“What…what was that?” Tara asked, moving to help Buffy up off the floor.
Giles leaned back against the table, weary, and wiped his brow with a crisp handkerchief he retrieved from his back pocket. Tara helped the Slayer over to him and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, supporting her. “The spell called for the Key. The souls of the child and the Key would call to the souls of Buffy and Angel, being blood descendents, and harness them from the ether.” Accusing eyes turned to Wesley. “Why wasn’t Dawn involved?”
“The Key…of course…you didn’t specify. It says the child is the key. We assumed that meant…oh how terribly stupid,” Wesley stuttered, ashamed.
“Anyone could have made the same mistake,” Willow offered, helpfully. “The important part is that it worked…Giles showed up in the nick of time and saved the day.”
“Did he?” Gunn asked. “Seems to me we got us a vampire and a Slayer on the floor, that’s all.”
“Only one way to find out,” Xander agreed, and crossed to the table where Buffy was now leaning next to Giles. “Hey Buff…” he murmured, peering at her. “How we doing in there?”
At the moment Buffy was trying to catch her breath as she sat back, held in the arms of her Watcher. Confused eyes looked up and searched those of her friend, then glanced around at the others. “What?” she whispered.
“How’s the soul, Buffy?” Xander tried again.
“Xander?” she gasped softly. “Where am I?”
“You’re in the shop, Buffy,” Giles told her gently, “Do you remember?”
Buffy looked up at him as if she just now realized she was ensconced in his arms. “Giles? Am I dreaming? You’re not really here.”
He laughed softly. “I’m really here, I assure you. As are you. And this isn’t a dream, though I’d imagine it was quite like a nightmare for some time. How are you feeling?”
Buffy thought about it for a moment before a smile began to creep across her face. “Fine. Good…better than good. Like…” Like a human being. Like me…Buffy Summers…American girl, Chosen One…the real me, she realized. Her smile grew. Gone was the feeling of despair…the morbidness that had once consumed her. No more shame…no more self-loathing…no more fear or hate.
“Like you’ve got a soul?” Xander prodded.
She glanced up at him, her eyes beginning to shine. “Like I’m me…” she reached out to hug Xander. “Like I’m me, Xander.”
He chuckled. “Welcome back…missed ya.”
“Thanks…so much,” she whispered.
Xander grinned and hugged his friend. “Anytime. Though…let’s try to keep you from losing your soul again, whaddya say?”
“It’s a plan.” Buffy’s eyes moved around the room, grinning happily before her eyes lit on Angel who had been helped to his feet by Gunn and now stood between he and Cordelia, still holding his son. Their eyes met. “Angel?” she asked gently.
He was staring at Connor, nestled in Cordelia’s arms, amazed. He held out one of his fingers and the baby reached up and plucked it from the air, grabbing it with all five of his own tiny digits and pulling it insistently towards his mouth. The moment his son began to suck on his finger, Angel let out a small, wondrous laugh. Cordy grinned as Fred and Wesley moved to their small group, smiles all around.
“That’s much better,” Dawn said softly, leaning on Tara for support.
“Dawnie…” Buffy whispered, her eyes lighting on her sister. She opened her arms and the youngest Summers smiled gratefully, rushing to Buffy and engulfing her in a hug.
“We did it,” Dawn whispered as happy tears sprang to her eyes.
“We did,” Buffy agreed. “Thanks to you.”
“Guess the Key thing didn’t go away…”
“Guess not.”
“Think we can just keep that a secret? I don’t really want any more Gods after me.”
Buffy laughed and pulled back, crossing her heart with a shaky hand. “It doesn’t leave this room,” she promised.
Willow smiled. “You’re okay?” she asked her best friend, her brown eyes searching Buffy’s.
Buffy nodded. “I’m fine. I feel good. A little tired…but you know. Just another day on the hellmouth.”
“Wow…they took your soul and you got it back, all in less than two days,” Fred murmured.
“If only they all happened that fast,” Cordelia added wryly, eyeing Angel.
“What was it like?” Willow asked Buffy. “I mean…they simulated perfect happiness…” she eyes darted nervously from her best friend to Angel.
Buffy’s eyes ticked to Angel’s and held them. “I—I don’t remember, actually,” Buffy told her quickly. “Do you…Angel?”
A bemused smile played on his lips, ever so briefly, before he cleared his throat and turned back to Connor. “Uh…no. Not a thing.”
Their eyes met and locked and for a moment it was as if time had stopped…and all that existed were the two of them. He could feel her again…the bond between them blowing wide open the moment their souls were fully returned. The connection coursed through their veins, soared on their blood, and he knew, just from looking into her moss-green eyes that she too could feel it. They shared a small, knowing look before breaking contact, but their nerves still crackled.
“So…you’ve all just been resouled and the world is as it should be…what are you going to do now?” Xander broke in in his tv-announcer voice.
“Disneyland?” Dawn asked, turning hopeful eyes to her sister.
“I was thinking more along the lines of dealing with some invisible minions and their queen…but maybe when we’re done with that,” Buffy told her, and pushed herself off the table. Shaky, but standing on her own two feet, she faced the group. “I’d love to say it’s time to party…but we still have other-worldly things to defeat.”
“Right,” Angel agreed, refusing to give up his son to the waiting arms of Cordelia. He turned to Buffy. “We still have things to deal with here,” he said pointedly.
Their eyes held for a moment and she gave the smallest of nods before addressing the rest of the room. “The robed guys should be showing up any time now, right? They’re not too much of a threat, but I’d love to get rid of Saria as soon as possible. Gods, Queens…I’ve had about all I can take of powerful chicks from other dimensions. Particularly ones who have it out for me.”
“I say we go to the source,” Gunn announced.
Buffy shook her head. “They’re looking for us. I don’t want to split up and go looking for them…it’ll spread us too thin. We’ll stay here, bunk down and get ready for whatever they’re bringing with them.”
“There were hundreds of them in their dimension, and they’re small, but with weapons they’re still a threat,” Angel added.
Buffy caught his eye and nodded. “Everyone grabs a weapon or two. Xander, you, Anya, Cordelia and Gunn watch the front of the shop. Giles, Wes, Tara, Willow, you guys keep researching, find out anything we don’t already know about the Teplir. Dawn, you come with me.”
“Where are we going?” the brunette asked, rising to her feet.
“To the training room. Someone needs to guard the back entrance.”
Angel stood up. “Connor and I will go with you. If they come in the back you’ll need more help…and Dawn can protect Connor.”
“What about me?” Fred asked, crossing the room to stand in front of Angel.
His eyes softened. “You can research, if you want…or come in the back with us.”
“Yeah!” Dawn perked up. “You can show me all the stuff about babies, so I don’t mess up with the little guy.”
Buffy nodded. “Great. Workable plan. Weapons cabinet is over there…everyone grab something.” She tucked a stake into her waistband and then reached up onto the wall and took a thin-blade sword off its display hooks. Testing its weight in her hand she nodded to herself in satisfaction.
“She’s back in charge,” Anya grumbled, but headed to the table to continue the research they’d been working on.
“Buffy?” Dawn asked as the littlest Summers picked up a stake. “What about Dad?”
Buffy glanced up at her sister. “One demon at a time.”
*~*~*
The foursome plus Connor entered the back of the shop and Buffy flipped on the lights, doing a quick sweep to ensure that nothing had settled down in the shop in the past few hours.
“It’s clean,” she announced with a sideways glance at the Teplir and his Queen, “as it can be, anyway,” and the group made their way inside, settling down on the various gym mats and the ratty old couch Giles had provided for her. She turned to the Queen and her minion. “Ignore them,” she ordered Dawn. “They’re not here.”
“How long do you think it will take them to get here?” Fred asked.
Buffy shrugged. “Don’t know. Could be a few hours, could be in the next ten minutes. It’s…just after one o’clock now. I’d say settle in for the long haul.”
“Nothing we’re not used to, right Fred?” Angel asked the timid girl, trying to put her at ease.
Dawn plopped down on a blue mat and held her arms out for the sleeping child. “Can I rock him for a while?”
Fred’s eyes lit up. “Sure! He just loves when you rock him, especially if you sing. Your sister sang a great song to him, you could hear it throughout the whole hotel.”
Buffy’s cheeks flamed. “You could hear me?”
“Well, sure!” Fred gushed. “With the acoustics in the lobby? That high ceiling just…ah…I mean…” she trailed off noting the look of sheer horror on Buffy’s face.
“You sounded good,” Angel murmured under his breath.
Buffy looked down at her feet and shuffled them in embarrassment.
“What did you sing?” Dawn asked quietly.
“Ah…just some old song mom used to sing us.”
“What song?” Dawn wanted to know.
Buffy looked into her sister’s blue eyes, saw the need to know, and softened considerably. “Something I remember her singing to you,” she confided, moving to the mat and joining her sister, slinging an arm around her protectively. She kissed the top of Dawn’s head and squeezed her shoulders. “It’s an Elton John song, “Tiny Dancer.”
“Oh…that one that Phoebe thinks was written for Tony Danza,” Dawn grinned. “I know that one. It’s in Almost Famous. I like that one.” Then—“Mom used to sing that to me? Really?”
Buffy smiled. “She really did. That’s how I know it so well. She used to walk up and down the halls of the house in LA and try to get you to sleep. You cried a lot. A lot.”
“Shut up,” Dawn grimaced, without feeling, and slapped her sister lightly on her knee.
Angel watched them, his heart lifting to see Buffy happy again, joking with her sister. He could feel their bond again, as sure as he could feel his own soul within, and the sensation almost brought tears to his eyes as he watched Buffy smooth Dawn’s hair, while smiling down at his child nestled in the youngest Summers’ arms.
“Angel, you know…I could probably set up some sort of booby trap on the doors, if you want,” Fred offered.
“Booby trap?”
“On the back door…maybe let us know when they get close or something.”
He started to protest the need for such a device but saw the gleam in her eyes and gave in. “Sure, that would be great, Fred.”
“And I’ll watch Connor!” Dawn cried gleefully, bouncing the baby on her knee.
Fred bounded out of the room, gathering items for her booby trap and chattering happily to herself. After a moment of planning she returned and began hauling extra gym mats and equipment and placing them in front of the flimsy back door.
“You’ve got him?” Buffy asked her sister, nodding at the bundle in her arms.
Dawn rolled her eyes. “Yeeees. Jeez. I can take care of a little baby, Buffy.”
“Just checking,” Buffy snipped back with a smile. She shifted herself off the gym mat and crossed the room, weaving her sword through the air, testing it. The contents of the training room, Buffy’s exercise equipment and training devices, had been moved to one side of the room earlier in the week to allow Buffy some fight time with Puffy Xander, and now the Slayer took advantage of the space to practice her hand with the sword. A weapon such as this wasn’t something she fought with often.
Angel watched her, she felt his eyes as she went through practiced motions, and while it threw her just a bit to be under such scrutiny, it also urged her on. After delivering a complicated movement to a defenseless punching bag, she turned to him and cocked an eyebrow, invitation evident.
He raised his own brow saucily, and swore his long-dead heart thumped at the prospect of a good spar. Pushing himself up off the mat, handling his own sword easily, he practically sauntered to the middle of the room.
“We’ll keep Connor up,” Buffy noted as he met her in the center of the room and the two began to circle each other, warrior sizing up warrior.
Angel shrugged as he lazily strolled around her, his eyes never moving from his opponent…or, from the way he was looking at her, his prey. She tried not to shiver as his eyes locked onto hers. “He’s used to it. The hotel’s loud. Always have unexpected company coming and going.”
She nodded. “Good,” she said simply and attacked with a joyous battle cry. They danced back and forth, parried one move after another, swung and ducked, jumped and whipped in the circle.
Dawn watched from her spot across the room, fascinated. When Angel had been in town she’d still been “too young” to be involved in Slayer stuff, and she’d certainly never seen the two of them train together, though Buffy’s diary had been full of delicious details of their nights at the mansion… It had seemed to Dawn that very little training had ever gotten done between the two of them, juicy as her sister’s words had been.
Buffy’s heart was racing, Angel could hear it pounding in his ears, and it sang. Her heart was free, finally free, and loving every moment of this impromptu battle. She was letting herself go while somehow managing to be perfectly in control.
And she would be kicking his ass if he didn’t stop making observations about her and start focusing on the fight.
He regained his concentration just in time to duck and avoid a mock beheading. Spinning, he whipped his arm up and stopped her sword from coming down, while kicking out with the opposite foot and sweeping her legs out from under her.
She landed on her back with a thud, but rolled quickly to avoid his advance and sprang to her feet, a gleam in her eye. She’d missed this. Lord, but how she’d missed this. Fighting an equal…fighting Angel. It had been too long. He’d always been her best sparring partner. They’d trained together, hunting, honing her skills and his, through cemeteries and the streets of Sunnydale, but it had been years since either of them had had the luxury of letting go with an opponent so closely matched to their own prowess.
“That all you got?” he taunted her while deftly pushing her back to the brick walls of the room.
She grinned while bringing an her sword arm up to block. “Hardly. I just thought you might need me to let up on you, old man.”
He snarled, a purely animal sound that juiced her blood. “Bring it on, little girl.”
She did. Summoning strength from deep inside she drove him back, using the gym furniture neatly stacked against the walls to jump off of, attacking him with both the sword and her body. He defended himself well, gaining the upper-hand, then losing it again, until she spun in an elegant flying kick and he managed to grab her ankle in mid-air. Yanking up as she spun he propelled her body towards the ceiling. She put her arms out to stop her fall and landed hard on the mat, the breath practically knocked from her lungs. Despite all that she rolled, only to be stopped by a large black boot coming down on the mat next to her. On the other side, an identical boot appeared with an equally satisfied stomp. Rolling onto her back she looked up to find the outlined form of Angel, his features shadowed by one of the harsh lights hanging from the ceiling. When he leaned down to rest both hands on his knees, she saw the familiar smirk on his lips.
“Wow, Buff. What happened there?” he taunted.
She rolled her eyes and coughed. “You got lucky.”
“Luck…hmm…no…I’m pretty sure that didn’t have anything to do with it.”
“You just wait…yours will come,” she told him. “Now let me up.”
He grinned at her annoyed tone and offered her a hand, stepping over her body to allow her room to move.
She took his hand, then smiled evilly to herself. Balancing on one knee she gripped his hand and tugged, sending his large, and unprepared body, to the floor. They traded places as Buffy’s size sevens stepped on either side of his massive frame and her own smile became one of satisfaction. She whipped the stake out from her waistband and bent over him, bringing the point down to an uncomfortable closeness.
“Gotcha.”
Their eyes locked.
Yup, right through the heart.
Freezing for a moment, the memory washed over them both until Buffy remembered where she was and stepped back, her eyes looking anywhere but his.
“So…ah…thanks, for the workout. I haven’t done that in a…well, not in quite a while.”
He rose unsteadily to his feet, the bond between them flaring wide open, sizzling in the air. “Yeah…it was fun,” he said lamely.
“Fun?!” Dawn cried, and they both jumped, forgetting she was in the room. “That was awesome! I didn’t know you guys could do that! Wow…Buffy…you were just great! And you too, Angel,” she added, grinning wildly. “Who needs to watch The Matrix when I’ve got you two?”
Fred grinned. “It’s kyerumption,” she agreed.
They smiled back at her infectious enthusiasm. “Thanks,” Buffy said.
“Did you guys used to do this a lot? Train and stuff?”
Vampire and Slayer exchanged a glance. “Uh…yeah, sometimes,” Buffy told her.
“Wow…’cause your diar….I never knew,” Dawn amended quickly.
Buffy’s eyes narrowed, but she let it go and sank to the floor across the room, stretching out. Angel joined her a moment later, sprawling next to her.
“Worn out?” she asked him lightly.
“A bit, yeah…I know I’m supposed to have this vampire stamina and everything but…”
“Not sleeping much in forty-eight hours is whipping your butt?”
He turned to look at her and a smile played on his lips. “Something like that.”
“Hmm,” she said, “So now you’re going to make excuses for why I beat you.”
His eyebrows flew upwards. “Beat me? I don’t think so. You were down, Buffy. Any other vampire and you’d have been…” his voice trailed off as a thought exploded into his brain.
Any other vampire…Spike’s been that close to her…Spike’s touched her…and she’s still alive.
“Don’t say it,” she requested softly, pain instantly returning to her eyes.
He didn’t. Instead he stared at her, letting her see the hurt in his eyes…and the fury.
“You never should have let him touch you,” he told her softly, biting back the anger.
She still heard it. “Angel, don’t,” she warned, throwing a pleading glance at her sister.
Angel ignored her but kept his tone quiet. “Just tell me why, Buffy. Of all people…why Spike?”
Dawn was busy with Connor, oohing and aahing over the cheerful baby, and Buffy resigned herself to the line of questioning. “Why did you sleep with Darla?” she shot back.
He didn’t seem surprised by her retort. “Because I was in a bad place, and I needed someone to lose myself in.”
Her eyes met his and held. “Sounds familiar.”
“I don’t accept that.”
Anger began to rise. “It’s not for you to accept or not, Angel…it happened, it’s over. You don’t know what it was like for me. Yes, you died…but you went to Hell. Coming back here had to have been a welcome change. I thought I’d been in heaven. I thought it was over for me. And it wasn’t. I was forced back here. And yeah…now that I know where I really was, I’m so grateful to my friends, I’ll never be able to show them…but I can’t take back what happened between me and Spike. I was lonely, and he was a distraction. And it’s over.”
He watched her, knowing what she said was true, understanding it completely. It had been the exact same way for him…and he’d gotten Connor out of it. Buffy’s friends were likely to be less understanding, and rather than trying to be there for her, no matter how much he disliked it, he was chastising her.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized a moment later. “I had no right. It’s none of my business.”
She stared at him then ran a hand through her messy hair. “No…it’s okay. I didn’t react much better when you told me about Connor…and Darla.”
They shared a look of mutual understanding and apology, and sat back against the wall, feet straight out ahead of them, watching Dawn with the baby.
“So…how are you feeling?” she asked him finally.
He cleared his throat. “Ah…better…thanks. A little woozy still, I guess. But it could be from the fight. It’s not as bad as…”
“Last time you got your soul back?” she asked, giving him a small smile.
He returned her rueful grin. “Yeah. At least this time I didn’t hurt anyone.”
You died…and you were rejected from even a moment’s peace…used, just like you’re always used, then thrown away again. You think that even if you find a way to get your soul back that you’ll be whole again? You weren’t whole to begin with.
“Yeah,” she agreed quietly.
He caught her tone. “Physically, I meant…I’m sorry, Buffy…for anything I might have said to you…that wasn’t me, but I know that doesn’t really make things any easier.”
She shrugged, but appreciated his apology. “I said some stuff to you, too,” she admitted. “And some stuff was said for me.”
Laugh it up, mate. You might have gotten there first…but I’m the one who gets to keep coming back.
Angel shook it off. “I just don’t understand, Buffy…how you…and Spike…”
She shook her head. “Not now, Angel. I—we can’t do this right here. It’s too much, okay?”
Angel’s eyes met hers, and she saw the pain in them, but he nodded. “Of course…you’re right. But--”
“Later, I promise. There are some things I’d like to ask you about, too. Buffy with a soul might handle it better than the former version of me did.”
He chuckled, despite his feelings. “It’s going to be a long night, isn’t it?”
She sighed. “Really depends on the battle, I guess.”
“Not what I meant.”
Her eyes fell to the ground. “Oh…oh…well, yeah…it might be.”
They continued to sit in silence, both minds working, until Angel broke in. “Why didn’t you come to me? At least call me, confide in me. Did you think I, of all people, wouldn’t understand?”
Her fingers begin playing with the drawstring of her slim black pants. “I could say the same to you. It’s complicated, Angel, like things always are. You’re in LA…I’m here…we barely speak anymore…our lives don’t include each other.”
“Buffy…coming back from the dead is something you make time for.”
He realized what he had just said and began to chuckle. A grin slowly spread across her face as well.
“Only a conversation with us could include that sentence.”
“And sound completely normal,” he agreed.
“Look…I don’t know why I didn’t come to you. I guess I felt like the two of us had…moved on from each other. Like you wanted for us.”
“I never wanted for us to stop being friends, Buffy. We’ve been through some rough times, seen things most people can’t even imagine. If we don’t have people to talk to about that stuff…it builds up.”
She through him a glance. “Where’d that come from, oh wise-one?”
He shrugged. “I had a rough year last year. Picked up on some Zen.”
“I’ll say. The past year was hard on me too…and I could have used a friend like you.”
“When I found out you were back,” Angel began, “the only thing on my mind was to get to you, to see you for myself.”
“Your phone call was like a call from heaven,” she admitted. “Exactly what I needed.”
“You were different then, I knew…but we were both so wrapped up in our own stuff, I guess we chose to ignore it. I’m sorry. A friend wouldn’t do that. I should have been there for you.”
“You were!” she cried quietly, looking into his Hershey brown eyes. “You were there for me…you didn’t make me answer questions, you didn’t badger me, you just…you held me, Angel. You made me feel safe. That’s the last time I really remember feeling that way…when I was in your arms, that night, months ago.”
“Even…not even in his…?”
She shook her head. “Not even once. I hope you believe that.”
Her voice held such conviction, he could never have doubted her sincerity. He reached over and picked up her tiny hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I do.”
She smiled at him and opened her mouth to speak when there was a crash from the front of the shop, followed by the shouts of several of their friends. Buffy and Angel jumped to their feet and rushed to the inner door, looking in to see their friends fending off several of the newly arrived Teplir.
Throwing a glance at the back door, which would hold barring nuclear war, thanks to Fred, Buffy looked over at her sister and the little Texan. “Stay here!” Buffy she ordered, and the two girls nodded fearfully, bundling Connor more closely to them.
Together the vampire and the Slayer charged in to the Magic Box.
