Characters: Buffy, Angel.
Summary: All it takes is a kiss and a cross to mark Angel as Buffy’s forever.
Written For: Challenge 333: Amnesty at fan_flashworks, using Challenge 277: Cross.
Disclaimer: I don’t own BtVS, or the characters.
A/N: Quadruple drabble.
So Angel’s a vampire; it’s a lot for Buffy to get her head around. Technically, that little factoid makes him the enemy, but now she knows he has a soul, that he regrets all the evil he ever did in his undead… life, it makes a difference. He’s not like other vampires, not anymore, and despite everything that’s happened she still really likes him. Plus, he wasn’t the vamp who bit her mom, he tried to save her, so that’s in his favour too.
But at the same time, she knows Angel’s right. This, whatever it is between them, can’t ever really be anything, no matter how much they both might wish otherwise. He’s a vampire, she’s the Slayer, and he’s older than her by a couple of centuries and change. That’s a pretty big age gap.
They can’t be together, they both know that, but when it comes right down to it, neither one can walk away, drawing closer instead, sharing what might well be their very last kiss, and God, Buffy doesn’t want to let him go. No other boy has ever made her feel this way. She could drown in him, never come up for air again, and she wouldn’t care, just so long as she could feel his lips on hers, forever.
Buffy presses as close to him as she can, dimly aware of a growing heat between them, flowing through her. The kiss goes on for a long time, but for Buffy it can never be long enough.
When they finally separate, Angel looks pained. Buffy gets it, walking away is going to hurt them both, but this is the way it has to be, and they both just have to accept that, move on with their lives.
“See you around?” Even if they can’t be together, Buffy has no doubt that Angel will still be keeping an eye on her. They’re allies at the very least, fighting the same fight. It makes her feel safe, knowing he’s got her back.
She doesn’t look back as she walks away, it’s easier not to, so she never sees the real reason for Angel’s pain. The cross she’s wearing, the very one Angel gave her the first time they met, pressed into his bare skin as they kissed, burning him as if it was red-hot.
Angel doesn’t care. Buffy has branded him; now he’ll always be hers.