From: "Scott W.L. Daravanis" <>

TITLE:  Some other beginning’s end  =  2/?
AUTHOR:  Brianna Devlin  (
RATING:  PG13 for this part, working up to an NC17 (consensual sex, the
usual angst between those stake-crossed lovers Buffy & Angel).
SUMMARY:  All episodes through The Zeppo, with references to Amends &
The Zeppo.  I hate being left in the dark, so here’s my take on what
happened the night after the Scooby Gang minus Xander saved the world,
again.  Oh yeah, and what was with Buffy’s hair?  She looked like she’d
been attacked by a crimping iron.
DISCLAIMER:  All BtVS characters were created by Joss Whedon and his
minions.  I own nothing of significance, so don’t sue me or mine.  You
won’t get a dime.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:  This is my first fanfic.  Ever.  Go easy on me.  I
learned from the master, Bernadette.  Scary, isn’t it?!  Did the curse
Willow translated from Jenny’s files exclude the happy clause?  Who
knows?  In my insane world, anything could happen, and a lot of things
can’t happen.  Frustrated yet?  Imagine being in Angel’s shoes . . . or
helping him out of them . . . .   =)
FEEDBACK:  Please encourage my writer’s ego.  But I warn you, be gentle
and don’t flame me.  I don’t take kindly to flaming.  I might just have
to vamp out and kill you.  I’m serious.  Really.  I’m not the
kidding-vampire type.
DISTRIBUTION:  If you really want to, that’d be just spiffy!  Just let
me know beforehand.
DEDICATION:  To Bernadette, that crazy wench and my bestest bud, for
encouraging me to write something, anything before she dies.  Or at
least before they get fed up with her constant harassment, and she
finally gets laid by Spike or Angelus.  Or, Spike and Angelus.  Who
could ask for anything more, huh Bernadette?  And to Saber for her help
with the rating system.  Gosh, I hate being an amateur!


Angel turned away from the fireplace and knelt in front of the love of
his life.  Placing a hand on each of her thighs, he looked deeply into
her curious eyes, taking in her beauty.  Her perfect lips, the curve of
her cheekbones, her hazel eyes that drank him in with every beat of her
heart.  And her hair, her beautiful blond hair.  "Buffy, I,"  he
stopped, wanting to say so much, but becoming distracted with each
passing second.   He could barely continue he has so much to tell her,
to show her.

"Yes?" Buffy asked, interrupting him.  The strain between them growing
every moment.  Buffy wasn’t sure she could wait any longer.  "What is
it, Angel?"

Angel sighed, unable to resist it any longer.  "Your hair."

Buffy looked at him, flabbergasted.  This was obviously so not what she
wanted to hear from him.  "My hair?"

Angel nodded.  "Your hair.  Buffy, what the hell did you do to it?"  His
gaze followed her as she pushed him away and stood up, crossing the room
to the opposite side.  She had to get away from him.  What was wrong
with her hair, and why the hell was he so upset by it?

She stood with her back to him, majorly pissed.  "What do you mean, my

Angel stood, realizing that he’d obviously pissed her off, which he had
definitely not intended to do.  But as much as he wanted to be honest
with her, he couldn’t look at her without getting past her hair.  He
walked to her, placing a hand on her shoulder.  "Honey, I’m sorry."

Buffy shrugged his hand off, so not wanting him to touch her right now.
Well, okay, yeah, she wanted him to *touch* her, but not while she was
mad, damn it!  She turned around, her eyes staring stakes through him.
"You’re sorry?  You insult my hair without telling me why, then you
apologize?  Who are you?  The Vidal Sassoon of Vampires?"

Unfamiliar with the name, Angel looked at Buffy, completely confused.
"Was that a joke?  Because if it was, I’m not getting it."

"Ugh!"  Buffy walked past him so forcefully, she nearly knocked him
down.  "Never mind!"

"Okay, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to offend you.  It’s just that, with
all of the excitement earlier, I didn’t really notice that you looked,"
he paused for the right word, "different."  He cringed slightly, waiting
for the fireworks to start again.

Buffy looked at him, her lips all pouty.  "I do?"

"Honey, you know I love you, right?"  Buffy nodded.  "And that I would
never hurt you on purpose, right?"  She nodded again, still pouting.
"But as much as I need to talk to you and tell you what I’ve been
thinking, and feeling, these passed few weeks, I can’t look at you
without wondering why you fixed your hair that way.  It just not you,
honey.  In all honesty, it looks like you were attacked by some sort of
a crimping iron.  I know the Hellmouth is bad, honey.  But not even it
is *this* bad."

Buffy suddenly realized what he was talking about, and her eyes widened
instantly.  "My hair.  Oh my, gosh!  I forgot!"  She rushed to a mirror
across the room, pausing briefly again to wonder why he ever had the
damn thing in the first place.  Looking at her reflection, she
immediately knew what he was talking about.  She turned to him, grinning
child-like.  "Sorry.  I was going through some of the stuff in my trunk
today, you know, cleaning it out and all.  I came across a few things,
and since I wasn’t expecting the mouth of hell to explode, I just messed
around with it a bit.  With all of the wiggins tonight, I sort of
forgot."  Suddenly, she found herself upset with him again.  "Why didn’t
you say anything earlier?  You could have stopped me from looking like
*I* came out of  the hellmouth!"

"Like I said, I didn’t think about it earlier.  And don’t worry, honey,"
Angel said, pulling her into a warm embrace.  "You don’t look anything
like those blue-faced demons.  They were really ugly."

"Oh, you mean the smurfettes?  Yeah, major wiggins there."  She leaned
up and gave him a kiss.  "Now, what were you going to tell me.  Or am I
still a major distraction?"

Angel walked her to the sofa again, sitting down next to her.  "I’ll get
over it," he said, smiling.  "Seriously, Buffy.  I know we’ve gone over
this so many times we should just slay each other and be done with it.
But I can’t do this anymore."

"What this?"

"This.  Just this.  Holding hands, kissing, touching occasionally.  Like
I said earlier, one of these times when we get into a major groping
session, I might not be able to stop it there.  And if I can’t, I’m
dreading what might happen if we, or I don’t."

"About what you might do to me?"  Buffy asked, innocently.

"That, and about what will happen afterwards."

"After your happy."

Angel smiled at her candor.  "Yes, after my happy."

"Well, we’ll just curse you again.  We did it before."

"And look what it cost you, Buffy!  Remember, on Christmas, outside the
mansion, what I told you?"

Buffy sighed, growing saddened once more at the thought that they would
never be together again.  Not *that* way, at least.  She nodded,
avoiding her eyes from his searing gaze.   "You said that you couldn’t
do it again.  That you can’t become a killer again."

"What else?" he asked, nearly demanding her to say the words.

Buffy swallowed hard, angry at him for making her do this.  "Angel,
please," she pleaded with him.

"Say it, Buffy."

~~End Part Two~~
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