Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. They all belong to the creator, Joss Whedon, and anyone else who owns rights to them. This is just for fun, no harm intended.
Distribution: My website, and anyone else who wants it, just let me know where it's going.
Author's Notes: Buffy's point of view during her and Angel's first kiss in the episode "Angel." Cut me some slack, people, 'cause I haven't seen the episode in months, and I did this from memory and from an online transcript.
As soon as my mother left the kitchen, I hurriedly stuffed some of the leftovers from dinner into a small plastic bag and hoped that my mother wouldn't notice the difference. The moment I had gotten into the house, I had made to go up to my room, but Mom had stopped me and asked me to come have dinner with her first. Of course, since I couldn't come up with a good excuse to skip dinner, I had complied.
I had eaten as quickly as I could, while trying not to look like I was trying to eat as quickly as I could. Mom seemed oblivious, as always, though I wasn't totally sure. If she did notice, she didn't say anything about it. Luckily, she had excused herself to go to the bathroom so I took the opportunity to get the food.
The knowledge that an incredibly gorgeous man was most probably still in my bedroom waiting for me like I had asked that morning was a bit overwhelming, to say the least. You'll notice that I say man and not boy. I wasn't sure how old he was, but I could guess it was probably around his mid-twenties. He had an amazing body and the face of an angel.
Quite fitting, actually, since his name is Angel.
Every girl's dream.
I snapped myself out of my reverie; I was pretty sure I had a dreamy look on my face. Why think about him, when all I had to do to look at him was go up the stairs to my bedroom?
Not having to tell myself twice, I made my way out of the kitchen and hurried up the stairs, trying not to make any noise. I didn't want Mom to ask where I was going in such a hurry. The rhythm of my heartbeat was enough to rival the sound of a helicopter taking off. It seemed to be going two thousand miles per second.
To calm myself, I took a deep, cleansing breath before I finally opened the door to my bedroom. I stepped inside the dark room and glanced around, not even waiting for my eyes to become accustomed to the darkness so that I could see his figure.
"Angel?" I called softly.
"Hey," he answered. If at all possible, it seemed my heart was beating even faster.
I switched on the desk lamp and turned to look at him. "I brought you some dinner," I told him. "It's a little plate-less, sorry." In my haste to bring it to him, I had forgotten to bring him something to actually eat it with. He didn't seem too concerned about that, though, as he looked down at it with a slightly doubtful expression.
"So!" I said, trying to make conversation. "What'd you do all day?"
"Uh, I read a little," he replied. His gaze flickered for a millisecond and it made my look around, wondering what he had read. My eyes landed on my desk, where my diary was laying on. My heart suddenly seemed to stop as I realized what he had read.
My diary?! How dare he read my diary?
"…and I just thought about a lot of things," I noticed that he was still speaking. "Buffy, I…"
I didn't care what he was saying. I was too outraged and embarrassed at the thought of him reading about my personal feelings.
And I intended to make it quite known.
"My diary?" I cried. "You read my diary?" I walked over to it and dropped it back in the drawer. "That is not okay! A diary is like a person's most private place!" Angrily, I stalked back toward him. "I... You don't even know what I was writing about! 'Hunk' can mean a lot of things, bad things. And, and when it says that your eyes are 'penetrating', I meant to write 'bulging'."
"Buffy…" he tried to interrupt, but I was too busy being indignant to care about what he had to say. And here I had been, thinking he was the perfect gentleman!
"And 'A' doesn't even stand for 'Angel' for that matter, it stands for..." I was too angry to think about a name, so I squeezed out the first name I could think of, "'Achmed', a charming foreign exchange student, so that whole fantasy part has nothing to even do with you at all..."
"Your mother moved your diary when she came in to straighten up. I watched from the closet. I didn't read it, I swear."
His soft words made me stop talking and I stared at him. Well, he looked sincere enough…
"Oh," I muttered. Then I looked at the floor, as I suddenly realized what I had just said. "Oh."
The embarrassment I had felt when I had thought he had read my diary got even worst now that I had just revealed some of the things I had written. If my face wasn't red yet, it was probably because I hadn't processed everything I had said just yet. Luckily, he didn't insist on furthering my humiliation. Picking up where he had probably left off before my stupid outburst, he started speaking again.
"I did a lot of thinking today," he told me. "I really can't be around you." I could feel my burning cheeks and didn't even want to dare steal a glance at him. But I swallowed my pride and spared a glimpse.
What I saw made me stare at him for just a bit longer than I wanted to. It was a look in his eyes; something I had never noticed before. It was-dare I even think it-vulnerability?
But he was talking again. Why was it that I always got so lost in his eyes that I didn't even hear what came out of his wonderful mouth?
"Because when I am…"
I looked away from his chocolate eyes and tried to lighten the mood. Though part of me was curious to know why he couldn't be around me, another part of me wondered why I should care. It's not like he was around much, anyway.
"Hey, no, big," I said lightly. "Water… over the bridge, under the bridge…"
I frowned ever so slightly, trying to remember exactly how it went.
"When I am all I can ever think about is how badly I want to kiss you," he stated.
"… over the dam…" I stopped and widened my eyes innocently up at him. "Kiss me?"
Even to my own ears, the words sounded like an invitation and I had to wonder that's what it was. I started to get lost in the twin dark pools that where his incredible eyes and this time I didn't even try to pull back.
He wanted to kiss me.
Angel, the epitome of everything I wanted in a guy-Mr. Cryptic, Mr. I-have-no-last-name- wanted to kiss me.
And I desperately wanted him to. I wanted to know what his lips felt like on mine. I wanted to feel his body pressed up against mine. I wanted to get lost in his mouth…
The strength of my desire for him scared me-still does, actually. But I wasn't sure what it meant and I didn't want to get myself into anything I wouldn't be safe in. He felt the same way-I could see it in his eyes, even if I didn't know exactly what it was at the moment-and his protests sounded weak, I'm pretty sure even to him.
"I'm older than you, and this can't ever…" He trailed off. "I'd better go."
But I wasn't going to let him off that easy. I voiced the question that had been bugging me for some time now.
"H-how much older?"
As I started to get near him, I noticed that he was just as lost in my eyes as I was in his. It was an electric pull that had grabbed us and was throwing us together in a flash of desire. We were exact opposites.
Tall and short.
Dark and blonde.
Broody and perky.
But like magnets, we were drawn to each other.
North pole and south pole. Perfect match. It's something that I know I'll never experience with any else, no matter how hard I try to find it.
He didn't answer my question, though, to my slight annoyance. "I should…"
"Go," I finished. "You said…" That you wanted to kiss me, I thought.
And suddenly, my thought was brought to life. I felt my heartbeat speed up beyond belief as our lips met in a fiery kiss. I wrapped my arms around him as he tangled his fingers in my hair and deepened the kiss. Our bodies were tightly pressed against each other and our mouths were devouring each other. We were finally acting out my fantasy and it wasn't what I expected at all.
It was much better.
I felt like this was something out of a dream. Really. I feared that any moment now I would snap my eyes open and realize that I was still asleep on my bed, and that Angel was nowhere to be seen.
But no. It was as real as it got and what I felt was indescribable.
As our tongues dueled in our mouths, I suddenly noticed that something was different. Something felt off but I was so lost in the feel of his powerful body against mine, that I couldn't grasp it. It was something about his mouth. Something… sharp?
Then I felt his abrupt departure in a flash as he turned away from me. Startled, I got closer to him, trying to get a look at his face, which he was hiding from me.
"What?" I asked, feeling some desperation. "What is it? What's wrong?"
I expected a lot of things. A hundred different scenarios flashed through my mind in only three seconds. But what I finally saw was definitely the very last thing I would have expected in a million, billion, trillion… well, you get the idea.
He turned to look at me with his game face and growled. I did the predictable routine and screamed. Actually, I have no idea why I screamed. I mean I wasn't scared. Really, it's not like I'd never seen a vampire before in my life. I was more surprised than anything. Here was the guy of my dreams: tall, dark, handsome, older, good fashion sense, and great body. The last thing I thought he would be was a vampire.
So, I screamed.
He dived out the window and I watched with a stricken face as he ran away from my house. Now I didn't know what to think. I knew I should've known something was up when he saved me from the Three, but I was too entranced by him to really think about the fact that no human (except for the Slayer, of course) could actually fight any vampire the way he did.
Which leads me to wonder: why in the world would he help me in the first place? If he was a vampire, why would he show up to warn me and help me? Was it a game to him? If he wanted me dead, wouldn't it have been better if he had simply let the Three kill me? It made no sense.
So lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice when Mom ran into the room. "Buffy, what happened?" she asked me.
I backed away from the window, my heart still pounding hard in my chest. Mom took me by my shoulders and looked at me. I met her gaze and shook my head.
"Uh, nothing, I just saw a shadow," I replied, surprised that my voice had even come out.
Mom just looked at the window with a worried glance. I turned to look out too, not really sure what I was hoping for. I knew he was gone. At least for now, anyway.
It was weird how I could still feel his lips on mine, his body pressed up against mine. I wondered how I could've been so blinded that I hadn't sensed what he was. I should've been able to tell by the feel of his cool lips, and the lack of heartbeat and breathlessness.
And then suddenly, I knew. I knew why I had been blinded.
I was in love.
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