Angel (noirangel) wrote in madisonvalley, @ 2015-01-20 09:46:00 |
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Angel decided to make a last attempt at rushing her. He was oddly warm, despite his stripped down state -- energized and pleasantly tired from the exertion of the last two hours or so of intensive workout with Buffy. They’d foregone the weapons this time and were instead going at each other with nothing between them. He was going to be sore in the morning -- which was no small feat, given it typically took the weight of a building to cause him lasting aches. That was good. That was really good. Not a terrible way to start the new year, really. Though Angel would be hard pressed to pinpoint exactly how they'd got to this level tonight, with only an hour or so more to spare before midnight. He wasn't about to complain. He felt better -- already more alive than he’d felt in ages. This impromptu sparring session was only adding to it. He’d felt her give in to it as much as he had and there was nothing more thrilling to his senses -- all of them -- than the pure physicality of the fight, and the security of surrendering to it with someone who not only took what he gave but threw even more at him. It was...beautiful, to him. And if it was possible for anyone to chance upon watching them, they might see a concert of motion that defied physics amidst a mass of flesh and limb. But mostly, he was having fun and was pretty sure she was, too. Without pausing to give either of them a chance to recover from the last rush, he launched himself at her, attempting to keep her off-balance by aiming for her midsection to throw her and pin her down. It was his best chance, but by no means a guarantee for him to 'win' the round. *** Buffy was balancing on the balls of her feet as she watched Angel deciding what his next move was going to be. This was one of the best ways to spend New Year’s Eve that she could think of and it was probably one of the best ones she had ever had. She wasn’t sure what had led to their decision to spar, but she was glad they had. She could feel sweat down her back and knew that tomorrow she would ache, but she was amped up from the adrenaline and the pure joy of just being able to spar like this. Sparring with Angel tonight had become a really work out that she hadn’t realized they both needed. When he decided to rush at her, Buffy let him take her off of her feet and to the floor. However, once they were on the floor, she hooked her legs around him and did her best to use their momentum to roll them over so she could try to pin him. *** Which was pretty much the right move to make. Angel had been fooled by gaining the upper hand, managing to control their drop to the floor. When she pulled that move, his grip slipped and he rolled onto his back to give himself a chance to push back, but was stopped by her strength, failing to find enough purchase to twist back. He grunted with the effort, raising his arms to try to avoid getting pinned while trying to grip her biceps. He wriggled his hips, too, trying to buck her off or at least keep her imbalanced. God, this was fun. Just a pure kind of fun he hadn't experienced in...he had no idea how long. In too long. In far, far too long. *** Buffy tightened her leg muscles in an attempt to keep a grip on him so that he wouldn’t be able to do whatever it was he was trying to do. While she was trying to use her legs and lower body strength to keep him down, she fought to get her arms in a position where she could pin his shoulders to the floor with her elbows. That was easier said than done, though. She was having a good time, though; really having fun. Letting their strengths loose with each other was something that was never going to get boring for her. Being able to do this with someone she trusted as much as she trusted Angel and who also could give back as good as she gave was something that she valued. And it had been far too long since they had been this relaxed and unrestrained with each other. *** Angel struggled against her, his body tiring with the effort of trying to pull himself up. He was dividing his attention too much — a weakness. He should concentrate on either getting her arms and her elbows — God, did she grow extra ones? — or getting her off of him. Not both. He managed to push his way through her arms to snake his reach around her. He couldn’t do much from his position, though, so he tried to pull her down against him, gripping her upper arms and bringing her close, almost in an embrace. Almost, but not exactly. His face was close to hers now and his eyes were bright with their play, even as he drew on his strength as he looked up at her. He could smell Buffy, her scent nearly overwhelming his senses with the extent of their efforts to best each other. It was intoxicating and it would be easy, too easy, to let that alone beat him. *** As much as she enjoyed being held this close to Angel, letting that enjoyment overcome her in this situation would be counterproductive. She wasn’t going to let it be said that he was able to distract her that much when they were sparring -- even if it was true. She went limp in his arms for a moment, gathering her thoughts -- and her strength for what she was about to do. Once she thought she was ready for what she was planning, she gave him a smile. As she smiled at him, she used everything she could pull up within her and then tried to throw herself backwards out of his grasp. *** Angel had no idea what she was trying when he felt her go loose in his arms. He blinked, breathing reflexively in the respite as he tried to read her intentions in her face. He couldn’t. At her sudden pull, he reacted instinctively and immediately pulled back — but he was a hair too late to make much of a difference. She managed to break free of his grasp and he was left off-balance and scrambling to gain some kind of ground. *** Buffy flew a short distance through the air from him before momentum slowed and she landed on her feet. She found her balance and then grinned at Angel as she watched him try to grab her and then stepped back as he got to his feet. She stepped back again to set her stance, not sure what she might need to do in order to meet his next move against her. She blew out a breath, grimacing inwardly when the sweat-soaked bangs didn’t move away from her forehead at all. She wasn’t sure -- exactly -- how long they had been going at this and she wasn’t sure how much longer they were going to keep it up. What she was sure about was that neither one of them had been making it easy on the other to get a leg up in this fight. *** They were a good match for each other — in many more ways than one. Angel was exhausted and his only relief came from the fact that he knew that he had at least worn Buffy out a little. No, their fight hadn't been one-sided, but he knew he was reaching the last of his energy for this kind of struggle. On his feet, he was grateful for the moment to reassess the situation. He'd put most of what he had in trying to get her down and now he was wary about making a mistake. Ah, well. He shook his head, smiling slightly as his gaze met hers. It couldn't last forever. Angel launched himself toward her, fists flying, with little regard for protecting himself and all of his focus on the offensive. *** Buffy immediately raised her arms to block his fists while striking out at him with her feet -- something that she was getting better and better at. Since he wasn’t worried about defending himself, she let him attack her while she kept moving to block his fists. She may not have been able to block every blow, but she was able to block most of them. Finally, deciding that being evasive didn’t have to mean she kept getting hit, she let herself do a somersault backwards. Spinning in place as soon as she was on the ground again, she shot her leg out to kick him in the midsection. *** Angel was letting muscle memory throw him forward, his concentration mostly on what Buffy was doing. But even that focus couldn’t prepare him for the lightning-fast reflexes of the Slayer, and as she somersaulted backwards he braced for a hit toward his head. When naturally, she went for his midsection and instead he was caught, his momentum broken as he stumbled back without time to cushion his fall. “I yield,” he groaned from the floor, but his eyes were full of amusement at his own expense as well as...well, something very like joy at the sheer thrill of their bout. He didn’t care in the slightest that he’d definitely ‘lost’ this round. *** Buffy danced back to watch him and when she saw his eyes, she let herself grin. This had been an amazing bout and when Angel yielded, she felt a thrill go through her. It was never easy for either of them to win when they were like this, but she loved the adrenaline rush and the excitement that each no-holds barred work out caused. “Admit it, you were expecting me to go for your head and face,” she said, leaning against the wall for a moment. *** Angel shook his head as he sat up, his vantage point from the floor underscoring the 'defeat' well enough and he was in no rush — and also was exhausted enough not — to force himself to get up just yet. "I should know better than to try to anticipate your moves," he replied. "I'm usually right with pretty much anyone else, you know." It was true. He 'read' most opponents within a few seconds of any fight, able to tell styles and tendencies as well as weaknesses and strengths with just a small example of what they did. It gave him the advantage at times when he was outmatched by higher training or sheer size and strength. He certainly knew Buffy well enough to know her preferred methods, but she still managed to surprise him. And that was nothing short of impressive. *** “I don’t plan out my moves like most opponents do,” Buffy said honestly, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. “I’ve noticed that in most fights and brawls, people are always thinking about what they’re going to do next -- especially if it’s a spar and not a life or death fight. When I let go like this, I just react and go by instinct.” Sometimes it was a bad thing, but most of the time, it worked out just fine. “Plus, I’ve learned to watch my opponent and see their moves.” *** "It's a death sentence, to think too much in a fight," he answered, thinking that was probably going to surprise her, from him. Angel actually thought very highly of instinct when it came to a fight. He always talked a lot about training and concentration and practice, but that was for honing. He was a demon, and the fight was innate. He loved it more than he probably should, really. She was the Slayer. It was innate for her, too. It was all the better they could go past training and just feel it out, together. "You've just gotta trust your body knows what it's doing sometimes." He shot her a sideways smile when she sat down. He was more relaxed than he'd been in a long time — possibly (probably) since before he'd gone home. The majority of it was due to the pleasant fatigue weighing down his wayward thoughts — he wasn't thinking about Connor or about Wes or about anything, really, except the moment. That was pretty rare for him in normal times, and even more so lately. "Mm, yeah. I'd think you know a lot of my moves by now." *** She leaned her head back against the wall, watching him with a small smile for a moment. “Not all of the time, though,” she pointed out. “When you’re working on training with me, you use different moves a lot of times that aren’t the same as when we go with the adrenaline and throw all of the rules out the window.” When they were training, she watched his moves out of the corner of her eye, but when they went all out like this, she let her instincts guide her. That didn’t mean that she ignored his moves, but she didn’t focus on them as much. *** “True,” he conceded. “When there’s time to think, I usually like to mix things up.” It helped for all of those basic reasons for training, to keep in shape and in practice and all of that. “When we, uh, when we throw all the rules out, you don’t give me much time to consider anything but trying not to ‘die.’” Which was the fun part and his tone said as much. Angel found himself watching Buffy as they talked and he studied her for a long moment. He was unhindered by a racing mind filled with doubts and worries and was able to just drink in the sight of her. He was able to appreciate the sheer power that was wrapped up in a finely tuned and compact body, golden and curved in all the right ways. She was still young, still being shaped by time and practice, but he was almost startled to realize how very much she’d grown in the time they’d both been in the town, their trips home included. His girl was a woman and he’d be foolish to ever think otherwise. *** She grinned at him, feeling both relaxed and pretty proud of herself. She blew out a breath and shook her head to get her strands of hair off of her face. “I learn a lot both ways,” she admitted. “But when we go all out like this, I seem to be able to use the things I’ve learned in our training very naturally. I don’t know how to explain it except to say that part of my mind just steps back and I can view things from a distance.” She’d grown up a lot in the last year -- and god, it had been a year almost. *** “You’re gifted, Buffy,” Angel said, his tone holding that sober seriousness it had when he made speeches about important things. “And I don’t just mean because you’re the Slayer. You stand out even among your own kind because you...you do more. You don’t rely on one thing — on just your instincts or just your training. You don’t even ‘just’ combine them. I can’t really explain it either.” He admired her. A hell of a lot. “And I wouldn’t blame it on my bias for you,” he continued, taking the opportunity now that he’d metaphorically caught his breath to scoot himself closer to her. “You really are...something special.” *** Since he was being serious, she didn’t make a flippant remark about it like she might have in any other circumstance. She gave him a softer smile. He made her feel pretty special under normal circumstances and at times like this, it was even more important. “I try really hard to be different than the other Slayers who have come before me. Plus, I was a real brat before I was called and I never want to be that person again.” *** “Your heart’s always been good, even before you were called,” he replied, his tone softening at the smile she gave him. “Trust that.” He was being serious and he didn’t want to linger on that atmosphere too much. He glanced up at the time and noted with surprise that they were mere minutes away from midnight now. The look he gave her then held both that studied admiration and his sated, animal-like pleasure at simply being near her. He restrained himself from reaching out to her, but spoke in the same quiet tone, “It’s almost time — I’m sorry, I should have noticed. Should have prepared something special, or got us...I don’t know. Noisemakers. Food. Something celebratory…” *** Buffy shook her head, her smile brightening for him. “Angel, no. This --” She gestured to the room at large and then to the space between them. “This has just been perfect! It has meaning to us and that makes it the best way to welcome the new year into being here. I can’t think of anything that I would rather be doing.” *** Angel didn’t question whether she meant that — he could tell that she did, and the thought warmed him even more than their bout had. His face broke into a real smile then and there was a faint light of mischief in his eyes. He rose suddenly, tugging her up with him. He wasn’t going to pass into the new year just sitting on the floor, though, no matter how okay both of them would be with that. “C’mon. I’ll race you to the roof.” *** She laughed, letting him pull her up and getting her feet under her. She liked seeing him acting mischievous like this. Going up to the roof to see whatever the town would do to welcome in the new year seemed like a very good idea. “If I win, you get to make me cider,” she grinned as she started to jog to the stairs. *** “Deal,” he replied, thinking he’d owe her anyway for having them head out into the cold even for the brief time it took to enter 2015. As she shot ahead of him, he shook his head. “And something tells me it’d be pointless for me to think of what I’d want if I win.” She’d beat him, but he didn’t care. Angel followed after her to the rooftop. It seemed like a spontaneous and good idea and all he really wanted was to mark the occasion with her. By the time they made it to the roof, they had one minute remaining. *** When they reached the roof, Buffy turned to him and gave him one of the smiles that always seemed to be reserved for him. She reached for his hand and then moved closer so that she could hug him close. She couldn’t think of a better way to ring in the new year than being up here with him. “I’m glad you’re here with me, Angel.” *** His whole being seemed to lighten and light up when she turned that smile on him. Feeling invigorated and...God, happier than he had in so long — and he was actually noticing it now — he readily held her to him, loving this, loving how perfectly she always fit. Some things between them were still...effortless. This was one of them. He hoped to shield her a little from the biting cold in the air. He’d lost track of the time without the clock and so had no sense of countdown, but it couldn’t be long now. “I love you. I couldn’t imagine anywhere else I’d want to be, Beloved.” *** She didn’t notice the cold as much right now as she probably would later because she was just so honestly happy. She settled against Angel and met his eyes. She knew that he would be able to tell how happy and relaxed she was. She was also extremely thrilled to see how relaxed and happy he was. “I love you, too, Beloved. This is the best new year I’ve ever had.” *** “And to think, we only had to jump into the future in another dimension to get it,” his tone was light, though it carried meaning in it he knew she’d understand. The sheer wonder of their fortune in this place, and his neverending awe and gratitude for having her. He was looking down into her eyes then and on impulse he bent down to catch her lips in his. Somewhere beyond them, there was a distant crackling of fireworks, an impressive lightshow to welcome the new year held over the party at the community center. Angel didn’t notice it, wrapped up in his world, which at the moment consisted of Buffy and only Buffy. *** “A very strange but incredibly wonderful future alternate dimension,” Buffy said with another warm smile for him. She heard the sound of the fireworks going off and lifted her head and stood on her tip toes so that she could kiss him. “Happy New Year, my Beloved… my soul mate.” *** It was New Year tradition to kiss at midnight, he was vaguely aware. It didn’t really matter to him. Superstitions (and his people had a lot, even in his century) or traditions to ensure good fortune in the year ahead...it didn’t matter. What mattered was this and now. What mattered was what they wanted and what they could have with each other. He pulled back from the kiss, eyes dark with satisfaction and something a little less innocent. “Happy New Year,” he murmured to her, tugging her impossibly closer to him. *** She loved when he got that kind of look in his eyes. It was a look that she had seen far too few of in the last few weeks and months. Seeing him be happy and looking at her like that made everything just seem perfectly right in her life. She let him pull her as close to him as he wanted to and snuggled into his hold. “Happy New Year.” *** It was possible Angel could have been happy to just get lost in this forever, in having her close, in feeling light and loved and unburdened. Not thinking about everything that had been plaguing him, about questions of morality and of grief and loss allowed him peace. He was aware of reality, though, and after a few more moments of treasuring the simplicity of holding his love at the turning of another year, he spoke up softly. "You're going to freeze if we stay out here." *** She kissed him again, snuggling against his chest for a few more minutes before nodding. “We should definitely go back inside soon,” she agreed. “Cuddles are best when we’re in a warm place.” She didn’t like moving away from him, but going somewhere warm was a really good idea. *** His eyes fluttered closed briefly as she kissed him again and opened only when she spoke up to agree. Yes — yes, he could have been very content to freeze the moment and bury himself in it. But that was okay. They could make more like it. “Uh-huh,” Angel’s voice was lower than normal, his singular focus on her unchanged as he let his fingers drift down the length of her exposed arm before clasping her hand. “And I think there are some interesting ways we can go about keeping you warm.” *** She nodded, not having the words right now as she let his tone of voice wash over her. He was right. There were all kinds of interesting ways to make sure that she got warmed up again. Being with him -- in any way -- made this the perfect New Year’s in her mind and she had a feeling that it was just getting started, now. “I know that there are,” she finally managed to find her voice, keeping her eyes on his s he could see exactly what she was thinking and feeling. *** Their close proximity over the last few hours and the physical exertion they'd coaxed from each other, testing limits and overwhelming senses, had Angel already in the mood for some of those ways. Seeing in Buffy's eyes that same kind of desire sent a thrill through him. For now, he wasn't going to worry about his suspicions when it came to his curse and the magic that bound -- had bound? -- it. How his trip home had probably changed things. Those were speculations for another time, however irresponsible that made him. "Do you?" He asked archly, bending his head to her but keeping just out of reach for a kiss. *** Buffy wasn’t even worried about the magic because she had absolute faith in what she had been told about his soul being firmly anchored within him no matter what happened now. No her focus was completely and unwaveringly on Angel right at the moment. The way he felt, the way he was looking at her… the way he was speaking. That was what she was paying attention to and she licked her lip, then nodded when he asked her the question, but kept right out of her reach so she couldn’t easily kiss him again. “Oh, yes. I do.” *** That was the way it was supposed to be, that neither of them thought about that. They were supposed to be enjoying this — enjoying the moment and each other. And Angel certainly was. He couldn’t resist her in these circumstances. Not when he wanted precisely what they were dancing around so much, and he could see she did, too. His hand moved to her lower back, pulling her into him as he closed the gap and crushed his lips against hers. They needed to go inside, a small part of the back of his mind was still aware of that. *** When he pulled her into him like that, Buffy wrapped her arms around him. She loved it when they were like this; when they were so close that there wasn’t the slightest space between their two bodies. The cold was temporarily forgotten as he kissed her. While he was kissing her and holding her, there was no room in her thoughts for anything but him and how they were able to make each other feel just through their touches and their proximity. *** Angel’s hold on her was tight and he was pleased to note that hers was the same. There was a fierceness to it, a protective light in his eye that he’d carry on with this whatever else happened. Fortunately, they were alone and all was well. It allowed him to give in and he did so, tugging her urgently toward the door back inside even as he kept them close to each other. *** Alone was good. Alone was very, very good. He didn’t have to tug on her very much as she was so connected to him right now that she moved in step. When they got to the door, she used her foot to push it open, glad that it hadn’t shut all of the way when they had come through it before. Letting go of him to deal with something as unimportant as the door would not even have been an option. *** Belatedly, he was glad that she had the sense to knock the door open without dislodging them from each other’s grasp. He didn’t think he could even begin to fathom doing so at this moment. And then they were on the stairs and if they’d been anything less than two incredibly coordinated, physically adept people at their peak, there likely would have been some kind of accident as they careened down the path from the roof and to the floor that held the training room as well as the entrance to his apartment. He’d be lying if he said the thought to try this kind of thing in training room didn’t have its appeal. But toward his apartment he turned her instead, the return to warmth renewing his energy. He almost slammed her into the wall beside his outer door, distracted by Buffy herself and an impatience that seemed to have manifested somewhere between here and the outside. *** The hit against the wall didn’t even phase her. She was reaching to run her hands up his chest even as she waited -- impatiently -- for him to get his apartment door opened. Patience had never been one of her strongest virtues and it seemed to have flown out the window sometime between the roof and the door. When he finally got his door open and maneuvered them inside, Buffy was reaching to kiss him even as he shut the door and worked to get them to his bedroom or some other horizontal space. *** Angel felt another thrill run through him at the matched eagerness he found in her. He ran his hands along her sides, thinking simultaneously that her clothing was in the way and that he was grateful they’d been sparring so there wasn’t actually much in the way. A horizontal space would probably be good. The rush and the heat was making it difficult to reason out navigation and Angel was reluctant to pull away long enough to figure that part out. He’d backed her against something by this point, and abandoned her lips in favor of her neck, kissing and biting -- gently, with dull teeth and despite the passion of the moment, careful not to break skin. *** Buffy let out several happy sounds as she felt his mouth on her neck and that made her even more impatient to get his tank top off so that she could run her hands and mouth along the skin. She pulled at the material, tugging it up to go over his head so that she could feel his skin against hers. “Bed,” she managed to gasp out between how good what he was doing to her felt and her own desires for what she wanted with him. “Or couch.” The couch would work, too. Somewhere that they weren’t having to fight gravity to be as close as possible to each other. *** The bookcase. He had her backed against his bookcase in the living room. Angel had enough sense to realize that now and redirect her toward his bedroom even while she tugged at his tank top. He obligingly helped her simply shred it off him so he didn’t need to stop touching her just as they reached the door, which burst open behind her with the force they hit it. Impatience had him tugging slightly at Buffy’s shirt this time, but he hadn’t yet removed himself from where his mouth had effectively latched onto her. Her single-word suggestions were another kind of thrill altogether. Another step more had her against the bed, his eyes dark with desire as he looked at her. “Love you,” he said against her skin before pressing another kiss against her, trailing up to her lips. *** Velcro. She might have to invest in some clothing that had velcro instead of buttons and zippers. Of course, the t-shirt that she had been wearing for their workout didn’t have any kind of fasteners and she was trying to figure out how to get it off without having to let go of Angel. She wasn’t a fan of letting go of him right now. Oh good, the bed. They had reached the bed and she smiled, moving to tug at her own shit even as she was telling him how much she loved him, too. “Love you,” she murmured. “So much, Beloved.” *** There was nothing so pure, so uncomplicated as how he felt with her. Intellectually and outside of these moments, Angel was aware -- sometimes painfully so -- of the great many issues that still plagued their relationship. But here, in these times when he allowed himself simply to be with her, he felt...complete. Whole. It was worth everything else, to feel that love between them untarnished by the world. He was his best with her. He knew that without doubt. It was everything else that was messed up. Without another word, he helped her liberate herself from the remaining physical barriers between them, his last thought being definitely a happy new year, then before he lost himself in her. |