BtVS Fic: A Normal Life
Title: A Normal Life
Fandom: BtVS
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Buffy, Angel.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1946
Spoilers: What’s My Line Part 1.
Summary: Career Week is making Buffy reflect on all the things she’ll probably never have; what she needs is a few hours off to be a normal girl.
Written For: Challenge 251: Reflect at fan_flashworks. Also for the ‘Footwear’ square on my bingo card.
Disclaimer: I don’t own BTVS, or the characters.
Buffy’s about had it with her life, not that she has much of one, or much of a future compared to all the other kids at school. Career Week is just rubbing that in, as if she wasn’t already aware that gainful employment after she graduates probably isn’t much of an option for her. She already has a job, one that only a handful of people are even aware of, one that stands a good chance of killing her before she finishes high school, so even surviving until graduation isn’t a given. College and a career, even adulthood… those are things that other kids get to experience. What’s the point of her even thinking about the future?
Okay, fine, she’s wallowing in her own little pity party. With her mom away in L.A. buying art, or whatever, she doesn’t have much in the way of distractions once school’s out and her homework’s finished, just patrol and then home to an empty house.
Only tonight the house isn’t as empty as she was expecting. Angel’s there, looking incongruous amid the shameless girliness of her room and on a whim, she tosses her bag through the window to land with a thud, startling him. It’s petty payback for all the times he’s snuck up on her, but it’s fun for a moment to see him wrong-footed, standing there clutching Mr Gordo. Tall, dark, brooding vampires and pink plush pigs don’t exactly go together.
It’s going to take more than that to shake her out of her funk though; for the last few days all she’s done is reflect on all the things she’s never going to have. A normal life, even a normal relationship with her far from normal creature of the night boyfriend, is just one of then. It makes her cranky and she takes her bad mood out on Angel, who really doesn’t deserve it. He came here to make sure she was okay, which is beyond sweet. She loves that he worries about her; it makes her feel warm inside. The protector of Sunnydale has her own protector, her valiant knight in shining… coat. It’s a good coat though, makes him look dashing and heroic, in a brooding sort of way, but now she’s infected him with her gloom, which wasn’t her intention. The least she can do is apologise.
“Oh, God, I'm sorry. Look, I've been Cranky Miss all day. It's not you.”
She barely needs to explain, just mentions school, and he gets it: Career Week. Angel, all seeing, all knowing, all lurking; could she possibly love him more? It’s just… Sometimes she wishes she could go back to the normal life she had before she found out she was the Slayer, before she had the responsibility of saving the world from demons and vampires dumped unceremoniously on her shoulders. It wasn’t as if anyone had ever asked her if she’d like to give up her future in exchange for a few years of mortal peril and an early death. The burden of her destiny weighs her down and she slumps onto the edge of her bed.
Angel joins her. She can feel his weight on the mattress beside her, even feel his presence, his solidity, his arm just brushing hers, but in the mirror opposite them the only reflection is her own, just one more reminder of how different her life is from those of her peers. Angel says it’s okay, but it’s really not. As much as she loves him, she can never entirely escape that little nagging voice at the back of her mind that asks what kind of a relationship she can really have with him long-term; kids are out, for a start. Then she remembers all that’s beside the point, because like all the other ordinary milestones that other people measure their lives by, it’s unlikely she’ll live long enough for getting married and having a family to be an issue.
With all the weirdness that is her life, Angel and the way she feels about him are the only things that make any kind of sense to her. What they have may not be normal by anyone else’s definition of the word, but right now it’s as close to normality as Buffy can hope for. At the very least, with him she can be herself, with all her doubts and insecurities, because she knows he won’t judge her for them.
She doesn’t have to hide anything from him the way she does from her mom; he knows all the darkness she has to shield her mom from, and he’s there to help her deal. She’s not sure she could do any of this without his support. Giles and her friends help a lot, but she can’t allow herself to be weak around them the way she can with Angel. They expect her to be the strong one all the time because… well, Slayer strength and all that. Goes with the job. But Angel matches her in physical strength; he’s the only one who can help her bear the crushing weight of her unasked-for responsibilities. One girl in all the world, the chosen one… The one who wasn’t given a choice.
She’s snapped out of her reflective mood when Angel, poking around her room again, picks up the photo of a much younger Buffy in ice skates, a snapshot from years ago, when her life was simpler and becoming a figure skater like her childhood hero might have been an achievable ambition. It’s embarrassing to think back on those days of hero worship when she’d tried to remake herself in Dorothy Hamill’s image, but she tells Angel about it anyway, because unlike most boys, he won’t laugh at her or mock her; he’s interested in everything about her, and he wants to know as much as she’s willing to share with him.
“When was the last time you put on your skates?”
The question takes Buffy by surprise, it’s the last thing she expected Angel to say. “About a couple of hundred demons ago.” Such is her life, measured not in months and years but in demons slain. It’s disheartening; being the Slayer doesn’t leave much time for hobbies, or for life in general.
“There’s a rink out past Route 17, it’s… closed on Tuesdays.”
How does Angel even know that? And more importantly, is he asking her to go skating with him? That would be the closest they’ve ever gotten to anything resembling a proper date and her heart skips a beat, because… “Tomorrow’s Tuesday.”
Angel’s aware of that, of course he is. Just because he’s undead doesn’t mean he’s completely out of touch with the world of the living. They smile at each other; yep, definitely a date. Just the idea of Angel taking her somewhere fun makes excitement bubble up inside Buffy. She feels almost giddy with it. Bye-bye bad mood. Just the chance at a little bit of normality is enough to banish her gloom for the moment.
OoOoOoO
The following evening it’s no surprise to Buffy that she’s the first to arrive at the rink. There’s no point standing around outside waiting, she doesn’t want to look suspicious lurking all by herself in the empty parking lot, so she… let’s herself in. Slayer strength has its uses in real life.
Turning on some lights and lacing up her skates she steps out onto the ice. Maybe it’s a good thing she’s early; she can warm up and get some practice in before Angel arrives. She’s bound to be a bit rusty, and it would be too embarrassing to fall over in front of him. But she finds her balance pretty quickly; her body remembers, muscle memory or something, and gliding around the ice is freeing. She’s missed it more than she would have thought; maybe she could take it up again, just two or three times a month. Her mom would probably be willing to drive her, might even be happy to see her daughter doing something so normal again. Or maybe she and Angel could make it a regular Tuesday night thing. That could be fun.
Speaking of Angel, Buffy wonders if he’ll be bringing his own skates or if he’ll have to borrow a pair. The thought of Angel ice-skating is kind of weird; vampire on ice… Does he know how to skate, or will he be the one constantly falling over while she tries to teach him? Like Slayers, vampires have fast reflexes, and their sense of balance is well above average, but balancing on a pair of narrow metal blades is a whole different skill set. Well, she’ll find out when he gets here. What’s keeping him? Do vampires use public transport or… maybe he has a car; she’s never thought to ask. It’s a bit of a trek all the way out here if he’s making it on foot.
Confidence growing, Buffy tries something a bit trickier and this time she does fall, sliding across the ice to collide with the barrier. Okay, she definitely needs some practice, but she consoles herself with the knowledge that she’s alone here, there’s nobody around to have witnessed her fall from grace. That’s comforting, right up until a powerful arm wraps around her throat and plucks her from the ice as if she weighs nothing.
Judging by this guy’s strength, once again her attempt at a moment of normality is being wrecked by a gatecrasher of the supernatural variety; he’s choking the life out of her and no matter how hard she tries, she can’t break free. All she wanted was a few hours to be a regular girl, enjoying an evening out with her boyfriend; is that really so much to ask? Struggling to breathe, she feels herself weakening and she can’t help wondering if this is it for her. One Slayer dies, and the next is called: according to Giles, that’s the way it’s been for as long as there’ve been Slayers. But it can’t end like this; it’s too soon, she can’t give up.
Then, like the cavalry showing up in the nick of time, Angel’s there, all vamped up for a fight, pulling her attacker off her. The battle that follows is brief but brutal, and Angel’s on the receiving end of some savage blows. He’s putting up a good fight, but it’s obvious he’s losing. Whoever this guy is, he’s stronger than a vampire, which is a seriously scary thought, but luckily no match for the razor-sharp blade of an ice skate slashed across his throat. She’ll be impressed about that move later, when she has the time to think about it. Slayer one, bad guy zero.
It’s the end of the skate date though; Buffy’s knee is injured, already beginning to swell, Angel’s freaked by the ring her attacker is wearing, and a dead body on the ice is hardly romantic. Skating is a lot more hazardous than Buffy remembers; it’s a sharp reminder, as if she needed one, that her old life is something she can never return to. These days, ‘normal’ is fighting demons and monsters.
‘Normal’ is also loving a vampire with a soul and seeing no difference in him whether he’s wearing his human face or his vampire one. As she kisses him, standing there on the ice, she’s painfully aware of how close she came to dying tonight; the only reason she didn’t is because unlike previous Slayers, she’s not fighting this battle alone. As hard as it often is to know that she’ll never be like her friends, she has Angel, and her life is so much better for that.
The End
Fandom: BtVS
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Buffy, Angel.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1946
Spoilers: What’s My Line Part 1.
Summary: Career Week is making Buffy reflect on all the things she’ll probably never have; what she needs is a few hours off to be a normal girl.
Written For: Challenge 251: Reflect at fan_flashworks. Also for the ‘Footwear’ square on my bingo card.
Disclaimer: I don’t own BTVS, or the characters.
Buffy’s about had it with her life, not that she has much of one, or much of a future compared to all the other kids at school. Career Week is just rubbing that in, as if she wasn’t already aware that gainful employment after she graduates probably isn’t much of an option for her. She already has a job, one that only a handful of people are even aware of, one that stands a good chance of killing her before she finishes high school, so even surviving until graduation isn’t a given. College and a career, even adulthood… those are things that other kids get to experience. What’s the point of her even thinking about the future?
Okay, fine, she’s wallowing in her own little pity party. With her mom away in L.A. buying art, or whatever, she doesn’t have much in the way of distractions once school’s out and her homework’s finished, just patrol and then home to an empty house.
Only tonight the house isn’t as empty as she was expecting. Angel’s there, looking incongruous amid the shameless girliness of her room and on a whim, she tosses her bag through the window to land with a thud, startling him. It’s petty payback for all the times he’s snuck up on her, but it’s fun for a moment to see him wrong-footed, standing there clutching Mr Gordo. Tall, dark, brooding vampires and pink plush pigs don’t exactly go together.
It’s going to take more than that to shake her out of her funk though; for the last few days all she’s done is reflect on all the things she’s never going to have. A normal life, even a normal relationship with her far from normal creature of the night boyfriend, is just one of then. It makes her cranky and she takes her bad mood out on Angel, who really doesn’t deserve it. He came here to make sure she was okay, which is beyond sweet. She loves that he worries about her; it makes her feel warm inside. The protector of Sunnydale has her own protector, her valiant knight in shining… coat. It’s a good coat though, makes him look dashing and heroic, in a brooding sort of way, but now she’s infected him with her gloom, which wasn’t her intention. The least she can do is apologise.
“Oh, God, I'm sorry. Look, I've been Cranky Miss all day. It's not you.”
She barely needs to explain, just mentions school, and he gets it: Career Week. Angel, all seeing, all knowing, all lurking; could she possibly love him more? It’s just… Sometimes she wishes she could go back to the normal life she had before she found out she was the Slayer, before she had the responsibility of saving the world from demons and vampires dumped unceremoniously on her shoulders. It wasn’t as if anyone had ever asked her if she’d like to give up her future in exchange for a few years of mortal peril and an early death. The burden of her destiny weighs her down and she slumps onto the edge of her bed.
Angel joins her. She can feel his weight on the mattress beside her, even feel his presence, his solidity, his arm just brushing hers, but in the mirror opposite them the only reflection is her own, just one more reminder of how different her life is from those of her peers. Angel says it’s okay, but it’s really not. As much as she loves him, she can never entirely escape that little nagging voice at the back of her mind that asks what kind of a relationship she can really have with him long-term; kids are out, for a start. Then she remembers all that’s beside the point, because like all the other ordinary milestones that other people measure their lives by, it’s unlikely she’ll live long enough for getting married and having a family to be an issue.
With all the weirdness that is her life, Angel and the way she feels about him are the only things that make any kind of sense to her. What they have may not be normal by anyone else’s definition of the word, but right now it’s as close to normality as Buffy can hope for. At the very least, with him she can be herself, with all her doubts and insecurities, because she knows he won’t judge her for them.
She doesn’t have to hide anything from him the way she does from her mom; he knows all the darkness she has to shield her mom from, and he’s there to help her deal. She’s not sure she could do any of this without his support. Giles and her friends help a lot, but she can’t allow herself to be weak around them the way she can with Angel. They expect her to be the strong one all the time because… well, Slayer strength and all that. Goes with the job. But Angel matches her in physical strength; he’s the only one who can help her bear the crushing weight of her unasked-for responsibilities. One girl in all the world, the chosen one… The one who wasn’t given a choice.
She’s snapped out of her reflective mood when Angel, poking around her room again, picks up the photo of a much younger Buffy in ice skates, a snapshot from years ago, when her life was simpler and becoming a figure skater like her childhood hero might have been an achievable ambition. It’s embarrassing to think back on those days of hero worship when she’d tried to remake herself in Dorothy Hamill’s image, but she tells Angel about it anyway, because unlike most boys, he won’t laugh at her or mock her; he’s interested in everything about her, and he wants to know as much as she’s willing to share with him.
“When was the last time you put on your skates?”
The question takes Buffy by surprise, it’s the last thing she expected Angel to say. “About a couple of hundred demons ago.” Such is her life, measured not in months and years but in demons slain. It’s disheartening; being the Slayer doesn’t leave much time for hobbies, or for life in general.
“There’s a rink out past Route 17, it’s… closed on Tuesdays.”
How does Angel even know that? And more importantly, is he asking her to go skating with him? That would be the closest they’ve ever gotten to anything resembling a proper date and her heart skips a beat, because… “Tomorrow’s Tuesday.”
Angel’s aware of that, of course he is. Just because he’s undead doesn’t mean he’s completely out of touch with the world of the living. They smile at each other; yep, definitely a date. Just the idea of Angel taking her somewhere fun makes excitement bubble up inside Buffy. She feels almost giddy with it. Bye-bye bad mood. Just the chance at a little bit of normality is enough to banish her gloom for the moment.
OoOoOoO
The following evening it’s no surprise to Buffy that she’s the first to arrive at the rink. There’s no point standing around outside waiting, she doesn’t want to look suspicious lurking all by herself in the empty parking lot, so she… let’s herself in. Slayer strength has its uses in real life.
Turning on some lights and lacing up her skates she steps out onto the ice. Maybe it’s a good thing she’s early; she can warm up and get some practice in before Angel arrives. She’s bound to be a bit rusty, and it would be too embarrassing to fall over in front of him. But she finds her balance pretty quickly; her body remembers, muscle memory or something, and gliding around the ice is freeing. She’s missed it more than she would have thought; maybe she could take it up again, just two or three times a month. Her mom would probably be willing to drive her, might even be happy to see her daughter doing something so normal again. Or maybe she and Angel could make it a regular Tuesday night thing. That could be fun.
Speaking of Angel, Buffy wonders if he’ll be bringing his own skates or if he’ll have to borrow a pair. The thought of Angel ice-skating is kind of weird; vampire on ice… Does he know how to skate, or will he be the one constantly falling over while she tries to teach him? Like Slayers, vampires have fast reflexes, and their sense of balance is well above average, but balancing on a pair of narrow metal blades is a whole different skill set. Well, she’ll find out when he gets here. What’s keeping him? Do vampires use public transport or… maybe he has a car; she’s never thought to ask. It’s a bit of a trek all the way out here if he’s making it on foot.
Confidence growing, Buffy tries something a bit trickier and this time she does fall, sliding across the ice to collide with the barrier. Okay, she definitely needs some practice, but she consoles herself with the knowledge that she’s alone here, there’s nobody around to have witnessed her fall from grace. That’s comforting, right up until a powerful arm wraps around her throat and plucks her from the ice as if she weighs nothing.
Judging by this guy’s strength, once again her attempt at a moment of normality is being wrecked by a gatecrasher of the supernatural variety; he’s choking the life out of her and no matter how hard she tries, she can’t break free. All she wanted was a few hours to be a regular girl, enjoying an evening out with her boyfriend; is that really so much to ask? Struggling to breathe, she feels herself weakening and she can’t help wondering if this is it for her. One Slayer dies, and the next is called: according to Giles, that’s the way it’s been for as long as there’ve been Slayers. But it can’t end like this; it’s too soon, she can’t give up.
Then, like the cavalry showing up in the nick of time, Angel’s there, all vamped up for a fight, pulling her attacker off her. The battle that follows is brief but brutal, and Angel’s on the receiving end of some savage blows. He’s putting up a good fight, but it’s obvious he’s losing. Whoever this guy is, he’s stronger than a vampire, which is a seriously scary thought, but luckily no match for the razor-sharp blade of an ice skate slashed across his throat. She’ll be impressed about that move later, when she has the time to think about it. Slayer one, bad guy zero.
It’s the end of the skate date though; Buffy’s knee is injured, already beginning to swell, Angel’s freaked by the ring her attacker is wearing, and a dead body on the ice is hardly romantic. Skating is a lot more hazardous than Buffy remembers; it’s a sharp reminder, as if she needed one, that her old life is something she can never return to. These days, ‘normal’ is fighting demons and monsters.
‘Normal’ is also loving a vampire with a soul and seeing no difference in him whether he’s wearing his human face or his vampire one. As she kisses him, standing there on the ice, she’s painfully aware of how close she came to dying tonight; the only reason she didn’t is because unlike previous Slayers, she’s not fighting this battle alone. As hard as it often is to know that she’ll never be like her friends, she has Angel, and her life is so much better for that.
The End