She Comes to Me
Past, Present, and Future
Feedback to Christine
*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*
He looked around at the shattered remains of his dream. How
had it come to this? Everything he had worked for, all he had believed in, all
that he wanted for this world. How had it all been reduced to a pile of rubble
no taller than a sapling?
He knew how and a growl of rage erupted from his withered
throat. Rage that had not waned an iota in years, rage that was directed at two
specific individuals and their close knit traitorous family. Their ‘family’
ha! Family was not a term he would use to describe that motley group; family
portrayed something that was missing from the assembly of people who had reduced
his world, his life’s work to nothing but…this.
He looked out at the vast landscape, the acres of grassy
knolls and thick virgin forests; untouched by time, protected by magick and
ignorance. They had taken all that away from him: turned his own family, those
who had stood by him for years, who had stood by the vision, the dream, for
centuries. Had turned those he considered trusted friends and allies against
him.
They would not get away with it. If he had to spend the
last years of his life, no matter who he had to make a deal with, no matter what
he had to do, he’d see that they paid for what they had done. All of them. And
then he’d see them in hell.
Slowly turning his back on what was once the center of his
existence, he walked away, never looking back at the debris his life’s work
had become. “I swear they’ll pay, if it’s the last thing I ever so.”
And the moment those words were out of his mouth, a
stranger appeared in front of him. He looked to be in his late thirties, dressed
simply in cotton pants and a corded sweater. For all appearances he looked
normal, but there was something about him…
“I hear you’re looking for a way to extract your
revenge.” It was a statement, not a question despite the polite appearance the
Stranger showed.
“Yes,” It was a growl, a snarl as his rage threatened
to erupt. “Who are you?” The latter was said as an after thought; as if it
were something he had to say when faced with a stranger who had seemingly popped
up out of nowhere and read his mind.
“No one of consequence. But I can help you.”
The wind was whipping around them now, but didn’t seem to
touch either man standing in the ruined clearing. There was a part of him that
found that odd, that wondered at it and thought he should feel less at ease,
more on alert, something other than…intrigued.
“How?”
“Simple,” the Stranger answered with a smile that
chilled to the bone. “You want revenge against those who turned against you;
against those who orchestrated that…mutiny. I do as well. I had plans for them
that didn’t include…this.” He waved his hand around what was once a tall
proud building, centuries old.
“What do you need from me?”
The Stranger smiled and it was not a pleasant one. If it
were possible to feel anything other than the bone deep rage and mind numbing
hatred, the older man would have been…scared. As it was, all he did was listen
to what the being, this Stranger, had to say.
“At this moment, nothing. I know everything that
happened, and I know how to…fix it. I know the exact moment things changed and
I know the perfect way to extract your revenge upon them. All I need is your
consent and we’ll begin.”
Quentin Trevors nodded and shook the hand of the man
standing in front of him. “Then you shall have it.”
*********
What Happened…
“Doyle, I
need to see the Oracles, I need to…make this right.” Angel was still bruised
and sore from his fight with the Mohra Demon but that didn’t stop his
determination.
“Right? Angel, man, are you sure? I mean what about the
slayer? What about you and the
slayer?” He could not allow his friend to renounce everything they had because
of one tiny incident with a superior force.
His friend got a faraway look in his eye, a slight smile
playing over his features. “Yes. I’m sure. If I’m like this then I can’t
protect her. I have to protect her, Doyle. She’s my everything and if
something were to happen to her because I couldn’t be there to help her…”
He trailed off but there was no need to finish the sentence.
Heaving a heavy sigh, Doyle nodded at the man he considered
a friend, his closest. “Okay, but I don’t like this.”
“Promise me, Doyle…promise me you won’t tell
Buffy.” There was a large part of Angel that wished his friend wouldn’t
agree, but Doyle only nodded, promising not to say a word…to the slayer.
Of course he was thinking how to get the slayer here to
stop the idiot of an ex-vampire before things went too far. He was planning on
calling Cordelia and explaining things to his princess, having her bring Buffy
along and subsequently not breaking his word to Angel, when something hit him.
His last thought was not for Angel or Buffy, or what a
colossal mistake this was and the horrible repercussions it was going to have on
the future of the world. No, his last thought was for Cordelia. And then
everything went black until Angel returned from his meeting and revived him.
After that day he never remembered having met the slayer
for more than those few moments at the beginning of her visit. He didn’t
remember, though Angel had told him, about the day he was human, and he didn’t
remember being hit over the head with a blunt object because the world as one
man knew it wasn’t good enough for him.
That man wanted things to go his way, wanted to be the one
responsible for winning the End Days, wanted to be the one to go down in the
annals of history as the one to organize the winning war. He wanted to be the
one to do so, not some slut of a slayer and her demon lover. Not people who had
turned their backs on everything the Council stood for, not people who were mere
amateurs, who had no idea the power the Watcher’s Council wielded.
As Quinton Travors stood over the prone form of Allan
Francis Doyle, he smiled. It was by no means sane, tinged with a wildness that
would have scared his younger self. His laugh was cold and just a bit unhinged.
He threw away the iron bar used to cosh the head of the half demon that
was had wanted to change things, who had the sheer audacity to think that he
knew better than Quinton.
Because Quinton Travors wanted to be the one remembered for
ending the End Days.
*********
What Was Meant To
Be…
The phone rang, once, twice, Cordelia picked it up just
before the third ring, mustn’t seem too eager with these Hollywood types.
Maybe she had made an impression after all at tonight’s party.
“Cordy?” Willow’s voice echoed from the other end.
“Willow, hey!” She replied with genuine pleasure in her
voice, just a little disappointed that it wasn’t some big name come to offer
her the world. At least it was a friendly voice.
The red head was one of the few people Cordelia Chase still
kept in touch with in Sunnydale. Most of her ‘friends’ had written her off
after the Xander incident and she hadn’t cared enough to try to get them back.
Then there was that whole ‘daddy cheated on his taxes’ scandal that rocked
her world. Sunnydale things were better left there.
“So, how are things there?”
“You know the same, college just started and all, that’s been interesting, a real change from high school. Plus, that whole lack of Hellmouth in the library. Makes studying there a lot less…stressful.”
Willow went on to tell her friend about college and the gang, skimming over the
part where Buffy was still in a major funk about Angel leaving. They had all
seen the veil drift over her the night after they had blown up the school; she
closed herself off, shut down, tried to conceal her pain as best she could.
But she was fooling no one. No one that is except her
mother who was still in major denial about her daughter’s future and whom she
wanted to spend it with. Joyce Summers seemed to be the only one happy about
Angel’s departure. Well, she and Xander.
“Speaking of,” though they hadn’t been that didn’t
matter to two who had witnessed close to three years of the angst-y deep love
known as Buffy and Angel. “You’ll never believe who I ran into tonight.”
“Brad Pitt?”
“No.”
“Ian Macgregor?”
“No, Will…” Then, because the answer was less than
obvious and Cordy didn’t want to spend all night answering twenty questions,
“Angel.”
The silence that greeted her on the other end wasn’t
surprising in the least. She could just imagine Willow opening and closing her
mouth as she attempted to think of something to say to that. Cordy could
sympathize: seeing Angel in LA had been a shock, speaking with him almost more
so.
“Wow, well, um, how does he look?”
“The same, Willow, vampires don’t exactly age.”
“Right, right, I know that. And..?”
“He misses her, I can tell. We didn’t exchange more
than half a dozen words, but it was the way he looked, more haunted than I’ve
ever seen even him. Not that that’s saying much, but at least with Buffy
he…smiled. And the smile never creeped me out before; tonight there was
something in it that did.”
“I wish there was some way for things to have worked
out…” Willow only wanted her best friend happy and Angel made her so.
Therefore, for Willow at least, it was quite simple. If Angel made Buffy happy
and Buffy made Angel happy, then the conclusion was that they should be
together. It was a shame that it just wasn’t going to work out like that.
“I know, Will…maybe I can talk him into coming back to
Sunnydale with me for some of my things. Accidentally run into Buffy…” Cordy
was reaching, true, but it wasn’t totally impossible…in an alternate fantasy
world.
“I don’t think he’d go for that, Cordy. But,
maybe…?” Never one to give up hope, Willow tried.
“No,” the brunette sighed on the other end of the phone
line, “I don’t think he will, either. Maybe I can work her into the
conversation. Some...how…maybe.”
“Maybe,” Willow agreed though neither were overly optimistic about the chances of that.
Well that and Cordelia Chase wasn’t exactly known for her subtle approaches.
~~~~~~~~
“Riley’s a doof, Xander.” Buffy said as she looked at
her mentor for more information as to why she had been called here when she was
trying to cheer up Willow…Willow who had left the party early and Buffy
hadn’t even noticed.
Shows what a great friend she was; Buffy knew exactly what
her best friend was going through and instead of helping, she tried to steer
away, deathly afraid that to be near that kind of heartbreak again would bring
back everything she had been more or less suppressing for months.
But Spike, right. Damn the vampire for coming back to her
town. How many times did she have to kick his ass before he finally got the
hint? Well, she was in the mood for some serious slayage, Angel’s memory too
close to the surface for her to deal with in any kind of calm rational manner.
It looked like it was going to be one more ass kicking for Spike and Buffy was
so going to enjoy that.
Yes, that was just fine with her.
~~~~~~~~
“Are you sure you’re alright, Willow?” Buffy asked
yet again as she brought her friend some water and pain pills; whoever those
commandoes were they had knocked her around pretty hard.
“Yeah, fine. Just…you know the same.” Willow was
making less and less sense but it wasn’t from the blow to the head. Oz’s
leaving had torn a hole inside of her that she doubted very much her capacity to
heal.
“I know…” Buffy said as she sat beside her best
friend. “I do know, it’s just…”
“Just that everything I’m going through reminds you of
Angel. I know, I understand, I just need my best friend, you know?”
Willow was snuggled under a soft blanket, curled onto her
side, her aching head resting against four pillows as she looked at Buffy. The
knot on the back of her head was finally beginning to subside and Willow could
only be grateful. Of course that could have been because she had really exceeded
the maximum recommended dosage for the aspirin she had been taking nonstop since
Buffy had stormed in and saved the day. By about ten times the recommended
dosage.
“I know, Willow, and I’m trying, but it’s just so
hard…” Buffy trailed off, once again berating herself for her weakness.
Changing the subject Buffy tried for glib, “So, Riley. Why are you pushing so
hard?”
Willow laughed then stopped at the stabbing pain. “He
seems nice and since you’re really on Anti-Angel mode,” She said, the high
aspirin dosage making her bolder than she normally would have been, “I thought
he might be a nice diversion.”
“You’re pushing him at me for a diversion? Spike is a
diversion, Riley’s a doof. Or, as Xander so eloquently puts it, Teutonic.
Right, if I remember, are knights or something so I’m not really sure what
he’s talking about. And I admit, Riley is a nice enough guy and if…”
Buffy paused then decided that since keeping it all bottled
up hadn’t help maybe sharing would. “Angel owns my heart, my soul,
everything about me. At the most I could look at Riley as a cherished friend.
Maybe…Maybe if Angel had never entered the picture something else could have
developed, but…”
“But,” Willow finished for her friend, “Since Angel
did then he’s always going to be there. I understand, Buffy, you know I do. I
just need some of that same understanding for me.”
“I know, Willow, and I’ll try…no, I’ll do better
than that. I’ll be Best Friend Buffy for you.” And if Buffy’s heart broke
just a little bit more as she thought about what she could never have with
Angel, then she kept that to herself.
Some things were just never meant to be shared.
~~~~~~
Spike was not having a good day.
As a matter of fact, the last few weeks sucked royally.
Poor choice of words as ‘sucking’ wasn’t exactly in his vocabulary any
longer. Damn commandoes, who did they think they were? Implanting some damn chip
in his brain to keep him from harming people. Did they think it’d do any good?
At least the slayer had the decency to kill a being
outright. She didn’t leave them to starve, to rot from frustration and hunger
and being a total outcast from the only society that even remotely accepted each
other. None of this torture.
Except, of course, when it was warranted for information.
And even that Spike could understand. Naturally he’d use a few of those
methods throughout the years, for information, true, but it was great fun as
well…
Damn it! Bloody chip, can’t even think about harming a
human and look what happens.
Breathing heavily he slowly opened his eyes, noticing that
the searing pain had passed. Damn chip.
His situation had not improved. But at least he had the
promise of food. Giles’ apartment was not exactly the place he wished to find
himself, but it was better than roaming the streets looking for a meal, the
commandoes on his back, Harmony looking to stake him in one of her ‘I am woman
hear me roar’ moments. What had he seen in her, anyway? Oh, right, sex; it
wasn’t even that good.
And everything would have probably worked itself out just
fine and dandy…and maybe with a way to remove this sodden hardware, but then
who should show up but the Great Poof himself.
Angel was lurking nearby, Spike could tell. Blood, after
all, always tells. Every once in a while he could see Buffy pause, looking as if
she sensed him, too, trying to find the shape of him in the shadows of the
night. It seemed that the self delusion that plagued most of the town had
infected her when Angel left.
Spike’s train of thought was interrupted as they were
suddenly attacked by…Indians? What was this, a western? And how the bloody
hell had he gotten himself involved in this? All he wanted was a meal, warm and
fresh preferably, and this is what he got in return? Bloody great.
~~~~~~~~
“Yeah, especially with Angel here and all…”
Xander’s words echoed around Buffy as she walked into his
building, slowly through the doors and paused, listening to the conversation
below. The tingling just below her skin was almost enough to drown out the words
but not quite enough to heal her heart…not yet.
“It wasn’t a social call. I was there to protect her. I
stayed out of sight. She didn’t even know I was there.” But he knew exactly
where she was even when she wasn’t in his sight.
“Really?” Cordelia asked though she already knew that
from his nod. “So you avoided her.”
“Look, Buffy is always going to be a part of me, and
that’s never going to change. But she’s human and I’m…” Angel looked
away from his friends, “not. And that’s also never going to change. We said
our goodbyes, no need to stir any of this up again.” Even though they had
never said goodbye because between them it never would be ‘goodbye.’
Cordelia snorted at that. Men, vampire or human it
didn’t matter, they were all delusional. “You don’t want to ‘stir’ but
if my ex came to town and was all stalking me in the shadows and then left and
then didn’t even say ‘hello’ I’d be…”
Buffy took this as her cue and said, “A little upset.”
She locked eyes with Angel and felt everything she had ever tried to repress
about him (why had she wanted to in the first place?) flood back through her.
Making her complete. “Wouldn’t you?”
~~~~~~~~~
Spike looked around Giles’ apartment as he fidgeted with
the ropes that held him securely in place. Tied with chains to chair, check, out
of sun, check, recently fed (though it was only a little, they apparently wanted
to keep him weak – smart humans), check. Annoying Scooby’s, check. Giles
flipping through old musty books, check.
No, everything was the same, nothing had changed. But
something was different, there was something missing…? It was strange, this
feeling of lacking something that had always been there.
So what was missing?
Closing his eyes, he listened to his blood, listened to the
rhythm and cadence and everything it said and what it didn’t say. It pounded
through him, stolen and unmoving though it was. Drusilla was there as she always
was, there were several of his childer as well. But there was one missing…
“Bloody hell!” He shouted into the relative quietness
of the room as he stopped struggling against his bonds.
He didn’t pay attention when everyone stared at him,
wondering why he had suddenly become so agitated. He didn’t listen to Willow
and Giles speculate on whatever they thought was the matter. No, all he heard
was the lack of tempo that was his Sire.
If it were possible, he paled even more; if he needed to
breathe, he wouldn’t have been able to. He sat completely still, trying
desperately to find the bond that was Angelus. But it just wasn’t there. The
bond with neither Angel nor Angelus – and they were different, the addition of
the soul tweaked the Sire/Childe bond ever so slightly – no longer beat inside
of him.
His Sire, his Yoda, his one time very own god was…dead.
Shock had set in. Wasn’t this what he wanted? Angel dead
and ash? So why then did he feel like…crying? Like howling to the moon in rage
and grief, finding those who had done this to his sire and destroying them with
his bare hands?
Willow was getting worried. Spike didn’t look at all well
and that wasn’t even including the fact that he had been implanted with some
kind of behavior modification chip and had basically starved for a week or two.
Slowly walking over to him, she crouched in front of him and asked, “Spike?
Spike, what’s wrong?”
The look in his bright blue eyes was desolate, bleak and
filled with more pain than she could ever remember seeing in his eyes. In
anyone’s eyes, really…it was more than Willow ever wanted to see again.
“Angel…he’s dead.” That was the only explanation
for the disappearance of him in Spike’s blood. The only thing that could have
happened to make that bond disappear would be the death of Angel.
Willow sucked in a quick breath. What had happened?
Everyone knew that Buffy had gone to LA on the pretence of seeing her absentee
father to confront Angel on his skulking methods of protecting her. So if she
was in LA and Angel had died…what had happened?
Grabbing Giles’ phone, she quickly dialed Cordelia’s
number. When her machine picked up, Willow slammed the phone down without
leaving a message. Thinking quickly, she dialed the number to the agency where
she knew Cordelia worked with Angel and someone else…Doyle, maybe? So
unimportant at the moment.
“Angel Investigations,” Cordelia’s bright voice
echoed over the phone and for a moment Willow wondered if her friend knew…
“Cordy, it’s Willow, is Angel alright?”
“Willow? Angel? Erm, why do you ask?” She had, not
three minutes ago, seen him disappear into his apartment with Buffy ostensibly
to ‘talk things through’ now that he was human. Still, she wasn’t willing
to tell anyone else his news no matter how good a friend and how much she was
bursting with this wonderful knowledge.
“Spike,” Willow said in a rush, panic beginning to set
in when she didn’t get a straight answer. “Spike said that Angel was dead,
IS HE OKAY? CORDELIA, WHERE’S BUFFY?” Calm no longer had any meaning to her.
“Willow!” Cordy shouted into the phone, trying to calm
the obviously distraught girl. “Willow, calm down! Angel’s fine. So is
Buffy. It’s just that…well…” Cordelia was caught between telling her
friend the great news about Angel’s new life – literally – and keeping it
a secret. It wasn’t hers to tell, after all.
“CORDELIA!”
“Okay, okay…he’s human.”
The silence on the other end of the phone gave Cordy pause.
“Willow?” Still no answer. “WILLOW?!”
She repeated a bit more urgently, wondering what had happened to her friend.
“Cordelia, are you still there?” Giles’ voice came
over the line, making Cordy wonder what exactly had happened to Willow.
“Giles is Willow alright?”
Giles looked over his shoulder at the girl now on the floor
where she had collapsed, wondering what had made her gasp in shock, sitting
stock-still but begin to hyperventilate. “What did you tell Willow, Cordelia?
Is everything okay with Buffy and Angel?”
“Er, well, yes?” She looked helplessly at Doyle as if
he had some of the answers.
“You don’t sound so sure, Cordelia.” And now he was
beginning to panic as well.
“They’re fine, Giles, really.” And she was nodding
frantically into the phone though no one but Doyle could see her.
“Everything’s just fine. They’re talking…” Though she highly doubted
that, she wasn’t about to tell anyone that they were probably having wild sex
before she told them that the curse was no longer an issue: some things just
needed to be told in the proper order after all.
“Angel and Buffy fought this demon and some of its blood
got into Angel and now he’s human.” She said it all in a rush in the hopes
of forestalling the inevitable thought that Angelus was back.
Again silence greeted her on the other end of the phone.
This was getting ridiculous. “Giles? Giles, are you there?”
“Y-y-yes, Cor-Cordelia, I, I’m here. Ah, um, did you
say…? Human?”
Rolling her eyes, Cordy nodded again. “Yes, human. As in
sunlight and heartbeat and crosses and eating and Buffy. Human.” If they couldn’t figure out what Buffy and Angel
were going to do now that he was literally alive, she certainly wasn’t going
to tell them.
“Ah. We’ll have to call you back Cordelia…” And he
hung up before he could think to change his mind which was currently awhirl.
Angel…human…Angel human…Angel human with no preposterous loophole in a
curse that should have been permanent in the first damn place.
Angel was human.
“Angel is human.” He said aloud for the benefit of
those who had not talked to Cordelia.
There was absolute silence in the room as everyone looked
from Giles to a still wide-eyed Willow who was shallowly breathing still on the
floor. Heads volleyed back and forth between the two, wondering if this was some
kind of joke because really, nothing like this had ever happened before and it
was entirely unheard of…
Even for them.
“Human?” Spike spoke first. “Impossible, watcher.
There’s no bloody way that a vampire can suddenly become human…” Right?
Swallowing once, trying to reign in his swirling thoughts,
Giles began to clean his glasses as he attempted to make sense of the recent
revelations. “Yes, well, apparently, Spike, that’s not entirely true…”
~~~~~~~
The Oracles looked at the scene before them, smiling though
they would never admit, other than to themselves, that what they saw before them
pleased them. It was true that they had told the warrior that what had happened
to him was not of the Power’s doing, and it wasn’t.
It was someone much higher than the Powers. It was Fate.
Love and Fate went hand in hand and this was no exception. The test, the real
test was to see if all passed without any outside interference. If that
happened, then all would be fixed. If it did not…
Then things would take a different path, would meander much
more slowly into chaos and pandemonium before coming out the way they had always
been foreseen.
So they watched as the warriors, the two most powerful
warriors for their side, consummated their love. No longer denying what always
was and always would be, no longer looking for escape clauses and ways around
things that were meant to be just because it was a little harder than it could
have been.
‘Privy to all the attendant pains and pleasures’
indeed.
~~~~~~~
It had been over two hours since Willow’s frantic phone
call asking whether Angel and Buffy were alright, still alive. Cordelia looked
at the plant before her and sighed again.
“Buffy gave it mites?” Doyle found that hard to
believe, but there was obviously more to it than Delia was letting on.
“How else do you explain it?” She sat beside him,
wondering where her life was going to go now.
“Jealously?”
“I’m jealous of her? Oh, please!?” But there was a
grain of truth there. Not in the ‘I’m jealous she has Angel’ way,
certainly not, Angel was more her brother than anything else. But in the
‘I’m jealous that she has a great love, that she knows what it’s like to
love with your whole being, whole heart, to know, absolutely that the one
you’re with is the only one you ever want to be with until time ends’
way…yeah, she was jealous.
Just as she and Doyle were getting ready to go to one of his favorite bars – the man had several it was kind of sad – the Sunnydale gang arrived. Introductions were made by Cordy who wasn’t exactly surprised that they had driven the two hours to confirm something as outlandish as this, though Spike’s appearance gave her pause for more than a moment.
Explanations were given and Cordy did a double take when she heard that Spike
was the reason they had called in the first place. Some weird Sire/Childe thing
that obviously only began to bother him after
he had tortured Angel.
“Look, they’re downstairs in Angel’s apartment,”
Her head jerked to the side as she said this. She didn’t elaborate, but
everyone knew what was going on down there. When no one made a move in that
direction she smiled. “Yeah, we were just about to go for drinks, care to join
us?”
And that was when everything went kaplooy.
As they all sat at the bar, one that didn’t care about
such legalities as ‘over 21’, Doyle had a vision. The demon wasn’t really
dead. He told everyone the vision then went back to the office to tell Angel,
leaving the rest of the gang at the bar, their reasoning simple: Angel and Buffy
had killed it once, or at least seriously injured it – how were they supposed
to know it would regenerate itself…though it did make Angel human…not the
point – they could do it again.
But Angel went off to fight it alone…well, he and Doyle
and really, what good could two humans – one former vampire human and a half
demon – no matter how well versed in battle techniques do against a much
stronger demon? Who was way angry at one of those humans? Buffy arrived and
killed it, but Angel was in bad shape…and not just physically.
Deciding that they only way to ensure Buffy’s survival
was to take away the one thing they had both wanted, Angel went back to the
Oracles.
“Doyle, I need to see the Oracles, I need to…make this
right.” Angel was still bruised and sore from his fight with the Mohra Demon
but that didn’t stop his determination.
“Right? Angel, man, are you sure? I mean what about the
slayer? What about you and the
slayer?” He could not allow his friend to renounce everything they had because
of one tiny incident with a superior force.
His friend got a faraway look in his eye, a slight smile
playing over his features. “Yes. I’m sure. If I’m like this then I can’t
protect her. I have to protect her, Doyle. She’s my everything and if
something were to happen to her because I couldn’t be there to help her…”
He trailed off but there was no need to finish the sentence.
Heaving a heavy sigh, Doyle nodded at the man he considered
a friend, his closest. “Okay, but I don’t like this.”
“Promise me, Doyle…promise me you won’t tell
Buffy.” There was a large part of Angel that wished his friend wouldn’t
agree, but Doyle only nodded, promising not to say a word…to the slayer.
Of course he was thinking how to get the slayer here to
stop the idiot of an ex-vampire before things went too far.
Doyle, knowing what his friend was doing and deciding that
it was a colossally stupid mistake, called Cordelia and told her to get the
slayer to the post office immediately. He’d explain everything later, but her
presence was required and it was required NOW. Just as Angel stepped back
through the portal to the Oracles’ inner sanctum, Buffy and Cordelia arrived.
“What? Doyle, what’s wrong? Did something happen to
Angel?” Buffy was out of breath, not just from the sprint from the car to
where Doyle stood, but out of fear that something had happened to her lover.
“Buffy, I don’t have time to explain, lass, just go
through the door when I tell ya to.” Doyle frantically began the spell once
more, at the last minute remembering that she needed a gift. Damn it, he
didn’t have anything. Well, the slayer was on her own.
“Doyle, what…?” She was about to argue, but suddenly
a door was visible and Doyle was literally pushing her through it.
“She’ll die? Then I’m here to beg for her life.”
Angel could feel his heart so newly alive, breaking. This was the only thing he
had ever wanted, to spend his life, short and mortal, in the arms of his love
and he was giving it all away.
“It is not our place to grant life or death.”
“And I ask that you take mine back.” He paused when
they turned back to look at him, surprise showing clearly on their otherworldly
faces. “Look, I can’t protect her or anyone this way, not as a man.” He
refused to acknowledge the tear that tracked down his cheek.
“You’re asking to be what you were a demon with a soul,
because of the slayer?”
“No!” Buffy’s voice sounded clear in the chamber,
echoing long after the acoustics should have allowed her protest to fade.
Walking forward she stopped in front of Angel. “What do you think you’re
doing?”
“Buffy, what are you doing here…?” His hand reached
out, automatically, to touch her face, so beloved and at the moment, so
incredibly angry.
“Doyle. Apparently your friend has more brains than you
do. I will not allow you to give this up for me. Angel, this is what you’ve
always wanted.”
Forgetting that they had an audience, and one that wasn’t
likely to take being ignored lightly, Angel gripped Buffy’s arms and said, his
voice breaking in time with his heart. “I can’t let anything happen to you,
I won’t. If it’s within my power to save your life, to see that you get to
live that life, than I’d gladly let you go.”
Buffy cupped his face with her hands, bringing him closer
to her. “Well I won’t.” Her voice was fierce and threatening but her eyes
held only love. “I love you and not only do I not
care if you’re human or a vampire with a soul, I won’t let you give up the
one thing that you’ve wanted for a
hundred years just for me.”
“You don’t get it, do you?! I love you, more than my
own life! I would die to protect you and if I have to, again, then that’s
exactly what I’m going to do!”
He turned back to the Oracles and said, “Yes, a vampire
with a soul; the Mohra Demon came to take a warrior from your cause and it
succeeded. I’m no good to you like this. I know you have it in your power to
make this right. Please…”
He refused to look at Buffy though she had walked up to his
side, grasping his hand tightly in hers, pleading with him not to do this.
Pleading with the Oracles not to do this.
“I can’t fight without him,” Buffy whispered though
all present heard her. “I can’t do it alone anymore…”
“What is done cannot be undone.” The male looked at the
sight before him and refused to show how their obvious love affected him. He
heard her plea – and the truth in it – clearly enough…and granted her
heart's desire.
Angel would not accept that but gripped Buffy’s hand all
the tighter. “There has to be a way, I can’t fight for you without my
strength, without my abilities as a vampire…” Why was he arguing so
vehemently for this; it wasn’t what he wanted.
What he wanted was to wake up with Buffy in his arms one
more day, always one more day until time ended. But if he did that then she’d
die before they could realize that dream.
“There is one way. But it is not to be taken lightly.”
Again the male spoke, as his sister looked on with something akin to…awe.
“We…transform you.” The woman said, turning back to
the teary-eyed couple. “You will be neither fully human nor fully demon. Your
soul will remain, your strength; you will be a mix allowing you to continue our
fight with your mate by your side.”
An odd glow went around Angel and he screamed, falling to
his knees and dragging Buffy, who still clutched his hand, with him. She shouted
his name but he barely heard her, so focused on the pain coursing through him.
Heaving great breaths that he did seem to need, Angel turned his head to Buffy
several long minutes later, smiling at her as he wrapped his arms around her
shaking form.
With a flash of light Buffy and Angel found themselves in
an ignominious heap back in front of the Post Office, all their friends gathered
around them each wearing identical expressions of concern and hope.
Buffy turned to her lover and wrapped her arms around him,
holding tightly as tears soaked his shirt. His heart still beat; she could feel
it, hear it. His skin wasn’t as cool as it once was but not as hot as it had
been the night before. She could live with it because, now, she could live with
him.
Angel buried his face in her hair, breathing the remembered
scent in as he comforted her, thus comforting himself as well. Whispering words
of love to her in both English and Gaelic, he held her until the group started
to get restless.
“Oh, bloody hell! Just tell us already.” This was from
Spike who knew that Angel wasn’t human, yet he could smell the humanity on
him, but didn’t know exactly what his Sire was now.
“Yeah, Spike’s right.” Cordelia agreed then frowned.
“Did those words just come out of my mouth?” Shuddering she continued,
“What happened in there?”
Slowly Angel and Buffy turned only their heads and looked
at their friends though made no move to pull apart. Turning to Doyle who was
looking anything but ashamed, Angel glared. “You weren’t supposed to tell
her.”
Doyle shrugged, “And I didn’t.” As his friend
continued to glare at him Doyle added, smile still firmly in place, “I told
Cordelia who then took it upon herself to inform the slayer.”
Buffy looked at her one time almost-friend and smiled. “Thank
you. I’m glad you did.”
Turning to the rest of the group, Buffy frowned. “Giles,
what are you guys doing here?”
Sighing, glad that everything was as it should be, though
he had no idea what that was; Giles took his glasses off and tried for brevity.
“It’s a long story, Buffy, but I think you have Spike to thank.”
The newly reunited couple turned to the vampire.
“Spike?” Angel growled – apparently that was something he hadn’t lost in
whatever transformation he had undergone. “Why Spike?”
Rolling his eyes the chipped vampire shook his head and
started to walk away. “You should know, Sire, blood always tells, but then you
always were a big Pouf.”
~~~~~~~~~
Later that night Buffy sat in Angel’s apartment, waiting
as he saw to everyone’s needs. Explanations had taken a while and Giles had
tried – and failed, which was a first – to find a reference of any kind on
Angel’s new hybrid status. The former watcher fully intended to go back to the
Oracles in the morning to ask some specifics, but decided it could wait.
She felt his presence drawing nearer a moment before she
heard his steps on the stairs. He looked…tired. More than tired, bone weary;
yet there was a presence to him that she had rarely seen before. It took Buffy a
moment to realize that it was hope. For the first time in too long he had
hope…because they were finally together.
“Everyone settled?” She asked crawling over his body
and stretching out on top of him as he lay prone on the bed, exhausted from the
day’s events.
“Yeah,” he said as his hands rested on her back,
cupping her ass, tracing patterns on her shoulders. “Willow and Anya…is
Xander actually dating her?” Buffy nodded as she peppered his chest with soft
kisses. “Are staying with Cordelia and Doyle is putting up Giles, Xander and
Spike; Cordelia refused to allow Xander and Anya together in her apartment.”
“And Spike?”
Buffy momentarily lost concentration as she unbuttoned his shirt, intent on
tasting more of his delicious skin.
“I figure he and Doyle will try to drink each other under
the table, Xander will ignore them both, and Giles can get some more of his
research done.”
“Ah,” Buffy acknowledged as she ran her hands under his
now opened shirt, pushing it as far off his shoulders as possible with him on
the bed. “That makes sense. And you?”
Angel smiled, shucking off his shirt and flipping them over
lightening quick; full vampire or not, he still had the speed. Attacking her
mouth with his, he whispered, “I figured we could test the bounds of my new
strength. See just how long the slayer and her human/demon lover can last.”
Breath hitching as his fingers played with her nipples,
Buffy managed to sagely nod. “It’s all about the stamina.”
Clothes were tossed aside in their haste for flesh on
flesh. Lips met again and again as hands roamed territory they could never and
would never have felt again had things turned out differently. Whispered words
of love and devotion caressed skin, nerves sang for their other half.
Angel entered her in one sure thrust, catching her cry with
his mouth as they began to move together, hips rocking in perfect rhythm, hands
clasped together, building higher and higher to the peak they craved only with
the other.
With a final shout of release, they exploded together,
their orgasms rushing through to the other, bathing them in a soft glow.
Angel nuzzled Buffy’s scar, tracing the raised flesh with
soft lips as he tried to control the breath he now needed. The mark that branded
her, absolutely, as his, in the demon community. Maybe it was time to brand her,
such as it was, in the human community as well…but there was time enough for
that, now that they had time together.
“I love you, Angel,” Buffy said as he rolled to the
side, bringing her with him, still inside her.
“And I you, my heart.”
They drifted off to sleep, content in their knowledge that
the other would be there in the morning and that nothing could ever separate
them again.
And discovered, throughout the night, that Angel’s
stamina was just as wonderful and resilient as it had always been.
***********
Six Weeks Later…
“This can’t be right…” Buffy trailed off and
counted again, ignoring the colored stick that also confirmed her suspicions.
No, it was right. As her count had been the past ten times. She was late. How
the hell could she be late? She was sleeping with a vampire; okay, a demon/human
hybrid, but that didn’t matter. It had been confirmed both by supernatural
means, scientific testing, and a nice long talk with the Oracles, that children
between the couple were quite the impossibility.
Vampires couldn’t have children.
So how the hell could her period be late?
“Angel?” Buffy tried to call to her lover but her voice
wasn’t working as it should. Trying again she managed a bit louder,
“Angel!” Okay, there was a slight hysterical edge to her voice but could
anyone really blame her?
Rushing into the bathroom Angel looked at her, sitting on
the edge of the bathtub. Well, thank God for supernatural Angel hearing, Buffy
thought when she heard him racing down the stairs.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Crossing the few steps to her,
Angel crouched down and took her trembling hands in his. He was so focused on
her that he didn’t notice the calendar on the floor beside her or the remains
of the box – now shredded – next to that.
“I think…I, I, I, I…think th-that I’m…” She was
stuck in a stuttering loop and couldn’t seem to find the word that would make
it stop. “Pregnant,” Buffy finally blurted. Then frowned; that wasn’t
nearly as hard to say as she had thought.
Smiling at the confused look on her lover’s face and
delighting in the fact that she could say it again, Buffy tugged Angel’s hands
over her still flat stomach. “I’m pregnant, Angel.”
Still Angel said nothing, though Buffy could see the look
in his eyes. Joy, happiness, bliss rolled through him in a thousand waves that
crashed together into one huge ball of wonder. “A baby?”
Buffy nodded and for a long awe filled moment they both
just looked at each other, grinning like fools because this was the one thing
that they never thought they’d have. The shout of joy that finally erupted
from both their throats echoed around the small apartment, chasing all the
shadows away.
Angel replaced his hands on her stomach with his head,
listening for any trace of his child’s life. Buffy tangled her hands in his
hair, loving the feel of it, loving the fact that she had been allowed to keep
this that it hadn’t been taken away from her. From them.
Cordelia and Doyle were upstairs in the office arguing over
the best way to kill a Votrtra Demon when they heard the shout. Cordy shrugged
and kept reading while Doyle narrowed his eyes and wondered what the noise was
all about.
“She probably surprised him with another set of
chains.” Cordelia snipped. Then softened and turned to her new lover, kissing
his lips and finishing reading the passage about the demon aloud.
Fifteen minutes later Willow, Xander, Anya, Giles, Spike,
and Wesley came back from their magickal supply shopping trip to find Cordy and
Doyle still wrapped around each other and reading about the Votrtra Demon.
Spike had agreed that he was needed now more than ever
since Angel was only half a vampire and had consented to stay on the side of
good. He didn’t like it most times, but it wasn’t all bad. And the group was
actively looking for a way to remove the blasted bloody US government chip from
his brain.
Wesley had returned with information on the commandoes
running amok in Sunnydale and together both sets of the team had put a stop to
Walsh’s crazy ‘Frankenstein’ plan before it went much farther. Buffy had
been a little upset to realize that Riley Finn, a man she had thought to be nice
and normal, was actually a member of the commandoes. But he and a couple of his
friends had risked their lives to destroy Walsh’s laboratory so she had
accepted his story and his friendship.
“I’m serious,” Spike said, hauling his share of bags
onto the counter just barely missing Cordelia’s mug of now cold coffee.
“Have you noticed how off she’s been acting? Something going on with the
slayer.”
Just then said slayer and her lover walked into the lobby hand in hand, matching foolish grins on their faces. The gang turned to look at them, confused.
”Oh, God,” Cordelia said, voicing the opinion of everyone present. Angel
with a big lopsided grin on his face was rare and couldn’t bode well. “Tell
me the end of the world isn’t coming, Doyle and I are going out tonight.”
Simultaneously Buffy and Angel shook their heads, still
wearing their smiles. “No end of the world,” Buffy laughed.
“We’re going to have a baby.” Angel said, his smile
widening even further.
There was dead silence in the room but even that couldn’t
dim the love and hope and joy on the proud parent’s to be faces. Suddenly
everyone erupted into shouts of congratulations and hugs and kisses and everyone
talking at once.
Cordelia and Willow immediately began planning a baby
shower and Doyle and Spike insisted on taking Angel out for a celebratory drink.
Giles, while more cautious, hugged Buffy and whispered his own words of sincere
congratulations before exchanging a look with Wesley and the silent agreement to
look into this further.
~~~~~~~~
“What about Liam?” Buffy asked, curled comfortably into
her new husband’s side as they tried to decide on a name for their child.
Their wedding had been an informal ceremony, but it had
everything either could have ever wanted: friends, family…and each other. And
the bright promise of a future.
The Oracles had told Giles – albeit reluctantly as if it
were a flaw even they could not overcome – that Angel couldn’t have children
and yet here she was, pregnant. It was Giles who speculated that this miracle
child was conceived during the day when Angel was completely human. The Oracles
had refused to say a word, simply stating that all was working out as it was
meant to.
‘Well,’ Angel had admitted, embarrassed, when Giles had
presented his theory to them. ‘It wasn’t like we used protection…’
Buffy turned to her lover, equally embarrassed. Trying to
justify their actions to a stern but obviously happy for them watcher, she had
said defensively, ‘What? It’s not like he could have had kids before…that
just wasn’t on my list of things to think about at the time…’
Buffy had gone to see Faith in the hospital, telling the
still unconscious slayer what had happened during the time she had been asleep.
No one was more surprised than Buffy when, right after Buffy had told her sister
slayer that she was pregnant, Faith’s machines began to whirl and beep with
signs of renewed life.
She had awoken, groggy and still angry, but not nearly as
much as when Buffy had stabbed her all those months ago. The frantic race to
rescue her from the council and clear her name with the police had taken the
efforts of all their gang but had brought them closer to the once fallen slayer.
It was odd, as Willow had pointed out, how much they all needed each other.
What was even odder, Cordelia had been the first to notice.
Spike and Faith; no one was prepared for that.
“Why Liam?” Angel asked, bringing his wife back to
their present discussion.
“Because that’s who you were before…before Darla.”
They were slowly talking about the past, theirs together and separately. There
was a lot Buffy didn’t know about Angel’s separate personalities and at
first Angel had been terrified that she wouldn’t want him any longer once she
knew. It hadn’t taken Buffy long to convince him that she loved all of him, no
matter what he had done in the past.
“Don’t you want to give the poor kid another name? One
not so…tainted?”
Covering his hands with hers as they molded her rounding
stomach Buffy shook her head. “No. I want this child to know his heritage, to
know that he’s loved and that he was named after people that his parents loved
and respected.”
“Okay, then,” Angel agreed, though frankly he would
have probably given her anything so long as she was with him.
In the end their child –
poor kid – was named after just about everyone
they loved: Liam Rupert Allen William Alexander Summers MacCullagh. MacCullagh
was Angel’s, or rather, Liam’s name before his change and with Willow’s
help, was the name Buffy had agreed to take when they married.
Liam had been born to Angel and Buffy MacCullagh August 1, 2000.
The world did not end.
The darkness did not spread.
The Hellmouth did not open.
It was a normal birth of a normal child. Or as normal as
one of their number could be.
Seven months later Faith gave birth to another miracle
child; Dawn Elizabeth Winstone was born March 15, 2001 to Faith and William
Winstone.
And still the world did not end.
Everyone considered that a minor miracle in and of itself:
Spike being a father? And the world not ending? Had to be a miracle.
***********
Twenty Years
Later…
“You’re sure that’s what you heard?” Buffy asked
the young man one more time, just to clarify though she believed him.
“Yes, Quinton said that he was to stop the battles and that nothing you or anyone did was going to change that. Actually, he was really dramatic about it, going off on none to sane a speech that made sense to only him. Waving his hands, spittle flying out his mouth; not a pretty sight. I think the last time you guys met really sent him over the edge.”
Liam looked from his mother to his father, each trying to
understand what had happened to a man neither had any love for but was,
ostensibly, on the same side as they. Several years ago Quinton Travers had lost
control of his armies when the Buffy and Angel arrived, taking control of
everything. He had been…less than pleased.
“Grandpa Giles said that Travers ‘lost his bloody
mind’ after the battle for the Vatican Holy Ground five years ago and no one
really followed him in the council since then. Oh, and Uncle Spike thinks that
Aunt Faith has successfully infiltrated Travers’ operations.”
“And Cordelia?” Cordy had been lost in battle several
weeks ago, captured by Travers as a bargaining tool. It wasn’t going to work,
but obviously the former watcher didn’t realize that.
“No word, but Uncle Doyle insists she’s still alive. I
think Aunt Faith’s first objective is to find her and get her out of there.”
“And Dawn?”
Liam smiled at the mention of his fiancé’s name but said smartly enough, “She’s working with Giles to control her magick.”
“Good, go and see what else needs to be done.” Angel
told his son, handing him the map Giles had asked for.
They watched as Liam walked out, back to the amassing
troops who were preparing to finish the battles today, no matter the cost.
Buffy looked to her husband and he nodded. “Looks like
it’s time, then. Is everyone ready?”
“Willow and Tara are working with Oz’s Pack, trying to
meld all their energy into one. We’re going to need it. Anya has persuaded a
few of the fringe vengeance demons that they could still practice their craft if
they helped us now. Apparently she has some sway there…or something, I have no
idea.”
“Good, okay, Gunn and his crew are ready to protect the
perimeter as we do the spell, and Wesley said that Doyle’s vision showed
Travers leading the charge himself.” Angel paused in his recap and shook his
head. “How the head of the Watcher’s Council came to be the leader of the
darkness, I’ll never know.”
“Greed, hatred, blindness. Travers always wanted things
done only his way and that was it. Remember when he wanted to take Liam? He
insisted that the slayer not have the child, that our precious son was going to
be evil and that only the council knew what to do.”
“But that’s over now, our friends pulled together to
stand against him; and again when Faith had Dawn. He has never been able to come
between us; no one has, so long as we’re together. I think what that Mohra
Demon meant all those years ago was more than you and I together being strong. I
think it meant all of us. That when we split the group we split out
effectiveness as well.”
Buffy smiled and stepped into his ever waiting arms. In the
years since they had first found their way back to each other things hadn’t
always been easy. But they hadn’t expected that, all they had ever wanted was
a chance to be together for whatever the world threw at them.
Buffy’s slayer powers had peaked then leveled off,
ensuring her continued strength even as she aged though she still looked
twenty-five not the forty Angel knew her to be. His own powers, derived from
both demon and human, had slowed his aging process as well. He could tell that
he was getting older, had actually found a gray hair the other night, but those
who didn’t know him, who hadn’t spent the last twenty years fighting with
him would never have been able to tell.
“Do you ever regret not having another child?” Angel
asked as he wrapped his arms around her slender waist from behind, resting his
had on her shoulder so they could look out at their friends and allies as
everyone readied for the coming battle. This was the last chance they’d get to
be alone and both planned on taking it.
“No, never. I got more than I ever hoped for; you, Liam,
a life I didn’t think I’d ever know.”
Angel turned her back around, crushing her lips under his.
“Ready to go find our friends and kick some watcher ass?”
“For that, I’m always ready?” Buffy asked as her lips
touched his one last time.
***********
He looked around at the shattered remains of his dream. How
had it come to this? Everything he had worked for, all he had believed in, all
that he wanted for this world. How had it all been reduced to a pile of rubble
no taller than a sapling?
He knew how and a growl of rage erupted from his withered
throat. Rage that had not waned an iota in years, rage that was directed at two
specific individuals and their close knit traitorous family. Their ‘family’
ha! Family was not a term he would use to describe that motley group; family
portrayed something that was missing from the assembly of people who had reduced
his world, his life’s work to nothing but…this.
He looked out at the vast landscape, the acres of grassy
knolls and thick virgin forests; untouched by time, protected by magick and
ignorance. They had taken all that away from him: turned his own family, those
who had stood by him for years, who had stood by the vision, the dream, for
centuries. Had turned those he considered trusted friends and allies against
him.
They would not get away with it. If he had to spend the
last years of his life, no matter who he had to make a deal with, no matter what
he had to do, he’d see that they paid for what they had done. All of them. And
then he’d see them in hell.
Slowly turning his back on what was once the center of his
existence, he walked away, never looking back at the debris his life’s work
had become. “I swear they’ll pay, if it’s the last thing I ever so.”
And the moment those words were out of his mouth, five men stepped before him: Rupert Giles, Wesley Whydem-Price, Allen Francis Doyle, Alexander Harris, William the Bloody, also known as Spike, Charles Gunn, Daniel ‘Oz’ Osborne.
Spike stepped forward first, still armed with every thing
he had been carrying during the battle. “We’re not going to let you do it,
mate.”
Gunn stood beside his vampire friend – and he still,
after all these years, couldn’t believe that he thought that. “Don’t do
it, Travers. Listen to the man here.”
“He’s not a man, he’s a filthy demon.” Quinton spat
at the group before him.
“He insults me! At least I didn’t switch sides because I want to be the one remembered for winning the final battles.” Spike growled back, holding his temper in check as much as possible. Which was difficult, all things considered.
Gunn looked his friend over. “Well, he does have a small point, Spike,” And
swiped at the purple gore that clung to the vampire’s arm. Whatever kind of
demon had purple blood, it was really hard to scrub clean.
Giles stepped forward as well, smiling a chilling grin that
would have scared Quinton had he been sane enough to realize the danger. “Be
that as it may, Quinton, he has fought beside us for years whereas you have
turned your back on all you claimed to hold dear.”
Doyle spoke now, “We know what you’re going to do,
Travers, and we’re here to stop you.”
“How, by killing an innocent human?”
“No,” Willow said, coming to stand beside the assembled
group. The rest of their family had joined them, Faith, Tara, Gunn, Anya
Harris, Cordelia Chase-Doyle, Buffy and Angel MacCullagh. Liam and Dawn who were
to be married this night.
“By killing a murdering traitor who thought only of himself instead of the world.” Tara finished her friend’s sentence.
“The real measure of a hero, Travers,” Faith said as
she maneuvered Cordelia to her waiting husband, “Is what they’re willing to
sacrifice. You weren’t willing to sacrifice anything.”
”No,” Buffy agreed, joining her family. “You wanted to sacrifice us in
order to see that you won. Do you have any idea what the world would be like now
if we weren’t all together?”
Not that any of them could conceive of what their lives
would be like otherwise, but the thought was chilling enough.
“And for that, Quinton,” Wesley said raising his
crossbow, “You have to die. Because the fate of the world depends on things
continuing the way they are.”
“They way they’re meant to always be.” Doyle added as
he, too raised his weapon.
Suddenly Quinton Travers found himself faced with his own
death. And didn’t have anything to say to that.
It was never discovered who actually fired the killing
shot, for Quinton Travers body was riddled with gunshot holes and crossbow
arrows. He died as the Stranger looked on from the trees, scowling fiercely at
his thwarted plan. Again. How was it that they always found a way to win? They
always foiled his plans; they always came out bright and victorious.
Damn them, it wasn’t supposed to be this way.
“Oh yes it is…” He heard whisper through the trees as the group – the family – before him turned without a word and went back to their camp to celebrate their final and most important victory.