She was gorgeous. That was the first thing I noticed about her, of course, but I was fifteen at the time, so what do you want? She was, in an instant, the most perfect creature I had ever laid eyes on.
It was only later when I got to know her, when I found her flaws, when I knew every bad and terrible thing she had ever done, and I still loved her, that I knew she was the one.
Beauty queen of only eighteen
She had some trouble with herself
We all chipped in, of course. I mean, we kind of had to. Well, okay, not really. We didn't. I mean, I did. I'm not sure what I mean. It was the right thing to do, is what I mean, and well, after Jesse… we didn't really feel we had a choice. I mean, at first they tried to keep us out of it, but… we were just always there.
So I sat there, researching, sometimes fighting, day after day, watching her. She fell for Angel. She went out with Scott Hope. She fell for Angel again.
He was always there to help her
She always belonged to someone else
Not that I was never with anyone, I was. First it was Cordelia. And then… well, that's pretty much it, except for the thing with Willow. And the one with Faith. So I had basically had a shot at all the Scooby women except for her. And she was going to spend the summer moping over Angel, so I did what I had to.
I left.
And of course, when I got back a couple months later, she was the first person I saw.
I drove for miles and miles
And wound up at your door
In my dreams… she was never… she was rarely… a lot of the time it wasn't about sex. It's about love. In the best ones, I'm sitting at a kitchen table… I don't know where… but I'm sitting there, and she comes down the stairs, gives me a kiss on the cheek, and sits down to have some breakfast. Those make me happy.
I've had you so many times but somehow
I want more
Anyway, things happened. Namely one jackass named Parker Abrams, and now Buff is feeling like all men are scum (no offense to me, she says. I thank her for that). And I can't say I really disagree with her. I've done my fair share of scummy things in my life (the aforementioned thing with Willow).
But it was after Parker that things started changing. She started wanting me to hang around more. Looking me up when she got out of class. Bringing me along on patrol. She lets me look after her. Tend her wounds. She smiles at my lame jokes.
I don't mind spending everyday
Out on your corner in the pouring rain
Look for the girl with the broken smile
I take care of her now. She spends the night sometimes. Nothing sexual, just… she said she feels safe with me. I don't know whether she means that I'm not threatening, or she knows I won't hurt her. I hope she knows I won't hurt her.
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile
And she will be loved
And she will be loved
So these days, when I don't go out patrolling with her, I lie in bed, in the basement, waiting for her. Most night's she shows, but when she doesn't, she always calls. I love it when she comes over. Taking care of Buffy, tending her wounds, telling her I love her by showing her I care is the most rewarding thing I do these days. It's a hell of a lot better than delivering pizza, anyway.
She shows up wet, or dirty, or with torn clothes, or with grass in her hair and dust in her eyes. And sometimes she asks me why I put up with her. I smile, kiss her on the forehead, and continue my work. She complains, in her best high-pitched, innocent li'l ol' me voice, that she always looks horrid when I see her. I just smile and tell her she doesn't. I think she's starting to believe me.
Tap on my window, knock on my door
I want to make you feel beautiful
We were lying in bed one night, as she rested her head on my shoulder, and I asked her once why she always comes over. I wasn't complaining, it was the farthest thing from my mind. She turned in bed, drew lines on the back of my hand with her fingernail for a moment, and said that with me, she could be herself. And that she trusted me. Trusted me with what, I asked. She told me she trusted me with, well, her. Then she kissed me, once, gently, on the lips, then rolled over and went to sleep.
I don't ask her why anymore.
I know I tend to get so insecure
It doesn't matter anymore.
I think we're together now. I'm not really positive, but we show all the signs of it. We hold hands. We kiss. I woke up once with my hand on her boob, and she took my hand in hers, kissed it, and went back to sleep. She hasn't defined anything, yet, and I'm happy to go at whatever pace she wants.
We argue sometimes, about the way things should go… Slayerly things mostly. But where before we would have completely opposite ways of looking at a situation and we would storm off angry, we talk. We actually, you know, communicate. This is a major thing that we (and I really mean the whole group) have been bad at. But more often than not, we can find a way to look at a problem that we all can accept.
It's not always rainbows and butterflies
It's compromise that moves us along
But whatever the argument, whatever the problem, she knows she can always seek me out. She can always come to me for anything, or for no reason at all. I don't have the power to turn her down.
My heart is full and my door's always open
You come anytime you want
So now we spend a lot of time together. I think Willow's a little jealous, to tell you the truth, but I'm not sure if it's of me or of her. Or maybe it's of both of us. Either way, Buffy and I are getting on great. The other day, I forgot she had a meeting with one of her professors, and sat outside Stephenson Hall for half an hour in a monsoon. I would do anything for that girl.
I don't mind spending everyday
Out on your corner in the pouring rain
Look for the girl with the broken smile
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile
And she will be loved
And she will be loved
And she will be loved
And she will be loved
Whenever she gets sad, or scared (be it from life, or from demons, or from destiny), Buffy usually goes to the mall. It's like a comfort blanket. You know, except she has a comfort blanket that's… well, actually a blanket. But she goes there, even if she doesn't buy anything. She gets scared, sometimes. Life is a scary thing. Living the way we do doesn't make it any easier.
She brought her comfort blanket over here the other day, and left it. She really does trust me.
I know where you hide
Alone in your car
Know all of the things that make you who you are
I know that goodbye means nothing at all
Comes back and begs me to catch her every time she falls
She doesn't knock on the door anymore. I hear her coming down the stairs to the basement, and she lets herself it. I gave her a key, she took it, looked at it, and put it on her keychain. She smiled, kissed me, and then lay down to sleep. She is so beautiful in her sleep. I just want to protect her as much as I can.
Tap on my window knock on my door
I want to make you feel beautiful
It's another rainy day here in Sunnydale. Willow came over, she walked through the storm to visit. Something was on her mind, she had something she wanted to tell me. I offered her a dry shirt and tossed her wet one in the dryer (one of my few luxuries in the basement. Dryer sheets make the place smell not quite so mildew-y). I was wondering if Willow was going to tell me about her 'maybe more than friend' Tara. I knew about her, of course, but Willow would tell me when she was ready. My best friend, after she was semi-dry, looked up at me, pain in her eyes and then looked into mine, and destroyed my world.
I don't mind spending everyday
Out on your corner in the pouring rain
Look for the girl with the broken smile
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile
And she will be loved
And she will be loved
And she will be loved
And she will be loved
Please don't try so hard to say goodbye
"Angel's back."