Title: Understanding
Summary: Takes place sometime during Helpless (Btvs S3). Buffy comes to an understanding about Angel's feelings for her.

A/N Written for Cady. She wanted Buffy and Angel discussing Faith any time any tone.

 

 

            The fire popped and spread its lazy warmth over the room. Buffy closed her eyes and curled into Angel’s embrace. She paused, unwilling to shatter this moment, but needing to.

 

            “So will you help Faith with the slaying…now that I’m not a slayer anymore?”

 

            “We don’t know that you’re not a slayer anymore, Buffy. You’ve temporarily lost your powers. Giles will find out what’s wrong.”

 

            “Way to avoid the question, Angel. If I don’t get my powers back, will you help Faith with the slaying?”

 

            Angel sighed. He stood up, pulling her with him, released her then tucked his hands in his pockets and begin to pace in front of the fireplace. “If she needs it, yes.”

 

            A pout formed on Buffy’s lips. She knew she was being unreasonable and she didn’t care. “Will you-what else will you help Faith with?” An image of Angel and the dark headed slayer writhing in the cemetery, limbs tangled flashed through her mind. Buffy pushed it away, unable to deal with the mental instability those kind of images would trigger.

 

            Sometimes she forgot how fast, how dangerous Angel was, like a lion drowsing in the sun. He reminded her that he was a predator, grabbing her wrists and jerking her body flush with his. .  Her entire body trembled and her knees shook at the look on Angel’s face. He was as angry as she’d ever seen him. She whimpered and struggled a moment to escape, then she relaxed knowing Angel could no more hurt her than he could will his own heart to beat

 

            “I will be helping Faith slay. That’s it.” He spat the words at her with such force she knew they’d knock her down if he hadn’t been holding her up. She swallowed hard and nodded, point taken. The look of anger drained out of him, or more aptly he locked his anger down, link by link, until he was her Angel again—tender, gentle, beautiful and indescribely sad. He released her just as slowly and methodically as he’d locked the anger down and stepped away from her, turning his back to her.

 

            “You don’t get it, Buffy. Maybe you never will, you own everything else of me. Everything that is good about me belongs to you…and as much as I wish it weren’t true everything in me that’s dark, wretched and bloody also belongs to you.”

 

            Buffy stepped forward, stretched her hand out, fingertips aching to brush his shoulder. His skin was warm from the fire.  “So maybe it’s okay if you help Faith slay.”