She stood outside the hotel, staring up at its immense structure. Inside was the answer to a question not yet asked, the solution to a problem long ago posed.
Buffy held her breath as she looked at it. It held the man that she long thought she would never be able to have. It held the man that she loved. It held the man that she trusted. It held the man that held her.
How long ago had it been since she had felt his lips on hers? Not stolen kisses. Not kisses that were half-promises, that were rushed and full of fear. When was the last time she had truly kissed this man? Put her mouth to his and unabashedly loved him with everything that she was?
Memories from what seemed a lifetime ago flooded her, and she shut her eyes against them, fighting the urge to cry out. A moment later, the pain of her past subsided. She was no longer the little girl she once was, unsure of the meaning of love, unsure how to deal with herself, with the feelings she found herself feeling. She was older now, and perhaps more guarded. And she was ready to let the memories go. She was ready to look forward. She was ready to live in the present, not dwell in the past. She was ready to go after her desire.
And so Buffy pushed open the large doors of the hotel. Under her strong hands, the wood felt smooth and hard as she revealed the lobby of the Hyperion to her own eyes.
Her first thought was how well Angel kept the place up and running. The door did not creak, the smell was clean and fresh, and not musty like one would expect.
Her second thought was Angel. She saw him, although he did not notice her. She looked over his frame, large and imposing as it always was, and wanted to melt into him. She wanted to feel his arms close around her small body, she wanted to hear his voice whispering words of comfort and nonsense in her ear.
Her third, and most upsetting, thought, was that Angel did not see her. He did not turn, to see her standing in the doorway, expression becoming more and more pained. He did not see her, he did not turn, because of his involvement in the other girl. A blonde, busty girl whose name Buffy had never heard him pronounce, although who must have held some kind of importance to him, because of the way their tongues met and explored.
Buffy’s first instinct was to kill her. She could do it, she imagined. Just rip her off of the man she had taken a nine hour flight to profess her love to him, and throw her across the room. It was an old, animal instinct that Buffy assumed came from prehistoric times: Get off my mate.
And then, reality set it, and crushed her like she was nothing. Tears immediately sprung to her eyes as she watched Angel’s hands tangle in the girl’s hair. She had been nervous, of course, as she came here. She had been unsure of what he was going to say. But she had never actually thought that he would be involved with someone else. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that he would say no.
It was selfish, absolutely. It was cocky. But it was the truth. Buffy knew—had always known—that Angel loved her. So, what, did she expect that she could just waltz in here with a promise of undying devotion and think that he would run to her?
Yes, she had. But now it was made blatantly obvious that it was not the right time. He was with another woman that he enjoyed, cared about, possibly loved. No, now was certainly not the right time.
A great weight settled over Buffy’s heart as it became clear that there may never be a right time. There may never be a beautiful reunion, there may never be a “Buffy and Angel” anymore. It was unbelievable, but entirely possible.
And so Buffy backed out of the hotel, making sure not to disturb the lovers. She could make a scene if she wanted to, but what good would it do? He was with someone else, and although it cut her from the inside out, Buffy couldn’t find the energy to ruin another night of Angel’s life with the drama her arrival suggested.
She was outside, staring at the tall doors when she felt two strong hands on her shoulders. She whipped around, thinking that maybe a good kill was exactly what she needed.
Her raised hand dropped to her side as she stared into the blue eyes of the man that held her. His lips were stuck out in that amused pout that used to piss Buffy off so badly, while at the same time making her crazy with desire. His head was cocked slightly to the side, his scarred eyebrow arched.
“What brings you to these parts, Slayer?” he questioned, removing his hands from her to dig in his long leather coat for a cigarette and a lighter.
Buffy sighed, too tired to think of anything to tell him.
“Let me guess,” Spike went on, blowing smoke into cool breeze of the night air, “You’re here to tell my grand poof of a sire about your big yen for him. How am I doing?” He chuckled, staring at Buffy’s defeated stance. “What? Can’t make it in the front door? Let me help.” Before Buffy could stop him, he had pushed open the front door.
Buffy shut her eyes, the scene was just too much to bear. When she opened them again, she was watching Spike shut the door slowly. He turned to her, a sympathetic expression on his face as he faced the woman he had once tried to kill. Once tried to love.
“Buffy?” Spike asked, after a time.
Buffy sighed and bent down, lowering herself onto the stoop of the hotel. Spike stared down at her, her slight form radiating pain. And then he sat as well.
“Can I have one of those?” Buffy asked quietly.
Spike frowned before holding up his cigarette.
Buffy nodded.
“When did you develop the habit for the cancer sticks, pet?” Spike asked, his hand hovering above his pocket, but making no move to retrieve what she asked for.
“I am trying to develop it right now. Can I have one?”
Spike couldn’t help a smile. “Nah. Won’t help.”
Buffy sighed again. She stared at the LA street. A million years ago, this had been her home. Now it held the home of the one man she felt belonged to. “Who is she?” she finally asked.
Spike winced. He lifted his hand and scratched his eyebrow uncomfortably with his pinky finger. “Nina. They’re dating.”
Buffy closed her eyes, but opened them again. “I figured.”
Spike nodded, tearing his eyes away from her to look out into the night. Somehow it seemed disrespectful to stare at her while she was in mourning.
“And what about you?” Buffy asked. “You got a girl too? Drusilla back with a soul? Wouldn’t that be hilarious?” The bitterness in her tone was sharp enough to cut glass.
Spike sighed. “No,” he said simply.
Buffy turned to him, tears of sadness, anger, embarrassment shining in her eyes. “I’m so stupid.”
Spike shook his head. “No, love. You’re not.”
Buffy nodded her head vigorously, repeating, “I am. God, Spike, I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid.”
“No, Buffy. No. Stop it, love.” He tried to calm her, tried to stop her trembling. He laid his hands on her shoulders once again. “Love,” he cooed. Her teeth began to chatter as he tightened his grip.
As she looked into the ice blue of his cold eyes, her breathing began to slow, and her shaking ceased. His cool touched reminded her of times long ago. She cocked her head, tilting her face slightly upward as she became once again familiar with the contours of his features. His razor sharp cheek bones, and the hollows of his cheeks. That scar traveling through his left brow, the one he had gotten when he killed one of her sisters. The way his eyes were so full of compassion and worry when he took in her hysterics. Buffy shrugged his hands off of her, never leaving his gaze. And then she was free of his grasp, and her desire pulsated through her. She lifted her arms and pulled his head to hers.
His lips were limp for a moment, but then she felt it. His arms encircled her, and he placed them on her lower back, pulling her to him. Her lips parted and he thrust his tongue into her mouth, just as he had done so many times before. It was animal, hungry. It felt good and, oh, so easy. So gloriously simple.
|
|
|
|
Rave
Barbie Girl (Becca)
biscuit07
Filmtheory (Jim)
Malice (Jess)
MebbtheScribe (MichaelB)
Reset (Allie)
Shay (Marrisa)
somnambulist29 (Shea)
Stephanie Loss
Wendyness (Wendy)
Questions?Contact Us
|
|
All stories on this site have been archived with the authors' consent. Do not copy these stories for your own uses without the express consent of the author themselves. Buffy the Vampire Slayer TM and Angel TM are © UPN, WB, Fox and its related entities. All photos on the site are © UPN, Fox, Warner Bros, and/or their respective owners. No profits are being made by use of these images.
Powered with the assitance of eFiction.
|
|
|
