Hopeful Season

by Cynamin

Part Five

As day began to slip over the edge into night, the last remaining bits of awkwardness slipped away leaving a comfortable familiarity...and something more. Something that wasn’t nearly so comfortable, being both wanted and unwanted at the same time. Something that Buffy had thought long buried and was doing her best to ignore.

Desire.

The sun had just set, leaving the hotel courtyard bathed in a deep red glow. Connor was playing in the last of the sunlight, a number of his toys now populating a bizarre city of grass, brick, action figures, matchbox cars, and dinosaurs. Buffy sat on one of the benches, watching him and trying to ignore her raging emotions, simply enjoying the company of one young boy who was content to amuse himself.

“Is this seat taken?”

Buffy glanced up to see Angel smiling slightly at her. The last of the sunlight brought out red highlights in his hair she wasn’t sure she’d ever noticed before. For that matter, she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen Angel in even this little bit of evening sunlight before. She wondered if it was uncomfortable for him.

She wondered if he could hear how her heart was racing.

“Buffy?”

She shook herself out of her thoughts. “Go ahead,” she said, waving at the empty space beside her. Very consciously she looked away from him as he sat, keeping her attention on Connor’s play.

Still, she could feel Angel like a distinct line along her side as he sat down. She knew exactly where he was, could feel the line of his leg beside hers without looking, even though there was a good inch separating them. Then Angel leaned back in the bench, colliding with Buffy’s arm. If she’d been aware of where he was before, this sent a shock right through her and she snatched her arm away quickly.

“Sorry,” Angel apologized.

Buffy swallowed. “No, it’s...okay,” she managed, forcing herself to calm down. She placed her hand very carefully in her lap.

There was a moment of silence between them. “Buffy,” Angel prodded gently, his voice barely above a whisper.

Buffy knew exactly what he was asking. “I was just thinking,” she said, though what exactly was on her mind she was not ready to tell him.

He awaited her next words in patient silence.

Finally, she had to say something, even if it wasn’t exactly what she’d been thinking about before Angel came to join her. “Connor drew a picture for me today,” she said.

She could tell Angel was smiling without looking at him. He radiated that same paternal pride he had when he’d first introduced Connor to her. “He did?” he asked, turning a bit towards Buffy and placing one arm along the back of the bench behind her.

Buffy nodded and fished into her pocket. The piece of paper was a bit crinkled, but no harm had been done to the image. She held it open for Angel to see the colorful, barely recognizable crayon marks. “He said it’s you keeping the monsters away,” she explained.

When she glanced up at Angel, his expression was pensive. “Most kids wouldn’t really mean that, would they?” he thought out loud.

“None that I’ve met,” Buffy agreed.

Angel sighed. “I do wish, sometimes, that I could have given him a bit more normal a life.”

Buffy couldn’t help but smile. “Normal? Not with you as a father.”

He nodded his agreement, but without the smile. “Most parents have to convince their children that the monsters under the bed aren’t real. I have to teach Connor how to know the bad monsters from the good ones.”

He took a deep breath, and Buffy found herself braced in anticipation, knowing that she was about to get another piece of the story of the years she’d missed.

“They were after him from the moment he was born,” Angel began. He kept his voice low, and Buffy followed his cue, keeping her question too quiet for Connor to hear.

“They?”

Angel nodded. “They. Lots of miscellaneous ‘they.’ Vampires, demons, lawyers...because he’s the impossible child of two vampires. I spent much of his first year keeping them away. Every once in a while, I still have to make an example of some demon that decides to try again.”

“So you really do keep the monsters away,” Buffy said in understanding.

He nodded again, but said nothing.

“What more could a kid ask for,” Buffy said, trying to lighten the mood.

The mood wasn’t so willing to lighten. “A touch of normalcy,” Angel pointed out.

Buffy shook her head. “I used to want that,” she pointed out. “And you know what I’ve finally decided?”

“What?”

“If we were normal, we wouldn’t be who we are. This is the life we’re supposed to have. If it were any other way...it wouldn’t be so interesting.”

“But he’s only three years old,” Angel protested.

“And he’s got you for a father. Personally, out of the choice between normalcy and you, I’d pick you.”

Once the words were out, Buffy realized how else they could be construed. She also realized in a sudden moment of clarity just how much she meant that other meaning. That more personal meaning. And it was about time Angel knew that. She looked him in the eye and for the first time in years let all of that pent up emotion come shining right through. All of that...desire.

“Buffy...” Angel managed. His voice sounded stuck in his throat.

“Yes?” she said strongly.

“Do you mean that?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, completely certain. “But I don’t really have that choice, do I?”

“No more than I do,” Angel said. He was letting his emotions show in response to hers, and his voice was tinged with regret. “Even ignoring everything else, ignoring normal, there’s still the curse....”

“Angel?” Buffy asked suddenly.

“Yeah?”

Buffy swallowed, and then asked something that had been on her mind since yesterday. “How do you still have your soul?”

Angel sighed. “Buffy, I told you with Darla...”

“No,” Buffy interrupted quickly. “That’s not what I meant.”

He looked at her, quizzical and a bit alarmed. “Then what...?”

“I’ve spent most of the last two days with you,” she clarified. “You seem...happy, in general. Much happier than I remember you being.”

Angel was thoughtful for a moment. “I’m content,” he said after a while. He got what Buffy was saying, though. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I don’t know where the limits of the curse lie. But I’m not about to go testing them.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to,” Buffy hastily assured him.

Angel sighed. “I know you wouldn’t,” he said. “I just wish...”

“Me too,” Buffy agreed, and leaned into his shoulder.

They stayed like that for a long while in silence. Angel’s hand traced light circles on her upper back. His shirt was soft and warm against her cheek. It was a moment Buffy could only describe as ‘right,’ to be here like this, and yet it saddened her at the same time. They should have been able to do this forever. They should have been able to do this and more.

Connor looked up briefly from his playing and smiled at the two of them together. Buffy caught his look and gave a small wave. He giggled and returned to his game.

“There were times I wished he was your son,” Angel whispered out of nowhere.

That sincere confession brought out a fierce pang of emotion without warning, and Buffy’s breath caught in a kind of sob before she could stop herself.

“Buffy?” Angel asked in concern, starting to pull away. “Are you...? I didn’t....”

Buffy did not let him pull away, but instead did her best to hold him even closer. “Do you have any idea what you do to me when you say things like that?” she asked.

“I’m sorry...”

“Don’t be sorry!” Buffy said, a bit more harshly than she’d intended. “Not for things you mean.” She turned a miserable gaze up at him. “It’s just not fair,” she bemoaned.

“I know it isn’t,” Angel whispered sadly back.

Their lips met then in a kiss – brief, gentle, heartbreaking...everything that their relationship had been once upon a time.

Buffy pulled away after a moment, wiping her eyes of the tears that had unexpectedly risen. “Cordelia was right,” she complained.

“How so?” Angel asked, reaching to lightly touch her cheek, his fingers taking away the last traces of her tears.

“She was watching out for you,” she said. “She didn’t want me here.”

“I want you here,” Angel explained, as if that meant everything.

Buffy sighed. “It’s no good. You know that. What are we doing, Angel?”

He gave her a sad smile. “I wish I knew,” he admitted.

“Then I’ll tell you,” Buffy said. “We’re just setting ourselves up for more heartache. Maybe there was a reason we haven’t spoken for years. Maybe we shouldn’t.”

“I don’t believe that,” Angel said firmly.

Buffy looked at him, bewildered but somehow...hopeful. “You don’t?”

Angel shook his head. “We can do this without heartache this time,” he said. “I know we can.”

“But...how?”

“Simple,” Angel declared. “We let what happens happen. We take what we can get for the moment, and let tomorrow take care of itself. We’ll enjoy ourselves for once, and not start second guessing things from the moment something happens.”

“But what about afterwards?” Buffy reminded him. “What about when it’s time to go home? What then? Do we just go our separate ways again as if we hadn’t just spent a...delightful week together?”

To her dismay, she could see some of the uncharacteristic optimism die in Angel’s eyes.

“What else can we do?” Buffy asked unhappily. “What else is there for us?”

Angel surprised her, though. He pulled her back into his arms, less passionate than desperate. His entire body language spoke of determination. “We’ll find something,” he said strongly.

Buffy wanted nothing more than to believe him.