Worth It
Title: Worth It
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Author: Dralf
Wordcount: 589
Setting: Post-NFA
Characters/Pairings: Buffy/Angel
Rating: G
Disclaimer: These are Joss Whedon's toys. I'm just playing with them.
Summary: One Christmas Eve, she turns up on his door.
Notes: Written for the prompt 'Present' from the Christmas Box Prompts over at writers_toybox. I was going to write one large story using all the prompts, but I've gotten stuck there. I'll figure it out when I have more time. For now, enjoy this short, fluffy fic. Happy Holidays to all!
He expects to spend Christmas alone, but on Christmas Eve, the doorbell rings. He expects carolers or a salesman, maybe even a neighbor asking for sugar, but it’s her.
It’s Buffy.
Her skin’s a healthy, golden tan and her hair’s a sleek waterfall of blonde. She’s beautiful and mature and different, even from when he last saw her before the battle with the First. She’s smiling too and holding a plate of cookies shaped like Christmas trees and snowmen.
The cookies are what shock him out of his paralysis.
“Buffy.”
“Angel.” She smiles, memories of previous encounters when they’d greeted each other exactly the same way surfacing in both their heads. “Can I come in?”
Angel nods and steps aside so she can get in. He doesn’t understand why she’s here instead of with Dawn or Giles or any of the other Scoobies. It’s Christmas Eve, the time for family and friends. What’s she doing here?
Not that he’s unhappy. Far from it.
Once they’re both settled on the sofa, silence falls. He doesn’t know what to say to her right now. Questions pound through his head along with the urge to just snatch her up and kiss her. He wants to, but he doesn’t know why she’s here and there’s so many years between them that he doesn’t know what to do anymore.
She breaks the silence. “Do you remember that cookie metaphor I made? Before the battle with the First?”
“I could never forget.” He replies honestly, watching this woman he once knew so well with interest.
Buffy looks down at the cookies and starts, “I don’t know if I’ll ever figure everything out in my life. I’m never going to be fully baked cookies. Except maybe when I’m old and wrinkled.” Her nose crinkles at the thought and he smiles.
“Anyway, I did realize something.” Now she looks up at him and her eyes are blazing with emotion. “I want to spend my life with you. I know I’m underbaked with patches gooey dough…” Buffy trails off and laughs.
He laughs with her and it feels so good to just be sitting there, laughing at the ridiculousness of her metaphor. “Maybe you should drop the cookie metaphor.”
She shakes her head. “It didn’t sound so bad in my head.”
Buffy turns serious again. “Angel, I want to be with you. I know there’s a lot we need to talk about and I know it’s not going to be easy, but I want to try.”
“Buffy…”
Angel reaches for her. She scoots closer to him, never breaking eye contact until she’s pressed tightly against his chest, his arms encircling her.
He stares down at her blonde hair, thinking about everything that lies between them. The curse, the words, the pain, the years - it’s all so much and he’s uncertain if they can surpass it. But he loves her and she loves him and maybe that’s all they need. Maybe it’ll be enough and even so, isn’t their love worth a chance?
“I want to try too.” Angel admits to her.
She pulls back, staring at him. Then a broad smile breaks out on her face and she leans up. He presses his lips against hers and when she begs for entrance, he complies. His tongue savors her, relishing in her taste. In that moment, the years seem to melt away and it’s just the two of them. No baggage, no pain, just love.
As they pull apart, Angel feels that this is exactly as it should be.
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Author: Dralf
Wordcount: 589
Setting: Post-NFA
Characters/Pairings: Buffy/Angel
Rating: G
Disclaimer: These are Joss Whedon's toys. I'm just playing with them.
Summary: One Christmas Eve, she turns up on his door.
Notes: Written for the prompt 'Present' from the Christmas Box Prompts over at writers_toybox. I was going to write one large story using all the prompts, but I've gotten stuck there. I'll figure it out when I have more time. For now, enjoy this short, fluffy fic. Happy Holidays to all!
He expects to spend Christmas alone, but on Christmas Eve, the doorbell rings. He expects carolers or a salesman, maybe even a neighbor asking for sugar, but it’s her.
It’s Buffy.
Her skin’s a healthy, golden tan and her hair’s a sleek waterfall of blonde. She’s beautiful and mature and different, even from when he last saw her before the battle with the First. She’s smiling too and holding a plate of cookies shaped like Christmas trees and snowmen.
The cookies are what shock him out of his paralysis.
“Buffy.”
“Angel.” She smiles, memories of previous encounters when they’d greeted each other exactly the same way surfacing in both their heads. “Can I come in?”
Angel nods and steps aside so she can get in. He doesn’t understand why she’s here instead of with Dawn or Giles or any of the other Scoobies. It’s Christmas Eve, the time for family and friends. What’s she doing here?
Not that he’s unhappy. Far from it.
Once they’re both settled on the sofa, silence falls. He doesn’t know what to say to her right now. Questions pound through his head along with the urge to just snatch her up and kiss her. He wants to, but he doesn’t know why she’s here and there’s so many years between them that he doesn’t know what to do anymore.
She breaks the silence. “Do you remember that cookie metaphor I made? Before the battle with the First?”
“I could never forget.” He replies honestly, watching this woman he once knew so well with interest.
Buffy looks down at the cookies and starts, “I don’t know if I’ll ever figure everything out in my life. I’m never going to be fully baked cookies. Except maybe when I’m old and wrinkled.” Her nose crinkles at the thought and he smiles.
“Anyway, I did realize something.” Now she looks up at him and her eyes are blazing with emotion. “I want to spend my life with you. I know I’m underbaked with patches gooey dough…” Buffy trails off and laughs.
He laughs with her and it feels so good to just be sitting there, laughing at the ridiculousness of her metaphor. “Maybe you should drop the cookie metaphor.”
She shakes her head. “It didn’t sound so bad in my head.”
Buffy turns serious again. “Angel, I want to be with you. I know there’s a lot we need to talk about and I know it’s not going to be easy, but I want to try.”
“Buffy…”
Angel reaches for her. She scoots closer to him, never breaking eye contact until she’s pressed tightly against his chest, his arms encircling her.
He stares down at her blonde hair, thinking about everything that lies between them. The curse, the words, the pain, the years - it’s all so much and he’s uncertain if they can surpass it. But he loves her and she loves him and maybe that’s all they need. Maybe it’ll be enough and even so, isn’t their love worth a chance?
“I want to try too.” Angel admits to her.
She pulls back, staring at him. Then a broad smile breaks out on her face and she leans up. He presses his lips against hers and when she begs for entrance, he complies. His tongue savors her, relishing in her taste. In that moment, the years seem to melt away and it’s just the two of them. No baggage, no pain, just love.
As they pull apart, Angel feels that this is exactly as it should be.