Welcome to Denial of Destiny!

The Vision           

(Or Ruminations over a Cold Beer in an LA bar)

by Mark Jones

Another lazy evening in LA. Angel sat at a table at the "Houndstooth Pub", and took a sip of his beer. It had been quite a rough time lately. Doyle’s death, the whole Buffy incident, and just a rash of issues that came up in his business had taken a toll, even on a vampire’s stamina. A beer was nice, even though he really didn’t taste it, or feel the effects of it, he enjoyed the opportunity to just relax for a minute and let his mind wander.

Something had been bothering Angel, but he had yet to be able to put his finger on it. He knew that he was troubled inside over Buffy. The whole turning human, loving her as a mortal, then turning back had taken a measure of his momentary happiness away from him. Angel realized he was sad. Almost depressed, if it’s possible for him to be more depressed.

What was it? There was something about this woman that moved him, affected him to his core. It was hard, being apart from her. And now, she didn’t know what had happened between them. But Angel did. He remembered. Vividly. And it saddened him to an almost unbearable end that he lost that, or gave it up. He knew his reasons… the same reasons that he left Sunnydale and came to LA. For her…

It all began a few days ago, as Wesley and Cordelia were arguing. In a rush, he said "Cordelia! Doyle!" prompting a long, uncomfortable silence between the three. Angel had excused himself and was sulking in his office when Cordelia came in, and forced him to talk. He admitted that he missed Doyle.

"It’s all right to feel." She said. So he felt… and inevitably, as most of his ‘intimate’ conversations went, the subject of Buffy Summers came up. With the ever-sarcastic Cordy, Angel was reluctant to begin any conversation. But as Cordelia showed a more sensitive side, Angel opened up and told his true feelings about her. They ended up crying on each other’s shoulder. Him about Buffy, her about Doyle.

A sad country song came on as Angel took another drink. Totally ignoring the pair of girls sitting at the next table looking at him suggestively, and at Cordelia who sat across from him, Angel closed his eyes and let his mind wander freely again.

Angel could see in his mind’s eye Buffy standing before him, when he was alive, in that moment, of "not enough time", when her tears were matched in some small regard by his. She could move him and draw his emotions out of him like no other has ever. Or ever will.

One of the sweetest dreams he ever had, when he did dream, was of he and Buffy. They stood arm in arm looking over the ocean. Then, one glorious day, it really happened. He was alive, and in the sun, kissing her on the boardwalk. Two hundred years of darkness traded for a few moments in the light. Angel pressed his eyes shut as he thought he would do it again in a minute…

Remember? It was all about forgetting.

"So we’ll keep to the plan. We’ll keep our distance, and, over time, we’ll just…"

"Forget." Angel said, finishing her sentence. The look in her eyes was of hurt. And he reflected that same feeling back to her, from his tarnished soul to her beautiful soul.

"I love you." Angel whispered to her in a tearful voice. "I try not to, but I can’t stop."

"Me, too. I can’t either…" she whispered back.

…on top of the hill overlooking the city. He was ready to end it all, to stop the haunting visions of his evil self. The First would not let up. The torture was unbearable, but mostly was the time he was granted time in his dreams with Buffy. They were unbearable. He wanted her so badly… and still does to this day.

You’ll find better love. He heard through an old contact in Sunnydale about Riley. How she has someone now. How she’s finding a normal life. With a normal man… one that could provide her a future. A family. Angel opened his eyes and stared into his beer, his now tear-rimmed eyes reflecting the weight and sadness of two hundred and forty five years. With Riley, she wouldn’t go to sleep with a man and wake up with a monster.

"I have to make sure you won’t get hurt again." He told her when he turned human. He thought about when he turned evil before. Mental spasms wracked his stomach, simulating what it would do if his stomach worked like a normal persons. He searched for new ways and delighted in the mental torture of Buffy, slowly trying to drive her to the brink like he did with Druscilla. And in the end, she had saved him, and, standing in front of the Stone Demon, had killed him. In the centuries of torture that followed, he asked ‘why’ at first, then simply asked ‘please’ as he wanted just to see her again. Angel closed his eyes again as the song came to a chill-bump inspiring crescendo, feeling the words down to his soul.

Angel opened his eyes to see… her. She stood there at the entrance to the bar. Her soft, silky blonde hair. Her beautiful eyes that spoke like no other to him. That perfect form, athletic and graceful. Angel rose from his seat as Cordelia asked that was wrong. Angel didn’t hear her.

Angel blinked, and suddenly it wasn’t Buffy. It was another blonde girl, who looked a lot like Buffy. Something was wrong with him, indeed. The song wasn’t about him saying "Please Remember Me" to her. It was Buffy saying "Please Remember Me" to him.

To no one in particular, Angel said "I’ve got to do something about this."

-TO BE CONTINUED-

The Vision part 2