had refused to wear a suit jacket, and had ignored the amused grin of
the girl whod taken their coats.
Hed take a lot more, he thought, to hold Buffy like this again. Her head was
lying against his chest, her arms slung around his neck, while his own hands
were touching her bare back. The black spaghetti-strapped dress she wore was
ending at mid-thigh, and clung to her womanly curves like a second skin,
leaving her back bare almost all the way down. Hed almost forgotten his name
when shed removed her coat, and he was still trying to recover from the shock
the view had dealt to his system. For the first time he was glad he was wearing
loose slacks and not his usual tight denims.
The same moment the music ended and her head came up from his chest, her
eyes blinking almost sleepily, and Angel stifled a groan the very last moment.
Would she look like that waking up, too? Images of Buffy lying naked between
sheets shot in his head, making it spin. Jesus, he had to get a hold on himself.
Buffy!
Just in time to save him, a redhead came walking over to them, waving
enthusiastically, a huge grin on her face. With her was a blond woman of the
same age, who didnt seem completely comfortable with being here. Well, he
could relate to that.
Willow!
Buffys face split into a grin as well, and then the two women were lying in
each others arms, hugging tightly, sniffling. Oh, Buffy, the redhead said, Its so
good to see you.
And you, the blonde replied. Oh, let me look at you. Buffy pulled back,
scrutinizing the other woman closely. You look wonderful. Happy.
I am, Willow beamed, reaching for Taras hand. We are.
Hello, Buffy, the shy blond woman said, smiling slightly.
Hey, Tara. Still wearing the huge smile on her face, she turned to Angel, And
this is Liam Sullivan.
Hi, Liam, both women greeted him, Willows eyes wandering all over him,
obviously checking him out. Nice to meet you.
The same here, he replied, liking Willow immediately. She was slightly taller
than Buffy, with a paler complexion, but her eyes were intelligent, and very
gentle. Tara, who obviously was her life-partner, seemed like a very nice person,
too.
He would have liked to chat with them, and maybe hearing more about Buffy,
but suddenly an arm came around Buffys waist, and a voice whispered, "Hello,
beautiful."
Angel saw Buffy turn, then her eyes widen in surprise before a smile spread
across herface, "Spike."
Spike? What sort of guy was called Spike? And why? Because of his sexual
performance?
"Spike. That's so great to see you. You haven't changed at all."
Hadn't changed? The guy was old! And he was not very big. And skinny. What
the hell did she see in him? And he didnt even want to start on that bleached
blond hair. The guy was in his mid-thirties, for goodness sake.
"I should take it as an insult," the blond man growled playfully. "But I don't.
You have changed, baby. But only for the better." The mans eyes swept
approvingly over her barely covered body.
Her responding giggle was very feminine and the hairs in Angel's neck stood
up straight. He coughed.
"Oh," she flushed prettily, "I almost forgot. That's Liam Sullivan, my date.
Liam, that's Spike Stevens, a former classmate."
Angel forced a smile, "Nice to meet you," he said, but his voice was cold as
ice.
Spike's return smile wasn't friendlier, "Liam."
"Spike was the guy who always wanted to date me. But I was terribly shy in
Highschool. He was the bad boy. I wouldn't have dared dating him."
Bad boy, huh? And shed been the Homecoming queen. Didnt that just sound as
if taken from a sappy romance novel?
How about a dance? Spike suggested, starting for the dance-floor. You owe me
one, you know.
She laughed, Okay, okay. She gave Angel and her friends an apologetic smile.
Excuse us for a moment. With that she let him pull her away, laughing again, her
eyes sparkling with amusement, and Angel had to hold back a growl.
He almost jumped when suddenly a hand came to lie on his arm. Turning his
head he saw Willow looking at him, her eyes full of amusement. Dont worry.
Theyre just dancing. With a little tug, she pulled him with her towards the
drinks. And now, she beamed at him, tell me how it comes that Buffy never
mentioned you in any of her e-mails. I have a feeling I missed a lot more than I
thought.
Part 10
Now, tell me, Spike said as soon as they had reached the dance floor, where
have you been during my lonely years?
Buffy grinned up at him, not quite liking the little pang she felt because it
werent Angels arms holding her now. This was not good. Missing Angels arms
was bad. Very bad. She had convinced herself that it could never work between
them. He was much too young for her, almost a baby with his 26 years compared
to her 34. Women did mature earlier anyway. Besides, they came from totally
different backgrounds. Shed seen such relationships. They always ended it angst
and woe.
Finally realising that Spike was still waiting for an answer, she laughed, glad
shed found a distraction from his disconcerting thoughts Working my ass off?
she laughed again when he raised a brow. What? Didnt expect that kind of
language from me?
No, he shook his head, astonishment in his eyes. Shed always been a pretty
little flower, and hed seen a lot of potential in her, but never - not in his wildest
dreams - hed expected her to grow into such a knock-out. She was not just
beautiful, but all of her cried of class - and money. It didnt need an expert to see
that the jewels around her neck were no cheap copy. True, her family had always
had money, but he knew other girls from similar families and they were nothing
compared to her. Plus she radiated the kind of strength he admired. But Im all for
surprises, he added on a grin, suddenly feeling as if hed never really seen her
before.
Are you now? she asked, laughing again. Shed always liked Spike Stevens,
even had a crush on him at some point, but hed been taken already, and totally
devoted to his girlfriend. Talking about his girlfriend, How is Dru?
Something flickered through his eyes, she couldnt quite understand, but it was
quickly gone, and Buffy was determined to have fun tonight, so she dismissed it.
But she understood as soon as he answered. Were divorced. That also means we
got married at some point. And it was good. Fun while it lasted. Then one
morning we woke up and realised there was nothing left. He shrugged, lifting
one shoulder, These things happen.
She couldnt hide her surprise, I always thought youd last forever.
Yeah, he laughed but it wasnt a happy sound, But then, eternity is such a long
time. When youre eighteen, it seems possible, but when you hit thirty you see
things differently.
Kids?
No, thank God. She always wanted a baby, but , he shrugged again, it just
didnt happen. Looking back, Im glad. I wouldnt want a kid being stuck between
us. He frowned suddenly, all humour gone from his expression, The separation
wasnt nice. I hoped we could stay friends, but She almost saw when he pulled
himself together, and forced a smile back on his face, But thats old news. Id
rather hear about you. Whos the guy? He nodded towards Angel who was
standing with Willow and Tara, trying his best not to watch. She almost giggled
when she saw him staring at his drink.
Angel?
Angel? Spike burst out laughing. What kind of name is that?
His real name is Liam, okay, she snapped, feeling oddly protective of him. His
nickname had slipped from her tongue, and she knew how uncomfortable Angel
was with it. And she remembered how much Spike liked to taunt people.
Hey, hey, he took one hand from her back, held it up, Peace, okay. It wasnt
meant as an insult. But you have to admit Angel is pretty unconventional.
Yeah, as is Spike, she shot back.
Touché, he agreed. So Angel Liam, he looks like your little brother. Is he
younger?
Spike had always been one to find weak spots. And obviously he hadnt
changed. And if he is?
Okay, he grinned, seems tonight Im constantly stepping on your toes. How do
you feel about a general apology?
She looked at him for a long moment, then relaxed, Accepted. Now, tell me,
who is here tonight?
*
If you continue to look like that, theyre going to throw you out.
Angels head snapped up, and he tried to focus on the woman beside him,
giving her an apologetic smile. What? Sorry, Willow, I didnt listen.
She grinned, liking Buffys date more by the minute. Yeah, Ive noticed. Liam,
she put a hand on her arm, Spike and Buffy never were an item. And jealousy is
so out.
Im not , he started, but at her knowing look, he let out a long breath. Yeah, I
suppose I get jealous. Im sorry. I dont even have a right to be jealous. Buffy and
I were friends. There is nothing , again that knowing look, and he finally smiled,
that is not to say I wouldnt want, but she I think she has a problem because Im a
few years younger.
Define few?
Seven, he replied without hesitation. But I thats just years. Numbers. My life
has been - well, at least I think it was much more difficult than hers. I might be
younger in years, but certainly not in life experience. He sipped from his drink,
risked another glance at the dance-floor. She was in the guys arms again,
laughing. Why the hell had she asked him to come at all, he thought testily.
Again with the murdering eyes, Willow murmured and Angel quickly looked
away. Liam, you need to relax where Buffy is concerned. She never was one to
be pushed.
He couldnt suppress a laugh. Willow certainly knew her friend. Oh, I know
that, believe me. But Im I dont know how to make her see that years arent an
issue.
She was still in the guys arms, dancing even closer now. He felt his stomach
clench painfully, felt the anger burn in his gut. Had she only taken him to show
him she didnt need him at all? No. He dismissed the idea instantly. Buffy wasnt
like that. The woman he had gotten to know wasnt an unfeeling bitch. She was
sweet, vulnerable, and almost shy. At least thats what he had seen that day in her
office, and at his house. She usually tried to keep up a strong front, but he had
seen beyond it. Was she maybe pushing him back because hed seen too much?
Did she think he would hurt her, now that shed let her shield down?
The thought was like a revelation, and he looked up, seeing her with new eyes.
And what he saw was Buffy in Spikes arms, her shield firmly in place. She was
showing her strong front, the tough business-woman, while being with him,
Angel, she hadnt been able to hold it up. He couldnt help the smile creeping up
his face.
What? Willow demanded beside him.
Nothing, he shook his head, chuckling slightly. Im sorry for Anyways. So how
come you and Buffy are such good friends?
She beamed at him, Thats the spirit, she said approvingly, Alright then, let me
start with the day Buffy came to our Highschool
*****
Kathie shut down the computer at her office, then looking up she frowned at
Wesleys closed door. It was already half past five, and he hadnt made an
appearance since lunchtime, and that was highly untypical for him. At least ever
since theyd kissed in this office, and since shed taken him home to dinner.
Ever since then their relationship had undergone a drastic change.
Kathie couldnt remember ever having been so happy before in her life. For the
first time she was in love, truly, madly, deeply, and she wanted to burst with
happiness. And Wesley seemed the same. Gone was the reserved professor, the
cool Englishman, and he was replaced by an attentive friend, who laughed a lot,
and who was taking her out for dinner, or just a cup of coffee. They were talking
a lot, and laughing even more. And it was heaven.
He hadnt actually said anything about his feelings, but she wouldve been blind
not to see that he liked to be with her, that he enjoyed her company, and that he
liked their discussions about literature, or the world in general. And Kathie was
determined to show him that age difference was not a problem with them. She
desperately wanted him to see that she could be an equal partner, in mind - and
in body.
Not that they had even attempted to take that step. No, Wesley was the perfect
gentleman. Hed kissed her again, twice even, but he had never tried to take it any
further. A part of her was glad for it, for she was still not quite sure how shed
react to such attention, but she could also feel a nagging disappointment, a very
feminine longing, to be united with the man you loved. And that frightened as
much as it excited her.
Did the excitement mean that she was finally over her fear? That she was
finally - after years of panic and nightmares - free to feel like a woman again?
Normal? God, the word sounded too good to be true. But on the other hand,
could she really trust this feeling? Or would she freeze the moment his hand
touched her skin, the moment she realised this wasnt going to end with a kiss
and a smile? God, she was still such a mess. Even after all those years this one
night still haunted her, still wouldnt let go.
Kathie?
Forcing herself back to the present, she turned to see Wesley standing in the
door of his office. Yes? she managed, glad her voice sounded normal and firm.
Would it be okay if you took the bus tonight?
She narrowed her eyes, his voice sounded - different. Tired. He had driven her
home each night the last ten days, so this was new, too. Sure. I already told you,
you didnt have to drive me all the time.
No, he shook his head, and for the first time she saw the shadows of weariness
in his eyes.
Instantly alert, she stood, walked to him. There were lines around his mouth
she hadnt seen during lunch. Bewildered she reached for his arm, Wesley? What
happened?
His eyes were slightly unfocussed, and although he was looking at her, Kathie
had the feeling he was more looking through her. Panic rose quickly, Wesley?
Her voice was sharper now, concerned.
Nothing. He absentmindedly patted her hand, gave her a fleeting smile.
Everything is alright. Or it will be. Soon. He gave her another of this fleeting
smiles, then turned to walk back into his office.
But she was having none of it. She held on to his arm, forced him to look at
her again, Wesley, youre scaring me. Are you ill? Is it your family? Is someone
hurt? She knew he still had parents living in England. Maybe something had
happened to one of them.
He looked at her for a long moment, before he closed his eyes, rubbed them,
and sighed. No, they are fine. When he opened his eyes again, they were bleak,
Youre going to hear it sooner or later anyway, Kathie. So it might very well be
sooner. A second, heavy sigh followed the first, And I would understand if you
dont want to be here anymore, I meanWesley, tell me, she demanded, panic knotting her gut into a tight ball. Tell
me!
Ive been temporarily suspended from my position, he said finally, and then he
locked his eyes with hers, A student has accused me of sexual harassment.
Go to Part 11
Blissful Encounter
Part 11
He was ignoring her. Not, she told herself firmly, that it mattered. Hed
accompanied her as a friend, nothing more, and she had only asked him because
she hadnt wanted to come on her own, anyway. And she enjoyed Spikes
attention. Spike who seemed attached to her side like a leech ever since hed
pulled her out to the dance floor. Not that she was listening to anything he was
saying. Instead her attention kept wandering to Angel, who was standing with she had to narrow her eyes for a moment to recognize the woman - Claire
Halloway! Dammit, why on earth did it have to be Claire? Shed been Buffys
Highschool nemesis, the self-declared Queen of Highschool, the girl who had
beaten her year after year, except one, in the run for Homecoming Queen.
And now she was clinging to Angel like a climbing plant. And he even seemed
to enjoy it, he smiled, laughed, accepted the drink she was handing him. He was
laughing again. And now he even winked! Buffy felt her insides clench
traitorously. She didnt care, dammit! Angel was no more than a friend, if even
that, there was no reason for her to feel something that was strangely close to
jealousy.
Jealousy! Pah!
The only reason her gut was twisting heavily was simply because shed always
hated Claire Halloway. Or course that had to be the explanation. It had nothing at
all to do with jealousy. Nothing.
Content with her own reasoning, she managed to tear her gaze away from the
man who was supposed to be her companion for the evening, and turned to the
one who had turned out to be, beaming at him brightly. Spike, Im rather thirsty.
Would you mind getting me something cold and not too sweet?
Sure, he replied with a wink, then disappeared in the crowd surrounding the
beverages. She looked after him, the guy she had lusted after in Highschool,
feeling absolutely nothing. He was a nice guy, witty, fun to be with, but he was
also not tall enough, although he was still taller then she, he was too skinny,
although she could also do with a few more pounds as Cordy had pointed out
recently. And he was blond, although so far shed preferred blondes to any other
colouring in a man.
So far, yeah, but not anymore. Thanks to a certain someone she choose not to
mention her whole world was hanging askew and she didnt like it. Not one bit.
Thanks to Angel no other man seemed tempting enough, not even the guy shed
been dreaming about all through her teenage years.
Disgusted with herself, and her own weakness, she turned only to come face to
face with, Willow!
The redhead raised her brows and barely suppressed a grin, How nice to see
you again. Are you Buffy, by any chance? The friend I wanted to meet tonight,
but who got lost with a certain bleached blond man who once was the star of her
colourful teenage dreams?
I am so sorry, Buffy put a hand on her friends arm and gave her a regretful
look.
With a dismissive gesture, Willow put the other woman at ease, Dont worry.
Were going to see each other next weekend. But Liam seemed slightly shall we
say disturbed at the way Spike has been monopolizing you.
Her gaze travelling to the man in question, the blond snorted, Yeah, sure. Thats
why hes been drooling over Claire all night.
So you do care?
Whirling around, Buffy looked into the slightly amused face of the woman
whod been her friend for so long. Whats that supposed to mean? she asked.
Oh, nothing, Willow grinned, Just that you did your best tonight to
demonstrate how little you care for him. Thats not the way to get a man, you
know.
The blondes eyes narrowed instantly, I dont want to get him, as you put it. Hes
a friend, nothing more.
He is? the redheads brows rose again, Strange, I got the very distinct
impression that there is something between you. The way you two look at each
other - especially if youre sure the other isnt noticing.
I am not looking at him that way! Buffy said firmly. No way she did care for
Angel that way. He was nice, granted, and sexy, sure. But thats where it ended.
Couldnt Willow see that? He is a friend.
Yeah, you keep saying that, and Im wondering if its merely to convince
yourself.
Before Buffy was able to respond to that outrageous statement, Spike appeared
again, hading her a glass. Here, club soda with lemon. I hope thats okay.
Fine, thanks, she beamed at him, even more brightly than before. So maybe
she was sexually attracted to Angel, okay, maybe even strongly, but that didnt
mean she was God, this was ridiculous. She ignored Willows meaningful look,
and sipped from her drink. Maybe it was going to help her to cool down. She felt
so hot, she was already wondering if the room was overheated.
*****
Sexual harassment? Kathie stared at Wesley in shock, her eyes wide and
disbelieving, he felt her hand tremble on his arm. What was she going to think of
him now? She hadnt said a lot about her past, but hed gotten the distinct
impression that somewhere a man had forced himself on this sweet, vulnerable
woman and left deep scars in her soul. How was she going to react to such an
accusation? Would she run in horror? Or merely retreat to a safe distance? Either
way, he wasnt sure he could stand it. To see her looking at him in disgust was
more he was able to bear.
Yes, he nodded, patting the hand on his arm, One of my students made an
official complaint. The Powers have suspended me from my post as long as the
case is not decided.
Her hand fell from his arm, and he smiled sadly, having expected her to do
exactly that. But he almost jumped out of his skin when she suddenly shouted,
How dare they?
His head shot around, and he found himself staring at five feet four inches of
enraged woman. Her eyes were shooting fire, and her hands were clenched into
tight fists at her sides. How dare they! she repeated, her voice rising even more,
This is ridiculous. You would never do such a thing. Cant they see that?
Wesley was hardly able to believe what was happening right in front of him,
and stuttered, Y-you dont think I I mean
Of course not, she snorted. This is so utterly ridiculous. You would never force
yourself on a woman, much less one of your students. Her voice lowered, her
eyes softened, I know you, Wes. And I trust you. Do you think I would if I
thought you capable of such things?
He was humbled beyond words by her trust, and was hardly able to speak, his
throat so tight, he had to swallow over the lump that had formed there. Kathie.
Her name was all that came out, and he didnt know how it happened, but
suddenly her arms were wrapped around his waist, and he felt her hot breath
through the thin material of his shirt.
Kathie, he repeated, holding her tight. You dont know what this means to me.
To see you believe in me.
Of course I believe in you. As I said, her head came up, and a smile bloomed
on her features, I know you. And besides, I have a brother who happens to be a
detective. You see, well have this solved in now time.
At that he couldnt help himself. Before he could contemplate his next move, he
was already kissing her.
*****
It was about ten p.m. when Angel found himself seriously wondering why hed
been stupid enough to go this darned Highschool reunion. Or rather why hed
given in. No, that wasnt true. Given in wouldve required persuasion, right? But
instead of making himself hard to get, hed all but jumped into that car, thrilled
by the idea that he could spend some hours at Buffys side.
What a joke.
Instead of feeling cheerful because he was with the woman of his dreams, hed
had to spend the last three hours watching her flirting with Spike, dancing with
Spike, or just being near the annoying blond guy. If hed be wearing a tie - like
most of the other guys at the party - hed yank it off and throw it on the ground in
frustration. And if watching Buffy with Spike wasnt enough, hed been forced to
endure the attentions of Claire Halloway, who - as he knew now - had been
Buffys Highschool nemesis, and who obviously found it extremely amusing to
hit on the guy whod come with Buffy Summers.
At least he was safe from her now, Angel mused with an inward sigh. That was
the good part. The bad part was that he was now standing with Willow, Tara,
Buffy, and of course Spike, who didnt seem to be able to make a step on his
own. Angel looked at his hands, then at his rivals throat, assessing how well the
former would fit around the latter.
Hardly to believe his own train of thoughts, Angel took a deep breath. This
was going too far, if he was keeping this up, he was going to snap tonight and do
something stupid. Like maybe beating the other guy up. Not that he actually
deserved it. If he was honest with himself, Angel had to admit that Spike had
done nothing to deserve his wrath. Buffy was the one who had brought him, but
he couldnt be angry with her either. He liked to think it was because she was
doing what she was doing unconsciously, but he had the feeling that being angry
with her just wasnt part of his software, as Fred would call it.
Admit it, Angel, he thought with not a little amount of resignation, youre
completely besotted with this woman. And after watching her tonight, he wasnt
so sure anymore if this was a good thing.
Damn, this had never happened to him before. There had been women in his
life, but so far, Angel had always managed to keep control over his relationships,
if you could call them that. Some of them had been extremely short-lived,
although he didnt do one-night-stands, always wanted to at least care for his
partner, even if their connection didnt last long. But with Buffy, so it seemed, he
was swimming in an ocean, the shore nowhere in sight, and he was more than a
little afraid of drowning. Because one thing he knew for certain, Buffy had the
power to hurt him - badly, and he wasnt sure if he was going to recover any time
soon - if ever.
He was just trying to focus back on the conversation floating around him,
trying not to be annoyed by another one of Spikes flat jokes, when his cell phone
rang. Four pairs of startled eyes turned towards him, and he gave them an
apologetic glance, before he pulled it from his pocket, and flicked it open, Yeah?
Angel, its me.
Kathie? A sick feeling immediately settled in his stomach. His sister never
called him. Never. Except in a case of emergency. What happened? Are you
alright?
Im fine, came her voice from the other end, but she sounded anything but. In
fact she sounded distressed. Im so sorry to interrupt your evening with Buffy, but
this isnt about me. And Im so so angry, I had to call.
Realising that the others were trying to understand what was going on, he
covered the mouthpiece for a second, Its my sister. Im sorry, this seems to be
urgent. He turned away then, concentrating on his sisters voice. Now, tell me,
Kat, whats going on? He listened intently as she explained the reason for her
call, described Wesleys situation. I didnt know, she said finally, when you would
be home tonight, thats the only reason I called. Wes is worried sick. We need to
do something.
He didnt want to but he had to ask. You are sure he is innocent?
Of course.
Alright, baby, Ill try to leave here as soon as possible. Tell Wes, Gunn and I
will be with him first thing tomorrow morning. Tell him, were going to take care
of this. And do me a favour, please try to sleep. I know your care for WesYes, I do, she said firmly, and he knew her well enough that she was really
serious about the guy.
Okay. Call him. Tell him what I told you. We will talk tomorrow. Ill try to
leave soon, but its a two hour drive, so I wont be back before midnight.
Alright. He heard the relief from the other end, and the rolling in his gut
settled. Thanks. I love you.
Love you, too.
With that he switched the phone off, and turned, locking his eyes with Buffys.
She might have ignored him for the better part of the night, but he couldnt let it
matter right now. He wouldve loved to have found another way to get home,
giving her the cold shoulder for a change. But this was too important, hed just
have to nurse his own hurt feeling.
Thas was Kathie. She needs me to come home as soon as possible. Shes
terribly upset because a friend is in trouble. He didnt say Wesleys name but he
saw the understanding dawn in Buffys eyes, and nodded, Im sorry, I didnt mean
to break this up, but this is important and I need to go. Now. Willow, Tara, Im
terribly sorry.
No problem, the redhead gave him an understanding smile, We understand.
Of course, Tara added.
Buffy didnt hesitate a second, snapping her purse from the near by table, Then
come. Will, Tara. Well see each other next weekend. Spike, it was good to see
you again, and Im sorry this has to end so abruptly, but you heard. This is an
emergency.
Baby sister calling the big brother, huh? Yeah, of course the white knight has
to ride to the rescue, he said flippantly in an attempt to make another joke.
But Angel had had just about enough of the always witty, always chatty Mr.
Stevens, whose real first name he still didnt know. There had to be real name,
hed decided earlier. No mother in her right mind would call her son Spike
He whirled around, nailing the other man with what he hoped would be a
murderous gaze, and only Buffys warm hand on his chest prevented him from
grabbing Spike at his throat. Angel, she said softly, but firmly. Think about
Kathie. And Spike, her eyes were suddenly cool, her voice even icier, this was
uncalled for. You dont know what this is about, so keep out of it. Angel, she put
her other hand on his arm, pulling him with her towards their coats, lets go.
He followed her, but shot the other man a last warning glance before they left.
He had the feeling it wasnt the last hed seen of Spike Stevens.
Part 12
From the corner of her eye she saw glimpses of him whenever the moonlight
fell over his features. His jaw was set, his eyes staring straight ahead, and there
was nothing relaxed about his posture. In fact he was so tense, she was expecting
him to crack at the merest touch.
Buffy wasnt quite sure what had caused this behaviour, if he was simply
concerned for his sister, and how she would deal with the news about Wesley, or
if she was part of it, too. Now, back in her car, with more time to think than she
cared for, she realised what a bitch shed been tonight. After purposely ignoring
his phone calls for more than a week, shed used him as her date for the party,
only to flirt with Spike the whole evening, showing Angel in the process she
couldnt care less for his company.
The problem was, she did care for his company. A lot more than it was good
for the peace of her soul. Even without his constant phone-calls she wouldnt
have been able to ban him from her thoughts. Whenever she closed her eyes she
saw his face, that outrageous grin, the deep knowledge in his dark orbs, his
uneasiness in showing her his home, unsure howd she react to it, and the way his
eyes had followed her while shed been studying his paintings.
They were another reason she hadnt been able to forget about him. Having
grown up around her step-father, her eyes had been schooled by one of the best,
and shed instantly seen the immense talent, the way Angel was able to express
his feelings with colours and style. He claimed he wasnt that good, but she knew
he was wrong. If he would concentrate on art, he could become really famous. If
others saw the things shed seen, he would be a star in no time.
She was fascinated by the personality shining from the paintings, the devotion,
she could see in each stroke of the brush, the way he was playing with colours
and emotions was simply breathtaking. Even if she hadnt seen the man behind
them, she wouldve had a hard time forgetting about him.
As it was, the man himself was sitting beside her, tension still radiating from
him, doing his best to ignore she was there at all. Finally she couldnt stand it
anymore, and asked, Are you ever going to tell me why your sister called? Or
are you going to punish me by pretending Im not here.
You mean because I had such a good time tonight? has asked right back, and
although his voice was controlled, she could hear the anger in it.
She sighed, knowing that his accusation was only fair. She had been ignoring
him all night after all. Im sorry. I know I behaved badly tonight. I I dont know
what came over me why I she sighed again, realising she was lying through her
teeth. She knew very well why she had behaved like a bitch tonight, but she
wouldnt, couldnt deal with it right now, and came back to her first subject, So
are you going to tell me? Only if you want, that is.
He seemed to contemplate it for a moment, then she saw his shoulders relax
slightly, before he said, It was about Wes. It seems hes been accused of sexual
harassment by one of his female students.
Buffy almost did a double take at that, He, what? But I cant believe it. She
almost had to laugh, and she wouldve, hadnt she already seen what an accusation
like that could do to a person. Especially to a man as sensitive as Wesley. She
didnt know him very well, but from their evening shed gotten the impression he
genuinely cared for Kathie Sullivan, and that he wasnt the kind of guy who
forced himself on women.
I can see why Kathie is concerned, she said with a side-glace at Angel, These
kind of accusations can be quite serious.
Yes, she is, and I agree that it can be a serious offense, he replied, relaxing
another bit. She cares a lot about him, and although Im still not quite certain
what to think of their involvement She hasnt cared for a man that way since-. He
stopped abruptly, a frown appearing on his forehead for a moment. It was gone
quickly and he went on, Anyways. I didnt want to separate from you friends.
There was an emphasis on the word friends, Buffy noticed easily. Spike and I
go a long way back. I had a thing for him in Highschool. Nothing ever came of
it. He had a steady girlfriend then. She was older than me, beautiful, and very
possessive. And he was totally in love with her. And besides, I already
apologised for my behaviour tonight. I am really sorry, I shouldnt have ignored
you the way I did. And just for the record, Spike and I are just friends.
Could have fooled me, he muttered, but shed heard it nevertheless
Okay, yeah, I might have gone a little overboard tonight, she agreed,
remembering the fluttering lashes, the bright smiles shed given Spike. But,
Angel, the problem isShe never finished her sentence, because that very moment there was a loud
noise, and then the car severed on the road. Buffy gripped the wheel tightly,
trying to hold the car on track. She was an experienced driver, but even her
experience didnt prevent the car from slipping from the road into the bushes,
where it came to an abrupt halt.
Are you alright?
She heard the concern in Angels voice as he tried to fee himself of the safetybelt. Yes, yes, Im fine. Just a bit shaken. Which was a true understatement. She
felt her insides flip, and her hands, still lying on the wheel, had started to
tremble. What was that?
A guess? Angel reached for the door, pushed it open, Id say one of your tyres
just ended its long and dutiful life.
Her eyes widened, You mean I have a flat? Oh, no, please no. A flat tyre. They
were on a Highway, in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere, and it
wasnt very likely another car would pass them any time soon. This was great.
Just wonderful. Why on earth was this happening to her? And why tonight of all
nights?
Angel nodded before climbing out, careful not to get caught in the bushes,
Thats exactly what I think. After a moment he appeared at her door, pulling it
open, Yup, he held out his hand for her, The hind left is beyond saving.
She stared at him, still trying to understand what hed told her. She had a flat
tyre. Which meant Are you absolutely, undoubtedly sure?
A small frown appeared on his forehead, as if he might question her hearing, or
her sanity, or maybe both. Okay, I admit Im not exactly the expert on flat tyres.
But see for yourself, this one, he nodded at the one in question, looks definitely
flat to me. He must have seen the colour rush from her face, because he hurried
on, Hey, thats no reason to faint. I might not be an expert, but I have changed
tyres now and then. Well have this little baby running again in now time.
He turned and walked towards her trunk. He wouldnt have guessed her to be
the panicky type, but obviously hed been wrong. He reached for the button to
open the trunk, but before he even touched it, her voice stopped him cold. Thats
no use. There isnt anything there.
What the hell What do you mean, there isnt anything there? Despite her words
he opened the trunk and was greeted by emptiness.
She could see the incredulity in his eyes, and smiled sheepishly. Uhm no spare
tyre, that is. I uh My sister moved about two weeks ago. I helped her and to have
more space
you removed the spare tyre, he finished her sentence, running a hand through
his hair, at the same time exhaling loudly, on an expletive. He didnt use them
regularly, but tonight might just be the time. This night certainly couldnt get
much worse. Which means were stranded in this goddamn wilderness in the
middle of the night.
Its not the wilderness, she argued, raising her chin at his hidden accusation. No
way she was going to spend a whole night endless hours with Angel in the
confined space of a car. No way. Nuh-uh. Denial would never work in such close
quarters. Were right beside an Highway. Someone will come soon. People did
drive during the night. She and Angel did it. Certainly someone would come
Yeah, sure, he shook his head, then chuckled slightly, although it didnt exactly
sound amused. Get real, Buffy. The way I see it, were going to spend the night in
your car, if we like it or not. Because I dont see anyone coming to our rescue.
Well, we do have our cell phones, she replied, already diving into the car to get
hers. We can callWhat? Youre going to keep the local sheriff or whoever is going to come from
his well-earned sleep just because you forgot to put the spare back in your car?
He slightly tilted his head, On a second thought, thatd be exactly what someone
like you would do.
No, Im not going to call the local sheriff. Never heard anything about roadside
help, huh? With that she punched some buttons on her cell, waited for the other
party to answer. When nothing happened she tried it again, listened, then with a
disgusted snort stuffed the phone back in her pocket. Just my luck, she muttered,
The line is out of order due to temporary technical problems. She threw her
hands in the air. God, this cant be happening. Its a nightmare.
You act as if the worlds going to end. Angel slightly shook his head.
I just dont care for a night in a car and What did you mean by saying, someone
like me? she asked suddenly when she remembered his words from before. Like
me, what? What do you think I am?
He held up his hands, Forget it, alright? Im not in the mood for this. He rubbed
a hand over his tired eyes. Why in Gods name had he ever agreed to go with her
tonight? He looked at her, standing in the moonlight, her party dress clinging to
her womanly curves, her legs long and tempting. And he also saw her big,
expressive eyes, clouded with a mixture of anger and worry, and her mouth, rich
and full, and oh so tempting. And he knew only too well why hed come with her.
Damn his hormones. Hed never had problems controlling them before, but ever
since Buffyd appeared in his life, nothing seemed to be like it was anymore.
You are not in the mood? she shot back, her voice rising. You insult me or at
least I think you did, and then you just end the discussion?
I dont want to discuss it, okay? he replied, trying to keep his voice down. We
will spend the night together in this car. Maybe we shouldnt try to make it even
more uncomfortable by fighting. Remembering Kathie who was still waiting for
him at home, he reached for his cell-phone.
Her eyes narrowed slightly at that, Are you going to call for help now?
Ignoring the sarcasm in her voice, he didnt look up while punching the
number, No, as you said, the line doesnt work. Im going to give Kat a call. She
needs to know where I am or she might worry.
Suddenly feeling like an insensitive heel, Buffy quickly looked away, ran a
hand through her long hair. Of course Angel was going to call Kathie. That was
showing again what kind of guy he was. And why shed liked him from the start.
He would be perfect, if Damn. Dont go there. Especially not now. Youre going to
spend the night with the man. Okay, so nothings going to happen, she thought,
trying to ignore the little pang of disappointment, but still. He is right, we should
try to get along tonight. But hey, shed told him she was sorry, right?
She heard him talk to his sister, explain why hed be delayed, then he laughed
slightly. Kathie sends you her best, he told her. She said its just my luck to strand
with a flat tyre and to have to spend the night with a beautiful woman. She
offered to come and get us, but I could convince her to stay with Wes. I think he
needs her a lot more right now.
Its my fault, remember, she snapped, feeling her gut flutter at his words. Did
he really think she was beautiful? Her mouth was suddenly dry and she had to
clear her throat before she was able to continue, Okay, then. Maybe we should
you know, talk about how were going to do this.
He chuckled at that, Not to repeat myself, but I cant believe you never spend a
night in a car. On the other hand, people like youShe was in his face before he could finish the sentence, And here we go again.
What the Hell do mean by that. People like me? What kind of person am I?
God, she was adorable, with the fury darkening her eyes, the righteous anger
sparkling in them. His pants suddenly felt too tight. Gunn was right. His friend
had told him he needed to get laid. And he was right. Angel needed sex, a lot of
it. But the problem was, he didnt want to have it with just any woman. He
wanted Buffy. Unfortunately she didnt want him. He still couldnt believe hed
been so wrong about her, shed been so responsive during their kiss at his house,
but tonight her actions couldnt have been clearer had she hit them home with a
slash-hammer.
She was still looking at him, a furious goddess in the pale light of the moon,
her hair almost white, she had an eeriness about her that took his breath away.
Tell me, she demanded.
All he wanted was to take her and kiss her senseless. Look, I didnt mean toNo, she put her hands at her hips, You are not going to do it again. I want an
answer, now. This was a lot safer, than all the other feelings racing through her.
He was standing close, too close, and even with his clothes rumpled from the
car, and the weariness etched in his face, he was simply too damned attractive.
Angel would at least help her to get her mind from straying. This way she could
blame her anger for the furious beating of her heart. And besides, his accusations
really infuriated her. She had an idea what they were about, and she didnt like
them one single bit.
God, she was beautiful. He tried to pay attention to her anger, tried to focus on
her question, but it was in vain. All he could think about was the tempting
woman in front of him, x-rated images flashing through his mind. How would
she look, naked, bathed in moonlight, slick with sweat? Jesus, he was going to
lose it.
He quickly turned away, but before he could even draw a calming breath, she
grabbed his arm, pulled him back to her, forced him to look and then it
happened.
You know what she started, but the words died on her lips. Their eyes locked
and held. Buffy felt her mouth go dry, felt her voice clog in her throat, felt her
knees go weak. The raw passion she saw in his eyes was like a shot of
aphrodisiac.
Like a wildfire initiating from a single flame they were in each others arms.
But this time it wasnt the kind of kiss theyd shared in his house. There was
nothing of the romantic tension, the heating passion. No, this was urgent,
groping like teenagers their hands were seeking contact.
Angels lips raced over her face, as if there wasnt enough time left to taste
every inch of her, while he crushed her against him, her lips showing him the
same frenzy need he felt deep inside. When their mouths finally met, they parted
instantly so their tongues could meld, so they could deepen the kiss before it
really began.
Angel lifted her from the ground, devouring her mouth again, her legs coming
around his waist with a will of their own, and she moaned deep in her throat
when she felt the cold surface of the car behind her, his hips grounding into her
again, showing her the extent of his need, initiating the same in her. She felt the
warmth between her legs, and suddenly didnt care that it was betraying
everything shed so desperately tried herself to convince of. Right now, all she
could feel, all that mattered, was the body close to her own, the head radiating
from him, the arousal she could not only feel pressing against her thigh, but on
every inch of his skin.
His shirt was ripped apart on his collar, but he didnt care. Hed never find the
buttons again, but he hadnt liked it anyway. Hed only put it on so shed be
pleased with him, so she might very well be the one to rip it off him as well. Her
hands on his bare skin felt like Heaven. God, her mouth tasted like honey, so
sweet, and tempting, and hot, and the little noises she made were driving him
crazy. There was a part of his brain that tried to remind him they were right
beside a Highway, and he was close to making love to her on the hood of her
own car, but he didnt, couldnt care. This was what hed wanted from the moment
hed seen her on the party, and although hed imagined their first time in a bed,
slow, and lasting, after tonight nothing else was possible. The tension had built
steadily, and it seemed only fair for it to erupt in an explosion of feelings.
And she couldnt touch him fast enough, completely enough. She wanted to
discover every inch of him at once. His powerful shoulders, his muscled back,
the impossible hard wall of his chest. Her entire body was on fire, burning with
need, pulsing with longing, pent up for years, or maybe forever, never sated by
the right men, the throbbing between her legs now so acute it bordered on pain.
Angel caught her wrists with one hand, pinned them to the cold surface of the
car, while the other was going to her back, opening her dress, pulled it off,
before he started devouring her. His mouth was almost rough, hungry, his teeth
slightly scraping her skin, where they were travelling down her neck, towards
the valley between her breasts, remaining there for a moment, unclasping the
front lock of her bra, then lower still, to her navel.
When his tongue delved inside, she arched from the car, the sweet torture he
was inflicting on her almost too much to bear. Her legs came around him once
again, and she tried to free her hands, wanted to touch him, wanted to open what
he still kept hidden from her. But she shouldnt have worried. Before she could
finish the thought, she heard a zipper open, then heard him groan, God, I cant
wait.
Then dont, she returned on a hiss, gritting her teeth against the ache between
her legs. Dont wait, she urged him again. I want this. Now.
And he didnt need any other encouragement. When he slipped inside, it was so
powerful, they both cried out at the final completion. And then they were
rocking together, holding each other, taking and giving.
As they sank into oblivion, Angel knew without a doubt that he was lost. To
her, to his feelings. It might be wrong, but there was no going back now, there
was no way he could, and more importantly, would change it. And when he cried
out her name, it was on a declaration of love.
Part 13
There was something eternally beautiful about a sunrise. The way the darkness
slowly faded, giving way to the light, like death making room for a new life.
And although no sunrise was like the other, there was also something familiar,
the steady rising of hope, of light winning over darkness.
Angel usually loved the sunrise, loved to watch the day being born. He would
take a deep breath, enjoy a steaming mug of coffee, the quietness of the early
hour peaceful and promising at the same time. This morning however, he wasnt
able to pay attention to the spectacular way the sun rose behind the horizon, and
peace simply wouldnt come.
The realization that he was in fact in love with Buffy Summers had left him
shaken and restless. Hed suspected it for a while, truth to be told, hed suspected
it right from the start, that she could be dangerous for the peace of his mind, but
last night, while the waves of orgasm had swept over them, hed known it for
certain. Crying out her name at the peak of passion, he had done it from the
depth of his soul, had known that he was lost, even though hed heard the alarm
bells ring in his head, even though he knew it left him open for hurt and pain.
But nothing mattered, could matter, besides this burning fire inside, that left no
room for anything else.
He hadnt been able to sleep after theyd finally made it inside the car, after
theyd satisfied their needs again, this time with her on top, her hair gleaming
above him, her pale skin shining in the moonlight. It had been on the ground that
second time, and Angel still felt the abrasions on his butt. At least they hadnt
done it on the hood of the car again. Jesus, on the hood of a car! Hed never lost
control like that before. Nothing had mattered anymore, not the danger of being
discovered and locked up for immoral behaviour, not the strange location, the
only thing that mattered was that he was finally able to fulfil his hunger, his
need, and that Buffy had been doing the same.
She might deny it today, but yesterday night shed wanted him as much as he
wanted her, the second time on the ground initiated by her lips, her need for
more. Shed instantly fallen asleep then, sprawled atop of him, and for a moment
hed considered staying like this, savouring the feeling of her so close to him for
the rest of the night. But reason had finally won out, and hed carried her inside,
tried to make her comfortable in the backseat, her soft snores causing an ache
deep inside his chest, a longing for her to be always near, always by his side.
It wasnt going to happen, though. He was too much of a realist to believe that
one - or two - quick romps in the wilderness - not that they it felt like this for
him, but undoubtedly Buffy would see it that way - would change a single thing.
At least not for her. For him it had changed everything. But he knew without
doubt that she wouldnt see it that way. Would she be embarrassed by her wanton
behaviour, he wondered? Not that he minded it, or that it had been wanton at all.
Shed been magnificent, and hed not been able to look away from her face, with
passion darkening her eyes, her mouth opening in a silent cry, her features slack
with satisfaction. Shed been so beautiful, hed wanted to paint her, to preserve her
like that, but knew that no painter, even if he was a master of art, could catch that
beauty.
Hed slipped from the car an hour ago, suddenly needing the fresh air, only a
morning could provide, but he didnt admire the sunrise as usual, he just stood
there, beside the car, his eyes closed, his thoughts racing. Ten minutes ago hed
managed to surface enough to alert the sheriff of their problem, and the man had
promised to send the local mechanic with a spare tyre. Maybe he should wake
Buffy now, Angel thought, but the mechanic wouldnt appear before eight, and as
it was only seven now, he decided to let her sleep a while longer. And this wasnt
entirely unselfish. At least as long as she slept he could pretend she wouldnt
react the way he dreaded, at least for those few minutes his heart would still stay
intact.
Closing his eyes, he raised his head to the sun, and thought about Buffy in his
arms, with words of love on her lips.
*****
Her legs felt cramped. They sometimes did, especially after a restless sleep,
with tossing and turning, or when Riley was lying in her bed, taking almost the
whole space. He was a sound sleeper, but tall and broad, and her bed wasnt made
for men of his size. Well, that - of course - wasnt entirely true, but it was another
argument she had added to her long list why breaking up with the - according to
her mother- catch of the year had been a good thing. At least she would have her
bed for her own from now on. Yes, that was definitely a good thing.
But in consequence it also meant that Riley couldnt be the cause for her
cramped legs. With a groan she rolled, stretching her aching extremities, only to
come in contact with something hard and unyielding.
Hard and unyielding?
In her bed?
Her eyes shot open and she bolted upright, gasping as she found herself staring
at the familiar interior of her car.
Where she had spent the night.
After having sex.
On the hood.
((Oh God!)
And on the ground.
((God. God. God.))
With Angel.
((Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.))
Her heart pounding wildly in her chest, her breath coming in short, panicked
gasps, she frantically started searching for her shoes, found them underneath the
front seat, her mind racing.
((God, what am I going to do?))
There was no denying it. Shed had sex with Angel, and not just sex, hot, wild,
steamy, satisfying ((no dont go there)) sex. More satisfying than she could
remember ever having had before. ((Stop that!)) She closed her eyes, groaning
inwardly at the images of her lying on the car, whimpering in pleasure,
demanding more. God, it had been mind-blowing. She hadnt known sex could be
like that. It wasnt like the stuff she remembered. With Parker, or Riley, or others.
Not that there had been that many, but still. There was simply no comparison.
When Cordy had told her about it, she had inwardly rolled her eyes, not
believing one word. But now she knew. Knew it very well.
The problem was, mind-blowing or not, it didnt change anything. Angel was
still Angel, and he was still several years younger than her. Was it even possible
a relationship between them could work? There wasnt just their age, they were
coming from completely different backgrounds too, leading different lives. She
came from money, and from what shed understood, Angel did not. She was a
successful executive in her company, while Angel was struggling to get his
business on its feet. Okay, they had art in common, and admittedly great sex, but
could it be enough? And *what* the hell was she thinking anyway? A
relationship? With Angel? There was no way they could have a relationship
together.
And she didnt even want to think about her mothers reaction to this. To say
Joyce would be shocked was putting it mildly. Not that she usually cared what
her mother thought, but after the blow Buffy had delivered by dumping Riley,
she wasnt sure her mother was up for another *surprise*. And besides, she didnt
even want to have a relationship with Angel, right? Right! It was not only
impossible, but madness. Sheer madness. She should be admitted to a mental
institution for merely thinking it.
But maybe she could be excused this once. After a night like this she was
probably entitled to think crazy thoughts. Like dating Angel. Living with Angel.
Or at least having sex with him. Again.
Instantly she felt herself growing warm all over, her skin tingling at the mere
thought of his lips touching it, of his clever hands finding all her sensitive spots,
making her moan, and ...
She swallowed. Hard.
Closed her eyes. God, she had to get a grip on herself. She couldnt let herself
go on like this.
A motion beside the car had her looking around, and her eyes fell on a leather
jacket outside the window. A very familiar leather jacket. The person who was
wearing the jacket was leaning against the car, arms crossed in front of his chest,
he didnt seem to pay attention to what was happening inside the car.
Angel.
She felt her heart slamming against her ribcage - one time, hard - her mouth
instantly dry again. God, this was ridiculous. She was thirty-four years old, for
Goodness sake, not some hormonally driven teenager, with a crush for a good
looking man. And Angel was a good looking man al right. More than that, he
was definitely drooling material as Cordy would say. But shed seen drooling
material before, Hell even boring Riley was not bad looking guy as long as you
didnt know him any closer. And shed known others.
Although Buffy wouldnt call herself experienced, she wasnt some fifteen year
old virgin either. Some of the men shed known had been probably even better
looking than Angel. Face it, she told herself, there isnt a rational explanation for
whats happening here. Somethings going on thats beyond her control, in a way
that excited a hidden part of her, but that mostly frightened her. In ways she
wasnt ready to admit. Not openly anyway. And not to Angel. Never, ever to
Angel.
Hey, man, that you with the flat?
Buffy hadnt even heard the truck coming, her mind occupied with images she
couldnt forget, and the man who had created them. The car that stopped behind
hers was yellow with pink stripes and Mickeys was written on its side in bold,
flashy letters in neon green, and if she guessed right, this was a mechanic Angel
had obviously called already.
Yeah, thats me, she heard Angel reply, before he pushed himself off of the car,
walked over to the truck and the man who was climbing down right this
moment. He wore an overall with the same interesting combination of colours as
the car, a Yankees baseball cap on his hat, his jaws busy with a red bubblegum.
Nice, the guy, probably Mickey, grinned and nodded at the flat tyre. Forgot the
spare, huh?
Buffy experienced a slight pang of guilt at the comment and took it as her clue
to leave the car and join the two men. It was my fault, she said without greeting.
I removed the spare tyre some weeks ago, and forgot to put it back in. Forcing
herself to look at Angel for a moment, she added, Morning.
She forgot it, huh? the mechanic chuckled, winking at Angel. Well, he shifted
his attention towards Buffy, gave her a once over that made her want to squirm,
then turned back to Angel, Wouldnt actually call it a hardship, heh? He winked
again, Nice n cosy Id say.
Buffy felt herself blush and quickly had to look away, then stiffened when she
felt Angels arm come around her shoulders. My wife and I were on the way
home when the car broke down.
The mechanics head came up sharply, Your wife? he asked, swallowing. I uh
didnt mean to, he trailed off, and Buffy saw his eyes nervously shifting from
Angel to the car and back. Ill change it now, if thats okay with you.
Yeah, go on, Angel nodded, pulling Buffy away, and leading her towards the
bushes near by. You okay? he asked. Im sorry for you know.
She didnt know why, knew that she should probably should be grateful for his
simple way to stop the mechanics dirty remarks. The man had probably thought
she was some cheap chick, and who could blame him. Her hair was certainly a
mess, and the dress couldnt look much better. Yet, somehow the Angel calling
her his wife irked her a lot more than the mechanics dirty tongue. Let go, she
hissed, wriggling away, and glaring up at him. You probably thought it was fun,
huh?
He was clearly taken aback by her hostile behaviour, but right now she didnt
care, didnt want to deal with the hurt she saw in his dark eyes. Hey, I didnt
mean-, he started, but she wouldnt let him finish.
No, she held up a hand. I dont want to hear it. She couldnt bear to be so close
to him, not now, not after what - She quickly turned away, swallowed, I just want
this over. I need to go behind the bushes for a moment. He should be done soon,
she nodded towards the mechanic, and then I want to go home. And forget that
this all ever happened. With that she stomped away, not daring to look back, but
she could feel his eyes bore into her back all the way.
*****
"Dammit. With more force than necessary, Angel slammed the door shut
behind him, wincing slightly when it rattled in its hinges. The same moment he
heard a car start and drive away, and his shoulders slumped. Double damn.
Throwing his keys on the little desk near by, he shrugged out of his jacket,
tossed it over the keys, only to find Kathie watching him from the kitchen
doorway. Great. Just what he needed right now. Interrogation and sisterly wisecrack, or even worse, compassion. Then he remembered that Kathie had troubles
of her own, and instantly felt like a heel. The man his sister cared deeply about,
was in big trouble, and it was certainly more serious than being treated like a
little boy by the woman youd made love to the night before. Twice.
I say it didnt go as planned. Kathies brows climbed as she took in her brothers
rumpled clothes, the red-rimmed and weary eyes, the dishevelled hair.
Yeah, he frowned to himself, walking past her straight towards the coffee
machine. Hed proposed theyd stop on the way for some breakfast, but Buffyd
ignored him, just driven on straight to his doorway, where she hadnt said
goodbye, or anything else for that matter. Shed just waited for him to climb out,
then driven away without a backward glance.
He poured himself a cup of coffee his sister had made already - bless her soul and cup in hand opened the fridge for something to eat.
Sit down, she ordered from behind, pushing him away. You look ready to sleep
on your feet. Want some bacon and eggs?
Sounds like heaven, he managed to force a smile on his face, then slumped
into the chair. After emptying half of his cup in one large gulp, and burning his
tongue in the process, he straightened, So, how is Wes? Maybe concentrating on
work would help him to forget about his own misery. Hed heard about that kind
of waking up from friends, with the woman looking at you as if you were a bug,
but not in his wildest dreams hed ever thought it would happen to him, or that it
would hurt so much.
Kathie shrugged without turning, What do you think? Hes dancing on the
tables. Cracking the eggs with more force than necessary, she paused for a
moment, took a deep breath, Hes miserable. I think mostly because someone can
even think he would do such a thing. He was here until after midnight, and he
kept repeating it time and again. The Dean and he have known each other for
over five years. Yet, the guy suspended him without a blink. I tried to explain
that Mr. Blackwell didnt have a choice, that the rules say he has to act that way,
but it still throws him.
Is that the reason you are here this morning? Angel asked, sipping again from
the strong coffee. Thank God his sister made it like that, because he needed it,
desperately. He felt bone weary this morning, and knew that deprivation of sleep
was only a little part of the problem.
Im here because Wes doesnt have a job right now, she replied, mixing the egg
with some milk and pepper, then pouring the mix into the pan. And if he doesnt
have a job, I dont have one either. Im his part-time secretary, remember? And he
doesnt need one - at least not for the time being.
He hated hearing the quiver in her voice, she couldnt quite hide form him.
Maybe someone else wouldnt have noticed, but they were so close, he heard it
instantly. She tried to be tough, had learned to be tough, but underneath she was
still Kathie, his little baby-sister, the one who came running into his arms after
Tommy Taylor had pushed her into the dirt with her new white dress on Sunday,
knowing her father would probably hit her for it. Angel had managed to protect
her then, shed been only four, and his old man wasnt big on hitting little girls the only good side hed ever been able to find in his father - but hed rather have
her beaten up that day, and been able to protect her later.
For a moment he closed his eyes, drew a long breath. No use in dwelling in
things you couldnt change anymore. Better focus on the things you can still
change, So this girl, he said, feeling his belly grumble at the smell coming from
the stove, the student that accused Wes of harassing her? Who is she? Whats she
like?
Shes in one of his classes, Kathie added bacon to the eggs, then put two slices
of toast on the grill, Faith Marshall. Shes from a rich background, brunette, good
looking, and knows exactly what she wants. Shes intelligent, but has never made
any effort to get her grades up. She relies on dear Daddy to even the path for her.
He sipped from his coffee again, frowned, If shes not interested in learning,
how come shes in college?
Didnt you just listen? I said she had money. And her parents know the right
people. The Mayor for one. And others. She paused for a moment, filled his
plate, then put it in front of him. Besides, Im sure although she sometimes likes
to play dumb, she isnt. Shes ... She shrugged, Who knows.
God, this smells like thanks, honey, he smiled at her, this time without effort,
So, this Faith, he shoved some egg on the toast, then savoured the taste. Maybe
hed survive this day after all - even if barely. How old is she?
Twenty-two. Shes already failed the class twice - English literature, that is, and
it seems her parents are getting fed up with her. They threatened to cut her
monthly pay-check if she isnt going to improve.
And you know all that, because , he asked, wondering if some of his PI
business had rubbed off onto his little sister. Wesley had told her last night about
the mess, and she was like a fountain of information this morning.
A smug smile appeared on her face, making her eyes sparkle, and Angel was
stunned for a moment by her beauty. God, for a moment he hated Parker Abrams
with a passion, for causing his sister eight years of anguish and unhappiness. She
seemed a lot better these days, and if he liked it or not, Wesley seemed to be a
big part of it, but she would never be the innocent girl he so much wanted her to
be. Shed lost that part in one fateful night, thanks to the ignorance of her stepbrother, and a father who hadnt cared at all.
Because Im at least as clever as Faith. Her voice pulled him back to the
present, reminding him that shed managed to pull herself out of the pits of Hell.
Would she ever know how proud he was of her, he wondered, feeling his eyes
moisten.
He quickly blinked, once, twice. There was no need to get all weepy now. She
wouldnt want his compassion anyway. She was fiercely proud of what shed
achieved, and rightfully so. So what did you do? Hack into the computer?
As a matter of fact, she grinned, when he groaned, Hey, calm down. I didnt do
anything illegal. But after you called last night, I convinced Wes to go back to
his office. So we spent two hours there at the very modern computer and I was
able to read all the files the college has on Faith. I hardly know her, Ive seen her
once or twice in the office, when she was complaining about being treated
unfairly. But thats as far as our connections go, and I intend to keep it that way.
She wouldnt be a person Id choose for a friend.
And you found all the information?
She bit her lip, Yeah me and Fred. I called Gunn last night, after I called you.
And he obviously informed your computer geek. And she instantly went to
work. Shes a genius you know?
Yeah, some genius. Angel sighed, thinking of their self-acclaimed secretary
with the big glasses, and the big eyes. Another lost soul, he thought, sighing
again. Okay, so Fred found a bit more. Still, it doesnt give us enough to nail her.
I mean, I can see what she tried to do. Because Wes wont help her get her
parents off her back, she tries to dishonour him. But only because *I* understand
that, it doesnt mean anything.
ButNo buts. He put a comforting hand on her arm, Kat, just because we believe
that hes been shammed, doesnt help. We need proof, hard proof. You just said
her parents are rich, which means that very likely theyre going to fight for their
daughter. If Im not completely wrong, theyre going to hire some big-shot lawyer
right this moment.
*****
Please, sit down Dr. and Mrs. Marshall, Faith. I can call you Faith?
Sure, the brunette, dark-eyed college-student looked at the attractive man
standing at his large oak desk, then sat down beside her parents. Her mother
pulled a hanky from her purse, elegantly holding it under her eyes, careful not to
destroy her makeup. She was sniffling and making little noises of distress, the
way shed done it ever since Faith had told her parents about that nasty professor
whod tried to get under her skirts.
Her father on the other hand sat ramrod straight, his chest puffed out, all
importance, the power of old money and connections radiating from him. He
hadnt gotten weepy at all, but furious, the way Faith had expected it. It wasnt
that he really cared about her, Faith knew, but that someone had dared to touch
something that belonged to him. Faith wasnt his wife, just his daughter, but
Frank Marshall still counted her as part of his property, like his desk, or his new
expensive German car.
So, the lawyer, Mr. MacDonald, sat down in his big leather chair, folded his
hands on his desk, then looked straight at her, Faith. Why dont you tell me what
happened with that professor, he paused for a moment, flipped through some
pages, before he gazed up again Wyndham-Pryce?
She batted her lashes, then lowered her head, faking shame, He uh tried to
touch me, she whispered, infusing her voice with just enough hoarseness to
make it believable. You know at places. For a moment she thought if that wasnt
painting it too thickly, but then pushed the thought away. Maybe the lawyer was
as dumb as her parents, buying the untouched virgin act.
He didnt. She saw it his eyes the moment they met hers. But for some reason,
maybe because her parents were going to provide for his next car, or his next
lover with the money he would get from them when this was over, he went along
with it. So he uh touched you, huh? And then?
For her parents sake she gasped, and when she heard her mother moan, she
knew shed done the right thing, I shoved him away of course. I would never let
him go that far, Im not that kind of girl. She felt her mothers hand patting her
arm in a show of comfort, and went on, But then he, she sniffed, let a tear roll
from the corner of her eye, he threatened me. He said Id see it in my grades if I
wasnt going to give in.
Mr. MacDonalds eyes were sharp as razors when they bore into her. Faith felt
like she was sliced open, and being studied on an Anatomy-table. One thing was
for certain, that lawyer was out of her league, he wasnt like her parents believing
every word she said, or not listening at all like in her fathers case. Mr.
MacDonald listened, all right. And he understood. And that happened, when? he
asked, his voice like silk, mantled with steel.
Uh two weeks ago, she admitted, holding on to the story shed already told the
Dean. And her parents. She thought about the money she got each month from
them - their pay off for not caring at all. Her mother might be weepy now, but
that didnt mean she would ever miss her Bridge-afternoon, just to do something
as trivial as talking to her daughter, and her father thought that giving her some
thousand dollars a month was enough to keep his bases covered. Her parents
didnt even care enough to notice that her grades had never been good, that they
hadnt been good for a long time. All they saw was that their 22 year old daughter
still hadnt finished college and that it was an embarrassment with their friends.
And so, in Faiths eyes, shed earned that monthly pay-check, every damned cent
of it.
Two weeks ago, the lawyer repeated, And why didnt you come out earlier with
this, why did you wait all the time?
Faith sniffed again, swallowed, then after a dramatic pause, and more sounds
of distress from her mother, she looked at Mr. MacDonald, Because I felt that
they would maybe think it was my fault, that I had doneNonsense, her father thundered, clearly at the end of his patience. An old
bookish guy sees a young attractive girl and smells summer. Thats disgusting.
And certainly not your fault. Nobody will blame you. We wont.
No they wouldnt, Faith thought. Because that would mean caring in the first
place. That sounded downright bitter, she realised, and pushed the hurt away.
She was long past that stage. She was strong these days, and hard. Nothing
would hurt her, she would keep her head up, no matter what. Thank you, Daddy,
she whispered, fishing for a hanky in her pocket, batting her eyes. That means
everything. God, she had become a first class liar, she thought.
She looked up and her eyes met Mr. MacDonalds again. A muscle in his jaw
twitched, she noticed, and his eyes were almost stormy grey now like the clouds
on a rainy day, nothing was left of the blue shed found so comforting when shed
stepped into the room . She felt herself shiver, because one thing she knew
without a doubt. He wasnt buying one word of what she was saying.
Go to Part 14
Blissful Encounter
Part 14
Angel ran both hands through his hair, dishevelling it in the process, while he
waited for the door to open. When it didnt he knocked again. He kept reminding
himself that he was doing this for his sister, that he did it because she needed his
help, or rather Wesley did, but looking into her eyes, he knew it was just the
same. He might not be thrilled that shed fallen in love with a man over 14 years
her senior, but that didnt mean he was too blind to see that her feelings for
Wesley had finally pulled her out of her shell, and that the Englishman with his
glasses and his shyness was probably the best that could happen to her.
And besides, work was good. Especially today, and especially for him. Angel
was afraid if he had enough time to think he would do something totally
emasculating and staggeringly horrifying like drive to Buffys apartment and
make a complete fool of himself. And that for a woman who probably wished
him to Hell.
Hey.
He had to blink at the girl the voice belonged to, or rather the young woman,
who was standing in the doorway, a bathing robe slung around her body, a towel
draped over her hair. So shed been in the shower, he mused, forcing himself to
smile. Hey, back. Im looking for Faith Marshall.
Faith?
Uh-oh. Was there suspicion in her voice? Angel cleared his throat, Yeah, Im
uhm a PIA Private Investigator?
Angel forced himself not to grin at the breathy admiration in her eyes that had
gone round. Yeah, he replied, letting another smile slip over his lips. The young
woman in front of him was not more than twenty years old, about five-eight tall,
and nicely rounded, and while he might have looked twice only weeks before, he
didnt feel anything. Nothing at all. Damn you, Buffy, he thought, for stealing my
heart, then stomping on it at every opportunity.
Are you working for her parents then? the girl wanted to know.
He still didnt know her name, he realised, but that could wait. Is she there? he
asked his own question, avoiding answering hers.
She stepped back, inviting him in, the way he had expected her to do. All he
knew was that she was Faiths roommate in college. And that Faith would
definitively not be in today. Hed made sure of that before hed decided to take a
look at her room, and her roommate. Nice, he commented, as soon as she closed
the door behind him.
Its okay, she said. Im sorry for you know the way I behaved when you were
standing there, but I thought you were maybe an ex-boyfriend or so. And Faith
instructed me not to let any of them in, not under any circumstances. Her voice
had dropped to a conspirational whisper, You understand.
He didnt, at least not yet, but wasnt about to let her know. Yeah, was all he
replied, letting his gaze sweep over the two neatly made beds, the posters on the
walls, the clothes hanging over the backs of chairs. It was a typical female dorm
room, nothing special to it as far as he could see. He saw a coffee machine
standing in one corner, a TV set in another. Two laptops sat on the two desks,
and for a moment he wondered if Faith ever used hers for anything but games.
Isnt that awful?
He turned and saw the girl looking at him, Awful? Oh, yes, he quickly caught
himself, It is uh ..
Tess, she laughed, a little bit embarrassed, Im Tess. Faith and I go way back.
We were in high school together.
Oh? Angel raised a brow. That part was interesting. So you know her for a
long time.
Like, forever, Tess laughed again, clearly more at ease now. Shes always been
wild, another laugh, if you understand. But its not really a surprise with her
parents ignoring her all the time.
They did? He let his eyes sweep over what he thought was Faiths desk, saw the
picture of an elderly couple, probably said parents. The mans dark hair was
sprinkled with grey, while the woman was styled perfectly, not one of her
undoubtedly dyed hairs in the wrong place. They were smiling, but there was no
warmth in their expressions. I suppose that happens now and then, he added,
thinking that he wouldve preferred a bit of ignorance from his father instead of
his constant cruelty or his drunken excesses.
Shes the typical rich girl, Tess chatted on, sitting down on her bed, Born with a
silver spoon. She had everything, but nothing. Dont understand me wrong. Her
parents arent really bad. They never hurt her, not physically. Her moms actually
quite nice, but always busy.
So Faith Marshall was the neglected society princess. Could that make her lash
out, not caring at whom? Could blaming Wesley be a way to get her parents
attention? Certainly possible. But how could he prove it?
She isnt really a bad student, Tess seemed to have warmed with the subject, not
needing any encouragement now to tell all about her friend. Shes actually very
smart. Could be an A- or at least a B-student. But instead of studying there are
guys, and guys, and guys. If you ask me its only to get back to her parents. And
last year- she suddenly stopped herself, and Angel wondered what might have
slipped from her lips. Last year? What?
Yeah, I heard. It was an audacious shot, but maybe it was his only chance. As
soon as Faith was back, Tess would tell her about the PI and this game would be
over.
Tess eyes grew round like saucers, She told you? You know about Kevin?
Angel shrugged, keeping his eyes on the picture of a girl in the arms of a boy
hed noticed between two books on the desk. The girl was tall and brunette,
smiling, but with sadness clouding her dark eyes, while the boy was fair haired,
and at least a foot taller than her. A college football player, Angel wondered?
She told you about Kevin? Tess was obviously still in awe. Wow, I thought
shed never tell anyone. Expect me of course, but then, Ive been there.
It was hard on her. It was another blind shot, but he just had to risk it. And he
almost made a scoring gesture with his arm, when he saw Tess nod from the
corner of his eye.
Yes, it was. I wouldnt want to go through this. To fall in love with a guy, to get
pregnant. Which, of course, wouldnt be really bad. But then the guy just let you
fall like a hot potato and because of your parents you have to get rid of the baby.
And you have to go through all that alone.
An abortion? Faith Marshall had had an abortion? That certainly was an
interesting piece of news. Angel turned slowly, smiling at the young woman on
the bed, Not completely alone.
She rewarded his comment with a smile on her own, No, not completely, she
agreed. Tess was a nice girl, Angel thought, and at another time, at another place
he might have been interested. She was pretty, not dumb, compassionate but she
was lacking in one very important field. She was *not* Buffy Summers.
He saw Tess bite her lip, and instantly recognized the look in her eyes. So, she
said slowly, when this is over and you are done with this case, do you think you
know. She blushed prettily. Yes, he would have been seriously tempted. And
maybe he should still take her on her offer, give in, spend some nice days with
her, enjoy Tess company. But he couldnt. All he could think of was a certain
blond whod treated him like dirt this morning. All he could see were her hazel
eyes, stormy dark with passion, her mouth, so perfect and tempting.
No, he slowly shook his head, Im sorry, but ImInvolved, she sighed dramatically, then shrugged. Just my luck. All the nice
ones are already taken.
Taken, huh? Hed given a lot if he was, but unfortunately the one he wanted,
didnt seem to want him. At least not over a quick romp on the car and the
ground. Hed been good enough for that. Angel wondered if she was crawling
back to that boyfriend of hers tonight, pretending nothing had ever happened.
God, he was a fool. A fool for falling for her. But damn, she was in his blood.
And somehow he had to find a way to show her that this wasnt as impossible as
she thought.
*****
With a groan Buffy let her forehead fall against the computer screen, instantly
pulling it backward when the heat radiating from it was uncomfortable on her
already throbbing head. Sighing she rubbed the spot with her fingers, gritted her
teeth. It was not the time to have a headache. Her boss was expecting the report
first thing next morning and with Parker breathing down her neck she couldnt
afford to screw this up. The little slimy bastard would only too gladly take over.
But only over her dead body, she vowed silently, trying to concentrate on the
words. Never again would she let him win. Never again. She still wore the scars
of that one time he didnt even seem to remember, and she wasnt eager to add
new one, although she doubted that he still had the power to hurt her the way he
once had. She wasnt the naďve little virgin anymore, shed once been.
The work she had to do wasnt really difficult, she thought with an inward sigh.
She had done it before. Often. The subject was familiar, the procedure as well,
the only thing unfamiliar was she. She couldnt remember ever having felt so
distraught before. Not during work that is. When her step-father had died shed
been devastated, but her boss had given her time off. She could hardly go to him
now and expect compassion because she couldnt forget what had happened last
night. Damn, she had to forget. Soon.
Forget. Right. Not likely. Try as she might, he was still there. She could still
feel his hands on her body, sometimes rough, sometimes gentle, could feel his
lips, like silk, his stubble scratching her skin following the path his lips took.
And worst of all, he was still in her head. As soon as she closed her eyes, as shed
done before, images of Angel kept coming. His smile, his eyes, his graceful way
of moving, the way hed been holding her on the dance-floor, and she also
remembered the hurt in his eyes before shed turned away. She hadnt been able to
look at him again, afraid to see it again, afraid to break down and do What
exactly?
Kiss him and tell him she hadnt meant it? But hadnt she? No, she thought
firmly. She hadnt wanted to hurt him, just wanted him to what? God, she had
never felt so confused and her insides were in turmoil.
So now what? Call him and tell him she was sorry? No way. If she did that, he
would see it as an encouragement, and right now she couldnt handle that. Shed
been able to give him the cold shoulder during their ride back to his house, but
without a doubt she knew that she wouldnt be able to it again. Just being close to
him made her body hum, made her senses go into overdrive. If he was near right
now, she knew shed grab him and
God, she had to stop this. But hadnt she tried to tell herself the same thing for
the better part of the day, ever since shed come awake in her car in the middle of
nowhere, remembering what had happened the night before? And see what it
brought her, she was sitting over an important project and all she could do was
think of a man. No, not just a man. She was thinking of Angel. He was in her
head, in her gut, in her heart, and on her skin. He was everywhere and obviously
he was not going to go away.
Again her gaze flickered to the computer screen, the cursor blinking madly,
waiting for her to continue, but nothing would come, her mind had shut down,
solely focussed on a face with dark eyes, and a smile that knocked your socks
clear off your feet.
When right that moment the door to her office opened without a knock, she
didnt have to look up to know who was entering.
Hey, girlfriend, hows it going?
How was she going to pull this off, Buffy wondered quickly. How was she
going to act normal around Cordelia, how was she going to pretend she was just
peachy? Her secretary, and friend, had the senses of a bloodhound and could
usually smell those things a mile against the wind. So far shed been lucky. Cordy
hadnt been there in the morning, had taken some time off for a doctors
appointment, and had no knowledge of the fact that her boss had been late. But
there was no running anymore, and so the blond raised her head, hoping her eyes
were cool and controlled. Cordy. Just the person I was waiting for. I need this
typed as soon as possible.
She fished a small tape from her purse, tossed it towards the brunette who
caught it easily in mid-air. Sure. No prob. Then after what seemed like a short
inward discussion, Cordelia stuffed the tape into the pocket of her blue slacks,
and instead of leaving she crossed the room and sat down opposite to Buffy. So,
how was your high school reunion?
Okay, the blond replied with a shrug. You know how that goes. A lot of ohs
and ahs and stuff.
Did you have a date?
Thats it, Buffy thought. Confession time. She shouldve known Cordy wouldnt
let her off with a simple explanation. Yeah, she replied, pretending to be busy
scanning the text on the screen. The truth was she knew every word of it by now.
It wasnt really difficult with only three lines written so far.
Well, the brunette leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with excitement, tell me!
Shifting uncomfortably on her chair, Buffy kept her eyes on the screen, Angel,
she mumbled, but of course Cordy had understood well
Angel? the brunettes eyebrows knit in confusion. Who is Angel?
I meant Liam, Buffy said quickly, hating her slip. Maybe part of the problem
was that she was always thinking of him as Angel. Maybe if shed tried to see
him as Liam she could be cooler about all this. Yeah. Sure. She almost laughed
out loud at that. As if the name had anything to do with it.
Liam? Cordy stared at her for a moment, then her eyes lit up with a force that
made Buffy wince, Liam! You mean sexy, leather-jacket Liam? The guy who
was so eager to get your address from me? Wow. She sat back in her chair, truly
impressed, I bet that had them all gaping with envy. Go, Buffy. She grinned
broadly at her boss, and Buffy could see that there was only genuine pleasure in
the other womans expression. In Cordys eyes Buffy had scored big time and the
brunette was glad for her.
Yeah, there was some head turning involved, the blond admitted, remembering
the looks some of her former classmates had given her. Judy at the reception had
almost forgotten to close her mouth, and not to forget Claire whod pawed Angel
all over.
Ill bet, Cordy grinned wickedly. So what happened after the official meeting. I
mean you were on your own with Liam. Yummy Liam, I may add. Did you jump
his bones?
No he jumped mine, but I didnt mind at all. Buffy felt heat rising in her cheeks,
and was glad shed been so generous with make-up this morning, trying to cover
the bags under her eyes, and the grey look of her skin after a night in a car. And I
would you tell this because? she asked, pretending to be extremely bored, hoping
her friend might get the clue.
But of course this was Cordelia sitting across from her, and Mr. and Mrs.
Chase hadnt raised their daughter to be tactful. Because Im your friend. Because
Im the one who got you two together. So you owe me. Big time.
I didnt jump his bones, Buffy said slowly, almost choking at the lie. On the
other hand it wasnt really a lie. She hadnt jumped his bones, at least not the first
time. ((Ohgodohgodohgod.)) She could already feel the heat spreading through
her body. Just the memory was enough to get her to a sizzling point.
You didnt? Cordys voice was a mixture of disappointment and disbelief. What
are you? Dead? Or a nun? A guy like Liam - Buffy something is seriously wrong
with you.
Cordy, the guy is seven years my junior, Buffy finally voiced her greatest
concern. Try as she might, she couldnt get over the age difference. She didnt
really see it as a problem this very moment, but what about in ten years? Hed be
36, in prime of his life, and she would be 44, most likely have wrinkles and other
imperfections. Would he still love her then? Or would he be disgusted, regretting
that he was committed to a woman so many years his senior? And what the
*hell* was she thinking again? Hadnt she just decided that a relationship with
him was impossible?
And that would be a problem, why exactly? The brunette crossed her arms and
tilted her head.
Because it is, Buffy replied stubbornly. Maybe if she was more like Cordy, just
living for the now, enjoying each moment, not caring for tomorrow, it really
wouldnt be a problem, but unfortunately Buffy wasnt cut that way. She always
thought about tomorrow, always needed some kind of promise, something Yeah,
sure, a little voice in her head whispered. Thats why you slept with Angel,
without a second thought tonight and withoutHer thoughts came to a screeching halt, her stomach dropping through the
bottom.
OH GOD.
OHGODOHGODOHGODOHGOD.
She swallowed. Hard. And swallowed again, all thoughts about older women
and younger men fleeing her head. From the corner of her eye she saw Cordy
uncrossing her arms, leaning forward, studying her boss curiously. No wonder,
Buffy thought, she felt as if the ground had just been knocked away under her
feet. As if the world was spinning around her.
God, she was the most stupid, irresponsible She was thirty four years old, but
that obviously didnt save you from being an idiot. Mentally counting, her heart
started to hammer. Shed never been eager to use the pill, and because Riley had
always been so considerate, theyd agreed to use condoms. But Angel hadnt used
a condom. At least not to her knowledge. She couldnt be sure about the first
time, but she was very sure about the second. Shed been the one initiating it, had
had her hands OH GOD.
She and Angel had had sex. Twice.
And without any protection.
Part 15
Black was definitely reflecting her mood, but maybe her mother would get
suspicious. Joyce had a sixth sense where her daughter was concerned, maybe
something all mothers had in common. Yellow would instantly rise her mothers
hackles. She never wore yellow, so why should she now. And red - hadnt she
read something about red being aggressive?
Buffy stared into her closet, annoyed with her own indecision. It was only a
dinner with her mother, for heavens sake. Maybe shed just take blue or green. A
neutral colour. Yeah, light blue would be good. She grabbed the long sleeved
dress, sighing slightly. Shed never particularly liked it, but for tonight it would
do.
She stood staring into her mirror, hairbrush in hand. Down or up? Up was
showing control, making her sophisticated, giving her the image of a cool
business-woman. On the other hand she never wore her hair up out of the office.
She sighed again, threw the brush onto her dressing table, moving from
annoyance with herself to irritation.
Stepping into her black pumps, she sighed for the third time - deeply. He had
taken over her thoughts, her feelings, her very life. It was physical, she told
herself. Shed never thought herself to be such a physical woman - although she
knew she could be passionate - yet since shed known Angel, cool and reserved
Buffy had to force herself to keep from moaning at the mere reminder of his
touch. It was all she could do to keep her mind on work.
Usually she would say get the physical out of the way, so she could regain
control of her mind and gain some perspective. The problem was, they had done
the physical already, but instead of feeling sated and contend, the way it had
been with the other men in her life, she craved more. And that - on top of her
recent discovery that shed been too eager to even think about protection - made
her doubt her own sanity.
She reached for her wide leather belt and cinched it around her waist. It was a
little late in her life to have such teenage thoughts over a man. And he was - after
all - just a man. A man seven years her junior. She knew that many woman had
physical relationships with younger men and relegated them to that compartment
of their lives while functioning separately in their business lives. Perhaps that
would be the answer to her problems - or it should have been. A strong
friendship, a satisfactory physical relationship, with no ties. But somehow she
knew, this wouldnt work in Angels book. And, so she had to admit, not in hers
either.
After a final glance in her mirror, Buffy nodded. At least she looked
presentable. Today of all days her mother had decided to invite herself for
dinner, no doubt trying to talk some reason into her again, no doubt trying to
discuss Riley. But maybe it was just as well. Riley was a safe topic, something
that might get her thoughts off Angel - if that was even possible.
When the doorbell rang, she took a last glance into the mirror, then left her
bedroom, closing the door behind her. With a practiced daughter smile on her
face, she opened the door, only to have the smile freezing on her lips, seeing the
unexpected visitor standing there and grinning from ear to ear, holding a bucket
of flowers.
Hey, beautiful. He took a step back, his blue eyes wandering up and down her
body, taking in her clothes, the shoes, her stylish makeup. And what a sight you
are. He made a slight bow, held the flowers out for her. Seems Ive chosen the
right time to show up.
Maybe if she had expected him, Buffy might have accepted the present with a
smile, but somehow she just couldnt find it in her to act casual, or even pleased
to see him. Instead, she took a deep breath not to kill him on the spot, but her
voice was still like a bucket of cold water, when she said, What the Hell are you
doing here, Spike?
*****
What the Hell are you doing here?
Lindsey MacDonald stifled a grin, then pretending to ignore Faiths outraged
expression, he sauntered into her dorm room, letting his eyes sweep over the
furniture, the pictures, taking in the whole atmosphere of the room. Its nice to
see you too, he replied without looking, aware that if looks could kill, hed be
cold in a flash.
You have some nerve to show up here without invitation, she hissed at him,
and when he turned he saw her standing, hand still on doorknob, she was almost
trembling with anger. If I call my father, youre out of a job in two minutes.
He raised his brows, Oh, is that so? Well, then go on, he nodded at the phone
on her desk, call him. When he saw her eyes widen, he shrugged, There are
funnier things than to represent a spoiled little girl whos pissed off because a
teacher has actually resisted her charms.
The door shut with a loud bang, You son of aTsk. Tsk. Tsk. Does a young lady use that kind of language? he taunted,
enjoying his view. She was dressed in tight denims, a green turtleneck, her hair
loose and falling freely, her eyes sparkling with anger. She was simply beautiful.
Lindsey felt his gut tighten. Hed been attracted to women before - he was
healthy man after all, but none of them had ever left the kind of impression Faith
had, even though shed been lying in his face.
Beautiful brown eyes narrowed, Who do you think you are, coming to my
room and accusing me ofLying? he asked, not trying to hide the grin now. Yeah, thats what Id call it.
Youve been lying to me, to your parents, to this old honorable alma mater. And
dont even try to deny it. So, what I really want to know is, why?
Her eyes narrowed another bit, becoming mere slits, but God, she was even
more beautiful this way. What a woman, Lindsey thought, feeling his blood rush
into his groin. She was pure fire, hot, sparkling, and he wondered if her passion
was going to burn in the same way. It made him even more curious to find out
why Faith Marshall was acting the way she did. He wasnt blind. Besides the fact
that shed been lying, he had also seen how shed looked at her father, and at her
mother for that matter. For all their concerned attitude, Faiths parents seemed to
be more concerned about their name or what a scandal might do to the family
business than what it had done to their daughter. And it seemed the young
woman knew that as well.
Why? Faith raised her brows, crossed her arms, How come you are interested?
Youre a lawyer, right? Isnt it enough for you to earn your money. My fathers
going to pay, dont worry.
Im not worrying, he replied easily. I might not be a partner in my firm yet, but
I know my bosses appreciate my work, and that wont change. No, thats not the
reason I came. I want to know why someone like you, young, beautiful,
intelligent, someone with a whole life ahead of her, is in need of such , he made
a disgusted gesture with his hand, nonsense.
Something flickered through her eyes, but it was gone too soon for him to
judge. Intelligent, huh? She laughed, a short, dismissive sound. You think that?
Didnt you know that I flunked psychology last year? And English lit? Im a
dummy, lawyer. Youre mistaken if you think Im something special.
He wasnt quite sure, why, but the way she said it, the way he saw pain come
and go in her eyes, made him act in a way he hadnt planned. He wasnt even
aware of the steps hed taken towards her, and when his head lowered to hers it
was already too late to change. He pressed his lips onto hers, for a short, lucid
moment wondering if he could claim temporary insanity for his actions, but then
he could feel nothing but her tempting lips, could hear nothing but the little
moan that escaped her. And when her arms wrapped themselves around his neck,
he wasnt so sure anymore if coming here had been one of his wisest decisions.
Well, Hell. Spikes grin didnt slip, although he saw that Buffy was anything but
happy about seeing him show up unexpectedly at her doorstep. Wont you invite
me in?
Buffy frowned, but then sighed inwardly. She could hardly send him away like
some dog, could she? Well, maybe she could, but standing there, with this puppy
dog look in his eyes, holding out the flowers for her, she didnt have the heart for
it. And he reminded her of all the high school fantasies shed ever had, the
fantasies Spike had been a big part of. Alright, come in, she invited, stepping
back. What are you doing in town?
Would you believe me if I told you I wanted to see you?
She almost laughed out loud at the tone of his voice. He sounded like a little
boy. Well, excuse me if I get a little suspicious. I mean we dont see each other
for over fifteen years. And then all of a sudden Im someone in your book? Its a
little hard to believe. She finally took the flowers from him, then marched into
the kitchen, to search for a vase.
He stopped in the doorway, leaned one shoulder against the frame, Nice
apartment. So why do you think you cant be the only reason I came? You are a
beautiful woman, very attractive, tempting. His voice dropped to an intimate
whisper, but while it might have sent shivers down her spine eighteen years ago,
she now felt absolutely nothing. Nil, zero, zilch. All she could think was that his
voice wasnt as soft and velvety as another one that kept whispering to her in her
dreams, that his eyes were a boring blue, instead of a warm, deep brown. God,
she was pathetic!
Stuffing the flowers into the vase with more power than necessary, she added
some water, then placed it on the table. Thanks, she said, remembering that she
hadnt said it before.
Youre welcome. He was still leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed
now, he was watching her. Okay, he said finally, I came because I met Dru. I uh
well, we needed to discuss some business.
I see, Buffy nodded, irritated at her own indifference at his reply. Why couldnt
she at least be disappointed that she hadnt been the reason for his coming into
town? Why couldnt she feel a tiny little bit of jealousy? But there was nothing.
Plain nothing. She didnt care why Spike had come into town. Or if he had met
Dru. Or what he did at all. All her mind could think was that he fell short
compared to another man, one she couldnt stop thinking about. Would she have
fantasised about Spike if Angel had been there during her high school years? She
wondered. But then, Angel would have been nothing more than a kid, nine or ten
years old, hardly swooning material for a girl.
Instantly sobered by that thought, she looked at her unexpected guest, So you
came to see Dru, and you thought it was a good idea to drop by while you were
in town anyway?
Something like that, he admitted, his grin a bit lopsided now. I thought we had
a good time that night, and so well, I thought it couldnt hurt to try. What do you
think about a fancy dinner in a restaurant of your choice? He gestured at her
clothes, Youre all dressed up anyway.
As a matter of fact, Im dressed up because Im having dinner with my mother.
With your mother? he raised a brow at that. Does sound like the evening of
dreams.
She couldnt help the laugh that escaped her mouth. She isnt that bad, she
grinned at Spike who made a pained grimace.
I remember, he said after a moment, Your parents were the keeping kind. There
was this step-father of yours, the guy was actually pretty cool.
Yeah, he was, she replied softly, feeling the familiar stab of pain. God, she
missed Giles, right now maybe more than ever. Hed always been so
understanding, always had an open ear for her problems. She wished she could
ask him what to do. He died some years ago.
Im sorry, Spike said, and the compassion in his voice was genuine. Your
mother never remarried? I remember she was an attractive woman.
No, she didnt, Buffy shook her head, Her relationship with Giles was very
special. After my father and she split up well, she was pretty hurt and Giles was
the best that ever happened to her. And to me for that matter.
And your father?
She shrugged, not particular about touching that sour spot in her life. He calls
sporadically. But most of the time I dont know what he does, or with whom.
Sounds a lot like my old man. Spike sighed, There are parents out there who
shouldnt have any kids. When Dru and I first married I wanted a baby. She was
against it. Looking back it was probably for the best. A kid would be torn apart
between us now. Plus all the yelling. He sighed again, more deeply this time, and
Buffy wondered if his previous meeting with his ex-wife had been all that
pleasant.
Is she , she paused, not certain she even wanted to know, but asked anyway, Is
there a new man in her life? It was strange though, talking with Spike as if theyd
been closest friends. Shed once had a crush on him, but after high school shed
soon forgotten all about him.
No, he shook his head, ran a hand through his hair. Shes all hung up on her
career these days. Not that it seems to make her happy, but, he shrugged, If she
wants it that way.
Yeah, Buffy nodded, reminded of another woman whod once believed that a
successful career was the most important thing in her life. That a man, a lover,
was something you could have on the side, that didnt intrude your feelings all
the time. But that was before a guy in a leather jacket, and a half-smile that
should be forbidden had entered her life and turned it upside down.
He was about to say something when the doorbell rang again. She shot him a
quick apologetic smile then walked for the door, expecting her mother, her
welcoming smile in place for the second time that night. But again it froze on her
face. It wasnt her mother leaning against the doorframe, a scowl on the forehead.
And before she had time to say a word, Angel pushed past her, entering her
apartment without waiting for an invitation.
I know, he growled, when he turned to face her, you try your best to ignore me.
At first I thought it was for the best to give you space, but you know what? He
didnt wait for her to answer, didnt give her time to come to terms with his
unsettling presence, but went right on, Im done giving you space. Youre
behaving like a scared little girl, running away all the time, and its time you
stopped.
Part 16
Joyce Summers-Giles brought her car to a stop in front of her daughter's
apartment building. Shutting off the ignition she let out a weary sigh, resting
both hands on the steering wheel, while the radio still blared some old song of
the Beatles. God, how her husband had loved that music. When he was painting
it had been a constant background noise, connected to him like her own daughter
who had adored her step-father in a way that was painfully missing in her
relationship with her real father.
Joyce sighed again, patting her hair with one hand, missing her late husband
tonight more than ever. He'd had a way with Buffy, they had shared something
special. Her stubborn daughter had always listened to Rupert, or had at least
considered his point of view, while all her mother said seemed to make Buffy do
the exact opposite. God, she could do with Rupert's calming influence tonight,
although - she let out a little laughter - this probably wouldn't happen in the first
place.
If Rupert was still alive, he would look at Joyce with his deep, knowing eyes,
telling her without words that Buffy's life was exactly that, Buffy's life and that
Joyce didn't have a say in it. That her daughter was old enough to make her own
decisions, and that she, Joyce, should wait until Buffy came and asked for
advice. Unfortunately Joyce simply wasn't made for standing by and waiting, she
usually gave her opinion, wanted or not, and that - more often than not - led to
heated arguments with the one person she loved most on the earth.
Not that Rupert and Buffy hadn't fought frequently, because they had. Nobody
could be close to her daughter and not fight with her. Buffy could be the most
mule-headed creature on this planet, but somehow their fights had been different
to the ones that seemed the only way of communication between mother and
daughter lately. She wasn't sure why, but these days whatever she said, Buffy
was takingit the wrong way, while with Rupert, her daughter had at least realized
he was always trying to do what was best for her.
Frowning at that, Joyce firmly forced those thoughts down, not willing to deal
with them any longer. Her daughter was waiting for her, and the longer she had
to wait, the stronger her defenses would be. And besides, Rupert didn't always
know best. This was her daughter after all. Buffy was about to make the biggest
mistake of her life, and Joyce wasn't going to stand by and let it happen. Buffy
might hate her for her intervention, but maybe one day, when her daughter was a
mother herself - although the chances of that ever happening were getting less by
the day - she would understand why Joyce had to act the way she did.
With new determination spreading through her body, Joyce climbed out of the
car, and after pressing the button on her key and hearing the car lock, she
marched towards the house, hoping that her daughter would have a more open
mind tonight than usual. Buffy could be so stubborn sometimes. Like now. Joyce
would never understand what had brought on her daughter's latest behavior.
Buffy had seemed happy and content in her relationship with Riley. And they
were made for each other, both successful in their jobs, both good looking, both
around the same age, with similar expectations for their lives and future. A
match made in heaven.
And all of a sudden Buffy didn't seem to think so anymore.
So far all of Joyce's attempts to find out what had changed her daughter's mind
had been in vain. Buffy didn't want to talk about it. It was her life, her decision.
Period. They had even argued about it. Joyce felt almost ashamed for the way
she'd yelled, but nothing had changed. Buffy insisted Riley wasn't for her, that a
future with him was out of the question.
Joyce's first thought had been a fight between lovers, something that happened
every day, but a phone call to Riley had proven her wrong. Buffy's ex-boyfriend
insisted that he was still at a loss to understand what had caused their break-up.
So the next logical reason was another man. But Buffy had insisted there was
none, and Joyce had been tempted to believe her. It wasn't like Buffy to jump
from one man to the next, but then Joyce wasn't born just yesterday, and she had
lived long enough to know that anything was possible.
And that had been her reason for a dinner with her daughter tonight. She
wanted to find out what was going on, wanted to understand why her daughter
had thrown a perfectly fine relationship away, and didn't show the slightest sign
she would be willing to reconsider.
Well, she would find out tonight, she thought, lengthening her strides, pushing
the door open with straightened shoulders and raised chin. She would find out,
and then convince her daughter that she was a fool to let Riley go.
Her daughter might be stubborn sometimes. But Buffy wasn't a fool. Not by a
long shot.
*****
Buffy stared at the man in front of her, trying her best to understand what was
happening. She'd been planning a not so pleasant evening with her mother, and
all of a sudden this was turning into some wacky soap opera. And Angel hadn't
even noticed Spike so far. "What ", she finally managed, "What are you doing
here?"
"Oh, wasn't it clear enough for you?" Angel stared right back, his posture
aggressive and challenging at the same time. He knew he was acting irrational,
but he was done standing back and waiting for her to accept that they were right
for each other. He still wasn't quite sure what had brought this on, but now that
he had decided to confront her, he wasn't about to back down again, even though
he saw the silent plead in her eyes, the way they had widened in shock. "I said
I'm through with waiting for you to come to terms with our relationship. I'm
through giving you space."
Her initial surprise instantly giving way to anger, Buffy went very still.
"What," she raised one brow, "are you talking about? A relationship? What kind
of relationship?"
*Liar, liar*, a little voice inside her head was whispering. *You slept with him.
You care for him. What would you call it? *
Buffy mercilessly ignored it, and crossed her hands in front of her chest,
suddenly remembering her other guest, slightly ashamed that she was using
Spike as a shield against the confusing emotions Angel was rousing inside of
her. "By the way, you remember Spike, don't you?" She looked past Angel,
directly at the bleached blond who was standing in the kitchen doorway.
She saw something flicker in the depth of Angel's dark orbs, before his whole
body tensed and he slowly turned, "Spike?"
Angel felt something quiver deep inside of him, something he didn't want to
accept, something dark, and ugly, and he instantly recognized it as jealousy. Not
the light kind, the angry kind he'd experienced the night of the high school
reunion. No. this time it was deeper, growling in his gut, twisting it, making it
churn. And it was accompanied by anger, anger so deep and furious, he wasn't
sure he was going to keep himself together. So she was playing dirty, was she?
he thought.
When he finally faced the other man, leaning casually in the doorway, he knew
his anger was irrational and certainly turned towards the wrong person. Spike
stood, watching him a little warily, not quite certain himself what was going on,
what game was about to be played.
Angel straightened his shoulders, narrowed his eyes, "Hello, Spike," he greeted
the other man.
Buffy almost shivered at the ice in his voice, not quite sure if her last move had
been her best. What if she'd judged Angel wrong, what if he went berserk and
but no, Angel wasnt the type to do such a thing. Not that she really knew him
well, but somehow she couldnt imagine him trashing an apartment or beating up
another person. It just didnt fit.
"Liam." Spike inclined his head, a smile now playing around his lips. "Nice to
meet you again," he said, but his voice was betraying his lightness, and again she
was ashamed for the way she was playing those men, and all because of her own
uncertainty. But as much as she hated it, she wasn't ready to change anything,
either. She was feeling unsettled, her emotions so close to the surface, and all
because of this man, this boy, really. This couldn't be real, this couldn't be
happening, not to her, not to the most rational person she knew. Not to Buffy,
who had planned her whole life. She couldn't accept it, and she wouldn't.
"I wish I could say that, too," Angel replied, and Buffy could see the rigid
control he was trying to keep. "I see," he went on, and she realized he was
looking at her again, "You lost no time finding a substitute. I wonder what your
boyfriend will say to this?"
Boyfriend? A little confused, Buffy frowned at him, then suddenly
remembered that he didn't even know about Riley and her splitting up, which,
given the circumstances, she wasn't inclined to change. "Riley? she raised her
chin. "We don't have that kind of relationship. We're both very open, modern
people."
Completely forgetting Spike's presence, Angel felt his body stiffen, not willing
to believe what she was hinting at. "You mean ", he had to take a breath. His
determination was slowly fading in the face of her obvious indifference. Had he
been so wrong about her? Could he have misjudged her? But no, he thought,
thinking back at the way she'd cried out his name, the way she'd touched him,
the way her eyes had clouded over. She couldn't have been faking that. And he
simply refused to believe that Buffy was the kind of woman who could
experience something that profound and just shake it off the next day. "You're
lying," he said slowly, but firmly. "It's still the little scared girl talking here. The
one who doesn't take risks, the one who admires her step-father for living out his
fantasies, but is too scared to live up to them herself.
He let his eyes wander and rest on the picture painted by Rupert Giles visible
through the partially opened living-room door. It was a disturbing painting,
showing a rainy day at the coast, a storm bending the trees, clouds hanging deep
and heavy. The colors were dark, black, brown, gray, blue, a cold, dark, green the scenery stormy and threatening. At least at first glance. But more closely
looked at, there was such peace coming from it, such clarity, as if the artist was
allowing you a glimpse into his soul. A man shaken by the experiences life dealt
you, but who had finally found his home, his destination.
Angel looked back at Buffy, trying to imagine her mother. Did Mrs. Summers
have the same eyes? Did she radiate the same energy, the same strength, paired
with such intense vulnerability? The same vulnerability that Buffy was trying to
hide by acting out, by seeming cool and tough? If yes, Angel couldn't blame
him. How could a man meet such a woman, and not take a second look, and
maybe a third? And if he did, how could he not get lost in her, how could he not
give her his soul? Completely and forever.
The way it had happened to him.
"Hey, maybe I should leave now."
They'd both forgotten that Spike was still there, Angel realized when he saw
Buffy's eyes widen in surprise, The air between them was too intense, to
cracking to even notice any other presence. And it gave him hope.
"No, there is no reason to leave." Buffy tried to keep her voice cool and
controlled, tried to keep herself together, although she was sure her knees were
trembling underneath her dress. Thank god she had chosen one in full length,
hiding the evidence of her turmoil. She had to gain control again, she thought
desperately, feeling herself falling, feeling herself slipping. She wasn't going to
let this man take control of her life, her actions. So she straightened her
shoulders, her eyes blank, "He is the one intruding here," she said loud and clear,
not able to look into Angel's eyes, afraid of the pain she might see there at her
words, "I didn't invite him."
If she had slapped him, she couldn't have hurt him the way her words had.
Angel felt himself reeling back as if from a blow, then breathing deeply,
managed to instantly pull himself together. Well, what had he expected, anyway?
She had made it perfectly clear before that for her a relationship between them
could never work. That she wasn't going to give in, wasn't going to see what
beauty they could create together.
With great difficulty he managed to turn his head to look at her, and in that
very moment, in that fraction of a second, he suddenly understood. Understood
as clearly as if she'd had laid it out in front of him in bold letters. Something had
happened to her. Someone - a man - had hurt her. Had hurt in a way she wasn't
able to forget, in a way that had scarred her so deeply, he thought he could reach
out and feel the pain. And he was also sure, that if she'd let him, he would touch
the scars, would soothe them, would make them heal with love, a love she
seemed to determined to push away.
A rage he'd never felt before suddenly filled him, threatened to consume him,
against the man who had done this to her. Some man had turned this beautiful,
breathtaking woman into a frightened little girl who didn't seem to trust anyone,
least of all herself, and who had decided to refuse love, because it was safer.
Because that way, she wasn't going to get hurt again. If the man had been around
-right now - Angel was sure he'd spent the rest of his days in a high-security
prison for murder one. He had always hated violence, had tried to fight against
it, still carrying the scars of his early childhood, but in this split of a second it
didn't matter. All he wanted was to erase this guy in a futile attempt to carry out
justice, but knowing at the same time that it wouldn't change anything for Buffy.
The only thing able to help her was love. Love he was willing to give. Love she
was so determined to reject.
"No, you didn't invite me," he said finally, feeling a sudden calm, although her
eyes had shut down, not showing any of the pain and torture he'd only gotten a
glimpse of before, "but I'm still staying. We're going to talk, and if you don't
want to talk, you're at least going to listen."
"I so need to go now," Spike pushed himself off of the doorway, holding up his
hands as he passed the couple on his way to the exit door. "No need to see me
out. I know the way." He reached for the door-handle, then stopped in the
process, his eyes finding Angel's face. "There's nothing between us, man. We're
nothing but - acquaintances. I was feeling low tonight, had a meeting with my
ex. Thought I could use some cheering up. So don't give her a hard time."
"This has nothing to do with you," Angel replied, his eyes not wavering from
Buffy's gaze, starting to like the other man without wanting to. "But thanks,
nevertheless."
"I'd say have a nice evening, but ...", Spike trailed off, chuckling slightly to
himself. "See you." He didn't expect an answer and didn't get one. God, he
thought, shaking his head, why did love have to be so complicated all the time?
Why couldn't people just fall in love, be happy and stay that way? Instantly his
thoughts traveled to a certain raven-haired woman, remembering the girl she'd
once been, the girl he'd been in love with so deeply, he couldn't think straight.
When had this stopped? When had they lost what had seemed so precious, so
right? God, he was maudlin tonight. Maybe he should just find a bottle of old
Scotch and drown himself.
With a last chuckle he opened the door - and froze. Instead of an empty
hallway he was greeted by the face of a woman so much alike another, and a pair
of eyes that were looking at him curiously, before she spoke, "So you are the
reason my daughter dumped her boyfriend. I should have known. You've always
been bad news Spike."
Mrs. Summers, Spike inclined his head in a matter of greeting, then gave the
older woman his best smile, the one he had practiced as a boy to charm Drus
parents all those years ago. It had worked then, and he could only hope it would
work now. How nice to meet you. Believe me when I tell you, I have nothing to
do with the troubles between your daughter and her boyfriend. And Ill be gone
anyway - I was just on my way out. And then, without contemplating his next
move, he wriggled past her, and with a last glance at Buffy he left, although a
part of him wanted to stay and watch the drama unfold.
*
So, Joyce closed the door behind the blond man, This was an interesting- Her
words died on her lips when she turned and saw her daughter standing in the
middle of the hallway facing a strange dark-haired man, Joyce had never seen
before. But there was something in the way they looked at each other, his dark
orbs intense and serious, Buffys defensive, with a touch of anger, and - to Joyces
utter surprise - something close to fear. But it wasnt fear of this man, it was
something different, something that made Joyce tremble down to the core.
Neither of them looked up, didnt give a sign they had acknowledged her
presence, just continued staring at each other, until the man spoke.
You dumped your boyfriend? His voice was low, and a little bit dangerous.
Interesting piece of news you so comfortably avoided to share with me.
Buffys chin jutted out in defiance, I cant see why this is any of your business. I
cant see where this concerns you.
Joyce felt her gut clench almost painfully at the tension in the air, at the strange
waves she was getting from her daughter. Hi, she said, Im Joyce Summers,
Buffys mother.
She could have well kept the words to herself, because neither the man nor her
daughter were reacting.
It concerns me all right, he said, not touching her, just continuing to look at her
with those serious eyes, Joyce found herself drawn to. It concerns me because I
care for you, because -, she saw him pause, as if considering his next words, then
he pushed ahead, I love you.
No. Buffys denial came quickly, her voice firm.
Dont tell me what I feel, he retorted, I know you dont want to hear this, dont
want to concern yourself with this, but its true nevertheless. I love you.
No, she said again, shaking her head emphatically. You believe you love me,
but its different. I know it is.
No, it isnt, he shot back, and Joyce saw he was clenching his fists. Could it be
he was a violent person, she wondered. He was a tall man, strong, well-muscled.
What would she do if- But no, she told herself instantly. Nobody who could look
at her daughter like this, would hurt her. How could her daughter insist of him
lying when his love for her was written clearly in his eyes.
Love?
Suddenly feeling shell-shocked, Joyce found herself rooted in place, breathing
suddenly difficult.
Love?
This man had claimed loving her daughter, and she didnt even know his name,
hadnt seen him ever before.
Buffy, he said, I love you. Its true. Stop denying whats right in front of your
eyes.
In front of my eyes? she echoed, shaking her head again, This this is madness.
Youre deluding yourself in some kind of fantasy, andIm not deluding myself, he replied, his voice softening, but you are. Buffy,
why are you so determined to believe that Im not in love with you? And more
importantly, why are you trying to tell yourself you arent? Why are you trying to
push me away? What are you afraid of?
Joyce saw her daughter step back, then stop, pressing a hand to her mouth for a
moment, pulling it away the next, In love with you? she asked, her voice
unnaturally high. Why cant you just accept that not all women are falling down
at your feet. That there is a thirty-four year old woman who isnt head over heels
for your twenty-six year old body?
Twenty-six? The guy was only twenty-six? Joyce continued to stare at the pair.
Why are you always bringing up my age? he asked, his voice even softer than
before, and Joyce found herself hanging at each of his words. There was
something about him, something that moved her deeply. Maybe it was in the
way he looked at her daughter, maybe it was the way he talked to her, as if he
knew her inside out. You are using our age difference like a shield. But thats
nonsense. Its seven years, and do you know how many couples are seven years
apart? So stop bringing this up all the time. Why dont you stop hiding yourself
behind this, and start telling me the real reason youre shying away from your
feelings.
My feelings? she echoed, You dont know anything about my feelings.
Thats where youre wrong, he said instantly, reaching out as if to touch her,
then pulling his hand back. Maybe it was for the best, Joyce thought. Her
daughter was so rigid, the merest touch might break her. Youre scared, and dont
try to deny it. Youre afraid Im going to hurt you, and youre scared to let yourself
trust me, because someone has betrayed your trust before, someone has hurt you
deeply.
No, Buffy said again, but now her voice was a mere whisper, tears welling up
in her eyes. Please dont do this, she pleaded brokenly, I I cant do this.
Finally he held out his hand, palm up, Wont you trust me? Whoever it was,
cant you see Im not him?
Buffy took another step back, her eyes wide and like those of a scared animal
pushed into a corner with no way out. I cant, she whispered, Dont you
understand, I cant. This th-this is , she stopped, shook her head, biting her lower
lip, Please, go.
No, he said softly, but firmly. Im not going. Im not going to watch you doing
this to yourself. Im not going to let you draw back behind your safe wall, away
from love and happiness.
I am happy, she almost cried out, defensively crossing her arms in front of her
chest. Why cant you accept that and just leave? Joyce heard a stifled sob on the
last word, and almost reached out to touch her daughter, but something held her
back, told her she couldnt let her protective mother-instincts run free.
You are happy? he echoed her question gently. Then why dont you look that
way, Buffy? To me you look anything but. Again he held out his hand for her. I
love you, Buffy, and I want you to trust me. I cant promise never to hurt you, but
I will never do it deliberately. I know this guy - whoever it was - hurt you. But
do you want him to win? Youre cutting yourself off from happiness, always
afraid, always taking a step back, and all because of him? Do you really want
that?
Joyce was still standing in the spot shed been standing all the time, not able to
move, not able to say anything, almost feeling like an intruder into something
intensely private, even though she was Buffys mother.
She saw her daughter hesitate, saw her pressing her arms close to her chest,
saw her close her eyes, then slowly shake her head, and she wanted to push her
into the arms of the man was holding them open for her, but knew she couldnt do
it, although she felt her heart breaking at the scene before her. Not just for her
daughters pain, even though that alone was enough to cause it, but also for
herself, for what she has missed in her daughters life that seeing Buffy like this
was coming to her as some kind of a shock. What had happened in her daughters
life that she was behaving that way? Couldnt she see the young man was
serious? That his eyes were shining with the kind of love every woman dreamt
of. What had happened to the child shed once carried in her womb that made her
afraid and shy of affection?
Joyce wanted to scream with the pain she felt at the mere thought. They had
once been so close and then, one summer while Buffy had still been at college
everything had changed. Buffy had refused to come home one summer, and
Rupert had gone to see her, then returned without her, serious and somehow
withdrawn, not offering any explanations for their daughters absence, had
dismissed Joyce whenever shed brought up the subject.
Guessing deep inside that something terrible had happened, she hadnt - like a
good mother would have done - tried to find out what exactly had been going on,
had instead chosen the easier path. Her daughter was alive, wasnt she? And
Buffy had even talked to her on the phone where it was so much easier to
pretend her cheerfulness wasnt as forces as it sounded.
God, what kind of a mother did that make her? Confronted with the question
she wanted to do what she always did, wanted to turn and run, to take cover, but
how could she in the face of Buffys pain and the love and determination of a
young man she barely knew but who seemed to know so much more about the
daughter she loved with all her heart.
She tentatively reached out, touching her daughters shiny, blond hair, felt her
heart breaking a little bit more when Buffy flinched.
But she clenched her teeth against the pain that was almost physical, she would
not run away this time, would face the fact that she had let her daughter pull
away from her, that she had done nothing to prevent it, that she now barely knew
how to comfort this young woman who seemed to be torn apart in front of her
eyes.
She was facing the worst a mother had to, failing her daughter, by looking
away, by trying to pretend things were fine.
She looked up at the man whose name she still didnt know, saw the pain in his
eyes at her daughters rejection and with shame had to admit that she didnt have
the slightest idea how to help them. Riley was forgotten, all the things she had
intended to say, all the rational things, so well thought out. Who wanted to hear
them anyway now? Her daughter was hurting, and it was as if she, Joyce, was
living through the whole pain with her.
Joyce saw Angel take a slow, deep breath, saw his hand fall away in surrender,
his shoulders slumped. Then without a word, and one last look at Buffy, he
walked towards the door, intending to leave, intending to do what Buffy had
wanted from him, giving her the space she obviously needed, although they all
knew it was a lie, a lie spoken to protect, a lie born from old pain that still
seemed fresh on a tortured soul.
Wanting to do something, but not knowing why, Joyce looked frantically back
and forth between her daughter and the dark-haired man with the serious eyes,
watching him step closer to the door and away from Buffy, away from the
woman he so obviously loved, but who wouldnt let him close to prove it.
Joyce knew it was probably the wrong thing to do, but she was about to make
him stop when Buffy suddenly drew a shuddering breath, her whole body
trembling with the effort, before she whispered brokenly, Dont go. Angel.
Please, dont go.
Go to Part 17
Blissful Encounter
Part 17
When consciousness returned, Faith blinked, not quite sure where she was or
why. The last hours were muddled in her mind, like a constant blur, with no way
to find her way through it.
She groaned, realizing without looking that she was lying on the floor with the
usually fluffy material of the expensive carpet her mother had given her the day
she'd gone to college now scratching the sensitive skin of her naked back.
Naked
Naked!
Instantly her eyes popped open, all blurriness forgotten, and she found herself
staring into a pair of stormy blue eyes, watching her intently and - she noticed
with more than a little annoyance - with amusement. In a flash all the images
came back to her. Kissing Lindsey. Groping Lindsey. Tearing at Lindsey's
clothes. Devouring.
She groaned again, letting herself fall back on the carpet, for once not caring
that it was scratchy and uncomfortable, and that she was still nude, her body
open to his disturbing gaze. She'd noticed in his office earlier that he had a way
of looking at people that made you feel naked even if you were properly dressed.
So - she mused - it didn't really matter if she wore clothes or not, and besides,
he'd already seen, hell, he had tasted, every part of her body, so it was all the
same diff.
"Why didn't you just go?" She asked without looking at him, keeping her eyes
closed against his intense gaze, against the knowledge she knew she would find
in his eyes.
"Honey," he drawled, his southern accent more pronounced, "that wouldn't
have been very gentlemanly of me, would it?"
"Fuck you," she hissed, finally looking at him again, anger sparkling in her
dark orbs.
He sighed almost dramatically, and then grinned, "You might be the daughter
of one of the richest men around, but you've got the language of an alley cat.
Does daddy know about it?"
Not quite able to follow him, she narrowed her eyes, reigning in the annoyance
and anger she felt at his behavior. Never before had a man treated her that way,
and it was more than confusing. He didn't seem to have respect for her father's
name. In that way he was a lot like her English-lit professor, but unlike
Wyndham-Price, Lindsey was also sure of himself, with a cocky attitude she
wanted to wipe from his face, but knew she'd never achieve the goal. "What?"
she asked, keeping her voice low and infused with a warning.
"That you're sleeping around. That you're far away from the perfect daughter
he sees in you."
Strange, she thought, feeling her heart turn inside her chest, how much such a
remark could hurt, even if it came from a stranger, a man she barely knew, even
though she'd heard it before. But somehow, maybe because she was still a
foolish little girl inside, still not quite finished believing in dreams, a part of her
had hoped that his blue eyes, so serious sometimes, so cocky at others, would be
able to see more in her, would be able to look behind the mask she was always
wearing. And maybe because he didn't, was why it hurt so much. Because she
had - once again - misjudged a man.
She was a fool, she thought, scrambling to her feet and searching for her
clothes. She would never learn that men were all the same, that none of them
ever cared. "My father wouldn't listen to you," she said bleakly, "And besides, he
would hardly care."
"You think?" he asked, still lying on the floor, completely unconcerned about
his own nudity.
"Yes," she nodded, yanking her shirt over her head, "I've had over twenty years
to prove it. And now I would very much like it if you got your clothes on and
left. My roommate will be coming soon, and I don't want her to find you here."
"So I'm dismissed?" he replied, reaching for his own clothes. "The stallion did
his duty and now he can go?"
Anger came quickly, and so hot, she thought she could feel it burn on her
tongue, burn through her heart. But it was better than the pain, so in a way she
welcomed it. "Hey," she cried, "You were the one that started this. You've got no
right to behave that way. And you said I was sleeping around. So she paused,
blinking the tears away that were about to break through the anger, about to
betray her bravado, "I just assumed that's what you wanted too."
"That's where you are wrong," he said slowly, but firmly while pulling on his
shirt, slinging his tie around his neck. He smiled slightly when he saw her stiffen
at his words. Good. This was madness. He had fallen for her so hard and fast like
never before in his life. She was only twenty-three years old, she was his client
for goodness' sake, and he couldn't keep his hand off her. But he also knew that
with her history, with her own cocky attitude, that certainly matched his, it
probably wasnt wise to let her know that he was a goner already. So he simply
looked at her, and said, "This, dear Faith, is far from over."
Her sharp intake of breath told him that he'd caught her by surprise.
*****
Buffy's words stopped Angel dead in his tracks, made him stop and turn
around, to find himself drowning in the tortured expression in her once so
sparkling hazel eyes.
"P-please don't go," she repeated, tears streaming down her cheeks, her fingers
clenching her arms like claws so tightly, Angel almost winced at the sight. A part
of his mind had acknowledged the presence of Buffy's mother, had heard her talk
to Spike. But his whole being was so focused on Buffy, on the pain in her gaze,
the battle she was fighting to reach out to him, to give him her trust, he couldnt
say anything to her mother yet. It humbled him in a way he had only experienced
once before in his life, and he knew from experience that hehad to be very
careful now not to destroy the fragile bond she had allowed to form between
them tonight.
"I'm staying," he said slowly, walking back to her, glancing quickly at her
mother who seemed to be watching everything while holding her breath at the
same time. He knew it would be the polite thing to say hello, to talk to her. He
was a strange man in her daughter's apartment after all, but right now he couldn't
worry about courtesy or manners. The only thing that mattered was Buffy, and
the fact that he'd finally broken through her defenses.
Again, he held his hand out to her and this time - after a short hesitation - she
put her palm into his, letting him lead her towards the living room. He sat her
down in a chair, with him kneeling in front of her, still holding her hand while
his thumb stroked it's back, slowly, soothingly. "Will you tell me?" he asked
finally when she had calmed enough, when the initial trembling had eased - at
least a little.
From the corner of his eye he saw her mother hovering in the doorway,
uncertain what to do, uncertain what to say. So she simply stood there, her eyes
wide and sad, the eyes of a mother who realized she'd lost contact with the
essence that was her daughter. He wanted to reach out to her, too, wanted to
draw her in, but wasn't sure he'd be strong enough for both of them tonight. Yet,
he felt Mrs. Summers needed something to do, needed to be part of this
somehow, and so without taking his eyes from Buffy, he said, "Maybe you could
make some tea?"
After a startled moment, she hurried to say, "Yes, yes. Of course. I'll make it
right now." She was gone, but Angel had heard the relief in her voice not to be
left out.
Buffy hadn't even noticed her mother's presence he realized. She was staring
ahead blindly, her teeth biting her lower lip so hard it bled.
"It's okay," he said softly, stroking her hand again, "You don't have to if you
aren't ready. There's time later."
She started to nod, then shook her head in the negative, "No, I I want to," she
whispered, "but I I don't know h-how to begin."
"How about the beginning?" he replied in an attempt to lighten the mood, but
knowing it was in vain. She was far beyond that, was far beyond lightness or
jokes.
She nodded again, rubbing a trembling hand over her forehead, then letting it
fall into her lap to the other that was still firmly in Angel's. It wasn't much, he
thought, but maybe that little touch was giving her the strength she needed. He
liked to think it was.
"I-I was in college," she began, keeping her eyes directed on her hands, "A - a
freshman, and I, there was this guy. H-he was good looking and charming and and I'd been, well, the other girls were teasing me," she laughed, but it bore no
humor. "B-because I was still a virgin. And then h-he came, and he was great
funny, attentive." She paused, her mouth curving into a self-loathing smile, "And
I was so stupid."
She looked up then, and the pain in her eyes almost took his breath away. "I
suppose," she smiled a little sad smile, "it's this way with guys. I mean, Riley
couldn't remember his first time either. Or rather, the name of the girl. He
remembers the first time, but only that he was clumsy and nervous. He couldn't
tell me how she felt when I asked him."
And so she'd assumed all men were like this, Angel thought sadly, feeling the
coolness of her hand, the pulse at her wrist fluttering underneath his forefinger.
"Not all men are like that, honey," he told her softly, glad she was looking at
him. "The first woman I slept with, her name was Darla. She was older than me,
and experienced. She was seeking me out - at least that's what I think today. I
uhm," he had to grin at the memory that seemed now ages away, "I was sixteen,
still in high school, and she was the aerobics trainer who came to our school one
afternoon a week. She trained the girls. She never told me her real age, but my
guess was she was around thirty. We met for about four weeks, then it was over
and I never saw her again."
"Did you " she started, then frowned and shook her head.
"Did I love her?" he asked, sensing her unspoken question. When she nodded,
he told her honestly, "I thought I did - then. Today," he smiled, knowing that
what her felt for Darla, who he'd once admired as a boy, couldn't hold a candle to
what he felt today. To the depth and connection he felt for the woman in front of
him. "Today I know it was just a teenage fantasy. But then it seemed real and
true." He waited a heartbeat before he asked, "And you slept with that guy?"
She nodded, "Yeah. And I thought, I thought I was in heaven. He seemed to
have experience, and even judging it from today's view, he wasn't a bad lover for
a twenty one year old boy, but while I thought it was special and beautiful, I was
nothing but a challenge for him. A virgin to deflower - that's what they said
behind my back later." She bit her lips again, and Angel felt her squeezing his
hand. "When when I confronted him, he laughed. He said that, that I was a
stupid girl believing this was anything serious."
"Oh, honey," he said softly, reaching out and cupping her cheek. "I'm so sorry."
But already when he said the words, he knew somehow that wasn't all, that
therehad to be more. Being treated that way by your first lover was something
that unfortunately happened all the time, and although he loathed the idea of a
girl having such an experience, and especially if it was Buffy, he also knew that
they all managed to get over it sooner or later. It was a bad experience but it
wasn't enough of an explanation for Buffy's behavior, for the walls she had
surrounded herself with. "But that's not all, huh?"
Her head came up with a snap, and she looked at him for a moment with wide
eyes, as if startled by his insight. Then she sighed, and Angel liked to think that
she'd realized he was different, that he wasn't like the guy who'd used her or her
ex-boyfriend who couldn't remember the name of his first girl.
"No," she whispered, her gaze back at her lap, "I four weeks later I discovered
I was pregnant."
"Preg-" The word stuck in his throat, closing it up, making it hard for him to
breathe. She'd been pregnant. With the child of a guy who hadn't really wanted
her in the first place. "Oh, Buffy," his own voice was reduced to a whisper now.
"Oh, baby."
Her tears were falling again, "I, I was so ashamed. And I I wanted to tell him
even after. But when I came to his room, he wasnt... a sob tore from her throat,
"there was a girl with him - in bed."
"God, Buffy". Disturbed more than he'd thought possible, Angel drew a hand
through his hair, trying to get a grip on his own raging emotions. The rage he'd
felt earlier was threatening to come back. He wanted to find the man, wanted to
tear him apart, make him hurt physically as much as Buffy had suffered
emotionally. "I'm so sorry. So terribly sorry."
"Me too," she replied, frowning slightly. "I was upset and but on the other hand
there was this tiny person inside of me, this baby. And although I was afraid, and
sad, I still wanted it. I already loved it."
"Of course you did," he assured her. How could she not? Buffy wasn't the kind
of person to reject an innocent baby, a child that hadn't done anything to deserve
wrath or anger.
She went on as if he hadn't spoken, too caught up in her story now, the words
tumbling from her lips faster and faster as if she was getting rid of something
that had been long overdue, and it probably was, Angel thought, " I, I mean, I
didn't know how my parents would react. I hoped my father, my step-dad, would
be supportive, but my mom and still I loved it." There was such sadness in her
voice now that Angel already feared he knew what she was going to say, and a
part of him wanted her to stop, wanted her not to go on, not to say the words that
would shatter a dream, but also sensing that they needed to be said.
But when she did, and even though he expected them, he felt each one of them
like a mortal blow.
"I lost the baby a week later. It wasn't anything nothing went wrong. I didn't
fall, or anything. The doctor said these things happen all the time, that, that
miscarriage is a common thing during the first trimester, but I " she raised her
head, her eyes swimming in tears, so lost and sad, "I loved that baby, Angel. It
was a part of me, and it d-died. For a while I wanted to die, too. Then, when I
thought I couldn't take it anymore, I called my step-father and he came, and he
pulled me back, made me see the light again."
She said nothing for a moment, just looked at him, then finally, tentatively, she
reached out, stroked the skin on his cheek, rough from a day's growth of beard.
"You were a lot alike, you know," she said softly, a first real smile creeping up
her features. "I loved him very much."
Angel's heart was so full, he felt it would burst any moment, looking into the
eyes of this woman who was already in every cell, every fiber of his body, who
was already a part of his soul. She hadn't told him she loved him, maybe it was
too early for that, but maybe without even realizing it, she had given him a
compliment that was equally precious. She'd compared him to her stepfather, a
man Angel had never met, but who seemed important to her, and whom she'd
loved without reservation.
Blinking his own tears away, he looked deeply into her eyes, "I really would
like to hold you now," he said gruffly, emotions constricting his throat.
"I would very much like to be held," she replied, slipping her arms around his
neck, and letting him pull her down into his lap, almost crawling into him,
holding onto him with all her might.
Over her head, Angel sensed a movement at the door, and as he looked up he
saw Mrs. Summers standing there, tears falling down her cheeks as well. One
hand firmly pressed over her mouth, she was watching her daughter being held
in the arms of a man she hadn't known before tonight. With almost startling
insight Angel realized that she hadn't heard the story before, that she hadn't
known - until now - that her daughter had lost a child, and so much more, that
year in college. How must she feel, hearing all this now, realizing that Buffy
hadn't trusted her enough to tell her, had only opened up to the man who was
holding her in his arms now.
A part of Angel wanted to reassure her, wanted to give her comfort, but
another part resented her for letting this happen in the first place. Not the
experience, not the miscarriage. Joyce couldn't have done anything to prevent
that, but for leaving her daughter alone in all this, without her mother, who
obviously hadn't been there for her when Buffy had needed her desperately. That
didn't mean that mother and daughter didn't need to talk, but right now wasn't the
time for it. It would come - but later, when emotions were less raw, and
hopefully less painful.
So Angel dismissed Joyce from his thoughts for the time being, focusing back
on the woman in his arms, her hot tears falling onto his shirt, burning the skin
underneath with the despair they stood for. But maybe, and Angel hoped this
would be the case, they were healing tears, too. Maybe they could help to ease
the pain that had so long held her soul in its fist, had crippled her slowly, to a
point where she'd been too afraid to love, or let someone else love her.
Although listening to her sobs and tears was painful, Angel did listen - not
trying to soothe with words that meant nothing, just holding her, stroking her
back, showing her that he was there, that she could count on him, trust him. He
would show her that he was nothing like the man who'd taken her virginity as if
it meant nothing, and then had abandoned her. The man who'd never known that
he'd left her with a child, a child long dead and gone.
A part of him felt a perverse satisfaction at the thought. This man would never
know that he'd created something beautiful with her, something she'd loved
instantly. He would never know what could have been, and in Angel's eyes that
alone was punishment. He thought about Buffy being pregnant with his child,
the idea filling his heart with such joy he wanted to burst, and he thought about
not even knowing it. Yes, he thought again, this was punishment, albeit
unconsciously, like a precious gift you never received, a joy never given to you.
This man had hurt her, and in return had been denied of what Angel considered a
miracle. It wasn't enough, but it was something.
He heard Mrs. Summers in the kitchen clattering with cups, while Buffy was
slowly calming down in his arms. "I cried all over you," she said, her voice
muffled in his shirt. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," he told her, giving his voice all the softness he could muster. "I'm
glad I was here, glad you trusted me with this."
"You are, huh?" She looked up then, a slight smile playing around her lips, and
it warmed his heart.
"Yes," he smiled back, cupping her cheek. "I meant what I said before, Buffy. I
love you. And this it's part of loving someone. Being there for that person. For
good and bad."
Something between a sob and a laugh tore from her throat, "Bad, maybe. But
this certainly qualifies as worse. You want the worse moments, too?"
"Definitely," he replied without hesitation, looking deeply into her eyes.
She raised a hand, wiping the tears from her face, "I'm a mess tonight, Angel.
I'm, I don't even know what I am. I I think I'm not ready for this, yet."
Again he smiled, "That's okay. I'm not expecting anything. I know this was
hard for you - and I feel humbled that you told me."
"Okay," she said simply, running a hand through her hair, stifling a yawn.
Gently his thumb stroked the soft skin on her cheek, "You're tired. Emotional
revelations can be very draining." "You seem to know what you're talking
about."
He saw her looking at him with a hint of curiosity and a silent question, but he
couldn't answer her, because he was too drained himself. But also because he
had promised not to tell, had made a vow to his sister in a night a lot like this,
with Katie's body in his arms, sobbing out her very soul.
So he simply shrugged, "Life experience," he told her vaguely.
"Because you're so old," she joked, but her eyes were still sad, although he
noticed they weren't as desperate anymore as they had been before. It wasn't
much, but maybe it was a start. Healing wouldn't come overnight, and Angel
didn't expect it to, but he needed something to hold onto, needed something to
hang his hope on. Because he wasn't going to give this up, give her up. He might
still be young in years, but his life had been far from easy and he knew that
something like this didn't happen all the time. She was too important to let her
slip away. "I might be younger than you," but my life experience certainly
matches yours, he'd almost said, but in the face of her recent revelation he wasn't
so sure anymore. He couldn't, didn't even want to, imagine what it meant to lose
a child, even one you hadn't had the chance to hold in your arms. So he simply
said, "But does it really matter?"
She looked at him long and seriously, before she replied, "Maybe not. But I
can't think about it. Not tonight."
Angel saw Mrs. Summers coming back again, holding a cup of tea in her hand,
"Did you notice your mother is here?"
Buffy's startled eyes flew to the older woman who was now kneeling down
beside her, still holding the cup. "Mom?"
"Yes, baby. I'm here."
"Oh, mom," Buffy pressed a hand on her lips, only now realizing that her
mother had heard the story too.
"It's okay," Joyce said soothingly, glad when Angel took the cup from her
hands, and reached out to her child. "I needed to hear it. And I'm sorry I wasn't
there. I'm sorry I was such a horrible mother."
"Oh, mom," Buffy said again, "I never thought that."
"I know," Joyce smiled despite the pain Angel could see in her eyes, "But it's
the truth. But maybe," she wet her lips, uncertain how to go on, "if you let me,
we could try to make this better. I never wanted us to drift apart like this. Maybe
it's too late to be your mother again, but how about being a friend, do you have
any need for one in your life?"
Another sob came from the younger woman's throat, and with a muffled cry
she flung herself into her mother's waiting arms. "Oh, mom. Yes, yes, I'd like
that. A friend. A mother. Mom, I missed you so."
"And I missed you," Joyce replied. Her eyes met Angel's over her daughter's
shoulder, and there was a world of emotions in them. Angel knew they had to
talk, all of them, especially Buffy and her mom. But that would come later.
Today all that mattered was that the healing had begun.
Part 18
There is always a wicked secret,
a private person
--- W.H. Auden
Joyce closed the door quietly, careful not to disturb Buffy who had fallen into
a light sleep only moments ago. She sighed and leaned against the door, closing
her own eyes for a moment, when she suddenly remembered that there was still
a man sitting in her daughter's kitchen, a man whose full name she still didn't
know. She'd been tempted to ask her daughter about him, but one look at her still
tear stained face, the swollen eyes, the exhaustion that seemed to have invaded
every fiber of Buffy's body wasn't something she could just ignore. So she hadn't
asked, but she still wanted to know.
Maybe it was just curiosity, or maybe it was the concern of a mother who'd just
rediscovered her true responsibilities, that made her push away from the door
and walk slowly into the small kitchen. There he sat, long legs stretched out in
front of him, head leaned against the wall, eyes closed.
For a moment Joyce just looked at him. He seemed awfully young and
vulnerable that way, certainly not older than the twenty-six years Buffy had
mentioned, but Mrs. Summers already knew that the moment he opened his eyes
the impression would change completely. There was a world of knowledge in
those eyes that seemed much too old for the man they belonged to, and Joyce
found herself wondering what had happened in his life to put that knowledge
there.
The very same moment said eyes opened and stifling a yawn, he gave her a
smile, straightening in the chair. "Mrs. Summers," he acknowledged her,
standing up, impressing her with his manners. She knew the reaction had been
unconscious, he was too tired, too concerned to care, and maybe because of that,
it impressed her even more.
"Please sit down," she nodded at him. "I still don't know how to call you."
"Liam," he replied, smiling again. "Liam Sullivan."
"My daughter," she cleared her throat that was still feeling raw from the
emotional roller-coaster she'd been through tonight, "called you Angel?"
She almost smiled when he blushed slightly, "That," he laughed a little,
obviously embarrassed. "My sister used to call me that. And somehow, it stuck."
He shrugged, "I don't know why, but Buffy insists on using the stupid name."
Joyce nodded, understanding instantly why her daughter had chosen to stick with
his nickname. It somehow fit the man she was looking at. She had seen his
gentleness while dealing with a distraught Buffy, had heard the softness in his
voice, all his senses attuned to the woman he obviously loved. "I see," she
nodded again, finding a chair for herself, and rubbed her temples wearily.
"She is asleep?" he inquired, concern heavy in his gaze.
"Yes," she nodded for the third time, raising her head, "Finally. I'm ... Im still
having trouble coming to terms with what I heard tonight. To think she never
told me," she shook her head. "I always wanted to be the best mother. I read so
many books, but I'm a total failure."
"Don't," he said softly, much in the same tone he'd used with Buffy before, and
Joyce looked up. "Beating yourself up won't help. Buffy needs you. Now. That's
all that matters. This isn't a best-mother-of-the-year contest."
Scrutinizing his gaze for a long moment, Joyce was again stunned by the
wisdom this young man obviously possessed. Then - once again - she looked
into his eyes and it all seemed so clear. Slowly she ran a hand through her hair,
"Do you want something?" she asked, gesturing at the kitchen counter.
"No, thanks," he declined with a smile. She looked tired and worn, Angel
noticed. Which, given the circumstances, wasn't surprising at all. How would he
feel finding out that his daughter had kept something like that from him? The
way Joyce obviously felt right now, he thought, answering his own question.
"But what about you?"
"No," she sighed wearily. "I couldn't, not now." With a glance at the clock, she
leaned back in her chair, "You seemed to know exactly what to say to her."
He shrugged, a little bit uncomfortable with the change of subject. "I've had
some experience." He'd given everything not to have it, but tonight it had proven
useful at least.
Joyce waited a moment, before she asked, "Someone close to you?"
Angel knew that she wasnt trying to be nosy, or intrusive. She just wanted to
understand, wanted to hear a reason why Buffy had told him and not her. Still, he
didn't want to answer, but did nevertheless. "Yes," he said finally. "She's had it
rough."
She nodded, considering his words, realizing that for some reason he wasn't
offering more. But somehow - maybe because she'd seen him with Buffy tonight
- she didn't need anything else. Where she once would have demanded a lengthy
explanation, she kept quiet now. "I wish," she said finally, "her step-father was
still alive. He always knew how to handle her. They had a special connection.
Something," she laughed quickly, unhappily, "I'm painfully missing."
Angel ignored her self-loathing, and instead concentrated on the other subject,
"Buffy loved him very much."
It wasn't a question, Joyce realised, but a statement, and again she wondered
what this young man already knew about her daughter. "She told you about
him?"
"I draw," he replied to give her an explanation, "and I paint, even though I'm
not anywhere as good as your late husband. But in that way we had something in
common."
"I see," Joyce nodded again, thinking that Rupert's painting couldn't be the
only thing they had in common. Not only had Buffy told Angel about her
experience in college, shed told him about her step-father, a subject she never
touched, not even with her mother. Not that it meant much, Joyce thought with
an inward sigh. After tonight she had seen the full extent of the degree mother
and daughter had grown apart, had been forced to face the unpleasant truth. But
Buffy had opened up to Angel in a way that was heartbreaking and touching at
the same time. Buffy had opened up her soul, had given the young man her trust.
Growing apart or not, Joyce was certain of one thing. Buffy had never been one
to give her trust easily, but when she gave it, it meant something.
Even though Joyce was still trying to found out what exactly.
"So Buffy and you have been seeing each other?" she asked finally, cautiously.
Angel wouldn't betray Buffy's trust, Joyce knew.
And true, the moment the words were out of her mouth, his eyes narrowed
slightly, and he looked at her speculatively. "I'm not sure this is something you
should discuss with me," he replied slowly, pronouncing each word carefully, but
his voice was still soft, not at all offended or defensive.
Joyce smiled slightly, she couldn't help herself, "Have people ever told you
that you surprise them?"
A smiled crept up his features in return, transforming them from good looking
and serious to dangerously attractive, "Once or twice."
"I can't imagine why", she said dryly, but there was a lot of humor in her voice.
"You're not at all what I expected when I saw you."
"Why?" he shot back, "Because I'm not wearing a suit and tie. Or because I'm
younger than your daughter?"
"A little bit of both, I think," she replied honestly. "To my embarrassment, I
have to admit I tend to be one of those people who judge others too quickly
sometimes. But one is never too old to change, I suppose."
He let that remark go, knowing that it didn't need to be commented on. Instead
he leaned back, looked at Buffy's mother for a moment, before he said slowly,
"Maybe it's a good time to warn you now."
Her brows shot straight up, "Warn me?"
"Yeah," the smile crept up again, softening his serious eyes. "I'm planning to
stick around Buffy for a while, probably a long while, so you'd better get used to
me."
She should be outraged, Joyce knew, but after everything she'd seen tonight,
there was no outrage left, no indignation at his statement. He didn't look at all
like the man she'd hoped for her daughter, and yet he seemed to be exactly what
she needed. Sometimes, she thought with a chuckle, mothers just had to accept
things and be glad they'd worked out so well. Especially mothers who'd
forgotten what it meant to be one.
"Is that so?" she looked at him sternly, but couldn't hold back her grin for long.
"Well, if that's the truth, we'd probably better start by you calling me Joyce."
*****
She was smiling at her. A full blown, toothless smile, a smile she knew so well.
That little girl with blond locks and blue eyes, blue eyes like all babies have,
blue eyes like an angel.
She had seen the smile before, so often she couldn't count. And she knew the
girl. Only sometimes it was a boy. A little boy with dark eyes and hair. His feet
were perfect. His hands were, too. The hands of an artist. A painter. Or a
musician. A baby's hands.
A smile played on Buffy's features as she slept. The same smile she saw on the
baby's face. Happy. Content. But her head was already thrashing left and right,
knowing what would come, knowing the joy wouldn't last long, couldn't last
long.
The shadow came slowly, it always did. Dark and threatening, and it was going
to steal the smile and the baby. The shadow didn't have a face or a smile. It didn't
have eyes, nor hands or feet. It was just dark and dangerous. And painful. God,
she was so tired of the pain, didn't want to feel it anymore. But she knew it was
in vain. She could already feel the edges of it, could already feel it tearing at her
womb, taking what was precious, what she already loved
Her fingers clawed into the sheet, the covers already on the floor. She was
lying on the bed only in a tee-shirt and panties, trying to fight the pain, trying not
to surrender to the fight she knew she couldn't win. It would go. The smile. The
laughter. The beautiful eyes. She was prepared for it, knew it, but that didn't
mean it would hurt less.
Buffy gasped for air, the nightmare still holding her in it's grasp. Tears started
leaping from her closed lids, forming little streams on her cheeks, instantly
wiped away when the skin came into contact with the pillow while her head was
thrashing from one side to the other. She tried to reach for the smile, but the
shadow was already growing, tried to hold on to the eyes, but they were already
gone, blinded by pain and fear. Then suddenly a little ray of light started to built
at one edge of the shadow, growing bigger by the second. It had only been a
shimmer at first, but now it was spreading, starting to surround the shadow,
chasing it away.
And after a few moments there was so much light, Buffy felt almost blinded by
it. She tried to see, tried to reach out. But it was too late, the smile and laughter
was gone. But for the first time, so was the shadow.
The thrashing of her head stopped the moment her eyes popped open, staring
at nothing for a short moment, before focusing on the ceiling that was barely
visible in the dark bedroom. Only the pale light of the not quite full moon shone
through the window where the curtains hadn't been closed. Her breathing
slowing, Buffy wiped the remaining traces of tears from her cheeks. What a
strange dream. It had been so familiar, she'd dreamt it hundreds of times before,
but never had it ended in pure light. Always the shadow had won.
She remembered waking up in Riley's arms, crying and screaming the name
she'd given her unborn child, remembered Riley trying to soothe her, but at loss
how, not knowing what had caused the nightmare in the first place. A part of her
had longed to snuggle into his embrace, to let his strong arms surround her with
warmth. But strangely his arms had never promised warmth or tenderness.
They'd felt like something foreign, something that didn't belong there. And
suddenly it was all there. The warmth. The tenderness. The light. She didn't feel
alone like usual. She felt enveloped in love and understanding, felt treasured and
held, even though she was alone in her bed. But in her heart she knew that he
was out there, still watching over her, that he hadn't just left when her mother
had helped her to go to bed.
She'd thought herself ruined forever, ruined for any kind of emotional bond,
for any kind of trust, and in consequence, for love. Because there was no love
where there was no trust. It had been her reason for going for nice and easy - for
the Rileys in this world. The good, reliable guys that were undemanding, and
utterly harmless, because they had never touched her heart, her inner core.
And like a curtain being torn from her inner eye, she realised with startling
awareness that that had been the reason for her shying away from Angel. From
the first moment shed met him, she'd felt something stirring inside of her, had
felt that hiding from his knowing eyes wasn't possible. With a feeling that
bordered on despair, that hidden part had reached out for him, wanting him, as if
he was the one, the only one to heal her wounds, to soothe her broken spirit and
soul.
Funny that he'd had the same impact on her like his step-brother had had so
many years ago. The attraction had been instant and strong. The difference was
she had been a stupid girl then, and was a wary woman now. And where there
had been darkness and carelessness in Parker, there was so much light, so much
tenderness in Angel, it took her breath away.
She'd been pushing him away, telling herself that it could never work, that he
was too young, too different, while her heart had already known it had been
nothing but excuses, born from her fear of risking her heart again. But he hadn't
run like others, he'd stayed, had shown his love in so many ways, she couldn't
count. He'd taken her insults, had taken her flirting with Spike, had taken
everything because he loved her, because she mattered to him.
He wasn't like Parker who had only needed a few hours to replace her with the
next stupid girl on campus. Angel was nothing like his step-brother. He was true,
strong, loving, and she trusted him. And, she admitted to herself for the first
time, she loved him. And this love was spreading like a fire through her,
warming places she'd thought cold and lost forever, opening her soul and heart.
She wasn't emotionally crippled like she'd thought all these years. She loved.
And was loved back. And it was the most amazing feeling she'd ever known.
Part 19
Special disclaimer: the lyrics used in this are from the song Love Must Be
Telling Me Something by LeAnn Rimes from her album I Need You. They are not
mine. Never will be. *sigh*. Lyrics in ////
Faith Marshall was still furious with herself, with her parents, with Lindsey
MacDonald, and with the world in general, when the door of her dorm room
opened at ten o'clock at night, and her friend and roommate wandered in,
wearing a silly, satisfied grin on her face.
Tess stopped as soon as her eyes fell on the other woman, lying sprawled on
her stomach on her bed, "Hey, Faith. You're back." She stopped, sniffed, "Did
you - smoke?"
Damn. Some of the stale smoke that seemed to be attached to Lindsey's clothes
still had to be in the air. Faith pushed herself into a sitting position, "A friend
came to visit," she replied. It wasn't actually a lie. Someone had come to visit.
Only, he wasn't a friend. They might have fucked like bunny rabbits, but nothing
earth-shattering had happened.
**Really?** a little voice inside her head whispered. **And how about that
earth-shattering climax. How about those stormy eyes you don't seem able to
forget?**
Disturbed with the annoying little voice, Faith tucked her long hair behind her
ears, "We talked." Now that was an outright lie, but no way she'd tell her friend
what had happened in this room tonight. And on the very spot Tess was standing
in.
"That means it wasn't the one who was here this afternoon," Tess said while
crossing the room to her own bed and sitting down.
Friend? She didn't have friends. Besides Tess, that is. Instantly alert, Faith
straightened, her gaze sharpening on her friend. "Someone was here today?"
"Mmmmm," Tess replied, lying back on the bed, still fully clothed, and sighing
contentedly. "You know," she added dreamily, "Daniel is such a sweetie."
Irritated with the change of subject, Faith tried to control her annoyance, and
asked, "Daniel? You mean Daniel Carmichael?" If the situation had been
different, if she hadn't been in this mess, she had brought on her all by herself,
she might have been able to sound interested at the news of her best friend
dating the college quarterback, but as it was, her voice sounded flat, the interest
forced.
And Tess - knowing her like nobody else did - knew it instantly, "Excuse me,"
she said bitingly, "that my private life isn't as interesting and fucked up as
yours."
Hating herself for her reaction because she cared for Tess in a way she cared
for nobody else, Faith stood up, and walked to her friends bed, looking down at
her for a moment, then sitting on the edge. "I'm sorry," she said, reaching for her
friend's hand. "I don't mean to be such a bitch, it's just everything is so
complicated and," she grinned slightly, "fucked up."
After a moment Tess grinned back, "Yeah, I know." She sighed, "And I didn't
mean to sound so so selfish."
"No, that's okay. So you went on a date with Daniel Carmichael. That's great
news." Again the enthusiasm was missing from her voice, Faith realised, but at
least she sounded more sincere.
"Yeah," another happy sigh slipped from Tess' lips. "We didn't actually *do*
anything, mind, but the evening was so he was sweet, and thoughtful, and
perfect."
"Sounds like a match made in heaven," the brunette replied, smiling to take the
edge from her words. But when she saw her friend's smile fall, she sighed, and
ran a hand through her hair. "God, Tess, I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong
with me tonight."
**Liar, liar, pants on fire.** The little voice taunted. **You know exactly
what's wrong with you. You can't forget about your stormy eyed prince in an
expensive suit. The guy who marched into your life like a thunderstorm and
refused to leave again.**
God, this was disturbing. Nobody could call her innocent, Faith thought with
an inward laugh that wasn't laughter at all. No, nobody could, not by a long shot.
Still, Lindsey MacDonald, with his blue eyes that could turn to stormy gray in
the matter of moments, had touched something inside of her nobody had ever
touched before. And it was turning her insides upside down.
"Hey, it's okay," Tess' hand squeezed her own. "I know a lot's going on in your
life. I wouldn't want to be in your shoes for all your dad's money."
A sarcastic smile turned up Faith's lips. "Thanks. So, that friend of mine you
mentioned. Do you remember the name?"
"No," Tess shook her head. "Sorry. He might have said it, but it somehow
slipped my mind. But he was a hunk. Tall, dark, handsome. A slightly brooding
look, but you know how that adds to some men's attraction."
Alarm bells rang in the back of Faith's mind. She didn't know anyone who fit
the description. Wrong, she amended instantly. She might know someone, but
for the life of her couldn't remember who. Too many men had come and gone
throughout her life, to rule out the possibility of the one Tess had just described.
"What did he want?" she asked finally when she caught Tess looking at her
expectantly.
"So you don't know him?"
"No," Faith shook her head, hoping it was true.
"Well, he said he was a PI-"
"A PI?" The alarm bells were ringing up a storm by now. A PI?
"Well, yeah. I supposed he works for your dad," Tess stopped, chewing her
lower lip, "at least that's what I assumed. Thinking about it, he never really said.
He asked some questions about you."
By now her ears were almost falling off by the tornado the alarm bells were
causing in her head, "What questions?"
"Nothing special. What kind of girl you were? He knew about Kevin."
The blood drained from Faith's face in a rush, her skin suddenly feeling
clammy and strangely unreal. "K-kevin?" she stuttered.
"Yeah." Confused. Tess sat up, touching her friend's shoulder, "Hey, is
something wrong? He really talked as if he knew."
"N-no," Faith shook her head, feeling a tremble run through her whole body.
Kevin. God, she couldn't think about Kevin. It was the one thing in her
thoroughly fucked up life she really wanted to forget, but somehow it seemed to
pop up at every turn. She didn't seem able to get rid of the stain the memory still
caused on her soul. Involuntarily her left hand moved to her stomach, a place
where once a child had nestled, a child she'd killed. It didn't matter that her
parents had forced her to have an abortion. She'd been nineteen then, an adult, it
had ultimately been her decision. She had killed her child, and she had to live
with it. Not her parents, who had long forgotten about that "incident."
"Faith, are you okay?"
She heard Tess' voice as if from a great distance, and nodded, not wanting to
worry her. Tess was her friend, but how could she understand what it meant to
kill something that was already part of you? "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Why don't
you tell me more about your date with Daniel?" she asked, standing and walking
back to her own bed. She let Tess' voice wash over her, hoping it would rid her
of the guilt and pain, but knowing it would never happen.
*****
She looked exhausted, her hair mused from sleep, her eyes red-rimmed. Her
cheeks still bore the traces of recent tears, but to Angel she was still the most
beautiful woman he'd ever seen. When she saw him, the sleepiness seemed to
vanish, and a hesitant smile tilted up the corners of her mouth that caused a
funny feeling to spread through his chest, enveloping his heart, making him feel
joyously happy and dizzy at the same time. He tried to put a halt to this feeling,
tried to rein in his hope, not wanting to read too much in that one tentative smile,
but knew it was already too late. His hope had already shot right through the
roof. There was no way he could put a lid on it now.
"Hey," he said softly, hoping his voice wouldn't come out too hoarse,
expressing everything he felt at the sight of her, only dressed in panties and a
skimpy t-shirt.
She stopped in mid-stride, her smile slipping a little, but she looked at him
steadily, and there was something in her eyes he didn't quite dare to read. It was
a new softness he hadn't seen before.
"Buffy!" Joyce turned away from the sink where she'd just been rinsing a cup
and smiled at her daughter, "How are you feeling?"
"What," Buffy began, then cleared her throat when her voice wouldnt come out
in little more than a whisper. "What time is it?" she managed finally.
"A little after midnight," Joyce supplied, filling the cup in her hand with shaky
fingers. She didn't know what to expect from her daughter now, didn't know how
to act around her. She was still the same Buffy, but in a way, she also wasn't. So
she took the easiest way for now, "Do you want something?" She gestured at the
cup in her hand.
"No, thanks," Buffy retorted on a little yawn, before her attention shifted to
Angel. "You're still here."
The slight wonder in her voice, and the pleased surprise in her eyes did funny
things to his gut, and Angel realised that she hadn't had a lot of good surprises in
her life. No, mostly they'd been quite the opposite, like realising that the father
of your unborn child was nothing but scum, or that your boyfriend didn't
remember the first girl he'd been intimate with. Angel made a vow to himself,
there and then, that from now on he'd bring a lot of good surprises into her life.
He smiled softly, "Where would I go?"
"How about home?" she replied, sitting down on the chair opposite to his.
He shrugged, "Not that I don't like my house, and maybe I could have done
something really important. Like cleaning. But did you really expect me to just
go?"
She waited what seemed like an endless moment with her answer, the
importance, the profoundness of it hanging in the air like lead. And when a
silent, almost whispered, "No," left her lips, her eyes met Angel's and held, a
world of meaning passing between them.
//Cant speak, cant breathe
Cant get up off my knees
Dont know what comes over me//
Joyce suddenly felt like an intruder into something private, something she
wasn't part of. A part of her resented it, she was Buffy's mother after all, knew
her daughter for more than 30 years. Another part wanted to just leave - they
might not notice her departure anyway - but something kept her rooted in place.
For the most part, however, she just couldn't go, after forming a new, but still
very fragile, bond with her daughter tonight.
That very same moment, Buffy seemed to remember her mother's presence,
and with great difficulty - so it seemed - tore her gaze away from the man across
the table. "Mom," she said slowly, "You must be tired."
Tired? Joyce didn't feel tired at all. Emotionally drained. Yes. Weary. Maybe.
But not tired. Her whole being was still in turmoil from all the things she never
wanted, but had needed, to hear. Yet, she was still mother enough to recognize
the silent message Buffy was sending with her eyes.
Lying through her teeth, something she'd never done before, but which was
maybe a result of her newly required mother instinct, Joyce looked around for
the purse she'd deposed somewhere but long forgotten. "Yes, yes," she nodded,
"I'm tired."
Buffy's mouth turned into a half-smile in response, a smile that seemed so
much more intimate than all the forced cheer Joyce had received over the past
years. Blinking against the tears that were suddenly threatening to well up, she
saw her purse laying on the desk in the hallway. "I'm going to leave you on your
own now." She gave the couple a smile, "Angel, it was nice meeting you, maybe
you'll come over some time. With Buffy. I'd like to have you for dinner."
Without looking up, without taking his eyes from her daughter's face, Angel
nodded, "That would be nice."
"Well, then it's settled," Joyce walked back to her daughter, purse in hand. She
bent down and kissed the younger woman's cheek, glad when Buffy didn't flinch
the way she had so often before. "See you soon, honey," she whispered.
"Thank you, mom. For being there for me."
God, she had to leave now, Joyce thought desperately, or she'd start to bawl
like a little girl. "Bye," she said instead, hurrying out of the apartment without
looking back, content in the knowledge that her daughter had all that mattered
right now.
*
Buffy found him watching her the moment the door fell shut, and she focused
on Angel again. His lids had dropped slightly, giving his eyes an intense and
strangely disturbing look.
//Whenever you come near
Hearts pounding in my chest
Little voice inside my head
Cant hear a word it says
But the feelings loud and clear.//
Buffy felt heat spread through her body, her lips suddenly going dry, and it
intensified when he finally spoke, his voice hoarse with a mixture of suppressed
passion and want. "You sent her away," he said slowly, his eyes darkening
underneath the lids.
"Yes, I did," she confirmed, holding his gaze.
"Why?" He bit out the one word, as if it was too hard to say it at all.
"I think you know why." She gave him a smile that grew slightly tremulous. It
was ridiculous, she told herself. She'd made love with him on the hood of a car,
and in the dirt beside a highway, but somehow this was different. They had come
together in a moment of heated passion then. Tonight, however, she was
initiating it on purpose, and with a feeling in her heart that made her utterly
vulnerable.
//Love must be telling me something
Giving me some kind of sign
Spelling it out for me
Love must be telling me
I must be falling tonight//
She saw him shift slightly in his chair, for a moment wondering if the reason
could be an arousal as painful as hers, for she was most certainly aroused, the
heat between her legs turning into a most delightful ache she welcomed with
pleasure. It was all because of him, the man her heart had taken in whole, had
admitted she loved, and for him, the man who'd stood by her, had not wavered,
no matter how hard she'd tried to push him away.
"Buffy." His voice pulled her from her thoughts. "I'm not sure this is a good
idea tonight, not after-"
"I am sure," she said firmly. No way she would let him retreat, would let him
go all gentlemanly on her. Not tonight of all nights, not when she'd finally
discovered she was still capable of love, of joy, of pleasure. Not when she
needed him, when every fibre of her body was crying out for him. "I am very
sure," she repeated, emphasising her point. Then she reached out, covering his
hands with hers. "Or don't you want me?"
//Ive been in love and lost
I swore Id sworn it off
No matter what the cost
Id learn to live without//
His response was a low groan that seemed to come from a place deep inside of
him. "God, Buffy. I'll always want you, no matter what. I just thought-"
She put two fingers over his lips, sealing them, the contact sending goosebumps all over her body. "Then why don't you stop thinking now," she
suggested, letting her voice drop to a seductive whisper, "and take me to bed
instead?"
//But you werent in my plans
Now baby here I am
I still dont understand
But I know there aint no doubt//
She could see the moment his control snapped, could see his eyes going almost
black, his lids dropping even further, giving his face a thoroughly sensual look.
He was out of his chair in a flash, gathering her in his arms, lifting her up, and as
they were getting closer to the bedroom, his mouth was already fusing with hers,
his tongue demanding entrance while his teeth were nipping her lips, gently
teasing, promising more to come.
The door to her bedroom was thankfully open, so he just pushed his way
inside, Buffy still securely wrapped in his arms, her hands roaming through his
hair, making the skin of his skull tingle. As soon as they reached her bed, his
knees bumping against the edge, he let her down gently, but kept contact with
her, not willing to break it. "Buffy," he whispered her name hoarsely, his hand
combing through her blond hair, so soft to his touch, like silk, caressing his skin.
"God, Buffy."
She chuckled then, a low sound, thoroughly sensual, but a bit uncertain at the
same time, "I know," she whispered, her eyes locking with his. "I know. You
can't know how I feel right now. When I lost the baby," she paused, searching for
something in his eyes, then, obviously finding it, she went on, "I wanted to die.
A part of me did."
"But you're alive, Buffy. And so am I. And that's what counts. All that counts."
He kissed her, softly this time, without tongue, just a touch lips to lips, sweet,
almost hesitant, before he looked at her again. "Do you understand what I'm
saying?"
"I'm starting to," she replied, laughing shakily. Her heart was pounding in her
chest, almost jumping with the sheer joy. It was a feeling that was so completely
foreign to her, she could hardly bear it. She could smell his musky scent, could
feel the heat emanating from him, enveloping her, warming her from the inside
where she'd been so cold, so alone for so long.
Slowly she lifted her hand to his cheek, feeling the rough unshaven planes of
his face. He looked tired, probably a lot like herself, but it didn't matter, for his
eyes were so alive, so sparkling, she couldn't stop looking into them. They were
reaching deep into her soul and stirring the ashes of what she had thought were
long-dead coals - starting a fire that was blazing through her now. "I I can't
promise you anything," she told him, feeling shaky to the core. She had admitted
to herself she loved him, but wasn't ready to tell him. Not yet. But soon, she
promised herself, she would tell him soon.
"I'm not asking you to," he retorted, "If I learned anything from life, it's that
there aren't any guarantees. There can't be. Life is too uncertain.
"But I know I need you tonight. More than you'll ever know."
"I doubt that," he said, smiling slightly. "How could you need me more than I
need you? Tonight. Forever."
Her heart fluttered, and so did her stomach, "Forever is such a long time."
"Not long enough. Not nearly long enough." Cutting off further conversation
his lips covered hers again, and they parted instantly. Hot and slow his tongue
slipped into her mouth, tasting, questing, promising. She felt his breath on her
cheeks as his lips left her mouth, found a path from her cheeks, to her closed
eyelids, then down to the sensitive hollow of her throat, hot and alive, burning
her, claiming her, warming her.
His arms came around her, pulling her closer, his lips whispering her name
over and over. Buffy let her head fall back, let the sensations wash over her. She
knew she was mainly taking and not giving, but it didn't seem to matter to him,
didn't seem to slow him down. She could feel his hands slip underneath her shirt,
like two burning furnaces on the bare skin of her back. She felt her body turning
to liquid fire, molten and languid, fiercely aching for his touch.
Her breasts felt full and waiting, her nipples already erect, hardened even more
when his mouth claimed them through the shirt. She moaned, her fingers
clawing his hair, her body arching against him, wanting him more than anything
she'd ever wanted in her life.
His hands wandered down her side, his fingertips tracing every curve, every
line of her body, down over her hips and finally coming to rest on her abdomen.
"Maybe one day," he whispered, "we will have a baby."
Startled from the passion that was already spiralling out of control, she looked
at him, "Wh-what?"
"Nothing," he whispered, kissing her again. "Do you ever imagine what it
would have looked like?" he asked.
"Looked like?"
"The baby," he clarified. "Do you sometimes imagine its face?" He already did,
he realised, could already picture a little girl with blond hair and hazel eyes, the
image of her mother. Shed be a miniature Buffy, a girl he could spoil and protect,
and make sure she would never drift away from her parents the way her mother
had. A girl that would help to chase Buffy's shadows away. She would never
forget about the child she had lost, she wouldn't be the woman he loved it she
could, but maybe she would learn to live with it, secure in the love and trust she
was receiving.
She stared at him for a moment, saw the love and understanding in his eyes,
the warmth, and nodded, "Yes, I do. All the time. Sometimes she has blue eyes,
or he has dark ones."
"Sometimes it's a boy and sometimes a girl?"
"Hmmm," she agreed, when his hand slipped back underneath her tee-shirt,
moving upward, towards the curve of her breast. "God, Angel."
"I love you," he said, kissing her again, "I'm glad you can talk about it now."
"Only with you," she replied, kissing him back.
"I'm glad," he whispered, the love for her consuming him completely.
"I was so cold for so long, Angel," she told him, "so cold."
"Then," he said, his warm breath, tickling the skin of her neck, "let me warm
you. Let me chase the cold away."
//But you werent in my plans
Now baby here I am
I still dont understand
But I know there aint no doubt.//
Go to Part 20
Blissful Encounter
Part 20
When a noise, sounding a lot like someone ringing the bell at his front door,
came floating to Wesleys ears, he didnt open his eyes. Groaning instead, he
reached for the pillow next to him and pulled it over his head, hoping to block
out the ringing noise that went from his ears straight to his head, almost splitting
it in two, reminding him once again why downing two whole bottles of Scotch
last night had been a bad thing for a guy at his age.
But self-pity, loneliness, and a dose of good old despair thrown into the mix
had made him forget all about his almost forty year old body, and the way it
wouldnt take it too kindly when fed with an unusual amount of alcohol.
Something he would pay for dearly the whole morning he guessed.
Hed been out for the better part of yesterday, trying to research stuff for the
book he was planning to write for ages, but never had found time for. Now with
the mess Faith Marshall had made of his career, he finally had the time, although
it was still highly unlikely any publisher would be interested in a book by
someone whod been accused of sexually harassing one of his students. But with
nothing better to do, researching a book had still looked better than just staring
into space the whole day, and so hed gone off to the college library, a place still
open to him, even though he was suspended otherwise.
And it had helped taking his mind off his current problems, stopped him from
thinking about the progress Kathies brother would make or make not. The whole
thing was driving him crazy the way it was. So hed actually managed to do
something for the book that might never be published after all, and returned to
his home hoping to find something on his answering machine from Liam, telling
him about his progress. But all that had been waiting for him was a call from
Kathie cancelling their date because of an emergency with a friend, and no news
from her brother.
Thoroughly frustrated with the day, Wesley had finally succumbed to those
two bottles of Scotch, the results he could now feel in a pounding headache and
a stomach that had long gone from queasy to openly revolting, clearly protesting
against the mistreatment of the previous night.
The ringing came again, longer this time, and with a frustrated groan, Wesley
threw the pillow away, struggled to sit up on his bed without having his head
split in two by the blinding pain that shot through his skull. Realising he was still
fully dressed, all his clothes wrinkled to a point where it almost looked
fashionable again, he finally managed to stand, glad the world wasnt spinning
around him, even though his stomach protested against the sudden change of
direction and squeezed dangerously.
Fighting down the nausea, Wesley found his way towards his door, then tore it
open, determined to shout at whoever was daring to disturb his Saturday
morning, but the words died on his lips when he saw Kathie standing in front of
him, her chestnut hair pulled back into a ponytail, wearing old, faded jeans, a red
turtleneck and the barest hint of makeup. His stomach did a funny little flip-flop
that had nothing to do with too much Scotch, and a lot with his hormones that
seemed to have gone wild lately. Kathie? He stared at her, unable to tear his gaze
from her beautiful brown eyes.
She stared right back at him, probably assessing the situation, taking in his
rumpled appearance, the yellowish colour Wesley knew his face must show. Uhoh, she made, not waiting for him to invite her, just pushing past, and entering
his house as if it was her own, something that sent another little flip-flop through
his system. It was a nice idea thinking of his house as theirs. You smell like the
next low-life bar after midnight, she commented finding her way into the kitchen
and Wesley had no problem detecting the disapproval in her voice.
Absentmindedly closing the door, he turned, following her and finding her at
the sink deposing the contents of a paper bag hed not seen her carrying before.
He couldnt exactly make out what shed brought with her, but glimpses of red
and green led him to believe it was vegetables.
The thought of actual food sent another wave of nausea through him, making
him feel as green as the cucumber she put on the counter beside the sink. I uh
suppose I had a little bit too much last night, he said after his stomach had settled
and the dizziness in his head vanished.
One of her delicate brows came up, A little?
Annoyed with her insight, but more with his own foolish behaviour, he sighed,
Okay, I had two bottles of Scotch. Expensive ones, if I may add. So what? Im an
adult. I can choose to get drunk if I want.
No arguments on the chosen part, she replied, not looking at him, but Im not
sure about the adult thing. Adults dont drink themselves into oblivion.
He heard the edge in her voice, saw the strange stiffness in her shoulders, but
he was too surprised by her strange behaviour that he didnt pay them any
attention at first. I wasnt oblivious, he protested, then thinking about the way hed
passed out on his bed, still wearing all his clothes, he amended, Okay, I acted
irrational. I felt sorry for myself. He paused for a beat, then added, I missed you.
Thats nice to hear, she said, still not turning around, but I I never saw you
drink before. And of course I didnt see it last night, either, but do you drink
often? The question came out oddly forced, and Wesley saw she had gripped the
counter so tightly, her knuckles turned white.
Forgetting all about his headache and his nausea, Wesley was behind her in
two steps. Cautiously reaching out, he planted a hand on her shoulder, startled by
the tight knotted muscles in it. Kathie? he asked softly, What is it?
She said nothing for a moment, then a pained little noise left her lips, sounding
a lot like a little kitten in pain. Wesley felt it slice through him like a knife.
Kathie? he asked again. Did I do anything? I really dont drink as a rule. The last
time I got drunk like that was, he chuckled slightly, I have a hard time
remembering it, some time during college I suppose.
A forced laugh left her mouth then, but it instantly turned into a sob, and with
utmost tenderness he turned her to him, tilting up her face, and found her eyes
swimming in tears. Kathie? he said her name for the third time. Darling, what is
the matter?
She had to smile at the endearment that slipped so much easier these days, but
couldnt help a tear to slip from her eye. Shaking her head, she said, There is
nothing. Im just being silly.
Disappointment flickered in his eyes, and with a stab Kathie realised it was
because of her. She and Wesley had steady gotten closer over the past weeks, his
kisses had grown bolder, but they hadnt been intimate beyond a passionate kiss
and the occasional fondling. And it was because of her, because she wasnt ready
for more, wasnt ready to give up her last safety belt, to let him tear down the rest
of her protective wall.
I see, he said tightly, pulling back, taking with him the warmth that had
enveloped her just before. So you still dont trust me, huh? Do you think there is
something true in Faiths accusations after all?
NO, she shouted, horror in her eyes that he could think such a thing. No, she
repeated. I would never think that. Never. Youve got to believe me.
I have, huh? he laughed, but it was without humor. And what about you, why
dont you believe?
Startled, and confused, she shook her head, But I do. I believeHe interrupted her before she could finish, No, you dont. Not where it counts.
There you always keep you distance, never let me close. He looked at her for a
long moment, And Im trying to understand. I really am. But how can I when you
dont explain, when you just keep me guessing.
New tears were welling up in her eyes, and a tightness constricted her chest,
she had never felt before. She felt as if being caught in her own personal fortress,
safe but unhappy, and she couldnt find a way out. But but thats not true, she
cried, knowing very well that she was lying, could feel it in her heart, and see it
in his eyes. IYou dont trust me, he interrupted her again.
But I do, she protested, angrily wiping the tears from her face, I trust you.
More than I , she stopped, realising that again she was about to lie. More than
shed been about to say. More than what? More than everyone? Certainly not.
Angel was the person who knew all about her, and even he didnt know her best
kept, her darkest secret. Shed never been able to tell him, never been able to
open up, afraid what he might do as soon as he knew. And what would Wesley
do? What would he think about her, knowing the unspeakable, knowing
everything. Would he still look at her with love in his eyes, or would it be
replaced by disgust?
That, she realised, was her greatest fear. That he would stop loving her, stop
adoring her, the way he always did, the way his eyes were caressing her the
moment they fell on her.
I am right, he stated, his shoulder slumped, his eyes sad and knowing. You
dont trust me.
I , she started then broke off again, not knowing what to say, how to defend
herself. Then she tried again, Its not that. Its hard to explain. Its complicated and
, she shook her head, swallowed, There are things in my past I cant talk about
them - yet.
Yet? Or not ever?
Im trying, she cried, despair clawing at her gut. Was she going to lose him?
She couldnt let it happen, couldnt risk losing the only man shed ever loved, the
only man she - trusted? I am trying, she whispered finally. Really, I am, Wes. I
am. You cant know how painful it is.
No, I cant because you never even tried to tell me. He shook his head, turned
away, sighing, Kathie, maybe you should leave me now. This is getting us
nowhere and I need a shower anyway.
She felt as if hed kicked in the gut by his words, felt her lower lip starting to
tremble, the tears spilling over. She was going to lose him. Oh God.
OHGODOHGODOHGOD. You are sending me away? she asked desperately.
Yes, he nodded, looked at her again. For now. You were clearly disgusted by
my post-drunken state, but you wont tell me why. You could hardly look at me.
And again, I have not the slightest idea whats the reason. I have some ideas, but
thats not the same. And Im not going to force you to tell me. It has to come from
you. Because you trust me. Because this , he gestured at her, then at himself, us
maters.
It does. Believe me, its important. More than that, its the most important thing
in my life, she cried, trying to make him see, make him understand, that she
wasnt doing this to hurt him, but because it was too hard, because it hurt too
much.
Maybe, he gave her a sad smile, then walked towards the door, Im going to
have a shower now. And I suppose youll find your way out. When he saw her
flinch, he added, This isnt the end, Kathie. But maybe we both need the distance.
Some time to think things over. Then he left, and Kathie couldnt remember ever
having felt more alone in her life, trying to understand when her idea of cooking
for him today had gone so wrong, and how she could make it right again.
*****
The first thing Angel felt when he woke that Saturday morning was the warm,
soft body laying sprawled atop of him. The next thing was that he didnt mind the
additional weight at all. Opening his eyes he saw Buffys head only inches apart
from his snuggled at his chest, her golden hair gleaming in the morning sun, her
breathing still even, telling him that she - unlike him - was still asleep. He almost
chuckled at that, but restrained himself, not wanting to wake her with the
movement of his chest.
But he did reach out, one finger softly touching her silken strands, marvelling
in the feeling to have her so close to him, so intimate and trusting. After the first
time hed made love three times more to her, one time only with his mouth,
bringing her to a climax all on her own, but hed almost followed her just by
watching her climbing and shatter, utterly open to him, revealing everything,
hiding nothing. Never in his life hed been closer to a human being, and it made
him feel like the king of the world.
This night had been about her, and her alone and she had taken everything with
a soul that seemed greedy for love and attention, a soul that had only now
realised it wasnt broken for good. Angel felt humbled beyond words that hed
been the one to give her back all the joy, that hed been allowed to be part of the
rebirth taking place right before his eyes. The first time theyd made love, on the
hood of her car, had been wonderful and hed always cherish the memory, but
there had been an urgency in her then, that was missing now. She had been
relaxed last night, letting the feeling wash over her, bathing in it, absorbing it
with every cell of her beautiful body.
Hed watched in awe, and hadnt he known it before, he would have known then
that this woman was his destiny. The way shed looked at him when shed climbed
to her last climax, the way her eyes had locked with his, the intense expression,
all that had strengthened the bond theyd been forming yesterday. She wasnt
careful anymore around him, wasnt trying to protect herself, because she
understood that with him it wasnt necessary.
She trusted him.
What are you thinking?
Her soft spoken words pulled him from his musings, making him smile before
he even looked at her. When he did, he felt his groin responding instantly and
heard her chuckle. Ohhh, she made, grinning like a cat whod just discovered the
fattest mouse in the stable. She let her eyelids drop a little, and licked her lips.
Shouldnt you be satisfied after last night?
I suppose its a question of temptation, he replied, grinning as well. God, this
was heaven. She was almost carefree and she took his breath away. He hadnt
seen her like this before, had always hoped, but never dreamt, that this woman
existed inside of her.
Is that so? She quirked one brow, and sighed when she felt his cock harden
against her thigh, Yeah, I suppose it is. A good think its Saturday and I can take
care of the little problem.
Buffy-, he began, but she stopped him.
Shhhh, she made, grinning at him again, her hazel eyes sparkling. You took
care of me last night, this time its my turn. I will love you so thoroughly, Liam,
Angel Sullivan that youre going to forget your name when Im finished with you.
I will make you plead for mercy, and wont show you any. She winked, then
chuckled, a low and throaty sound that made him stand up straight.
Angel smiled at her, Promises. Promises.
Promises, huh? She returned his smile, then, without warning, began making
her warning a reality.
**
Hmmm, she said, as soon as she was able to catch her breath, What a way to
wake up.
Uh-huh, was all he could offer, his head laying between her breasts, still inside
of her. Love you, he breathed.
He felt her shift beneath him, but again she didnt respond, just tightened her
arms around him, holding him close to her body, to her heart. She wanted to say
the words, but something, maybe some tiny part of residual fear was holding her
back, killing the words before they could leave her mouth. So she just kissed him
on his hair and sighed, Hungry?
Mmmm.
She felt him nod against her breast, his stubble that was even more prominent
than last night scratching the sensitive skin, making it tingle. But this time she
was too content, to satisfied to feel arousal again. Breakfast?
Shower first, he retorted, finally looking up and meeting her eyes. Good
morning by the way.
She grinned, Morning. What do you think about eggs and bacon?
Sounds like heaven. He kissed her, slowly, lazily in the afterglow of morning
sex. I could get used to this. My personal love slave, and shes able to cook, too.
How much do you earn? Could I stop working and reply on living off your
money?
She grinned, Not on your life, buddy. Im not going to support a lazy lover.
Not even one who , he wiggled his brows, made her laugh
Not even if you were Casanova. I believe in emancipation - of both sexes.
He sighed dramatically, That means Im still going to have to spend long nights
apart from you, in my car, drinking cold coffee.
For a moment she seemed to consider it, then shook her head, Youre getting no
pity from me. No way. Youre young and healthy. Earn your own money.
Angel laughed then, too. I wouldnt dream of living off my girlfriends income.
I know, she replied with sudden softness.
So how about that breakfast?
Go shower, she wiggled underneath him, pushing slightly at his shoulders. Itll
be ready as soon as youre finished. She reached for her shirt when he got up, and
pulled it over her head, grinning at the disappointed expression in his eyes. Go,
she ordered, and watching him disappear towards her bathroom, thinking that he
somehow seemed to belong already, and unlike with others, it didnt make her
want to throw up. This time, she wanted to shout with joy.
But because it was Saturday morning and most of her neighbours would
probably still sleeping, she walked towards the kitchen, humming a love song
instead.
Part 21
"What's that?"
Buffy's head came up with an almost audible snap, and she found Angel
standing in the doorway, only clad in a pair of unbuttoned jeans, and nothing
else. He was fresh from the shower, his hair still wet and several remaining
droplets were still clinging to his bare chest. Her mouth went instantly dry at the
sight and she had to swallow hard, before she could make her voice work. "Whwhat?" she asked in confusion, her mind refusing to do anything but focus on the
perfect example of the male species standing in her kitchen doorway.
His mouth turned into a knowing half-grin, but instead of commenting on her
current state he nodded at the flat box she'd placed on the chair she'd obviously
reserved for him. "That," he repeated. "Is it - for me?"
Following the direction of his eyes, Buffy looked at the package as well, and
after a moment she managed to pull herself together, and her thoughts away from
X-rated images racing through her mind. "Oh," she blushed, then cleared her
throat. "Yes, yes it is." Laughing slightly, and a little bit self-consciously, she
pointed at the box. "It's uhm nothing, really. I went out a couple of days ago."
She rolled her eyes, "Actually because I needed a cocktail dress, but I ended up
with this."
Now it was his turn to feel suddenly dry-mouthed, and oddly touched by the
idea of her buying something for him - at a time when their relationship hadn't
been one at all.
With slightly trembling fingers he reached out, touching the fragile wrapping
paper with initials stamped on it, probably coming from one of the expensive
boutiques she frequented, no doubt. For a moment, Angel found himself
wondering if this could ever work, with them coming from backgrounds so
different, then he firmly suppressed the thought. It was nonsense anyway. He had
worked too hard for this, he wouldn't let self-doubts destroy it again.
Backgrounds were just that, the past. It was up to them to make the present and
the future.
His voice rough with emotion he carefully lifted the box, placing it on the table
while he seated himself at the same time. "Can I - open it?"
"Of course," she encouraged, biting her lower lip as a sure sign of nervousness.
"Go on."
Tearing the wrapping, he lowered his eyes and lifted the lid. The box contained
an obviously handmade sweater, with a soft, rough-textured, dark-burgundy
background. It had an intricate pattern in white and blue, with a satin sheen to it.
Angel touched the sweater with tentative fingers. It felt wonderfully soft, and
was, without doubt, an expensive piece of clothing. But it was also a thoughtful,
well chosen gift from a woman he loved more than he'd thought possible. "It's
beautiful," he said softly, still looking at it, "I " rising his head, he smiled slowly.
"Thank you."
For a moment her features were blank, but then the most beautiful smile broke
out on her face, turning it radiant, like morning sunshine, and her eyes became
sparkling beacons. Angel suddenly found it hard to speak, felt himself tumbling
head-on into her, his breath quickening, his heart starting to race.
"I'm glad," Buffy said, totally oblivious to what her smile had done to him.
"Well, put in on. I want to see it on you."
Swallowing, he forced himself to relax. They had made love several times in
the last twelve hours, damn it. Why the hell did he still feel like a love-crazed
teenager at the sight of her beautiful smile? He'd thought he was past hormoneinduced love-sickness, but obviously he was wrong. At least, where Buffy was
concerned. He just had to look at her, and he turned to mush. "I uh yes, I will."
Standing up with the sweater in his hand, setting the box aside, he was grateful
for the chance to move, to give himself a moment to pull himself together.
Buffy watched as he pulled the sleeves over his hands, then lifted his arms. A
sudden rush of heat swept over her as she saw the muscles of his chest and belly
stretch and flex as he tugged the sweater over his head. Something about that
expanse of naked skin lessening as he pulled the edge of the sweater over his
shoulders, past the flat, male nipples, over the ridged abdomen and past the navel
that seemed intimately sexy to her, above the still unfastened waistband of his
jeans, made a wave of pleasure spread through her in ever widening ripples.
God, she was going to go insane, she decided. She was over thirty years old,
not a blushing virgin by a long shot, but Angel had awakened a side of her she
hadn't even known existed. She couldn't help thinking of the sweater coming off
instead of going on, and that rippling heat abruptly changed course and flooded
downward to pool in some low place inside her.
She felt color warm her cheeks and was glad he was busy straightening the
edge of the sweater and not looking at her. Or wasnt she? Then he smoothed a
hand down the front of the garment, pressing the softness of the sweater against
his chest as if he liked the feel of it against his skin.
And in a rush, the heat inside of her tripled.
It was even worse than last night, she realized. She wanted him - again. As if
she couldn't stand not touching him for a moment. She'd never known that
watching a man pulling on a sweater could be that erotic, could do such things to
her insides. It was like touching him herself, likeGod, this was madness. She couldn't even sit at a breakfast table and not
fantasize about making love to him.
"Buffy?"
She looked up then, at his face, into his eyes, and a shock rippled through her.
She found an answering heat in his brown orbs that had darkened so much they
were almost black.
Wetting her dry lips, she swallowed, "Angel?"
"Would you mind terribly if we'd skipped breakfast? I'm suddenly not very
hungry anymore."
She was out of her chair and walking towards him, before she even realized
what she was doing, "No. Im not very hungry either," she whispered.
He swallowed as well, his eyes turning even darker, becoming almost
impossibly black. "Ever done it in your kitchen?" he asked.
"N-no," she stuttered, feeling herself fall into his hypnotic gaze, "But I'm open
for a try."
"Good." His voice was hoarse and deep, making her knees turn to jelly. "I hope
this stuff isn't expensive."
"W-why?"
"Because I can't find it in me to care right now."
It was a good thing she had emptied the fruit basked the day before, and that
she'd never particularly liked that special coffee mug, because everything landed
on the floor, when he lifted her on the counter and made true of the promise
she'd seen in his eyes just before.
*****
Lindsey MacDonald closed the file he'd taken home with him for the weekend.
He propped his feet up on his small living-room table, entwined his hands
behind his head, and sighing, leaned back on his sofa. Usually he hated lazy
Saturday mornings, but somehow, in a strange way, this wasn't a Saturday
morning like all those others in his life. Although he didn't want to admit it, he
knew without a doubt that it had to do with a girl with a pair of brown eyes. A
girl who seemed tough as nails but was soft and vulnerable instead. She didn't do
a bad job of hiding it, but Lindsey had seen through her act from the very start.
Maybe because they were so alike when it came to hiding their true personality
was concerned.
Closing his eyes, he remembered the way she'd been clinging to him in the
final waves of orgasm, the way she'd thrown back her neck, wild and so
incredibly beautiful he'd had problems breathing. But he also remembered how
calculating she'd sounded in his office, how false her smile had been towards her
parents, how she'd tried to lie to him, tried to make him believe the poor bastard
had actually touched her in a way she never invited. In reality, he thought with a
mirthless laugh, it might have been the other way around.
Not that Wesley Wyndham-Price invited female fantasies as a rule. Lindsey
had seen the picture of the bookish professor with his dark-rimmed glasses, the
clothes that seemed too large for his thin frame. He had also seen the intelligent
eyes behind the thick lenses that told a lot about the sharp mind this man
possessed, and the seriousness that told the lawyer instantly that the professor
was a man to trust. But Lindsey was certain a sharp mind had never been part of
Faith Marshall's idea of an attractive man, neither was she particular on trust,
he guessed.
No, he thought, opening his eyes, whatever had happened between Faith
Marshall and Wesley Wyndham-Price had nothing to do with sexual harassment,
and all to do with a poor little rich girl who had too long suffered from parental
neglect. But she was a poor little rich girl who had also learned how to get what
she wanted. The English lit professor had simply come between them, or rather
given Faith a reason to use him. He'd probably refused to upgrade her, and now
the young woman was determined make him pay.
As beautiful as she was, Faith was a woman of contradictions, and as much as
she attracted him, as much as his senses went into overdrive at the mere thought
of her, he'd better not underestimate her, or he might not end up on top of her - a
place he'd like to take up for a while - but he would be her next victim. Yes, he
thought, standing up and walking towards the kitchen to refill his empty cup, he
would be smart to keep an eye on her. She might be fun and almost irresistibly
attractive, but she was also dangerous. And he'd do his damnedist not to forget
about it.
*****
Still wearing the silly grin on his face, something he didn't seem to be able to
get rid off this morning, Angel opened the door to his house some time around
noon, sighing contentedly like only a man could who'd been thoroughly satisfied
by the most amazing woman he could imagine. Shrugging out of his jacket, he
tossed it over a chair. He was still so relaxed in the afterglow of spending the
morning with Buffy, talking to Buffy, making love to Buffy. They had done it
once more before he left, this time against the wall of her hallway. He had to
chuckle at the memory, and felt his groin tighten at the images flickering before
his inner eye. Grinning, he shook his head, then walked into the kitchen.
He wasn't quite sure what he had expected to see there, probably nothing as his
mind seemed too preoccupied these days to do anything but picture Buffy
Summers - preferably naked - but it certainly wasn't his sister, sitting at the table,
an untouched glass of milk in front of her, her face hidden by the curtain of dark
hair falling around it. Her fingers were in her lap, but there was a stiffness in her
shoulders Angel knew only too well, had seen before, and had prayed never to
see again.
But here it was, and although the last thing he wanted to do today was get
involved in someone elses problems, he was also aware that when his sister was
concerned, almost nothing mattered. They'd gone through thick and thin
together, had managed to overcome the events of her sixteenth birthday, and
there was no way in hell he'd be able to block out the sadness radiating from her
or the way her stiff shoulders moved up and down in silent sobs.
When Kathie became aware of his presence, her shoulders stiffened even
more, and slowly her head came up. Surprisingly her eyes were dry, but they
were red-rimmed and Angel could still see the traces of recent tears. He could
see from the puffiness of her skin that she'd been crying for a while, and tell
from her swollen lips that she'd chewed on them restlessly, a certain sign of
distress.
Giving her only a quick glance, Angel walked over to the refrigerator to get
himself a soft drink and popped open the can. Placing the can on the counter in
front of him, he sat down opposite his sister, and after a moment, he looked at
her. "What happened?" he asked slowly, not sure if he wanted to hear it, but
knowing he would.
She didn't say anything for a long time, then shrugged. "Wes sent me away,"
she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper, and obviously strained by hours
of crying. Angel suddenly felt like a heel. While his little sister had been crying
her eyes out he'd been making love with Buffy on her kitchen counter. And
enjoying it.
Rubbing a hand over his face, he wrapped the other around the soft drink. "He
- sent you away?" It sounded strange, somehow not at all like the Wesley he'd
come to know and like. The Wesley he knew was shy and sometimes stiff, but
Angel would bet his agency if the professor wasn't head over heels in love with
Kathie. "Why?"
She shrugged again, "He said I don't trust him. He - uh - he was smelling like
he'd been drinking, and when I asked him, he said he'd had two bottles of Scotch
last night."
To any other person hearing this, it might not mean anything, but in Angel's
head all alarm bells started to ring. Sitting up straight, his eyes became intense,
"Did he - hurt you?"
Startled by the question, Kathie's head came up with a snap. "NO," she hurried
to say. "No. Nothing like that. He - he was sober. As always. But but smelling it
" Angel saw her struggle, and saw her lose when tears welled up in her eyes.
"God, Angel. It all came back to me. Like like a horrible nightmare I couldn't get
rid off. I tried but all I saw were their faces, and their drunken laughter, and ththeir h-hands."
Her voice almost broke in the end and when the tears started to fall, Angel was
by her side in an instant. Crouching down in front of her, much in the same way
he'd done with Buffy the previous night, he took her hands, "Oh Kat," he said
softly, reaching out with one hand, cupping her cheek. "I'm so sorry."
The tears dripping from her lashes, she managed a smile, "It's not really bad,
Angel. Just when I smelled," she sighed, "that stuff on him, I I couldn't think
anything but" she shrugged in the end.
He nodded, letting his hand fall from her face, curling it around hers instead.
"So you freaked and he wanted to know why, right?"
She nodded miserably.
"And when you didn't tell him, he got angry?" He looked at her intently,
wanting to understand what had happened between his sister and Wesley.
"No," she shook her head, sent her hair flying, "Not angry. Just ... sad.
Disappointed. God, I hated to see the disappointment in his eyes. And the
weariness. I think he's fed up with me."
He almost grinned at that. Wes fed up with her? Not by a long shot. Angel had
a feeling that the professor was into this for the long haul, but now was not the
time to discuss this special subject with his sister. "That's nonsense, baby." Her
head came up again, staring at him almost in wonder. He smiled, "The guy loves
you. But I can also understand how he feels. He's in love with you, but you're
still keeping a part of you private. It's as if you're not trusting him, and in a way,
it's the truth."
"You really think?" she asked doubtfully.
"Oh yeah," he nodded, kissing her cheek and standing up to walk back to his
place. Reaching for his drink, he took a long gulp, before facing her again. "I
know it, Kat. Because that's the way I felt with Buffy. She always kept
something hidden from me, didn't open up." He couldn't stop the smile blooming
at his next words, "Until last night, that is."
"I thought you were with her when I found the message on the answering
machine," she said. "So, she opened up to you. And then?"
"A gentleman never tells," he replied, grinning.
She rolled her eyes, "Gee, as if I even want to know. Knowing your brother has
sex is almost as bad as thinking that way about your parents." A shadow
flickered through her eyes, before she added, "At least that's what I've been
told." She sighed, "So you had a good - night?"
"The best," he told her. "She's amazing. She's the one, Kat. The one I've been
waiting for."
She smiled, "You're in love with her."
"Totally and completely. Irrevocably." He knew he was grinning like an idiot,
but who the hell cared. He was flying high this morning. So high not even his
sisters problems had managed to dampen his good mood. Angel still wasn't quite
sure he liked the fact that Buffy had stacked several one-time-use razors. Sure, it
could be she needed them for herself, but somehow Angel couldn't quite make
himself believe it. And, so he thought on an inward sigh, looking at the redrimmed eyes of his sister, was it really important? He and Buffy had, at least,
crossed the bridge Kathie and Wes still seemed to have in front of them.
"I'm glad," Kathie said honestly, "I wish" she trailed off, and sighed again.
Angel put the soft drink down, and walked back to his sister. "You need to talk
to him, baby. If he's really important to you, you need to tell him. I know it's
hard, but he needs to know, because only then can he understand."
He saw her swallow, saw her run a shaky hand through her hair, "I suppose
you're right. It's just so hard. Talking about it, it's like living through it again."
He reached out, and taking her hand, he pulled her up, wrapping her up in a
brotherly embrace, "I know, Kat. I know. But without it, this won't work."
Kathie let herself sink into his embrace, letting his strong, familiar arms
surround her with gentleness and the safe feeling of protection. Angel had never
let her down, had always stood by her, even when things were really rough. But
he was her brother, while Wes, Wes was the man she loved. Deeply and honestly.
Maybe not with the same passion Angel had for Buffy, but then, she wasn't
Angel. Had never been. Her past had shaped her, had made her into the woman
she was today. Her experiences were not the same her brother had had. But he
was right. She had to tell Wes. But before she could do that, she had to open up
to her brother as well, had to tell him the whole truth, the one she'd carried deep
inside of her, afraid he might freak and do something stupid.
Not anymore, though. He wasn't the eighteen year old, impulsive teenager
anymore. He was twenty-six, almost twenty-seven, and the most responsible
person she'd ever known. He could face the truth. She'd faced it, too. Had carried
it inside of her, until she'd sometimes thought it would strangle her.
Slowly she pulled back from his embrace and the moment their eyes locked,
she took a deep breath, "Angel, there is something I have to tell you. And you're
not going to like it."
Part 22
"Jeez, it's raining cats and dogs out here, so move and let me in where it's
warm and comfy."
Buffy stepped back from her door, staring disbelievingly at her co-worker and
friend, Cordelia Chase. She looked more like a drowned rat than the usually
stylish woman the blond saw every day at work, as she quickly entered Buffy's
apartment close to dinnertime. "Cordelia?" she asked, still not believing her
eyes.
The brunette turned, and pulled off her drenched coat. "Well, it's a relief you
still recognize me. Maybe the damage isn't too bad."
"Damage?" Buffy echoed, trying to get her thoughts back on track. She'd been
lost in daydreams for the better part of the day, most of them containing Angel,
and not a lot of clothes, so it was hard to concentrate on her friend who was
looking at her expectantly.
"Duh," Cordelia exclaimed, patting her hair, "Claudio spent ages to get it done,
and I'm afraid it's all ruined now."
"Uh," for the first time Buffy really looked at the woman in front of her, and
her eyes almost bulged out of her face, "You've cut your hair," she stated in
disbelief. "And you're blond!" And indeed Cordelia had suddenly turned blonde.
Not, Buffy thought, that it looked bad. Because it actually looked nice, but
somehow it was ... wrong. Yes, that was the only word she could think of. She,
Buffy, was blond. Cordelia was brunette. She frowned, not quite sure she could
follow her own thoughts today. It was all Angel's fault anyway. He had turned
her into someone she barely recognized anymore. Gone was rational, always
cool Buffy Summers, and she was replaced by a love-crazed woman, who didn't
seem to be able to go a few hours without her lover.
"Do you like it?" the former brunette asked, turning around in front of the real
blonde.
"Uhm yeah, nice," Buffy replied, finally managing to close the door. "What
brought that on?"
Cordelia gave her a look, then sighed, "Would you believe if I told you I was
in love?"
Dumbfounded Buffy stared at her. Cordelia? In love? Something earth
shattering must have happened. As long as shed known the former brunette,
Cordelia had had lovers. But never, not once had she been in love. Not the kind
of love Buffy now knew existed, not the kind of love she was suddenly
recognizing in her friend's eyes.
Slowly, Buffy nodded, "Yeah, actually I can believe it."
A still brunette brow came up, "You can? Does that mean you and your
hunkfinally got it done?"
Feeling a blush creeping up her cheeks, Buffy quickly turned away, and
walked towards the kitchen, knowing her friend would follow her. "Do you want
a cup of coffee? I just made some fresh."
"You look different," Cordelia said when sat down on one of the chairs.
"Lighter somehow." She grinned, "No need to tell me, I'm already seeing it
crystal clear. You and Liam, huh?"
Closing her eyes for a moment, Buffy took a deep breath before she turned
with a filled cup in her hand. "Did anyone ever tell you that being nosy isn't
always welcomed?" Not that she didn't want to talk about Angel. Actually, she
wanted to shout it from the roof, but she wasn't so certain she wanted to discuss
this with Cordelia. True, her friend had seemed supportive, had even urged her
towards an affair with Angel, but that didn't mean she'd be thrilled hearing her
boss had helplessly fallen for the "hunk".
A brilliant smile was her answer, "Yeah. Many times. Never bothered me."
Cordelia took the cup from Buffy, sipping carefully. "And is he any good? I
mean, he sure does look promising, but a lovely package can be deceiving. Just
because he looks like a hunk, it doesn't mean he can get the job done, so to
speak."
Buffy couldn't help it, she burst out laughing. "Honestly, Cordy, is there
anything else you can think about? But to answer your question, yeah we uh,are
together."
The smile turned even more brilliant, "That's great. Wonderful. For a while I
was afraid you'd get stuck on that loser Riley."
Feeling she needed to come to her ex-boyfriend's rescue, Buffy shook her
head, "Riley isn't a loser. He's nice. An okay guy, and he'll be a nice girl's dream.
He just isn't for me."
"Pah," Cordelia made a sweeping gesture with her hand, "Tell me what you
want. For me he's still going to be the loser he is. I've never met anyone more
boring. At least he seems to have satisfied you, I have to give him that, even
though I'm still at a loss how he did it."
"Oh, I don't know about that." The words were out before Buffy could stop
them, and she turned beet red the moment she realized what she'd just said.
"Uhm I mean-"
"I know what you mean," Cordy grinned knowingly. "So Liam is a hunk inside
and out. Good to know. You need someone like him. You'll see, passion is the
word."
Uh-oh, Buffy thought. Passion. Sure, there was passion. Raw, hot, allconsuming. There was lust. Need. Hunger. But there was also this little part
where she loved Angel. With all her heart. She still hadn't said the words yet, but
it didn't really matter. What mattered was that she knew. And she was sure Angel
knew as well. How could he be so close to her and not know that she loved him,
in a way she hadn't even known love could exist. "Yeah," she said finally,
realizing that Cordelia was waiting for her to say something, "There is passion.
Definitely passion."
"Perfect," Cordy sipped from her coffee, her gaze turning thoughtful, "Did he
stay here last night? Because you look exactly like a woman whose been loved
thoroughly. Nobody can fake those bedroom eyes.
Buffy gulped. "Bedroom eyes?"
"Uh-huh," the former brunette nodded, "Take it from a pro. You've got them.
But that's a good thing. I'm glad you finally found a good lover. Women need
that. Even though most would deny it if asked."
Realizing that Cordelia still thought Angel was nothing but a pastime for
Buffy, just a lover like Cordy had had several of, the blond felt inclined to clear
up that point. "Cordy," she began, "Liam isn't just a lover."
A brow came up, "He's not?"
"Well, he is," Buffy amended, "but I - he's more. It's I -"
The cup met the table with a thump, while Cordelia's eyes widened in
disbelief, "You're in love with him?"
Crossing her arms defensively in front of her chest, Buffy raised her chin,
"Yes, I am," she replied firmly. "Very much actually."
"But," Cordelia gestured wildly, "But but he's young. A lot younger."
Huh? Had she missed something? Was this the same Cordelia who had
encouraged her to have an affair? But as she'd thought already, an affair and love
were two entirely different things for her friend. "You said yourself-", she tried
to defend herself, but was interrupted instantly.
"When I was telling you to take him as a lover, I thought as a lover. Not to fall
in love with him."
"Well, tough," Buffy shot back. "Because I am in love with him. And it's not
really any of your business. I don't need to justify our love."
Cordelia held up both hands, "Hey, no need to get angry. I'm just surprised, I
guess. That's not like you. I mean, you never ever did something spontaneous
since I've known you."
Somewhat mollified, the blond took her own mug and settled into the chair
across the table. "Things change." She laughed at the words, hardly able to
believe how tame they sounded, yet they stood for a complete turn around in her
life. "I love him, Cordy," she repeated, "It's amazing and frightening at the same
time. But it's still the same. I love him."
"Tell me about it," the former brunette gave her friend a long last look before
lifting her cup again. "And besides. People in glass houses shouldn't throw
stones, if you get my drift." She sipped, "Believe it or not, but, I, uh Do you
remember Gunn? The guy who came with Liam that first night?"
Buffy nodded, "Sure I do."
Cordelia snorted slightly, "Which is indeed a miracle, remembering how you
had eyes for Liam only."
The blonde's brows rose, "And I wasn't the only one."
Rolling her eyes, her friend let out a long breath, "Okay, okay, I thought he was
a hunk, and he still is. I do tend to get caught up in the moment sometimes," she
caught Buffy's grin and threw her hands in the air. "Alright, I get caught up every
time. But this," she became serious all of a sudden, "this is serious. It's like
nothing that ever happened to me before. It's like - WHAM - struck by lightning.
Buffy," she sighed dramatically, "I'm a goner. I'm so in love with this guy. And
that after I thought myself immune."
"Wait," Buffy held up a hand, "let me get this. You're in love with - Gunn?"
"That's what I've been talking about for the last, ah, half an hour."
Buffy didn't want to point out that the better part of that half hour had been
spent talking about her and Angel, Instead she smiled. "Well, it's great."
Cordelia snorted again, "That's what you think. Don't get me wrong. Gunn's a
great guy, but he's a street kid, with absolutely no manners, no tact - and okay, I
was never accused of having too much tact myself, but still. But the worst of
all," Cordy stopped and to her utter surprise, Buffy saw tears well up in the
brunette's eyes, before she continued, "The worst part is. I dont think he loves
me back."
Buffy was about to answer, when the doorbell suddenly rang.
*****
Kathie bit her lower lip, her trembling hand hovering over the doorbell at
Wesley's home. She'd been standing here for almost an hour, not certain what to
do, and even less what to say the moment the door opened. Leaning her head
against it, Kathie took a deep, shuddering breath, but it didn't help to steady her.
She still remembered the anguish in Angel's eyes when she'd told him. He hadn't
doubted her for a moment, believed every word she was saying, had held her
while she cried, had kissed her before leaving the house, a painfully vacant
expression in his eyes.
Kathie knew she'd hurt him with her story, had taken the remaining bits of
innocence, had destroyed all happiness he'd been carrying around today like a
beacon. But she also knew he was right when he told her that only the whole
truth could bring healing and, in the end, let her move on. She'd carried it around
for too long already. It was time to tell her story and that meant not only Wesley,
the man she loved, but also Angel, the brother who'd stood by her through
everything.
He would get over it, Kathie knew that without doubt, but he had to work
through it, the way she'd had to. And maybe, after everything was out in the
open now, they would finally learn to live the life of normal people, not scarred
by the past, not always doubting themselves, not trying to be careful all the time.
Maybe now she could finally love.
Taking another deep breath, she pressed the doorbell, her heart starting to
hammer in her chest when she heard footsteps from the inside. The next moment
the door was pulled open, revealing Wesley, rumpled and tired, the weariness
increasing the moment he recognized her.
"Kathie?"
His voice was rough, and although he certainly hadn't tried to sound sexy it
still sent ripples over her skin. She licked her suddenly dry lips, "Hi, Wes."
He looked at her long and hard, before he asked, "What do you want?"
Steadying herself by breathing deeply a third time, she tried to summon a
smile, but her lips wouldn't obey. "I I want to talk to you," she said finally.
"Talk?" His brow came up. He seemed distant, but the sudden light in his eyes
made it possible for Kathie to hope. "About what?"
"Would you let me come in?" She bit her lower lip, entwining her hands
tightly.
Whatever she had done, something suddenly shifted in his eyes, turning them
warm and loving. Had he seen her intention already? God, she hoped he had.
"Wes?" she asked.
Shaking his head slightly, he looked at her. "Will you tell me then?"
She swallowed, "Yes."
Another long and steady look, then slowly, he stepped back, opening his house
to her. "Then," he smiled, "you're very welcome."
*****
She couldn't believe her eyes, finding Angel standing in front of her door, but
before Buffy could even say a word, Cordelia appeared beside her. "Hey, Liam,"
she greeted, then frowned when there was no reaction from him. "Hey," she
waved a hand in front of his face. "What's your deal?"
"Angel?" Buffy spoke the word slowly, not sure how to approach him. He
looked like she'd never seen him before. His gaze was unfocused, he was
drenched in rain and sweat, his hair standing up in every direction as if he'd run
his fingers through it more than once. His clothes were disheveled, his shoes
muddy and wet, as was the rest of the man. But the worst were his eyes. She had
seen them angry, happy, glazed with passion, wild with need, but she'd never
seen such desolation in them, such pain and fury, and, she realized, the fury was
directed inward. At himself.
"Angel?" she said his name again, tentatively reaching out and touching his
arm, not caring when he flinched at the touch. She knew it had nothing to do
with her touch, but with the way he wasn't really himself right now. "Why don't
you come in?" she invited softly, and pulling slightly at his sleeve she became
even more concerned when he followed without resistance. "We have to get you
out of your clothes. They're dripping wet."
"And that's my cue to go," came Cordelia's voice from behind them.
Buffy looked up, giving her friend an apologetic smile, "I am sorry. I know this
is important to you, but-" She shrugged, nodding towards Angel's shaking form,
sitting lifeless on one of the chairs in her hallway.
"Hey, no worries. I can recognize an emergency." Cordelia grabbed her coat,
making a sound of disgust when she realized it was still wet, then, shrugging,
she pulled it on. "See you Monday," she waved, " and then I want to know why
you call him Angel." With that she was gone, leaving Buffy with a small grin on
her face that vanished instantly when she looked at Angel who still hadn't moved
an inch. His hair and clothes were dripping on her carpet, while he was still
staring blankly at his hands that were hanging loosely between his thighs.
With greatest care, as if handling a raw egg, Buffy put a hand on his shoulder.
"Angel, you need to get out of your clothes," she repeated her words from
before. She sighed when there was again no reaction. He was too heavy to just
drag him towards her bathroom, but she couldn't leave him like this either.
Somehow she had to get his attention, had to break through this wall of silence
he was wearing like a shield right now. At least he'd come to her, she thought,
hoping that meant he trusted her the way she trusted him.
She was about to talk to him again, when suddenly he started to speak. The
words came slowly, as if torn painfully from his soul, his gaze still firmly
focused on the floor. "I walked," he began, his voice rough, almost raw, "I I don't
know how long. I lost track of time."
Buffy kneeled down before him, eager to look at him, to make him look at her.
"That's okay," she whispered, cupping one cheek with her hand, horrified when
the skin of his face was clammy and cold, the lips already turning blue. "Angel,
please. You need to change your clothes. You're getting sick."
He laughed at that, hollowly, a sound that made Buffy's heart ache. "Doesn't
matter," he murmured. "Nothing matters. Absolutely nothing."
"You're wrong," she said urgently, framing his face in her hands, "So wrong. A
lot matters. We matter. Our love for each other."
His eyes flickered to hers, and for a moment the old warmth was back, and a
glimpse of hope, but they were instantly gone, once again replaced by pain and
hopelessness. "Does it?" he asked. "Really?"
Growing more and more concerned with his unfamiliar behavior, Buffy kissed
his ice-cold lips, then forced him to look at her. "Angel, listen to me. We're
together now. There's nothing we can't do. Nothing we can't conquer. But first
you have to tell me what happened?" She grabbed the first thing that came into
her mind, "Did something happen to Kathie?"
He erupted almost violently at the mention of his sister's name, coming out of
the chair, not caring that Buffy was pushed backward. He walked towards the
door, his hand reaching for the handle, then fell down to the floor. His shoulders
slumped, he stayed that way, didn't turn, didn't look at her. "I I don't know if I
can do this," he whispered finally. "I God, Buffy. I don't know if I can live with
this."
She was behind him in an instant, slinging her arms around his waist, holding
him, pressing herself close as much as she could, not caring that his soaked
clothes were now soaking hers, only wanting to give him warmth. To give him
love. "You can," she said firmly. "We can. Please, Angel, tell me."
She felt him shudder in her arms, and knew it had nothing to do with him
being cold from the rain, before his hands came up to cover hers that were still
resting on his stomach. "I'm so glad you're here," he whispered. "So glad."
"Me too," she replied. "And I will not go away."
He laughed again, harshly, unhappily, "Dont be so sure. Maybe you will as
soon as you know that my father raped my sister and I did nothing to prevent it."
Go to Part 23
Blissful Encounter
Part 23
Angel didn't know what he had expected to happen after the words, torn from
his very soul, had tumbled from his lips. He wouldnt have been surprised if she
stepped back, stunned and shocked, and looked at him with disgust and horror or if she screamed and told him to get out. But as she'd done before, she
surprised him completely by tightening her arms around him, pressing herself
even closer to his back, the warmth of her body penetrating the chill he was
feeling in and out, bringing him back to life where he'd thought himself dead just
moments ago.
Hearing his sister telling him about their father had been a torture he'd never
experienced before. He thought after living through the night of her sixteenth
birthday, nothing could shock him. He'd been wrong. God, he'd been so wrong.
And he'd been ignorant and stupid not to see what had happened right before his
eyes.
"He...he raped your sister?"
Angel heard Buffy's whispered question, her voice soft, full of love and
understanding, but each word felt like a blow to his midsection, even though he
knew it wasn't meant that way. How could Buffy do it, he wondered, how could
she touch him, feel him, when he wanted to shed his skin to get rid of the guilt
and self-disgust that was threatening to consume him. "Yes," he replied, his
voice barely recognizable, even to him. "He raped her ... abused her ... for years.
It started when she was eight, and went on until he married our stepmother." He
felt his body tighten, took a deep breath, trying to control the fury rising in him.
"It went on for years, and I never knew."
"You were a little boy yourself, Angel. Barely older than Kathie. How were
you supposed to know?"
"I don't know," he exclaimed, freeing himself from her arms, not able to stand
her touching him any longer. She was too good, too true to be tainted by him. He
was not worth being touched by her. "But I should have," he insisted. "I was
closer to her than anyone-," he stopped, laughed harshly, the sound filled with
self-loathing, "Or so I thought. Now I find out that there was someone much
closer."
"Angel, no," Buffy shook her head, horrified by the way he was accusing
himself, the way he had pushed her away. "It was your father who raped her. A
grown man. You were only ten when it started."
"But don't you see," he cried, whirling around, facing her with those pain-filled
eyes, eyes that only hours ago had been filled with passion and laughter. "I was
the only one she had. I was her brother. I was supposed to take care of her. There
was no one else."
God, how she wished she could turn back time, could return that easy look to
his eyes, but of course it wasn't going to happen. Life couldn't be turned back,
and the terrible truth about Kathie would have come out sooner or later. At least
now she was there, could be there for him. And she would, Buffy vowed to
herself, stepping closer to Angel. She would help him through this, the way he'd
helped her through her own nightmares. "And what," she asked slowly, "would
you have done? You, a ten year old boy, against a grown up man."
"I could have..." he started, then stopped, lifting his shoulders in a helpless
gesture, "maybe informed the authorities, I don't know."
"No, you don't, do you?" she said softly, slowly, tentatively putting a hand on
his arm that had started to tremble. Whether from the cold or the emotional
turmoil, she couldn't be sure. But right now it didn't really matter. He might
wake up with a cold tomorrow, but that was nothing compared to the pain he was
going through right now. "So if you still don't know how to handle such a
problem, what would you have done sixteen years ago? Listen to me, Angel.
There is nothing you could have done. It's your father who is responsible,
nobody else."
"She didn't tell me because she though it was her fault," Angel said, looking
past her at nothing. She realized he hadn't even listened to her words. "Because
she thought I'd be angry." He took a ragged breath, "Her fault. God, she was
barely more than a baby. And then, after my father stopped, after she was pulling
herself together, three of Parker's drunken friends tried to rape her on her
sixteenth birthday. No wonder, she almost slipped away after that."
Buffy flinched at the mention of Parker Abrams, but pulled herself together
quickly, "Three of Parker's friends?"
He nodded, "Yeah. They were celebrating at our home. Kathie came home
from a party two girlfriends had thrown for her, she'd just come out of her shell
again." He shook his head, half in disbelief, half in anger, "She was such a happy
kid, and suddenly she became quiet, and I never even guessed." He turned away
again, pounding a fist against the wall, making Buffy wince. "God, I was so
stupid."
Not quite sure what to say, she thought that making him talk might be the best
thing, so she asked, "So she came from the party?"
Buffy saw him shudder, realized he was pulling himself together with great
difficulty. "She was late. Her luck was they were stone drunk, too far gone to do
any real damage, but with her history it was still enough to almost drive her over
the edge. When I found her that night, she was barely speaking, just kept
repeating the word 'no'. She wouldn't let me touch her. If was a few hours before
she even let me take her in my arms."
He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, remembering finding his sister,
her clothes torn, her eyes vacant and unfocused, her lip bloody, screaming when
he tried to get close. "I had just turned eighteen a month before and had decided
it was time to move out. I wanted to take her with me, but my father resisted."
He laughed harshly, "You have three guesses why. She didn't want to stay, but
never told me why. Of course I didn't ask either. I was too busy ignoring what
was right in front of me." Breathing deeply again, he continued, "Anyways.
Finally she told me what happened that night and I told my father. He wanted to
avoid bringing the police into it, because one of Parker's friends was the mayor's
son. So I blackmailed him. I promised to keep quiet if he let her go with me."
"And he agreed." It wasn't a question. Buffy knew Angel's father had agreed.
After all she knew about the man by now, she also guessed he didn't care enough
for his daughter to do anything else.
"Yes," he confirmed. "Grudgingly at first, but he did. So that night, after I had
a fall out with Parker because he didn't keep his buddies in check, we packed
Kathie's stuff, and never went home again. Kat had a hard time dealing with
what I thought was that particular night. I didn't have a clue that ...it had brought
back memories that were a lot worse."
He was shaking like a leaf by now, but he didn't care. He felt cold inside in a
way he never had before, so what did it matter that his wet clothes only added a
coldness to the outside? He realized that Buffy was still standing close to him,
but he didn't dare look at her. He couldn't take her love or her compassion right
now. He didn't deserve it, couldn't accept it. Not when he'd failed as a brother in
a way he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to forgive. Why on earth had he come
here in the first place?
Turning around, but carefully avoiding her gaze, Angel straightened. "I need to
go," he announced, moving towards the door, then stopped when she stepped in
his way.
"No way," she said firmly, touching his arm. "You're not leaving. Or if you do,
I'm coming with you. I'm not going to let you go like this."
"You can't stop me," he warned, hardening himself against the concern he
heard in her voice. "Do you really think you can stop me?"
"Yes, I think I can," she told him gently. "You wouldn't hurt me, and that
would be the only way to get through me now."
Anger flared, unfocused, hot, untamed. It was a lot better than the other
feelings that were tearing him apart, so he welcomed it, and used it to steel
himself when he finally looked down at her. "Don't be so sure," he warned again,
"My opinion of myself isn't all to high right now. I'm not sure it would matter
anymore if I had another bit of guilt on my conscience."
"That's nonsense, Angel," she replied, not backing away an inch. "You love
me. I didn't want to hear it. I didn't want to deal with it. But I know it now. You
couldn't hurt a person you love."
"Oh, really?" he said bitingly. "Maybe you should just ask Kathie, she might
tell you otherwise."
"I'm sure she doesn't blame you," Buffy told him, wanting to touch him. But
she knew she couldn't, knew he wouldn't be able to stand it.
"No, she doesn't," he admitted, remembering his sister's words, before he'd left
the house. ((**It's not your fault, Angel.**)) "But she should," he insisted. "I am
responsible, even though I never laid a finger on her. But standing by and letting
it happen is almost as bad."
"But you didn't know!" Buffy cried, desperately trying to make him
understand. "And again. You were only ten. A little boy. Your father abused your
sister. He was the adult. Not you. Not you." She repeated the last words for
emphasis, but had a feeling they bounced off him without changing a thing.
Instead of listening to her, he was getting worse. He was building walls around
himself, was trying to push her away. Well, she wouldn't let him. Not when
they'd just managed to get past her ghosts. Not when she'd finally accepted that
she loved him.
"I love you," she said suddenly, firmly. "I didn't tell you before, because ...
because, I don't know why," she said finally, "But it doesn't matter. You made it
possible. You made me love you, Angel. With your laughter, your gentleness,
your love, your passion. I'm in love with you, and it's something I never
expected to happen. I don't even care anymore that you're younger. It doesn't
matter." Now she grabbed his arms, forcing him to stop ignoring her, "Are you
listening to me? You made me love you. You cant do that, and then turn away
again. Do you hear me? I won't let you do this!"
In the end she was hitting his chest with her fists, not even realizing what she
was doing. The fear of losing him was too great to just let him retreat into a
shell. "I love you dammit," she shouted, "I love you. Doesn't that mean anything
for you?"
Angel stared down at her, saw her scream, saw her shout, felt the blows on his
chest, and something inside of him opened and refused to close up again. He
loved this woman. Loved her in a way that was far beyond anything he'd ever
expected. He loved her. And more amazingly, she loved him. And she was
fighting for him now, fighting for the man she loved.
The groan started deep in his chest, then broke out through his lips, bringing
her name with it, hardly recognizable, but it made her stop and look up at him
with tear filled eyes. "Buffy."
"I am sorry," she cried, "Sorry for what happened to Kathie. Sorry you couldn't
help her. But I won't allow you to destroy what we have. Let me help you,
Angel, please don't pull away from me. This is what love is about. And I love
you."
He felt his own eyes tear, felt a sob rise, and then, almost overwhelmed by his
feelings for her, he closed his arms around her, pulling her close, holding on to
her like his life depended on it. "I love you," he whispered. "And I need you.
God, I need you so. This hurts. Oh God, Buffy, this hurts."
They sank on the floor, holding onto each other, and although Buffy realized
she was crying, she knew that the tears weren't just sad ones. Because this time
she was the one to help, this time Angel was the one who had to trust her,
believe in her, rely on her. It wasn't just her taking and him giving. No, now they
were equal partners.
*****
Wesley was holding her in the loose embrace of his right arm, while the fingers
of his left hand were combing through the dark waves of her hair. He tried his
best to suppress the violent shudder that was quivering in his inner core. The
rage like nothing he'd ever known before was almost consuming him.
"My father," he began quietly, keeping his fingers running through her hair,
hoping it would eventually calm him the way it seemed to calm her, "used to
beat me into submission when I was still a boy. And when I still wouldn't back
down, he simply locked me into a closet in our hallway, only letting me out
when I begged for forgiveness."
He heard the soft gasp, before Kathie turned in his embrace, shifting on the
sofa they were both sitting on, so she could look at him. He was once again
amazed by the wealth of compassion he saw in her eyes. How, he wondered,
could someone who'd suffered so much, still feel the pain of others the way she
did?
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"God," he exclaimed violently, then took a deep breath when he caught her
startled gaze. The last thing he wanted was to scare her. He was still hardly able
to believe that she was permitting him to touch her, even kiss her. "I am sorry,"
he apologized. "I didn't tell you this, so you'd feel sorry for me."
"I know," she smiled, reaching out to touch his cheek. Her eyes, like those of
her brother, mature beyond her years, were full of love and understanding. "But
I'm still sorry. No child should have to live through such a thing. When..." she
faltered for a moment, then cleared her throat, "my father started ...showing
interest, I, I thought it was me, that I did something that made him...Because,
you know, it hurt. The first time-"
This time Wesley wasn't able to just sit and listen. He let go of her, surging up
from the sofa in one violent motion. Ramming his hands through his hair, he
took three angry paces towards the door, then stopped, "God, I can't even believe
I'm thinking this, but I'm sorry the bastard is dead. I really am. I want to stand in
front of him, and then put my hands around his throat, and watch while the life
slowly slips out of his body." Still staring at the door, he shook his head, "And I
thought I wasn't a violent person."
"It wouldn't be worth it," Kathie said softly.
"Yes, it would," he said bitingly, clenching his hands into fists, desperately
trying to cling to the rest of his sanity. "Believe me, it definitely would."
"I should have phrased it differently," she replied. "*He* wouldn't have been
worth it. And because I knew it I didn't tell Angel, because I didn't want it to
happen. Angel might not have killed him, but he ... might have hurt him and I
didn't want him to end up in jail. Not for ... him." She paused, sighed softly, "In
the end he died a very painful death from the cancer that was eating up his
stomach. Maybe that was his final punishment."
And he left the house and all his money to his wife and her son, not to his
natural children, Wesley thought. Kathie had told him that at the beginning of
their relationship. Wesley had thought the man was scum then, he knew he was
the lowest kind of bastard now.
"I..." her voice was - again - very soft, "I love you, Wes. It's something I never
expected to happen. But I, I would understand if..." He turned slowly and saw
her frown, her eyes uncertain as she started gnawing her lip. "I mean," she
shrugged, looking at him a bit sheepishly, "I'm not sure I can stand a man
touching me."
"Kathie-"
"No," she held up a hand, "I, I want you to know this. I want you to know what
you're getting into, before-"
"Kathie," now he was interrupting her, but he didn't care. He couldn't let her go
on like this. "I'm not sure what I did to deserve you," he told her, smiling slowly,
"and I might be an idiot sometimes, but don't think I'm going to let you go. I can
recognize a real treasure when I see one. I know there are no guarantees, Kathie.
But I'm willing to risk it. You're worth it."
He saw her lips twitch, but she didn't smile yet. "Wes, I-"
"I love you," he said, approaching the sofa, his eyes never leaving hers. "And
I'm not such a prize myself. I mean I'm some years old than you, and I might be
unemployed very soon with this accusation hanging over my head. I know your
brother is trying to help, but he might not be able to. So," he sat down, taking her
hand, and grinned, "Don't you think we're a match made in heaven?"
At that she suddenly started to laugh, and a moment later, without warning,
threw her arms around his neck, "If you put it that way," she said, "How can I do
anything but agree?"
*****
"I need-" Angel started, but was interrupted instantly by two soft fingers
pressed against his lips.
"You need to do nothing," Buffy said softly, but firmly, pressing his bare
shoulders against the pillow. She'd finally managed to get him out of his clothes,
although the situation hadn't been at all like the one she'd pictured ever since
he'd left her apartment that morning. Afterwards she'd pushed him under the hot
shower, not caring that her own clothes got soaked in the process, only glad he
was finally getting warm again. And then, not giving him room for any
discussion, she'd pulled him into her bedroom and into her bed.
Thats where he was right now, clad only in a pair of boxer shorts, the lone
piece of his clothing that had miraculously stayed dry. Under different
circumstances, it would have been highly erotic, but right now, Buffy was only
relieved he didnt look as if he might collapse at any moment anymore. Or die
from pneumonia. Or both.
"I need to call Kathie," he insisted, trying to sit up again.
"No," Buffy told him, shaking her head, "she already called. While you were in
bathroom, getting dry. Shes with Wesley." She once again put two fingers over
his mouth when he was about to protest. "She is fine, Angel. Wesley will take
care of her. She told him everything. There is nothing you can do. Not tonight."
"I love you," he murmured around her fingers.
"I love you, too," she replied, kissing him quickly, softly. "I want you to sleep
now."
It was indication of his exhaustion that he simply nodded, not even trying to
protest again. But when she got up, he held onto her hand. "Stay?" he queried.
She reached behind her to switch off the light. Slipping under the covers,
wearing only a tee shirt and panties herself, she kissed him on the forehead.
"Always," she whispered. In response he pulled her close and sighed, and
minutes later was asleep.
This is the last part of Blissful Encounter, and yeah, I thought Id write around
26, but somehow everything just fell together, and so Im going to leave it that
way. Hope you like this last part. It wont resolve everything, but I think its just
the way it goes - in real life, too.
Part 24
//// means flashback
Kathie snuggled deeper into the soft material underneath her head, trying to
shield her ears from the noise that came floating through the air. She felt much
too comfortable like this, to give up this spot to whatever reality wanted to
intrude. Unfortunately her pillow didn't seem to have the same thoughts, and
started to shift underneath her almost the same moment. She let out a little noise
of displeasure, when her pillow suddenly chuckled.
"Hey, sleepyhead." Wesley's sleep roughened voice rumbled into her ear,
sending pleasant shivers over her skin. "Someone's at the door."
"Mmmph," she replied unintelligibly. Kathie - and no other member of the
Sullivan family for that matter - had never been a morning person, and although
she didnt have the slightest idea about what time it was, she'd bet it wasn't even
eight yet. "Too early," she mumbled.
"I know." Wesley sighed, before she felt his lips touch her forehead ever so
slightly. "And on a Sunday, at that. I wouldn't have minded staying with you like
this - uh - let's say ten or twenty years," he grinned, "but we can't just ignore the
person out there."
"Can't we?" she whined.
He chuckled again, then became serious, tilting her chin up with one crooked
index finger. "It could be your brother, darling. Didn't you tell me he was not
taking this news well, which I can't really blame him for, by the way."
She was wide-awake in an instant. "Angel," she said her brother's name, her
voice betraying the concern she felt for him. She'd seen how hard the news had
hit him, and Buffy's words on the phone hadn't helped either. The only good
thing was that he was with the woman he loved. Kathie looked up at Wesley.
Yes, she knew what love could be worth. "You are right," she gave Wesley a
quick smile, then scrambled up from the sofa they'd fallen asleep on last night,
trying to straighten her clothes, knowing it wasn't going to work anyway.
Giving up the effort, she hurried through the hallway and reached for the door
handle.
*
Faith had been standing in front of the door for the better part of the last hour,
alternately gnawing her lips, or stepping from one foot to the other, sometimes
glancing at the man in the car on the street.
When the door finally opened, her voice cracked, but she still managed to get
out, "Hey."
For a moment Kathie didn't recognize the person standing in front of Wesley's
apartment door, who was trying to smile at her from underneath her rain hat. The
heavy drops were dripping down the sides and onto her shoulders that were
covered in a well-used Barbour-coat. But when she heard the voice, the hairs in
her nape stood up straight. Her voice tight, she nodded slightly, "Faith Marshall."
The dark eyes flickered toward the ground, than back at Kathie, and Angel's
sister could almost feel how uncomfortable the other woman was. Good, she
thought, not feeling the least bit of compassion for the student who had put
Wesley through hell. Raising her chin, and quirking a brow, Kathie asked, "What
do you want?"
"I uh..." Faith looked at the young woman in the doorway, easily recognizing
her as the professor's secretary, and judging from the fact that she'd opening his
door on a Sunday morning, probably a lot more. The old Faith would have used
that knowledge to her advantage. The college didn't look fondly on professors
who became intimate with lower members of the staff, but the new Faith only
tired to clear her throat, then said, "I I know it's kind of a strange time for a visit.
And I'm," she laughed slightly, "sure I'm the last person you want to see."
"You've got that right," Kathie replied, not showing any inclination to invite
the other woman in, although the rain was pouring down on her heavily.
Well, she hadn't expected them to dance with joy at seeing her, Faith reminded
herself firmly, once again risking a glance back at the black Mustang parked in
front of the house, and the man in the driver's seat. Their eyes met for a short
moment, and the message that passed between them gave Faith the courage to go
on. "I could I, maybe, come in?"
Kathie's other brow came up as well, her whole posture that of a mother
protecting her young, or a lover her man, Faith thought with a flicker of
amusement, once again thinking of the man in the car. "You want me to invite
you in?"
"I I need to talk to Professor Wyndham-Price," Faith explained, her eyes
pleading. "It's really important."
A moment passed before Kathie shifted slightly on her feet, and after throwing
a glance over her shoulder, she looked back at Faith. "If you promise not to run
and scream sexual harassment again," she said sternly, her eyes holding a
warning that nobody in his right mind would miss.
"I promise. I didn't come to make trouble, I came to apologize," Faith replied
quickly, then released a long breath when the other woman stepped back and
allowed her to enter the house.
"Give me your coat," Kathie held out a hand, then took the jacket from Faith,
her face doubtful. "So, what brought this on?" she wanted to know.
This time a slight smile lifted the corners of Faith full lips. "Let's just say
someone made me see my errant ways," she replied cryptically, following Kathie
into the living room.
*
// With Tess gone home to her parent's farm in Oregon, Faith had expected for
her weekend to be dull and uneventful. So when someone knocked at the door of
her dorm on Saturday night, she had welcomed the distraction, only to freeze
when she came face to face with Lindsey's arrogant smile.
"Faith," he said with a slight not, pushing past her and not waiting for an
invitation.
"Hello to you, too," she replied with open sarcasm, closing the door and
leaning against it. "You look a bit worse for wear," she stated finally, noticing
with amazement his wrinkled clothes, the circles underneath his eyes, and his
hair standing up in every possible direction, as if he'd constantly run his fingers
through it. "What happened to you?"
He stopped at the wall opposite to the door and Faith could see him take a
deep breath before he turned around, facing her squarely, "You," he said finally,
once again combing his hands through his hair. "You happened to me."
A brow came up, "Excuse me? I'm a little bit confused, so could you maybe,
explain?" God, she was so beautiful, it took his breath away. For all his rational
reasoning this morning, thinking about her through the day had almost driven
him crazy. Instead of working on a case, hed sat in his apartment, staring at
nothing, picturing her face before his inner eye. Finally - and shockingly - he'd
realized what had happened. He'd fallen in love with Faith Marshall.
"Ever since I left your dorm," he began, looking at her wryly, "I've been
restless and I didn't sleep very well last night. I finally figured you out were the
problem." He shrugged out of his jacket, threw it on the bed, and slowly walked
towards her. "You are spoiled even though your parents don't really take care of
you, you use people, you're used to getting what you want, but," he stopped, so
close now she could feel his body heat, "I can't help liking you."
Too stunned to say a word, she simply stared at him.
Making a waving gesture in the air, he went on, "Oh, I've tried to talk myself
out of this, I mean, it's probably the biggest mistake Ive ever made. But here it is.
I care for you, and I don't care if telling you is the smart thing. So-," he stopped,
breathing hard, "Are you interested?"
Her mouth painfully dry, Faith licked her lips, then swallowed, desperately
trying to keep her cool, "You," she said hoarsely, care for me?"
In response Lindsey's incredibly blue eyes narrowed, "Don't get any ideas," he
warned, "I'm not going to go soft on you. You're not going to push me around.
I'm not one of the idiots you usually seem to fall for."
"N-no," she stuttered, trying to comprehend what was going on. He cared for
her? He liked her? She'd thought after their one - admittedly memorable - sexual
encounter things were over. But obviously he didn't think so. His eyes were
stormy, but this time they were still blue, not turning gray. He wasn't as angry as
he'd been in the office and the night before. No, something else flickered in the
depths, something that made her stomach do a little flip-flop.
"So," his voice turned impatient, "What do you think?"
"Uh-," What were they talking about? Oh, the caring thing. She looked at him
again, feeling weak and warm at the same time, and afraid. God, she'd never
been so scared. But she'd also never - not since Kevin - spent a night dreaming
and thinking about a man. And this one seemed as serious as they came. And
there was this little flip-flop feeling she couldn't get rid of. "Yes," she said, her
heart pounding a mile a minute. God, what had she done?
Again something flickered through his eyes, and he relaxed slightly, placing his
hands on either side of her, "There's one condition though."
Feeling all her hopes instantly shatter, all the warmth gone, Faith's gaze
hardened and her voice became sarcastic. "Oh," she lifted her chin, "I should've
known this would come with a price tag attached. What is it? Want me to talk to
Daddy, so he can-"
She couldn't finish it, because his lips covered hers without warning, effectively
cutting off whatever she'd been about to say, and leaving her breathless when he
finally lifted his mouth again. "Don't ever accuse me of something like that
again," he warned, his eyes glittering dangerously, "Your father only interests me
because he is your father, although I'm not sure he deserves the title, but that's
another problem. Not that I don't like having money, but I'm not going to play
anyone's bitch for it. And I do have problems with parents neglecting their
children."
His eyes suddenly softened, and with a one fingertip he stroked the skin of her
cheek. "No," he murmured, kissing her once again, but playfully this time, "that's
not what I meant. What I want from you is to withdraw these silly accusations
against your professor. You and I, we both know that he never touched you, never
harassed you. You don't need such nonsense to get other people's attention.
You're too smart and way too beautiful for that."
"You you think I'm beautiful?" God, was that her voice, so squeaky and
foreign? Faith felt her eyes water, and tried desperately not to cry. But nobody not even Kevin - had ever called her beautiful. And nobody had ever cared for
her the way he did. If she wasn't careful Lindsey was going to turn her into a
blubbering fool.
"Of course I think you're beautiful," he replied. "But I'm not going to say that
too often. You could use it against me." He smiled to soften his words, showing
her it wasn't serious. "So, will you do it?"//
*****
"So, the girl withdrew her accusations?" Buffy asked Angel from her spot on
his bare chest. Her eyes took in every detail of his beautiful face, the straight
nose, and his full lips that she wanted to kiss all the time, and the dark eyes,
where she had seen a myriad of emotions in the short time they knew each other.
The same eyes that looked at her now with open amazement.
"Yes," he nodded, placing the receiver back on the cradle. "Obviously someone
made her see that it was wrong." He shook his head, "I'd like to meet that person.
I don't know Faith Marshall, but I have a feeling she isn't easy to handle."
"Maybe she's in love," Buffy suggested.
"What makes you say that?" he wanted to know, watching her closely. He'd
slept fitfully at first, thrashing and turning in his sleep, waking up time and
again, sweaty and panting. But she'd been there every time, soothing him,
whispering words of comfort, or simply loving him
"Well," she smiled at him now, that smile he had come to love, the smile he
wanted to see each morning from now on. "Love can change people," she was
saying, "Nobody knows that better than I." She kissed him lightly, then looked at
him with serious eyes, "How is Kathie?"
"She," Angel once again shook his head in amazement, thinking about his
sister, her past, and his own guilty feelings that seemed so overwhelming
yesterday. Everything looked a lot better in the face of the morning, greatly
improved by Buffy, and the laughter he heard coming from Kathie. "She sounds
happy. Almost bubbly." He laughed, pulling Buffy close, "She loves him," he
stated, "And you're right. Love can change people. But it seems it also can work
miracles. Ive never heard her like this, she's the way I remember her when she
was very young. Her voice was so full of happiness."
"That's good," Buffy said softly, stroking his chest. "How do you feel about
it?"
"About Wesley and Kathie?"
Buffy nodded, breathing a kiss on the sensitive flesh between his nipples,
making him shiver. "Yeah."
He suppressed a moan at her ministrations, then concentrating on the subject,
he shrugged, slightly shifting on the bed to get more comfortable, "I'm glad. I
mean, I wasn't sure. He's fourteen years her senior, but maybe she really needs
someone like him. He isn't imposing in any way, he seems very considerate, and
I have a feeling he's got his own demons to deal with. Of course," he suddenly
grinned, "being Kathie's older brother, I don't want to think of them intimately in
any way," he sighed dramatically, "but I have to accept it."
"I'm glad you're better today," she told him, glad his eyes were soft and loving
this morning. There were still shadows in them, and some of them probably
would never go away, but at least he didn't look anymore as if his world had
ended.
"That's because of you," he replied softly, letting two fingers trail over her
cheek, then cupping it with his hand, "I don't know what I would've done
without you." He didn't even want to think about it. He'd been about to drown in
despair and guilt, and only Buffy's love had pulled him from the brink.
"I love you," she whispered, kissing him, feeling warm from his words, but
also a little scared. He put a lot of responsibility in her lap. But while she'd have
shied away from it only days ago, his love had given her the strength to deal. It
was a wonderful feeling. "I love you so very much."
"Love you back," he murmured between more kisses. Then, "You hungry?"
"Later," she said, kissing him so thoroughly, he forgot all about food, only
feeling this incredible woman, her warmth, her love, and returning her kiss with
all the love of his own
Buffy moaned and shifted so that she was lying on top of him. She could feel
his arousal, could feel herself responding. Before she opened up to him, she
looked into his eyes, almost black with passion. She hadn't told him that Parker
Abrams was the father of her lost baby. Maybe one day she would, but somehow
it wasn't important anymore. She knew Parker had already forgotten her, and his
ghost that had haunted her for so long, had been banished by love, and a pair of
brown eyes that glazed over when their bodies joined the way their souls already
had, carrying her to heaven and a future where the past couldn't hurt anymore.
The End (or maybe not)
I thought this part would be my last one --- and then my betas pointed out the
story wasnt finished somehow. So I could probably be convinced to write some
sort of sequel - to wrap things up, unwrap some secrets and stuff. But thats up to
you. So, tell me what you think! Thanks for reading to the end so far.
Send feedback to Jill
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