They Did Not Fade Away
By Hephaestus
Page 4 of 6
Disclaimer: Joss owns all. No copyright infringement is intended.
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Chapter 16
"What was it you really wanted to talk about?" He was showered and dressed in black slacks and light gray v-neck pullover. He looked ten times better than he had the first few moments she had laid eyes on him.
"Let's walk and talk. No need to be obvious that this was a decoy."
Nodding, he led through the majority of the house, which no one save his four closest friends had ever seen since he had bought the property.
"Buffy has faired a little better than you since... well, since things happened the way they did. Not much better, though. She hasn't had this light in her eyes in so long, it's good to see her this way. And you look... almost as handsome as you did back in Sunnydale. A few days of good living and you'll look better than ever.
You two are good for each other. You weren't, back then, but you are now. I did some checking, and Will did some explaining, and I found that your soul is no longer detachable. It's just like mine of Buffy's. That's great. That means no more Mr. Grrr when things get rough. Knowing that, I also know that you still have your strength, and Will said you've been training pretty hard.
So... don't get upset. I don't need you going postal. I wanted to tell you that Giles is responsible the lost in translation occurrence. He thought he was doing the right thing. Honestly he did."
They had stopped walking with this last bit. Angel stood there, staring at her with a blank look. That look quickly changed into a murderous rage. To his credit, though, he did little more than stand there clenching and unclenching his fists.
She continued the speech she had prepared a little in her mind before hand. "I'm mad too, and he was wrong in every possible way, but you know what they say about the road to hell. Angel, please understand that he thought he was protecting her. Until recently, he was under the impression you were evil and the rest of us thought you were dead, including Buffy."
He finally found the ability to speak calmly. "Why tell me all this?"
"Because you need a starting place. I have a feeling that Buffy isn't going back to Europe. She's scared you don't want her because I haven't told her any of this yet. She knows there are letters, but she doesn't know how Giles found them. She's been too worried about you to ask many questions yet. I thought it would be better if it came from you. Please know, Angel, she never stopped loving you. Not for a second. You two need... you need to start over. Get to know each other again and I didn't think it would be fair for you guys to start with a handicap. You needed to know why she never answered those letters. She really never got them."
She reached into the bag that had been hanging by her hip. He hadn't thought much of it before now. Pulling out a manila envelope, she reached inside and handed him a stack of about a dozen unopened envelopes. Handing to them to Angel, there was a look of apology, even grief.
"I didn't know if you would want me to give them to her. I thought you should have them back. I'm so sorry, Angel."
He wordlessly took the stack of letters he had so painstakingly written over the years. He remembered writing them, being so careful about what he said. He had thought over the wording of how to tell her Will was alive for days. He especially remembered the pain of receiving no reply and the horrible reasons he had created in his mind to why this would happen. He had never imagined that she wasn't even getting them. Andrew's words about her not trusting him anymore had haunted him every time he mailed one of those letters. Over time, he had convinced himself those words were true.
"Thank you, Willow." Not knowing what else to say or do, he turned on his heels and headed to his office on the other side of the house. He needed time to think. Did he want her to have these? They were proof he tried. She didn't need proof, though, she would believe him if he told her he had sent them. He didn't want her to see the pain, the pleading tone of these letters. He had to admit that they became more desperate with each unanswered letter.
Towards the end, they had taken on an angry quality that he was unable to completely hide. Eventually, the last one had been despondent, he had insulted her, stated he didn't want her to answer and maybe she would be better off without him anyway. He definitely didn't want her to read these now. If they wanted a clean start, this was not it. This would be an awful way to start a new relationship.
He moved by habit, not with any conscious thought of where he was going. He could have been blind; he still would have found his way to where he was going. That was why he didn't see her until it was too late. Buffy was standing right in front of him and he had no where to put his hand that was holding the stack of envelopes. They would never fit in his pocket. He just managed to put his hands behind his back in a way that wasn't too suspicious when she spoke with a rather accusing tone.
"What was that all about? Willow did not want a tour." Her arms were crossed and her stance meant that she was in no mood to be lied to. Her hair was cascading over her shoulders and hint of lip gloss on her lips made them shine a little. The gears of his mind suddenly stopped turning and then exploded. He couldn't answer her in any kind of intelligent way when the only thing his mind was doing was focusing on what he could do those lips.
He mentally slapped himself and tried not to undress her with her eyes. He wasn't sure he was succeeding in not doing that.
Something in her eyes conveyed that she knew just what he was thinking, and that her thoughts weren't that much different. There was a passion behind her eyes that bespoke entirely different things than her posture or tone of voice.
Just when the sexual tension was so thick Angel thought he would choke on it, she reached out and touched his cheek. She still kept her distance. She was exactly an arm's length away, and she wasn't coming any closer. Her hand stayed where it was and neither moved for a few moments that stretched into eternity.
He was the first to shake himself out of whatever spell had occupied them. "She... wanted to talk."
"I know that. If it was an innocent conversation, she wouldn't have used lies to get you alone. So, it wasn't innocent. The only thing you two could be talking about is me. So spill."
"Maybe we weren't talking about you. Geese, you have a high opinion of yourself. Maybe we were talking about business. Maybe she wanted to tell me about the spy she's had in my company for three years."
The look on Buffy's face told him she didn't believe a word he said. "You knew about that spy. You would know about things like that. No, if she wanted to talk about that, she would have said 'let's go talk business,' or something like that. Instead, she lied. For my benefit, I'm sure."
"Uhh... she..."
"Angel! I have been lied to enough! Tell me what's going on!" Before he could answer, she was pacing fiercely, her voice rising with every word she said. "Everyone has been trying to run my life. I am so tired of everyone knowing better than me about my life!"
She realized that perhaps Angel was not the one she should be yelling at. Taking a deep breath, she refocused, and started to speak quieter. "Sorry. I'm a little sensitive right now." The look on her face was still expectant, though, and he knew he would have to have this conversation with her sooner than later.
"Let's go into the office."
Once they were inside, he steadied himself. She was not going to be happy. Before he started, though, he would have to find a place for the letters. He tried to subtly drop them into a desk drawer, but she was staring at his every move. Sliding the drawer closed, he looked at her with a mixture of trepidation and yearning. He suddenly wanted to tell her everything. He wanted to run away with her.
"Buffy... you're... not going to be happy. Those letters I sent you? They weren't lost in the mail." He rethought the sarcasm route, and was about to start over when she interrupted him.
"Who got them? I already figured out that someone was intercepting those purposefully. I don't think it was Willow, though I'm pretty sure it was someone on the Council. They don't much like you."
In her heart, she knew who was responsible. If she didn't say it loud, though, it hadn't really happened and the betrayal that was lurking right around the corner wouldn't consume her. She wanted him to agree with her and leave it at that, but she wanted him to tell her everything and accept her anger as well. He made the decision for her.
"Giles. He got them." He wanted to wait to say anymore. Gauging her reaction first was probably the best thing, he thought.
Buffy walked to the bay windows that faced out towards to gardens. She didn't want to believe it, but she was also sure the bundle of papers she had seen had been those letters. Willow must have picked them up from where Buffy had placed them, she reasoned. Was no one ever going to let her run her own life?
"I figured that." Her voice was low, raspy, and there were tears behind it. She would not cry, though, she had cried enough lately. It was time to be strong. Angel needed her, they could start over again. They could forget any of this had ever happened.
Turning to face him again, she straightened her back and contained the hurt that was threatening to overwhelm her. "What now? I'll deal with Giles later, before he leaves for England. What about us, though?"
"What do you want from me? I mean, where do you want to go from here?" There was no accusation or defensiveness in his tone, only questioning. He truly wanted to hear what she had to say before he offered his own opinion. He had to hear her say it first.
She hesitated only a moment, trying to find the words that were best. "I want to get to know you. You've changed so much. I mean, you're still my Angel; you couldn't change that much. But I want to know you. I have so many questions for you."
Talking was the last thing on his mind, but her answer had warmed his spirits in a way they hadn't been in a very long time. "I haven't changed that much."
He hesitated and started walking the perimeter of the room slowly. There were glass cases here and there with old tomes and statues. The row of bookcases behind the desk were filled with dusty volumes; things to precious to be kept in the main library. Most of the furnishings were antique, dug out of storage lockers across the country when he bought the house. Angel had always traveled light, but rarely discarded possessions.
He wanted to hold her, to kiss her, to do wonderful and delicious things to her and with her. There were things he wanted to tell her, and things he wanted to keep hidden from her forever. Shaking his head, he tried to reconcile the contradictions raging within him.
"Buffy, I want to be with you." He turned to face her, waiting for a response. Any response would be okay with him, he realized, he just needed her to say something.
"I want you too. I've never wanted anyone else." Standing stalk still, her mouth spoke the words her heart was screaming before her brain could venture a response. She wanted to run to him, but her legs were like lead, freezing her to where she stood.
His legs, however, were moving just fine. He was to her and had lifted her into his arms before she had a chance to react.
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Chapter 17
He set her back down on the desk top, ravaging her mouth with his own. Her hands grabbed at his shirt, tearing it from collar to navel. A growl escaped his throat as her shirt landed on the ground. He was about to rip her pants from her body when he pulled away.
"No. Not like this. Wait, Buffy." He tried to push her hands from chest, but she was having none of it.
Ripping the shirt the rest of the way off, she made quick work of his undershirt. Her hands explored his muscular chest, the sinews of his back, his gently rippled abs. Her urgency spurred him on and he forgot any plans or fantasies he had ever had about their reunion.
He wanted her nude. He wanted her naked body in front of him, in the sunlight, every inch of her exposed to his gaze and his hands and his lips. Removing her bra, he pulled her to him, so they were skin to skin. He wanted every inch of her, no encumbrances. She was following his lead quickly.
They were both naked and on the floor before either one had much of a chance to explore the other. Their love making was rushed, urgent. They were desperate for the other, desperate for a life raft to grab on to and never let go of.
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They had to let each other go after a time. Dressing leisurely, they teased each other softly. He had her in a fit of giggles by the time they were both dressed.
Grabbing his hair, she pulled his face to hers for a long kiss. "Next time, I get to make you scream. I'm an equal opportunity love maker."
His smile lit up his whole face. She hadn't seen it in so long, her breath caught now that she was. Before she could recover, he pulled her into a fierce hug. "I missed you. And I look forward to you taking the lead. And I'm hungry."
It was her turn to laugh. She took the fact that he wanted to eat as a very good sign of his improving health.
"They're going to know what we were doing in here, you know."
"I know. The whole of the hills probably heard you."
Playfully punching his arm, she reached for him and they started towards the door. For the first time in many years, Angel could finally admit to himself that he liked being happy. Yes, he thought, I could certainly get used to this.
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Chapter 18
Wesley sat next to Will on the couch. Angel was somewhere off with Willow, Buffy was stalking around the library, and the rest were off in the gardens, exploring the property.
Wes had been forced to rethink his idea of breaking into the house and taking a look at those files. With recent developments, there was no way he could get close to them. Rethinking his strategy to get a glance at that file had lead to one conclusion -- he had to confront Angel. The former Watcher did not look forward to this. Angel was notorious for reacting badly when faced with a question he didn't want to answer.
Looking at his friend next to him, he wondered if Will knew anything about the file. Angel had been quicker to confide in his fellow hybrid. Wes wasn't sure why this was, but he had a few ideas. They related well to each other, even though no one on else could antagonize them better than each other. They shared a dark past; they had seen each other do horrible things and both had gained a soul and a conscious. Of course, their shared history with Buffy was something they had in common but never talked about. At least in front of others, they didn't.
Will was cocking his head, a look of shock on his face when Wesley looked back at him.
"What?"
"They're goin' at it like bunnies in there! They could at least go a bedroom... I think my ears are going to start bleeding."
Wesley was shocked. From what he had gathered, Angel and Buffy had been cool towards each other at best. He couldn't help but he happy, though. Angel needed this, he thought. Angel needed someone to love, completely and utterly. He wasn't very good at being alone.
Standing, he wondered if they would leave the office. If the couple went upstairs to continue their tryst, Wes would have an opening for at least a little while. No one could keep Angel's attention like Buffy. Maybe he didn't have to confront the man after all.
"Are you going to tell me what's going on, or am I going to find out later, when everyone else does?" Will's eyes were boring into Wes' own.
Wes remembered Will's transformation from Spike. It had gone about as well as Angel's transition to being human, or close to it, at least. A few days after they had gained the ability to breathe, Will had shaved his head and declared no one was to call him Spike anymore. Angel had commented to Wes that he was surprised the name change hadn't happened when Will had first gained a soul.
Because his soul was a vital part of him, not an interloper taking up space inside of him, Will had felt he was actually a person. That feeling had forced him to admit his guilt, the ravishing nightmares that plagued him, the faces of his victims he saw every day. Will had revealed to Wes that it was easier to ignore those things when he thought that having a soul was a thing he had done to impress a girl. Now, his soul was him, he was his soul. They could no more be separated than Wes could from him. Death was the only thing that could accomplish such a separation. Knowing this made Will rethink his life and its course.
The fact that Will knew he was mortal, was going to age and die like other men certainly had something to do with it as well. It was his last chance at life, and he was determined to make the most of it.
At least he isn't bald anymore, Wes conceded. He was still annoying and had a habit of unearthing things that he shouldn't, but that was precisely why Angel had made him Vice President of the company. It was difficult to lie to Will.
"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about."
"See, that's how I know you're lying. You always go all proper English on people when you want to avoid things. Spill, now, or I'll find out on my own and neither one of us wants that, do we?"
Wes knew what that meant. That meant Will would go to Angel after he did a lot of digging. And when Will started digging, he always found something. "There is a file only Angel has access to..." Will didn't let him finish.
"The Connor file. I know." Seeing Wes's surprised look, he smiled. "What, did you think I was just another pretty face? I'm more than eye candy in that office, you know. I know about that file and I also wager I know a few things you don't. For instance, Lilah used that file to get Angel to work for Wolfram and Hart. That was the original reason he joined the company."
The shocked look on Wes' face told Will all he needed to know. Wes had no idea what was in that file, and Will wasn't sure he should be the one to tell him. But Will also knew how Wes operated; Wes had a plan to get that file. Wes always planned, he was more of a schemer and conniver than Will was, and spoke volumes in and of itself.
"It's a blackmail file. Full of nasty little secrets Angel would like to keep hidden forever. He's not going to let that file out of his sight anytime soon. Let it go, Wes." Even as he said it, Will knew his words meant next to nothing. Wes was almost as stubborn as Angel. Still, though, at least he knew he tried. And he hadn't even lied that much; Wes didn't need to know the file only held one secret.
"What kind of things could Angel what hidden that much? I know most everything he did as Angelus. What's worse than that?" Wes's curiosity was now more peaked than ever. Not only did he want to know what that file contained because he was sure it had something to do with Angel's depression, he wanted to know to satisfy an innate and burning need to know what could possibly be so bad that Angel would hide it from his best friends, his family.
Will immediately recognized his mistake. Wes looked like a panther stalking his prey, now. He was being subtle about it, but the predatory gleam in his eyes couldn't be entirely hidden. "You don't need to know. It's embarrassing and private."
Wes kept pushing and Will knew he was going to have to throw the man a bone, at least in order to satiate him for the time being. Will was now just biding his time, preventing the inevitable. Hopefully, he thought, he'd be able to talk to Angel about this before Wes could pull a Mission Impossible and swipe that file.
"Wes, you don't want to know, and I shouldn't be the one to tell you. That being said... it's stuff to do with Angelus. Stuff that never made it into the text books. Private stuff. There's things about his relationships with Darla, with me, things like that."
"You? What about you?"
Wes didn't look even half way convinced. Will quickly thought of something that was horrible enough to put Wes off for a little while, and which was also basically true. "We got drunk together a lot. Drunken soulless straight males experiment. So... draw your own conclusions and never tell him I told you that."
Wes stood very still, hoping he had heard Will incorrectly. Deciding he had not, he turned and went towards the kitchen in hopes of finding beer in the fridge. Will smiled, knowing that Wes would be put off for a few days. The idea of he and Angel gay together would be enough to make Wes rethink his dedication to finding the information. And it amused Will in no small way to know what Wes was thinking and that Angel would be furious and highly embarrassed to know Will had let that bit of history be known. Will suppressed the urge to release an evil cackle.
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Chapter 19
They sneaked through the back hallways of the house; halls that were built by someone for servants over a hundred years after that kind of architecture had been popular. Angel was glad for them, though, and it was one of the reasons he had bought the mansion. They looked rumpled, Buffy's hair was all over the place, and his undershirt was crooked, the remnants of his sweater in his hands. None of it mattered, though. All that mattered was getting upstairs without being seen. The thought of food had been forgotten after they had started kissing again. They had gotten about halfway undressed again before Angel had stopped Buffy's eager hands and motioned to go upstairs. He didn't want to deal with anyone right now save the woman who was unfortunately clothed and standing behind him.
"I need to shower. We should shower. Together." She emphasized the last word just in case he had missed her meaning.
"I'm not opposed to that." Turning his head just enough so that she saw the wicked grin on his face, he picked up his pace a little.
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Angel didn't know if he wanted food or sleep, the last few hours had drained him and he was still not one hundred percent recovered. As content as he was, he had to admit that he was lightheaded and his stomach was doing some flip-flopping. He barely registered Buffy speaking to him as he climbed into bed. His hair was wet, and the rest of him wasn't much drier, but he was asleep nearly immediately after he closed his eyes.
Buffy laughed. Well, she thought, now I know it was good. She was worried though. The last time she had ever seen Angel sick, the only time, was when he had been poisoned. She had almost died saving him then. A sad grin came to her lips but quickly transformed into a full fledged smile. This kind of healing was a lot more fun than being drained of blood. Yes, she thought, if this is what I have to do to be his personal nurse, sign me up now.
She watched the rise and fall of his back for a few minutes. He was lying on his stomach, exposing the entirety of the back of him to her gaze. She took that view in for a long time. His legs and backside were so well crafted, she thought. Will had told her that he trained everyday, no matter what, usually in the early mornings. It showed. Even super human people didn't naturally look as good as he did at that moment.
She wanted to sleep a little, curl up next to him, but she felt bad that she had distracted him from his original mission of food. The least she could do was have something waiting for him when he woke up. Making her way to the kitchen, she saw Wes digging through the fridge, muttering about sobriety and beer. Will was sitting on the couch with a look that told her he was up to no good.
Buffy wasn't sure what to do about Will. She had to correct herself every time she thought of or spoke to him. She didn't know if she would ever get used to him not being Spike. He was very much changed. Will was mature, articulate, and seemingly selfless. A lot of qualities that may have been present back in Sunnydale, but had certainly been muted.
She knew that Angel knew of her previous relationship with Will, but she doubted they would have talked about it in great detail. Yet, it didn't seem to affect what was obviously a deep friendship between them. That was what was most surprising to her. She had always thought of two men as hating each other. This was a far cry from what she had seen previously of their interaction. They actually seemed very devoted to each other.
Approaching Will, she smiled cautiously. "Can we talk? I want to make Angel something to eat, but can I talk to you while I do that?"
"Of course." He immediately stood, going into the kitchen with Buffy. Dorita would be in tomorrow, he knew, and would be thrilled to see that the fridge was not as full as she had left it. Actually, she would probably have to go to the store tomorrow instead of in the middle of the week, as was her habit.
To Buffy's surprise, Wes sat at the table, clearly not ready to move, and Will started helping her cook. She realized that she had no idea what Angel liked to eat, or how he liked his food prepared. Will was infinitely more knowledgeable about that.
Will had an inkling of what Buffy wanted to talk about, and had given Wesley a very subtle hand motion that meant to stay put. He wasn't yet ready to talk to her about what he thought she wanted to talk about.
"He likes his meat well done, which makes sense. Vegetables crisp, spicy is good, sweet and sour isn't his favorite, ice cream is a food group for him, and pasta is a major staple. Any kind of sauce will do. He's spoiled, really, we eat out a lot, and not at Burger King, if you know what I mean. Really, though, he'll like anything you make him, because it's you making it."
She took all of that in, trying to remember it all and realizing that her tastes were very similar to Angel's, other than the sweet and sour thing, but she figured she could live with that. The two started preparing a roast to go into the oven. Will seemed to know what he was doing, and relegated Buffy to chopping and following directions. She had never been the best cook, anyway, so his direction was greatly appreciated.
Clearing her throat, she decided it was time to talk to him just at the time when the roast went into the oven. "Will, umm... are things okay between us?"
He stopped what he was doing and considered the question. He didn't think this was where the conversation was heading. "Buffy, I didn't think we were ever not okay. I mean, I know I wasn't very friendly when I first saw you, and I'm sorry about that, I was under... well, anyway, it doesn't matter any more. I hope we can be friends. I mean, I care about you a lot."
"That's why I ask. It doesn't seem to affect you and Angel, our past, I mean. I wanted to know if things were going to okay between you two now that I'm here. It won't be awkward, will it?"
He laughed. This was what was worrying her? "My relationship with Angel," he paused just long enough to glance Wes, he wanted to make sure his choice of phrasing hadn't been missed, "is strong enough to withstand most things the universe could throw at us. I always knew I was a place holder for him." Seeing her about to refute his statement, he held his hands up in a motion to stop her and continued.
"It's okay, Buffy. No hard feelings. We needed what we needed at the time and it worked out well in the end even if I couldn't appreciate that back then. You always loved him, I never denied that. He's my friend, a great friend, and I... well, I love both of you and I want to see you happy. You and I could never work out because you're not in love with me. Be with the man you love and don't worry about the rest."
She was stunned. He had always been sensitive, honest to a fault, but se hadn't expected all that. "Will, I... thank you. And I do love you. I just... don't love you like I love him. If that makes any sense."
"We're okay, you and Angel are okay, everyone is okay. Life is looking up. Stop worrying about me; I'm as resourceful as a cockroach. Worry about the man who needs it most. He's got a long road ahead of him, even now."
Buffy thanked him and excused herself, saying she had left something in Angel's office. From the look on Wes's and Will's face, they were probably thinking it was her underwear.
She walked back towards the office, thinking it strange that she hadn't seen Willow, Dawn or Xander since breakfast. So much had happened since then, she thought. And she hadn't seen Giles in a couple days. She wasn't sure she wanted to see him. Buffy didn't want her suspicions confirmed, it hurt too much. Ignorance was bliss, she decided.
Sitting in his chair, she opened the drawer she had saw him dump the letters in and pulled them out. Taking a steadying breath, she found the one with the oldest post date and opened it. She wanted to know just what she had missed.
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Chapter 20
Angel woke peacefully for the first time in a long time. Stretching, a lazy smile curved his lips. He could smell food from downstairs, and for the first time in a long time he actually wanted to eat whatever it was. Turing on his side, he frowned a little to find Buffy was not next to him. Dressing quickly, he made his way downstairs with a bounce in his step.
Will greeted him with a devilish smile. "Hey sleeping beauty."
"No comments from the peanut gallery, please."
"I'm just happy you're finally getting some. Hey, we made dinner. Fred and Gunn are on their way over. Xander and Willow took Dawn into the city for a while, something about Christmas presents. They'll be back soon. We'll eat in an hour."
Wes was smiling at him, but the smile looked a little uncomfortable. Angel realized the only member of wither group Will hadn't mentioned was Giles. It was probably a good thing he wasn't coming. Angel didn't know if he could handle it. Just at that moment, the older English man stepped through the sliding doors into the living room from the patio.
Angel's breath caught. His first instinct was to hit him until he looked like raw meat, but Buffy was somewhere in the house and she didn't know of Giles' involvement. The thought of her feelings being hurt stayed Angel's hand.
Turning with an angry glare at Wes, his words were dripping with venom when he spoke. "What's he doing here?"
"I'm here to..."
"I didn't ask you." Angel spoke with a fierce anger but he kept his voice down.
"Angel, wait, don't be too mad. He showed up about an hour ago and we got to talking. Just listen to what the man has to say." Wesley's calm demeanor soothed Angel's ruffled feathers just enough for him to look at Giles and be quiet.
Taking that as his cue, Giles started in a low and slow manner, taking his time and choosing his wording very carefully. "I came to apologize. My actions were inexcusable, unforgivable. I am aware of that, and yet I am going to ask your forgiveness. I was trying to act in Buffy's best interest. My... overlooking the fact that she is no longer a fifteen year old was... stupid. I'm sorry, Angel."
Angel didn't contain his anger very well. "You almost ruined my life! Buffy's life! The time we've lost, the time we could have been together, we'll never get that back! I don't have forever, anymore, Giles! I want to make the most of what time I have on this Earth, and you almost stole the woman I love away from me! Do you think an 'I'm sorry' can ever make up for that?"
Seeing the larger man's heaving shoulders, and hearing his voice laden heavily with emotion made Giles swallow the lump he felt forming in his throat. He took a minute to compose his words before he spoke again. "I acted out of love. I had no intention of things turning out this way. I meant no ill will, Angel."
He heard the truth of Giles' words, knew he spoke them from his heart, but Angel wasn't yet ready to kiss and make up. He needed time to sort through his own feelings before he could respond to Giles.
"Where's Buffy. I can't talk about this anymore."
"She went to your office a little before Giles arrived. I thought it would be best not to make her aware of his presence until you had talked to him. She's till back there, I think."
The color drained from Angel's face. He knew exactly what she had been doing the past hour. The little sneak, she never left anything alone, did she, he thought. Turning quickly, he had to fight to keep his legs from running.
Throwing the door open, he stopped short of the threshold. She was sitting in his chair, tears running in rivers down her face. She was on the last letter. A box of tissues had been emptied, the remnants strewn in and around the garbage can. He could see that some of his words were smeared from her tears.
Staying quiet, he moved into the room and closed the door. He had no illusions that she hadn't heard him, but he would wait for her to acknowledge him before he spoke. Thinking of refutes, of apologies, he tried to recall every word he had ever written to her. Would she be mad? Would she forgive him for accusing her of neglecting him, of acting immaturely, callously? He had said hurtful things because he was hurt. Would she understand that, he wondered.
When she finished, she set the letter down, touching it as if it were precious parchment that could turn to dust with careless handling. Her eyes burned. Two lines into the first letter, the hope and love she had felt in his words had caused her tears. Tears for what could have been, absolutely, but mostly tears because she knew what that hope would later turn into. She already knew the ending of this book.
The rest of the letters had caused her to sob, some had caused her to laugh in certain places, but mostly, she had wept. It wasn't until the seventh letter that he had become defensive. He had tried to defend his decision to join the ranks of Wolfram and Hart. He defended Will, he defended Wesley. Somewhere in the tenth letter he had started to attack her and her friends. By the twelfth and final letter, he had been despondent, even accepting of the fact that she wanted nothing to do with him.
The transition from innocent and wide eyed hope, his idea of what their future could hold, to the acceptance of her hatred for him caused her to flinch internally. The torture he had undergone... it was unfathomable. He had truly convinced himself that she had rejected him, lost trust and faith him.
Making eye contact with him was difficult. He saw her struggle and immediately felt his heart ache. She wouldn't forgive him. She could never overlook the horrible things he had assumed, the accusations he had made. She was finally going to see through him. She would see him for the man he really was, a sham, a good for nothing. Inside, he known it all along, but he didn't think he could bear to hear it from her.
Before she could speak, he was out the door and running through the back halls to the servants exit. He was running at break neck speed, he had run five mornings a week for three years. She would never catch him. He chose the fastest car he had and peeled out of the garage once the door had raised enough for the car to squeeze through. He was around the corner before Buffy made it the garage, her shorter legs carrying her as fast as they could go.
She was shocked. She knew what had caused him to run. He still believed in what he had written in that last letter. He believed that deep down she could never love him. Actually, she reflected, he believed that no one could ever love him; he thought was despicable, unlovable in the most awful ways. Cursing at the top of her lungs, she ran into the house through the front doors. Giles, Wesley and Will were sitting in the living room.
She didn't notice the moisture in Giles's eyes or the comforting hand Will had on her former mentor's shoulders. Buffy saw nothing but a blinding red hatred. She was on top of Giles, her fists moving back and forth before anyone could grab her. Even with his strength, Will had trouble restraining her. Wesley picked Giles up off the floor by the back of his collar and basically threw him across the room, increasing the distance between him and the incredibly furious slayer.
"Buffy, stop! Please, Buffy, listen to us!" Will was trying with all his might to contain her fury, but she threw him over her shoulder, sending him crashing hard to the floor in front of her. The air rushed from his lungs as he watched Buffy leap over his prone form. Wesley intercepted her before she could reach Giles.
"Buffy!" Before he could continue, Buffy flattened him to the ground with a hard hit to his abdomen.
"Don't ever tell me to listen to you! I'm tired of listening to everyone else about my life! Giles, how could you?" She was sobbing, huge racking sobs shaking her entire body. Her fists were still clenched, her body coiled with tension, ready to strike at anything around her.
"I'm so sorry, Buffy." His voice was a whisper, filled with aguish. Tears were now freely flowing down his face. He had no shame to feel anymore, he had used it all already.
She saw his pain, recognized the truth in his words. Still, she couldn't keep herself from hating him in that instant. The emotional drain she had experienced from reading Angel's letters and his subsequent hasty exit finally took their toll and she collapsed heavily on the couch.
Sobbing into her hands, she wasn't sure what to do with her anger. She wanted to scream, to run until her legs couldn't carry her anymore, to kick a whole through every wall in the house. She did none of these things. Her body refused to move, and she sat there, weeping for her own pain and for that of the man she loved.
Strong arms wrapped tentatively around her. They grew surer and soon were holding her in a tight embrace. She felt the steady shaking of the man holding her. She wanted to push Giles away, tell him to go to hell, curse until she had no breath, but instead she let him hold her, and turned to sob into his chest.
He whispered apologies in her ear. He tried to explain himself but found he didn't have enough words. They sat there for a long time, trying to expend their sorrow. It would take much longer for either one to do that.
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