A Cure Vignette:
Disclaimer: The usual - I didn't create them, I don't own them, and I get nothing but joy from manipulating their "lives". The joy of creation and of profit belongs to Joss & Co.
Notes: This isn't a whole chapter, only a scene, examining how Buffy is dealing with being a vampire. Confused? Read The Cure first to understand.
Buffy had a shiny new obsession -- mirrors. She'd taken to collecting them, covering the mansion with glimmering glass of every imaginable type. Mirrors of all shapes and sizes -- full-lenth mirrors, wall mirrors in antique gilt frames, tacky little mirrors from the all-night flea markets in LA. She would get right up close to them and stare into the total lack of reflection there, sometimes for hours at a time. If she had still been alive, a psychiatrist might have diagnosed her as being body dysmorphic, or some concerned friend might have accused her of being excessively vain.
As it was, Angel was just worried. All those dysfunctions might apply if there was anything to see. But since there wasn't, he thought it was creepy and morbid, and he felt concern for her. She was having a hard time adjusting, and he felt powerless to help. He didn't get it. What was it she was looking
for?Frankly, he was afraid to ask. He knew it was uncomfortable for a girl like Buffy, once so concerned with the dictates of fashion, not to even be able to see a reflection of herself. But he couldn't help but think she should just let it go, and deal with more pressing issues of being a vampire and a Slayer. Besides, Willow and a reluctant Cordelia had been working for weeks, helping Buffy practice dressing, doing her hair and applying makeup by touch alone.
"I've mostly given up eyeliner." She told him forlornly, "And pretty much everything lip-color related is swiftly on the way out."
He couldn't understand why she bothered at all -- she was beautiful without all that nonsense.
Sometimes, Buffy would pace back and forth before the wall full of full-length mirrors she had insisted he arrange. Back and forth, back and forth. Looking for what? What was it she expected to see there? He thought about shaving for a moment. Willow had once asked him how he shaved, with no reflection. He'd never bothered to tell her it was pretty easy, with an electric shaver. Zip, zip, zip... feel for remaining spots... zip, zip...done. Clean-shaven. He imagined feminine preparation was probably a bit tougher.
One night, a they sat by the fire talking, she asked him to look at her -- to look into her eyes. He did, with no trouble at all. He loved to let their soft greenish-blue wash over him, like easy ripples on a lake...
She held his gaze -- searched his eyes for a long time, with the same look of concentration she got with her mirrors. Looking for something...
"Buffy, what are you doing?" He asked, his curiosity finally getting the better of him.
She looked away. Putting what she felt into words was difficult..."I'm trying to understand the whole vampire reflection thing..."
"Understand it?" He was confused. It just was...there was nothing to understand.
She nodded, and looked into his eyes again. "Aren't the eyes supposed to be the mirror of the soul?"
"I think it's the window." He corrected her.
"What?"
"The window to the soul. The eyes are the window to the soul." He said.
Buffy frowned and shook her head. "That's not what I
mean."Angel was starting to think she was just being difficult... she got testy, sometimes. Buffy sat, examining her hands for a long time, frowning. Then she razed her gaze once again to meet
his."I can't see myself in your eyes." She said finally.
He felt a wave of sadness and compassion wash over him. "I know." he said.
"I mean, if I'm supposed to have a soul, and our souls are connected, shouldn't your eyes reflect me there?"
Angel tried hard not to smile. She was worried that he didn't love her... he understood now that she was not only confused about her new state of being, but whether his feelings for her had changed because of it.
"It doesn't work that way, Buffy." He said finally, "I don't know exactly how it works, but we just can't cast a
reflection."He took her tiny hands in his and brought his face closer to his, intensifying his gaze. Although she couldn't see herself literally in his eyes, his expression was a reflection of her being, and of his feelings for her. She existed... and she was loved, fully and completely, as she was.
"Do you see?" he said.
Buffy nodded, feeling a little light headed from his scrutiny. He leaned over and softly kissed her, then pulled away again, resetting his eyes on her face. He studied her in detail, memorizing her as he so often did. Like the most beautiful work of art imaginable, he wanted to always carry her image with him.
"You have a soul." He assured her, "And I have a soul. And they are one. Always. You can't see yourself there, but I promise, you are all that fills my vision."
Buffy smiled happily. "I love you, Angel." She brushed his cheek with the palm of her hand, returning his look of love.
"I love you, too, Buffy. Eternally."
There was a moment of sweet silence between them before Buffy spoke.
"Then can we get rid of all these stupid mirrors, now?"
The End
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