[A/N: Remember how I said I didn’t like Xander? Well, I don’t like Angel either. I have a lot of issues (if only you guys knew) with the casting of that part. He doesn’t look like an angel at all, unless you are talking one of the lesser ones; why the writers chose to make him Irish, I’ve no idea. The actor’s lame and piss-poor attempts at an Irish accent must have made the real Englishman and the real Irishman cringe. The attempts made me cringe. The title comes from a song by Depeche Mode, Enjoy the Silence, from the album Violator (damn freakin’ fine music). Quotes are as attributed, and the disclaimers are still in full force and effect. I own nothing, not even the contents of my desk.]
Previously: Xander is on his way to get Willow. And Angel has arrived at the Magic Box and seen Buffy . . . and Spike. Immediately following the last chapter.
50. Words like violence
Memories are just where you laid them
drag the waters ‘till the depths give up their dead
what did you expect to find?
was there something you left behind?
don’t you remember anything I said
when I said
don’t fall away, and leave me to myself
don’t fall away and leave love bleeding
in my hands, in my hands again
love lies bleeding
Fuel, Hemorrhage from the album Something Like Human
There was nothing in the world that I ever wanted
more than to feel you deep in my heart
there was nothing in the world that I ever wanted
more than to never feel the breaking apart
all my pictures of you.
The Cure, Pictures of you, from the album Disintegration
The turning point in the process of growing up
is when you discover the core of strength
within you that survives all hurt.
Max Lerner, The Unfinished Country
He couldn’t be seeing what his eyes were looking at. There’s no possible way he was seeing this. This was not happening. Angel blinked, then looked at Giles, who wasn’t moving to separate the two. He blinked again hoping the vision would go away. Anya sighed a little, which drew Giles’ attention, then smiled wistfully.
Angel tried one more time. He cleared his throat and the two blondes broke apart reluctantly. Buffy’s head rested against Spike’s and even his ears didn’t hear the words murmured between the two. All he could hear was the low vibrations of Spike’s voice and Buffy’s answering murmur.
“Buffy?” He didn’t realize he’d spoken until the others looked at him.
Spike lifted his head away from Buffy’s, raising his eyes to meet Angel’s intense gaze. Neither man looked away. Anger was rolling off Angel in waves, both humans feeling it. Buffy turned around, holding onto Spike’s hand, all signs of her previous tears gone.
“Hello Angel.”
“What the hell is going on?” His tone was snappish.
“Nice to see you too.” Buffy wasn’t in the mood for this, wasn’t ready for this confrontation at all, but apparently today was full of major badness. She offered nicely, “sit down Angel.”
“I’ll stand.” He shot back, not even waiting for her to finish speaking.
“Angel please sit.” She tried again, this time sounding more weary that anything else.
“I’d rather stand.” His hands were fisted at his side, tension tightening his jaw.
“So you can be all looming guy?” Buffy paused, leaning back against Spike. “Please sit down.”
Spike kicked one of the chairs, pushing it away from the table in a belligerent invitation then dropped Buffy’s hand. “Sit you bloody great git. Do as the girl asked.”
If anything, Spike’s actions had broken the other two from their inertia. Giles turned away to go lock the front door, while Anya hurried over to the last customers. Angel, however, wasn’t impressed.
“What are you doing Spike?” He still hadn’t moved.
“Angel please just sit down.” Buffy tried one last time, almost pleading with him.
He finally looked at her, and something in her eyes pierced his anger because he sat down, after pulling out a different chair from the one Spike had kicked.
“Thank you” was all she said.
They sat in awkward silence for long minutes. Buffy was leaning against Spike, her eyes downcast, trying to avoid Angel’s pointed stare. She was very conscious of the fact there were complete strangers in the shop and her mind was desperately seeking and discarding different ways to avoid the coming confrontation. She knew there was going to be one. The moment Angel had walked in the door that had been a foregone conclusion. Why did he have to come? Why did Willow do this? What the heck am I gonna do now?
It was impossible not to feel the increasing tension in Spike’s body. He hadn’t taken a breath since she’d turned around to face Angel and she was suddenly desperate to make him understand she was scared and worried and upset and confused . . . but not about him. Shifting in her chair, her head resting against his upper arm, Buffy knew this wasn’t enough contact. Wriggling around, she nudged his arm, bumping up against his hard bicep. Her fingers reached for his under the table, squeezing hard when she found his. For long seconds he didn’t move, but when she nudged him again, Spike took the hint. He leaned back, almost lounging in the chair, his right arm circling the back of Buffy’s chair. Their left hands were melded together, Buffy clinging tightly, their legs pressed against each other from hip to knee.
Angel watched them, his expression growing more thunderous by the second. “Someone want to tell me what the hell is going on?” His tone was harsh, the words clipped and terse.
“Ease off you bloody jackass.” Spike’s voice was low and dangerous, almost growling.
“Tell . . . me . . . what . . . is . . . going . . . on.”
“Quit makin’ demands peaches.” His actions hidden by Buffy, Spike moved his right hand, sliding it under her shirt, needing to touch her skin. She relaxed against him, an unconscious sigh of relief shuddering through her. “Ask nicely an’ we might tell ya.”
Angel clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth, laying a fisted hand on the table. Buffy imperceptibly shrank back against Spike. Giles came to stand beside the pair, lending his support, his eyes boring into Angel’s.
Caving in, Angel unclenched his jaw long enough to say, “please.”
Buffy opened her mouth to start, but Giles’ voice sounded from above her, saving her the explanation.
He narrated it almost dispassionately, clinically, laying out only the bare facts. It was a marked contrast to the way they’d explained things to Wesley and those who were there for both encounters knew it.
Spike watched the imperceptible reactions displayed by Angel. Only someone who knew the vampire well would be able to see them and he’d spent nearly twenty years learning all the nuances of the Irish vampire’s moods. Angel was in a towering rage – the kind that only he used to incite – the kind that only a good bloodletting would assuage.
Who that rage was directed at was anyone’s guess.
Which was why, despite his thumb running across Buffy’s back, Spike was poised for action.
A long silence filled the shop when Giles finished.
********************************* ***************************************
Her boxes were all packed, waiting by the door for Xander to come and load them into his car. Everything she’d accumulated in two years was in those boxes. Her life encased in cardboard. Willow stood in the kitchen, waiting . . . hoping that Tara would come downstairs before she left, before it was too late.
She wanted to see her face once more, gaze into her blue eyes, hoping to find some trace of the love they’d shared still within her. But Tara wouldn’t come down, was still upstairs in Dawn’s room, secluded away from Willow.
Willow was afraid to go upstairs to confront her – afraid of the rejection she was almost certain would happen. She hadn’t . . . Dawn had ignored her, refusing to even look in her direction after all her boxes were packed and piled up beside the front door. The teenager was watching television, flipping channels, pretending she was alone.
Xander was due any minute.
And Willow couldn’t stop the tears.
******************************** ****************************************
“So Willow did all this on her own?” It wasn’t addressed to anyone in particular and Giles once again chose to answer.
“Yes. She waited until I was on my way back to England and Spike was out patrolling.”
“And Willow retrieved you from a hell dimension?” He paused, then, “that explains this,” motioning at the blond pair.
“Angel.” Buffy leaned forward, letting Spike’s hand go, dropping her hand to grasp his thigh. “Stop it.”
“Well have you got any other explanation for what you’re doing?” He got up, no longer able to keep still. “This is . . . I didn’t leave so you could fall into the arms of . . . Spike?”
“In the room.” Spike’s voice was very dangerous.
Angel tried ignoring his statement, just like he’d been ignoring Spike’s presence since he’d arrived. Pacing around, Angel turned around to face Buffy.
“What are you doing? What is this?” Angel’s voice was harsh and full of disdain.
She was very conscious of Spike beside her. His body close, his irregular breathing wafting across her shoulder. Buffy wanted to be anywhere but here, having this conversation. His hand flexed against her back then let go. She tensed, knowing Spike was about to launch into a verbal attack, trying to come up with some way to divert it.
It came from the most unlikely source.
“Why does everyone think Buffy was in a hell dimension?” Anya was shaking her head, “she was probably stuck somewhere very boring, someplace heroes go, unless it was Valhalla.”
Smiling very brightly, Anya continued, “well, she’s a hero right, the Chosen One. It just is logical for her to go to well, some sort of reward.”
Rocking forward, she smiled wider, noticing the shared looks. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
“Yes.” Buffy shook her head in disbelief that Anya, of all people, would figure out something this important on her own. “It wasn’t a hell dimension.”
Spike’s hand slid back under her shirt, his fingers splayed across her warm skin. She leaned back resting against him. Angel narrowed his eyes, watching the two of them. “So what, you came back from Valhalla and just decided to take up with William?”
He said his name with such contempt that Buffy flinched. “Stop it Angel.”
“No Buffy, I don’t get this and I’m not going to stop.” Angel was leaning on the table, looming over the blond pair.
“Get over yourself peaches, the girl obviously has.’ Spike’s posture was deceptively lazy.
Giles thought he was watching a bear trying to incite a panther into fighting over a particularly good kill, but the panther already had the prey. It was a fitting analogy, only he wasn’t entirely comfortable with thinking of Buffy as prey.
Squeezing his thigh, Buffy turned her head to share a look with Spike. Neither one spoke, just stared at each other, then Buffy leaned into him. He kissed her forehead and smiled grimly.
“Angel come with me.” Buffy got up from the table, moved purposely toward the training room, not waiting for any acknowledgment from him.
Spike watched her go, watched Angel as he stood there stunned, a knowing smirk playing across his lips. Angel whirled around, following after Buffy.
The smirk disappeared and Spike’s voice sounded softly in the air. “Bloody fucking hell.”
******************************** ******************************************
She was standing in the middle of the training room, running her hands over the pommel horse, her back to the inner doorway. He stood watching her for a moment, unsure of what was about to happen, unsure what to say. Welcome back felt really inappropriate.
“I loved you so much you know. With everything I had, everything. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t have done for you.” She paused, not looking at him. “I defied Giles, lied to him and everyone else for you – even after everything you did when you were Angelus.”
He must’ve made some noise, because she turned further away from him. “No. Its my turn to say this. Let me say this first. I loved you . . . and I thought you loved me back.”
“But . . . I don’t know anymore.” She stopped moving, ducking her head down, studying the floor. “People in love don’t make decisions alone, they don’t hide from each other. They don’t treat . . . . they don’t make the other person feel like something less than what they are.”
Angel took a step closer to her. “Buffy I didn’t . . . “
“Oh yes you did Angel. You treated me like something you needed to protect – like a possession. Like I wasn’t smart enough to make a decision without you.”
“You always made pronouncements or issued orders and expected me to just . . . go along with what you decided was best for us.”
“I made the right decisions.”
“You made easy decisions Angel. They weren’t always the right ones.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Angel wasn’t understanding her.
“It was easy to walk away. Easy to run to LA. Easy to give up being human to protect me.” This time she did look at him.
“How did you know about that? That was supposed to be erased from your memory.”
“See, making a decision you thought was best.” Pausing, she said, “I remembered a lot of things after I died. . . . and even more when I came back.”
“Buffy, it as for the best, what I did that day.”
“Keep telling yourself that. You made that decision alone, just like when you decided to spy on me one Thanksgiving.”
“Buffy, I wasn’t spying, was just trying to spare you. It was torture for me that day. I didn’t want to hurt you further by being there.”
“Another time you tried making a decision for me.” She shifted on her feet, prelude to some other movement, then thinking better of it, stood her ground.
“So you spared my feelings by hiding and stalking me? What was that? It hurt more to find out that you’d been here and didn’t want to see me.” She held up a hand to forestall his retort.
“That’s not love Angel. I’m not sure what it is, but its not love.” Buffy folded her arms across her chest, craving the comfort of Spike’s arms, but knowing she had to do this alone. “You never once asked me what I wanted, what I needed.”
“I was thinking about what was best for you.”
“You know what? Not impressed with other people thinking they know what’s best for me. Its kinda my decision to be making.”
“And that includes deciding to be with Spike?”
“Funny thing about Spike. He doesn’t decide what’s best for me, he lets me figure it out on my own.” Buffy reflected on how Spike had gotten her to change her mind about telling Giles where she’d been. “And he isn’t always happy about my decisions, but he lets me make them.”
She waved a hand, “and so not the point.”
“It is the point Buffy. You’re making a mistake. He’s not . . . what about the chip in his head? What happens when that goes haywire?” Angel couldn’t believe his ears.
“Not worried about that right now.” And she wasn’t. But she wouldn’t talk to Angel about the chip before talking to Giles or Spike. In fact, he was probably the last one she would talk to about Spike’s chip.
“This isn’t about Spike. This is about you and me, Angel.” Buffy moved a step away as Angel moved closer into the room.
“He’s a killer.”
“So are you. So am I.” Buffy stopped moving when he did.
“What we had Angel wasn’t real. Wasn’t love.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because Angel, love doesn’t go away when you don’t see the other person, it doesn’t just stop. Love doesn’t die. Love stays . . . even when you’re gone. When there’s no hope of ever seeing that other person again. Love . . takes care of the ones you care about . . the ones you left behind. Love never leaves . . . and love is there when you come back against all odds.”
There were tears in her voice, matching the ones that sprang to her eyes. Angel looked at her, trying to figure out what she was talking about.
“What we had wasn’t love. You never loved me Angel.”
“I did” he paused, “I do, Buffy, I still do.”
“No you don’t.” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, fighting off the nonexistent chill. “Tell me something Angel, would you have stayed for Dawn, to take care of her?”
“What?” He was surprised by her sudden change of subject.
“If the others hadn’t been around, if Spike hadn’t been here, would you have stayed in Sunnydale to take care of my sister after I died?”
“Buffy, I . . LA. . that’s my life. I couldn’t just abandon that.”
“Not even for my memory.” Buffy echoed Spike’s words. “No, of course you couldn’t.”
“That’s not love Angel.”
“And what, you’re telling me that because Spike had no where else to go, that’s love?” Angel almost laughed, but Buffy’s expression stopped him.
“He could have gone anywhere, he is still a master vampire of the Aurelius line.” Buffy shot back at him, anger rising in her belly.
“Spike stayed because I asked him to, the night I died. Because he loves me and Dawn. Because he doesn’t know how not to love. He stayed and took care of Dawnie and patrolled and he even took care of my friends and he hates some of them. Spike did all that because he loves me.”
The tears were openly sliding down her cheeks now, her shoulders shaking with emotion.
“It was Spike who rescued me that night – took care of me . . . “ her breath hitched, caught on a soft sob, “he’s been taking care of me since. That’s love Angel. . . “
She smiled then, like sunshine breaking through clouds, the tears drying up. Her eyes focused on something behind him and before he turned around Angel knew it was Spike.
“Go back to LA, Angel – go back to Darla.”
And he watched while Buffy crossed the room, walking toward Spike, an expression he’d never seen on her features.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I'm amazed. Truly, deeply, totally amazed. This story has won two awards at Vampire's Kiss. . . Sexiest Bite and Judge's Choice.