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Take Me To The Ice-Show
I started this fic ages
ago, and never finished it. But now I did. It’s still pretty crappy, I’m
afraid, but now that it’s written, I thought, what the heck, out with it.
So here it is. It’s not serious, and it’s set in season 3 BtVS, so waaaaay
back. Maybe some of you still enjoy!
Author:
Jill
Disclaimer: hysterical
laughter – not even in my dreams I would want them – oh wait, should I say
nightmares?
Category: Romance/Humor
Pairing: B/A
Rating: G
Distribution: my site ffnet, several lists
including BA_Fluff, if you have any of my stuff, just take it, anybody else
please tell me where it goes
Spoilers: the whole Buffy
and Angel canon up to the end the season 3 episode “Helpless”
Summary: What if Buffy
hadn’t thrown those tickets her father sent her into the trash, and put
them to good use instead?
Feedback: oh yes,
please!!! send it to scarlet180482@yahoo.de
or
to Connemara.Scarlets@t-online.de
Dedication: For my friend
Ines, whose birthday I forgot I while ago. Sorry, sweetie.
“Here, here,”
Buffy cries excitedly, tugging at my arm. “That’s our row, and there are
our seats, eleven and twelve.” Her face is practically glowing with
excitement, and I can’t take my eyes off her. I’m just getting a glimpse of
the normal girl she always wanted to be, and it’s breathtaking. Which
doesn’t mean I’m completely enjoying being here.
“Buffy-,” I try
to protest but that simply makes her pull harder.
“Don’t be a
spoilsport, Angel,” she says without looking at me. She’s far too busy
stepping over legs of people who have been here before us, didn’t have to
dust four vamps on their way over. On the plus side, those four won’t hurt
humans again, so there’s actually a reason to feel good about it. At least
if I can look over the rectangular tear in my favourite pants and the grass
stain on Buffy’s red dress.
I have to swallow
looking at her in the little red nothing she wears. I’m not sure if the
name “dress” really fits. I’m not even sure if you can call it clothing at
all. It’s tight and red and … I groan inwardly, trying to get my mind to
other things than Buffy’s beautiful backside wiggling right before me, then
glare at the guy staring at her.
“Hey, be
careful.”
Buffy stops for a
moment, then gives the woman who has complained a dazzling smile, “Sorry,”
she apologizes, at the same moment tugging my arm again. The woman glares
at her, her dyed red hair in stark contrast to her overdone makeup, and the
wrinkles she tried to cover with it.
Buffy grins at
her again, tugging at my arm for a third time. I follow her with a sigh,
and pray that this soon will be over, than we can go back to the mansion
and to a lot less scary things, like vampires … or demons.
“I don’t know,
Buffy-“
“Here we are,”
she announces the same moment, pushing me into a seat, that seems too small
for me, there’s not enough space for my legs, and generally I’m feeling
uncomfortable amongst all the people around us. The woman beside me is in
her sixties, and she’s happily munching a bag of nachos, something that’s
instantly reminding me of Xander.
God, what did I
ever do to deserve this?
“Isn’t it great?”
Buffy beams beside me, sighing happily as she looks out to the ice. “My dad
took me here every year since I was six. I loved it. It’s like being
someone completely different for one night.”
Another life,
huh? It’s not as if my life has been free of such pleasures. I used to go
to the opera – quite often actually. I even knew some of the singers, one
or two I ate … which … thinking about it, doesn’t sound too bad right now,
when I try to block out the munching noises beside me.
Anyways. I used
to be an outgoing person actually. I know, it’s hard to believe these days,
but hey … people change. Or rather souls change people … or … non-people.
And I’m used to a lot of things. There isn’t a lot I haven’t seen.
But an Ice-show?
“You liked
watching me ice-skating, remember.” Once again my red-dressed companion
beams up at me, her eyes sparkling with life and happiness.
I went there to
see you, I want to tell her, I wanted to be with you, but can’t in the face
of her relaxed happiness. Whatever she would’ve chosen for tonight, I’d
have been happy with it. “Yeah,” I agree weakly, trying to squeeze my large
frame between Buffy and the fat woman beside us. On the plus side it means
I can sit so close to Buffy as if I’m permanently attached to her. On the
negative I am reminded that being close to her like this isn’t actually
allowed.
And once again my
mind wanders to her tight red nothing and how her backside …
“Lighten up,
Angel,” she grins at me. “Fun will be good for you. You’re far too serious
anyway.”
What I good idea
I chose the wide pants – and decided to keep the duster on for the night.
“Something I
can’t say for you,” I grumble, shrugging deeper into my coat. God, I wish I
could just disappear. She gives me a look before she reaches for the
popcorn I bought her. The lights go down and music starts and to my
surprise it’s classic music. Carmen.
Buffy goes to
something to listen to classic music?
Frowning slightly
I keep my eyes on the ice where a spotlight announces the arrival of a
skater. It’s a man, dressed like a torero, which is a little bit ridiculous
given the fact that the bull is missing, but the music is still good, and
so I think I can live through it.
Glancing at Buffy
I see her eyes glued on the ice, following each step, each jump of the
artist. For a moment I feel jealous then instantly dismiss the thought. But
I have to admit he looks kind of hot in that dress. Unfortunately Buffy
seems to think the same. Her eyes are glued to him. They said his name was
Brian Boytano.
What kind of
stupid name is that, anyway?
“Isn’t he simply
perfect?” Her question is merely rhetorical, but I decide to answer it
nevertheless.
“He certainly
looks well trained,” I whisper, leaning over to her. “Still, I wonder how
he’d look in a fight with a vampire.”
She gives me the
evil eye before she turns her gaze back to the guy in the skin tight dress,
and I start wondering about the real reason she came. Maybe it has nothing
to do with the actual ice-show and everything with men in dresses that hide
close to nothing.
“He’s an artist,”
she says without looking at me.
“He’s not an
artist,” I argue. “He’s a sportsman. Believe me, I know all about artists.”
“I suppose you
do,” she mutters. “Probably ate one or two as well.”
Oh, thanks so
very much. The problem is, she’s not wrong. I did eat some of them. One of
two of them were even famous. Jealousy still getting the better of me, I
bite out, “Unfortunately I missed sportsmen completely.”
She narrows her
eyes, but doesn’t look. “Maybe I should’ve invited Xander. He would at
least appreciate going out with me.”
And the mere
thought of Xander seeing her in that little red nothing she wears… “Are you
trying to drive me crazy?”
She actually
giggles at that, then takes a deep breath, and looks at me. “No. I’m sorry,
Angel. I don’t want to get you worked up. It’s just that I’m enjoying this
ice-show and I kind of hoped you would, too. You never go out, so … so … I
thought-“
She gives a
little, helpless shrug, and her expression is so disappointed, I melt right
at her feet. I don’t want her to be disappointed. I want her to be happy
and glowing, and enjoying her evening. It’s her birthday after all. “*I’m*
sorry. This is your birthday. And you’re supposed to have fun.”
“I am having
fun,” she insists, but she doesn’t look like it, and I feel like the worst
heel.
“Buffy-“
“Angel-“
We laugh at each
other, both having spoken at that same time.
“You first,” I
tell her.
Her nose
scrunches in that adorable way it always does, “To tell you the truth. It’s
kind of dumb anyway. I’ve seen the same thing at least twice.”
“You mean it?” I
try not to let too much hope infuse my voice.
“I do.” She leans
over and pecks my cheek. It’s just a little touch of her lips to my skin
and it makes me shiver. Suddenly her eyes twinkle, “It’s Tuesday, isn’t
it?”
After a second I
feel a grin spread over my features. “Yeah.”
She grins right
back. “Then lets go.”
***
And so, not half
an hour later, we find ourselves at the ice-rink where our last date was so
rudely interrupted by the Order of Taraka. We made a stop at her house on
our way to pick up her skates and now she’s gliding over the surface,
looking so beautiful, I wish I had the right to show her how special she
really is. But unfortunately a curse and …
… or maybe there
is a way … maybe a little painful, but at least it’s not going to endanger
my soul.
So only a few
moments later I set my feet on the slippery surface, too, feeling like my
legs have turned into a pair of spaghetti. I’ve never been on skates
before, and the ones I found in the corner aren’t exactly my size either.
But the look on her face, the huge grin I see lighting up her eyes is worth
it.
“Angel,” she
laughs, gliding over to me. “Do you even know how to do this?”
“No,” I admit.
“But that doesn’t mean I can try.”
She laughs again.
“You have to be the only vampire on skates.”
“Probably for
good reason,” I mutter, feeling my feet slip from underneath me. The last
possible moment, Buffy grabs my arm to keep me upright.
“Poor baby,” she
grins.
Still holding her
hand, I grow serious, “We can’t actually do a lot of things … you know
date-like things.” She grows serious as well, and I go on. “But I thought,
well, we could at least share this. And maybe the next time you invite me
to an ice-show I’ll be able to appreciate it.”
Instantly her
eyes grow watery, and she blinks. “Oh, Angel.”
“Hey,” with my
free hand I tilt up her head. “Only smiles allowed tonight.”
She smiles while
a tear slips from her right eye, “I don’t need ice-shows for my birthday.
All I need is you. All I want is you.”
We both smile,
remembering another moment we shared. In a graveyard, when we still let
ourselves believe in the impossible. I let my thumb follow the trace the
tear has left, allowing myself the joy of feeling her satiny skin. “I never
wanted anything else. But-“
“No,” she
interrupts me. “No buts tonight. We can think about buts tomorrow.”
We share another
smile. “Agreed,” I reply, and take a deep, unnecessary breath. “So. Are you
going to show me how to do this, or not? Because I’m freezing.”
“Do not,” she
says, grinning again. “You’re a vampire.”
“And?”
“That means no
body heat. You’re cold anyway.”
I give her a
dramatic sigh, “You know all my secrets.”
“Yeah,” she
laughs. “Always keep that in mind.” Then she lets her hand slip from my
arm.
“Hey,” I protest,
feeling my legs slip again. “Buffy!”
“Just copy what
I’m doing, Angel,” she tells me, starting to glide ahead.
And I do. In the
end my whole body hurts, and if I was human I’d be black and blue. But I
don’t mind. Because for one night she was almost a normal girl. And even
though I was far from being a normal boyfriend, we let ourselves forget
about all the darkness that usually surrounds us.
For one night the
laughter won. And I will treasure it forever.
END
Thanks for taking
the time to read. Please send feedback to Connemara.Scarlets@t-online.de
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