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Just Across the Hall, part 4 by indie & tango EMAIL: indiefic@hotmail.com & tangofic@hotmail.com ***** Angel had just killed the engine and was getting ready to collapse in bed next to Buffy when the phone rang. With a heavy sigh, he reached for it. "Angelus." "We got him," Kate said brusquely. "Pryce and Gunn brought him down at a stakeout at a motel over on Washington." "Faith?" Angel asked tightly "The guy owns a compound, we have officers en route now." "That's great," Angel said, rubbing his eyes wearily. "There's more," Kate continued. "You need to come down to the precinct." "It's late," he said, "I need to let Buffy know what happened." "It's about Buffy," Kate explained. "She was the girl he was after. We have both her and her … customer in holding." *** Angel stormed into the police precinct exhausted and worried and pissed off. He was certain she wasn’t on a date, as Kate had implied. With her worry about Faith and her love for him, he knew that she wouldn’t have gone out like that unless she was setting herself up as bait. She, after all, fit the killer’s MO. He tried to shake off his temper, but he knew he wouldn’t until he knew she was safe – and he could yell at her. As he made his way to find Kate, Gunn walked up and blocked his path. “Chief wants to speak with you,” Gunn said, jerking his thumb toward the office. The blinds were already lowered for privacy, which was never a good sign. “I don’t work for him anymore,” Angel said irritably, “I just want to get Buffy and get the fuck out of here.” “There are prostitution charges,” Gunn said quietly, “and Holtz wants to talk to you before you see her.” Angel ran a hand through his hair and made a frustrated sound. “It’s been a long night,” he growled, “so he better make this quick.” “It’s about to get longer.” Gunn slapped him on the shoulder sympathetically. “Good luck, buddy.” Angel didn’t answer, but headed to Holtz’s office, knocked on the door and entered when he heard his ex-boss’ voice snap out. “Come in.” “Holtz,” Angel said, nodding in greeting. Holtz was sitting behind his desk, flipping through a file, looking as he always did, crabby and disagreeable. Angel steeled his resolve. He had no intention of being lectured. His goal was to get Buffy and get out of there. “Angelus.” Holtz greeted in return. “I’m sure you’re anxious to be on your way, so I’ll get straight to the point.” “I’d appreciate it,” Angel said. He sat down in one of the two chairs in front of Holtz’s desk and fought to keep from scowling. There was never any lost love between the two of them and despite Angel being one of his top detectives, Holtz didn’t seem to have any problem whatsoever in firing him. “The reason I asked to meet with you is to discuss a few matters that have been brought to my attention,” Holtz said, folding his hands over his desk and meeting Angel’s gaze head on. “Which matters?” Angel snorted, far past cowering under Holtz’ authoritative stare. “The fact that my girlfriend used to be a prostitute, the fact that I didn’t bust her or that I was involved in the investigation?” “All three,” Holtz growled back. “You skulked around my team and leached information out of them, which you then fed back to civilians who should not have been privy to such information, which caused one of them to put her life in jeopardy. Did I miss anything?” “Yes,” Angel said, his voice terse, “I also helped them map out the best way to track out the killer and gave vital additional information on the latest victim’s habits and haunts.” “Which, no doubt, were invaluable in his capture,” Holtz added. “Exactly,” Angel snapped. “If it hadn’t been for me - What?” “You used the kind of clearheaded, methodical thinking that we needed for this case,” Holtz said carefully. “Lockley informed me just how much research you did on this case and how prized your partnership is to your cases.” “You fired me,” Angel growled. “Now I’m hiring you again,” Holtz said, “but in order to cover our asses you have to go to therapy.” He slid a business card across his desk to Angel and then folded his hands again. “The costs will be covered by the department. You will cooperate until they can assure me your rage issues have been dealt with. You’re back on the payroll as of Monday.” “Thank you,” Angel said, astounded. He stared at the business card for a second and then back at Holtz. “Buffy wasn’t-“ “I know she was acting as bait,” Holtz answered. “The charges have been dropped.” *** “Now,” he barked, pulling her towards the bedroom. “An-gel,” Buffy whined, grabbing onto the doorframe. With a growl, he very gently pried her fingers off the frame. Taking the last few steps, he deposited her on the bed. Buffy stared up at the ceiling, sighing in exasperation as he pulled her jeans off. “You’re supposed to be learning how to be more sensitive to other people’s wishes,” she groused. “Trust me, you’ll like it,” he promised, taking a moment to shed his own clothing. Truth be told, Buffy would have been a lot more irritated if he wasn’t absolutely right. Her frown twisted into a smile as she watched him, now nude, climb onto the bed, stalking up her body. He kissed her and Buffy didn’t even think of rejecting him as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He settled his body against her, nipping along her jaw. “You make me crazy,” she informed him before biting his shoulder playfully. “Trust me,” he said seriously, “it’s entirely mutual.” “Angel,” she sighed, flipping him over onto his back as she straddled him, “it’s just a meeting.” “I know it’s just a meeting,” he replied. “Just a meeting that you’re not going to.” She smacked him on the chest. “Jerk.” He grabbed her hips, grinding them against his own. His heart beat faster watching her bite down on her bottom lip as her eyes fluttered shut. When she moaned deep in her throat, he flipped them both over again, pinning her underneath him. Notching one of her legs around his waist, he slid inside her body. Nearly an hour later, Buffy lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. Angel was collapsed next to her on his stomach, his arm thrown possessively around her waist. “I know you don’t like Lindsey and Spike,” she said quietly, “but I need this job.” He grunted into the pillow. She propped herself up on her elbows, looking down at him. “Don’t you trust me?” He lifted his head, looking at her. “You, I trust implicitly,” he said. “Lindsey and Spike I wouldn’t trust any further than you could throw them.” She frowned tightly. “Angel, I need a job,” she said forcefully. “I really think this investigative reporter thing could be a good fit.” He snorted, burying his head in the pillow again. Sitting completely up in bed, Buffy crossed her arms over her chest. “What, exactly, is that supposed to mean?” she demanded. “You don’t think I’m smart enough be a reporter?” “Buffy,” Angel groaned, “this is not the job for you. There are plenty of other jobs.” “As long as you approve of when and where and how, is that it?” She stood up and marched into the bathroom, slamming the door angrily behind her. Angel kept his face in the pillow and listened to the water running as she showered. Most other times he might have gotten up and gone in to join her, but he knew he wasn’t welcome. Even though he was aware of just how frustrated she was, it never occurred to him that she would actually leave, until she slipped into her new sleek black suit. She turned toward him and scowled at the angry glare he was shooting at her from the bed. “You’re not going,” he growled, crossing his arms across his chest. “Keep telling yourself that,” she blurted. Turning on her heel, she headed for the bedroom door and hurried her steps as she heard him following. “Goddamn it, Buffy!” he shouted. “You can’t take this job!” “It’s either this or hooking,” she glared back. Angel watched in shock as she opened the front door and slammed it behind her. *** Buffy sat nervously on the couch. “So what do you guys think?” Spike shrugged. Lindsey wouldn’t meet her gaze. “I don’t know,” Spike finally told her. “They seemed pretty worried about your arrest record.” “The charges were dropped,” Buffy said tightly. She wasn’t going to cry. She wasn’t. Yes, she understood that this was a very important investigative news program on a major network, but she could do this. She knew she could. But what she couldn’t do was spend the rest of her life being persecuted for the fact that she used to be a prostitute. She wouldn’t do it. She knew she wouldn’t be able to sit through another meeting where the facts of her life were sifted through like she wasn’t even human. A room full of rich, white men hemming and hawing over what she used to do to make ends meet. She may have been a whore, but she was never cheap and she never let anybody use her to that extent. She did have her pride. If they didn’t like what she used to do, they could just find somebody else. She wasn’t ashamed of the life she had led. And she wasn’t about to pretend that she was. Not for the network honchos and not for Angel. Buffy had to blink back tears. She wasn’t going to think about Angel right now. Or about how much she loved him. Or about how much he hurt her by not trusting her. She most definitely wasn’t going to think about the fact that she didn’t even know if they were still together or not. *** Three Months Later *** Buffy saw Faith and Lindsey in their regular booth and couldn’t help but smile. Faith was still officially working. She had too much pride to admit how shaken up she was by the kidnapping. The fact that she was going to have to testify at the psycho’s trial next month wasn’t helping matters. Of course, Lindsey was still officially paying for sex because of his aversion to any type of commitment. They were both full of it. Buffy caught them grocery shopping together a week ago. If it had been chocolate sauce and whipped cream, they might have been able to lie their way out of it. However, if you were buying toilet paper, milk and vegetarian chili with someone it was a relationship. Buffy sighed, taking a seat at the bar rather than intrude on her friends’ intimate time. The bartender smiled and placed a diet soda in front of her. She was busy stirring around the ice cubes with the little plastic swizzle stick when someone took the barstool next to her. Buffy didn’t look up. “You lookin’ for a date?” he asked. He ran his finger down her bare arm. Five months. It had been five months since she last did this. It felt like a lifetime. She put on her most professional smile and slid off her stool. “Sure,” she said. The alley behind the bar was deserted. She led him to a space between a pile of empty cardboard boxes and a stack of palettes. He didn’t talk and neither did she. Her skirt was short and she simply hiked it up. He dropped into a crouch in front of her, pressing her back against the wall as he skimmed her panties down her legs. She watched him put the flimsy scrap of material in the pocket of his jacket. He stood again and she reached out, pulling him closer so she could unbutton his jeans. *** “We need cereal,” Buffy said, frowning as she looked at the seemingly endless row of breakfast options. At this time of night, the store was practically deserted and the tinny drone of the Muzak was the only noise save the squeaky wheel on the shopping cart. “We’re out of milk too,” Angel noted. “I just looked in the fridge,” Buffy said. “There’s a carton in there.” “Yeah, but it’s empty.” Buffy frowned. “You drank all the milk and then put the empty carton back in the fridge?” He looked at her unrepentantly. “Yes,” he said seriously. “Obviously, I didn’t understand that it was a threat to national security.” She rolled her eyes, grabbing a box of Rice Krispies and smacking it against his chest. Dutifully, he put the cereal in the cart. They were silent for several more minutes as they browsed the isles. “Angel...?” Buffy started tentatively. She shot a sidelong glace at him while he pretended to be overly interested in a second kind of cereal. “No.” She growled, stamping her foot. “Why not?” she demanded. “No,” he said firmly. He forced back a smile by biting his inner jaw and tossed a box of in the cart. She fumed angrily behind him. She reached for him and he skittered out of the way. “Dammit, Angel, just give me my panties back!” He turned and eyed her up and down. Putting on a fake scowl, he leaned in, “Quit that job and I’ll give them back.” She groaned in frustration and he laughed. *** Buffy had a horrible day. She woke up late staying up for Angel to come home the night before. When he finally did come home, he turned over in bed and didn’t speak to her. She recognized the signs. When a case was so grisly it made him sick, he either clung to her or refused to touch her. She always preferred the former. In the morning, she overslept and was late to work. She chased leads for half the day that didn’t pan out and Angel called to tell her he would not be home again tonight for dinner. She trudged home, made a sandwich and put in a DVD while she waited for Angel to come home. She woke up at dawn when he came in and scooped her into his arms. She thought he was heading for the bedroom but when he went back out the front door, she blinked awake. “Where’re we goin’?” she murmured, keeping her cheek against his shoulder. “I have to show you something,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “Won’t take long.” “Aren’t you tired?” she asked. She mumbled something against his shoulder before falling asleep again. He smiled down at her as he stepped into the elevator. She was in yoga pants and a tank top, braless and without shoes, yet she completely trusted him to carry her out of the building at dawn. He held her closer to his chest and couldn’t help the grin that covered his face. Buffy woke up twenty minutes later when his car door slammed. She jerked awake and looked around her in confusion. They were in some little suburban neighborhood with tree lined streets and neatly manicured lawns. When he opened her door, her brow was wrinkled in confusion, but she stepped out barefoot and squished her toes in lush green grass. “Where are we?” she asked, but he shook his head and took her hand. “Come on,” he answered. She padded with him to the front door of an adorable little house with white seamless siding that looked brand new and primary blue shutters around all the windows. There were daffodils, iris and tulips blooming in neat little flowerbeds nestling a lovely wrap around porch. Wordlessly, Angel handed her a key. She glanced at him dubiously but he just opened the screen door and waited like a valet. The smile on his face made her heart skip a beat. She unlocked the door and opened it, only to find that the house was completely empty. “Welcome home, love,” he whispered and nodded at her when she met his eyes. “A house?” she shouted in barely contained joy. “A real house that’s ours?” “I’d like it to be ours,” he admitted. “I bought it for you. Your name’s on the deed, but I’d really like to live here with you.” She turned around, grinning madly. “You can live here,” she said. “I’ll need someone to get the things down from the top shelves.” With a mock growl, he reached for her. She yelped, skittering out of the way and taking off down a hall. Angel caught her, pulling her back against his chest as she laughed. He wrapped his arms around her tightly. “There’s more,” he said. From the serious note in his voice, she sobered. “What?” she asked. “I didn’t buy any furniture for the rest of the house because I figured you’d want to pick it out. But I did one room.” She looked up at him quizzically. He released her and held his hand out to her. Placing her hand in his, she allowed him to lead her to the end of the hall. He pushed the door open into what was obviously the master bedroom. He waited as Buffy investigated. The room was bare save an enormous bed. It was beautiful, like something out of a fairytale. It was a king size, wrought iron with a canopy. The bedspread and curtains were done in deep, rich jewel tones. Sitting in the middle of the ruby red chenille bedspread was a silver platter. Buffy ventured closer. On the platter were a tiny jewelry box and a card with her name. She looked back at Angel, but he was leaning against the doorjamb, his expression unreadable. Nervously, she reached out and picked up the box. She was breathing hard as she flipped it open. Tears pricked her eyes as she gazed upon the perfect diamond ring inside. “Do you like it?” Angel asked. Buffy hadn’t heard him move, but she turned into him instinctively, hugging him as tears streamed down her cheeks. “Baby?” he rumbled, wiping at her tears. “Of course, I’ll marry you,” she answering, crying so hard her voice kept hitching. "I didn't mean to upset you," he said, real fear tinging his voice. "I'm n-n-not ups-s-set," she sniffled. "I'm so h-h-happy." *** “How’re you doing?” Buffy asked Faith seriously after showing her engagement ring to her best friend and going on about the house for over an hour. “You know me,” Faith shrugged, “I’m five by five, B.” “You really scared me,” Buffy said, not letting her get away with her dismissive shrug. “I thought I lost you.” “Yeah, well, Linds freaked pretty hard about it too,” Faith admitted. “Guy was pretty fuckin’ creepy.” “I noticed Lindsey is more of a regular these days,” Buffy prodded with a knowing smile on her face. The closest thing to a blush she had ever seen on Faith’s face appeared and Buffy’s jaw dropped open in shock. “You’re falling for him, aren’t you?” “Don’t be stupid,” Faith scowled. “First rule of hookin’ is not to fall for the trick. I’m just doing him more lately, that’s all.” “Or you’re just doing him,” Buffy hinted, grinning broad. “Has he asked you to be his mistress?” Buffy waggled her eyebrows at her friend. “Fuck off.” The End! |