Fic: Falling Backwards 49/?
Sep. 5th, 2007 10:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
spikeysgrl18I come bearing fic! I'm amazed too ;) A big thanks to
c_woodhaven and rua1412 for the feedback on this chapter, even though it was months and months ago. It was very helpful and I truly appreciated it.If you need to catch up (which you undoubtedly will) just go here.
Falling Backwards
Author: Jami
E-mail: aresangel1@yahoo.com
Pairing: S/W, X/?
Spoilers: Series Finale
Summary: Set after season 7, Xander and Willow try to go back to a simpler time, before the First arose.
Distribution: Red’s Soulmates, anyone want, just ask.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, don’t sue, I have no money to give you anyways.
Author’s Notes: Caleb didn’t take out Xander’s eye. But everything else still stands. Anya and Spike are dead, etc.
Feedback: I live for it!!
Having discarded his traditional button-up shirt and tie and opting for a more casual wool sweater, Giles puttered quietly around his modest kitchen. The teapot, sitting under flame, began to whistle and he turned off the burner on his stove and carefully poured the now steaming hot water into a Kiss the Librarian mug that Buffy had given him the year before as a gag gift, plopping a tea bag in unceremoniously and letting it steep.
There was a knock on his door, firm but not loud, and he glanced up from his counter in surprise. He navigated the twists and turns of his living room, all the while a curious, puzzled expression on his face. No one should be paying him a visit, at least not at this hour.
Peering through the peephole, he pulled back slightly, taking a moment to smooth down his slightly rumpled sweater and running a hand through his hair before opening the door widely, a pleasant, welcoming smile on his face. A smile that died the instant he caught sight of his visitor’s pallid face.
“Jenny,” he murmured in concern, stepping aside and waving her inside. He had long since lost the habit of extending a verbal invitation, especially in the dark of night.
“I—I hope I’m not interrupting,” she stammered, hands shaky as she wandered into his living room, gaze flitting about anxiously.
“Of course not,” he admonished gently, guiding her slowly with a hand on the small of her back to his couch and sitting her down. “Are you all right?”
“I—” she began, her expression troubled as she tried to think of what to say to him, how to explain everything and all that she had seen that night. She wished she knew how to explain everything to him. To explain how she had lied to them all for months, that she cared for him, maybe even loved him, to tell him about Xander and the curse and the bringers. But the words wouldn’t come and she found herself stumbling clumsily over them.
If only it were simple, but the truth was never simple. There was always a price to pay for complete and total honesty.
No Buffy, no Giles, for their own safety as much as yours.
Xander’s ominous warning came back to her with startling force. As Giles sat there, staring at her in concern, she felt like a fool. He trusted her implicitly and she wanted, desired to earn what he gave to her so freely. But something was stopping her.
Fear, complete and utter terror.
She could be noble and say it was only because she would be placing his life in danger if she revealed all her secrets. She could swear that it was all for his own good. And that was partly true. But she was also afraid of what he would think of her, that he would hate her, and that was almost as overwhelming as the other.
Either way she would lose him. At the hands of Angelus or because of her lies, either way he would be gone, out of her life.
Jenny was a woman who prided herself on fulfilling her duties, living up to others’ expectations of her, but she had moments like these, loathsome as they were, when she was undeniably selfish. Moments where, when she looked back on them, she would realize she was undeserving of the trust and love given so freely. But even knowing that she couldn’t bring herself to utter those damning words.
Losing Giles, his life or his love, was unacceptable.
She would keep her secret, not out of loyalty to her clan, not for Xander, but because in the end she loved him, and that deep love inspired the most selfish of actions. And as Xander said, it was for his own safety. And hers.
“Jenny?” His voice was like a splash of cold water and she jumped, her eyes closing tightly in remorse as his arm slid gently around her shoulders and he pulled her into a comforting embrace.
“I, uh,” she sniffed, discretely wiping away a guilty tear as she slowly pulled away to look him in the eye. “I was staying late at the school…g-grading papers,” she admitted, a hitch in her voice as more lies left her lips, “and there was this noise. I barely heard it. But I hid and when I took a look into the halls to see what might be there—bringers.”
A sharp inhalation was Giles’ only response and she rushed on.
“There were bringers. I-I don’t know how many. I didn’t want to do anything that might get their attention. I waited until they were gone and t-then I snuck out through a window. I knew I had to tell you,” her hurried ramble slowed until it dropped off completely and she was left feeling surprisingly empty.
Hands clenched into fists, Giles stared blankly at the floor before standing abruptly, Jenny’s gaze following him the whole time. He ran an unsteady hand through his hair and fingered his glasses nervously for a moment before seemingly collecting himself and rushing to the phone.
“Who are you calling?” she wondered numbly. His reply was terse.
“Buffy.”
~~~~~~~~~~
“Mom?” Buffy’s voice rang out as she unlocked the front of door of her house and ambled inside, glancing around for any sight of her mother.
There was no reply as she wandered into the kitchen, dropping her backpack on the counter with a thud, her eyes drawn to the lone paper stuck on the refrigerator door. Snagging the post-it she smiled, a bit relieved when she realized it was just a note from her mother saying she was working late and wouldn’t be back until the morning. Thank god for pretentious artists and their elaborate gallery openings. She found small comfort in knowing her mother wasn’t home. At least tonight she wouldn’t have to worry about her falling prey to Angel while they slept.
Having returned from her first patrol of the night Buffy grabbed a glass from the cabinet, filling it with tap water and taking a long swallow. She was already exhausted, mostly due to her Angel-induced insomnia, and she had no desire to patrol for another two hours. But she had promised Giles and no one could do a guilt trip better than Giles, not even her mother.
Slinging her backpack over her shoulder once more, she took the stairs two at a time, heading for her room. She needed to fill up on supplies before she headed back out.
Her room was pitch black as she pushed open the door, only moonlight streaming through her window. She dropped her bag on the floor and turned toward her closet where her weapons trunk was hidden when she noticed the curtains fluttering, a soft breeze from outside making them dance. Her heart beat so fast she was sure her next door neighbor could hear it.
She didn’t leave that window open.
Spinning around, automatically in a defensive posture and her trusty stake whipped out from her back pocket Buffy prepared herself for a fight. One that never came.
Her eyes were beginning to adjust to the lack of light and she noticed a figure, bent over and silent as the grave, in the corner of her room by the vanity. It cast no reflection in the mirror and she had no doubt who it was, after all there was only one vampire was an open invitation to her house.
Angelus.
But Angelus wouldn’t be sitting calmly and quietly in her room. He’d be taunting her, terrorizing her, trying to kill her. The vampire, hunched over and far too compliant, was not the Angelus she had grown used to. It almost reminded her of—
“Angel?”
The pained hope in her voice was immediately snuffed out by the sound of a furious growl. Her grip tightened on her stake as she carefully reached for the lamp at her bedside and flicking it on, tense and taut.
The first thing she noticed was the blood. Dried, almost caked on, it covered his hands and as he leaned back slightly, dark eyes glaring menacingly at her, she could see it was all over his chest and thighs as well. His shirt, once impeccable silk, was torn and bloody.
“G-Give me a reason not to stake you here and now,” she demanded, trying her best to sound threatening despite the conflicting emotions churning inside her. He was obviously hurt badly and she wanted nothing more than to run to him, to clean him and comfort him and assure them both that he was okay. But he wasn’t her Angel anymore.
Her attempt to appear cool and in control was met with strained laughter, mocking and loathsome. Buffy grimaced. Obviously he didn’t buy it.
“Would you believe I come in peace?” Angel smirked as he tried to sit up straighter, fighting down the growl that instinctively welled up in him at the movement.
“Not really,” she countered dryly, stake still poised firmly to strike. She couldn’t quell her worry and concern and she wavered, catching herself before she took a step forward. His eyes narrowed but he said nothing in response. “Who did this to you?”
Her voice was filled with compassion and Angel sneered at the sound of it.
“The First,” he replied, managing to completely take her by surprise with his frankness.
“You’ve been working with the First,” Buffy murmured, a mixture of anger and sadness in her tone. He could practically see her disappointment and found a little solace in that.
“Yeah well, I’m a winning team kind of a guy,” he grinned as she glared at him balefully. “And sorry Buff, but you and your sidekicks aren’t it.”
“Then why are you here?” she asked bluntly. “And make it quick, you’re staining my carpet.”
“I may be a winning team kind of a guy, but I do have certain standards,” he grimaced as he stood, smirking tiredly as her muscles tensed, almost shaking from the exertion. “And I draw the line at blood sacrifices to awaken some demonic pothole. Normally I wouldn’t mind it, I mean, what’s a little blood sacrifice between friends? But not when I’m the damn sacrifice.”
“Demonic…pothole?” Buffy repeated in confusion. At least now the whole covered in blood thing made sense. Sort of.
“The Seal of Danthalzar,” he rolled his eyes. “And that’s the least of your worries.”
“W-Why are you telling me all this?” she stammered, fighting her urge to move to his side.
“Are you deaf?” he growled and all that nasty compassion she had been feeling was suddenly knocked down a peg. “I’m not a pawn! Not yours, not the First’s. I will not be played.”
“So you’re coming to me? To help you get—revenge?” she summed up incredulously.
“Well I’m not here to kiss and make up,” Angel sneered. “You want to destroy the First; you’ll need all the help you can get. It’s your lucky day, I’m feeling generous.”
“You mean vengeful,” Buffy countered with a raised brow.
“Whatever,” he dismissed her with a halfhearted wave of his hand. Taking a smooth step forward, slowly closing in on her, he noticed her hand twitch on the stake she held in a death grip. “You need me,” Angel murmured, voice soft, low…tempting. “We can fight side by side again…you want that, don’t you? To be with me again.” His movements were purposely slow as his hand reached for her own, gently caressing her soft skin. He could see her grip on the weapon in her palm slacken and he moved in a little closer.
Buffy wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and savor the feeling of Angel, nearly pressed up against her, so close and yet so far away. But closing her eyes in the presence of a soulless demon was akin to a death wish and she was not that far gone.
She could see the barest hints of a smug smirk tugging at the edge of his lips and it pushed her over the edge. Without any warning she swung, her balled fist hitting him squarely in the face and wiping that pleased grin off his mouth as he sailed a few feet across the room, landing with a loud thud on her bedroom floor.
“That a no?” he chuckled darkly as he brought a hand to his mouth and seeing fresh traces of his blood on his fingertips.
Raising her stake threateningly, she took a daring step forward only to be distracted abruptly by the shrill ringing of her phone. Her gaze darted to the offending object before returning hastily to the prostrate vampire, her stomach sinking when he was no longer at her feet.
Looking around franticly, she could see no sign of him. She ran out of her still open bedroom door in time to hear the front door close. The adrenaline rush that had hit her moments before had finally peaked and she was feeling its effects. Her heart was still pounding wildly and she was beginning to get a headache, the muscles in her body sore and strained.
Distantly she recognized the sound of the phone still ringing and she numbly retraced her steps into her room, reaching for the receiver beside her bed.
“Hello?” her voice sounded foreign to her, soft, tired and far too old. “Giles?”
~~~~~~~~~~~
“You sure you won’t get in trouble for sneaking out of the house, pet?”
“I didn’t sneak,” Willow retorted with a defensive glare at Spike. “I told Xander we were leaving.”
“You left a note,” the blond smirked, hands deep in the pockets of his duster as they strolled along the nearly deserted streets of Sunnydale.
“I just didn’t want to fight with him,” she sighed. “He wouldn’t exactly be thrilled at the idea of you and me going for a stroll. He doesn’t really trust you.”
“He shouldn’t. I’m the Big Bad,” he declared proudly.
“Of course you are,” Willow murmured, soothing his occasionally surprisingly fragile ego. “It’s just that things are finally good with Xander again. I don’t want to get in a stupid fight with him over nothing. Not that you’re nothing,” she added when he looked annoyed. “But we’re in a good place. I don’t want to ruin it.”
“You’re breaking my unbeating heart,” Spike groaned, making a disgusted face.
“Look, as much as I would love to continue with the witty banter portion of the evening, there really isn’t time for it. This whole thing,” she sighed, waving her hands about, “with the First, it has to end and soon. And we—I need your help. Xander doesn’t like it, Buffy and Giles don’t even know it, but we can’t do this without you.”
“What are you thinking, pet?” he asked softly, reluctantly moved by her declaration. He had always been a sucker for being needed, whether she knew it or not.
“The First isn’t up to full strength,” Willow shrugged as they wandered into Restfield Cemetery, keeping eyes and ears open for any unwelcome visitors. “At least I don’t think it is. I think that our best bet might be to, you know, cut it off at the pass. Stop it from getting stronger.”
“How do you plan on going about that, love?” he wondered, raising a curious brow. “The sodding thing isn’t corporeal. Going to give it a nice tongue lashing?”
“Funny,” she replied dryly. “The First is evil to the max, but it is following a pattern. Last time there were more of us and it lost, this time with fewer numbers on our side, it thinks it has a shot at winning. Everything so far has been preparation. When the First releases the Turok-Hans, that’s when it really gets started. So...” Willow drawled, pensively biting her bottom lip, “we stop that from happening.”
Spike’s face was blank, no real hint of comprehension in his expression, and Willow slowed her pace, turning to face him.
“In the basement of Sunnydale High there’s this thing, the Seal of Danthalzar,” she tried to explain as simply as she could. “The First used it to bring the Turok-Hans here. If we can find a way to destroy it, or maybe permanently close it, well…I don’t think that will completely stop the First, but at least we’ve taken their big guns out the equation.”
“So we need to seal the seal,” Spike repeated awkwardly, coming to complete stop amongst the headstones and giving all his attention to the young witch.
“That’s the thing,” she huffed in utter frustration. “I mean, can you even seal a seal? Isn’t it, by definition, sealed?”
“So we destroy the bugger,” he argued, the strength of his voice not giving away any of his doubts.
“And if it is magically protected?” she countered.
“Bloody hell,” he ground out, eyes flashing, “do you have to play devil’s advocate? You do your research book thing and if nothing works then I’ll do what I do best and make with the mayhem. If both of those don’t work we’ll start over. You at least gotta try first.”
“Well that was almost…encouraging,” Willow grinned as Spike rolled his eyes and let out a low, disgruntled growl.
“You’re going to ruin my reputation, you know that?” he grumbled. “Encouraging…bloody witch,” he snarled.
“Okay,” she interrupted his annoyed musings with an amused smile, “ruined reputations aside, we have a plan. An incomplete, slightly reckless, most likely crazy plan; but a plan nonetheless.”
“Right,” Spike nodded sharply. “So, you know, chin up and all that rot.”
Willow’s light laughter was cut short by the sound of a deep, menacing growl and two pairs of eyes darted up to see what made the sound.
Looking feral and absolutely deadly, its grey and veined skin stretched tautly over bone and muscle and thin lips curled back in a fierce snarl, fangs at the fore, the seemingly prehistoric vampire regarded them with a mindless vicious glare.
“Oh god” and “Bloody hell” muttered simultaneously, they regarded the predator in front of them, wholly unprepared for this. Willow jumped slightly when she felt a tight grip on her arm. Looking up into the unusually frightened eyes of Spike and feeling a minute measure of relief when she felt him squeeze her arm.
The standoff wouldn’t last long and Spike could feel Willow shaking under his tight grip. He wasn’t sure what the hell that thing was but he wasn’t in the mood to find out. His human façade had long since disappeared and he and the intruder stared threateningly at one another, a deep warning growl coming from Spike. It was met with an angry snarl. Willow’s balance, already precarious, faltered and she took an almost imperceptible step backwards.
But it was enough to end the stalemate as the Turok-Han lurched forward and a terrified scream tore through the night.
tbc...
no subject
Date: 2007-09-06 05:40 am (UTC)Gabrielle
ffic review
Date: 2007-09-06 09:57 pm (UTC)Bloody. Stinking. Brilliant.
I love you!!!!
Please tell me you will continue this! I'm down on my lnees begging for more!! It's so good!!
Shivering
Date: 2007-09-06 10:05 pm (UTC)