A Night to Forget: A Night to Forget
by Ophelia
I do not own these characters, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Warner Bross etc. do. (Actually, since I haven't revealed who the characters in this fic are, it brings up an interesting point about copyright - but I intend to write a sequel where I reveal who they are, so I'm giving credit to their creators at the start.) I'm just borrowing them for a night.
I'd love to hear anyone's views on who these two really are, 'cause to be honest, I don't even know just yet. I'm not setting this at any point in particular yet, so it could be before or after Angel loses his soul, or goes to Hell or something. I'm pretty sure it's after the events of What's My Line, so Cordy and Xander are 'together'. The only character who couldn't be in this is Dru - I'm not sure she even knows how to use a phone!
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The most surprising thing about the evening - well, if he was honest, it was only one of many surprises - was that she was actually there. The telephone call had put him off-balance. In his giddy joy at being the one she thought of, and not only that, but being the one she wanted to be with, he’d allowed his excitement to overtake his common sense. Why would she choose him of all people when they were such an unusual match? And she had never shown any interest in him before. In fact, he hadn’t even thought about her in that way, except as part of the vague male fantasies everyone has. That wasn’t to say he wasn’t interested in her; he’d just never considered the possibility seriously.
As he approached the place they’d agreed to meet, the new frozen yoghurt shop that had just opened, he reflected that at least it wasn’t a popular place at this time of night - everyone was at the Bronze, or out looking for the kind of snack you couldn’t buy from a shop. (Or possibly at the hospital or morgue, depending on how lucky they were.) Since it was virtually guaranteed to be empty, there would be no one to laugh at him when it became obvious he was being stood up.
Although the logical part of his brain interrupted to point out that even if she *was* there, and she *was* serious, it was still a stupid idea, since both of them were, technically, at least, “involved”, he consoled himself with the thought that his girlfriend would never know. If he could call her his girlfriend. He wasn’t quite sure what was happening in his relationship at the moment, it was seriously fragile. his traitorous conscience screamed at him.
It seemed that every part of his mind was against this, from his logical part, his conscience, and all the other myriad voices that represented his multiple view points. He was regularly involved in minor arguments between what he affectionately liked to call his “advisors” over practically every decision in his life. This was no exception. In fact, the only part that wasn’t against this was the mysterious voice that was constantly urging him to do things he knew were bad ideas. The part he thought was designed to get him into trouble, but it was also the part that was always irresistible. he thought. the voice replied. he thought, smiling to himself.
His thoughts returned to his... partner. He cared for her, true, possibly even loved her, but the phone-offer was too exciting to turn down. It was forbidden, and possibly even dangerous. People could get hurt. But for once in his life he didn’t want to think about anything - or anyone - else. He wanted to push his life under the carpet, even if only for a night. He wanted to be free.
The thought had come to her as she lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, and wondering why she wasn’t with *him*. The person she was fairly certain she loved (only ‘fairly certain’ because she had to admit, she didn’t have that much experience with love, so she couldn’t tell if this was the real thing or not). And she realised, at that particular moment, it didn’t matter. She didn’t want a relationship, especially not one as whacked as hers was. She wanted fun. And she knew who to have it with. Before she could change her mind she picked up the phone, dialled, and in a rushed voice she made her proposal.
He hesitated before answering, and she wondered briefly whether it was due to thoughts of his girlfriend, or confusion, or possibly disbelief. Then he accepted, and her ridiculously impossible thought suddenly metamorphosed into a very real event. She’d hung up, certain he would be there, despite the hesitation in his voice. Then she’d dressed quickly and left. She’d purposefully chose a meeting time that was only a short while away, so that she would have barely enough time to get there, and none at all to have second thoughts in. She kept her mind busy with thoughts of school, and other such neutral subjects, avoiding all aspects of him, or what she was doing, or why. She was there before him, and she slid into a booth to wait.
He pushed open the door, and was greeted by a blast of cold air from the freezer. He had spent the whole walk there preparing how he would react if she wasn’t there, so he completely failed to register her on his first glance around the room. He had taken a step backwards, already retreating, when he saw her, sitting in a booth, gazing out of the window. He walked toward her slowly, casting his eyes over her lilac knitted top and black denim jacket. She looked beautiful, as always. She was a picture of innocence and vulnerability as she sat with her chin cupped in her hands, staring out the window. It was a side of her rarely seen, she always seemed so brave and in control, despite the turmoil her life had been plunged into. As he watched, a few stray hairs escaped from her loose ponytail, and she swiped at them absentmindedly, tucking them behind her ear in an at once childish and sexy action.
He slid into the booth across from her and she turned away from the window, startled. She stared at him curiously.
‘You came,’ she said, and he almost laughed out loud. Did she ever doubt he would?
‘Have you ordered?’ he asked, and when she shook her head, he signalled the waiter.
The envious look in the guy’s eyes wasn’t lost on him, and he felt a rush of pleasure at being with her. He ordered for both of them, glancing cautiously at her, worried he’d offended her. Instead she looked absurdly happy that he’d ordered exactly what she wanted. He grinned, passing it off as his telepathic abilities, and she laughed in a delighted way, genuinely happy to be in his company. They made small talk until the deserts arrived, both more interested in observing the other than in holding meaningful conversations. Finally, she cleared her throat, and her spoon paused in its journey to the bowl.
‘I don’t want you to get the wrong idea,’ she began, carefully. ‘Actually, I don’t know what the wrong idea is.’ She laughed again. ‘Let alone the right one. I just...’ she threw her hands up in the air, a gesture of frustration at her difficulty in putting her feelings into words as much as one of confusion.
‘It’s okay,’ he reassured her. ‘I know what you mean. When you called... I mean, she’s wonderful, and everything. She’s everything I ever wanted. In fact, she’s absolutely perfect, my ideal woman.’
He saw the amusement in her eyes, and grinned. ‘Although we must be the weirdest match ever on the surface, inside... she’s my match. She fits me perfectly. But, I can’t help wondering... is that right? Are you supposed to meet someone who is *so* right for you? Plus, I’m not sure she feels the same way about me. And that’s a big downer.’ He paused, rendered wordless by the emotions they were both struggling to express.
‘It doesn’t feel like it’s enough, does it?’ she said, sadly. ‘I wanted it to be, but I can’t help wondering, is there more? I haven’t had that much experience with real emotions, and I can’t tell if these are right. It’s like...’
‘You need to compare, right? You need to *know* it’s as perfect as it seems.’
‘Exactly.’ During the conversation she had been gradually leaning closer towards him, and as she spoke the final world, she sighed in satisfaction, and lent back, relieved to have discovered he felt the same.
He watched, fascinated, as she dipped her head, and manoeuvred the spoon to her open mouth, pulling it out cleaned of the yoghurt. It slowly returned to the bowl, and she closed her eyes partway, enjoying the feeling of the cold yoghurt on her tongue. Aware he wasn’t eating himself, he picked up his spoon, and brought it to his mouth, loaded with yoghurt, but stopped half-way. It wasn’t as if he was hungry. Besides, watching her eat, completely unawares of the fact that she was being studied was so much more enthralling. The way she slowly pulled the spoon out of her mouth each time she swallowed more yoghurt was incredibly sensuous, and he found himself wondering if he would get to kiss that mouth.
She remained unaware of his scrutiny, and devoted her entire attention to her desert. It was one of the things he found fascinating about her: the way she threw her entire self into certain tasks, be they saving the world or eating yoghurt.
‘Finished’ she announced, dropping her spoon into her tub. She glanced at his dish.
‘Not hungry?’ He shook his head, and motioned to her that he was ready to leave, suddenly unable to speak.
He led her outside, noticing as he held the door open that she was wearing an elegant long black skirt. He caught glimpses of bare skin as she moved, and wondered briefly if she was cold, before she slipped her arm in his, and his whole world shrank to include only her, and nothing else. A vampire could have run up screaming behind them, and he would only have noticed if it broke them apart.
He spotted a smudge of yoghurt on her upper lip, and on an impulse, he bent down swiftly and kissed it away, tasting the faint tang of strawberries. She was obviously surprised, and didn’t react at first. Then, as he pulled back, separating their mouths, she followed him, and remade the connection. He felt her left hand wrap around his neck, and surrendered to the slight pressure, dropping his head lower. She opened her mouth, and he took her up on her invitation, gently exploring her warm mouth with his tongue. She responded, bringing her own tongue up tentatively to meet his. Suddenly she became infused with passion, and she pulled his head even closer, crushing their lips together, and grinding her hips against his, pressing their bodies closer. It was he who finally broke off.
‘Uh, maybe we should...’ he said feebly, still reeling from the kiss. She smiled, and nodded in agreement.
‘Let’s.’
She took his hand, and began to lead him away.
Ten minutes later they stood outside a house with a dark wooden door. She fished inside her pocket, and pulled out a bunch of keys, smiling triumphantly. She selected a key, and fitted it into the lock.
‘It belongs to a friend of my mom’s. She’s out of town for a month, and I agreed to come and water her plants every now and again.’
‘You *planned* this!? Before you called? *Long* before you called!’ he asked in horrified disbelief. She recoiled at his accusation.
‘No! No, of course not. How could you think that?’ She backed away, hurt. ‘I just couldn’t think of any other place to go...’
‘Where we wouldn’t be seen?’ he finished harshly.
‘No, not that... I just... Look, if you don’t wanna be here, just say so!’ she said, furiously, choosing to take the offensive, turning the anger on him. ‘You can go home, and we can forget this ever happened.’ He ignored her words.
‘Why me?’ he asked, instead. ‘Why not some other guy? In fact, why not *him*?’ he said, and she knew exactly who he was talking about.
‘I... I, uh...’ She decided to settle on honestly. ‘I always wanted to see what you looked like naked,’ she explained.
She looked so guilt-stricken at her admission he started to laugh loudly. ‘That is the weirdest come-on I’ve ever heard,’ he gasped, laughing louder than ever at the expression of bemusement on her face. ‘Let’s go inside.’
She smiled, and evidently decided to ignore his reaction. Instead, she turned the key and pushed the door open, taking the first step in. She paused, and looked into his eyes. Satisfied at what she saw there, she gave a gentle tug on his hand, pulling him in with her.
‘Come on,’ she whispered, a bewitching smile playing about her face. He followed her willingly, shutting the door behind him.
She rolled over onto her back, and sighed contentedly.
‘Thank you,’ she said, smiling at him.
‘Happy to oblige,’ he replied.
After a few minutes silence, she said, ‘I’m glad you helped me realise... how much I want him.’
A flicker of pain crossed his face at her words but it was gone before she registered it.
‘Yeah. Thanks to you, too. I guess I’ll just have to resign myself to the fact that she’s the perfect woman I’ve been waiting for.’ He sighed in mock sadness.
‘Sorry,’ she said, giggling. ‘Although, I don’t think we should ever mention this again.’
‘Yeah. It’s probably a night to forget.’
The End
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