capeandcowllogs | (no subject)

Entry tags:

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(no subject)

WHO:

slayerpreferred
WHERE: Buffy's place?
WHEN: This past monday? This monday? IDK
WARNINGS: Probably none... INTENSE CONVERSATIONS
SUMMARY: Angel and Buffy need to share words in a word sharing conversation
FORMAT: actionspamtastic

[ Angel still, had no idea how he was supposed to do this. It had almost been easier when Buffy came to visit him in L.A. because then at least they had argued. It had been easier to tell her to go home, that they both needed to live their own lives when their words were both too sharp and angry to try to fit any amount of warmth in-between. And warmth, for Angel, was enough of a rarity to begin with.

But now he was supposed to talk? And while he'd much rather do it face to face than over the communication devices, he didn't know if he could talk to begin with. The prospects were terrifying; Cordy's death, Connor's existence, how he could just go ahead and tell Buffy those kind of things when no one else was supposed to know to begin with? And how could he even expect her to speak to him afterward? He didn't really want to lose the one good thing he had here, but he didn't want to lie to her, either.

It was Buffy. She was different; she had always been... different.

Standing in front of the door to her apartment, Angel wouldn't be surprised if Buffy knew he was here before he even knocked. Which had nothing to do with why he was hesitating, and more to do with his continued curiosities as to how this place effected all of them. And then he was finally knocking on the door, somehow going even quieter as he waited for Buffy to answer. ]

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He did what?

Locked me in a casket and sunk it down to the bottom of the ocean. Took it upon himself to figure out what I deserved.

Never really wanted to get that up close and personal with marine life, though.

[She tightens her grip on his hand, confused and worried and angry and a thousand other things she never wants to put a name to.]

..How'd you get out?

Wesley. [ it's a simple enough answer, but Angel doesn't think the specifics are too terribly important, distracting himself for a moment by looking at her hand in his own. ]

There's something else. What is it?

[ Angel is quick to look back up to her face, expression almost unreadable in its pain. ] Buffy..

You don't have to tell me. [She offered him a melancholy smile, putting her other hand over his.] But you can.

[ He didn't want to tell her -- not because he didn't want her, or anyone else, to know, but because he didn't want to have to say it But out of everyone, he felt as if she had the right to know, that it wasn't a secret he could keep from her. ]

Cordelia, she- [ that just didn't mean he could make himself say the words. ] Right before I showed up here.

Angel-- I. [She suddenly couldn't breathe, leaning closer on instinct.] I'm so sorry.

So am I. [ It was hard enough to say it, but keeping his eyes on her face was another matter entirely, considering it only made him want to pull her in closer. ]

None of it should have happened, but not even Wolfram and Hart could fix the aftermath.

[Drawing back slowly, she sighs, knowing precisely why eye contact can't happen.]

I'm seeing someone. I wanted you to hear it from me, first.

[ This was just a whirlwind of emotions wasn't it, and Angel goes resolutely silent for a short while, still reeling from his own admittance of Cordelia's death. ]

Good for you. [ It's not harsh or sarcastic, it's just... there. ]

[Buffy swallows, pulling her hand away after another beat.]

I think he is. Good for me.

[ Almost instantly, he folds his arms across his chest, trying to put up a wall he didn't want there to be during any part of their conversation. But he can't help it, he's convinced that if it's not there, he'll instantly revert back to jealousy, needy from Cordelia's recent death and with temptation right in front of him. ]

Yeah? I'm glad. Need me to do a background check?

I don't think that'll be necessary. I already know he's killed all his other girlfriends.

[She holds up a hand before he can interrupt.] I'm kidding. And I.. appreciate the concern but he's. He's safe. I'm safe.

You don't have to worry about me.

I'll worry about you anyway. [ It borders on petulant and Angel reels it in a second after he says it, almost immediately feeling guilty. ]

[Buffy nods, not even taking offense.] I'm worried about you too.

[There's a long pause as she waits for the pressure to dissipate, an elephant sitting on her chest. After all, there's certainly one in this room and even thinking his name is making her dizzy.]

There's something else. It's about Spike. [She looks up at him suddenly, expression bordering on fearful.]

[ He already doesn't like where this is headed, though he stays as sternly neutral as he can. ]

What about him?

[She takes a breath, forcing herself to keep looking at his face.]

I know why he was all humany -- while he was here.

[ For a long moment, he just stares, not entirely sure he wants to know what the answer is that'll lie on the other side of his question. But he can't exactly keep from asking either, something far more than curiosity at the root of it. ]

Why- How?

He killed someone -- Bakura. [Now was definitely the time for grimacing, looking past him to the window.] When you come back here, you come back minus you know, youness. In his case, vampireness.

Definitely won't be trying out that method to get my humanity back. [ Angel sighed, brow furrowing as he thought it over, reminding himself for what felt like the billionth time that see, it was a good idea not to get his hopes it. Because of course he hadn't gotten his hopes up, not at all. ]

Any idea why he did it?

[The only way she can force these lips is to recite them flatly, as if they mean nothing. And so though it tears her up inside, that's what she does.]

He told me, and I quote, "just because he could."

[ Angel had to think that one over, trying to figure out when Spike was from to warrant him killing someone for.. that exact reason. He hadn't even had a chance to talk to him while he was here and all Angel can do is sigh, grimacing slightly. ]

Guess some tigers just can't change their stripes. Even though Spike's usually more like a tabby. [ just keep diggin' yourself into that hole, Angel. ]

[Ummm. Buffy raises an eyebrow, suddenly shifting between horrified and bemused.] A tabby.