[ oh good, round two, he can't help but think snarkily as he reads her text, but then blows out a deep breath. if she says it's not about them, then...
in person. in private. because the last time he saw her wasn't hard enough, and that was while he was still in shock over what he'd done, what he'd given up, and they'd been standing an entire office apart with a desk between them.
he has no idea what to say to any of that, besides: ]
( this is a horrible, terrible and incredibly stupid idea and she knows it. meeting him in person. meeting him at his apartment! but she also knows she can't jeopardize anyone hearing what she has to tell him.
and because she can't stop herself from wanting to see him. even if it mightwill hurt more in the long run.
in true Buffy fashion she's five minutes late, despite coming from her own housing a few floors up and already being dressed; also in true Buffy fashion (mini skirt, tank top, sweater and boots. the cross he'd given her years ago hanging around her neck like it has since she arrived.
the moment she's outside the door she can feel him. the familiar and distinctive hum that drums in her veins whenever he's around. it's a comfort, knowing even here she's able to tell he's nearby. with a deep breath she lifts her hand and goes to knock. only to stop when thee door pulls opens before she gets a chance. pulling with it all the air from her lungs because God, she's missed him.
digging her heels into the ground she keeps herself from rushing to embrace him. instead, offering a nervous smile and an awkward, )
[ he's not terribly surprised when the designated fifteen minutes passes and there's no Buffy. he smiles a little to himself, before wincing, realizing he's already falling back on his 'Sunnydale denial' ways, now that they're both in the same place again. and she still thinks they could be together. or would, if he hadn't already told her they broke up. honestly, if he'd realized they weren't from the same time from the beginning, he wouldn't have said anything. he could've pretended...
no, that wouldn't have been fair, on either of them. but god, he kind of wishes it were the case, anyway. he's selfish, and he'll be the first one to admit it. if this place is going to be so awful, what's the harm in pretending, for as long as he can, that...
"what's the harm," of course, is one of the reasons he broke up with her in the first place. a slippery slope of 'this is alright', and the road to hell--or rather, Angelus--being paved with good intentions. his intentions aren't even that good.
while he waits, Angel makes a network post asking about where to procure blood for a vampire. he's getting some... interesting responses, when he shivers, glancing toward the door, even though there's been no knock yet.
he's over to it and opening the door before she announces herself, but he can't help it. he stares at her, like an oasis to a man dying of heat and thirst. the cross on her neck is a familiar, even welcome ache, because that's his. it's not his mark on her neck, but it draws a similar reaction from him.
he can't help the answering, small smile, even if there's a little bit of ache in that, too, at her greeting. ]
Buffy. Hi.
[ it takes another couple seconds before he steps back, holding the door open. ]
( oh, she's seen his network post as she was riding down on the elevator to get to him. the device is a permanent fixture in her hand. be it at home, at work or anywhere else, she's constantly checking the network. combing through it for what people are up to. for notifs of new arrivals or about others having gone home.
now that he's here it's more reason to stalk the network. wanting to know what he's up to. just because they aren't on speaking terms, this instance aside, and the knowledge he might have cut her out of his life back home ─ they're both still very much a part of the other's when shes from. and try as she might (she hasn't tried at all) she can't shut her feelings off like the flick of a switch.
his smile, like always, eases her. has the tension melting from her with every muscle in her body relaxing. like him, she stares, too. taking in the sight of him like it very well may be her last. while trying to see if there are any changes to him. and there's not. not any that she can physically see.
snapping herself out of the obvious staring, and longing at that, she nods and steps inside. )
I'd say nice place but... ( she huffs out the quietest of laughs, glancing around. it's exactly the same as every other apartment she's been to in the Up housing. not a touch of his taste anywhere. at least not yet. ) It's no different than the one they gave Faith, or where I live. ( then she remembers it could be worse for him. ) I'm glad you're here, in the Up, though. The alternative... ( she shakes her head, turning to face him and shrugs. ) Let's just say the Down makes even the shadiest parts of Sunnydale look like...well, somewhere way more fancy. ( she spent the better part of a month there, until she had enough and made the decision to ask Jean for a contract. )
But talking interior design isn't why I came here. ( she adds seriously, waiting for him to settle somewhere before she takes a seat; the furthest away from where he sits. )
[ even as he wanders after her, body shifting away, he can't stop watching her, neck shifting so he can glance past his shoulder at her as she wanders around, comments on the apartment. ]
I think the living arrangements would be the least of my worries, if I were marked a submissive. [ he glances at her neck, this time specifically at the black line she's been marked with. It makes him irrationally angry, and it's irrational, selfish jealousy; not even on her behalf, but because she has the city's mark on her throat, but not his own.
that's Angelus, but Angel can't help but agree with the demon's feelings.
at her rather obvious segue, he waits for a moment expectantly, before he realizes she wants him to sit down first. not something he's used to doing, sitting before a lady in the room. he was a lout as a human, but he was raised with manners.
taking a seat in one of the chairs, he watches her. ]
Right. Not a social call. [ he can't quite hold back the bitterness in his voice, but frankly it's a lot less than he expected to come out, and - to him, at least - it's clear that it's mostly all self-directed. ]
( his comment makes her go quiet as she silently questions why she hasn't had much issue with her designation. how it's come relatively easy for her to fit into the role. it's not like she doesn't have an issue with it, because she does. so many issues with the whole system. but nowhere near as much as she probably should.
especially considering, ) It hasn't been too bad for me. ( notwithstanding the end of her first month, where she'd been sent to the SLUT center and drugged, it's an honest answer. she doesn't need to look at him to know where his eyes travel to and she reacts all the same; her fingers skim over the mark starting just under her chin before skating across her clavicle and behind her neck to scratch nervously. ) I'm pretending it's like being grounded. Can't do this, can't buy that. ( something she doesn't expect him to understand. )
Only worse. Much, much worse thanks to the perversity of it all. But it helps I have a contract with someone I trust. Someone who doesn't expect anything along the lines the city makes a requirement. ( she can't help but to meet his eyes when she says it, searching to see if there's relief in her admittance ─ in case he was wondering if her contract had any sexual requirements. ) She has kids back home.
( with him picking a chair she moves to the sofa, taking the spot directly across from him. and no sooner does she sit, thinking they can be civil with one another does his tone turn sharp. two minutes. a new record!
and, of course, she can't help herself from returning some of the bite. ) And who's fault is... ( she raises a hand, ready to point a finger at him accusingly but instantly curls her fingers instead, clenching her hand into a fist and bites her tongue. though it's not clear to her it's self-directed, she isn't going to argue with him. not right now. )
Look. ( she sighs, folding her hands together in her lap in a sort of surrender. see? she can be mature! ) I came because a friend, who happens to be a witch─ ( and a werewolf and a vampire, stays with her for now. ) ─offered me something, months ago, that I think you could use. A ring. Not just any ring, though. It's a daylight ring. It'll allow you to go out in the sun without worrying about the ultimate sunburn. But it's if you want it. ( pressing her lips together she waits, watching as it sinks in before adding, ) Since you have to be there for the spell.
[ despite her personality, Angel isn't that surprised that it hasn't been that hard for Buffy to be designated a submissive, and all that it entails. despite being the slayer, she's used to being told what to do, who to go after. she puts her own creative flair on things, but when she wants to buck authority, she knows how to do it without getting in trouble; like that time she was grounded, and they made out at her window, not technically breaking the rules. (which is awkward not only remembering back then, but also that Buffy goes on to comment that it's like being grounded.) ]
It's mine. [ he says it calmly, if sadly, and holds her gaze, hoping she can see that he knows, understands the position he's put them in.
surprisingly - or maybe not - at the mention of a ring letting him go out in the daylight, Angel's first thought isn't the ring of amara. instead, it's walking along a pier, approaching Buffy, embracing her, leaning down...
the deep, unnecessary breath he takes to banish that memory is shaky, and he has to look down, fidgeting a little with his fingers until he can get ahold of himself. it's only then that he remembers the ring of amara, and destroying it so others wouldn't come after him for it. when he looks up, his expression is slightly worried. ]
I know there are different kinds of vampires around here--this thing just lets me walk in the sun? It doesn't--make me invincible, or anything, right? Nobody's gonna come after me to try and steal it?
[ he also remembers what he told Doyle - another wrenching ache in his chest - that people in the daylight already had the whole world out there to save them; he was there to protect the people others forgot, in the dark.
but there's nobody here to protect. no mission, no helping the hopeless. they're all hopeless, here, and nobody's going to help them except themselves. the city really is set up perfectly, if it's looking for selfishness and depravity. ]
( she does exactly as he hopes; meeting his gaze. but there's no smug triumph in her expression at Angel admitting he's the reason they're in this (mutually painful) situation. no matter how angry she is at him (and she is, because she doesn't yet grasp why he did ─ will do it), she doesn't feel any joy or satisfaction in knowing he's miserable. more than anything she wants to cross the small space between them and comfort him.
only she can't. but more than that, she won't. while he might've set the boundaries, she'll respect them.
keeping to her spot on the sofa, her gaze stays glued on him, watching his reaction. but before he can stare at his hands, which he twists almost nervously, Buffy recognizes the look on his face. Angel's lost himself in thought; in memories. whether they're ones from his past and her future, or a past they've both experienced together, she'll never know. she isn't brave enough to outright ask him what he's thinking about. not on the off chance it's something they haven't yet shared for her and it'll only break her heart more. whatever it is, though, it's heavy. she can see it in his eyes when he finally lifts his gaze to hers again. )
Invincible? ( she gives him a perplexed look, wondering what ring he's talking about, then shakes her head. ) No. It's not some kind of one ring to rule them all deal. So no one will come after you for it. You just can't tell anyone where you got it from. ( she presses, before gently adding, ) Not that you would.
I just... I thought if you're going to be stuck here, forced into a situation... ( whether she means being trapped in Duplicity in general, or trapped in a city with her, she doesn't clarify. ) ...you can't get out of, that this might make it a little easier to deal with. ( and sure, there was some (a ton, really) in knowing she'd take the offer when it was presented months ago, where she pictured them being able to be out in the sunlight together; hand in hand like a normal couple. but now, even after their somewhat break-up, she would never deny him the chance to experience such a thing, because she can't be there with him. )
[ it's a relief to hear that the ring won't make him a target, so when Buffy makes a Lord of the Rings joke, he can't help giving a little amused smile.
mentioning the situation he's 'stuck' in sobers him, especially since she's stuck here, too. being trapped here with her... well, it's not ideal, but mostly because she doesn't deserve to be here. still. ] Thank you. I appreciate it.
[ he takes another deep breath. ] I won't tell anyone where I got it. Not--not the first secret I've kept. [ again, he thinks of the day only he remembers. of how long he kept the fact that he was a vampire, hidden from the slayer. definitely not his first secret. ]
( if the ring brought him any extra danger she wouldn't have entertained the idea, let alone come here about it. she'd have refused, regardless of their relationship. she loves him too much, and always will, to add to the list of enemies he has. )
It's not me you should thank. ( Buffy's just passing along the good fortune after finding herself in the right conversation at the right time. ) Her name's Hope. ( she offers with a smile. in case he runs into her between now and then, he'll know who she is. )
Once I get the ring, and she tells me when she can work it, I'll let you know. ( besides a small bump in the proverbial road, she'd be the first to admit that went a lot smoother than she anticipated. even with his last sentence hanging in the air, she keeps from commenting on it. he's allowed his secrets. whatever they may be. pushing to know if they have anything to do with her will only grow the wedge between them. and this is ─ not exactly what she wants, but it is... nice. so she'll take what meager crumbs of what they had that she can get.
just not right now. ) I should go. Let you get back to your network post... ( pressing her palms to the edge of the cushion, Buffy pushes up and stands. but doesn't move beyond that. not before letting him know, ) If you can't find pigs blood, and you don't want to risk getting it from a stranger... ( it's only then that she meets his gaze. ) ...you have me.
[ another surprise, when she mentions his network post. ah. he should've known she'd see it; it'd taken him a bit of time poking around on the device he'd been given to figure out how it worked--but he's over 270 years old, anything fancier than pen and quill is 'new technology' to him. Buffy, on the other hand, is a teenage girl who's used to constantly being on the phone; of course she's figured it out and keeps an eye on it.
he can't really give any sort of come-back, since it was kind of a necessary post. he stands as she does, ready to show her out, when her offer to feed him herself makes him freeze. he has a surprisingly visceral memory of feeding on her the last time, despite being poisoned and half out of his mind at the time. his eyes go to her neck for a split second, before he looks resolutely above her head, even as his shoulders draw in and his hands curl. he doesn't look angry, if anything it's a little scared - and a lot tempted. ]
I'll--keep that in mind.
[ he kicks himself, because he meant to politely-but-firmly refuse her offer. ]
( her mouth forms a small O, catching what he says. she hadn't realized it until now, but he's right. it adds a little more light, and exactly that ─ hope ─ to the situation.
the mention of his network post wasn't meant as a jab. it was the easiest out she could find not to make her exit anymore awkward than she's already making it. (except she's making it ten times more awkward it seems. good job, Buffy!) plus, she was surprised to see his texted post when she clicked on the feed earlier. usually people who are a little, or a lot less, familiar with technology seem to make their first post using the video feed. and never accurately. it's either sideways or upside down, completely black or by sheer accident, and everyone watching gets a little more familiar with the poster in a way they never intended. so she'll give him props for mastering text and the network on his first go. )
Right. Good. Mind. That's all I ask. ( she nods, nervously. but when she sees his expression go scared, she could kick herself, too. ) Oh! I didn't mean it like that. ( she insists, gesturing to her neck. ) Or at all. I mean, you drinking from me, 'cos temptation and intimacy and risks and we aren't... ( together, she mouths, her hand waving between them as she rambles. ) I could go to the hospital and ask to have blood drawn and bring it back to you. No risk. No temptation. Just blood. Substance so you don't have to worry about anything being tampered with or whatever.
[ a part of him wishes she didn't babble. yet, another part loves her babbling, even when it makes both of them uncomfortable. at least it lets him partially figure out what she's thinking. ]
It's-- [ always a temptation, he stops himself from saying. he can't explain that he already knows what she tastes like - could pick out her blood from a blind taste test, even if Faith's was also involved. he goes with the slayer explanation, though. ] Thanks. It's--Slayer blood is different from--it's, like, supercharged. [ he catches himself before saying it's different from a normal human's blood, knowing how she questions that about herself, worries about it. and if she doesn't know about its own aphrodisiac qualities... he should probably tell her, but weirdly he doesn't want to. he would, if he believed she was offering every vampire a taste, but--well, he hopes she's not.
especially not without his mark on her neck yet, showing his claim to her, no matter how inadvertent it had been at the time he'd done it.
there is one thing he wants to clear up, though. ] It is intimate - but I'm not gonna lose my soul from it. Not when it's about as clear a sign that I'm not human as I can get.
( it's a good thing part of him loves it, because being trapped in sextopia has cranked the uncomfortable babble of her to new heights. thankfully neither Giles or her mother are around to witness it.
among other things. )
Supercharged? ( she echoes, both brows raising in questioning, arms crossing over her chest as she stares at him. whether or not it's clear to him, Buffy has no clue (not yet) the effects Slayer's blood can have on vampires. if she did she'd have more reason not to donate to the hospital besides the way her gut instinct screamed at her not to. ) Will it keep you─ ( full doesn't feel like the right word to use here. ) ─from having to feed as often? Like the way normal─ ( in instances like this, she's reminded she's anything but the sort, ) ─blood would? ( if that's what he means, then the obvious choice would be hers.
especially when he can't lose his soul. ) Let me help you, then. If you're not gonna lose your soul, there shouldn't be any reason why you wouldn't take mine. It's not like I don't heal fast, or that I'm in any real danger here. I think my time here has been there longest I've gone without a fight─except for the time a big red demon went on a rampage in the Down. But that was different. I ended up healing faster because of an angel ─ not you, another angel. An actual angel. Literally. He's like, a couple of billion years old. I'm not exaggerating either.
[ unconsciously, he tilts his head to the side as he considers her question. since he'd been so weak when he drank from her, all of the 'extra' power had gone to healing him, so he's not sure if otherwise, it would've kept him satisfied for longer than regular blood. ] I'm not sure. Human blood is more nourishing than animal blood, though. I don't need as much, or as often, to feel the same. So I'd assume a Slayer's blood would be above a standard human's blood.
I know S--I've heard it's like... [ he twirls his wrist a little, looking for a good analogy. ] Like being hyped up on adrenaline, or-- [ he's about to say more, but finally just shrugs. if he tells her it's like doing drugs, getting high, and it can be highly addicting, she's sure to rescind her offer of even giving it to him in a bag, drawn at the hospital. ] I saw the effect it had on Spike. [ he finally murmurs, hoping she thinks his reluctance to talk about it is due to the subject matter. ] He was like the Energizer Bunny for hours afterward. [ possibly longer, but he'd only been around for hours, before he'd run away from them again, unable to continue the ruse that he could be a heartless killer with a soul.
and there she goes with the babbling again. Angel can't quite contain his amused smile as he listens to her. ] I believe you. Someone on the network said they were half-angel.
( if he's trying to dissuade her from pulling her offer off the table, he's kinda failing. if anything, he's making her want to push it more. he is, after all, giving her every reason in the book as to why he should.
all while not giving her one reason, the only one that would get her to retract the offer.
even the mention of seeing what it had done to Spike, though the circumstances surrounding why Angel had seen firsthand what it had done to Spike turns her stomach ─ and hits a little too close to home ─ having nearly met the same fate (or having met the same fate as the other Slayer, but temporarily) at the hands ─ fangs of the Master. his retelling of Spike's response to Slayer blood only makes her think it's potent in terms of power and energy, making a vampire stronger ─ however long it might last. nothing along the lines of being an aphrodisiac. )
In everything you listed, there's not a single reason for why you shouldn't take mine. We're from the same world, so not only do you know what it will do, but you also know what it won't do. Mix with yours to create some weird other universe blood-issue or something or another. ( she shrugs. look. she's barely passing science as it is back home and with no school here. well. don't expect her to know medical terminology. especially regarding inter-dimensional species.
she knows that smile, too. and pleased as she is it's an amused smile, even on her behalf and not an exasperated look, she's still going to roll her eyes and blow out a breath. ) So what you're saying is you wouldn't have believed me if there wasn't someone on the network claiming to be half angel half-what, org? Human? Fairy? ( her tone is light, teasing. she's not upset at him in the least. )
[ she's right - he's not given her a single reason to rescind the offer. and he should. he should tell her it's an addicting drug, one that vampires crave; there's a reason most old vampires know to stay away from slayers (besides the obvious that they might get the better of you) - once you kill one, and drain them (because why wouldn't you?), you don't stop craving another taste. it's not like slayers are prolific, like regular humans. it's literally courting death to go looking for a slayer.
just one of the reasons he'd left Sunnydale. he knew eventually, he'd want another taste of Buffy - and he knew he could convince her to give it to him. here, he doesn't even have to convince her, she's doing it out of the goodness of her heart, because she loves him and wants to make sure he's taken care of.
and because he's selfish, he's going to let her. if he were a good man... but he's not. he's not good, and he's not a man. ]
Yeah. I know what it'll do. [ he finally murmurs. ] I just don't want you to feel like you have to do this for me. [ Say no, Buffy, he thinks. Despite me not giving you any reason to, take the offer back. You know I can get blood elsewhere. Don't do this. his words themselves are contradictory, sending mixed messages from one sentence to the next. he just can't bring himself to say it.
he can tell she's not offended, so her response actually elicits a full laugh from him, although he ducks his head shyly once he starts. ] If we were back home, I might've needed more convincing. In this place? I would've believed you anyway. And half-human, I believe.
You don't have to worry about it, since I'm not doing this out of obligation. ( she flashes him a reassuring smile. ) I want to do this for you. ( for all the reasons he already knows she's doing this for; she loves him and does want to make sure he's okay, that he doesn't have to worry about what might be int he blood or what it might cause him. but also because she knows, if there was anything she needed, he wouldn't hesitate to do all he can for her, and that there isn't anything she wouldn't do for him. easy as that. )
I can swing by the hospital tomorrow to see if they can draw blood for me and drop it off at your doorstep. You won't even have to see me. ( she's under no illusion his agreement (and she's taking it for just that since he hasn't argued) to her blood means he'll want to repeal his decision to keep his distance from her. and she wants him to know she's not trying for anything more.
Buffy can count on her hand the number of times she's heard Angel laugh. not simply an amused grunt, but an actual laugh. and each time is like the first time. her smile widens, nose crinkling up as it reaches her eyes. ) There's some girl who has a pet shark. It walks on land and everything. I'm not sure the deets, but that's a thing here. ( she hasn't seen it firsthand, but she has no reason not to believe the friend who told her. ) But the best is Dracula. ( she thinks it's funny, so she waits for the inevitable questioning look she expects him to give her. because she doesn't really believe it's the legend himself, but someone claiming to be him. plus the absurdity someone has the gall to pretend is wild. )
[ At least this is one more reason he'll never be happy with this arrangement; she's doing it gladly, out of kindness, and he's repaying it by lying through omission to her. who needs a hundred-fifty years' worth of guilt as a soulless demon, when you're still shitty even with a soul?
speaking of shitty, selfish things... Angel takes a deep breath. ] You could knock. [ he tries to sound casual, but knows he's completely missing the mark, and hitting awkward instead. ] I'd answer. Look, Buffy... This place... this isn't home. Thinking this place would let me forget, for an instant, what I am, and what I'm capable of? I was thrown by the fact that you were already here... What I'm saying is... I love you, and I want to at least be awkward friends. I miss you. And that's never gonna change.
And if not-- [ he raised his hands a little, in surrender. ] That's - fine. I just wanted to put it on the table, the rules are different here, it just took me a while to grasp that.
( he wants to be friends! the whiplash she gets from the change of direction from where they were going ─ which was nowhere together, not even as friends ─ to at least friends, is disorienting. )
You wanna be friends. ( she repeats, not entirely sure she can believe what she's heard is what he said. either way she needs to sit down for this. taking a step back she settles onto the sofa again, right on the edge (much like where this conversation is balancing). never once taking her eyes off of him. )
You don't get to do this. ( she starts, voice gentle but there's a sharpness to it from all the hurt she's buried. ) You don't get to string me along like, like some kind of ─ stringy toy! ( she flounders. Yo-Yo. she means a Yo-Yo. do not fill in her blank, Angel. ) Pushing me away when it suits you, and then reeling me back in when you want me. ( she warns. she wants to yell at him ─ to deny him. tell him this isn't how it goes; he doesn't get to pick and choose when and why he comes and goes from her life. doesn't get to break her heart and think she'll pick up the pieces of it again when he decides he can't deny his heart what it wants.
only she doesn't. like him, she's selfish. she wants him, however she can have him. especially after nearly losing him the last time (for her, on Kingman's bluff). and because out of everything she has issue trusting, his declaration of love, isn't something she would question. not ever. she sent him to Hell, for centuries, and he still loved her when he came back to himself. and that's more than enough to try.
after a moment, ) Friends. But you only get the once. After that... ( she has to put herself before him. )
I'm not gonna push you away, Buffy. Truth be told... [ he presses his lips together for a second. ] If I'd realized that you weren't already aware of what's happened for me, with us--I most likely wouldn't have said anything. Which isn't a good look, I know, but I don't want to hurt you. I know--I'm lousy at it, but I really don't. And without context, I know you probably think I was just being cruel, but the context really is one of those 'you had to be there' things.
I'm just-- [ he reaches up to scrub his hands over his face, then through his hair. ] I'm tired, and I hurt, I lost you, and then I lost Doyle, and now I'm here, with you again, and what the hell am I supposed to do? I could've-- [ a look of desolation crosses his face, a split second before he squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head, looking away from her so she can't see it. he could've been human. he could've stayed with her, and maybe...
maybe a lot more people would've died, that he ended up helping. and he cares about that, but it's buried under so much pain and sadness right now, it's hard to feel it.
finally, he gives a - frankly rather moody - shrug, still not looking at her. ] That's all, I guess. I'm just tired. And this place sure as hell isn't helping.
You say that now but, what if you fall into one of those deep sleeps people around here have fallen into and wake up with more memories and more excuses ─ sorry, reasons ( she corrects immediately and with bite. ) to stay away from me? ( she can't take being rejected again. even if he doesn't see it that way, it's what it feels like. like he won't put in the effort to try to work things out. he'd rather just bail on her ─ on them. and yes, she knows it's not fair to put the weight of what if on him. on something he, the Angel in front of her, has no control over. (whether it happens or not.) plus, it goes both ways.
any fight she has left in her dies at how broken he suddenly sounds. gone is the light from their earlier teasing, replaced by grief and loss.
not wanting to see him in pain, and wanting to comfort him, she's off the couch and stepping around the coffee table in a heartbeat. ) Angel, you didn't lose me. Not now, and not later. And don't tell me I don't know what happens, besides what little you've told me, because I know no matter what happens between us, good or bad, I'll be there whenever you need me. ( when he shrugs the light from the lamp reflects off the ring on his hand. not just any ring though. the same one he's worn since she can remember. but more than him wearing the ring is the way he's wearing it. pointed toward him, not out. "Wear it with the heart pointing towards you. It means you belong to somebody." he'd told her. and just like then, Buffy's hand reaches for his, fingers skimming over the shape of it, remembering it before sliding her hand under his. bending her head and drawing his hand up to her lips she kisses the ring, same as she'd done the night of her birthday, when he'd given her a matching one. ) Always.
And what if you do, and wake up knowing what I do? Or more? [ he hasn't heard or seen what she's talking about, but he gets the idea of what happens from her description. if he's further along than her, she could fall into one of these 'deep sleeps' and wake up from the same time, or further along even. she could wake up remembering their confrontation about Faith. ] They're our reasons, in our world, Buffy. Not here, where it hasn't happened yet. At least not for you.
[ he understands entirely too well why Faith became friends with Buffy here. recapturing something she'd thought she'd lost - even if she said they'd made some sort of peace with each other eventually, to be able and go back, have a Buffy who doesn't have all that baggage yet... there's no way to resist that temptation. ]
You wouldn't know, anyway. You [ don't remember ] weren't there.
[ he's surprised at first when she reaches for his hand, and then startled that she noticed the ring. he doesn't even think about it, anymore. he doesn't wear it very often, mostly because he never knows when he'll be fighting, and having it catch on something--well, having a finger reattached isn't fun, so mostly he leaves it in his pocket or on his nightstand. he'd found it in his pocket when he arrived here though, and since there's no fighting to deal with... he hadn't even thought about which way to wear it; he'd rather not wear it at all, than wear it with the heart pointing outward. ]
Buffy... [ his voice is soft, and entreating; he doesn't really know what he wants to say, or if he even wants to say anything. he wants to say everything, and when that happens, he falls back on her name. it's definitely not the beginning of him telling her to stop, though. if anything, it's him giving in, completely. she's so good, and he just wants that near him, hoping to reflect a little of it, so that no one can see his own darkness. he's always been drawn to Buffy's light. ]
You really think that's possible? ( she certainly doesn't. when she thinks about the future, the short one she's no doubt going to have since Slayers come with an earlier expiration date than everyone else, all she sees is him. all she wants is him. all she's ever wanted has been him. and once upon a time she was what he wanted, too. but somewhere along the way it stopped being what he wants, and what she wants no longer matters to him. at least that's how it feels.
her name off his lips breaks her out of her thoughts. and though she lowers his hand from her lips, she laces her fingers with his, holding him to her. but she knows she should let go. pull way from him and keep a respectful distance. especially in a city like this, where the road they can't venture down is always just around the corner with some event or party or disaster.
all she can muster up is, ) I should probably go. ( but she makes no move to. she can't. her feet are rooted to the spot and her eyes drift to their hands and she squeezes tighter. afraid if she lets him go that whatever this is between them will break and they'll be right back to where they were when he'd first arrived; angry and bitter and avoiding one another. )
Frankly... I'd rather not think about it. [ she gets mad at him enough when he has already done whatever she's mad about. he certainly doesn't want her mad at him for something he hasn't even done yet. which is why, if he'd realized at first that she wasn't almost-18-year-old Buffy that he was expecting, he wouldn't have mentioned that he lived in LA now, or that they'd broken up. he's never stopped wanting her though, and being here with her, it feels like their 'real' lives have been put on pause. they may not be able to be together the way either of them wants, but they could navigate something, here. no higher calling, no visions of people in distress or demons to fight (no nosy friends constantly telling her what a bad decision she's making). ]
Probably. [ he sounds just as reluctant for her to go, as she does to leave. he remembers not too long before her birthday, a scenario very much like this one, except with more kissing. Buffy needing to leave, him agreeing, neither of them wanting her to go. ]
What apartment are you in? [ he suddenly asks, remembering she mentioned something about being familiar with the Up apartments. It's a random question, but it's something to get her to stay, at least a few minutes longer. ]
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in person. in private. because the last time he saw her wasn't hard enough, and that was while he was still in shock over what he'd done, what he'd given up, and they'd been standing an entire office apart with a desk between them.
he has no idea what to say to any of that, besides: ]
apartment 9-A
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( this is a horrible, terrible and incredibly stupid idea and she knows it. meeting him in person. meeting him at his apartment! but she also knows she can't jeopardize anyone hearing what she has to tell him.
and because she can't stop herself from wanting to see him. even if it
mightwill hurt more in the long run.in true Buffy fashion she's five minutes late, despite coming from her own housing a few floors up and already being dressed; also in true Buffy fashion (mini skirt, tank top, sweater and boots. the cross he'd given her years ago hanging around her neck like it has since she arrived.
the moment she's outside the door she can feel him. the familiar and distinctive hum that drums in her veins whenever he's around. it's a comfort, knowing even here she's able to tell he's nearby. with a deep breath she lifts her hand and goes to knock. only to stop when thee door pulls opens before she gets a chance. pulling with it all the air from her lungs because God, she's missed him.
digging her heels into the ground she keeps herself from rushing to embrace him. instead, offering a nervous smile and an awkward, )
Hi.
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no, that wouldn't have been fair, on either of them. but god, he kind of wishes it were the case, anyway. he's selfish, and he'll be the first one to admit it. if this place is going to be so awful, what's the harm in pretending, for as long as he can, that...
"what's the harm," of course, is one of the reasons he broke up with her in the first place. a slippery slope of 'this is alright', and the road to hell--or rather, Angelus--being paved with good intentions. his intentions aren't even that good.
while he waits, Angel makes a network post asking about where to procure blood for a vampire. he's getting some... interesting responses, when he shivers, glancing toward the door, even though there's been no knock yet.
he's over to it and opening the door before she announces herself, but he can't help it. he stares at her, like an oasis to a man dying of heat and thirst. the cross on her neck is a familiar, even welcome ache, because that's his. it's not his mark on her neck, but it draws a similar reaction from him.
he can't help the answering, small smile, even if there's a little bit of ache in that, too, at her greeting. ]
Buffy. Hi.
[ it takes another couple seconds before he steps back, holding the door open. ]
Come in.
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now that he's here it's more reason to stalk the network. wanting to know what he's up to. just because they aren't on speaking terms, this instance aside, and the knowledge he might have cut her out of his life back home ─ they're both still very much a part of the other's when shes from. and try as she might (she hasn't tried at all) she can't shut her feelings off like the flick of a switch.
his smile, like always, eases her. has the tension melting from her with every muscle in her body relaxing. like him, she stares, too. taking in the sight of him like it very well may be her last. while trying to see if there are any changes to him. and there's not. not any that she can physically see.
snapping herself out of the obvious staring, and longing at that, she nods and steps inside. )
I'd say nice place but... ( she huffs out the quietest of laughs, glancing around. it's exactly the same as every other apartment she's been to in the Up housing. not a touch of his taste anywhere. at least not yet. ) It's no different than the one they gave Faith, or where I live. ( then she remembers it could be worse for him. ) I'm glad you're here, in the Up, though. The alternative... ( she shakes her head, turning to face him and shrugs. ) Let's just say the Down makes even the shadiest parts of Sunnydale look like...well, somewhere way more fancy. ( she spent the better part of a month there, until she had enough and made the decision to ask Jean for a contract. )
But talking interior design isn't why I came here. ( she adds seriously, waiting for him to settle somewhere before she takes a seat; the furthest away from where he sits. )
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I think the living arrangements would be the least of my worries, if I were marked a submissive. [ he glances at her neck, this time specifically at the black line she's been marked with. It makes him irrationally angry, and it's irrational, selfish jealousy; not even on her behalf, but because she has the city's mark on her throat, but not his own.
that's Angelus, but Angel can't help but agree with the demon's feelings.
at her rather obvious segue, he waits for a moment expectantly, before he realizes she wants him to sit down first. not something he's used to doing, sitting before a lady in the room. he was a lout as a human, but he was raised with manners.
taking a seat in one of the chairs, he watches her. ]
Right. Not a social call. [ he can't quite hold back the bitterness in his voice, but frankly it's a lot less than he expected to come out, and - to him, at least - it's clear that it's mostly all self-directed. ]
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especially considering, ) It hasn't been too bad for me. ( notwithstanding the end of her first month, where she'd been sent to the SLUT center and drugged, it's an honest answer. she doesn't need to look at him to know where his eyes travel to and she reacts all the same; her fingers skim over the mark starting just under her chin before skating across her clavicle and behind her neck to scratch nervously. ) I'm pretending it's like being grounded. Can't do this, can't buy that. ( something she doesn't expect him to understand. )
Only worse. Much, much worse thanks to the perversity of it all. But it helps I have a contract with someone I trust. Someone who doesn't expect anything along the lines the city makes a requirement. ( she can't help but to meet his eyes when she says it, searching to see if there's relief in her admittance ─ in case he was wondering if her contract had any sexual requirements. ) She has kids back home.
( with him picking a chair she moves to the sofa, taking the spot directly across from him. and no sooner does she sit, thinking they can be civil with one another does his tone turn sharp. two minutes. a new record!
and, of course, she can't help herself from returning some of the bite. ) And who's fault is... ( she raises a hand, ready to point a finger at him accusingly but instantly curls her fingers instead, clenching her hand into a fist and bites her tongue. though it's not clear to her it's self-directed, she isn't going to argue with him. not right now. )
Look. ( she sighs, folding her hands together in her lap in a sort of surrender. see? she can be mature! ) I came because a friend, who happens to be a witch─ ( and a werewolf and a vampire, stays with her for now. ) ─offered me something, months ago, that I think you could use. A ring. Not just any ring, though. It's a daylight ring. It'll allow you to go out in the sun without worrying about the ultimate sunburn. But it's if you want it. ( pressing her lips together she waits, watching as it sinks in before adding, ) Since you have to be there for the spell.
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It's mine. [ he says it calmly, if sadly, and holds her gaze, hoping she can see that he knows, understands the position he's put them in.
surprisingly - or maybe not - at the mention of a ring letting him go out in the daylight, Angel's first thought isn't the ring of amara. instead, it's walking along a pier, approaching Buffy, embracing her, leaning down...
the deep, unnecessary breath he takes to banish that memory is shaky, and he has to look down, fidgeting a little with his fingers until he can get ahold of himself. it's only then that he remembers the ring of amara, and destroying it so others wouldn't come after him for it. when he looks up, his expression is slightly worried. ]
I know there are different kinds of vampires around here--this thing just lets me walk in the sun? It doesn't--make me invincible, or anything, right? Nobody's gonna come after me to try and steal it?
[ he also remembers what he told Doyle - another wrenching ache in his chest - that people in the daylight already had the whole world out there to save them; he was there to protect the people others forgot, in the dark.
but there's nobody here to protect. no mission, no helping the hopeless. they're all hopeless, here, and nobody's going to help them except themselves. the city really is set up perfectly, if it's looking for selfishness and depravity. ]
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only she can't. but more than that, she won't. while he might've set the boundaries, she'll respect them.
keeping to her spot on the sofa, her gaze stays glued on him, watching his reaction. but before he can stare at his hands, which he twists almost nervously, Buffy recognizes the look on his face. Angel's lost himself in thought; in memories. whether they're ones from his past and her future, or a past they've both experienced together, she'll never know. she isn't brave enough to outright ask him what he's thinking about. not on the off chance it's something they haven't yet shared for her and it'll only break her heart more. whatever it is, though, it's heavy. she can see it in his eyes when he finally lifts his gaze to hers again. )
Invincible? ( she gives him a perplexed look, wondering what ring he's talking about, then shakes her head. ) No. It's not some kind of one ring to rule them all deal. So no one will come after you for it. You just can't tell anyone where you got it from. ( she presses, before gently adding, ) Not that you would.
I just... I thought if you're going to be stuck here, forced into a situation... ( whether she means being trapped in Duplicity in general, or trapped in a city with her, she doesn't clarify. ) ...you can't get out of, that this might make it a little easier to deal with. ( and sure, there was some (a ton, really) in knowing she'd take the offer when it was presented months ago, where she pictured them being able to be out in the sunlight together; hand in hand like a normal couple. but now, even after their somewhat break-up, she would never deny him the chance to experience such a thing, because she can't be there with him. )
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mentioning the situation he's 'stuck' in sobers him, especially since she's stuck here, too. being trapped here with her... well, it's not ideal, but mostly because she doesn't deserve to be here. still. ] Thank you. I appreciate it.
[ he takes another deep breath. ] I won't tell anyone where I got it. Not--not the first secret I've kept. [ again, he thinks of the day only he remembers. of how long he kept the fact that he was a vampire, hidden from the slayer. definitely not his first secret. ]
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It's not me you should thank. ( Buffy's just passing along the good fortune after finding herself in the right conversation at the right time. ) Her name's Hope. ( she offers with a smile. in case he runs into her between now and then, he'll know who she is. )
Once I get the ring, and she tells me when she can work it, I'll let you know. ( besides a small bump in the proverbial road, she'd be the first to admit that went a lot smoother than she anticipated. even with his last sentence hanging in the air, she keeps from commenting on it. he's allowed his secrets. whatever they may be. pushing to know if they have anything to do with her will only grow the wedge between them. and this is ─ not exactly what she wants, but it is... nice. so she'll take what meager crumbs of what they had that she can get.
just not right now. ) I should go. Let you get back to your network post... ( pressing her palms to the edge of the cushion, Buffy pushes up and stands. but doesn't move beyond that. not before letting him know, ) If you can't find pigs blood, and you don't want to risk getting it from a stranger... ( it's only then that she meets his gaze. ) ...you have me.
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[ another surprise, when she mentions his network post. ah. he should've known she'd see it; it'd taken him a bit of time poking around on the device he'd been given to figure out how it worked--but he's over 270 years old, anything fancier than pen and quill is 'new technology' to him. Buffy, on the other hand, is a teenage girl who's used to constantly being on the phone; of course she's figured it out and keeps an eye on it.
he can't really give any sort of come-back, since it was kind of a necessary post. he stands as she does, ready to show her out, when her offer to feed him herself makes him freeze. he has a surprisingly visceral memory of feeding on her the last time, despite being poisoned and half out of his mind at the time. his eyes go to her neck for a split second, before he looks resolutely above her head, even as his shoulders draw in and his hands curl. he doesn't look angry, if anything it's a little scared - and a lot tempted. ]
I'll--keep that in mind.
[ he kicks himself, because he meant to politely-but-firmly refuse her offer. ]
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the mention of his network post wasn't meant as a jab. it was the easiest out she could find not to make her exit anymore awkward than she's already making it. (except she's making it ten times more awkward it seems. good job, Buffy!) plus, she was surprised to see his texted post when she clicked on the feed earlier. usually people who are a little, or a lot less, familiar with technology seem to make their first post using the video feed. and never accurately. it's either sideways or upside down, completely black or by sheer accident, and everyone watching gets a little more familiar with the poster in a way they never intended. so she'll give him props for mastering text and the network on his first go. )
Right. Good. Mind. That's all I ask. ( she nods, nervously. but when she sees his expression go scared, she could kick herself, too. ) Oh! I didn't mean it like that. ( she insists, gesturing to her neck. ) Or at all. I mean, you drinking from me, 'cos temptation and intimacy and risks and we aren't... ( together, she mouths, her hand waving between them as she rambles. ) I could go to the hospital and ask to have blood drawn and bring it back to you. No risk. No temptation. Just blood. Substance so you don't have to worry about anything being tampered with or whatever.
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It's-- [ always a temptation, he stops himself from saying. he can't explain that he already knows what she tastes like - could pick out her blood from a blind taste test, even if Faith's was also involved. he goes with the slayer explanation, though. ] Thanks. It's--Slayer blood is different from--it's, like, supercharged. [ he catches himself before saying it's different from a normal human's blood, knowing how she questions that about herself, worries about it. and if she doesn't know about its own aphrodisiac qualities... he should probably tell her, but weirdly he doesn't want to. he would, if he believed she was offering every vampire a taste, but--well, he hopes she's not.
especially not without his mark on her neck yet, showing his claim to her, no matter how inadvertent it had been at the time he'd done it.
there is one thing he wants to clear up, though. ] It is intimate - but I'm not gonna lose my soul from it. Not when it's about as clear a sign that I'm not human as I can get.
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among other things. )
Supercharged? ( she echoes, both brows raising in questioning, arms crossing over her chest as she stares at him. whether or not it's clear to him, Buffy has no clue (not yet) the effects Slayer's blood can have on vampires. if she did she'd have more reason not to donate to the hospital besides the way her gut instinct screamed at her not to. ) Will it keep you─ ( full doesn't feel like the right word to use here. ) ─from having to feed as often? Like the way normal─ ( in instances like this, she's reminded she's anything but the sort, ) ─blood would? ( if that's what he means, then the obvious choice would be hers.
especially when he can't lose his soul. ) Let me help you, then. If you're not gonna lose your soul, there shouldn't be any reason why you wouldn't take mine. It's not like I don't heal fast, or that I'm in any real danger here. I think my time here has been there longest I've gone without a fight─except for the time a big red demon went on a rampage in the Down. But that was different. I ended up healing faster because of an angel ─ not you, another angel. An actual angel. Literally. He's like, a couple of billion years old. I'm not exaggerating either.
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I know S--I've heard it's like... [ he twirls his wrist a little, looking for a good analogy. ] Like being hyped up on adrenaline, or-- [ he's about to say more, but finally just shrugs. if he tells her it's like doing drugs, getting high, and it can be highly addicting, she's sure to rescind her offer of even giving it to him in a bag, drawn at the hospital. ] I saw the effect it had on Spike. [ he finally murmurs, hoping she thinks his reluctance to talk about it is due to the subject matter. ] He was like the Energizer Bunny for hours afterward. [ possibly longer, but he'd only been around for hours, before he'd run away from them again, unable to continue the ruse that he could be a heartless killer with a soul.
and there she goes with the babbling again. Angel can't quite contain his amused smile as he listens to her. ] I believe you. Someone on the network said they were half-angel.
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all while not giving her one reason, the only one that would get her to retract the offer.
even the mention of seeing what it had done to Spike, though the circumstances surrounding why Angel had seen firsthand what it had done to Spike turns her stomach ─ and hits a little too close to home ─ having nearly met the same fate (or having met the same fate as the other Slayer, but temporarily) at the hands ─ fangs of the Master. his retelling of Spike's response to Slayer blood only makes her think it's potent in terms of power and energy, making a vampire stronger ─ however long it might last. nothing along the lines of being an aphrodisiac. )
In everything you listed, there's not a single reason for why you shouldn't take mine. We're from the same world, so not only do you know what it will do, but you also know what it won't do. Mix with yours to create some weird other universe blood-issue or something or another. ( she shrugs. look. she's barely passing science as it is back home and with no school here. well. don't expect her to know medical terminology. especially regarding inter-dimensional species.
she knows that smile, too. and pleased as she is it's an amused smile, even on her behalf and not an exasperated look, she's still going to roll her eyes and blow out a breath. ) So what you're saying is you wouldn't have believed me if there wasn't someone on the network claiming to be half angel half-what, org? Human? Fairy? ( her tone is light, teasing. she's not upset at him in the least. )
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just one of the reasons he'd left Sunnydale. he knew eventually, he'd want another taste of Buffy - and he knew he could convince her to give it to him. here, he doesn't even have to convince her, she's doing it out of the goodness of her heart, because she loves him and wants to make sure he's taken care of.
and because he's selfish, he's going to let her. if he were a good man... but he's not. he's not good, and he's not a man. ]
Yeah. I know what it'll do. [ he finally murmurs. ] I just don't want you to feel like you have to do this for me. [ Say no, Buffy, he thinks. Despite me not giving you any reason to, take the offer back. You know I can get blood elsewhere. Don't do this. his words themselves are contradictory, sending mixed messages from one sentence to the next. he just can't bring himself to say it.
he can tell she's not offended, so her response actually elicits a full laugh from him, although he ducks his head shyly once he starts. ] If we were back home, I might've needed more convincing. In this place? I would've believed you anyway. And half-human, I believe.
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I can swing by the hospital tomorrow to see if they can draw blood for me and drop it off at your doorstep. You won't even have to see me. ( she's under no illusion his agreement (and she's taking it for just that since he hasn't argued) to her blood means he'll want to repeal his decision to keep his distance from her. and she wants him to know she's not trying for anything more.
Buffy can count on her hand the number of times she's heard Angel laugh. not simply an amused grunt, but an actual laugh. and each time is like the first time. her smile widens, nose crinkling up as it reaches her eyes. ) There's some girl who has a pet shark. It walks on land and everything. I'm not sure the deets, but that's a thing here. ( she hasn't seen it firsthand, but she has no reason not to believe the friend who told her. ) But the best is Dracula. ( she thinks it's funny, so she waits for the inevitable questioning look she expects him to give her. because she doesn't really believe it's the legend himself, but someone claiming to be him. plus the absurdity someone has the gall to pretend is wild. )
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speaking of shitty, selfish things... Angel takes a deep breath. ] You could knock. [ he tries to sound casual, but knows he's completely missing the mark, and hitting awkward instead. ] I'd answer. Look, Buffy... This place... this isn't home. Thinking this place would let me forget, for an instant, what I am, and what I'm capable of? I was thrown by the fact that you were already here... What I'm saying is... I love you, and I want to at least be awkward friends. I miss you. And that's never gonna change.
And if not-- [ he raised his hands a little, in surrender. ] That's - fine. I just wanted to put it on the table, the rules are different here, it just took me a while to grasp that.
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You wanna be friends. ( she repeats, not entirely sure she can believe what she's heard is what he said. either way she needs to sit down for this. taking a step back she settles onto the sofa again, right on the edge (much like where this conversation is balancing). never once taking her eyes off of him. )
You don't get to do this. ( she starts, voice gentle but there's a sharpness to it from all the hurt she's buried. ) You don't get to string me along like, like some kind of ─ stringy toy! ( she flounders. Yo-Yo. she means a Yo-Yo. do not fill in her blank, Angel. ) Pushing me away when it suits you, and then reeling me back in when you want me. ( she warns. she wants to yell at him ─ to deny him. tell him this isn't how it goes; he doesn't get to pick and choose when and why he comes and goes from her life. doesn't get to break her heart and think she'll pick up the pieces of it again when he decides he can't deny his heart what it wants.
only she doesn't. like him, she's selfish. she wants him, however she can have him. especially after nearly losing him the last time (for her, on Kingman's bluff). and because out of everything she has issue trusting, his declaration of love, isn't something she would question. not ever. she sent him to Hell, for centuries, and he still loved her when he came back to himself. and that's more than enough to try.
after a moment, ) Friends. But you only get the once. After that... ( she has to put herself before him. )
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I'm just-- [ he reaches up to scrub his hands over his face, then through his hair. ] I'm tired, and I hurt, I lost you, and then I lost Doyle, and now I'm here, with you again, and what the hell am I supposed to do? I could've-- [ a look of desolation crosses his face, a split second before he squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head, looking away from her so she can't see it. he could've been human. he could've stayed with her, and maybe...
maybe a lot more people would've died, that he ended up helping. and he cares about that, but it's buried under so much pain and sadness right now, it's hard to feel it.
finally, he gives a - frankly rather moody - shrug, still not looking at her. ] That's all, I guess. I'm just tired. And this place sure as hell isn't helping.
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any fight she has left in her dies at how broken he suddenly sounds. gone is the light from their earlier teasing, replaced by grief and loss.
not wanting to see him in pain, and wanting to comfort him, she's off the couch and stepping around the coffee table in a heartbeat. ) Angel, you didn't lose me. Not now, and not later. And don't tell me I don't know what happens, besides what little you've told me, because I know no matter what happens between us, good or bad, I'll be there whenever you need me. ( when he shrugs the light from the lamp reflects off the ring on his hand. not just any ring though. the same one he's worn since she can remember. but more than him wearing the ring is the way he's wearing it. pointed toward him, not out. "Wear it with the heart pointing towards you. It means you belong to somebody." he'd told her. and just like then, Buffy's hand reaches for his, fingers skimming over the shape of it, remembering it before sliding her hand under his. bending her head and drawing his hand up to her lips she kisses the ring, same as she'd done the night of her birthday, when he'd given her a matching one. ) Always.
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[ he understands entirely too well why Faith became friends with Buffy here. recapturing something she'd thought she'd lost - even if she said they'd made some sort of peace with each other eventually, to be able and go back, have a Buffy who doesn't have all that baggage yet... there's no way to resist that temptation. ]
You wouldn't know, anyway. You [ don't remember ] weren't there.
[ he's surprised at first when she reaches for his hand, and then startled that she noticed the ring. he doesn't even think about it, anymore. he doesn't wear it very often, mostly because he never knows when he'll be fighting, and having it catch on something--well, having a finger reattached isn't fun, so mostly he leaves it in his pocket or on his nightstand. he'd found it in his pocket when he arrived here though, and since there's no fighting to deal with... he hadn't even thought about which way to wear it; he'd rather not wear it at all, than wear it with the heart pointing outward. ]
Buffy... [ his voice is soft, and entreating; he doesn't really know what he wants to say, or if he even wants to say anything. he wants to say everything, and when that happens, he falls back on her name. it's definitely not the beginning of him telling her to stop, though. if anything, it's him giving in, completely. she's so good, and he just wants that near him, hoping to reflect a little of it, so that no one can see his own darkness. he's always been drawn to Buffy's light. ]
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her name off his lips breaks her out of her thoughts. and though she lowers his hand from her lips, she laces her fingers with his, holding him to her. but she knows she should let go. pull way from him and keep a respectful distance. especially in a city like this, where the road they can't venture down is always just around the corner with some event or party or disaster.
all she can muster up is, ) I should probably go. ( but she makes no move to. she can't. her feet are rooted to the spot and her eyes drift to their hands and she squeezes tighter. afraid if she lets him go that whatever this is between them will break and they'll be right back to where they were when he'd first arrived; angry and bitter and avoiding one another. )
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Probably. [ he sounds just as reluctant for her to go, as she does to leave. he remembers not too long before her birthday, a scenario very much like this one, except with more kissing. Buffy needing to leave, him agreeing, neither of them wanting her to go. ]
What apartment are you in? [ he suddenly asks, remembering she mentioned something about being familiar with the Up apartments. It's a random question, but it's something to get her to stay, at least a few minutes longer. ]
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