Reprise Revised | By : Maren Category: Angel the Series > Het - Male/Female Views: 4248 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Angel: The Series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Email: marenfic@yahoo
Spoiler Warning: Angel Season 5 up to You’re Welcome—I’ve diverged at YW. Cordy has died but they haven’t figured out
the Lindsey/Eve/Doyle connection yet.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters, or any song lyrics.
Pairing: B/A
Feedback: This is my first fic, so I’d appreciate feedback.
Notes:
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Angel laid the still unconscious Buffy on her hotel room bed
and checked her pulse once again. It was
getting stronger and he was relieved to know that he hadn’t taken enough to
cause her serious harm. He hadn’t meant
to drink from her but the lust and anger that he had nursed all day had
combined to give his demon enough ammunition to emerge. If I
want to be completely honest with myself, he thought, I have to admit that I wanted it too—that I was the demon in this instance. He sighed and checked the wound on her neck,
glad to see that it was already closing up.
He sat down on the bed and looked at the woman sleeping beside
him. Her slow breathing made her chest
rise and fall and he had to admit to himself that he still wanted her but the
rage that had accompanied the desire before was gone. What replaced it was self-loathing.
What have I become?
Angel raked one hand through his hair as he considered his place in the
world. He had come to L.A.
to give Buffy a chance at a normal life without him lurking in the
background. He had expected to find a
lonely, empty existence here but instead he had found a true purpose for his
unlife and a group of fellow warriors that had become his family. They had fought together against evil until
Wolfram & Hart had brought Darla back to screw with his head, and
ultimately to literally screw him. The
events that had followed-- Connor, his quasi-love-affair with Cordy, Wesley’s
betrayal, Cordy’s ascension and possession, her affair with his son, Jasmine-- all led him to where he was today. Empty, alone, ineffectual. And tonight he had been as close to a monster
as he could have been with Buffy while still leaving her alive. She had the wounds to prove it.
He knew he had to get away from them all. He was a danger to them, and just as
importantly, a danger to himselpan pan style='mso-spacerun:yes'> His
memories of what had happened with Darla flooded his mind. He had recklessly, mindlessly fucked her, not
caring whether he came out of it with his soul or not. Angel’s head dropped into his hands when the
realization of exactly what he had done tonight hit him. He had just used Buffy in the same way he had
used Darla. He hated himself more in
that moment than in all the years of his existence.
Angel eased off of the bed and took one last look at the
golden woman lying there. He could sense
that she was close to waking, and he had to leave now before she could really
see what he had become. He quickly moved
to the door and quietly let himself out.
*********************************************************************
Buffy slowly woke up, enjoying the feeling of complete relaxation
that had settled deep into her muscles.
She was so relaxed that it was a long moment before she remembered her
encounter with Angel at the club.
“Angel!” she cried as her eyes flew open and she surveyed
her surroundings. She was surprised to see
that she was in her hotel room. I don’t remember coming back here, she
thought, confused. Buffy commanded her
protesting body to get up, and she was simultaneously hit with a feeling of
dizziness and a sharp pain emanating from her neck. She quickly laid back down, and her fingers
moved up to her throat to gently probe it.
What she felt made her heart race with adrenaline-laced blood, and she
made herself stand up—slowly this time to counteract the light-headedness of
her last attempt—and move to the mirror over the dresser.
Buffy gasped as she spied the tear on her throat, and the
memories of her final conscious moments with Angel rushed back to her in a flash. She watched her mouth open in the mirror in
front of her and a sound laced with shock and anguish keened out from somewhere
deep inside her before she stifled it by covering her mouth with her hand. Buffy forced back her emotions as she slowly
walked to the phone. She sank down to
sit on the edge of the bed, her face impassive as she dialed Gile’s number.
When he answered, she said only three words before slowly
setting the phone back into its cradle.
“Angelus is back.”
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