Title: Wolf Pack
Chapter Title: The Walk
Author: Baby Blues
E-mail: purely_blissful@hotmail.com
Rated: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine, but the story is.
Summary: Buffy and Angelus goes out to town for a small grocery shopping trip as another door between the pair opens.
Dedication: To Tin Head, who I woke up from her nap cause I missed her! Sorry, babe!
Excerpt:
~Angelus: Just keep cool. Act normal.
~Buffy: Too bad we're not.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"It's not a big deal. Really," Buffy said as she held up a top against her chest while looking at a floor length mirror. "It's just a walk in the town with Angelus. It's not that serious."
Cordelia rolled her eyes as she continued to flip through her magazine on Buffy's bed. "Please, look at you. You're a mess," she scoffed.
Buffy spun around and stared at her, completely terrified. "Why? It's my make up isn't it? It's too much," she gasped in horror, "Or maybe it's my hair. It screams 'trying to hard?' God! I knew it," she said and grabbed a brush from her vanity table.
Willow snatched her arm before she could do damage to her curly golden stresses. "Don't you dare. It took you an hour and a half deciding what to do with your hair and another hour and a half getting it done," she said in he resolve face, and at the same time, trying not to laugh at the look on Buffy's face.
"It is too much," her best friend complained.
"No," Willow assured her, "It's perfect."
"But . . . "
"Cordelia's just being . . . well . . . Cordelia. You look fine . . . sophisticated, casual, sexy, and yet . . . simple," Willow smiled.
"You sure?" Buffy asked, still unsure of herself as she looked in the mirror again.
"Yes."
"Why do you care anyways? I thought you didn't like Angelus. Isn't impressing him kinda screw up that whole idea?" Cordelia teased, sharing a knowing look with Willow.
"I don't and I'm not," Buffy almost stuttered.
Cordelia gave her a disbelieving look.
"And who ever said I didn't like Angelus? I said, I didn't like the idea of being his mate . . . I never said I didn't like him," Buffy insisted.
"Whatever," Cordelia muttered.
"And second of all, I'm not trying to impress him. It's just . . . well . . . " her friends looked at her expectantly as she struggled for the right words to say.
Buffy growled in frustration and flopped down on a chair, clutching a dress and staring at her two friends dejectedly. She didn't know how she felt. She could definitely say that she enjoyed Angelus' company and took pleasure in spending time with him whenever she actually had the guts to do so . . . but she didn't exactly know her true and real feelings for him. And now, her friends were expecting a definite answer, but she couldn't give it to them because she wasn't even sure herself.
Willow shot Cordelia a look and the brunette sighed, understanding Buffy's dilemma no matter how simple it was. The girl was in love and so was their new pack leader. It was obvious from the start, but Cordy wasn't about to tell her best friend know that. Not only did Buffy had to figure this out on her own, but to see her squirm was the funniest thing to watch on earth and it greatly amused her. She loved the girl, but she liked torturing her as well.
"We won't say a thing and we won't bother you with your true feelings about the guy . . . And go for the boots, the jean skirt with the slits, and that new blue sweater you haven't worn yet," Cordelia advised, sitting up on the bed.
Buffy smiled and hugged her two friends. "Thank you," she said softly.
"Yeah, yeah," Cordelia said with a grin, "You just better tell us what the hell is going on between the two of you before you do the dirty."
"You two will be the first to know," Buffy promised.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Even though the town was small, the classic elegance it held made up for its size. It looked like a New England village, cool and old fashioned, transported to the West Coast, warm and modern. It was petite yet humble, ancient yet fresh.
But like so many other small towns, news traveled fast among them, especially when two new strangers from the mysterious mansion on Crawford Street, along with twenty or something people, were walking their streets.
"Just keep cool. Act normal," Angelus advised wisely as they walked the main cobble stone street of town.
Buffy smiled at an old couple who stared at them suspiciously. "Too bad we're not," she said through her clenched teeth as she tried to keep up the façade.
"Don't sound too disappointed," Angelus said.
Her smile disappeared and she frowned up at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Angelus shook his head. "Nothing," he lied, knowing he would get a rise out of her. To see her fume was the cutest thing . . . well . . . actually . . . he could think of a few other things that were cute but . . . getting off the topic.
"Angelus, I'm proud of who I am," she began, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, "I love being a werewolf, don't doubt that," she said in a low whisper. "I'm a different being, and I come from an ancient civilization older than these humans and I'm damn proud of that," she said defiantly. "I just . . . I don't think these people care about that fact," she said and looked at the ground sadly, "Jessie died because of his difference . . . his gift . . . this beautiful gift that we were given . . . And he died along with my father because of it." She looked up at him sorrowfully, "They had to pay for something so magnificent and something that all these humans have been misunderstanding for centuries."
Angelus was quiet as he gazed at her. He never envisioned being a werewolf as a gift before. He found it more as a power and a blessing that made him greater than the typical meat packages that walked and talked. He often believed that he was a higher being . . . But to appreciate the power of being a werewolf as a gift . . . well . . . the idea never crossed his mind before.
"That's a good way of putting it, love," he said and smiled down at her.
"My dad had always made me believe in that," she said, smiling slightly at the remembrance of the man she had called her father. "During my early teen years, I began getting resentful. I believed being a werewolf was a curse . . . but my dad . . . " she looked up at him, "He told me that to be given the natural power to change and become one with the night was a gift that no other human being possessed . . . it was a miracle. He made me cherish being a werewolf, he made me love ~what~ I am."
Angelus smiled. "You miss him," he stated, not asked.
"Of course," she smiled back. "He took care of me . . . He loved me. What wouldn't I miss?"
He draped an arm around her shoulder and hugged her to him. "I'm sorry you had to go through that," Angelus said, and stopped on his tracks to hold her hands in his own as he looked into her blue orbs. "I wish I could make the pain go away," he said sadly, "But I can't . . . I can only try and makeup for it instead . . . and hopefully . . . that pain will ease."
Buffy looked into his sincere dark brown orbs and knew he was being truthful. She took his face between her hands and kissed his lips softly; wanting the feel of completion she felt whenever he was in his arms.
She quickly pulled away. "We should go," she reasoned and hurriedly entered the bakery shop they had stopped in front of.
Angelus stared after her, fear and excitement clutching at his heart. She was definitely coming around, but there were still many layers of walls he had to go through to finally reach her heart. And he will, one way or another, he'll fight for her, even if the battle was against her, he will win her in the end.
Continue to Chapter 15: The Conversations
Back to Chapter 13: The Observation