BtVS Vignette #1

Between WSWB and SAR


I rock her, slowly, in my arms. The sounds of her weeping are growing fainter with each breath she takes. I loose my grip, silently assuring her that she is in control of at least this one thing. It's been hard for her, dealing with death and life. I know she'll be fine now, though.


The others come down from the loft, and she pulls away from me without meeting my eyes. Is she still angry with me? Willow smiles encouragingly at me and leans closer to the boy. He, of course, is glaring at me. Normally I would find that funny, but after the week I've had, nothing seems amusing. The Calendar woman is petting the other girl, Cordelia, who is milking the situation for everything she can get. I find her slightly irritating, but she has a good heart. Certainly not the first person on earth to have screwed-up priorities.


Giles approaches Buffy, as I fade back into my shadows. She is looking at the floor, and so doesn't notice my departure. The librarian casts a questioning glance my way, and nods in understanding. Thank God I don't find any pity in his expression. I couldn't stand that.


When I reach the door, I pause to check on her once more. She's talking calmly with Giles and Ms. Calendar. The look on her face tells me she's finally come to her senses. Now, if I know Buffy, she'll be dealing with guilt. Much as I'd like to spare her that, I know it'll do her good.


As I slip out the door, I notice the other three teens leaving through the far door. They will also have a lot to talk about.


I wish, as I sometimes do, for someone to talk to. Guess it's myself again, I sigh. Strange how after all these years I can still feel bereft. To leave her hurts. There's a deep ache in my chest, and a thundering in my ears. I shake my head to clear it, and to drive the Buffy-thoughts away. It doesn't work.


I find myself dwelling again, on "the dance." My blood begins to boil, just that quick, and the need to hurt someone (someone with dark hair) is foremost in my mind. I look down to see my fingers bent into claws. I shake myself again.


Ah well, at least she accepted my comforting her. And I know how she feels. A deep sigh escapes my lips, as I wonder how I'll be able to deal with seeing them together. The way she moved against him is etched on my brain. So sensual, so silky, so so not with my. The pain was incredible. And I couldn't take my eyes off her. Everything I've longed to have from her, she gave to him. I hear a deep growl, and realize it's me. "Hmph!" I snarl.


I've got it bad. The thought wafts through my mind like a sweet breeze, accompanied by the memory of Buffy when I kissed her last. Her lips slightly swollen and pink, her eyes full of emotion. God, but I long to be with her, for just a little while a dream I know can't be.


Shrugging at my own impotence, I feel my stomach cramp with hunger. Guess it's time to head home. I think. I'm not too thrilled to go back to that lonely place, where I'm closeted with only my thoughts of Buffy. Oh well, that's all I've got left anyway. I slump away from the warehouse, towards my place.




I can't believe I've been reduced to this spying oh her and friends. Warning her of danger and helping her in the hunt is one thing. Listening-in during the day is something else entirely. I should be ashamed of myself, but I need to see her, hear her voice, and pretend to be a part of her life at least.


I slink around a bookcase, stopping short when I hear her voice. I listen intently for a moment, as she speaks to Giles about last night.


"How can I face any of them again? I've made a total fool out of myself this time." Her tone is full of remorse, and I ache to go to her, and fold her in my arms. To tell her I forgive her, at least.


"Well, I've got to go to class, I guess." She sounds afraid, as well as anxious. "Will you walk with me, Giles?" I will, I silently tell her. Giles nods, and they exit. I sigh, and settle down to wait for her to return. I really should go home and try to get some rest, but I know I'd just lie there, awake. The term "lovesick" has developed a whole new meaning for me.


I'm startled awake by laughter. It's late in the afternoon, and the shadows hiding me are deepening. I hear them laughing again, and strain to pick out the words. All four of them are here, and it sounds as if everything is back to normal.


Relief floods my body. I couldn't stand the thought of her being without her friends. I peek through the books, to see Willow sitting at the computer, a pretty smile on her face. The boy walks by behind her, and I follow his movements with suspicion. I can't seem to get over this anger toward him. He arrives at the far side of the room, where I see Buffy talking to Giles. The boy gives her backside a good, long look, and then puts his hand on her shoulder, possessively. I am struggling to keep from leaping out to attack him. She turns her head to smile sweetly at him, and my heart plummets to the floor. My anger seeps away, a deep sadness taking its place.


She cares for him, I tell myself, and I observe a moment longer. Then I turn away, to spare myself any further torment. I'm so lost in my self-pity that I become careless, and a book on the shelf next to me is knocked to the floor.


I freeze; every sense focused on the slayer. There is silence, and then footsteps coming toward me up the right-hand staircase. I use the abilities I've developed over the past two centuries, and ghost out of the library.


Over the next few days, I am drawn again and again to watch her, though never with the boy. I can't deal with that situation. So I follow her when she hunts, and watch over her when she sleeps.


That brings it's own problems, but I was loathe to be without contact with her. Chances would have to be taken if I was to see Bu



And so I find myself on the Summers' porch roof, silently leaning on Buffy's window ledge, watching her sleep. She's even more beautiful when relaxed, and away from her duties. Unfortunately, tonight she isn't sleeping peacefully. Nightmares are stalking her, making her restless. As I watch, she shifts her head back and forth, and cries out in fear.


I take a huge risk, but I can't help myself. Climbing through the window, I silently cross the room to her. I kneel next to the bed, and with a feather-light touch, I smooth the hair away from her damp forehead. She stills immediately, as if my touch has calmed her, and a tiny smile appears on her lips. I dare not stay any longer and so reluctantly rise to go. As I cross to the window I hear her murmur in her sleep, "Angel."


I am infused with joy and hope. Might she still care for me? Am I simply reading things wrong? As I travel back to my own bed, I feel conflict between my heard and head. My heart is completely focused on the fact that Buffy my love me still. My head reminds me that it doesn't matter, as I can't have her anyway.


The last sobers me, and my steps slow. I realize that my perspective has been lost. Damn it! I sit down on a nearby bus stop bench to think.


Well, there's one thing for certain. When it comes to Buffy, my control is shot. That thought is accompanied with a humorless laugh. Shit, this is ridiculous. I have to get a grip on my emotions, or else I'll lose it. But is there a happy medium in this for me? I realize that I can't have Buffy, but I also realize that it would be too difficult to give her up completely. Where do I draw the line?


I get up and begin walking again, until I find myself behind the school. Apparently my subconscious is answering the questions before I can. Well, since I'm her it can't hurt to try.


As I enter through the stacks, I hear the distinctive heartbeat of the librarian/Watcher. I round the last bookcase to find him asleep on a heavy tome. I move closer to wake him.


"Giles," I say softly. His head pops up, and he looks around disorientedly, until he sees me.


"Angel, what on earth are you doing her? Is there something wrong?" He fumbles for his glasses for a moment, looking anxious.


"No, nothing's wrong." I take a deep breath, digging deep for more courage. "I just have something I'd like to discuss with you." I sit down opposite him.


"Certainly, what can I do for you?" His brow furrows, and he waits expectantly.




It's a lovely night, and I am balanced, but expectant. The talk with Giles garnered more than I anticipated, and I feel more together than I have since Buffy returned.


As I stroll through the graveyard, I listen for her closely. She's hunting, and could conceivably hurt me, if I'm not prepared. So I go softly.


I smell her suddenly, and I'm filled with memories again. The few times I've held her will stay with me, even if she chooses not to.


There she is, ahead of me, sitting on a headstone. She's playing with a a yo-yo, for God's sake, while she waits for a vampire to rise. I chuckle quietly, and wonder what's to come. Whatever it is, I'm sure it won't be boring with my slayer around.


"Buffy---"


THE END