DUST AND SUNLIGHT
By Cynamin
Disclaimers: Angel’s mine. He
lives in my closet and I take him out when I’m feeling depressed. :0) No,
really – I’m not Joss, so sadly, they’re not mine. Neither is the title or
the lyrics; they’re “Flora’s Secret” by Enya.
Rating: PG-13 for vague
sex
Content: B/A
Spoilers: Nothing specific
Author’s
Notes:
This is an odd little scene that came to mind when I was trying to go to
sleep last night. Rather pointless, but wouldn’t leave me alone. In truth,
it’s all NutMeg’s fault for a silly IM comment yesterday: “What, did Angel
‘shanshu’ during sex?” This is the result… And because I don’t explain it
in the story, let’s just say Angel’s curse was fixed at some point in the
past.
Lovers
in the long grass
look
above them
only
they can see
where
the clouds are going
only
to discover
dust
and sunlight
ever
make the sky so blue
They
lie together on the grassy hillside, far from the battles that have
recently been fought. Here the smoke and dust are missing from the air, and
the stars above shine clear on a navy backdrop. It will not be long until
dawn, yet they do not wish to move.
Angel’s
coat lies beneath them, so the grass no longer tickles their necks. Their
hands are clasped one in the other, and their gazes are locked on the stars
above. Yet still they take comfort in each other’s presence, warm against
cool, dark and light together. The silence is broken only by the sound of
Buffy’s breath and the soft breeze through nearby trees. The air carries on
it the smell of spring flowers in full bloom.
Soon,
they will have to leave this place and the comfort of each other’s sides.
That reluctance is greater than the silence between them.
Afternoon is
hazy
river flowing
all around the sounds
moving closer to them
telling them the story
told by flora
dreams they never knew
“Do
you ever dream?” Buffy asks after a while.
Angel
is slightly startled by the question. “What?”
“Do
vampires dream?”
Angel’s
brow furrows slightly. “I dream,” he acknowledges.
“What
do you dream?” she presses, her voice soft and curious.
“You
don’t really want to know that.”
Buffy’s
hand unclasps from his, and she rolls onto her side to look at him. He does
not meet her gaze, but he feels her pressed against him. “Yes I do,” she
insists.
Angel
pauses for a moment before answering her questions. The words are slow and
thought out, so as not to convey the emotions underneath. “I’ve been a
vampire for nearly 250 years. Even with my soul, the demon’s instincts and
urges are there. My subconscious doesn’t make for pleasant dreams.”
“Nightmares?”
she asks with an undercurrent of sympathy.
“They’re
not nightmares if some part of you enjoys them.”
They
fall silent again. Buffy rolls onto her back to regard the stars again. The
sky has not yet started lightening, but it will soon.
Silver
willows
tears
from Persia
those
who come
from
a far-off island
Winter
Chanterelle lies
under
cover
Glory-of-the-sun
in blue
They
hold hands. Angel wants to leave this moment no more than she does. “And
you?” he asks. “What do you dream?”
She
shrugs as best she can from where she lies. “Slayer dreams aren’t pleasant
dreams, either.”
“Tell
me,” he insists, gently rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand.
Buffy
frowns, though he does not see it. “Well, there’s those dreams – the ones
where I fight and die as Slayers of the past. Or there are premonitions –
more gloom and doom and disturbing images.” She sighs heavily. “And there’s
my dreams, which are pretty much more repetition of the same. Death and
fighting.” She does not let go of his hand this time as she goes to look at
him again. “But what about the other kind of dreams, Angel? You know…”
He
glances at her, meeting her gaze at last. “Wishes?”
Buffy
nods and smiles slightly.
He
tears his gaze away from her eyes. “I try not to wish for things,” he says
honestly. “That just…leads to disappointment. I do what has to be done. No
wishing about it.”
Letting
her head rest on his shoulder, Buffy swallows hard. “That’s depressing,”
she remarks honestly. “No wishes at all?”
He
does not answer, because there are certain things he just can’t say. “What
about you? Do you…still wish for things?”
“All
the time,” she says honestly. “Mostly, I wish things could be…different,
you know?” She lets her fingers play across his still chest.
“I
know,” he says, perhaps thinking of lost chances or things yet to come.
They both leave unspoken the battles past and present. Though the darkness
has been held at bay tonight, it will return. Perhaps not as strong, but it
would still be there. “But we can’t change what’s happened,” he points out,
wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
“Or
who we are,” Buffy agrees with a touch of sadness. “But do you ever hope?”
And
now at last Angel smiles as he meets her gaze again. It’s a tiny smile, the
barest upturning at the corners of his mouth, but it’s a smile nonetheless.
“Every day.”
She
meets his smile momentarily before frowning oddly. “How can you hope when
you don’t wish for anything?”
“It’s
not the same thing,” he points out easily, at least in this sure of his
feelings.
“But…”
He
silences her with a kiss, and she does not protest because she’s been
wanting him to do that since they first came up here together. It is gentle
and cool, the barest taste of possibility. He releases her mouth after a
moment and his eyes are shining. “Moments like this,” he says, his hand
under her shirt resting on her bare back now, “keep hope alive.”
Her
eyes are shining as well now. “I know what you mean,” she whispers huskily.
And that glimmer of hope that had lain between them since they parted ways
shines a little brighter now, a little stronger, that maybe this time they
would not have to part ways at all. That maybe this time they could make
the tender moments last an eternity.
Some
they know as passion
some
as freedom
some
they know as love
and
the way it leaves them
Summer
snowflake
for
a season
when
the sky above is blue
when
the sky above is blue
They
take comfort from each other in a different way, now, warmth and cold
pressed together. Physical comfort has not often been a part of their
relationship, and it is different this time. It is not the desperate
clinging to life that their first time was about, or the great hunger of
the time that only Angel remembers. It is reverent, loving, a comfort above
all else. They do not worry that they might be discovered here – those
creatures that were not killed in the recent battles are in hiding for now,
and no one else would come across them at this early hour.
Instead,
they touch, and they feel, and they wonder. Hot and cold mingle until it
seems there is no difference between them. Angel wonders at the warmth that
seems to fill him at her touch; Buffy wonders at the feelings she never
thought she’d know again, not with him. Their whispered cries replace the
silence that had echoed around them so often tonight. And when it is over,
only the sound of their heavy breathing disturbs the stillness.
“Angel…”
Buffy whispers in awe, her hand trailing up his warm chest that testifies
the life within it, to his face, where her hand stops to capture the gentle
puffs of breath that escape his mouth.
“Shh,”
he whispers back, and holds her close, skin to skin. If any tears are shed
as the night comes to an end, they are tears of joy.
Her
gaze remains locked with his, shining with wonder. She giggles before she
can stop herself.
“What?”
She
smiles at him, pure and vibrant. “We need to get dressed,” she points out.
“If we’re not back by dawn, people are going to start looking for us, and
if they find us that would be embarrassing.”
He
smiles back, the only unfettered smile she has ever seen from him. “I don’t
want to move,” he replies.
“I
don’t either.”
So
they lay together, joy filling their hearts as they looked at the sky
again. It was lightening to a paler blue now, the stars disappearing, and
they did not move.
Buffy
smiles, her hand pressed against his chest to feel his reborn heart beat.
“You really mean you never wished for this?” she asks at last.
He
pauses for a moment before answering. “I hoped,” he says at last.
If
it is possible, Buffy smiles even brighter. “I dreamed,” she admits.
He
smiles at her. “I know.”
Lying
in the long grass
close
beside her
giving
her the name
of
the one the moon loves
this
will be the day she
will
remember
when
she knew his heart was
loving
in the long grass
close
beside her
whispering
of love
and
the way it leaves them
lying
in the long grass
in
the sunlight
they
believe it’s true love
and
from all around them
flora’s
secret
telling
them of love
and
the way it breathes and
looking
up from eyes of
amaranthine
they
can see the sky is blue
knowing
that their love is true
dreams
they never knew
and
the sky above is blue
They
whispered admissions of love there on that grassy hillside. For the moment,
they forgot the battles in the town below and forgot everything it had
taken for them to get to this point. And though they had eyes for no one
but each other, the two lovers – once separated by their very natures, now
unexpectedly equals in every way – stayed there to watch the sun rise.
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