If she’s fine, then my name is Angel. And since my name is not Angel, she’s not fine. She tells me she is and then takes a deep breath indicating just how fine she’s not. I think we’ve established that she’s anything but fine. Or well, I have. The problem is that I’ve no idea why she’s not fine. She’s back home, everyone is in one piece, Giles and I haven’t murdered each other… Well, the thing she thought was Spike is still on the loose, but that’s a whole different ballgame.
And when she tells me she’s going out to Slay later this evening, I’m even more worried. I think I could go along. I mean, I’m not a hundred percent anymore but I could watch. I wince at that thought, because it reminds me a little bit to much about the job I tried to fill when I was here the last time. I think I should probably bring it differently. Especially with Giles around. Besides, I’ve really missed her and I would like to spend an evening with her. Slaying or otherwise.
Reaching out, I rubbed my thumb over the lip she stuck out in a small pout. I’ve no idea why she was pouting, just that this seemed to become an automatism with her. “I could go along,” I murmur, glancing over her shoulder into my kitchen. *My * kitchen, which seems to be invaded by witches and watchers. “Promise to behave and not get in your way. Unless you want to have some time alone?” Oh. I’d not thought of that. Ouch.
She’s upset, and somehow I doubt it has something to do with Spike. Oh, I’m sure there’s part of that involved, but that’s not what’s really gotten her upset. Giving her some space, I just wait for her to open up, which she will or will not do. She may love me, but she may not trust me enough to do so. And oddly enough, I understand that, where’s before that would’ve hurt me. We all live and learn from our mistakes indeed.
And when she’s done talking about Spike it finally clicks. She’s not upset because her friends are cooking in the kitchen without her, considering she told me she doesn’t cook much, doesn’t even like it much. She’s not upset because she didn’t catch Spike. She’s upset because she wants more then just being a Slayer and fighting the good fight.
She’s upset because she wants normalcy but knows she can never get it.
A frown creases my forehead as I move over to where she standing. I wrap my arms around her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I love you just the way you are.” God, that’s corny and also a song I think. But true nevertheless. “You’re doing everything you can, Buffy. But not even you can fight the whole world on your own. And even you need a break every now and then. There’s nothing wrong with that. Considering that I’m the one who’s telling you that,” I say, a lighter and hopefully more relaxed tone creeping into my voice, “Anally retentive chap who used to go by the book, should tell you that I know what I’m talking about.”
She felt distant. Even though she pressed against me, she felt a thousand miles away. I don’t know what it was I said, or what I’d done, but it was obviously wrong again. I wrecked my brain but came up blank as for coming up with where I went wrong this time. Apparently, I can’t say or do the right thing at any given time?
I keep hold of her at any rate, wondering if even that is the right thing to do. Which, I realize, isn’t, when she pulls away. There’s a flash of pain going over my face, but I managed to cover it up before she can see it. Everyone always leaves you in the end, Pryce. Why should this be any different? You’re not good enough. Ever.. Taking a deep breath, I wince at her words, or more the tone of her words and stare at the floor. Arms crossed over my chest, I take in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Just stay calm, she’s upset, she…doesn’t mean it that way.
“Well, you’ve been to Hell dimensions,” I murmur, which is probably wrong to say as well. Sighing, I drag my eyes up to look at her. “Do you want that?” I ask, knowing that she mostly thinks of herself as a Slayer, not just a woman with dreams. “Get married, have kids, I mean. Or travel? Would you like to travel? I could show you England?” I add hopefully that I’m saying the right words. I’m grasping at straws here, stumbling in the dark without a light. I am really not cut out for this sort of thing.
Whatever I said, it was quite obviously the wrong thing again. I could practically see her freeze up and turn cold. I don’t know what it was I said or did this time, but I was very close to just go back to my room and stay there for a week to figure things out. One moment she was in my arms and looked happy, the next she was moody and pissy at something without my knowing the reason. And I was left to wonder if it was something I’ve done. Or said.
Her reply was short and hard, not even thinking about my question of showing her England. I would’ve, even though there may be a chance of walking into my father. England is quite big, I could make sure that chance would’ve been slim to none and still show her where I was born and went to.. I guess she doesn’t care.
The hurt on my face was clearly visible when she just stepped past me and mostly *away* from me. What did I do wrong this time? I wanted to shout after her, but nothing came out, no words were formed, no sound left my lips. Sighing, I sat down on a rock we had dragged into the garden and stared out over the roses. I hadn’t even had a chance to show her the special rose I’d gotten her. Just for her.
“Okay!” A bright voice came from the doorway. “ Dinner is of the… where’s Buffy?”
I shrugged, twisting a piece of grass between my fingers. “I don’t know. She said she was going to check on you people.”
Dawn frowned and moved to sit across from me, tilting her head. “So what did you now to make her run away?”
“I don’t know,” I sighed dejectedly. I ran the entire conversation through my head again. I had held her, I had been trying to comfort her, I was trying - rather badly no doubt - to make light of the situation. I don’t get it. I really don’t. “Maybe it was…my joke?” I tried carefully.
Dawn eyed me and raised her eyebrow. “You tried to make a joke?” she snorted. “Yeah, okay, that would have anyone running for the hills.”
I looked at her hurt and was distinctly not pouting. “Its not that bad is it? I have a sense of humor. I’m not some cranky old fellow.” Am I? I used to smile a lot, I remember that. When exactly had I lost the ability to smile most of the day.
Dawn sobered up and patted my arm in a soothing gesture. “No, no,” she hastened to say. “I get the jokes, and Willow and Tara do to. Giles too if he would get his head out of his ass…”
“Dawn!”
“…Xander doesn’t get it though and y’know, most of the population of Sunnydale. You just have like…a strange sense of humor.”
Tactful. Diplomatic. Dawn had come a long way. Pity I could see right through it. “You’re saying I don’t have a sense of humor and Willow, Tara and you are just humoring *me*.” Still didn’t explain why Buffy felt the need to run. I mean, I hadn’t even made... Well yes, I had, but it wasn’t *that* bad.
“Nooo,” Dawn insisted. “We get it, we really do. Now come dinner is ready. Wouldn’t want you fall back now would we.” She got up and tugged on my hand to get me to move as well.
I sighed, obviously still confused by this all. I recall this book Cordelia had been quoting quite a lot. ‘Men are from Mars and Women from Venus’ or some such. I’m starting to wonder if the writer was perhaps on to something. I most certainly found myself stumped as I followed Dawn back into the house.
Following Dawn inside I blinked at the setting, suddenly very glad I’d gotten a rather large table. Mostly I’d gotten it with the idea that there were probably going to be a lot of books around and I needed the space. Might as well be fully prepared for that, but I hadn’t anticipated having almost the entire Scoobie clan coming over to dinner. And I’d not even made dinner.
Which was rather fortunate with my cooking, to be honest.
“Ooh that looks good. Doesn’t look good, Wes?” Dawn said, beaming up at me in an obvious effort to cheer me up.
“It looks nummy,” I agreed, sliding down in the seat next to Buffy. I returned her smile with a small one of my own before taking in the food. Normally I’d have put my hand on her leg, or knee or something. But I wasn’t sure if she wanted me to touch her. If she was mad at me or something. God, I was so confused!
“Could you pass the potatoes, please, Wesley,” Giles murmured, trying for civil.
“Certainly,” I nodded, handing him the potatoes, trying for civil as well. I think we were managing admirably. At least we weren’t shouting or insulting each other. “This is really lovely,” I announced, digging into the food. “Isn’t it, Buffy?” I added hesitantly.
Well this was cozy. Except for the fact that I didn’t know how to react toward Buffy anymore. I thought I’d been doing alright when she’d gotten back. I even check all off. Showed interest, tried to comfort her, tried to reassure her. And yet she al but ran away from me.
I still don’t get it.
And I doubt it was my sense of humor. I doubt even more that Buffy is going to explain this to me. Sometimes I wonder about women. Slayer or not.
“What?” I looked up at her words, somewhat ashamed that I’d not been following the conversation. Patrol? She and I were going on patrol. Right. “Oh yes, certainly.”
“You sure that’s a good idea?” Dawn asked, narrowing her eyes at me.
“I’m fine, Dawn,” I smiled at her. “Going out will do me some good.” Because Slaying vampires is good for ones health. Well, I did promise not to do any Slaying and stay out of the way. Now if only I could keep from ramming my foot down my mouth and choke on it.
Was he even listening to me? Didn't seem like it because it looked like he was taking a few seconds to try to remember what I had just said. Okay, that's really not good. I looked away from him and back down at my food. Putting my fork down, I cleared my throat and got up, grabbing my cup. "I'll be back," I said and held up my cup so they knew that I was going to get something to drink.
Of course, I wasn't. I just wanted out of there. I felt like crap and it wasn't in the sickly way either, it was just ... all mental I guess. God, was I PMSing? That would suck. Alot. Leaning against the counter out of view from all of them, I just stood there and took in the quiet. I liked the quiet. Alot of it, especially times like right now when I just wanted to be alone, but I knew that wasn't going ot happen because someone was going to come in here and see what I was doing.
Swallowing hard, I emptied out my drink really quick and then went and filled up again before walking back out and sitting down. They were all in the middle of a conversation and I continued to eat while I listened to them talk.
After dinner, I actually did help bring in everything and help put it all in the dishwasher. Once everything was done, I excused myself and went upstairs. Pulling out my slaying clothes, I laid them on the bed and got undressed before walking into the bathroom so I could put my hair up. I heard the door open slightly and I frowned, peeking my head out and seeing Wes there. I stood back in front of the mirror and finished putting my hair in a ponytail before walking back out and sitting on the bed so I could put on my pants.
"Are you ready?" I asked him and gave him a look as I stood back up to zip up my pants.
And up and away she is again. It’s almost as though she’d doing her damnest to avoid me. I still don’t know what it is that I’ve done wrong, but this isn’t going to help matters. I share a look with Dawn, who shrugs and looks utterly clueless herself. I’m starting to get nervous now, because I’ve finally told her that I loved her… I’m wondering if that was a mistake. She told me the same thing herself, but perhaps I wasn’t supposed to tell her? I just don’t know anymore.
Morosely, I pick at my food, mostly eating because otherwise Dawn, Willow and Tara will fuss again. Going on about how I should eat and build up my strength. I even manage a polite if not stiff conversation with Giles about something mundane. We don’t really venture into the heated discussion area, because we’re both desperately trying to keep the peace.
Once the dishes are done and everything is cleared away, Buffy bounces upstairs. I busy myself with saying goodbyes to our guests, promising them that I’ll take good care of myself, and Buffy course, closing the door on a glare from Giles which I choose to ignore. Then I wearily make my way upstairs where Buffy is getting ready for patrol. She doesn’t even turn around to look at me.
I want to ask her what I did wrong, but I don’t want to put my foot in my mouth. Or disturb her concentration just before she’s going on patrol. “Oh, yes. I’m ready,” I reply to her question, mustering up a smile for her.
And when she tells me she’s going out to Slay later this evening, I’m even more worried. I think I could go along. I mean, I’m not a hundred percent anymore but I could watch. I wince at that thought, because it reminds me a little bit to much about the job I tried to fill when I was here the last time. I think I should probably bring it differently. Especially with Giles around. Besides, I’ve really missed her and I would like to spend an evening with her. Slaying or otherwise.
Reaching out, I rubbed my thumb over the lip she stuck out in a small pout. I’ve no idea why she was pouting, just that this seemed to become an automatism with her. “I could go along,” I murmur, glancing over her shoulder into my kitchen. *My * kitchen, which seems to be invaded by witches and watchers. “Promise to behave and not get in your way. Unless you want to have some time alone?” Oh. I’d not thought of that. Ouch.
Reply
(The comment has been removed)
And when she’s done talking about Spike it finally clicks. She’s not upset because her friends are cooking in the kitchen without her, considering she told me she doesn’t cook much, doesn’t even like it much. She’s not upset because she didn’t catch Spike. She’s upset because she wants more then just being a Slayer and fighting the good fight.
She’s upset because she wants normalcy but knows she can never get it.
A frown creases my forehead as I move over to where she standing. I wrap my arms around her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I love you just the way you are.” God, that’s corny and also a song I think. But true nevertheless. “You’re doing everything you can, Buffy. But not even you can fight the whole world on your own. And even you need a break every now and then. There’s nothing wrong with that. Considering that I’m the one who’s telling you that,” I say, a lighter and hopefully more relaxed tone creeping into my voice, “Anally retentive chap who used to go by the book, should tell you that I know what I’m talking about.”
Reply
(The comment has been removed)
I keep hold of her at any rate, wondering if even that is the right thing to do. Which, I realize, isn’t, when she pulls away. There’s a flash of pain going over my face, but I managed to cover it up before she can see it. Everyone always leaves you in the end, Pryce. Why should this be any different? You’re not good enough. Ever.. Taking a deep breath, I wince at her words, or more the tone of her words and stare at the floor. Arms crossed over my chest, I take in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Just stay calm, she’s upset, she…doesn’t mean it that way.
“Well, you’ve been to Hell dimensions,” I murmur, which is probably wrong to say as well. Sighing, I drag my eyes up to look at her. “Do you want that?” I ask, knowing that she mostly thinks of herself as a Slayer, not just a woman with dreams. “Get married, have kids, I mean. Or travel? Would you like to travel? I could show you England?” I add hopefully that I’m saying the right words. I’m grasping at straws here, stumbling in the dark without a light. I am really not cut out for this sort of thing.
Reply
(The comment has been removed)
Her reply was short and hard, not even thinking about my question of showing her England. I would’ve, even though there may be a chance of walking into my father. England is quite big, I could make sure that chance would’ve been slim to none and still show her where I was born and went to.. I guess she doesn’t care.
The hurt on my face was clearly visible when she just stepped past me and mostly *away* from me. What did I do wrong this time? I wanted to shout after her, but nothing came out, no words were formed, no sound left my lips. Sighing, I sat down on a rock we had dragged into the garden and stared out over the roses. I hadn’t even had a chance to show her the special rose I’d gotten her. Just for her.
“Okay!” A bright voice came from the doorway. “ Dinner is of the… where’s Buffy?”
I shrugged, twisting a piece of grass between my fingers. “I don’t know. She said she was going to check on you people.”
Dawn frowned and moved to sit across from me, tilting her head. “So what did you now to make her run away?”
Reply
(The comment has been removed)
Dawn eyed me and raised her eyebrow. “You tried to make a joke?” she snorted. “Yeah, okay, that would have anyone running for the hills.”
I looked at her hurt and was distinctly not pouting. “Its not that bad is it? I have a sense of humor. I’m not some cranky old fellow.” Am I? I used to smile a lot, I remember that. When exactly had I lost the ability to smile most of the day.
Dawn sobered up and patted my arm in a soothing gesture. “No, no,” she hastened to say. “I get the jokes, and Willow and Tara do to. Giles too if he would get his head out of his ass…”
“Dawn!”
“…Xander doesn’t get it though and y’know, most of the population of Sunnydale. You just have like…a strange sense of humor.”
Tactful. Diplomatic. Dawn had come a long way. Pity I could see right through it. “You’re saying I don’t have a sense of humor and Willow, Tara and you are just humoring *me*.” Still didn’t explain why Buffy felt the need to run. I mean, I hadn’t even made... Well yes, I had, but it wasn’t *that* bad.
“Nooo,” Dawn insisted. “We get it, we really do. Now come dinner is ready. Wouldn’t want you fall back now would we.” She got up and tugged on my hand to get me to move as well.
I sighed, obviously still confused by this all. I recall this book Cordelia had been quoting quite a lot. ‘Men are from Mars and Women from Venus’ or some such. I’m starting to wonder if the writer was perhaps on to something. I most certainly found myself stumped as I followed Dawn back into the house.
Reply
(The comment has been removed)
Which was rather fortunate with my cooking, to be honest.
“Ooh that looks good. Doesn’t look good, Wes?” Dawn said, beaming up at me in an obvious effort to cheer me up.
“It looks nummy,” I agreed, sliding down in the seat next to Buffy. I returned her smile with a small one of my own before taking in the food. Normally I’d have put my hand on her leg, or knee or something. But I wasn’t sure if she wanted me to touch her. If she was mad at me or something. God, I was so confused!
“Could you pass the potatoes, please, Wesley,” Giles murmured, trying for civil.
“Certainly,” I nodded, handing him the potatoes, trying for civil as well. I think we were managing admirably. At least we weren’t shouting or insulting each other. “This is really lovely,” I announced, digging into the food. “Isn’t it, Buffy?” I added hesitantly.
Reply
(The comment has been removed)
I still don’t get it.
And I doubt it was my sense of humor. I doubt even more that Buffy is going to explain this to me. Sometimes I wonder about women. Slayer or not.
“What?” I looked up at her words, somewhat ashamed that I’d not been following the conversation. Patrol? She and I were going on patrol. Right. “Oh yes, certainly.”
“You sure that’s a good idea?” Dawn asked, narrowing her eyes at me.
“I’m fine, Dawn,” I smiled at her. “Going out will do me some good.” Because Slaying vampires is good for ones health. Well, I did promise not to do any Slaying and stay out of the way. Now if only I could keep from ramming my foot down my mouth and choke on it.
Reply
Of course, I wasn't. I just wanted out of there. I felt like crap and it wasn't in the sickly way either, it was just ... all mental I guess. God, was I PMSing? That would suck. Alot. Leaning against the counter out of view from all of them, I just stood there and took in the quiet. I liked the quiet. Alot of it, especially times like right now when I just wanted to be alone, but I knew that wasn't going ot happen because someone was going to come in here and see what I was doing.
Swallowing hard, I emptied out my drink really quick and then went and filled up again before walking back out and sitting down. They were all in the middle of a conversation and I continued to eat while I listened to them talk.
After dinner, I actually did help bring in everything and help put it all in the dishwasher. Once everything was done, I excused myself and went upstairs. Pulling out my slaying clothes, I laid them on the bed and got undressed before walking into the bathroom so I could put my hair up. I heard the door open slightly and I frowned, peeking my head out and seeing Wes there. I stood back in front of the mirror and finished putting my hair in a ponytail before walking back out and sitting on the bed so I could put on my pants.
"Are you ready?" I asked him and gave him a look as I stood back up to zip up my pants.
Reply
Morosely, I pick at my food, mostly eating because otherwise Dawn, Willow and Tara will fuss again. Going on about how I should eat and build up my strength. I even manage a polite if not stiff conversation with Giles about something mundane. We don’t really venture into the heated discussion area, because we’re both desperately trying to keep the peace.
Once the dishes are done and everything is cleared away, Buffy bounces upstairs. I busy myself with saying goodbyes to our guests, promising them that I’ll take good care of myself, and Buffy course, closing the door on a glare from Giles which I choose to ignore. Then I wearily make my way upstairs where Buffy is getting ready for patrol. She doesn’t even turn around to look at me.
I want to ask her what I did wrong, but I don’t want to put my foot in my mouth. Or disturb her concentration just before she’s going on patrol. “Oh, yes. I’m ready,” I reply to her question, mustering up a smile for her.
Reply
Leave a comment