Of all the gin joints... ((RP for _wiccabuffy_))
As he raised the glass up to his lips, Angel realized that in a lot of ways, things had started off for him in pretty much this same way: sitting at a bar, hoisting a beer up for a drink. Way way back, the tankard had been made out of metal, the beer was thick and dark, and he was a young human who was enjoying life being led around by, well,
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He caught himself flicking his eyes back and forth from Buffy back down to his drink, and he knew it wasn't because he didn't want to look at her. No, he did want to get distracted the way he always did around her. She was beautiful, and even though Buffy always was, he never stopped noticing. Angel was also happy to see that living in Italy had done her a few favors, as she'd gotten back some more of the softness to her features and her figure that had been missing the last time they'd met.
Chiding himself for trying to hide from her, Angel swiveled his chair and looked right at her. As he expected, he didn't have much to say for a second or two.
"So...""So," he answered. "You, uh, want something to drink?" He waved the bartender over ( ... )
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"Yeah. Only one drink, though. You know me." She gave him a wry smile and ran a hand through her hair before smiling brightly at the bartender. "Pina Colada, please." It was a mixed drink and fairly safe in the sense that there wasn't much alcohol. Frankly, with a talk like they were going to have, Buffy wanted to be pretty alert.
"You look good."
She raised both her eyebrows at him as the drink was handed to her. Had Angel just given her a compliment?
"I mean it. I remember how tired and drawn you seemed to be the last time. I'm glad you're getting a chance to relax a little."
"Tired and drawn," she drawled as she twirled the straw in her drink a few times. "Yeah. Must have been the evil priest I was fighting to the death or something. Go fig. Or the mystical scythe, or the uvervamps, or possibly the fact that you popped into town unexpectedly to help me save the world again and instead of sticking around you left me with a necklace that killed Spike except that... wait, that's right. He's not dead ( ... )
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Angel chuckled to himself. You would have thought that with the enhanced strength and rapid healing, somehow a Slayer should have a built-in resistance to toxins or the like included in their abilities. But no, Buffy Summers, for being able to overturn a small car one-handed, was still just the petite slip of a girl she looked when it came to drinking.
His lips made a tight line as Buffy reacted to his appraisal of her former appearance. She hadn't taken it the way he'd hoped, and the compliment that preceeded it was pretty much ignored. Hell, he should have known better. But he'd meant the part about her looking better these days. After a moment, Buffy seemed to calm back down.
"I'm sorry. Sorry, really, I think it was just me overreacting to the 'tired and drawn' part."He nodded. "Not at all. And sorry for that, I just meant what I said-- you're looking well ( ... )
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"Sorry... I should get back to my cheap little motel, I guess, and... I don't know what to do, Angel... You fought a dragon and you're still here. Why? Why didn't you walk away when you could have and tried for a normal life?""
Shaking his head, Angel thought about the very idea of a 'normal life' for what would have been a heartbeat or two before looking around. The terrace was deserted, the club's patrons preferring to remain inside. Angel let his face slip briefly into its vampiric form, then back.
"I know it's been a while, Buffy, but I can't really do 'normal'. But even if I could?" He found a low planter with enough of a ledge for him to sit ( ... )
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