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Buffy and Angel: In Sunlight and Shadow (Page 4)
By N.C.

Disclaimer: Joss owns all.

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Chapter Four

One week later, Xander, Emily, Willow, and Tara had started up their car wash. They invited Buffy, too, but she used work as an excuse. They all knew it was Angel she moped about. The car wash was definitely prospering. They were already making money, and when the cash stopped rolling in, Emily had plenty of other ideas. At the moment, Xander and Emily were manning the car wash while Willow and Tara were at the Bronze.

Xander made one last funny remark to the latest customer as he left in his shiny, newly washed car, then put on a bright, fake smile as one of his neighbors came along in her very dirty sedan.

"Would you mind washing this old car for me, Alexander?"

Yes, I would--my name is XANDER!!!!!! Pronounced Zzzz-ANNE-der. Do you GET IT now? But he said, "It would be a pleasure, Mrs. Hopkins! Drive her right up here…"

. . .

Willow finished quietly, "And so she had a broken arm and a cut on her forehead, and I was still drunk on magic, I just couldn't stop…" She looked upset.

"But now you can. It's ok, Willow, you stopped now. It's alright!" Tara comforted. "Now let's dance."

They danced for three songs, but after that Willow got tired. She had had a long day at the car wash already. "So, you want to go surprise Buffy at work?"

"I don't know…I was thinking of…um…going home." Which is not quite what she meant, but Willow got the drift.

"YEAH! I mean, yeah, sure, whatever." She giggled. "Let's go."

They left hand in hand, content to be together.

. . .

"Em?"

"Yeah?"

"How about a break?"

"Any time." She grinned. Their 'break' was kissing behind his parents' car. She sighed happily.

"I'm so glad we're an official couple!"

"Me too. Oh, me too."

. . .

Dawn was playing Solitaire in the living room—her grounding had been lessened, so she was allowed to go anywhere in the house—when Amanda and Julie knocked on the window. They looked pretty mad, and they wanted her out of the house. She looked at them, looked at the clock, looked at her cards and back at them. Buffy would be home soon, and besides, she was in the middle of her game.

I had some time to think, she imagined saying, and I don't want to be Gothic just because you are. I can find better friends, and better things to do with my time. Like finish this game, and have dinner ready for Buffy when she gets here. So, buhbye! But she didn't say it, only turned her back on the window and made her next move in the card game. Her Gothic time was over.

. . .

Walking home from work, Buffy savored the kiss, and the time together, she and Angel had shared. Their last hug had been more than the hugs they had shared before; it had been like a joining to souls. They had bonded once again, but it was severed as he left. But that was life. Her life.

There's all the more reason to cherish what we had. She put it in past tense to herself, pointedly. It's over. Nothing can happen again. She wanted to cry, but stopped herself.

No. I'm sick of crying, sick of longing for Angel's touch, sick of unhappiness. I want to be happy again. But all she could think of was what she didn't have—couldn't have.

. . .

Once again, Angel stood at Cordelia's apartment window, forgetting that she was behind him, waiting for an answer to her innocent question:

"How was your trip?" He had too many, but not enough, answers to that question. It was full dark, 9:30 at night. Angel wanted to prowl. He brushed past her and almost ran out of the apartment and down the stairs, feeling stifled. But being out in the night air revived him.

A few minutes later, he was walking the streets of L.A., thinking of his love life: What it was and what it had been, and the women he had loved. It was a subject that he could spend hours thinking about. There was Darla, the mother of his son, the woman who had made him a vampire and widened his horizons; Drusilla, whom he had loved and then eventually given up…But she had never given him up. Not quite.

Don't think about Dru. Think about Buffy. Angel said aloud,

"I love you, Buffy, Slayer, lover," he whispered, gazing toward Sunnydale. There was a lump in his throat. He choked it back down, afraid his deep sadness could not be held inside him. But, as always, he managed to contain his roiling emotions within him. Only his darkly handsome face showed what he was feeling inside. In his mind, he saw her face, more clearly than ever, in all the expressions: laughing, crying…tilting her face up for a kiss. But clear through everything else was the pain. Pain he had brought on her. Closing his eyes, Angel thought,

It's not important anymore if the world will forgive me. The problem is that I can't forgive myself.

. . .

Page 4 of 4
The End

Dedicated to all the Buffy and Angel fans
Especially Rachel, who introduced me to Buffy and all its charms.

Send feedback to Scribble246[at]aol.com - thanks!

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