full 3/4 1/2   skin light dark       
 
Gentle Whisper of Souls by Chelle
 
The Telling
 
<<     >>
 
Chapter 5: The Telling

Author's Notes: Ahhhh, let's get right down to the heart of the matter.



An hour later they pulled into an overlook where the city twinkled below them and the stars glittered above like magnificent jewels. Buffy finished the last of her fries and wadded up the paper, putting them into the bag. “Fast food. The food of champions.”

She grinned and stepped from the car. Angel and Spike both followed her, flanking her sides.

“You like the view?” Angel asked.

“It’s perfect. I came here once. Before I was the Slayer. I sneaked out of the house to meet a boy named Tyler and he brought me here on the back of his motorcycle.” She pointed to a small patch of grass beside the protective railing of the cliffs. “I got my first kiss right there on a plaid blanket that smelled like mothballs. I thought that was the greatest thing that had ever happened to me.”

“How old were you?” Spike asked.

“I was fourteen. And he had just turned seventeen. He broke up with me a week later and a month after that he wrapped his bike around a telephone pole and died instantly.” She seemed to realize that she was letting her guard down and shook her head. “People are disappointing that way.”

“How do you like Italy?” Angel asked her.

“It’s Italy,” Buffy replied. The food had killed her buzz and her head was beginning to throb. “They speak funny and eat a lot of carbs.”

“Are you happy there?” He watched her closely. Her eyes had a distinct out of focus look to them. Something beyond the alcohol.

“Is anyone ever really happy?” Buffy pushed off from the hood of the car, where she had been reclining, and walked to the edge of the cliffs. “I would be happy if I could fly.” She stretched her arms out to the sides and relished the feel of the wind in her hair. “I’d never land.”

“I’m sure Dawn would take exception to that.” Spike joined her, instinctively moving between her and the mouth of the cliffs.

“Dawn is with a very handsome, very perfect guy named Diego. I doubt she’d notice.”

“Well, then I would take exception,” Spike replied.

“You didn’t seem to take exception to me not knowing you were back,” Buffy answered sweetly. “Not that I can even be surprised. Like we established. People are disappointing.”

Clenching his jaw, Spike stared down at her upturned face. “You got stuff inside of you that you need to let out.”

“I really don’t.” Buffy moved away. She glanced over her shoulder at the two of them and exhaled loudly. “You guys are going to attempt to psychoanalyze me. Aren’t you? That’s your mission.”

“We just want to help.” Angel took a step toward her, but she held up a hand, stopping him.

“Is that tranquilizer gun you tried, and failed, to hide in the alleyway supposed to be of service in this version of helping Buffy?” She didn’t wait for a reply. “Because I gotta be honest, I’m not loving the after effects of whatever that crap was and I’d like to avoid the whole being shot thing.”

“I just brought it to -”


”Save me from myself?” Buffy queried. “That’s probably your reasoning, but it’s flawed, Angel. See? I’m kinda a lost cause. You don’t realize that yet, but you will. And I really hope that I don’t have to see you when you do piece it together and realize it because that would kinda suck. I might actually feel something for you besides anger and resentment and I just can’t have that.”

“Why?” Angel replied. “Why can’t you feel?”

“It’s such a bother.” Buffy glanced up at the sky and watched a shooting star blaze across the horizon. “It’s such a waste of time. You spent eons brooding and thinking and feeling and in the end it didn’t accomplish anything.”

“I did.” Angel told her. “I accomplished a lot. I learned how to love you.”

With a very loud snort, Buffy crossed her arms. “You loved me so much that you left me. Left town, even. You couldn’t be far enough away from me. And then Riley left. Giles left. And Spike.” She looked at the blond who stood a little straighter. “You left me, too. So why should I feel anything good about any of you people when you’ve been a constant, say it with me now, disappointment?”

“Life is disappointing, love.” Spike moved to stand next to her. “But we take what lessons we can get and move on.”

“That’s what I’m doing. I’m moving on.”

“Without your friends?” Angel asked.

“That was their choice.” Buffy turned to look back out over the city. “You heard Giles’s version of events. Wanna hear mine?”

“I’d love to.” Angel sat down on the railing so he could watch her, his back to the city. Spike sat a few feet away.

“Oh, a captive audience.” Running her hands through her hair, she sighed. “Where do I start?”

“What happened with you and Red?” Spike asked.

“Willow chose Kennedy.”

Spike gave her an incredulous look. “You wanted to be a lesbian with Willow?”

“No, idiot,” Buffy shot back. “Kennedy and I never saw eye to eye about *anything*. She hated me and I hated her. After a few weeks of grating on each other’s nerves we came to blows over something so stupid and trivial that I don’t even remember what it was. But I was so mad that I kicked her ass. Faith broke it up and by then I realized that it had gone too far. I mean, Kennedy was kinda hurt. So, I turned around to get the first aid kit and Kennedy stabbed me in the back.” She lifted her shirt, revealing the scar. “Willow saw the entire thing and instead of helping me or saying anything, she took Kennedy and left. For a long time. I left Italy before she came back. And if either one of you try to say that she was right to do that, this conversation ends.”

“Fair enough. What happened with Giles?” Angel asked.

“He forgot every single thing I ever did that was good. He told me that I wasn’t the best person to be leading these girls, the new Slayers. In an instant he took all of the glory out of what I’ve done and diminished it down to just the mistakes I’ve made. He chose to put Faith in charge and she’s done way more bad shit than me!”

“Buffy, in his defense, he thought you needed a break.” Angel stated in a low voice. “He said that you were very distraught over the whole Kennedy thing and he felt like you jumping another Slayer in front of everyone was out of line.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t jump her. Spike, tell him how they all kicked me out of my house! My own house!”

“I have.” Spike shook his head. “You see that I’m not the pansy ass defending them. If you hate them, I’ll hate them, too.”

Angel smacked him hard on the back of the head. “Grow a pair!”

Spike got to his feet and hovered a second over Angel, who looked bored and made a show of yawning. Turning, Spike joined Buffy and said, “We could shove him over if we did it quick like.” He moved closer to her when he noticed how pale she had become. “You okay, love?”

Buffy reached up and touched the scar on his eyebrow. “Did it hurt? When you got it?”

“Like the dickens.” Spike traced the scar with his own fingertip. “Left a big scar, huh? I wouldn’t know. I can’t see it.”

“Mine are inside. They used to hurt like the dickens, too.” She brushed past them and retrieved her bag from the car, fishing a flask out of the bottom. Draining the contents, she wiped her mouth off on her sleeve and gazed at the two of them. “Is there anything else? What more do you need to know before you either shoot me or take me back to my car.”

“Is your soul okay?” Angel asked her point blank. “Or has The Immortal whispered out pieces of it?”

Buffy raised her eyebrow in shock. “Apparently you’ve done your homework. If you got that far then you must know the answer.”

Spike felt his heart fall into the pit of his stomach. “Can we get it back?”

She looked at him through glassy eyes, her face a mask. “The question is not whether or not you can get it back. The question is why would I let you?”



Angel moved around the car and gripped her upper arms, shaking her harder than he probably should have. “Tell us! Stop playing games and tell us if your soul has been tampered with.”

Buffy, who had been very cautious because of the presence of the tranquilizer gun, felt rage began to build inside of her with every rough movement he made. “Let me go!” she finally yelled, shoving him so hard that he landed on his backside near the mouth of the cliffs. “You son of a -”

“Hey!” Spike shouted, grabbing Buffy as she lunged toward Angel.

Without thinking at all, Buffy tossed him easily over her shoulder and he landed with a loud thud right next to Angel. Grabbing her bag, Buffy made a move to run, but she was tackled and sailed through the air, landing hard on her elbow and knee. She cried out, more from shock than pain, and rolled onto her side.

A shadow fell across her and she saw Angel standing there, hand extended. “Get up,” he said.

She deftly kicked his feet out from under him then brought her leg down hard, catching him across the face with her boot. His face changed immediately and he grabbed her as she stumbled to her feet, pulling her back against his chest. “Stop it, Buffy!” he growled, low in her ear.

“Let go!” Buffy screamed, jerking her head backwards into his nose and mouth. He grunted loudly and released her.

She spun and kicked out again, this time sending him flying toward the small patch of grass she had indicated early.

Her bag was lying near the back tire of the car and as she limped toward it, she heard a click, then felt a sharp prick in her leg. Glancing down, she saw a small dart and she reached for it. But before she could pull it free, her legs buckled.

Angel shot to his feet and pinned her back against the car before she could hit the ground. He watched her head roll backwards, her eyes close, and glanced over at Spike. “We’re not shooting her, huh?”

“I figured she’d kill me when she was done with you. Survival instinct and all that rot.”

“Bastard,” Buffy mumbled, unable to push Angel away, unable to free herself.

At once her body felt like it had been thoroughly massaged. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so completely at ease, so completely relaxed.

Angel held her easily, all the fight apparently gone from her body. He pinned both of her arms at her sides and held her there. “You’re going to tell us exactly what happened with The Immortal, Buffy, and you’re going to start right now.”

“Sleepy,” she replied, leaning her head forward against his chest. “I want to go home.”

“Not until you talk.” Angel picked her up and told Spike to open the car door. He slipped her into the seat, grabbed her bag and waited for Spike to crawl into the back before he made his way to the driver’s side. Once inside, he regarded her for several seconds. “How did you meet The Immortal?”

“I already told you. In London.”

“What did he want from you?” Angel grabbed a napkin from the bag that Buffy’s food had come in and held it to his lip, which had been cut in the fight.

Buffy glanced over at him. “You’re bleeding.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Good.”

“What did he want from you?” Angel said a little louder.

“He offered me a job. I already told you that, too.”

“What kind of job?”

Buffy leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. “He needed a secretary.”

“Bull shit,” Spike said, leaning between the two bucket seats so he could see her. “Why would he need a secretary?”

“Why does Angel need a secretary?” Buffy asked. “Because The Immortal can’t do jack for himself. That’s why.”

“What did you have to do?” Angel pressed.

“You know, file his papers, balance his finances, kill his enemies.”

“You killed for him,” Spike snorted angrily. “What, the big bad has no balls of his own?”

“A Vespara demon is full of purity and goodness when it feeds.” Buffy stared out the window, wondering how long she would feel like she was floating outside her body. “They can’t kill on their own. Not even another demon. They don’t have it in them unless they haven’t fed on a fresh soul and then they only do it to replenish themselves. He has enemies who would do anything to kill him. I took care of that problem.”

“So you were his bodyguard?”

Buffy regarded Spike over her shoulder. “What? Aren’t you Angel’s bodyguard? Didn’t you just shoot me for your man?”

Spike narrowed his eyes, but before he could form a reply, Angel interrupted. “Did he whisper your soul?”

Buffy stopped scowling at Spike and tried to focus on Angel, who seemed to be floating in a circular pattern in front of her. “Yes. I - I know he did at least once, but I don’t know if that’s all. I was never really sure if he did or if it was me building up walls against my friends. Either could be true.”

Spike asked quietly. “Is that the real reason you cut your friends out of your life?”

“They cut me. Remember Sunnydale? They kicked me out of my own house. They chose Faith as their leader. I didn’t do that.”

Spike nodded. “I remember, Slayer, but I also remember that you all fought side by side afterwards. That counts for something.”

“I don’t care.” Buffy closed her eyes again. “I’m dizzy.”

“If you know that he can take your soul then why are you still around him?” Angel said.

“I can’t talk about this, okay?” Putting her face in her hands, she tried hard to gain some kind of control over whatever it was in the tranquilizer gun this time that had her ready to spill her guts. “You gave me some souped up truth serum. I know you did!”

“You never could lie to me,” Angel told her, laying his hand on her shoulder. “I’m not going to judge you. I’m not going to get upset. Whatever it is, we can fight it together.”

Spike rolled his eyes heavenward. “Just can’t keep your hands off ..” he mumbled under his breath. Angel shot him a look, so Spike cleared his throat and added, “He’s right. We can help you.”

Buffy turned in the seat and regarded both of them. For so long Angel had been her life, her everything. Looking at him now she could easily remember pouring her heart out to him about everything from school, to homework, to her mother’s boyfriend. She could even remember what it felt like to curl into his lap and cry against his chest, his big, strong arms wrapped tightly around her. She could almost feel his lips against her ear as he whispered that he would always be there for her.

She turned her attention to Spike, wishing she could trace the cool plane of his cheek, rub her thumb over the his high cheekbone and fall asleep with his hand on her hip, the way they used to do. She remembered the way he took care of Dawn, the way he had held her wounded hands in his the night that she had clawed her way from the grave. She remembered the ecstasy in his arms, the way he knew every curve of her body. The way he held her that final night, telling her over and over again that it would be okay.
They were both her champions. Both were her salvation at different times in her life. Both would have died for her to save her a second of agony and here they were again, pleading with her, ready to fight The Immortal for her.

And she was fighting them every step of the way.

The pain was surfacing. Becoming something tangible. She needed the serum.

Swallowing hard, she took a deep breath. “I’ll tell you everything. I just need to go to my hotel room first.”

“No,” Angel and Spike replied together.

Her shirt felt too tight across her chest as her heart constricted painfully, flooding her with beautiful reminders of why she would trust the both of them with her life. With Dawn’s life. With the fate of the world.

“Don’t,” she shied away when Angel reached for her again and fumbled with the door. “I- I have to get some air.”

Angel locked the door, but cracked the window. When Buffy turned to look at him, there was a pleading in her eyes that had been absent since he’d seen her. For the first time since she had come to Los Angeles, the dead, vacant look was gone from her face and her eyes actually sparkled with unshed tears.

“He’s going to be able to find me if I don’t stop it.” Buffy said quickly, her voice cracking. “I have to stop the emotion. I have to stop the pain. Please take me to my hotel. Please! He’ll come and I’m not ready for him to come.”

“What do you mean stop the pain?” Angel asked.

“You just have to trust me. I know that I haven’t given you a reason to, but Angel, I know what I’m doing. Take me to the hotel and then I’ll tell you everything. I swear. But you have to take me right now.” She leaned across him and started the engine, then squeezed his hand. “You can shoot me again if you need to.”

The tears threatened to spill when he gently caressed her hand. “Please,” she cried. “He doesn’t know I’m here. He can’t find unless he feels me and he feels pain.”

“I think we should go,” Spike said, staring at their entwined fingers.

Buffy gave him a look of gratitude as Angel put the car in reverse and began the descent into the city.


 
<<     >>