Buffy/Angel Drabble Tag (Ficlet Tag?)

B/A. Pretty Night

They met at the morgue. Three murders in suspect circumstances made it necessary, and Angel still wasn’t comfortable picking her up at her house anyway.

“Hi!” she greeted him, a little shily, as she picked the locks. He nodded and let her enter first, closing the door behind them just in case some guard might be doing his job.

Two stakings later – the third turned out to be a false alarm - they headed to the first cemetery in their nightly schedule. Boldly, Buffy linked her arm through his. “It’s a pretty night,” she sighed contentedly as she looked up at the full moon and the stars twinkling around it.

He looked at her and nodded, smiled a little as she blushed. When she let him go, he kept her hand in his and that made the night even prettier for both.

It took hours and five fights for Angel to decide to move in for a kiss. Buffy welcomed him eagerly, forgetting that she was covered in dust and that the hands holding her had broken a demon’s neck three minutes ago. It seemed an eternity until he finally pressed his lips to hers, and Buffy smiled into the kiss; she’d been waiting for it since she saw him at the morgue’s door.

Without a word, Angel took the stake in her grasp and put it in his own pocket. Once she’d put both arms around his neck, he pushed her back until she was leaning against a crypt.

There, time stood still. No coming dawn reclaiming him, no annoying homework waiting for her. They kissed so sweetly, so lovingly; they held each other under a stone angel’s patient gaze, as if death played no part in their time together.


Prompt 1: doors
Prompt 2: "Between sin and virtue I'll take what you do to me" - Amistades Peligrosas

Doors and Windows (prompt: Doors)

Doors and windows.

That’s what their relationship had been, closed doors and open windows. The door that closed when she was a Slayer and he was a Vampire, but the open window he used to sneak into every night. A door slammed shut when they when knew that they could never make love, but a breezed open window for kisses, cool touches and other.... things that still made her shiver just thinking about them. A door bolted when he left her and Sunnydale, for her own good, for the good of the world; a window cracked when she said she was baking and he said he wasn’t getting older.

Doors are solid, hard, cold. Meant to keep what’s inside in, and everything else out. Door are final. Windows are open and soft, letting light in while still keeping the rain out. Windows are hope.

So how ironic that his door was all windows. Somewhere, the Powers were having a nice laugh at this.

“Alright, Summers, focus. You’ve adverted the Apocalypse, you can knock on the door of your sort-of-but-never-really-ex and tell him that you’re ready to start your life together... That sounded so much better in my head,” she sighed. What if she knocked and he didn’t love her anymore? Or he was with some hot, buxom blonde and decided she wasn’t worth the trouble? Or what if he was standing in front of the door in, (gulp), no shirt and no shoes looking sinful handsome and giving her that smile where he thought she was a little crazy, but it was cute.

She waved, for lack of anything better to do, her feet rooted in the ground. That was when he walked over and opened the door.

Prompt 1: For the dark finds ways of being engraved in the light -Serenade by Emilana Torrini.

Prompt 2: Midnight calling.

For the dark finds ways of being engraved in the light

He picks her up at the library tonight. Her laughter reaches him even though he hasn’t reached the doors, and when he enters the room, her smile is still wide and open.

“Angel!” she says, standing up and pushing chairs aside in her eagerness to greet him. Behind her, Willow is also smiling and even Xander seems in a mood good enough not to glower at the scene. Angel leans for a quick kiss and is admittedly surprised when she happily stays in place and doesn’t let the hug end.

He looks around, feeling out of place in a school library with a teenage Slayer holding him and her teenage friends staring. Plus a Watcher. The noise has brought Giles from his office, and at least with him Angel can exchange a quick, normal nod of formal greeting.

Buffy still has her arms around him, though. “How was your day?” he asks, wanting to fill the silence. She looks at him with a twinkle in her eyes and he knows that he said the not-right thing, again. He just doesn’t know what boyfriends tell their girlfriends these days.

“Good. Now it’s better,” she answers anyway. Thankfully she never minds that he’s awkward in the romance department, and that weeks with her hadn’t improved that fact. After reaching for another kiss, she disentangles herself and checks that all stakes are in place. “Cornell Memorial?” she asks as she secures the one at her calf.

He nods. This is familiar territory for him. Saying hello to his girlfriend in public? He can’t do it without making a fool of himself – and yes, he can hear Xander’s snickers and that Willow is barely withholding one of her own. But planning the schedule for tonight’s hunt? He just follows the flow of instincts and this itch for battle and his and Buffy’s minds are automatically in synch.

Giles gives them the names of possible fledglings and Angel commits them to memory even as he takes the piece of paper. Either he or Buffy will lose the note in the way, and Buffy is hopeless with names. Last week they stood for hours at Mal Sling’s grave when they should have gone to Valerie ‘Val’ Smith’s one.

She waves her goodbye at the guys, then takes his hand to lead him away. A chorus of ‘Good luck!’ follow them. Too late, Angel notices that Willow is saying goodbye to him, too; but before he can answer the door is closed behind them.

“What are the chances we’ll take less than two hours?”

Angel raises an eyebrow. Buffy knows better than him that waiting for fledglings takes longer than that.

She shrugs and heaves a long sigh. “Thought so. I just have this huge test tomorrow.”

So that was why Willow and Xander were at the library tonight. Unless there’s something important at hand, the only ones who stay until late hours are Buffy and Giles. “I could go alone,” he offers. It’s not the first time he’s patrolled on his own, and it wouldn’t be the last. He likes that Buffy has some time for herself from time to time.

Buffy looks tempted at the offer, but finally shakes her head. “Thank you, but….” Angel notices as her fingers clench and unclench, subconsciously going to the stake at her waist. “…I’ll be a good Slayer tonight.”

He nods and doesn’t tell her that he understands, that he knows that the grinning girl he found earlier will all but disappear once she finds a prey and an undead heart to aim for. Buffy is smiles, dances and Lit tests. She also is a blur of death and a satisfied smirk when her kill is done. Nothing will change that she yearns for a fight as much as he does. Darkness always finds ways of being engraved in the light, and the Slayer is neither one nor the other. That’s part of why he’s attracted to her, why she is attracted to him.

This time it is he who reaches for her hand. “We’ll make it quick,” he promises.

She smiles, even though both know it won’t be true.

*

Prompt 1: you've got mail!

Prompt 2: six o' clock

Not Going Anywhere (prompt: You've got mall)

She rocked back and forth on her heels as she waited for her tea water to finish boiling, actually that wasn’t what she was waiting for at all. She was waiting for the mail... again. She had been getting letters from Angel, they would arrive every two or three days, never longer than a week without one. He’d been traveling since L.A. had been reduced to rubble, different countries all over the world; some she had been to herself, in which case he always seem end up in the same places she had. Others she had never seen and he would describe to her in detail that she could almost taste the air and see the land in front of her.

At first, when she hear that he had left L.A., she had been worried that she would never see him again, but then the first letter appeared in her mailbox. He said he loved, that he couldn’t be with her right now but he wanted her in his life. He didn’t want to go through his alone even though he had to be by himself. He would go on for pages and pages of old memories, the L.A. or just simply his love her. She never failed to read one without feeling closer to him.

“You’ve got mail!!” Dawn shouted as she walked in the door, dropping her sister’s package unceremoniously on the kitchen counter. Buffy snatched it up, barely muttering a thank you to Dawn and completely missing her sister’s snarky comment about “Angel-Face.”

She picked up the envelope and checked the postmark, like she always did; Ireland. Her heart jumped a little; he was in Ireland, he sent her a package, not just a letter. He wouldn’t... No, that kind of thing only happened to girls in movies, movie girl she most definitely was not. Besides, it wasn’t entirely unusual for him to send her some random thing that reminded him of her. It was probably nothing special.

Still, her heart pounded as she tore open the package. Slowly she reached in and felt velvet, her fingers curled around a small box and pulled it out with shaking fingers. Flipping it open, her heart sank as she was greeted with an empty box. Chasing back the tears that had formed in her eyes, she reached back in to get his letter. It was thin, probably only a page, unlike the ten or fifteen she normally got. She let out a sob as she opened the soft envelope, maybe this was just his way of saying goodbye.

My Love,

There is no way I can apologize for hurting you the way have, for separating us, for everything after your birthday. I don’t know that there is much I can offer you anymore, the only thing I have to give is my love and a promise that I will never leave you again for as long as you wish to have. I’ve been a fool trying to live without you for as long as I have. If there is anyway can accept me, come open your door.
Yours, Always
A

Dropping the letter, tea forgotten, she ran to the door and threw it open. He stood there, big and board, looking unsure and holding a silver ring between his fingers. “Yes,” she sobbed, throwing her arms him, kissing his face. “Yes, yes, yes.” He didn’t even have time to response before his arms held her to him and her lips claimed his.

Prompt 1: One touch can fill a life of longing, not much is so much more than nothing
Prompt 2: Hard candy

Sorry to hijack your thread, but has anyone noticed it's getting awfully close to November again? *hint* *hint*

When his soul left his body Angelus drank human blood for the first time in, he doesn't even remember how many years, and it tastes good. But he finds that all he can think about is what she would taste like, not just lips and skin, though the memory of that still clings to his body, he wants to feel her neck rip open under his teeth. He wants to feel her blood in his mouth, and then he wants to let her feel his.

Obsessions die hard and eternal love is even harder to conquer. Angelus doesn't even realise he's giving in to Angel's heart as he goes to watch her every night at her window.

The demon takes pleasure in her pain, but Angelus is just waiting for the moment when he can turn her. When he can keep her by his side forever announcing to the world to look at what he managed to create.

It has nothing to do with the fact that he, maybe, wants to keep her around. That he, just maybe, wants to re-live that night they had together and create bruises on her skin that could last forever. It has nothing to do with the fact that he wants to remind her that she is his and no-one can take her from him.

Nothing at all.

The only reason, Angelus tells himself, that he's placing a kiss on her forehead as she sleeps is so he can torment her. There's nothing else to it.

1 : lovingly blinded
2 : Fingers