BtVS songfic: Homecoming
Homecoming
Author: SCWLC
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything.
Summary: This is the sequel to ‘Award of Merit’. Buffy and Angel reunite.
Rating: NC-17
Feedback: scwlc@yahoo.ca
Distribution: If you want it, take it.
Notes: Okay, I’ll admit it. I just wanted to do a songfic with this song. So I did one. It’s ever so mildly inappropriate but I don’t care. This is a Scottish Gaelic song, and it’s frequently sung at funerals. The version I was thinking of when I wrote this story is the Rankin Family’s. From their self-named CD. It came out in ‘89 and is, in my humble opinion, a fantastic rendition of this song. It just starts with one voice, then the harmony starts to come in . . . Hem. Go find it and listen for yourself. NOW! GO!
Notes2: No, I really don’t think I’ll be making a PG rated version of this. Many thanks to Eleni Angel, simply because you’re so encouraging, and to all those now retired B/A authors including Lex, Tamara and Ducks because you guys were the ones who first inspired me to try writing. Also to Chrislee, simply for being the first person from New Brunswick I’ve ever met (even if it is just through e-mail and fanfic).
//O Chì, Chì mi na mórbheanna
(Oh I see, I see the great mountains)
O Chì, Chì mi na córrbheanna
(Oh I see, I see the lofty mountains)
O Chì, Chì mi na coireachan
(Oh I see, I see the corries)
Chì mi na sgoran fo cheò
(I see the peaks under the mist)//
After all her brave words to Dawn, Buffy was left feeling strangely unfulfilled. Sure she no longer felt like hurling herself off a cliff just to make the pain go away and to regain the peace she lost when Willow pulled her from Heaven, but that was hardly saying much at all. She had paid enough attention in Psych to know that she was still borderline suicidal and that all the things she wanted to show Dawn were just pale imitations of the greater beauty she had found in death.
Which was why she was on her way to LA without the knowledge of her sister or her friends. Willow had once told her something about Plato the Greek philosopher. How he’d said that everything on earth was just like a bad reflection of the true essence of the real object. Plato was right. Except for one thing. She had been in Heaven and everything there was like a truer, more real form of stuff on Earth. But one thing had no Heavenly counterpart. Angel was the truest form of the kind of love she associated with him. Heaven had had no comparison. She was on her way to LA to go see the one thing on Earth that was real.
//Chì mi gun dàil an t-nàite 's d'rugadh mi
(I see right away the place of my birth)
Cuirear orm fàilt' 's a' chànain a thuigeas mi
(I will be welcomed in a language that I understand)//
She had finally gotten her driver’s licence and was hurrying down the highway towards the city she lived in for fifteen years. It was home to her as much as Sunnydale. More, in a way, than Sunnydale because Angel was there. Home being where the heart is.
“Oh my God, I’m thinking in cliches,” Buffy said aloud in mild irritation at herself. It was true, but still. . .
Still, Angel would understand about being in a place that went beyond human comprehension. He had been in Hell not Heaven, but he would understand. He would also understand when she told him about her wish to die. It was more than could be said for her friends. There was a lot that could be said about Angel that could not be said for her friends. Not the least of which was that he was the sexiest creature on the face of the Earth. Which was a thought she shouldn’t be thinking.
She should be thinking about how they would talk about killing vampires without Xander’s wisecracks about whatever he could make wordplay from. She could do it without Willow’s shocked looks at her best friend’s bloodthirstiness. She could do it without having to try to keep some measure of Dawn’s innocence intact. Best of all, he would get it.
//Gheibh mi ann aoidh gràdh 'n uair ruigeam
(I will receive hospitality and love when I reach there)
Nach reicinn air thunnaichean òir
(That I will not trade for tons of gold)//
As her car made its way closer and closer to Angel, Buffy felt something in her start to loosen. He was her soulmate, her other half. If anyone would welcome her it would be him. His love had always been unconditional. Sure he’d sometimes given her an emotional dash of cold water but generally she deserved it. Faith had been a perfect example, and he’d even come to apologize to her when she had lacked the courage to work things out with him.
O Chì, Chì mi na mórbheanna
(Oh I see, I see the great mountains)
O Chì, Chì mi na córrbheanna
(Oh I see, I see the lofty mountains)
O Chì, Chì mi na coireachan
(Oh I see, I see the corries)
Chì mi na sgoran fo cheò
(I see the peaks under the mist)
She could see the building rising out of the LA smog and it was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen. It meant she was coming closer to her lover. Every second brought her just a little closer to him, the feelings she got when he was near increasing exponentially, almost as though he was moving toward her.
The only other thing on the highway with her was a large black convertible, clearly breaking the speed limits heading toward her. Her attention was caught by it and she suddenly realised that the feelings of Angelness were emanating from the car. Then she could see the driver, a pale, dark-haired man who came to screeching halt as he flew past her, taking the sensations Angel evoked with him. Buffy slowed her car and pulled onto the shoulder, waiting as the man performed a deeply illegal u-turn and came to a halt behind her on the gravel by the road.
And Angel got out of his car and walked toward her in noon sunlight under a sky unblemished by a single cloud. Buffy felt her eyes go dry as she stared. She didn’t dare blink lest this mirage of one of her most frequent daydreams disappear. “Angel?” she whispered.
He stood in front of her, his chest moving with each breath, his eyes drinking her in. Buffy hesitantly reached a hand up to touch first his face, felt that it was real and solid. Her fingers slid over his lips and felt warm puffs of breath coming from between them. Hesitantly her hand crept down to his throat to touch the pulse that fluttered where before there had only been cool stillness. Her hand dropped to her side as a hint of dizziness set in. His arms went around her, steadying her, and he groaned, “Oh Buffy.”
“How?” she asked, pulling away slightly. Then, unable to keep herself away from him, she took his hand in her own and began to play with his fingers. She listened as he told her about the sudden arrival of the Oracle and the blue-skinned being’s startling declaration that he had earned his shanshu.
“And then I left to see you,” he concluded his narrative.
Buffy’s brow wrinkled slightly in confusion, “What’s a shanshu?” she asked, getting the feeling she had missed something important.
Angel flushed slightly and ducked his head. “S’part of a prophecy,” he muttered.
“What?”
He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, “Wesley found a prophecy a couple years ago. It said that if I survived various battles I would . . . shanshu. Become human.” Then he braced himself for Hurricane Buffy. She simply stared at him, her mind slowly working over what he said.
She, in her turn, took a deep breath and asked, “So why didn’t you tell me?” Her voice was calm and Angel tensed even more. This had to be the calm before the storm.
Still, he had to answer. They couldn’t begin their new relationship with lies hanging over their heads. “I didn’t know when it might happen. The prophecy didn’t exactly have a timeline. The scroll itself wasn’t definite that it would even happen at all. I didn’t want you waiting around for something that, even if it did happen, might not happen in your lifetime.”
She wanted to be angry. She did. She had also done things like that many times with Dawn, hiding something to save her sister from pain in the long term. It hadn’t seemed to work so far, but that hadn’t stopped her. How could she be angry with Angel for only having her best interests at heart? “I guess this is growing up,” she said with a slight smile. “I wanna be mad at you, but I can’t. You were trying to protect me.”
//Chì mi ann coilltean, chì mi ann doireachan
(I see woods there, I see thickets)
Chì mi ann maghan bàna is toraiche
(I see fair, fertile fields there)//
His whole world seemed to open up. “You’re not mad at me?”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” she said with a smile, “But I’m not really mad. Just kinda mad. Like when you’re mad at your parents for grounding you even though you know you deserve it.” It was as though possibilities were opening up that she’d never even considered. There was a pause, and then they were laughing and kissing and wrapped in each other’s arms. Then there was no more laughing, just kissing.
//Chì mi na féidh air làr nan coireachan
(I see the deer on the ground of the corries)
Falaicht' an trusgan de chèo
(Shrouded in a garment of mist)//
They were brought out of their kiss by the honking of a passing car, followed by wolf whistles from a bunch of frat boys. They pulled apart, looking sheepish, then Buffy giggled and Angel joined her in a chuckle. “Maybe we should take this someplace a little more private,” he suggested. She nodded.
“Your place or mine?” She cocked her head at him.
He lead her to her car. “My place is closer. I’ll drive, you can follow me there.”
As Angel turned to go to his car, he found himself slammed against Buffy’s SUV and her in his arms kissing him as though her life depended on it. He responded, his hands sliding down to pull her flush against him. Then he was being propelled towards the convertible again. He turned, staring at her. “A little incentive to hurry,” she said with a grin. Then she gracefully settled behind the wheel. He vaulted into his car and started back toward LA with her cry of “Show-off!” in his ears.
//O Chì, Chì mi na mórbheanna
(Oh I see, I see the great mountains)
O Chì, Chì mi na córrbheanna
(Oh I see, I see the lofty mountains)
O Chì, Chì mi na coireachan
(Oh I see, I see the corries)
Chì mi na sgoran fo cheò
(I see the peaks under the mist)//
The whole drive to the Hyperion, Buffy felt a smile of pure joy on her lips. This feeling of utter contentment and giddy happiness was what she had been missing ever since she came back. This must have been what soldiers felt like on coming home after war, the way she’d felt as she was enveloped by the beauty of Heaven. She could feel tears of happiness coursing down her cheeks, and sniffled slightly as she followed Angel through his city.
Angel was grinning like a fool. She always was and always would be home. And now he was coming home. Soon she would be with him and his friends, a part of his life in LA. The feeling was a serious sort of giddiness. The moment was serious but he was so happy he could barely contain it. It was simply indescribable.
//Beanntaichean àrda is àillidh leacainnean
(High mountains with lovely slopes)
Sluagh ann an còmhnuidh is còire cleachdainnean
(Folk abiding there who are customarily kind)//
They drove up to the hotel, and Buffy found herself staring up at a massive building. Angel was halfway up the steps before he realised that she was still sitting in her car gazing at the Gothic exterior of the place. She was startled out of her reverie by the sound of him opening the car door. “You okay?” he asked.
Buffy glanced up at Angel to see those dark eyes looking at her with love and a hint of concern. She smiled. “I’m fine,” she said, then allowed him to help her out of the car. Together they made their way up the front steps and into the building where they walked in on an argument.
“I’m telling you, something is wrong with him! Why would he go off like that?” Cordelia was shouting at the others.
A young woman with brown hair, unfamiliar to Buffy, spoke. “I think the real question is still how he managed to run out into the sun like that.”
“I’m human, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with me,” Angel grumped as he tried to pull Buffy past his friends and up to his room.
The green demon spoke next, “Okay, that explains a lot, including how you managed that immunity to the sun trick. But why are you with blondie there?”
Silence settled in the room as the black man, the brown haired woman, and the demon all turned to look at Angel expectantly. Cordelia and Wesley were both staring openly at the demon with the appearance of utter bafflement. “Why wouldn’t I be with Buffy?” Angel asked.
The black man responded, “Well, what ‘bout that kye-rumption thing Fred’s always talkin’ ‘bout?” he indicated the woman.
“Kye-rumption thing?” Buffy inquired.
The woman, (Fred?) nodded eagerly, “Yeah, when two warriors see each other and recognize their connected fate across the battlefield,” she said.
Before Buffy could respond to the sheer oddness of that statement, Wesley beat her to it. “Since none of you three has ever actually seen Angel around Buffy I’ll let the idiocy of the notion that Angel would ever choose Cordelia over Buffy slide.”
“Sweetie. Have you been watching our two warriors here?” the demon asked.
Cordelia snorted, “Of course we have. That’s how we know they’re made for each other.” She rolled her eyes for the added emphasis as she continued, “I’ve been watching the Buffy and Angel show for around six years now. Trust me. If soulmates exist these two are the proof.”
“Besides, Cordelia and Angel would miserable together. She’s not his type.” Buffy said cheerfully. She was finally willing to believe what Willow had said to her before Halloween years before. She found herself pulled against Angel as he hugged her to him.
//'S aotrom mo cheum a' leum g'am faicinn
(Light is my step when I go bounding to meet them)
Is fanaidh mi tacan le deòin
(And I will remain there willingly)//
“But . . . but . . . Kye-rumption. And moira,” Fred whimpered. Then the five degenerated into an argument over whether or not Cordelia and Angel were soulmates. As Buffy and Angel gleefully sprinted up the stairs to escape the interrogation in the lobby Cordelia loudly denounced the notion of herself sleeping with a dead thing. Even a very hot dead thing.
Buoyed by the feeling of being with Buffy, Angel felt as though he were practically flying. His lover (and wasn’t that the most delightful thing to think?) his lover was right behind him, and he could smell the beginnings of her arousal. That only spurred him to greater speed as he pulled her up the last of the stairs and into his room. Then the door was locked behind them and they were alone.
She looked at him, her eyes glowing with love, “You know we've got issues we have to work through,” she said.
“I know. When did you become so mature?” he asked wonderingly. Before he had been able to convince himself she was simply too young to know better when he had made decisions for her. If she kept this up he wasn’t going to have a leg to stand on.
Deliberately keeping the tone light, she replied, “Are you trying to tell me I’m getting old and stuff?” Her face told him a different story, and Angel could read the pain he had caused her. It had forced her into this growth of wisdom and maturity, made her into an even more amazing person than she was when he first met her, but it was a trial by fire.
“I promise, never again love. I won’t make decisions for you again.” He could feel the moment slipping away, and took a page from her book to bring it back. Plenty of time later to discuss the horrors of their past. Now was for them. “And I think you are more beautiful than ever.”
He would have gone on but Buffy placed a finger on his lips, “Don’t,” she whispered, an echo of so many aching years past, “Just kiss me.” He did as she bade.
//O Chì, Chì mi na mórbheanna
(Oh I see, I see the great mountains)
O Chì, Chì mi na córrbheanna
(Oh I see, I see the lofty mountains)//
Their lips met gently, and he held her close as they kissed. Passion rising with each kiss they began to make their way across the room. Buffy’s jacket fell to the floor, followed by Angel’s shirt, and then they reached the bed. Angel sat and pulled Buffy onto his lap as he let his mouth worship her, nibbling, licking and kissing every inch of skin exposed by the sleeveless t-shirt she wore.
She sighed, pressing against him, letting her hands roam over his back, down, and around to gently pinch his nipples. He felt her shift, and then she resettled onto his lap, her hips slowly grinding against the erection he had almost not noticed. The pressure reminded him of its presence, and although he continued to worship every bit of skin exposed by her clothing, his mouth became more enthusiastic and he groaned encouragingly.
//O Chì, Chì mi na coireachan
(Oh I see, I see the corries)
Chì mi na sgoran fo cheò
(I see the peaks under the mist)//
She had been simply letting her hands play along his body, but when he began to practically purr, Buffy brought her teeth into play as well. She nipped her way down his neck, causing Angel to stiffen under her, and in the process sent fresh sensations that winged their way down to his cock.
Angel’s hands took on a mind of their own, and he wasn’t quite certain how he got both her shirt and bra off as quickly as he did. Then he had her delectable breasts heaving in front of him with each of her breaths, and he started to lean forward to give them proper attention. So far he had been fairly effective at ignoring the blood swollen member pressing against his zipper, but Buffy brought it to his attention by simultaneously planting her teeth firmly in his neck, and pressing her hand into the very large lump in his lap.
That tore it.
Angel was abruptly desperate as so many years of near utter celibacy combined with having the sexiest woman he ever met writhing in his lap caused his brain to completely melt down. He yanked her off his lap, and spun around dropping her onto the bed. He firmly straddled her, and snarled in fury when neither of their pants came off as quickly as he wanted.
Her hand found his open fly and began to rub him through the boxers, and Angel’s eyes closed as he frantically ground himself against her strong fingers. His own hand found its way into her pants and was eagerly rubbing the suddenly sopping wet arousal there. They lay there like that for several minutes until Angel realised he had been distracted from his original purpose, which was to pound her into the mattress until neither of them could move. This unfortunately necessitated him taking her delightful hands off his manhood. Then he felt her pussy tighten around his invading fingers and unceremoniously yanked her hands off of him and, even as she gave a protesting whine, pinned them over her head slamming himself into her oh so deliriously wet heat.
All vestiges of sanity left both slayer and ex-vampire as they mated. Both frantically slamming together with four years of unsated need. Their cries attracted notice from those arguing downstairs who came up to find out what the fuss was. After a moment of struggle with the door, the five burst into Angel’s room expecting to see the denizens of Hell, and instead coming across Angel and Buffy, the two so involved in each other, Gunn’s war cry on entering didn’t even register.
Angel’s strokes were speeding up and he felt Buffy’s ardent response increase accordingly. Then all he was aware of was the explosion of ecstasy in both of them and that he could feel the love she felt for him.
Buffy could only match Angel’s desperate thrusts. She had deliberately goaded him into this, and it was exactly what she wanted. Every downstroke was skillfully hitting her clit, even in his haze of lust. She spared a moment to realise she was still thinking in cliches and then it didn’t matter because she was coming in waves.
Cordelia, Wesley and Gunn had pretty much turned and started to scamper away the moment they realised what they had walked in on. Fred and Lorne however were both paralysed. Fred shook it off and quickly hurried after the others, but Lorne remained there, stunned by how very wrong his reading of Angel’s aura had been. Whereas before he had seen a nicely matching pattern with him and Cordelia, now he was seeing two auras that were essentially one. And they were pulsing, creating such a blinding psychic light that the native Pylean couldn’t tear his attention away.
As the two came down from their high, still oblivious to the presence of a green demon in their room, Lorne noticed a small addition to the still brilliant glow on the bed. He shook himself out wondering how he could have been so very wrong in his reading. Then he smiled as he left. It seemed they were going to be having another little bundle of joy. Hopefully this one would be a tad less dramatic then his or her half brother.
The End
Read how Angel got there
Read how Buffy got there
Back to archive page