Deal Together; Not Alone.
By Emma

 

Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me, they belong to Joss Whedon.

Summary: Set during 'Helpless'. What if Angel had walked Buffy home?

Rating: G (I think).

Pairing: B/A.

Feedback: PLEASE! I need it! My address is: emmapre@ivillage.com

***

Buffy tenderly ran a finger down the spine of the book. Angel looked at her anxiously. "You do like it, don't you?" He asked, his nervousness revealed in his voice.

She took his hand and kissed it. "Of course I do. It was sweet and thoughtful of you. It shows that you care."

She flashed him a gentle smile and he couldn't help but mirror it. He was once again beginning to feel the comfort and ease, that they'd had before Angelus had re-emerged and wreaked havoc on their lives, slipping back into place. His feelings, if they weren't confirmed already, were when he felt her little hand slip into his larger one.

"I have to go now." Buffy suddenly announced, looking into his eyes. "I'll see you tomorrow." Smiling slightly, she pulled her hand out of his and headed slowly towards the door. The tips of her fingers were just brushing the handle when Angel spoke up.

"Wait," He said.

She turned, looking at him hopefully and a little expectantly.

"Let me walk you home."

"Oh, you don't have to do that..."

"No," He cut her off, "I want to."

She stood looking at him for a moment; her heart engaged in a fierce battle with her head. Her head was saying: It was a year ago today that...There's too may bad memories attached to today, too many bad feelings. Her heart was saying: You have to be with him! More now than ever do you nee him! See it through together; not alone. Her head was loud, but her heart was screaming.

"Sure." She said, reaching for the door. In three long strides, Angel had covered the distance between them and opened it for her.

***

They had been walking only a few minutes when Angel began to think that Buffy didn't want him there. Her head hung down making her golden hair fall with it, hiding her face from his view.

Buffy was too wrapped up in memories of the past, and thoughts of her current situation in which she had no Slayer strength, to notice when the first tears dribbled down her cheeks. Angel saw. She had, without realising it, tucked her hair behind her ear; this is how he got a glimpse of the tears that slowly rolled down her face.

He had a choice to make. He could either leave her in her sadness and let her deal with it on her own; or he could do what his heart and soul ached to do and comfort her. He took the second option gladly.

"Oh, Buffy," He whispered, pulling her into a hug, "What's wrong, love? Please tell me."

At first, she could say nothing; was only able to cling to himand let out all her tears of rage, misery and helplessness. Eventually, she managed to choke out a reply to his question, though it was garbled through the effort of holding back the sobs.

"It;s everything," She cried, "I miss us! The way we used to be! I can't stay away from you, it makes my heary ache like someone has smashed it into little pieces and then step on them! But when I'm with you, I feel like you hate me." At this, Angel's hand froze as it was lighly brushing through her hair. Hate her? He thought.Where did she get that from?

"And to top it all off, my strength is gone. I had to get Xander to open my soda! Xander!"

She couldn't take it anymore. Her self- control broke and she let loose with a fresh wave of sobbing. Angel held her tightly to him and whispered to her in Gaelic. The words she had never even heard before, but their meaning seemed clear.

"Buffy," Angel began, "Where did you get the idea that I hate you?"

She kept her head lowered, not looking at him.

"You never seem comfortable around me anymore; never seem to want to be near me."

"Of course I don't hate you! I could never hate you." He put a finger under her chin, gently raising her head. "I love you, Buffy."

"You do?" Her voice still held a tinge of uncertainty.

"Yes." And now all of the doubt was gone from her eyes.

"I love you, too."

They stood there for a while; smiling at eachother and holing hands. Angel was reaching for something in his pocket when they heard slurred voices calling from the other side of the street.

A look and a growl from Angel quickly sent the two drunks scampering away.

"They sure know how to kill a mood." Angel muttered quietly.

Buffy smiled up at him. "My hero." At Angel's puzzled look she explained. "They were buuging me on the way over to the mansion." He nodded and glowered in the direction that they'd left.

He cleared his throat and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small red box. Buffy looked up at him questioningly. When he opened it a small gasp escaped her lips. There, glinting in the dim light of a street lamp, lay her claddagh ring.

He picked it from the box and took her hand; his eyes asking a question. she nodded and he slipped the ring onto her finger.

"I thought I'd lost it." She muttered.

"I found it in a corner of the mansion about a week ago." His eyes now held a hurt look.

"Why did you get rid of it?"

She looked him straight in the eye and said: "Because it hurt; having the ring but not

having you."

"Buffy," He started, "I need you. Will you be my girl again?"

She nodded. "Yes."

He slowly extended a hand. She took it in hers and they started off down the street again. They were disturbed only once on the way back to Buffy's home, when a vampire jumped put at them from behind a bush. Angel quickly disposed of him and the only proof of the existence of Kralik, the insane vampire that the council had planned to use as a test for the Slayer, was a small pile of dust.

The End.