Torn
//Tomorrow. Tomorrow we leave.//
Author: Leni
DISCLAIMER: Nope. Not that you'd believe me if I said otherwise...
SUMMARY: Five consecutive nights. Five nights Buffy has to meet him. Five nights Angelus has to look for her. Five nights until passion consumes them.
IMPROV #73: belief, desire, mercy, courage ***
Night One
Of course he purposely sought this.
There were millions of ways to avoid the Slayer, even in such a small town, and yet Angelus could find no better distraction than to follow the deadly girl.
Deadly girl, indeed, he thought as she fought with the big Luith. Twice as large and just as strong, the demon had no chance when Buffy managed to corner him into one of the narrow alleys. Angelus chuckled. That he had taught her. If your enemy is too big, give him little room. The smaller opponent always had the advantage when the bigger was hampered in its movements.
For a moment, Angelus decided to call it a night and go feed. He had watched his girl for hours, content that for once he could hunt alone. In one of her mood swings, Drusilla had decided to take care of her lover herself. Angelus contemplated his options, at more than midnight he still hadn't taken any blood, too busy following the Slayer's trace across the town. He had already heard the last growl from the Luith and a thud against the floor. Right now Buffy had to be considering how to hide the big body, she'd probable decide just to leave it there and pray that nobody entered the filthy alley until it was disfigured enough to pass as some 'wild animal'. Once upon a time, Angelus remembered, she'd have asked him for help to drag the lump to some crypt. But now that was not an option, and not even a Slayer could haul such a big corpse without attracting some attention.
She wouldn't be in a good mood, Angelus reckoned, Buffy always hated leaving things unfinished. If she came out of that alley and found him spying on her, she surely would be angry enough to retaliate against him. Or maybe angry enough to play his game. Was it worth the risk?
Angelus smirked.
Of course. Wasn't that the whole point of it?
Night Two.
"Are you ignoring me?" came his voice from behind her.
Buffy's back stiffened instantly. She knew exactly what Angelus was referring to.
Last night, after somehow managing to throw the huge Luith into a dumpster and conceal it as much as she could, she'd left the scene only to see Angelus calmly smoking. He'd obviously been there for long, the ashes of several cigarettes laid at his feet. Maybe he'd witnessed her entire fight with the demon. Damn bastard. Couldn't he leave her in peace for one night only? And if not, couldn't he interrupt her night when she was not feeling dead on her feet? She'd been so furious that she'd felt the need to go and slap his smug face. Ah, to see that conceited smile vanish would have been a delicious treat. But then common reason had won. What'd she win by provoking him except for another fight? With a sigh, Buffy had turned around and left him standing there. Not even looking back to make sure Angelus didn't attack.
She sighed now too, it seemed he wouldn't let the matter rest. "I try," she replied carefully.
"Maybe you should try harder," he hissed, throwing his cigarette forwards, not caring where it fell.
Buffy watched the bright orange tip pass by her and form a graceful arch before disappearing between the grass. She felt like admonishing him, then she felt like an idiot for wanting to tell Angelus about the hazards of lightened cigarettes. "Yes, I think I should." She heard his steps coming closer and forced herself not to react. "Why don't you let me be, Angel?" she whispered. "Why don't you just... leave Sunnydale. Or something. Please."
He chuckled as he recognised the plead in her voice. What did she think? That he was the same who obeyed her every word? That he'd do as she asked just because she said please? Angelus would be more than pleased to shatter this belief. "No." He advanced even more, enjoying how her back tensed against her will, how her head raised in a sharp movement trying not to turn to follow his actions. "Don't you see it, Buffy? I don't want to be anywhere but here. Anywhere but with you."
His eyes watched hungrily as she gulped, the movement drawing her attention to her bare neck.
"This town doesn't matter. Ah, Buffy, Buffy, you think I want the Hellmouth? What is a portal to Hell for someone who can bring Hell to Earth with his own hands? Tell me, sweetheart, do you really think I want to end like old Nest, obsessed with prophecies and star alignments? I don't want this boring town more than it wants me. I was the Scourge of Europe, Buffy, of Europe, why do you think I still am here?"
Buffy shook her head. But she knew the answer. Deep inside she knew that the only thing keeping Angel in Sunnydale was - as it had always been -
"You."
Her eyes closed in furious despondency. How many times had she prayed to hear that Angel needed her? Why did she had to hear it from his lips and with his voice but not with her Angel behind the words?
"Yes, that's right. Do you really want me gone? You want your mother's safety and your friends' peace of mind?" Angelus' voice lowered to a slow whisper, each word etching itself in her brain. "You know my price," he pronounced.
This time the tears fell. Buffy felt them running lightly across her cheeks, her eyes burning with the attempt to stop them, to bring them back.
There was obvious delight in his next sentence. "Yes, you do know it." He stretched his arm until his fingers could touch her back. In a delicate movement, he caressed the nape of her neck. "Come with me," he murmured temptingly as he let his thumb trace her back from one shoulderblade to the other. "I love you. I try not to bu-"
Buffy bit her lips and broke into a mad run. She needed to escape him and his words. She needed to forget how truthful Angel sounded when he invited her into his world, how he seemed to still feel something for her. But it was impossible, wasn't it? Soulless vampires didn't feel, didn't love, didn't make her feel as the only girl in the world with some well-placed words.
But that didn't stop the wind from repeating 'come with me' as her body tried to escape from the insanity he represented.
And it didn't stop the desire from running in her veins as madly as she did.
Night Three.
"I know you're here."
A chuckle came from behind the crypt at her right. But he still didn't show himself.
Buffy breathed deeply. This was crazy. She was crazy. Did she actually have the courage to do what she'd come to do? "I want you to leave. And never come back."
This time an amused laugh was heard. "Come on, girl. You surely don't believe I'll go without a good fight."
"I won't fight you."
He finally departed from the shadows. His hand was playing with a lighter as he approached her, the tiny flame illuminating his features and distorting them until she couldn't tell which face he was wearing. Angelus stepped quietly, very slowly as to not to scare her. He stopped barely half a meter in front of her, satisfied when Buffy gave a small start at his proximity. "Does this mean what I think it does?" he asked in a drawl.
Buffy nodded. "You leave. And I will go with you."
His eyebrows lifted. Not even in his wildest dreams had Angelus dared to dream of such a prompt acquiescence on Buffy's part. "Why?" he couldn't help but ask. He saw as many expressions shifted across her face. Surprise. Doubt. Fear. And finally determination. "Because I want to," was her decisive reply.
Angel's smirk lost its dangerous edge, and for a moment Buffy was reminded of her boyfriend smiling down at her just some weeks ago.
"Don't cry," he warned.
She didn't move as his hands reached for her face, but after feeling his fingertips carefully stroking her cheeks, Buffy couldn't help but move into them.
With a content smile, Angelus watched her shift into his caresses and the corners of his lips lifted even more as Buffy didn't deny him the pleasure of letting his hands go over her neck. She had her eyes closed, and Angelus remembered the first time he ever kissed her. So innocent and yet wanting to learn more about love and life. More about him. They'd scared each other that night; but now, Angelus swore, with all their secrets in the open, it'd be different. Completely so.
"Do you understand what this implies?"
Buffy started, she had never felt him come closer but, in what seemed a single second, they were only millimetres apart, with Angel's arms tight around her.
"Do you?" he asked again.
She looked into his eyes. Before she'd been able to read them but now... Now the old words had been erased and there where new ones which she only began to recognise. "Yes," she whispered, so low he wouldn't have heard it if he wasn't so close. Buffy caressed his face in the same way he'd done before. It was unfair, she knew it, that she had to be in the arms of a demon because there was no other option. Not for her dear ones and not for herself.
She was only seventeen. She was not supposed to promise her life to a vampire. It didn't matter if they had loved each other months ago. She was not supposed to know that he'd turn her, and that the only promise she -maybe- would extract from him was to do it when they were far away from Sunnydale, where she could never harm her family.
This was never what she'd desired, Buffy had never dreamt her life would meet so many obstacles. But right now, wrapped in his arms, she felt as if Angel had stopped being one of them and instead maintained her sane.
With her death another Slayer would raise. One who actually could do the Slayer's work.
"Tomorrow," she whispered against his lips. "Tomorrow we leave."
Angelus closed the gap between their lips impatiently. He had never liked to wait for what was his.
And Buffy already was.
His and only his.
Night Four
Her mother was on a business trip. Again.
Buffy carried the heavy suitcase downstairs. She had packed everything she considered essential, even after Angel had warned that in her new life those things would only be a joke to herself. Buffy had shrugged, appalled when the motion only caused the sheet to fall from her shoulders, and tried to tell him to at least wait before maintaining such an opinion. Tried. Because Angel had never let her even begin the sentence.
The doorbell rang.
Ah, Angel already. He always was early to their dates. Buffy looked around, at the house she'd called home for months. She peeked into the kitchen to make sure that her goodbye note was still in place, grabbed the suitcase and went open the door.
It was Willow.
"Willow?" she squeaked.
"Yes, Willow," the redhead chuckled. "Can I go in?" Willow saw as Buffy paled and her eyes darted wildly across the room. She put her hand to her mouth. "Oh, of course. I'm sorry. So sorry. I shouldn't have said that." She stepped into the house. "See?"
Buffy blinked.
"I'm sorry for scaring you. Should know better than being polite in the doorstep of all things," the redhead continued without noticing Buffy's incomprehension.
The Slayer finally found words to say. "What are you doing here?"
Willow shrugged. "Devon called for last-minute practice. So I'm dateless tonight and I thought--- hey, where are you going?"
Buffy looked down and saw the suitcase dangling from her hand. "I'm-" She could tell Willow that she was reuniting with her mother. She could say that she was spending some days at L.A. for her father's birthday. Hell, she could say that she was taking some clothes to the library because she was sick of wearing the same clothes before and after practice. Buffy could tell her friend that Giles didn't want anyone to come today because they were experimenting with new weapons. Really dangerous weapons.
Buffy could have said many things, dozens of lies made their way to her brain in those instants. But, as she saw Willow's eyes looking trustingly at her, the Slayer realised that she couldn't abandon her friends.
It was a single second. One of those turning points in everyone's life which changes the future of the self and of everybody around.
"I'm taking some old clothes to the basement."
Willow beamed. "Oh, that's good. Because I thought you were going on a trip, o something. And, well, not that you don't have better things to do but." She flushed slightly. "I wanted to spend some time with my best friend."
Closing her eyes so the tears wouldn't escape, Buffy opened the basement door, forgetting completely to pay attention to the redhead's news as every loud step downwards reminded her of Angel's as he carried her down those other stairs.
Outside, Angelus watched the scene from the window. Willow had beat him to the Summers' household only by some seconds. She'd never noticed him, of course, as she was too busy looking for danger to feel his presence behind.
He saw as a smiling Buffy opened the door for him and her shock when she found her friend instead.
He gritted his teeth as he heard the conversation, an intense fury growing with each of Buffy's words.
He fisted his hands so tightly that his nails drew blood from his palms.
Finally Angelus saw her disappearing into the basement.
With one last snarl of rage, he left Buffy's house.
She'd pay for disappointing him.
Everybody would.
Night Five
Buffy tried to concentrate on the conversation as she danced with Xander.
He was talking about Cordelia, something about her parents. But if he asked Buffy would never be able to say if he'd really met them or if the horror tales were only his imagination.
She knew Angel was there. Probably watching her right now. She could feel his cold fury into her bones. The weight of her betrayal was deep in her heart. But, how to abandon her friends when they counted on her? How to leave them to Spike's and Dru's mercy knowing that they had none, especially when Drusilla found out about her Sire's absence.
Cordelia and Willow were amiably chatting at their table. Buffy looked at them with something akin to sympathy. They were not only her friends, they were part of her burden and her duty too. No matter how much she ached to go to Angel, to be in his arms again and forget the world in his kisses, she couldn't. She mustn't.
Because Buffy was not only Buffy, she was the Slayer too. And Slayers cannot leave their posts. Not even if their human bodies and blood were screaming and begging for freedom.
Finally the dance ended and she answered automatically to Xander's comments. Half an hour later she had already delivered her friends safely home. She went into her home, surprised at finding her mother already there. Joyce kissed and hugged her and vowed she'd missed her 'little girl'. Buffy smiled tremulously and raced to her room under the pretext that so much fluff was choking her.
She changed into her pyjamas and felt her skin scratching, calling for his fingers to calm it down. Finally crawling under her covers, Buffy cried herself to sleep.
Her Slayers instincts never felt Angelus enter her room. Too attuned to his presence, her body kept happily dozing as he drew what he'd never have again.
His hands moved madly over the paper, once drawing her body as he remembered it on his bed, his red sheets doing a poor job at covering her. Then Angelus drew the scene in front of his eyes, Buffy in her tiny bed, Mr. Gordo at one side guarding her sleep. He only left when dawn threatened to imprison him in her house. But before a last drawing was done. The pencil moved madly to finish the last touches of this work. A picture of them, not kissing, not touching, not even speaking. Just looking at each other, exactly how he imagined they must have looked like when Buffy told him she'd flee with him.
He stared at the last picture, a longing note creeping into his eyes before he forced it away. Then he ripped the paper. Slowly. Deliberately. Wanting to shred every bit of gone hope along with the drawing.
Making sure that the envelope with the picture of Buffy in her own bed was plainly visible, he opened the window again and let the little scraps of torn paper fly away.
With a last look at his Slayer, Angelus left again. The End.