FIC: On Occasions08; In the Mansion (1/2)

[Mad Hamlet <Mad-Hamlet@xxxxxxx>]

Disclaimer: All this belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy(Grr..arrgh)


Drain Brameged Inc. Proudly Presents
A Mad-Hamlet Production


On Occasions; In the Mansion



"Okay. So tell me exactly what I'm doing here?" I cross my arms and glare at
the person who practically dragged me all across Sunnydale. He's tall, good
looking, very very talented at looking haunted and repentant. That's because
he spends every waking how being haunted and repentant but he also does it
very well. He's also dark, mysterious and capable of being gentle and
incredibly cruel. 
Angel lives up to his name well.

"We need to talk." He says in that breathless tone of his. It's flat and
calm, his tone, but if you know what to listen for it ..almost is tangible.
Like warm velvet, thick, strong and soft. But opaque. 

I shrug. "About what?"

He looks away from me and stalks past the large fireplace where, like always,
a fire is burning. The orange glow highlights his features in a way that used
to make my heart skip. Underlighting those fierce dark eyes, those lips,
always slightly frowning. Yes, these moments used to make my blood run hot but
now... well. Now they don't. 

Maybe I've matured a bit. Maybe I'm no longer intrested in love and danger
but just solid love. No risk. I think about the one I love now. Her red hair
and green eyes. Okay..there's a bit of risk there; I'm a risk junkie. Then
again, you have to be in this line of work. 

"It's different this time." He says slowly. "You can taste it in the air."

I shrug again. "I know."

He puts his hand on my shoulder. "This is about as bad as it's ever gotten
Buffy. The sisterhood is strong, ruthless and numerous. They are going to open
the Hellmouth. It's not an 'If' situation; it's a 'When'. And we know when
don't we?"

His eyes bore into mine. 

I can't meet that gaze and look around the room instead, trying to be
nonchalant. I hope he's not asking..what I'm afraid he's asking. 

"Tonight." I say quietly.

He nods. "Yeah, tonight."

"It could end." He continues putting his hands in his ever present black
jacket. "Not just you, or me. Or our friends and family. Everything. All of
it..gone." 

"If we fail." I finish.

"If we fail." He echoes. 

"And ..you called me here, all the way from the library to tell me this?" I
question. I'm getting kinda nervous here. I really, really, hope he's not
asking what I'm afraid he's asking. We..we're not like that anymore. I thought
he knew this. 

"No." He shakes his head. Again he turns away from me and walks next to the
fireplace. He leans against it with one hand, looking into the crackling
flames as if there were answers inside. Maybe there are. Maybe if we do fail
all we'll have is fire. And blood..and death.

"No." He repeats. "I wanted you to come here to tell you something."

"That would be what." I widen my stance slightly, cock my head to the sideso
I look more..challenging. Dangerous. He's seen it before but he doesn't seeit
now, he's still looking into the fire. I didn't do it for him anyway. I didit
for me. Probably something psychological to do with confidence, either way.I
did it.

He turns his face to look at me. "To tell you that, at moments like this,
it's important, very important to be with the one you love. When endings are
upon you and the only thing standing in the way is a fight. A fight, that in
all honesty, probably be lost..it's very important to remind yourself what
you're fighting for."

He shrugs a little. "Stuff like that..it can tip the odds." Again he looks
away. "Being with the one you love."

I knew it. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it. You think I'd learn. You think
I'd have learned about keeping secrets by now. First with the running away
garbage. Then when Angel returned. Keeping those things inside just made
everything worse in the long run. It's not like I havn't experienced it from
the other side. Willow's whole insecurity issues, Xander, Oz, me... It hurta
lot when it came out. If she had told me..told someone. Maybe it wouldn't have
quite so much. 

But did I learn? Nooooooo..I just HAVE to keep my secrets. Like the big one.
Like how I don' t love Angel anymore. How I love Willow. How I, Buffy Summers,
a girl, love Willow Rosenberg, also known as 'A Girl'. See? There's that whole
'risk' thing with my love affairs. I never though keeping secrets would be the
end of the world. Now... now I think I know better. 

Too little, too late.

So now I have to tell him the truth. And he'll be hurt and they'll be tears
and recriminations and pain. Who knows, maybe he'll just leave. And without
him to help us...maybe those Jhe bitches will win, the Hellmouth will remain
open and ..the World will die.

But I owe him that much. Cause I can't fake it..I can't fake what he's asking
for and even if I could, I wouldn't. He deserves better. 

I swallow a few times. "Angel...I.."

"C'mere Buffy." I glance up at him. 

Somehow he moved across the room to the heavy drapes along the far wall. I
know what's past them. His 'bedroom'. There's a four poster bed in there.
Heavy oak frame, large mahagony colored curtains handing from the top. They
can be pulled down to isolate the bed from the rest of the world. 

Oh God.
Oh God.

Or..as Giles would say. 'Oh Dear.'

"Angel.." I try again. "There's something.."

"Just come over here." He says again. He's..smiling? You have to know whatto
look for to see Angel's smile. They are not very big or often. But they're
unmistakeable. "If you trust me Buffy, if you ever did trust me..please..come
here."

What the hell. The world is going to end soon enough..probably. Whatever is
back there can't make things any worse.

I stalk across the room and the 'click clack' of my heels seems to echo
through the vaulted chamber. I stand on the other side of the arch from which
the draps hang, directly across from him so I'm where he wants me to be, yet
still as far away as possible. 

He reaches out with one hand and strokes the material with his fingers. "It's
soft." He murmers and then look at me. 

Aaannnddd..here we go. "Angel look, there's something I really...."

He pulls aside the drapes and I can see into the bedroom.

Four poster bed? Check.

Large picture windows painted over in black? Check.

Fire in THAT fireplace? Check.

Small redheaded girl curled up on the bed looking as if she cried herself to
sleep? Chec..whoa. Hold up. That's new.

I look at Angel. 
I look at Willow.
I look back at Angel.

He's smiling still. A small, quiet, kinda sad smile. He's watching me switch
back and forth from him to Willow. He nods slowly.

"Yeah." He whispers more to himself, even though he's looking right at me.
"It's definetly a good idea to remind yourself of what you're fighting for."

If I ever find myself in a 'gape like a fish' competition I'll win hands
down. I can feel my lips moving but no sound is coming out of my mouth. I
don't even think I'm really here anymore. All of sudden my whole concept of
'being' is called into question. I can't feel my hands, my feet, nothing
except this warring, whirling rush of horror, embarresment and not a little
bit of grief. 

Then my eyes begin to sting and I'm sure I'm here; that I'm here and this is
real and I'm probably going to start crying. 

Which sucks.

I hate crying.

"Angel." I croak out weakly. "I'm..I..."

He brushes his knuckles against my cheek. "Don't be sorry." He says. "Don't
you dare be sorry for finding something wonderful, beautiful, and incredibly
rare." He lets his hand drop to his side. "Besides." He shrugs. "There's the
added bonus of her being curse free."

Now I'm really lost. See, Angel doesn't really make jokes. Yet he just did.
So...I'm wondering if somehow I got sucked into the Twilight Zone. 

"You knew?" I finally can speak. Squeak more like but..hey..I'm
communicating.

He nods. "For a bit." 

"How long?" I ask.

He tilts his head back as if counting. Maybe he's got the time tracked in
hours. Finally he smiles again, just a little, locks eyes with me and says:
"Gazebo."

Ah.

Ah......FUCK!

Now murdersous rage is locked in mortal combat with a real case of
humilation. Part of me wants to kill him. The other part wants to dive under
the sofa and commune with dust bunnies. 

"You were there?" I squeak again. "You watched us? How..I...oooo..how dare
you and here I.."

He interupts. "Not by choice Buffy. The holy water eveporated, some newbies
were moving in. I'd been tracking them. I'd never..." He alkwardly shifts from
one foot to the other. "...never..do that kind of thing on purpose."

"You...protected us?" I gasp aloud. "Even though you knew what was
happening?"

"Sure." He looks away. "Of course. Love is a two way thing Buffy. But not
always. Yes, I still love you. I probably always will. And that means, if
required, I'll watch over you." He smiles again. "I just won't
watch..watch..you."

I can't help it, but a tiny smile pulls at my lips involuntarily. "Bet you'd
want too."

He wisely doesn't say anything but if he were human I'm sure he'd be
blushing. 

"Jokes aside, and that was a joke not an invitation," I continue, shaking my
finger in his face. "I love you too." And I open the rest of my hand and let
my fingers linger against his cheek. His dark eyes bore into mine but they're
clear and strong. Not glazed over with some sort of misunderstanding. He knows
me, know what I mean, and I do love him for it.

"I do love you." I repeat. "But not in ..uh..the.."

"Love way?" He chuckles quietly. "That's probably for the best."

He reaches up with his own hand and rests it atop mine, still against his
cheeck. We stay like that for a moment. Lingering in a last touch. Cause
that's what it is. A last time, a final time. And I've seen to much to lie to
myself. Part of me is hurting terribly...but that's the way it is. The way it
has to be and..in all honesty..the way I want it to be.

Masochistic much?

Finally he curls his fingers around my hand and, slowly, gently, pulls my
hand away from him. Holding it for a moment he just stares at our fingers
intertwined. Then with a sigh he lets go and our hands fall away from each
other. He slowly turns to look at where Willow is still asleep on his bed.

"She came to me about an hour ago." He says. "She was...crying and..just a
mess. I had no idea what was wrong with her. All I could get was that she was
terrified, beyond anything I've ever seen before. She kept going on and on
about 'endings' and the Hellmouth. How she needed to see you, be with you...
but that she couldn't ask you too because you were needed elsewhere."

He shrugs again. We've been doing that a lot tonight. "I guess she really
felt she had nowhere else to go."

I remember how calm she'd been since this whole bunch of crap had started
with the JheBitches. Even though things just got worse and worse..and they did
it fast too..but she just kept calm, focused. Trying to be what she thoughtI
needed her to be. Good ol' Willow, supportive and always there Willow. I curse
myself for being so wrapped up in 'the situation' that I didn't even notice.
She must have hit some critical mass. With everyone talking about how terrible
the situation is, me, Giles, not even letting Xander be a part of it... 

It hits me at that moment. Hard, there's no 'real world' equivlent that
wouldn't kill me dead on the spot. It would be like being run over by a train.
I realise, at that second, that I've been so wrapped up in the threat I have
not, for a moment, considered how she's feeling about all this. How Willow,my
Willow, who I love and loves me...a lot, I don't have time to think of an
anology, feels about knowing that I'll be taking point in what will probably
be, for lack of a better term, a suicide mission. 

Shit.

"Go to her." Angel says quietly. "You don't have a lot of time."

I can only nod.

"I'll be..uh.." He looks around the room despretly. "Outside. In the
..garden. Far in the garden."

I give him a small smile. "Thanks." 

"You're welcome." 

I step through the archway and he lets the drapes fall shut.

I stand there across the threshold waiting. He is delibratly clumsy as he
walks away, so I can hear his slow, solid steps getting fainter and fainteras
the distance between us, both real and emotional, grows. It's another gesture.


With only the fire in the smaller fireplace for illunmination the room, once
so large and spacious becomes a little claustrophobic. Orange light and black
shadows dance about the walls. The flames illuminate the deep red curtains and
they seem to be on fire as well. The same colored blanket, wrinkled and
twisted by the nervous rest of the the lone occupent.

Her feet are twisted in the covers, despite being asleep one hand is clenched
into a fist that grips the bedsheet tightly. As I watch her legs beging to
tremble, a slight, sad, whimper escapes her throat. I'm at her side in an
instant. Almost like teleportation. 'Beam me up ..something or other.'

"Shhhh..." I whisper in her ear. I cup her face with one hand and lightly rub
the bridge of her nose with my thumb. "Hush..it's okay. I'm here. Everything
is fine now. Husshh..hushhh.."

She's still asleep but she must hear me, the whimpers stop and she lets out a
slow, quiet, sigh. Her body relaxes, her fist unclenches and she seems to
just...fall away from me into a deeper rest. I let her. 

She sleeps, I watch. This goes on for what feels like forever. I listen to
her deep, even breaths still idly stroking her face with my fingers, just
being..loving. A quiet moment..finally.

Actually it's just a few minutes, I guess. Her breathing changes slightly.
Her eyelashes flutter and she begins to murmer quietly to herself. I think
part of her knows I'm here now because she shifts about on the bed until she's
slid a little closer and curls up against me. As she's moving I ease an arm
under her head creating a pillow. I know I'm probably not as comfortable asan
actual pillow but she's stopped shifting about and her murmerings have ceased.
I know I made the right move.

And all is silent. Save for the occasional crackle from the fire or the quiet
rustle as it collapses in on itself, blazing up a little higher than before
casting great shadows across the room, the bed, across us. I can only lose
myself in the shadowplay. Holding Willow and watching. 

I guess I kind of zone out because I don't notice her hand reaching up until
it makes contact with my cheek, she touches my skin gently turning my face
towards hers and I'm still coming out my fuge state when she tilts her headup
and kisses me. 

It's one of those kisses that could go either way. Not a peck, not a platonic
gesture all it would take is to open just a little bit more and it would grow
into something passionate, or pull back just a touch and it shrink to
something less so. Her lips beging to close but than open a little wider,
asking, needing more and I give. I give and give and give and even when my
body is screaming for air, and my muscles trembling from the lack of it, all I
do is run my own fingers through her hair and pull her tighter against me,
giving even more. 


It ends, finally. I don't gasp out loud even though the fresh oxygen is
welcome. If anything I hurt just a bit because it did end. She doesn't say
anything, Willow doesn't. In my arms, I'm in hers and we're just nuzzling each
other. Brushing our faces against each other, the tips of our noses bump
occasionally, checks being kissed, lips pressed against necks. She's not
saying anything clearly, just whispered mumblings, I cradle her head in my
hand, pushing just a bit so she has to arch her neck. Her throat is long,
white and lovely. I trace the outlines with my finger tips, touch the soft
skin with the tip of my tounge and listen to her whispered mutterings. 

I lay small kisses up her neck, along her jaw till our lips meet again.
Another exercise in oxygen deprivation ensues. She..tastes diffrent now.
There's a desperation. I can feel it. Her hands clasp my face, she's kissing
me so hard it's a little painful but I don't pull away. I can't. I don't want
too.

We pull apart eventually, I've slipped my arms around her and am holding her
tightly against me. I can feel and hear her ragged breathing as she tries to
catch her breath.

"Hi." I say into her hair.

"Hi." She replies equally muffled by my shoulder.

She gently pushes against me and I let my arms slack so she can pull away.
Her face moves into my vision and I can see she's still a little troubled.
She's not looking at me, but staring over my shoulder at the canopy of the
bed. 

"It wasn't a dream." She says.

"What? The kiss? I hope not." I answer.

"You and me." She explains. "Not a dream."

"Better than a dream." I say kissing her on the cheek. She still doesn't look
at me.

"Feels like it sometimes." She says. I sigh and sit up. 

"Willow. Baby..what's wrong?" I ask. I brush a few errant locks of red hair
off her face.

"I'm scared." She replies with simple candor.

"We'll win." I try and sound soothing and confidant. "We'll kill that
Sisterhood, seal the Hellmouth and have our very own 'saved the world again'
party." I want to leer, be a little suggestive but..it doesn't happen. I just
wind up feeling stupid.

"Oh I'm scared of them. You bet." Willow sighs. "But that's not what I'm
scared of."

Now I'm worried. The Sisterhood of Jhe and the seeming inevitable opening of
the Hellmouth is scary enough. What could be more terrifying?

"Well.." I say slowly. "What's the problem then Willow?"

Her eyes meet mine finally but..it's less of a comfort than I thought it
would be. I can see her fear. It fills her eyes and reaches out to my own,
adding to it. My heart speeds up just a bit and the room seems a little colder
than it was, roaring fire or no roaring fire.

"Do you love me?" She whispers. 

"Yes." I whisper back. 

"Say it." She licks her lips and I realise my own are suddenly dry. "Please
Buffy, say it. I need to hear it."

"I ..I love you Willow." Now my throats dry. I blink back the tears that now
threaten. She's doing the same thing. "I love you so much and so deeply it's
scary. I wasn't looking for it. I didn't think I needed it before. I actually
believed it would be a terrible thing to be in love after Angelus. I..I had
planned to avoid it. Love I mean. And then..." I wave my hand indicting her
and me. "And then this happened and the faintest whisper of the possibilityof
what we have no longer being.. I just want to cry. Find you, pull you into my
arms and never let you go." 

I swallow a few times. The tears are still threatening me, they beat Willow.
Fresh streaks of moisture are sliding down her cheeks. Her lower lip is
trembling but she doesn't look away from me. 

"I love you Willow." I continue. "You are my world. Everything else is just
stuff. Stuff that happens to be around. If you weren't here to ..to keep me
warm. To keep me anchored.." I shrug. "You're what I fight for." And the tears
win. Don't they always?

"I.." She opens her mouth, closes it again, tries once more. "I..I love you
too Buffy." 

She lurches upright wrapping her arms around me so tight I can barely
breathe, but I'm probably doing the same to her. She silently crying, I can
feel her chest heave against mine and hear her shuddering gasps. 

"Buffy." She says into my ear. "Promise me."

"Anything." I say back.

"Promise me you'll let me be there." 

"What!" I exclaim pulling back. "Willow..."

"Promise!" She practically shouts. Her eyes lock with mine, the glow of the
fire in them gives her stare a particular power. Then again, she's always had
a particular power over me.

"But...what if.. I want you .." I flail about looking for the words to tell
her how much it would mean to me if I knew she was out of danger. 

"I'm safest with you." She interupts. "If we fail..then no place will be safe
and everything will end. It'll just be a matter of time. If things have to end
I want them to end with me being with you. Not cowering somewhere waiting for
some nightmare to find me."

She pauses for breath. "If you go, I don't want you going alone. And I don't
want to be alone."

"Willow." I breathe. "It won't happen, I won't fail. I'll stop the End of The
World just like before. It'll help if I know you're safe."

"I won't BE safe Buffy. I have to be with you, I want to be with you. I know
I wouldn't be to helpful. The most powerful magicl I have is that fog spell
and if I recall correctly, that first thing out of the Hellmouth doesn't even
have eyes!" She takes a deep breath and sets her features. I've lost already
but I let her play it out. "Be that is it may, I want to be there. Promise me
Buffy. Please..."

I slowly nod. "Alright. Alright Willow if that's what you want. I promise,no
matter what Giles says; you'll be there."

She lets out a deep sigh, like someone who's been holding their breath a very
long time and begins to cry again. Still quietly. "Thank you." She manages to
get out. "N..now all I have to worry about is a tribe of demonic bitches with
a permanent case of PMS and apocolyptic aspirations."

A small giggle worms it's way past my one quiet weeping. "Don't forget.."I
swallow and start over. "Don't forget a multi-headed, blind, tentacled horror
with far too many teeth."

She herself giggles a bit into her fist, the one pressed up against her
mouth. She only nods in response. And we sit there on the bed for a minute.
Lost in our own thoughts.

Which don't last much longer than the minute. She flings herself into my arms
and pushes me onto my back, I don't resist much. Her hands clasp my face
between them and I reciprocate as best I can, pulling her close, holding her
tight as her lips find every knook and cranny of my features, when possibleI
intercept her lips with my own but she's holding my head pretty tight.

"Oh God." She gasps into my mouth. "Oh God..Oh God..Buffy..."

"Shhhh.." I whisper back. "It'll be okay. We'll..we'll get through this."

"Buffy." She whimpers. "I'm so scared. All I feel is cold. All I feel is
afraid. I'm tired Buffy. Tired of feeling this way over and over and over.."

"It'll be over soon." I quietly reply. "It'll be over." One way or the other,
but I leave that last bit unsaid, not that she's not thinking it herself
probably.

"Don't you get it?" She whispers into my ear. "I don't want it to be over."

"The fear?" I can feel my eyebrows crease in confusion.

"No Buffy." And she smiles for the first time in.. I can't remember when. I'm
sure it was last week sometime. She strings her fingers through my hair. "No,
not the fear Buffy. This..us..I never want it to be over."

"Oh." Duh! "Well..I don't either Willow." I kiss her lips softly. "Never."

She's silent for a moment, trailing her fingers through my hair. Just looking
down at me. 
She comes to a decision I guess, she gives a tiny nod in some thought question
of her own.

"Make love to me Buffy."

	

Do not cross a storyteller.
A storyteller is, perhaps, the most powerful thing in all of creation.
At their beck and call they have the powers of What Might be, What Could Be,
What Should Be and What Will Be.
All anyone else has is What Is. 
All the pontential versus mere reality. 


-Mad-Hamlet