Title: Scattered Thoughts: The Look In Your Eyes (1/3)
Author: JR
Email: JRR42@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13 for language
Episode spoilers: Doppelgangland, Prom Night
Status: Complete
Warning: Songfic
Archive: My site only. www.angelfire.com/de/theparlor/buffy.html
Series/Sequel: Semi-sequel to Scattered Thoughts: Sorry Now, but *before* Road Has Come to an End
Disclaimer: Angel, Willow, et al, are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and the WB. All characters are used without permission. This story is not intended to infringe upon any copyrights, nor is any profit being made from it. The song ‘When You Say Nothing at All’ by Ronan Keating is taken from the ‘Notting Hill’ soundtrack, and is also used without permission.
Thanks: As always, to Carrie and Marius for telling it like it was. You two are the best!!
Notes: I originally planned for the Scattered Thoughts stories to be a writing exercise to get comfortable with writing from POV’s other than Angel’s. It has, however, mutated into a series of missing scenes from various episodes. Given that the story is mostly a stream-of-consciousness thing, there are a number of purposeful grammatical mistakes.
This one came from a conversation I had with Anaelle. See, normally I *hate* songs like this one, especially since it’s by a ‘boy band’ singer. Anaelle laughed and said something along the lines of ‘it’s pretty as an Oz/Willow song, but it could never work in a W/A story.’ Well, I thought differently. I just hope this interpretation works.
Archive summary: Missing scene from the Prom Night episode.

Even across the distance of the circle we’ve all formed, I can see the hurt in Angel’s eyes. He keeps looking around at all of us and, finally, I figure out what the problem is: he doesn’t understand the joke. Suddenly I’m angry at my friends -- and myself -- for our unintentional slight, so I set out to correct it. I’m not doing it out of pity, but understanding. After all, I’ve been in his position *way* too many times in my life. In fact, up until Buffy came to Sunnydale, I spent most of my life outside looking in; never popular or self-confident enough to enter anything but the bottom rung of the school social hierarchy.

Angel doesn’t deserve that. His actions have proven time and again that, not only is he our friend, but he has also more than earned his place in the Slayerettes.

I don’t stop dancing as I make my way through the center of the circle to approach Angel. Even when I finally reach him, my body is still moving to the music. I always seem to forget how much taller he is than I am until I stand next to him. Guess I’m used to being able to look Oz directly in the eye. But it’s Angel that I am standing -- well, dancing -- in front of at the moment. I end up having to stand on my toes in order to be heard over the loud music. We are both still moving to the beat of the song when he sees me and smiles. Oh God, he’s leaning forward in order to hear me better. Oh God, he even smells nicer than Oz! Maybe I can discretely ask him what fragrance he’s wearing so I can get a bottle of it for my favourite werewolf.

Yeah right. Geez, how dumb will that sound to Angel? Get a grip, Willow. Just tell him what you came over here to say.

“Oz and Xander made a bet the other day over whether or not they would play this song tonight,” I explain.

“Why?” Angel asks, leaning down even more to get closer to my ear. A shiver races through me as I catch a stronger whiff of his cologne. Oh God, he *does* smell good! So good, in fact, that it takes real effort to keep my mind focused on his question. Song, Willow! Angel’s waiting for your answer.

“It’s called ‘If You Leave’, and it was used in a movie about a prom. Ever since then, it’s practically become a requirement that all deejays have to play *this* song at every dance since then,” I tell him.

“I get it,” he answers before the corners of his mouth twitch in what looks like the beginnings of a smirk. “So Xander lost, huh?”

“Yes,” I chuckle, knowing that Angel is not above finding humor in Xander’s misfortunes.

“That’s such a damned shame,” he says seriously, and for a second, I think he actually means it. Doh! Don’t be stupid, Will. Oh God, there it is, that devilish twinkle in his eyes that makes my knees go into their liquid state.

“Yeah, right!” I toss back. He grins at me conspiratorially, and I feel myself giving him a grin of my own before I back away to return to my spot by Oz.

Isn’t it funny how we all have our own distinctive ways of dancing? Buffy and Angel are so...sensuous in the way they move. Xander is...Xander is...Xander is jerking around like he just stepped on a downed power line. As for everybody else, their movements are as different as their personalities.

As the song progresses, I can’t help but notice the lyrics. God, no wonder they play this at all the proms. ‘please don’t take my heart away...then we’ll go our separate ways’. How fitting. How sad. That’s going to be us soon. Even if, by some miracle, we survive Graduation, things will never be the same. Very soon, no matter how hard we all fight it, we will inevitably drift apart. Yikes! That was way too deep a thought for tonight. Tonight is about fun. Remember fun, Willow? That stuff that happened before you became aware of the Hellmouth?

Looking around at all my friends, I realize that I’m not the only one having such deep thoughts. It’s painfully obvious when each one of the people around me is hit by the poignancy of the lyrics. One by one, all of their expressions are changing as we all think about what waits for us in the near future.

And that’s what makes tonight so special.

The song is winding down, but before it ends, the volume of the sound is suddenly cut in half. Like me, everybody is looking around, trying to find out what just happened.

Of course, it’s only us Slayerettes that automatically tense up waiting for something big, ugly and scary to leap out of the shadows. Buffy and Angel have instantly fallen into defensive crouches. I guess after spending so much time fighting everything the Hellmouth has thrown at us, not one of us like surprises anymore.

I look over and find Oz staring at something. Wonder what it is? I don’t...oh...there it is. The deejay is scurrying over to one of the massive speakers in the far corner of the room. In the corner of my eye, I see Buffy visibly relax. My fear eases back a few notches seeing the Slayer-version of the ‘all-clear’ sign.

But it’s too late. The interruption has already spoiled all of our fun.

Since we’ve already stopped dancing, somebody decides to head over toward the edge of the dance floor. Of course the rest of us just follow along. Mumbling something to Xander, Anya excuses herself and heads off in the direction of the bathroom. Wesley excuses himself to get drinks for himself and Cordelia. Sure, Wesley, we’d love a drink. Jerk. Stuck up, British, lousy, watching, jerk-guy. Maybe he and Cordy do have something in common after all.

Once he is gone, Xander moves a little closer to Cordy and they strike up a conversation. I know it’s wrong -- I don’t even like him like that anymore -- but I always feel this painful...*pang* whenever I see the two of them together. As a matter of fact, now that I’ve had time to look back on it, I have to wonder how big of a part Xander’s dating Cordy played in my own ‘fluke’ with him. Okay, granted that I’ve...I’d been in love with Xander since...oh...about the fetal stage, but even as it happened, I always *knew* that what we were doing was wrong. I had Oz, and he had Cordy. Maybe, just maybe, if he’d been with anybody else on the planet, I wouldn’t have let things get as far as they did. Of course, it’s easy for me to say that now.

At any rate, it *still* hurts to see them together. Amazingly enough, they don’t seem to be arguing. Wonder how that happened?

Euww! Without the deejay there to change disks, the CD just keeps right on playing. Unfortunately, this next song is some screaming 80’s glam band by the sounds of it. People all over the room are booing and jeering, leaving the floor in droves. Duh. Not surprising since this music is totally undancable. I look over to see that Angel and Oz both wince as the grating noise pounds against their sensitive ears.

Off in the distance, I can see Giles as he hurries over to assist the deejay. I guess he probably wants the problem fixed before the students get rowdy. There’s a funny mental picture, Giles trying to fight the student body as a whole. Oops. I guess it’s not really that funny, considering how much real violence occurs on the Hellmouth. It’s enough that I shouldn’t go around inviting anymore unnecessarily.

Cordelia is leaving, probably to find out what’s keeping Wesley. Once she goes, Xander wanders over and stands between Oz and me and Buffy and Angel. Once he provides a physical link between us, we all close in a little closer in order to talk.

“*What* does she see in him?” Xander voices the question that has been running through all our minds from the first day Cordelia started fawning over the new Watcher.

“My guess is the accent,” Buffy offers helpfully.

“But Giles has the same...,” I begin. Everybody stops what they’re doing to stare at me incredulously.

“Eeuww! Willow!” Buffy chides me. “Mental picture...bad!”

“See?” Xander continues to rant. “She doesn’t act that way around the G-man. So what *is* it about that wimpy, little limey? He’s snotty, condescending, *and* has a stick up his ass the size of a telephone pole. I mean, c’mon! Did you catch him -- and I use the term loosely -- dancing? Jesus, I kept expecting him to start squeaking ‘Oil Can....Oooillll Caaaaan!’”

Although I’m laughing at Xander’s joke, what really makes me *happy* is seeing Angel actually crack a smile right along with the rest of us. Of course, this is one reference he actually gets. Way back before he...became...Angelus again, Buffy persuaded -- much to Xander’s dismay -- Angel to join us one night at my house to watch a rerun of the Wizard of Oz. I can still remember how engrossed he was by it all -- the colours, the music, even the story itself. Of course, the fact that Buffy was practically in his lap all night probably didn’t hurt matters, either.

Before I can get lost in my own memories, as usual on the Hellmouth, everything starts happening at once. First the music stops suddenly, bringing cheers from all my classmates. I open my mouth to add my own, when I just about jump out of my skin! One second, Oz and I are just standing next to each other, and then all of a sudden Giles is right behind us, hanging over us like Lurch from the Adaams Family. Gee, when did he learn to move around so quietly? At least I’m not the only one...disturbed, either, if the looks on all their faces are anything to go by.

“Okay, Giles,” Oz says with the remotest hint of an edge in his voice. “You need to, like, *never* do that again.”

“Never do what?” Cordy asks, obviously back from her unsuccessful search for Wesley.

“I...uh...Oz, I know that...that is to say, I hope that...,” Giles stutters. Ever since I’ve noticed Wesley doing the same thing, I’ve come to the conclusion that stumbling through sentences must either be an English thing or a Watcher thing. I’m just not sure which it is, yet.

Oh cool! I love this song! It’s about time the deejay changed the CD. People are clapping, probably as happy as I am that it’s something from this decade. Other than a curious glance around the room, Giles just keeps on stumbling through what he was saying. Geez, sometimes I think it would take me less time to hack into the Pentagon than for Giles to complete a single sentence.

“Well, since you are in a band, I was hoping that...,” Giles continues.

“You want me to take a look at that speaker?” Oz asks, politely speeding up what is turning out to be a really long process. When Giles nods, Oz turns to me. “Do you mind, baby? I’ll be right back.”

“Sure,” I answer, proud of him for helping out. He smiles at me then walks away with Giles. I know I’ve got that ‘oh *yeah*, that’s *my* boyfriend’ look on my face, but I’m not worried about what anyone thinks of me for wearing it.

“Aw, crap,” Xander mutters, drawing my attention away from Oz’s back. I can tell that he hasn’t been following the conversation going on right in front of him by the way he’s staring off into the crowd so intently. So what’s got him so upset? I follow the path of his gaze to see Anya making a bee-line directly for Xander. Not only that, but she’s got a determined look in her eyes. I want to laugh at how uncomfortable he looks, but the Willowy part of me knows that it would be so wrong.

I open my mouth to say something distracting, but then Xander does something that cuts me right to the bone. Without so much as glancing in my direction, he turns directly to Buffy.

“Buffy, please, I’m *begging* you. You gotta help me out here. Please. I’ll do anything. I’ll...I’ll...I’ll do your homework, take your exams, sharpen your stakes, whatever it takes,” he pleads.

As soon as he says those words, I feel like I’ve just been slapped in the face. I know I shouldn’t be hurt by it -- that I don’t have a right to be -- but that doesn’t make a bit of difference. I mean, Xander’s ignored me for years, even though I’ve always been his bestest bud. Even during that whole fluke thing, I was still playing second fiddle to Cordy. Okay, to be fair, I was doing the same thing to Xander when it all boiled down to it. Even now, I choose Oz. In fact, I begged, pleaded and groveled to get Oz back. So why in the hell am I so jealous that Xander asked Buffy to dance rather than asking me?

Then again, should I really be even remotely surprised? After all, who is always the *first* damned person Xander runs to whenever he steps in shi...uh...*dirt*. Oh God! I can’t believe I almost thought that! But that’s what Xander has driven me to.

It probably won’t matter, anyway. Angel is here, standing right next to Buffy. She’ll say no, and then Xander will turn to me with his biggest ‘I’m-so-pathetic-help-me-out-here-Will’ expression and, like always, I’ll cave in -- be grateful, even -- that he turned to me for help. And, like always, I’ll hide the hurt that I feel, knowing that he came to me second -- again.

“C’mon, Buff, what’d’ya say?” Xander wheedles. “Pleeease?”

Buffy looks over at Angel and, for a second there, I actually believe that as soon as she sees her ex glowering at Xander, she’s actually going to turn Xander down.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Buffy says to Angel in a voice that sounds like pure saccharine to my ears. “It’s only one dance and then I promise I’m yours for the rest of the night. And,” she adds with that ‘I’m-the-Slayer-so-cute-and-irresistible’ look of hers, “it’s for a good cause.”

What a...oooh, I can't believe she actually did that! I’m...I’m...well, I can’t think of a strong enough word for what I am, but what I’m feeling isn’t for me, it’s for Angel. How could she do that to him?

I look over at him, wondering what exactly he’s thinking about right now. For an instant, I swear I catch a flicker of yellow in Angel's eyes, but it's gone so fast, I can't be sure. Poor Angel. With her words, Buffy put Angel in a corner. Now unless he wants to look like...well...like a jealous boyfriend, he has no other choice but to say yes, which he does with a falsely casual shrug of his shoulders.

I can feel my own eyes narrow in anger as I watch Xander and Buffy move out to the far corner of the dance floor. As my mother would say, ‘what a piece of work’.

Buffy may be my best friend, but that doesn't necessarily make me blind to her faults. There have been times when I've been envious of her ability to manipulate people; either with her strength and intensity as the Slayer, or by using her confidence and her looks. While I may occasionally be jealous, there are also other circumstances when she uses her talent that just...well... annoy me. No, to be truthful, it really pisses me off.

And, if I'm this angry, I can't imagine what Angel must be feeling right now.




Next Chapter