Live For Me

Live For Me


(This happens immediately after Angel spoke to Giles in the library during "Out of Mind, Out of Sight.")


Angel could feel Giles watching him as he left through the library's back entrance. I can only imagine what he thinks of me. Pity, I'm sure. The thought was bitter. Oh stop feeling sorry for yourself! He told himself. After all these years, you'd think he would've outgrown some things, but self-pity wasn't one of them.

He emerged into the soft night, and took in a large breath. He could smell a couple of cats nearby, and Buffy. There was no mistaking her scent; it was embedded in his olfactory nerve. He turned toward the trail of sweet Buffy-smell.

Apparently, she had left the school about the same time he did. He fleetingly wondered if she had located the invisible girl. Probably not, or she'd still be inside. He rounded the corner of the white brick building, and stopped short. There she was.

God, she's beautiful. Angel thought to himself. He almost spoke it aloud, but caught himself in time. Her slayer's hearing would've picked it up, and then he would have to face her.

As wonderful as that sounded, he knew it would be too painful to be that close to her. They had decided nothing could come of their feelings, deep as they were. So why put his heart through that torment? He would content himself with watching her from afar.

She began walking down the sidewalk toward her house, her Buffy-boots making a loud clomping sound. He let her go a ways ahead before he followed, in the grass this time. He smiled as he remembered the first time he'd followed her. Taught him not to underestimate the girl. Also taught him to make so much noise around her. He had to push his vampire abilities to the limit to keep from drawing her attention. Talented, she was, above and beyond her God-given gifts. And what gifts they were.

He breathed deeply, to catch her elusive scent again. All at once he was lost is memories the touch of her hand sliding up around his neck/ her soft lips pressed passionately against his; her small body encircled by his arms. Heaven couldn't be any sweeter than time spent with his love. His slayer.

Buffy stopped at Willow's house. It was late, so she went around to knock on the girl's window. Angel followed, staying on the other side of the fence. He could see the redheaded hacker, and the boy, Xander, at work on the computer. They turned at the soft knock she made, and Xander rushed over to open the window. On his face could be seen his great excitement at Buffy's appearance.

Angel felt his anger rise when the boy touched HIS slayer's hand. His fangs appeared suddenly, and he zoned in on the boy's heartbeat. For a few moments, the vampire seriously considered killing him. Jealousy is a dangerous emotion for a vamp. He shook his head to clear it, and his face smoothed back to normal. You need to calm down. He spoke disgustedly to himself. Just the thought of someone else laying their hands on Buffy, made him nearly fly in a rage. She's not yours. You can't have her, vamp. The thought was stone cold, and calmed him right down.

He heard the window close, and looked up to find her almost in front of him. With the smooth, inhuman speed only a vampire could accomplish, he slid behind a nearby tree. Almost too late, as proved by the slayer's slowing. She glanced around with a questioning look on her face, and then shrugged her shoulders, continuing down the sidewalk to her home.

As she approached the two-story white clapboard, she reached into her bag and pulled out the door key. Buffy unlocked the door and smiled to herself as she entered the house. She loved the fact that Angel followed her every night, and she took great pride in her ability to sense his presence when he neared her. He tried to keep far enough away, but what he didn't realize was that he "felt" different from the other vampires. When Angel was near, she could feel the warmth and love he felt for her. She basked in it nightly.

It was a great failure to her that she and Angel could not be together. A personal failure, bad karma, whatever. Just chalk it up to another slayer stupidity. He else could the man she fell in love with be a vampire? What are the odds?! It had to be her slayer powers warping everything she touched. She suddenly realized how deeply angry she was. No, enraged. She put her keys away. Turning around, she looked out in the direction she knew Angel to be, and called to him. There was no answer for a moment, and then he emerged from behind the hedge two houses down.

He approached her slowly, wondering what he'd done to give away his position. She answered his unasked question, "If you really want to know, I always know you're there." She met him halfway, and without warning, threw her arms around his neck. Pulling his head down, she kissed him. Everything she felt flowed into that kiss. Loneliness, frustration, fear, anger--- the underlying savagery she carried within her. No ordinary man would have withstood it, but Angel was no ordinary man.

He knew what was happening to her, because he went through it every day of his long, long life. His arms slipped around her to hold her tightly. To reassure her that she was not alone, or unloved.

After a while, she broke the rough kiss, embarrassed. With a soul-wracking sob, she pushed him away and ran wildly down the street. He followed her with speed only a slayer could match.

Halfway through town she finally ran out of adrenaline, and slowed to a walk. She heard Angel catching up with her, but couldn't muster up the energy to run anymore. Why not face him? She thought. It wasn't like she'd every worried what guys thought of her. Well, not lately. Buffy squared her shoulders and turned to face the man she loved. If he loved her, like Darla had said, and he implied, then she owed him the truth.

He stopped in front of her, and grabbed her hands in his. "Babe, I know what's wrong. You don't have to run from me." He sounded concerned, and his hands were warm. She closed her eyes for a moment moved as close to him as she could get without climbing into his clothes with him. She felt, more than heard, the low chuckle from him.

Surprised, she looked up to see him smiling. "What?" she asked, a little embarrassed again.

"You certainly know how to grab a man's attention." His voice was full of laughter, and a little- what? Maybe attraction? Angel led her over to a bus bench, and pushed her onto it. "You're angry at yourself, the world, everything." Her eyes widened in amazement. "You want things to be different, but you have no control over your life. You want to break things, scream, and run away. Anything to get away from being a slayer." He was telling her life. How did he know these things? She felt something on her arm, and realized tears were dripping off her face.

Angel came closer and used his shirttail to wipe her eyes. "I know what you're feeling, because I've felt it about my own life." He drew her close, and gazed into her eyes. "Buffy, I want the same things you do. A normal life, no big problems, someone to love and to love me." But the fates have decided otherwise. He thought bitterly. To her he said, "But for whatever reason, we were handed lived that will mean something. Power to change things, and not to sound clique, but with power come responsibility."

"No," was her only response. She looked up into his eyes, his confused expression only an irritant. "I told you once I didn't want this job, but I took care of the master, for Willow's sake. I got nothing in return but the chance to die. I refuse to do it anymore."

Angel couldn't believe that she could shirk her responsibilities in this fashion. What about all the people around that would die from vamp attacks, and God-only-know what else? His expression told it all to Buffy.

"You misunderstand. There must be a slayer." She got up and turned to walk away from him. Stopping in the street, she turned to look at him again, and said, "It's just not going to be me." She then took off down the street in a flat-out run.

"Shit," muttered Angel. She was fast, and she'd tricked him into complacency. He hauled ass after her at top speed. After a couple of minutes he see her blonde hair reflecting the light of the streetlights she passed. Fatigue must be setting in, or he never would have caught up to her. God, she was running as if from the hounds of hell themselves. Where to, though? He looked around as he traveled, and realized they were near the outskirts of Sunnydale, where the rock quarry was located. What could she possibly want out here? he wondered.

He'd lost sight of her. Continuing on in the same direction, he noticed movement in the corner of his right eye. He turned in that direction, finding himself near the largest of the pits. He jumped up halfway, and climbed the rest of the way over the perimeter fence, looking around for a glimpse of shiny blonde hair. There was no movement, and he skidded to a stop at the very edge of the pit. He glanced down and froze.

There was a body about 30 ft. down inside the quarry, and it was wearing Buffy's clothes, and Buffy's boots, and had Buffy's hair. Angel had to face the fact that his Buffy had jumped.

The reformed vamp began scrambling down the side of the rocky hole, and quickly, leaving bits of flesh and blood on the rocks all the way down, reached her. She wasn't moving and there was a little blood on the limestone next to her head. He came closer slowly, not wanting to believe that she might be dead. Angel was as close to tears as he'd ever been, and with great tenderness, smoothed Buffy's hair away from her face. He leaned down and kissed her temple gently. Why would you do this? He spoke softly, "Is leaving me here without you such a wonderful idea?" He began searching her over for injuries. There was at least one broken bone, in her arm, but nothing else serious thank God. He looked at the sky, estimating dawn's approach. Satisfied that he had time, he carefully moved her head onto his lap, and settled down to wait.

Buffy came slowly to consciousness. The pain in her head was incredible, and she wondered whether or not it was split open. She hoped so; cause death HAD to be better than this. She was faintly aware of the fact that someone was with her. She thought about it a moment, and recognized the "taste" of her lover. She hadn't really expected Angel to follow her, but if she was gonna die, she'd rather do it with him. Her senses were returning, and she heard him speaking. Was he talking to himself? Then she understood the words and the intent

"Buffy, I know you're awake, and I know you can hear me." His tone was confident, decisive. He continued to run his long fingers through her, now bloody and matted, hair. She still, even in this strange situation, found his touch thrilling. He spoke again, this time with the deep love he felt for her, plain. "If you are this unhappy, and wish to leave this existence, then who am I to stop you?" Sadness crept into his tone. "I only ask one thing. That you let me accompany you. You have become the only bright spot in my life, and I'd rather not hang around after you're gone." There was no room for argument in his voice. Angel had decided to die with her. She knew how, too. He would simply remain with her until the sun rose.

Buffy calmly considered the prospect of Angel's death. Could she let him die to feed her selfish reasoning? Suicide had never entered her mind before tonight, and she knew it was a rash decision, even as she lay at the bottom of a quarry pit. The pain of her life had become so great, that she had just wanted relief and release. And death had seemed to be the only way. Now, in retrospect she realized her love for this once-man would not allow her this out.

Angel listened to her heartbeat, and her breathing. It sped up and slowed down several times, and he knew she was thinking about what he'd said. He was entirely serious, too. If she was dead, there was nothing for him here. What's to live for, if your love is gone? And in his case, it was all he had left.

OK Buffy my girl. Let's see if you can move, because sure as shootin' there's no way Angel can carry you out of this hole she thought ryely. She raised her head a little, to test her strength. Aside from the splitting headache, and what she could tell immediately was a broken arm, her body felt functional. *It figures. I can't even kill myself properly, * she thought disgustedly. Damn her slayer powers, anyway! Rising to a sitting position, with Angel's help now, she froze momentarily as a wave of nausea came over her. It did its job well, and she quickly turned her head to throw up on the limestone rocks next to her. Angel pulled a white handkerchief from his jacket pocket, and reached around to wipe her mouth. He brushed her hair away from her face, and cleaned off the little bit of vomit that had splattered on the tendrils.

"Will you be all right?" he asked with hesitant concern. Angel hoped she had decided to keep her life, and him. He glanced up at the sky again, and calculated how much time they had left. Two hours give-or-take a little. He told her so.

"Guess we better see if I can stand, let alone climb." So saying, she placed her hands flat on the ground, and pushed herself up. She rose until her hands were pressing on her thighs for support. Waiting there for a moment to catch her breath, she continued to a fully upright position. Angel was behind her with his hands on her shoulders, so she leaned back against him. The strength and love he exuded warmed her like nothing else could. She said, "You and I are going to have another talk about this thing between us, Angel." Saying nothing more, she moved toward the side of the pit, and began slowly climbing.

It took them almost the full two hours to reach the top, and Buffy was beginning to wonder if she would make it. Several times she tried to convince Angel to go on without her, but he simply shook his head and waited. That was the only thing that kept her going. She knew if she didn't reach the top before sunrise, her love was dead.

Angel pulled her tired, beaten body up the last few feet, without her help. He then, with inhuman endurance, carried her to the treeline, where he laid her gently down. "Will you be all right here?" He looked around as he spoke, as if to locate any danger that might be lurking. Glancing again at the sky, he said, "I've got only moments, so I'll go to ground in a vamp place nearby. I should be able to get home from there."

"Be careful, you don't want to get caught," she replied tiredly.

He knelt down beside her, and leaned over to kiss her gently on the forehead. "I'll call Giles when I get to a phone. Don't go anywhere. OK?" A small smile played about on his lips as he gazed into her half-closed eyes. "Buffy." His tone made her eyes widen. She waited silently for him to speak again. "Whatever happens to you, I want to be there." The meaning was clear to her. Even death with her was preferable to being away from her.

She smiled, and clasped one of his hands in hers. Pulling him to her, she kissed his lips with a soul-deep yearning for the companionship and understanding she had been missing. Suddenly pushing him away, she said, "Go." Watching as he disappeared through the trees, she asked herself what she'd done lately to deserve him. Shaking her head gently with the wonder of it all, she settled down to wait for Giles.


THE END