[Reviews - 172]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 2767 times

- Text Size +




A/N So so very sorry about the massive delay in getting this up. April fell off the world. Well actually she went on her holidays. She gave me plenty of warning but I'm a big moron and I didn't manage to get any chapters to her before she went. Anyway she turned this around as soon as she got back so enormous thanks go to her as usual.

On with the yarn. Finally

...............................

"You shouldn't be up." Her voice is full of matronly chiding as she enters the room to find him sitting on the edge of the bed, awkwardly pulling on one of the clean black t-shirts that had miraculously appeared at his bedside.

He grunts in acknowledgement of her worry but continues dressing, reaching over for the new black socks that he knows he didn't buy and trying to ignore the still painful protests of his body.

"Ah-ah." She snatches the socks from his hands and fixes him with one of her most endearingly annoyed expressions. "No socks for you, mister," she tells him with concerned authority. "You are not going anywhere."

He grabs for the socks but she snatches them away, and he finds himself groaning in pain as broken ribs and shredded flesh cry out in angry protests at the sudden movement. "Luv," he rasps, his voice still raw and malformed through his broken throat. "Buffy, please."

Her face softens at the sound of his obvious pain and her little hands find their way on to his shoulders. They are warm and caring through the thin cotton, gently encouraging him to lie back down, and he finds himself almost submitting to her gentle insistence.

"No, pet." He pushes back despite the pain it causes, and forces himself to his feet. "I gotta get moving."

"Moving? You're moving? Where are you moving? Why?" Oh, she's lovely when she's confused, with her shiny pouting lips and perplexed frown.

His lips quirk in affection and he can't help but reach out to brush the peaches and cream skin of her cheek. "I gotta get a shift on. She's got enough of a bloody start on me as it is. Can't be lounging around here." He's too distracted looking around for his boots to notice the tears that have sprung up in her eyes. Only when she makes a strange little gasping sound does he notice that she is staring at him with big wet eyes.

"You're leaving?" He isn't used to hearing her voice so very small and unsure; it takes him by surprise and he finds himself at a loss as to how to react.

"I gotta," he tells her when finally he manages to speak. "She's out there, she's alone and she's a mess and we've seen what she's capable of. Don't think it's a great idea just to let her wander the streets, do you?"

Slayer mode. It's quite a sight to behold and he doubts he'll ever truly get used to it. Doubts he'll ever stop being surprised by the way she can go from frightened girl to warrior in charge in the blink of an eye. "You're right," she tells him firmly. "I'll get Willow to do a location spell, and then we can head out with at least some idea of where to start looking." She pauses. "We'll call Faith once we know where we're going and get her to send the nearest backup team."

"Buffy." It's little more than a croak but it stops her in full stream and she looks at him expectantly. "You're not coming with me. You can't."

Her eyes widen and her patented indignation flares brightly. "Oh, I think I can." She shakes her head angrily. "Because there is no way in hell I'm letting you just walk out of here on your own in that condition."

His own irritation rises to meet hers and he closes his eyes and grits his teeth for a second. "Not your call, pet." But she'll need more than that. She's a stubborn bint and she'll need a reason; fortunately, he has several. "Besides, not like you can just take off. It might take months to find her. If she doesn't wanna be found, it could take years."

"It doesn't matter." She seems adamant in her decision. "I'm coming with you."

"Didn't you hear me, you stupid bint?" She's being ridiculous, and if he has to piss her off to make her see sense then that's fine. Not like he hasn't done it before. "It could take years. You just gonna up and leave 'Bit and the Scoobs? You gonna leave your snuggle bunny behind? Because there is no sodding way in hell I'm going anywhere with the poof."

"I heard you." She has that look in her eye, a look Red would probably call 'resolved face' or something equally idiotic. "But I don't care, I'm still coming. Besides, I'm not with Angel anymore."

That little revelation hits him just as he's about to speak, and he closes his mouth with a surprised snap. Not with Angel? What the hell is she talking about? The two of them are bloody soul mates and all that bollocks. He gave up his own soul so the two of them could be together, so there is no buggering way they aren't together now. "What?"

"Angel and I are finished," she states matter-of-factly. "So there's no reason why I can't help you."

He's still stuck on the fact that she and Angel have broken up. The conversation has its own momentum and he's carried along with it. "Yes there is. You saw how she reacted to you. She's already out of her bloody gourd and the sight of a slayer ain't exactly conducive to calmness in vampires. So, no, you can't bloody well come and why the hell are you and Angel finished?"

Suddenly all the anger is gone from the room, drained out in a sudden swirl and replaced by that question hanging expectant in the air as it waits for whatever answer it might bring. She swallows hard and the golden skin of her throat catches his eye for a moment. She's nervous—hell, scratch that, she's scared. Whatever has happened between her and Angel, she's afraid to tell him and that just doesn't make any sense.

"We're finished because…" She breaks off and her eyes fix on her hands, which play nervously with the hem of her sweet cotton flowered blouse. Then she draws in breath and he can see her gathering her courage. "We're finished because I told him…" Another pause, but this time she stamps down on the fear so hard he can virtually see her do it. "I told him I'm in love with someone else."

……………………………………………..

So there it is, the revelation of the century. Her heart is pounding in her chest like a drummer boy on speed and she can barely hear anything over the rushing in her ears.

For a moment he wears a mask of confusion, squinting at her uncomprehendingly and she finds herself at once mentally willing him to catch up and wishing she hadn't opened her big stupid mouth. Any moment now he'll realise what she's trying to say and then she'll know one way or another if he still loves her.

But he has a gift for perception equalled only by his gift for misinterpretation. She sees his mistake in every line of his body: in the stiffening of his back, the expressionless mask of indifference brought down just a moment too late to cover the hurt on his face, the overly-casual way in which he casts his eyes away from hers on the pretence of searching the bedside table for his cigarettes.

"Well," he drawls as best he can through his broken larynx, hurt and disdain resonating in his voice. "All the more reason to stay put. Get some action with your new honey." He leers unpleasantly at her and she almost rolls her eyes at his predictability. "So, who's the unlucky chap? Anyone I know?"

And this is exactly one of those moments she had thought about while she broke Angel's heart. Because right now, with his infuriating century-old inferiority complex coming out to play, she finds herself wondering if he was put on the planet specifically to be a pain in her ass. Why the hell does she always end up on the receiving end of his insecure defensive crap? Oh, that's right: because she loves him. Because even now when she'd cheerfully kick his scrawny ass into the middle of next week, she loves him. Tenderness swells in her breast at his ill-handled vulnerability, and she finds herself smiling softly through her irritation.

She takes a step towards him and he leans back to watch her with guarded curiosity. "Silly vampire," she murmurs softly as she reaches out a hand to trace the bruises line of his jaw. "It's you. Who else could it be?"

Awe. Not a word she often has call to use but it's the only word that could be used to describe his expression, or maybe "wonder" would be better. She's not sure. Giles or Willow would probably know but she's never been big with the dictionary fun. All she knows is that his eyes are telling her all she needs to know, that yes he still loves her and yes her admission has touched him deep within his heart. He still loves her, and she could cry with relief.

"Buffy?" Awed. Yes, she's definitely going to go with awed; she can hear it in the tremble of his voice. She smiles through tears she hadn't realised she was shedding and nods her confirmation. She loves him.

Then, wrong, his face contorts with angry pain and he spins away from her just as his fingers had threatened to delve into her hair. He lets out a growl and throws his hands in the air in exasperated rage. "God, Buffy, you unbelievable bitch."

"What?" This was not the reaction she had been expecting. She had steeled herself for the possibility that he no longer loved her, had pictured with fear in her heart his soft regretful expression as he shook his head and told her he was so sorry but she just wasn't the one anymore. She was not prepared for this eruption of disbelieving anger.

"You can't—you bloody well can't do this to me now." He seems almost panicked by her confession, frustrated and scared.

"I don't understand." Her voice is so small she's surprised he can even hear her.

"You can't offer me everything I ever wanted—not when you know I can't take it. You can't do that, Buffy. It's just too bloody cruel." And now his face mirrors her own pain and she realises that, yes, she does have the worst timing in the world and no, of course he can't stay, and how stupid was she to hope that he could.

"I'm sorry." She bites down on her lip in a futile attempt to stop the flow of tears that she knows are turning her face wet and blotchy.

"She's my responsibility, Buffy. My girl, my child, my bloody fault that she's the way she is." He shakes his head and looks at her with resigned, tear-filled eyes. "Thought you of all bloody people would get it. It's a question of duty."

.............................

A/N Loads of loevely reviews for the last chapter I guess everyone loved a bit of Angel dumpage ;)

Glowing praise indeed if I can warm your heart to Angel. Cheers Prophecygirl

Cheers Vamps sorry to make you feel sorry for everyone.

Hey Beth (Songgal) Softie.

Cheers Samica I was pleased with that too it was pretty real for me.

Thanks Jen. Buffy's definition of love in this chapter is of course the authors. Sometimes I want to strangle my husband then he'll rub my hair or call me little'en and I'm smitten all over again.

Cheers Cordy Kitten it was time to be honest I think

Cheers everyone. Updates soon I PROMISE xxxxx





You must login (register) to review.