SCRIBES OF ANGEL
FanFic
________________________________
By
Cynamin
Disclaimers: Angel’s mine. He lives in my closet
and I take him out when I’m feeling depressed. :0) No, really – I’m not Joss,
so sadly, they’re not mine. Neither is the title or the lyrics; they’re
“Flora’s Secret” by Enya.
Rating: PG-13 for vague sex
Content: B/A
Spoilers: Nothing specific
Author’s Notes: This is an odd little scene that
came to mind when I was trying to go to sleep last night. Rather pointless, but
wouldn’t leave me alone. In truth, it’s all NutMeg’s fault for a silly IM
comment yesterday: “What, did Angel ‘shanshu’ during sex?” This is the result…
And because I don’t explain it in the story, let’s just say Angel’s curse was
fixed at some point in the past.
Lovers in the
long grass
look above
them
only they can
see
where the
clouds are going
only to
discover
dust and sunlight
ever make the
sky so blue
They lie
together on the grassy hillside, far from the battles that have recently been
fought. Here the smoke and dust are missing from the air, and the stars above
shine clear on a navy backdrop. It will not be long until dawn, yet they do not
wish to move.
Angel’s coat
lies beneath them, so the grass no longer tickles their necks. Their hands are
clasped one in the other, and their gazes are locked on the stars above. Yet
still they take comfort in each other’s presence, warm against cool, dark and
light together. The silence is broken only by the sound of Buffy’s breath and
the soft breeze through nearby trees. The air carries on it the smell of spring
flowers in full bloom.
Soon, they will
have to leave this place and the comfort of each other’s sides. That reluctance
is greater than the silence between them.
Afternoon
is hazy
river flowing
all around the
sounds
moving closer
to them
telling them
the story
told by flora
dreams they
never knew
“Do you ever
dream?” Buffy asks after a while.
Angel is
slightly startled by the question. “What?”
“Do vampires
dream?”
Angel’s brow
furrows slightly. “I dream,” he acknowledges.
“What do you
dream?” she presses, her voice soft and curious.
“You don’t
really want to know that.”
Buffy’s hand
unclasps from his, and she rolls onto her side to look at him. He does not meet
her gaze, but he feels her pressed against him. “Yes I do,” she insists.
Angel pauses
for a moment before answering her questions. The words are slow and thought
out, so as not to convey the emotions underneath. “I’ve been a vampire for
nearly 250 years. Even with my soul, the demon’s instincts and urges are there.
My subconscious doesn’t make for pleasant dreams.”
“Nightmares?”
she asks with an undercurrent of sympathy.
“They’re not
nightmares if some part of you enjoys them.”
They fall
silent again. Buffy rolls onto her back to regard the stars again. The sky has
not yet started lightening, but it will soon.
Silver willows
tears from
Persia
those who come
from a far-off
island
Winter
Chanterelle lies
under cover
Glory-of-the-sun
in blue
They hold
hands. Angel wants to leave this moment no more than she does. “And you?” he
asks. “What do you dream?”
She shrugs as
best she can from where she lies. “Slayer dreams aren’t pleasant dreams,
either.”
“Tell me,” he
insists, gently rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand.
Buffy frowns,
though he does not see it. “Well, there’s those dreams – the ones where I fight
and die as Slayers of the past. Or there are premonitions – more gloom and doom
and disturbing images.” She sighs heavily. “And there’s my dreams, which are
pretty much more repetition of the same. Death and fighting.” She does not let
go of his hand this time as she goes to look at him again. “But what about the
other kind of dreams, Angel? You know…”
He glances at
her, meeting her gaze at last. “Wishes?”
Buffy nods and
smiles slightly.
He tears his
gaze away from her eyes. “I try not to wish for things,” he says honestly.
“That just…leads to disappointment. I do what has to be done. No wishing about
it.”
Letting her
head rest on his shoulder, Buffy swallows hard. “That’s depressing,” she
remarks honestly. “No wishes at all?”
He does not
answer, because there are certain things he just can’t say. “What about you? Do
you…still wish for things?”
“All the time,”
she says honestly. “Mostly, I wish things could be…different, you know?” She
lets her fingers play across his still chest.
“I know,” he says,
perhaps thinking of lost chances or things yet to come. They both leave
unspoken the battles past and present. Though the darkness has been held at bay
tonight, it will return. Perhaps not as strong, but it would still be there.
“But we can’t change what’s happened,” he points out, wrapping an arm around
her shoulders.
“Or who we
are,” Buffy agrees with a touch of sadness. “But do you ever hope?”
And now at last
Angel smiles as he meets her gaze again. It’s a tiny smile, the barest
upturning at the corners of his mouth, but it’s a smile nonetheless. “Every
day.”
She meets his
smile momentarily before frowning oddly. “How can you hope when you don’t wish
for anything?”
“It’s not the
same thing,” he points out easily, at least in this sure of his feelings.
“But…”
He silences her
with a kiss, and she does not protest because she’s been wanting him to do that
since they first came up here together. It is gentle and cool, the barest taste
of possibility. He releases her mouth after a moment and his eyes are shining.
“Moments like this,” he says, his hand under her shirt resting on her bare back
now, “keep hope alive.”
Her eyes are
shining as well now. “I know what you mean,” she whispers huskily. And that
glimmer of hope that had lain between them since they parted ways shines a
little brighter now, a little stronger, that maybe this time they would not
have to part ways at all. That maybe this time they could make the tender
moments last an eternity.
Some they know
as passion
some as
freedom
some they know
as love
and the way it
leaves them
Summer
snowflake
for a season
when the sky
above is blue
when the sky
above is blue
They take
comfort from each other in a different way, now, warmth and cold pressed
together. Physical comfort has not often been a part of their relationship, and
it is different this time. It is not the desperate clinging to life that their
first time was about, or the great hunger of the time that only Angel
remembers. It is reverent, loving, a comfort above all else. They do not worry
that they might be discovered here – those creatures that were not killed in
the recent battles are in hiding for now, and no one else would come across
them at this early hour.
Instead, they
touch, and they feel, and they wonder. Hot and cold mingle until it seems there
is no difference between them. Angel wonders at the warmth that seems to fill
him at her touch; Buffy wonders at the feelings she never thought she’d know
again, not with him. Their whispered cries replace the silence that had echoed
around them so often tonight. And when it is over, only the sound of their
heavy breathing disturbs the stillness.
“Angel…” Buffy
whispers in awe, her hand trailing up his warm chest that testifies the life
within it, to his face, where her hand stops to capture the gentle puffs of
breath that escape his mouth.
“Shh,” he
whispers back, and holds her close, skin to skin. If any tears are shed as the
night comes to an end, they are tears of joy.
Her gaze
remains locked with his, shining with wonder. She giggles before she can stop
herself.
“What?”
She smiles at
him, pure and vibrant. “We need to get dressed,” she points out. “If we’re not
back by dawn, people are going to start looking for us, and if they find us
that would be embarrassing.”
He smiles back,
the only unfettered smile she has ever seen from him. “I don’t want to move,”
he replies.
“I don’t
either.”
So they lay
together, joy filling their hearts as they looked at the sky again. It was
lightening to a paler blue now, the stars disappearing, and they did not move.
Buffy smiles,
her hand pressed against his chest to feel his reborn heart beat. “You really
mean you never wished for this?” she asks at last.
He pauses for a
moment before answering. “I hoped,” he says at last.
If it is
possible, Buffy smiles even brighter. “I dreamed,” she admits.
He smiles at
her. “I know.”
Lying in the
long grass
close beside
her
giving her the
name
of the one the
moon loves
this will be
the day she
will remember
when she knew
his heart was
loving in the
long grass
close beside
her
whispering of
love
and the way it
leaves them
lying in the
long grass
in the
sunlight
they believe
it’s true love
and from all
around them
flora’s secret
telling them
of love
and the way it
breathes and
looking up
from eyes of
amaranthine
they can see
the sky is blue
knowing that
their love is true
dreams they
never knew
and the sky
above is blue
They whispered
admissions of love there on that grassy hillside. For the moment, they forgot
the battles in the town below and forgot everything it had taken for them to
get to this point. And though they had eyes for no one but each other, the two
lovers – once separated by their very natures, now unexpectedly equals in every
way – stayed there to watch the sun rise.
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