Whistle If You Mean It.
There was a thin vein of concrete, so small it was only noticeable as an outline of each individual tile. But the fact that it was there at all mattered. Or at least it did to him.
By itself it was only a rough raw surface, used for strength and holding other implements in place and in their own particular position. The tiles, beautiful as they were, would never stay without its presence. The unyielding dry concrete, harsh and solid, was needed. It was the glue.
Angel raised his gaze from the bathroom tiles, the mauve surface taunting him. Where the actions of his past still clung to him like filth, it was able to be washed clean of any stain, only water darkening the smooth surface and coating it with a thin layer. And in the end even that would evaporate.
Ludicrous as it sounded the man envied the earth. It’s amazing ability to act as a backdrop and still influence the millions of lives which traversed across it.
I really need to get over these floor analogies. Wrapping one white towel around his hips, the gang leader paid no mind to the pool of water he left nor the naked woman still lounging in the bathroom.
She was as useful as the tiles in his mind; breakable and weak at the worst of times and only ever able to maintain a façade of beauty.
Without him Cordelia was nothing.
Slowly water darkened the concrete, shading it like emotions too strong to ignore. Cordelia ignored the puddle and instead stared at the wall. She preferred to think of physical barriers. Besides it wouldn’t be long. LA and freedom weren’t that far away.
***
It clung to her, wrapping thin icy arms around her heart and squeezing it in desperation.
It was over.
He had left.
Sure Spike had run out to clear his thoughts and would most likely return. But in Buffy’s mind it signaled the end of them… of her life in Sunnydale. How could she ever stay in the man’s bed after the past she had revealed? Did he even really want her?
Confused and partially in shock Buffy slumped down to the floor, limbs slowly unfolding until her head was nestled against the carpet. The ceiling, high above her, remained tauntingly clean, witness to the events but not bearing a scratch. Irrationally she felt like perhaps it should. That there should be some symbol of the damage caused emotionally.
But then this was all just procrastination and that never got anyone anywhere.
Let alone me…
Fighting the desire to sink into the carpet beneath her, Buffy dragged the events of just moments before for inspection. Immediately stormy blue eyes assaulted her, twin orbs warring with desire and very real fear.
How would she ever survive giving him up?
Could she?
Unbidden his words again sounded, crashing along her skull. “I… care about you, sodding well drown in you. Not even Drusllia, who was my reason for living compares to you Buffy. In my mind, you’re the one.”
Again a chill settled along her skin, raising goose bumps and evicting a shudder.
Even while spelling out their fate, he had still given voice to his feelings. Maybe not the words she had wanted to hear. But there was something there.
And I ruined it.
Tears flowed down her cheeks, splashing onto the floor far louder now that the room was cloaked in silence. Downstairs the others would be just entering, having been held back on Angel’s command. The gang leader was just as interested as Spike had been to know what secrets she’d been hiding. However unlike Spike, Buffy doubted that the formidable brunette would feel the same amount of compassion. Nor would he dare to suggest mutiny against Masters.
Rather Angel would kill her himself or deliver her straight back to the old man. And though Buffy would be too old for some of the man’s more illicit tastes there would still be a punishment.
Buffy knew enough to be aware that Billy wouldn’t care if his new wife had whip lashes. As long as she followed his lead, the man would be happy. Women to him were simply a tool, in his quest for immortality. The only thing Billy cared about was succeeding Masters.
The thought of Billy’s pale hands grasping at her waist, forced the petite blonde forward until she was leaning against her knees. Marriage to a monster like him would change her, just as surely as Spike’s dramatic exit had left her questioning her future. It didn’t matter whether the bleached Brit would return anymore. Her fate had been chosen from the moment of conception.
She had to be returned to Masters.
Mentally ticking off what she would need, Buffy slowly rose to her feet and moved across the room, only her harsh breathing breaking the cold silence. Stay tears still escaped from watery green eyes but she managed to not break into sobs as drawer after drawer was emptied of various garments. She did not pause for any particular one, even dragging a solid black T shirt that could only be Spike’s into the recesses of her bag. His scent of cigarette smoke and whiskey still covered it, making her cringe at the scene which would erupt when he found her gone.
Spike may not love her. He probably didn’t even want her after this, but he would still take the departure as rejection.
Buffy could only see it as a rescue. There was no way that Masters would let her remain his. The money attached to her name alone was enough that only those of the inner circle would be allowed to look at it. Spike did not have enough connections yet.
A loud crash from below halted her thoughts, Buffy realising that finally the gang had returned, and with them a scared and shocked Willow. As angry and malicious as Angel could be, he would not leave the girl stranded.
Alone she could give away information to Parker. Even if the story was only of Angel and Spike’s questions it would still look bad for all of the Aurelius.
No gang was allowed to appear weak.
Zipping her heavy bag up, Buffy counted the seconds until Willow burst through the door. Only five minutes passing before the red head reached her, thin arms grabbing hold and cradling Buffy as the taller girl babbled endlessly. For the most part Buffy paid no notice. She was content to be held by another and take comfort in the fleeting embrace.
“Buffy? Are you alright?” Willow peered at her friend, taking in the tear stains and bulging bag which lay at their feet, some of its contents already threatening to burst.
“No Wills. I’m really not…”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Willow eyed the bag uncertainly as Buffy nodded in response.
“Take me to LA.”
***
He’d caught her trying to leave not twenty minutes after he arrived back at the house. Her face was still red from crying and Angel couldn’t help wonder whether Spike had decided to kick the girl out. Even if the idiot loved her that didn’t mean he wouldn’t take the lies personally. Dru had changed him.
And perhaps for the better.
Angel could tell that she expected him to stop her. Hands, clutching tightly to an enormous bag had trembled for a moment, in between shared looks of fear between Buffy and the red head. Obviously Willow had been conned into helping her leave. Angel was simply to have her out of his home. There was something too innocent in her demeanor, almost as though she had something to hide. Willow leaving would only benefit.
But Buffy…
Angel cursed himself as he remembered the phone call from Masters just minutes after he’d let the blonde speed off in some small little car. If he’d known then her importance, Buffy would have been locked in the nearest holding cell until Spike returned and only then would she be let out.
If Angel played his cards right Buffy could be his bargaining chip to power.
Instead though, she had been let go, out into a town with Parker, who would not be above using the cops to stop her from leaving if he discovered her departure.
But in the end he wasn’t all that worried.
Masters would get his hands on the girl one way or another. Spike would have to bring her to the party if she did return and the other option? Well someone would return with the living prize.
Buffy was too valuable to be lost now.
Clutching the bottle in his hand, Angel reclined back onto the bed, dark brown eyes watching as slowly Cordelia approached.
Maybe there was still a chance that he could have a Golden Girl.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Sorry for the long wait. My muse has been hiding and I needed to get a small chappie out to rejuvenate. Will have another out very very soon. Thank you to everyone for their comments.