This is the PG-13 version of this installment. If you want to read the R-rated version (and are of age to do so), go here.
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Home Before Dark - Part Six
by Debbie Nockels
COPYRIGHT: January 2002
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the characters from BTVS or ANGEL. They're owned by Joss Whedon (who needs to treat them nicer), MutantEnemy, Kuzui, Sandollar, David Greenwalt, the WB, UPN, Fox, etc.
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������ Buffy peered around her. Yes, this was the room she'd seen in her dream. She looked to her right, unsurprised to see glass doors opening into the bedroom. And there was the same bed, although these sheets weren't blue.
������ "Is something wrong?" Angel asked when she didn't answer. Just as he was about to go to her, she came into the bedroom and sat on the side of the bed closest to him. The curtains were drawn over the nearest window, the one next to the bed, but others remained uncovered and the moonlight streaming in through them provided more than enough light for them to see by. In the darkness, with her blonde hair and fair skin and only a thin nightgown covering her, she looked like a wraith. A beautiful, fragile, desirable wraith. His mouth grew dry.
������ "I had a dream tonight," she said without preamble, and proceeded to tell him about it. In detail. Completely forgetting her state of near undress, Angel opened his mouth more than once during the telling, but each time shut it again without saying a word. Buffy hid a smile at the stupefied expression on his face.
������ "Is that the way it happened?" she asked at the conclusion.
������ Angel opened and shut his mouth again, then nodded. Clearing his throat, he said, "Uh, yeah. Mostly."
������ "Mostly?" Buffy cocked her head.
������ "Uh, there were a few things that got left out." Angel realized where that might lead ("You gave yourself over so completely, Angelus.. I felt you surrender.") and added hastily, "Tiny, unimportant details that . . . aren't important, so I don't know why I even mentioned them." By the look on her face, Buffy wasn't buying it, but she didn't press the point. Angel relaxed and tried to think clearly, which wasn't easy with the confusion clouding his brain. Why would Buffy have dreamt about that dark time? Absently he pushed the pillows behind his back and scooted farther up in the bed.
������ "Tell me about your epiphany," Buffy then said. "I mean, what exactly was it? You suddenly realized that boinking another vampire didn't solve anything, or what?"
������ "Not exactly." Angel stared into space, remembering. "I woke up in pain, like I said earlier - I still don't know why - but then after the pain passed I had this big revelation. Darla was standing there smiling at me, talking about hot, fresh blood - and it just hit me. I suddenly understood that if there is no great, magnificent ending to all this, that if nothing we do matters, then what we do is all that matters. Because that's all there is, and if there's no larger meaning then the smallest act of kindness is the biggest thing in the world. And I knew I wanted to help."
������ "Sounds like an epiphany to me," Buffy agreed.
������ Angel smiled. "That's what Kate said."
������ "Kate?" Buffy raised an inquiring eyebrow.
������ Angel took a deep breath. "Kate is . . . well, she's a really long story but I'll try to condense it. She was a cop and we sort of worked together a few times. You know, her giving me information and me killing the demons. Sometimes I would give her information on human evildoers. But one day she found out I'm a vampire and she freaked . . . and then her father was killed by vamps."
������ Buffy winced. "Ouch."
������ "Yeah." Sadness flitted across his face. "For a long time Kate . . . wasn't very fond of me, to put it mildly."
������ "But that changed?" prompted Buffy.
������ Angel nodded. "After I woke up with Darla . . . Do you remember the voice on the phone when I came into the hotel that night?"
������ She remembered it well. "That was her?"
������ He nodded again. "Yes. Something Darla said made me remember it, and I knew Kate was in trouble. I raced over to her apartment and found her passed out on the floor, with pills and booze scattered everywhere. I dragged her into the bathroom, stuck my finger down her throat to make her vomit, then stood with her in a cold shower for what seemed like an hour, until she revived."
������ "So you saved her life." Buffy breathed a quiet sigh of relief. "And she was grateful and forgave you for being a vampire."
������ Angel gave a little laugh. "She said, 'Thank you. Now get out.'"
������ "Huh?" Then Buffy recalled the details of Kate's phone call. "Why did she try to kill herself, Angel? Not just because she was upset with you?"
������ Angel looked away. "She'd been fired from the LAPD that day - because of me. Because by knowing me and my world, she'd bent rules and done things they could no longer ignore. They offered her psychological counseling and they fired her."
������ Buffy couldn't think of anything to say to that. Finally she reached out and touched his arm. "I'm sorry."
������ To her surprise, Angel smiled. "Actually, this story has a fairly happy ending. The next day Kate called me. I went over and we sat on the stoop and had a long talk. She pointed out something I hadn't even noticed - that she had never invited me into her apartment." A look almost of awe crossed his face.
������ "But you went inside," Buffy said blankly.
������ Angel nodded. "Yes."
������ "But - but that's impossible. Isn't it?"
������ "It's supposed to be," Angel said quietly. "I've never heard of anything like that happening before." Buffy was silent for long moments, just gazing at him. He could almost see the thoughts churning behind her eyes, but he couldn't read them. Finally he said, "What are you thinking?"
������ She said slowly, "I'm thinking that there's so much about you that's miraculous, Angel. For starters, you shouldn't even exist. Giles told me once that there's no record in the Council records of there ever before being a vampire with a soul, and you know how long those records have been around."
������ Angel nodded. "Thousands of years."
������ "You have a soul. You want to help people. You came close to joining the dark side, but were saved at the last minute. You were able to enter a human dwelling without an invitation." She paused. "The Powers That Be must have a very special plan for you."
������ "You forgot the most important miracle of all," Angel said softly. Their eyes met, and he knew she understood his meaning. He picked up her hand from where it still lay on his arm, turned it over and kissed her palm. "You."
������ "Us," Buffy corrected just as softly. "We're the miracle, or our love is. And I do love you, Angel. I never stopped loving you. Riley was just . . . well, he was really nice and all, and when I was with him I was able to not think of you all the time." Her smile was rueful. "Except that deep down you were always there, with me. He was my last-ditch effort to have a normal life."
������ "I understand," Angel assured her, despite the ache he felt every time he thought of her with the tall, handsome young soldier. "And Darla was - "
������ "I know," she interrupted. And Angel knew, with humble gratitude, that she truly did understand how the aberration with Darla happened, and that it never would again. He kissed her hand again and heard her breath catch. It grew very quiet. Slowly, almost fearfully, Angel looked up.
������ Their eyes met. Buffy was suddenly aware that Angel was bare-chested and that she was sitting on his bed only inches away from him. Not that she hadn't noticed before that he wasn't wearing a top, it was just that she'd been too focused on the dream for it to sink in. Now, however, the silver moonlight emphasized the quietly-muscled planes of his chest, picked out the hollow in his throat and displayed the thin line of hair that started just below his belly button and disappeared beneath the sheet. Briefly she wondered whether he preferred pyjama bottoms or just boxers. Or, maybe. . . .
������ She swallowed, wondering when the room had turned so warm. The pulse in her neck was throbbing in time to the beating of her heart, and she was very conscious of Angel's closeness. She tried to say his name, but nothing came out. Slowly, gazes locked, they leaned forward. Their lips touched and they kissed, softly, hesitantly . . . with a kind of reverence, but also with a love so intense it made them tremble.
������ Buffy ached with wanting to wrap her arms around Angel's neck and feel his cool skin against hers, but she restrained herself. She needed to prove to him that she too was able to "handle it," as he'd assured her he could when he came to Sunnydale - God, was it only four days ago? More important, he needed to be reassured that she wouldn't push the boundaries of his control - that it was safe for them to be together.
������ When they finally drew apart, tears spilled down Buffy's face. Angel's lashes were also wet. They gazed at each other with heartache in their eyes, then Buffy forced herself to stand up. Her throat was so tight she wasn't sure she could speak, but she managed to tell him "Good night," even though it came out in a thin whisper and her lips trembled.
������ Angel gave a slight nod. His throat worked for a second, then his "Good night" emerged, also in a whisper. Silently he followed her with his eyes as she glided out of his bedroom and across the floor of the sitting room . . . as she opened the suite door and left without a glance. He hunched over, head bowed. God! He wanted to scream out his rage and frustration and grief that the person he loved more than anything in the world was forbidden to him, but the iron control so painfully learned over the past century snapped into place, and the only sound to escape his lips was a muffled groan that was half a sob.
������ He shut his eyes, teeth clenched, while he rode out the wave of emotion sweeping through him. After it subsided he lay back, close to tears again but at the same time strangely content. As difficult as it had been to be so near to Buffy, with both of them half-undressed, and not be able to do more than kiss, still it was reassuring to know that they had both passed the test. It boded well for the future. In the meantime . . .
������ His hand slid beneath the sheet. In the meantime he could comfort himself with his memories - and his imagination. Angel shut his eyes.
������ Buffy huddled beneath the sheets of her bed, the tears still falling. Maybe if she didn't recall exactly how it had been, making love with Angel three years ago, it wouldn't hurt so much now. But she did remember, every second of it. She remembered the look in his eyes when he saw her naked for the first time . . . the touch of his hands on her breasts, and the way her body had responded . . . the sensations she'd never experienced before. She remembered the ache of pure need that had surprised her with its intensity . . . the same ache she was now feeling.
������ She reached beneath the sheet.
It was at least half an hour before she slept again.
END OF PART SIX
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