Mate. 

Buffy responded to Angel’s kiss, despite the blood of Faith Sister still on his lips. There was a part of Buffy that hated Faith, that felt her sister deserved this because of what she’d done – betray their calling, betray Buffy, betray everyone in town, in the world, but siding with Mayor McSleaze in destroying that world. 

With trying to turn Angel into his demon. With trying to kill him. 

So when Angel’s lips touched hers, Buffy never hesitated. She kissed him back with all the passion she had within her, with all her love, with all her lust, and let the moment spiral out into more. His hands, cool and so alive were already stripping her, careless in where he tossed her shirt, bloody from Faith. 

Her bra quickly followed and Angel immediately attacked her breasts, his sharp fangs scraping over sensitive nipples and sending waves of heat curling through Buffy. Her fingers convulsed in his hair, holding him closer to her. Instinctively, Buffy’s legs wrapped around Angel’s waist, pulling him closer, grinding herself against his erection. 

A moan broke free from her lips, breathless, needy. Buffy couldn’t remember feeling this way in Angel’s arms, and they’d made love dozens of times over the past months. This was instinctive, primal, mate to mate. Yes, mate, she thought hazy as Angel continued his homage down the rest of her body. 

Angel, caught up in the ancient rhythm his body demanded, quickly stripped Buffy of the rest of her clothes, red leather pants – he’d have to buy her more of those – the heeled boots, socks, the thin strip of material she called underwear. When she was naked and bared before him, for one moment that stretched into time, Angel paused. Looked. Approved. 

His mate was beautiful. The toned legs, the taunt stomach, the flushed breasts. Kissing each peak again, his mouth latched onto her womanhood, tasting the secrets there, the desire. Her. 

“Buffy,” the name was a growl, a purr, a need and she felt her body coil, snap, release. Waves of hot pleasure rushed through her, starting deep within her and flashing outwards in unending pleasure. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, release, more, and Buffy struggled to catch her breath from the sheer intensity of the orgasm. 

Angel rolled them until, settling Buffy atop his body, her quick fingers racing over the waistband of his pants, tugging them downward. He was already bare-chested, already straining towards her. She couldn’t wait any longer to feel him inside her. And he couldn’t either. 

It was an urge to become one, to take their love, their loving to the next phase, the next level. To take it all the way. Beyond the physical, beyond the mental, to meld everything they were separately into one whole, complete being. 

Mates. 

“Angel!” Buffy called, breathless as he settled her over him, filling her, completing her. 

“Open your eyes, love,” he demanded, long fingers running up her breasts to play with her nipples. “Look at me.” 

Slowly, as if she hadn’t enough energy to do so, Buffy did. His eyes were a deep, passionate golden, fire and love and they burned into her very being, searing her soul, binding her soul to his. 

“You’re mine,” he whispered as they moved together. “Mine.” 

“Yes,” Buffy whispered, her eyes falling closed once more. “Yours.”

Their mating was swift then, fast and hard, as they rolled in Faith’s blood, next to her unseeing body. Buffy stiffened then, not in orgasm, but in another kind of connection. One to her fellow slayer. So, another had been called. Vaguely, and before Angel regained her complete attention, she wondered who the new girl was. 

Whoever it was, she couldn’t compare to Faith, couldn’t have that same bond, that same understanding. Chances were that the new girl was Council raised and either wouldn’t know anything about Buffy or would and would try to kill her. Either, way, Buffy didn’t care. She wouldn’t be Faith. Not her sister. And then Angel was rolling them again, hovering over her with his fangs gleaming and his body moving faster and faster within hers. 

Rocking her hips against his, Buffy kept pace with her vampire, felt the tension build, the need spiral. Angel’s mouth lowered to her neck and Buffy automatically arched, allowing him greater access. The second his fangs slipped into her neck, Buffy’s climax exploded over her, washing away everything in a wave of pure feeling. 

Taking long, long sips from her, Angel didn’t stop; this wasn’t a normal tasting when they made love. No, this was more. 

“Mate,” he said, his fangs finally slipping free from her neck, tongue laving the area to stop the flow of blood. “Mine. Together we are one, together we are forever.” 

Buffy murmured, “Mate, together,” already sliding into unconsciousness, her climax still rippling through her. Angel grinned down at her, possessive and loving and rolled them one last time to cradle her against his chest before he, too, allowed sleep to overtake him. 

Later, when Buffy woke, she didn’t feel any differently. She should, she knew but somehow she didn’t. 

“I don’t know why,” Angel said but thought that sooner rather than later, she’d feel the weight of what she did to Faith. And he planned on being there for her when that time came. 

“But I killed her!” Buffy shouted, looking at her blood stained clothes, the blood on her body. “Oh, God, what did I do to her?” Her sister, her friend, her…and she’d killed her. Murdered her in cold blood so that Angel might live. And that was why. For Angel. Always for Angel. 

“No,” he soothed her, picking her up and carrying her to the shower. He needed to clean the blood off her, and then take care of the congealing blood on the floor…and Faith’s body. If nothing else, he’d bury her properly – Buffy and Faith both deserved nothing less. 

“I did. I drained her, I killed her.” Turning the water on full blast and as hot as Buffy could stand it, Angel set his lover under the spray and joined her. She was still, in shock, and yet…he wanted her again. 

“What did you do to me?” Buffy asked suddenly, her hands reaching for the washcloth to scrub, scrub, scrub the blood off her skin. Faith, sister, I’m sorry. God, I’m so, so sorry. Why? Why did it come to this? 

But there was no answer. And now, there wasn’t even a link. No, the piece of Buffy that was once connected to her sister was connected to another. To the next slayer, to the one called after Faith’s…death. Buffy hoped she never met that girl. Never. 

“Marked you,” Angel whispered as his fingers traced the scaring tissue on her neck. There was no small amount of pride in his voice, in his look as he met her eyes. He did it knowingly and he wasn’t ashamed of it; that alone sent a shiver of desire through Buffy. 

“Marked?” 

“Mated with you,” he clarified. “You’re mine, my lover, my mate. Always. Now,” his fingers traced the mark, trailing down to pinch her nipple. “Everyone will know it. This proclaims you as mine; none can challenge it, not unless there is consent from you.” 

“And if there isn’t?” 

“Then weapons are involved,” Angel chuckled as he took the clothe from Buffy, gently washing her back. Her skin was red from where she scrubbed Faith’s blood away; he’d kiss all those marks later, but for now, they needed to get back to work. Faith and Richard’s plan had already taken too much of their precious time. 

“Weapons?” Buffy laughed, stood under the water and wet her hair. 

“If someone challenges me for you, and you refuse, then I have the right to kill that person.” 

“And how will everyone know that you’re mine?” Buffy said after a moment. She wasn’t entirely sure of all the logistics, but knew that whatever Angel had done – and she damn well knew that he hadn’t told her all of it – that she was perfectly fine with that. “And what if someone challenges me for you?” 

Angel smiled, that not entirely all-there smile that she’d grown to love over the past months, the one that said his demon was talking and that he didn’t care about anything else but she. Buffy could live with that, too. 

“We’ll work on that later, love,” he promised. “But you’ll have to mark me as well. And the same rules apply in Challenging.” 

Buffy smiled, pleased that she and Angel had such a permanent, meaningful connection. She let him wash her, let him wrap her in a large fluffy towel and take her back into the bedroom, laying her on the bed, facing away from Faith. 

“What about Faith?” Her voice was soft, scared, mourning.

”We’ll say goodbye later,” he promised.
~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy and Angel walked into the library later that day. 

No one seemed surprised to see Angel up and about, perfectly healthy – for a vampire – and alive – again, for a vampire. No one commented on it, either. Willow smiled at her friend, still a little unsure on her own feelings about Buffy’s decision, but then…she wasn’t sure what she’d do if the situation were reversed and Oz was the one endangered. If Oz was the one dieing and she had the means to cure him. At the cost of another’s life. 

Angel nodded to Willow, a little more accepting of her presence and gave Oz a small smile. Jealous, Willow wondered what her boyfriend and Buffy’s had in common that allowed them such camaraderie, such ease together. The way she and Buffy used to be. 

“It worked,” Oz stated, “And…?” 

“It worked,” was all Buffy said. She said nothing about Faith, but then everyone knew the outcome of that when Oz found the cure. Oz nodded, returning to his pile of books as if that were all that mattered. To him, it was. 

Xander opened his mouth, but Angel just growled at him. It didn’t stop him, though it really should have. “So you killed someone to save your boyfriend.” 

“No, Xander,” Buffy replied. “Faith was already dead.” His mutinous expression didn’t waver and Buffy knew that Angel didn’t care one whit for the boy and would be more than happy to kill him. But then they needed everyone for this ascension. “I wouldn’t say anything else if I were you,” she insisted. “You have no right to talk and frankly, you have no idea what you’re talking about. But the darkness within Faith had already killed her.” 

Wesley entered just then, his ruffled British exterior catching everyone’s attention. “Ah, good, we’re all here.” 

“What’s Mr. Screams Like a Girl doing here?” Xander demanded. He didn’t like Wesley, either. Not since he was obviously after his girl. Ex girl. So not the point. 

“Xander,” Giles said wearily, “Do shut the hell up.” Turning to Wesley, fellow Council fugitive, Giles asked, “They’re still not talking?” 

“No,” Wes sighed. “In fact, I get the feeling that once this ascension happens – or not – then we’re all going to be in danger from their…operatives.” Assassins. 

“Yes,” Giles nodded. “I was afraid of that. How much time do you think?” 

“The mayor is set to ascend tomorrow. If we stop him, I’d say no more than twenty-four hours.” 

“And if we don’t,” Giles added, more for everyone else’s benefit than Wesley’s, “Then they have another reason to come after us.” 

“So you’re saying it’s a lose-lose situation?” Cordelia asked. “Well, sorry to hear it, guys.” She planned on being far, far away when that happened. 

“It’s all of us, Cordelia,” Giles said in exasperation. “We’re all a part of this, we all know of Buffy’s involvement with Angel, of Faith going rogue, and of everything else that’s happened. We’re all in danger from the Council.” 

“You mean me, too?” She squeaked. “Oh, no, I’m only here because….” Why was she here? “Because,” she shrugged. “Hell if I know. But then you said everyone needed to help, right?” A thought crossed her mind. “Everyone like everyone?” 

“Yes, Cordelia,” Giles murmured, walking to the table that was piled high with research books. Useless research books. “Everyone. That’s why we’re all here.” 

“What about everyone else?” She demanded. “Like the whole school. If I have to be here, shouldn’t they have to help?” 

Giles paused in his movement, flipping through yet another worthless chapter on ascending and turned to look at the shallow girl. Yes, she may have changed in the past few years, but she was still a self-centered vain woman. But she was one with a brain and this – in the hour they needed it the most – was when she decided to use it. 

“Cordelia,” Giles said slowly as his eyes focused on Wes’ speculative ones and then on Buffy’s interested ones. “You might be onto something.” 

It was an hour later when Giles had a chance to speak with Buffy alone. Angel was gathering weapons – and help – from around town, Willow and Oz were setting up their one and only idea – when in doubt, blow him up. From all information they did manage to gather, fire wasn’t helpful to what the mayor wanted to become. If it wasn’t helpful, then it was harmful. 

And Xander was with Cordelia, dividing the graduating class of 1999 into groups. Cordelia’s idea of everyone helping was what they needed. It was an advantage and one they desperately needed to exploit if they had a hope in hell of destroying the mayor-cum-demon. She’d been slightly put out to realize that she had to help in rounding up the student body, but then she hadn’t a choice in the matter. 

Everyone was going to help defend the town this time. 

“Buffy,” Giles said softly, waiting for her to turn from the table where she was studying the already gathered weapons. She did, but said nothing. “I did you a great disservice,” he began. “I allowed my allegiance with the Council to cloud my judgment, I allowed their wishes, the ‘way things always were’ to blind me to what was really important.” 

She still said nothing, but Giles didn’t allow that to stop him. “I don’t approve at all of your keeping Angel a secret, especially since you and he…” his face colored and he stammered for a moment. “He are, well, are…together again. You put us all in danger, Buffy and you know it.” 

“I know that Angel wasn’t a threat, nor is he now,” she said. “And I know that I love him and the he loves me. He’d never do anything to harm, me, Giles. You know that.” 

“Be that as it may,” his eyes landed on the mark on her neck but he said nothing about it. He knew exactly what it meant, what Angel had done to his beautiful slayer and what it meant in the Vampire World. He wasn’t sure he approved of that, either, but it was done now. And at least now, no matter what, Angel would always be there to protect Buffy. that was something at least, and something that Giles could appreciate. Something that took a weight off his chest when he thought of her future. 

“You willingly,” he continued, bringing his eyes back to hers, “And knowingly kept him a secret. And yet I can understand why. I admit,” he shook his head. “That I wouldn’t have been accepting of his return, but then I’d hope you know why.”

”I do. And that was part of the reason. But would you have ever accepted him?” Giles didn’t answer, so Buffy did for him. “No, you wouldn’t have. Everything he ever did in all his time as Angelus, he did to me last year. I know what he did when he was soulless, I know what it felt like to be tortured and tormented by the one being in the entire world you love more than anything and anyone. And yet he came back to me.” 

Giles said nothing to that. He could see Buffy’s point, see her conviction, her love for the vampire. And he knew, absolutely, that Angel would never – with a soul he couldn’t ever – hurt her. Yet she refused to see his problem. Maybe that was partly his fault, maybe if he’d come clean immediately, maybe if he’d accepted Angel before now. But it didn’t matter. The relationship he thought they had had been tried and tested…and failed. 

He mourned that, wondered if Buffy did. 

“And still,” he murmured as he turned to leave. “You refuse to see my side. Refuse to see why I didn’t tell you of my part in the Cruciamentum.” 

“And you refuse,” Buffy said with tears in her voice. “To see just how much I love Angel, how much I need him in my life.” 

“I’m sorry for that,” he said softly. “But then I guess it doesn’t matter anymore.” 

“It does, Giles,” Buffy nodded, though he kept his back towards her. “It does.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Angel returned just as the sun was setting. “Willy’s agreed,” he announced to the room, though his eyes were solely on Buffy. “So did the rest of his patronage. We’ll have a small demon army that isn’t allied with Wilkins at our backs.” 

“You can trust them?” Xander demanded. He felt useless, left out, and angry at the world. Buffy had killed Faith for her lover; no one ever felt that way about him. Despite Buffy’s silent betrayal about Angel’s return, everyone accepted her as their leader in this apocalypse. Neither Cordelia or Willow had yet to forgive him for that indiscretion with Willow. Oh, Willow and Oz both talked with him, but there was a definite coolness in their tone.

”Yes,” Angel said shortly. He could trust them because he’d threatened them all individually. And he trusted Willy to help Buffy. If there was one thing – and there was only one thing – that Willy liked more than his own life, it was Buffy. he called her strange things, but the sense Angel got off him was that Willy respected Buffy more than anyone and if he could help in any way, then he would. 

“Good,” Buffy stood, walked to Angel and faced the room. 

Xander looked back, ready but angry. Cordelia even paid attention though it was clear she hated that her life was as mixed up in this as everyone else’s. Willow and Oz seemed finally at peace with each other. Willow smiled her shy encouraging smile to Buffy and the slayer vowed to work on their friendship. The foundation was still there, but it was crumbling, unsteady. Oz just nodded. 

He’d proved to be a loyal friend, staunch and supportive when no one else was. Out of all the people gathered here now, as the sun set on the last day before all hell literally broke loose, Buffy wondered at that. Wondered at what made friends, friends, and what made them turn on you. 

But Oz was loyal, he supported Buffy and Angel and he and Angel had forged a friendship that was deep, true, and – in their individual demonic ways – supportive. Maybe that could be the catalyst for Buffy to rebuild her friendship with Willow. 

Wesley who turned out to be a half-decent human being. It was being fired from the Council that did it, Buffy figured. His life, the reason for him, the purpose on this Earth had been forcibly taken from him in a horrible manner and all because he tried to help his slayer. Something that all watchers should do because it was the slayers who fought their war. 

Giles. Buffy didn’t think she’d ever see him again. If what he and Wes said was true, then the Council was after them…after, of course, they finished this latest big bad one way or the other. How typical was that? No, if they survived this ascension, then Angel was taking her away from Sunnydale, away from Hellmouths, and away from the town who had kicked her one too many times. Giles. She loved her watcher even now, even after. But was there a way to rebuild what they’d lost?

Buffy didn’t know and now certainly wasn’t the time to try. 

“Is everything set?” She asked instead. She was the general and her troops were waiting for their command. “Xander, are the weapons distributed?” 

“Yes,” he replied and this time, there wasn’t anything in his voice except tactical understanding. “Every graduating student has a cross, holy water, and a weapon: crossbow, bow and arrow, stake, something. Larry is in charge of the flamethrowers – there are only about three of those – and he seems just a tad too excited about that.” 

Everyone laughed as he’d meant them too and Buffy smiled in appreciation. Turning to Cordelia she asked, “Cordy, do they know what to do?” 

“Yes,” the brunette said. “Archers are to wait for the signal from Xander, as are flamethrowers. Those with other weapons are protecting that group for as long as possible. The rest are to wait for the eclipse and fallback to the sewer entrance and backup Angel.” 

“Angel?” Buffy asked.

He nodded, knowing exactly what his lover wanted to know. “Yes, everyone knows. We’ll be at the sewer entrance an hour before the ceremony begins. The second the sun is gone, we’ll be there. I’ve instructed the demons who agreed to this,” and killed those who didn’t in case they had any idea of turning to Richard and snitching, “Not to harm any of the students.” 

“Wesley, Giles?” Buffy nodded as she moved on. Angel took a small step closer to her, not touching her, just lending his support. “Are the explosives ready?”

The watchers nodded, shared a glance, and explained. “As you can see,” Wesley started, “We’ve cleaned out the library of all Giles’ books.” The rest – the real high school books – were already in storage until this was decided one way or the other. “We have enough explosives to create a very large explosion, but I don’t know what it’ll to do an ascended Wilkins.” 

“We’ll start piling them in here,” Giles took over, “As soon as the sun rises tomorrow. Wesley and I’ve decided that we don’t want to take the chance that Wilkins will make another surprise visit here and see what we’re up to.” 

“I doubt that,” Buffy murmured. She’d killed Faith. Sister. Wilkins was most likely mourning that death now. If he knew. Angel hadn’t told her what he’d done with Faith’s body, but Buffy doubted that leaving it on the steps to city hall was his idea. Wilkins had to suspect, there wasn’t any other way. He had to suspect. 

“This is our only plan,” she needlessly reminded everyone. 

“Nevertheless,” Giles said, clearing his throat as he understood what Buffy meant if Wilkins knew of Faith’s…death, then he’d be distracted, angry. Upset. “It seems best to keep as much of this a secret as possible.” 

“Agreed,” Wesley nodded. “If this explosion doesn’t kill him, it may weaken him enough so that you might, Buffy. It will, should everything go right, destroy the school and most likely create a small hole around it.” 

“Great,” Buffy muttered. “Every school I go to, I burn something down.” 

Wisely, no one said anything to that. 

“Well, there’s nothing more we can do here tonight,” she said louder. “It’s your last night before the big fight. Go home, relax, see your family, your friends.” Well, everyone they all knew were already here. “I don’t want anything to happen to any of you,” Buffy continued honestly, “But I can’t guarantee that something won’t.” 

For a long minute no one moved. What they knew, what they were, was here. Friends, family, lovers. But then no, that bond was fractured, broken. And no one knew how to repair it. How to get it to what it once was. 

Buffy and Angel were the first to leave, walking out the library door – long since repaired from Angel’s angry entrance months ago – hand in hand. No one followed. 

Slowly, they all began to leave, Oz and Willow, Xander, Cordelia. Wesley and Giles stayed a moment longer, silent. They knew what happened next. If they succeeded and Wilkins died, then they were nothing more than fugitives, on the run until they were either caught, or they convinced the Council they’d repented. The last wasn’t a viable option, not for either, not anymore. 

“I know of a decent English pub,” Giles offered. “It’s on the edge of town, but they serve decent beer.” 

“Really?” Wesley accepted with a smile. Neither had anyone else to turn to, no one to say goodbye to, no one in this town – other than those who had just left – who cared. “Then let me buy you a pint,” he offered.
~~~~~~~~~~
“Mom!” Buffy called from the living room. 

“Buffy?” Joyce asked, walking out of the kitchen with a plate of chocolate chip cookies in one hand. “What’s wrong, dear?” 

“I don’t have a lot of time,” her daughter said tearfully. Angel was packing up his stuff and would be by within the hour to collect her things. They weren’t coming back after this – if they lived, that was. 

“The mayor is ascending tomorrow; it’s going to be horrible. I don’t want you anywhere near here,” she began without preamble as she latched onto her mother’s arm and drug Joyce up the stairs and into her room. “In fact, I need you completely gone from Sunnydale.” 

“Buffy!” Joyce shouted, stopping dead in her tracks just inside her bedroom door. “Slow down and tell me just what the hell you mean. I’m not going anywhere without you!” 

“Look,” Buffy took a deep breath and tried to calm. She didn’t feel like she had a lot of time. Actually, she knew she hadn’t. but this was important. It was also the last time she was going to see her mother. 

“I know you went to see Angel, to try and talk him into leaving me. You were partially coerced into doing so, Mayor Wilkins wanted him gone, me distracted, but it didn’t work. I know you love me and want the best for me, but you have to do this. Wilkins is going to try and turn himself into a full-fledged demon. I‘m not entirely,” she admitted, “Sure what that’s all about, but it’s not good.”

“Buffy-” Joyce tried, taking another step into the room when Buffy started pulling suitcases out of the closet. 

“Listen mom,” Buffy cut her off, “I don’t have a lot of time. You need to leave. Angel will be here in an hour, we’ll help you load up as much from the gallery as we can, and as much here as we can, but that’s it.” 

“You’re not coming back,” Joyce realized. “Even if you win, you’re leaving.” 

“I have to leave. It’s too dangerous here for me, and it’s even more so for you.” Buffy started throwing clothes and shoes into the suitcases – her mom and several large ones, perfect for fast packing. Somehow, Buffy didn’t think that this was what her mom had in mind. 

“You need to leave start someplace fresh. I know it’s hard, and I know you didn’t want to, but mom,” Buffy stopped, looked, really looked at her mother and finished earnestly. “You need to.” 

“What about you?” Joyce knew – now – what this town was like, knew what went bump in the night and knew that it was her daughter who kept it at bay. “Where will you go, what will you do?” 

“Angel and I,” Buffy said slowly, “Are leaving tomorrow. If we survive,” she added. “If we survive,” she repeated when her mother winced, needing to be as clear about this as possible. “Then the Watcher’s Council will be after us. It isn’t safe for us here an it certainly isn’t safe for you.” 

“Buffy-” Joyce tried again.

“Mom, I love you,” she crossed to where Joyce still stood. “But I won’t put you in danger and I absolutely will not leave Angel.” 

For long, long minutes, mother and daughter stood in silence. Minutes they didn’t really have. Finally Joyce moved fully into the room and continued her daughter’s haphazard packing. 

“Be safe,” she whispered as she gathered underwear and socks. “I love you, Buffy,” Joyce said. “Please try and let me know you’re okay?” 

“I will,” Buffy promised as she went to pack her own things. “Just remember; don’t invite anyone in, don’t stay out after dark, and don’t trust strangers. Oh, and mom.” Buffy stopped, looked back at her mother. “You don’t know where I am or what I am. If the Council finds you, if they ask, all you know is that I’m a self reliable girl who got you out of a weird jam when some man high on something kidnapped you.” 

Buffy turned back to her room. “It’s safer that way.”
~~~~~~~~~~
It was well before dawn when Angel led Buffy into the library. 

Somehow, neither were surprised to find everyone else there, too. A burst of laughter greeted the vampire and his slayer as they walked through the doors, hand in hand in the hours before the sun rose and their day began. Everyone they’d left several hours before was again gathered here, at the one table in the now empty library. Donuts and coffee covered the table and boisterous laughter echoed around the room. 

“Buffy!” Xander shouted, grin firmly in place. A real grin, too. “You’re just in time, there’s one last mocha,” he teased, moving the large cup back and forth in front of her. He didn’t say anything to Angel, but then he didn’t say anything to Angel. A step up. 

Smiling, Buffy accepted the cup as she and Angel wandered further into the room. Her mom was safely on her way to anyplace but Sunnydale, Cleveland, or Atlanta – the three North America Hellmouths. Apparently, there was a reason Sherman sacked Atlanta, one that the history books didn't convey. The U-Haul they’d stolen packed to the limit with her gallery work and as much of Joyce’s personal items as they could load up. 

“Am I late to the party?” Buffy joked. 

“Well,” Willow said as she offered Buffy a jelly donut. “What better place to spend our last few hours there here?” 

The implied words were clear. If this was their last night, then bygones were bygones and they’d spend it with friends and family. Cordelia said nothing to that, but offered. “Besides, the watcher’s sprung for breakfast.” 

Buffy laughed, taking the last chair and curling up on Angel’s lap. Their own things were in his car – yes, Angel had a car that she knew nothing about – ready for them to leave if – when – everything went as planned. After loading Angel’s Plymouth, they’d spent several hours making love in their bed, reminding each other of what they meant to the other, of their love, of their desire. 

But then neither had been able to sleep despite the lack of sleep during the past few days. Angel suggested going to the library to see if Giles and Wesley needed any help and Buffy had jumped at the chance to leave. She hated saying goodbye to the mansion, it was she and Angel’s first home. But then wherever he was, was home. 

“So, a toast then?” Willow suggested as they all raised their cups – coffee for the American teenagers, tea for the Watchers and a disguised coffee cup full of blood for Angel, compliments of Giles. 

“To success,” she said, “And to friendship.” 

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