"Home Before Dark "
Author: Deb Nockels
Email: Debnockels@aol.com
Disclaimer: Lyrics below are from the Broadway play Into The Woods
by Stephen Sondheim and James Lapine.
Notes: I decided to ignore that silly business with the demon ghost
thingy that Buffy brought back with her, because as far as I can see there's
no significance to it. So that whole day and night just didn't happen. When
Buffy wakes up the next morning, it will be to see Dawn off to school, as
per the episode "After Life."
Dedication: To Anja, my beta-reader, because she always has a word
of encouragement as well as help. You're the greatest!
Buffy slid her right foot over just a trifle. There. Now her weight was evenly distributed and she felt centered. Well, more centered at least. Now if only she could turn her mind off. It wasn't Angel's fault - or hers - that they hadn't been able to talk last night, but knowing that didn't help. First they'd played telephone tag, with Angel calling while she was gone (she'd taken Dawn out to dinner), then her returning his call only to discover he was out tying up the loose ends of a case and had forgotten to take his cell phone with him. Then he'd phoned again, but she was patrolling. When finally they had connected -
("You're a hard person to get hold of." Keep it light, not to sound accusing.)
(Angel's soft chuckle warmed her. "So are you. Busy patrol?")
("So-so," she answered. "Mostly I was dodging Gene Kelly wannabes.")
("Have you found out what's causing it all?)
("Giles has a lead on something; Tara calls it the Lord of the Dance demon." She chuckled. "Anyway, I don't think it'll be long before we get this sorted out.")
("Good." He paused. "Buffy - I'm having Wesley take over Cordelia's lessons.")
(Relief was followed instantly by guilt. She knew she shouldn't let her insecurities interrupt Cordelia's lessons, but the words just wouldn't come out. And how shameful was that?)
(He went on, "Gunn's also going to give a hand - he knows street-fighting techniques that I don't.")
(A soft "blip" on the line indicated Angel had another call coming in. He cursed softly, then excused himself to answer it. She waited. A minute later he was back.)
("Buffy, I have to go. That was Cordy. She's had a vision and it's a nasty one. I love you.")
("Love you -" Click. He'd hung up. " - too," she finished bleakly, and replaced the phone in its cradle)
"Buffy?" Giles recalled her attention.
Right. Forget last night and her irrational feeling that Cordelia had once more come between them, and concentrate on the task at hand. Buffy took a deep breath, focused on her goal - and struck.
*Crack!* The piece of wood between Giles' hands split evenly in two. "Good," Giles congratulated her. "Good."
Buffy smiled a little. "I feel like I should ... bow, or ... have honor or something."
He smiled in return. "It may seem hokey, but we need to work on precision and concentration as much as power." He walked over and tossed the pieces into a corner. "We're still not sure exactly what we're facing."
"Oh, you'll figure it out," Buffy assured him, putting one leg up on the horse and stretching. "I'm just worried this whole session's gonna turn into some training montage from an '80's movie."
Giles chuckled. "Ah. Well, if we hear any inspirational power chords, we'll just lie down until they go away." He picked up a towel. "Anyway, I don't think we need to work that much on your strength."
"Yeah, I'm pretty spry for a corpse." Jumping, Buffy did a handstand on the horse, hoping she hadn't sounded as bitter to Giles as she did to herself.
Apparently not. "Have you spoken to Dawn about that incident at Halloween?" Giles wanted to know.
Buffy let her feet fall to the ground and straightened up. "Sure." She frowned, stretching her arms over her head, then out to the sides. "But I didn't really know what to say to her that she didn't already know. I mean, I pointed out that she'd lied to me and she reminded me of all the times I'd lied to Mom about where I was, before she knew about me being the Slayer, of course."
"That's hardly the same thing," he objected.
"Of course not, and Dawn knows it." She sighed. "Then I reminded her that vampires look just like everyone else until they're in game face. She asked me if I expected her to throw holy water on everyone she meets, just to make sure."
"Sounds like Dawn." Giles smiled in spite of himself. "Sounds like a typical fifteen-year-old, actually - present company *not* excepted."
Ignoring his teasing, Buffy gazed at him pleadingly. "Giles, would you talk to her? Please?"
"Me?" Giles was taken aback. "Buffy, I'm hardly an expert on talking to teenagers. Mostly I just try to avoid them."
"But she respects you," Buffy told him. "I don't expect a miracle, but just maybe she'll listen to you better than to me."
"Why on earth do you think she'd pay more attention to what I say?" he asked.
"Because you're the closest thing to a father she's had in several years," Buffy said quietly. "Like I said, she respects you, but more than that she - " At the last second she substituted a different word. " - likes you."
Even more disconcerted, Giles stammered. "Er ... well, I - I guess I could - um - give it a try." He was still dubious, and a little embarrassed by Buffy's disclosure, but he had to admit to himself that there was also more than a tinge of pleasure in there. He'd always been fond of Dawn - when he wasn't wanting to wring her neck - and was pleased to know that his paternal feelings for her were reciprocated.
Buffy smiled gratefully. "Thanks. What would I do without you?" As he turned to walk to the weapons case, she added, softly, "Giles. Not wanting to get all emotional on you here, but - I feel the same way. Just in case you didn't already know that." To spare him further embarrassment, she turned away and resumed her stretching exercises.
Giles watched her for a moment with a troubled look, then slowly went over to the display case on the wall. He unlocked the glass door and stared blankly at the weapons inside, deep in thought.
"Okay. I'm ready." Buffy took up her stance, rolling her shoulders to loosen them.
Unhearing, Giles sang, softly:
"You're not ready for the world outside
You keep pretending, but you just can't hide"
Buffy stared at his back, not wanting to believe she'd heard right. Giles selected a knife from the case and stood turning it over in his hand.
"Just as I promised, I am standing by your side
But I ..."
He shook his head a little.
"Your path's unbeaten and it's all uphill
And you can meet it, if you only will
But what's the reason that you're standing still?"
Buffy caught her breath. The pain in his voice... .
"But I ... "
Giles sighed, and his shoulders slumped.
"I wish I could say the right words
To lead you through this land.
I'd love to play the father
And take you by the hand
I want so much to help you
But I don't understand
What's standing in the way"
"No." The whisper came involuntarily from her lips. She had thought she'd successfully hidden her bouts of depression and the growing sense of alienation, but apparently Giles had noticed. Her heart sank. Had everyone seen it? Were they all talking about her behind her back, wondering what was wrong with her?
Giles started, coming out of his musical soliloquy. He jerked around. "Buffy - I - you heard that?"
Buffy said, "I'm standing right here; of course I heard it. What did it mean?"
He hesitated, unsure how to begin. "I've noticed a - a change in you since you returned, especially in the last couple of weeks."
She looked away "Yeah, I've noticed it too. But - you know, dying? And then being brought back to life - that could do that to a girl, don't you think?"
Before Giles could reply, Anya came rushing in, leaving the door wide open. "Giles! Someone sold the last eye of newt and didn't tell me, so now we're out and someone wants to buy two dozen of them and doesn't want to wait the five days it'll take to get them!"
"Anya, I'm a little busy here," Giles snapped. "Ask for express delivery on the order."
Anya planted her hands on her hips and glared at him. "That *is* with express delivery! Giles, this is a hundred-dollar sale and I don't want to lose it! Do you know of another source that could ship some faster?"
Behind Anya's back Buffy caught a glimpse of Tara. It looked as though she was trying to avoid being seen by Willow, who was walking over to one side of the store. Frowning (and glad of the distraction), Buffy watched her quietly climb the stairs to the loft.
Tara found the book she wanted and began paging through it. About a third of the way through she stopped and held the herb in her hand next to the illustration. They were a perfect match. "Lethe's Bramble," she read silently. "Used for augmenting spells of forgetting and mind control." Tears slipped down her cheeks as she sank back on her heels..
"I'm under your spell
God, how can this be?
Playing with my memory"
She went to the edge of the loft and looked down. Willow was over by the counter now.
"You know I've been through hell
Willow, don't you see?
There'll be nothing left of me"
Buffy emerged from the back room and began talking to Willow. Tara continued:
"I don't want to go"
And it'll grieve me 'cause I love you so
But we both know"
"Wish I could trust that it was just this once
But I must do what I must
I can't adjust to this disgust
We're done, and I just - "
Still singing quietly, she started down the stairs.
"Wish I could stay
Wish I could stay"
She walked toward the front of the store, ending up alongside Giles, who'd also come out of the training room and was watching Buffy with concern.
"Wish I could stay
Wish I could stay ..."
Tara held the last note for a second, then let it fade off, wondering if hearts could actually break from that much pain. Suddenly the front door burst open and Spike stalked into the magic shop, dragging a demon with a big, mask-like head along with him. Everyone turned. "Lookie-lookie what I found," he called out.
"Is - is this the demon guy?" Tara asked.
Hearing her voice, Willow turned around and smiled happily. "Tara!"
Tara ignored her. Smile fading, Willow gave her a questioning look which she pretended not to see. Xander and Anya emerged from the back.
"Works for him," Spike announced. "Has a nice little story for the Slayer, don't you? Come on, then." He shoved the demon further into the room. "Sing!"
The now-familiar background music began playing dramatically. Buffy steeled herself for another big musical number. The music swelled to a crescendo, then:
The demon spoke, in a normal, rather high-pitched voice. "My master has the Slayer's sister hostage at the Bronze because she summoned him and at midnight he's going to take her to the underworld to be his queen."
"What does he want?" demanded Giles.
The demon gestured toward Buffy. "Her."
Spike snorted. "If that's all you've got to say, then - " He tried to grab the minion but he broke free and ran outside. "Strong," he remarked, surprised. "Someday he'll be a real boy."
"So," Buffy sighed. "Dawn's in trouble. Must be Tuesday."
Guilt-stricken, Tara stammered, "I - I just left her for a few minutes."
"Oh, it's not your fault," Buffy assured her, then looked at the others. "So what's the plan?"
"Plan, schman," said Xander. "Let's mount up."
"No." It was Giles. All eyes turned toward him.
Anya spoke. "Uh, Dawn may have had the wrong idea in summoning this creature, but I've seen some of these underworld child bride deals and, and they never end well. Well, maybe once."
"We're not just going to stay here," Willow protested.
"Yes, we are." Giles looked at Buffy. "Buffy's going alone." Buffy stared at him, stunned.
"Gah!" Spike scoffed, disgusted. "Don't be a stupid git. There is no - "
Giles said evenly, "If I want your opinion, Spike, I'll - " He paused, considering. "I'll never want your opinion."
Willow offered, "A little confusion spell could - "
"No!" Tara hadn't mean to snap like that. At Willow's shocked and hurt gaze, she averted her eyes again and modulated her voice. "I mean, I don't think it'll help."
Spike turned to Buffy. "Look, forget them, Slayer. I've got your back."
Buffy didn't reply. She was still staring at Giles, unable to believe what he'd said.
"Buffy?" Spike cocked his head and gestured toward the door. Buffy shook her head and he stared at her for a moment. Then anger swept over his face. "Fine," he declared in a cold, biting voice. "I hope you dance til you burn. You *and* the Little Bit." Coat-ends flapping, he swept out of the store.
Buffy hardly noticed. "You're really not coming," she said to Giles. He walked over to her. "It's up to you, Buffy."
(Up to me? But ... ) That hollow feeling began again. "What do you expect me to do?"
"Your best," he said simply, "just as you've always done."
She swallowed. "But you've always helped me before. All of you have." Her gaze swept the others, then returned to Giles. "You've always told me that having the team behind me was one of my strengths. Now all of a sudden you're insisting I go it alone?"
Giles reached out. His hands were warm on her shoulders. "The Scoobies are unique in Slayer history, and I do believe they've been a contributing factor to your amazing success rate. But lately I think you've begun relying on them - on *us* - too much. You've lost ... something - an edge - you used to have."
Out of the corner of her eye Buffy saw Xander open his mouth as if to say something, but whatever it was went unsaid as he changed his mind. Dropping his hands to his sides, Giles went on, "For your own sake, Buffy, you need to do this without us. And you can do it; I have no doubt of that."
He really meant it; he was going to make her face this demon all on her own. Buffy had a sudden flashback to her first week at college when, overwhelmed with trying to cope with college life when she was still aching from losing Angel, she'd gone to Giles for help with a vampire situation she'd discovered on campus. She could still see him, standing there in his bathrobe in the middle of the morning; could still hear his voice as he refused her:
("Officially you no longer have a Watcher. Buffy, you know I'll always be here when you need me. Your safety is more important to me than anything, but you're going to have to take care of yourself. You're out of school and I can't always be there to guide you.")
Numbly, Buffy turned and left, leaving a group of equally stunned friends behind her. For several moments after the door swung shut, no one said a word. Xander finally spoke up. "Giles - if what we talked about earlier is true, she may *not* be able to handle this alone."
Giles threw him a sharp glance, then looked away. Moving over behind the counter, he busied himself with the receipts. The others exchanged uncertain, confused looks, then slowly drifted back to whatever they'd been doing before.
The narrow side street was dark, except for the glow from burning trash cans. From the shadow of an abandoned building, Buffy watched a group dancing around one set of flames. Their dance was aggressive - angry, even. It must be nice to feel something besides emptiness, she thought. As they subsided and began to drift away, she slowly walked up to the can and held her hand out to the fire. Quietly, she began to sing:
"I touch the fire and it freezes me
I look into it and it's black
Why can't I feel?"
She looked at her hand.
"My skin should crack and peel"
Her head came up and she stared into the night, feeling desolate.
"I want the fire back."
Inside The Bronze, Master Sweet shoved Dawn into a chair, then sat in the remaining one beside her, smiling in anticipation. Gazing at the red-skinned demon fearfully, Dawn swallowed and hoped Buffy would rescue her soon. The puppet-headed demons that had captured her had only been his minions, she'd discovered. Maybe it hadn't been such a smart idea after all, letting him know that her sister was the Slayer, but when he'd announced during their weird song and dance number that she'd summoned him (which she totally hadn't) and he was taking her to his dimension to be his bride, she'd panicked and blurted it out. She'd hoped he would think twice about angering the Slayer, and would let her go. Instead, he'd been pleased and had sent his henchmen to bring Buffy to him - to see her burn, he'd said. Dawn swallowed again.
Smoke swirled upward, blurring Buffy's vision. She blinked.
"Now through the smoke, she calls to me
To make my way across the flame
To save the day
Or maybe melt away
I guess it's all the same"
Abruptly she turned away and started walking.
So I will walk through the fire
'Cause where else can I turn?
I will walk through the fire
And let it - "
Spike drew hard on his cigarette, glaring at the alley around him. He was still fuming over Buffy's treatment of him. How dared she treat him the way she had, telling him to leave Sunnyhell for his own good, as if he was a bleeding child? How dared she spurn his offer to help like that? It would serve her right if he *did* leave!
"The torch I bear is scorching me
Buffy's laughing, I've no doubt
I hope she fries
I'm free if that bitch dies!"
At the thought a pang went through him. Angrily he tossed the cigarette onto the ground, then jumped up.
"I better help her out."
He began walking.
"'Cause she is drawn to the fire
She will never learn
And she will walk through the fire
And let it - "
Tara avoided looking at Willow, as she had since her awful discovery. After a couple of attempts to find out what was wrong, Willow had desisted. Now she sat silently on the opposite side of the table, pointedly looking anywhere but at Tara. Behind the counter, a worried Giles had given up all pretense of attending to business.
"Will this do a thing to change her?" he sang.
"Am I leaving Dawn in danger?
Does my Slayer know how much I care?"
Xander came over and sang:
"What if Buffy can't defeat it?"
Anya joined them, adding her musical two-cents' worth:
"Beady Eyes is right, we're needed!
Or we could just sit around and glare"
She glanced over her shoulder at the table. Suddenly Giles knew what he had to do. He came out from behind the counter, Xander and Anya falling in beside him, and caught Willow's and Tara's eyes. Immediately the two girls got to their feet and followed him out the door. Together they sang:
"We'll see it through
It's what we're always here to do
So we will walk through the fire"
Buffy found herself striding through another deserted alley.
"So one by one, they turn from me
I guess my friends can't face the cold
But why I froze, not one among them knows
And never can be told"
Back at The Bronze, Sweet suddenly leaned forward, his eyes gleaming redly. Dawn involuntarily shrank back in her chair. He began singing:
"So one by one they turn to me
The distant redness as their guide
That single flame
Ain't what they had in mind.
It's what they have inside"
Buffy sang:
"Going through the motions
Walking through the part"
"These endless days are
Finally ending in a blaze"
Sweet laughed softly, rubbing his hands in glee.
"She will come to me"
United in a single purpose, from their different locations they walked, singing - Buffy, Willow, Xander, Anya, Giles, Tara, and Spike:
"And we are caught in the fire
The point of no return
So we will walk through the fire"
A fire engine rolled past the Scooby Gang, its lights flashing. They ignored it.
"And let it
Burn ...
Let it burn ..."
Utterly intent on his purpose, Spike jumped over a fence, and was nonplussed to find himself in a dead-end alley. He leaped back over the fence and gazed around, frowning, trying to get his bearings.
"Let it burn ...
Let it burn!"
The door to The Bronze gave way with one savage kick, sailing onto the floor with a loud, satisfying crash. Peering through the haze of splinters and dust, Buffy strode inside and found the ones she was looking for. One glance at Dawn was enough to reassure her that her sister, although frightened, was all right, so she turned her attention to the scarlet-skinned, white-goateed demon sitting in the chair next to her.
"Showtime!" Master Sweet proclaimed, then chuckled. "I love a good entrance!"
"How are you with death scenes?" Buffy asked.
Sweet just laughed, obviously not impressed. Buffy walked a little closer. "You got a name?"
The demon gestured. "I've got a hundred."
Leaning against the pool table, she said, "Well, I ought to know what to call you if you're going be my brother-in-law."
Dawn sat forward with a jerk. "Buffy, I swear I didn't do it!"
Buffy didn't really care if Dawn had summoned the demon or not. Giving her a reassuring glance, she said, "Don't worry. You're not going anywhere." Master Sweet looked at her and she added, "I am."
"What?" gasped Dawn. A flicker of interest crossed the demon's scarlet face. He leaned toward Buffy. She told him, "The deal's this. If I can't kill you, you take me to Hellsville in her place." Dawn's mouth fell open. "No," she whispered, but was ignored.
"What if I kill you?" Master Sweet asked smoothly
Buffy almost felt like laughing. Almost. "Trust me. It won't help."
Master Sweet rolled his eyes. "Well, that's gloomy!"
"That's life," she bleakly corrected.
Sweet gave her a provocative, mocking smile. "Come now, is that really what you feel? Isn't life a miraculous thing?"
Buffy hadn't taken her eyes off him since issuing her deal. "I think you already know." Soft, ballad-like music began playing somewhere. Following her cue, she sang:
"Life's a show
And we all play our parts
And when the music starts
We open up our hearts"
Unsnapping her coat, she let it drop to the floor and glided forward, swaying to the slow rhythm of the song. She glanced to her right, where two of Sweet's minions were grabbing pool cues from the rack.
"It's all right
If some things come out wrong
We'll sing a happy song
And you can sing along"
The music changed to a harsh, hard-rock tune with a driving beat. The minions rushed Buffy.
"Where there's life - "
She grabbed the pool cue from one minion and hit him with it.
"There's hope.
Every day's - "
The second minion got her elbow in his face.
"A gift.
Wishes can - "
She kicked the first minion -
"Come true.
Whistle while - "
- and followed it with a punch -
"You work - "
and a blow with the pool cue, then another -
"So hard - "
- and another. And one more. With the last blow the demon fell, and lay motionless.
"All day - "
She thrust the cue behind her, impaling the second minion, who silently dropped to the ground. The original melody returned.
"To be like other girls -"
Giles, Anya, Xander, Willow, and Tara ran in. Giles took in the situation at a glance. Buffy continued singing while Sweet watched her every move with narrowed eyes,
"To fit in, in this glittering world.
Don't give me songs."
"She needs backup," Giles declared. "Anya, Tara." He gestured toward Buffy.
"Don't give me songs," Buffy sang again. Anya and Tara took up positions behind Buffy and synchronized their movements with hers.
"Give me something to sing about"
Buffy was vaguely aware of the girls behind her providing a background chorus of soft "Ahhh"s.
"I need something to sing about"
The hard-rock music returned for a minute and they danced to its frenetic beat, then it slowed again and they resumed their languid dance movements.
"Life's a song
You don't get to rehearse.
And every single verse
Can make it that much worse"
Anya and Tara stopped dancing and moved to the background. Buffy glanced briefly at them.
"Still my friends
Don't know why I ignore
The million things or more
I should be dancing for"
Giles frowned slightly. Again the hard-rock beat was heard, but this time Buffy danced alone.
"All the joy
Life sends
Family
And friends"
"All the twists
And bends
Knowing that
It ends"
Well, that
Depends - "
"On if they let you go - "
Giles caught his breath at the bitterness in her eyes. Buffy's gaze swept the gang once more.
"On if they know enough to know
That when you've bowed
You leave the crowd"
She walked up onto the stage. Sweet, still sitting in his chair, made a theatrical gesture of beckoning her toward him. Buffy went up close. A new melody began playing, slow and full of minor notes that grated on the ear. She sang quietly, lost in the memory:
"There was no pain
No fear, no doubt
Til they pulled me out
Of Heaven ..."
Her gaze returned to her friends. Giles looked as if someone had just stabbed him. Xander just looked sick. Anya's face was unusually solemn; Tara's, distressed. Willow's eyes were wide and shocked.
"So that's my refrain:
I live in Hell
'Cause I've been expelled
From Heaven"
"I think I was in Heaven... ."
Willow's disbelief had turned to horror. Her head moved from side to side in an unconscious attempt to deny the truth.
"So give me something to sing about!"
Buffy whirled around to look at Sweet.
"Please
Give me something ... !"
Slowly the demon shook his head. Suddenly desperate, Buffy turned away and did a flip off the stage onto the floor. The hard-rock tune returned once more, with the electric guitars playing a wild riff. Buffy danced, her moves becoming faster and faster. From her chair Dawn watched in dismay. Sweet leaned forward expectantly, lips parted and breath quickened with anticipation.
Buffy whirled wildly around - and around - and around. Smoke began to rise from her body and she could feel the heat building, but she couldn't stop. She didn't *want* to stop. All at once two cool hands grabbed her arms, stopping her death-spin. Panting and disoriented, she looked up. It was Angel. His eyes were filled with compassion and understanding - and love. He sang:
"Life's not a song
Life isn't bliss
Life is just this:
It's living."
His hand brushed damp strands of hair back from her face. Spike rushed in through the open doorway. He saw the two of them and stopped dead in his tracks. His jaw tightened. Angel went on:
"You'll get along
The pain that you feel
You only can heal
By living."
Buffy wanted to cry. How could she live when she felt half-dead, when a part of her seemed to have gone AWOL? When the one person who made it bearable lived over two hours away and risked losing his soul if they got too close?
"You have to go on living
So one of us is living."
Standing up, Dawn walked to the edge of the stage. " 'The hardest thing in this world is to live in it.' " Buffy recognized the words she'd said to Dawn just before jumping into Glory's portal. Dawn was pale, obviously upset. Buffy looked back at Angel but before she could say anything, the melody changed. Even in the depths of her misery, Buffy noticed that Angel's singing voice was even worse than Xander's and Willow's.
"What can't we face if we're together?
What's in this place that we can't weather?"
Master Sweet grimaced and waved his hand, muttering to himself. Instantly Angel's voice changed. It was still his voice, but with the rough edges smoothed out - and now he was singing *in* tune. Sweet breathed a silent sigh of relief and sank back in his chair to listen.
"Loneliness?
We both live there
Danger, distress?
The risks that we share."
"What can't we do, what can't we weather?
We'll work it through 'cause we're together"
"But we're not together," she whispered bleakly. His hands cupped her face; his dark eyes were intent. "We will be," he told her. "We'll find a way, Buffy."
"How?" Buffy's tears spilled over and she wiped them away with a childish gesture.
"I don't know how," Angel answered, simply. " - yet. But there's got to be a way around the curse and I promise I'll find it." Looking into his eyes, she believed him. Angel leaned down and kissed her, softly, firmly, and the vise around her heart eased its iron grip, letting her breathe freely for the first time in what felt like years. Predictably, she burst into tears again.
'I'm sorry," she said, when she could speak. "I've just felt so ... alone. And now I don't because you're here but you'll be leaving again soon, and -."
"I know." Angel brushed a tear away with his thumb. "But even when we're apart, you're not alone, Buffy. You have Dawn and you have your friends and Giles, all of whom love you very much. They wouldn't have done it otherwise."
No need to ask what "it" was. When they resurrected her, her friends had honestly believed they were rescuing her from unspeakable torment in a hell dimension. They'd had no way of knowing that they'd be yanking her out of heaven instead.
"I know," Buffy whispered. "But - "
Angel sang softly:
"Mother cannot guide you
Now you're on your own.
''m right here beside you
Know you're not alone."
"No one is alone - truly
No one is alone."
"Sometimes people leave you
Halfway through the wood.
Others may deceive you
You decide what's good"
"You decide alone"
But no one is alone - "
Buffy's lips trembled. "I wish ..."
"I know," Angel murmured, kissing her forehead. Buffy sang in a shaky voice:
"Mother isn't here now - "
(Angel) "Wrong things, right things - "
(Buffy) "Don''t know what she'd say."
(Angel: "Who can say what's true?"
(Buffy) "Nothing's quite so clear now - "
(Angel) "Do things, fight things"
(Buffy) "Feel I've lost my way."
(Angel: "You decide, but - "
Giles walked over, finishing the line: "You are not alone - "
(Angel) "You are not alone - "
(Giles): "Believe me - "
(Angel): "No one is alone - "
(Giles, overlapping): "No one is alone - "
(Angel): "Believe me - "
(Giles): "Truly ..."
Their voices came together:
"You move just a finger,
Say the slightest word,
Something's bound to linger,
Be heard."
(Giles): "No one acts alone.
Careful, no one is alone - "
(Together): "People make mistakes - "
(Giles): "Friends and - "
"Lovers." Angel gave Buffy a wry look.
"People make mistakes - "
(Giles, overlapping): "People make mistakes"
(Angel): "Holding to their own,
Thinking they're alone.
Honor their mistakes - "
(Giles, overlapping): "Fight for their mistakes -"
(Angel): "Everybody makes - "
Again their voices harmonized:
"One another's
Terrible mistakes."
"Witches can be right - "
Buffy glanced at the Scoobies, in particular Willow, who wasn't responding to Tara's attempts at comfort. Angel and Giles followed her glance, and continued singing:
"Demons can be good.
You decide what's right,
You decide what's good."
Angel gently urged her attention back.
"Just remember - "
Buffy echoed his words quietly, with growing realization:
"Just remember - "
(Angel): "Someone is on your side"
"My side, " Buffy sang, with wonder. She looked at Angel and together they sang:
"Our side
Someone else is not."
Spike, who'd been listening to everything with increasing scorn, caught the glance Angel gave him. His lips curled back from his teeth, and he started forward. Instantly Xander blocked his path. "This isn't the time or the place," the young man said very quietly but very firmly. Spike glared at him, itching to sink his teeth into his neck, or at the very least smash his fist into that smug face. Opting for the least painful course of action - physically, at least - the vampire snarled soundlessly, then wheeled around and stalked out. Meanwhile, Buffy and Angel kept singing:
"While we're seeing our side - "
Giles and Dawn joined them:
"Our side - "
The Scoobies, with the exception of Willow, chimed in:
"Our side - "
(Together): "Maybe we forgot:
They are not alone.
No one is alone."
Buffy took a deep breath:
"I can see the light now"
Angel stroked her cheek compassionately:
"Just don't let it go."
Buffy knew he meant after he returned to L.A., when the comfort his presence provided would diminish - as it inevitably would. He continued:
"We can make it so." Buffy desperately hoped she was right about that - that her feeling everything would work out wasn't just an illusion, brought about by having Angel here.
They looked into each other's eyes.
"I'm always on your side
You are not alone."
"I love you," Angel whispered. "I've never loved anyone but you."
"I love you too." They kissed again, until they were interrupted by the sound of applause. It was Master Sweet. "Now that was a show-stopping number, even if it wasn't quite the fireworks I was looking for."
Willow stepped toward him, trembling, her eyes stormy. "Get out of here."
Sweet raised an eyebrow. "Hmm, I smell power." He got to his feet. "I guess the little missus and I should be on our way." Eyes widening once more, Dawn backed away from him, jumping down off the stage and running to Buffy and Angel.
Giles roused himself from the shock that Buffy's disclosure had induced. "That's never going to happen.".
The demon chuckled. "I don't make the rules. She summoned me."
"I so did not!" Dawn cried. She turned to the others. "He keeps saying that, but I didn't!"
Sweet followed her off the stage. Buffy stepped protectively in front of her, and he chuckled. "You have my talisman on, sweet thing." He leaned around Buffy to point at the necklace Dawn had on. She glanced down at it, then held it up, stammering, "Oh, but ... no, I, uh, this was, at, at the Magic Box, on the floor ... I was, I was cleaning, and I ... I put it in my pocket to, to ask about it, except I - I forgot to, but ... I didn't summon anything!"
"Well now, that's a twist," commented Sweet drily.
Giles said, "If it was in the shop, then one of us probably. ..." They all looked at each other. After a moment, Xander guiltily raised his hand. Anya gasped. "Xander!"
"Well, I didn't know what was gonna happen!," Xander said defensively. Giles held back his temper with a visible effort. "I just thought there would be dances and songs." He looked at Anya. "I just wanted to make sure we'd. . . we'd work out. Get a happy ending."
Master Sweet chortled. "I think everything worked out just fine."
Xander looked at him apprehensively. "Does this mean that I have to - " He swallowed. " - be your queen?" Anya grasped his arm protectively, looking anxious.
"It's tempting ... " Sweet drawled, eyeing him. "But I think we'll waive that clause just this once." Xander sagged with relief. Sweet looked sardonically at the group. "Big smiles, everyone! You beat the bad guy." He did a fast pirouette and began singing:
"What a lot of fun
You guys have been real swell
And there's only one
Who can say this ended well"
His eyes flickered over Buffy, standing with Angel's arm around her.
"All those secrets you've been concealing
Say you're happy now,
Once more with feeling.
Now I gotta run
See you all - "
Suddenly there was no more Sweet, only a ball of light that swirled around their heads, trailing sparkly particles behind it. As they watched it disappear through the ceiling his voice echoed:
" - in he-e-e-ll!"
For a few moments there was only silence, during which everyone except Angel and Buffy carefully avoided each other's eyes. Then Giles went over to Buffy. Angel stepped away, and without saying a word Giles enfolded her in a tight embrace. Surprised at first, for he was never physically demonstrative, Buffy relaxed and allowed his love to wash over her, along with his dismay/regret/anger/grief over what had happened to her when called back to this world. Tears sprang up, and when finally his arms loosened and she was able to raise her head she saw that his eyes were also wet.
Giles raised his hands to her shoulders. "A lot of things are suddenly much clearer now. Why didn't you tell me?"
Buffy whispered, "I couldn't. You were already angry at Willow; I didn't want to make things worse. Besides, there was nothing you could do about it."
The expression in her eyes almost broke his heart. Giles kissed the top of her head, giving himself time to master his emotions; then he cleared his throat. "More than you think, perhaps. But before I go into that - "
He stepped away and turned, his gaze sweeping the others. "I, er, hadn't planned on doing this right now, but given the revelations we've heard tonight - " He cleared his throat again. " - frankly, I can't think of a better time to make my point." Angel resumed his place next to Buffy, who smiled at him and moved closer. Their hands clasped.
"Uh, what point is that?" Xander asked nervously. Willow remained silent.
Giles shot him a stern look. "That magic is not something to play around with. After that fiasco a few years ago with Amy and the love spell, I wouldn't have thought you'd need to be reminded of that again, but obviously I was wrong."
Xander looked down at the floor, but didn't respond. What could he say, after all? It was true. Willow stood hunched over her folded arms, misery evident in every line of her body. Buffy couldn't see her face because she'd turned slightly away from them, isolating herself, but she had no doubt what she'd see there. Tara moved closer, protectively, apparently forgetting whatever it was that had upset her earlier, but Willow paid no attention.
"Magic is not a toy, Xander; it's an incredibly powerful force," Giles continued.
"I know that!" protested Xander. "And I'm sorry. But I didn't know the amulet had this big hairy magic in it! Like I said, I thought it was just a simple little spell, something that would make us feel good."
"No, you *didn't* think," Giles said grimly. "You *assumed* - and because of that four people are dead." The blood drained from Xander's face.
"That's not fair," Dawn protested. "He didn't mean - "
Xander interrupted her. "Giles is right," he said flatly. "Fair has nothing to do with it. If it wasn't for what I did, those four people would be alive right now." He paused. "Well ... maybe. I mean, *probably* the odds would have been in their favor."
Dawn started to say something else, but Buffy touched her arm and shook her head. She didn't like what Giles was doing, but she knew it was necessary. Xander had been incredibly careless; she could hardly believe he'd done something so foolish. Dawn glared at her, then looked at Xander's set expression. Her eyes dropped and she subsided, biting her lip.
Giles' voice softened. "I'm sorry to be so harsh, Xander, but I must make you understand. I know you didn't realize what would happen when you invoked the amulet, and if you *had* known you would never have done it, but that's not the point. When it comes to magic you're like a child playing with matches, with no real understanding of the inherent risks. Magic can be extremely dangerous even for those who have studied and practiced it for many years, which you certainly have not. I want you to promise me you won't try anything like this again."
"Don't worry," Xander said quietly. "I've learned my lesson this time. From now on magic and me are like oil and vinegar - there's no mixage. I'm just sorry that others had to pay the price for my stupidity." He clenched his jaw, hard.
"Thank you." Giles looked over at Willow. He hesitated, then went to her. "Willow." His voice was gentle, but the stricken witch didn't look up.
"You don't have to say it." Her voice was even tighter than Xander's had been. "I was so sure. I thought I had it all figured out. It was a hell portal that killed Buffy, so she must have ended up in hell. Stupid. Stupid and conceited." Willow did raise her head then, but instead of the tears Buffy had expected, her face was haggard and full of self-loathing.
"If it hadn't been for my arrogant meddling, Buffy would still be at peace in heaven where she deserves to be. But I yanked her out of that, back to this world where she has to fight demons and other monsters and risk her life every day."
Tara made a protesting sound. Xander stepped forward. " *We* yanked her back, all of us. It wasn't just you, Will." Surprisingly, Anya seconded that.
Willow glanced at them. "It was my idea. I was the instigator. You all had reservations about it, especially you, Tara, but I bullied all of you into going along with it." Her attention returned to Giles. "There's nothing you can say to me that I haven't already said to myself."
Giles said quietly, "I'm afraid there's more to it than that. You talked about being stupid and conceited, but you forgot reckless. You should have set wards around your circle to protect it. Why didn't you tell me that the rite was interrupted before you finished it?" Angel straightened up with a jerk. Buffy gave him an inquiring look, but when he didn't respond went back to watching the others.
Willow looked blank. "Why should I have told you? It obviously worked, ‘cause here she is." The last words were full of bitterness. "So what does it matter if we didn't finish?"
Tara wet her lips. "Um ... Giles, I was c-concerned about that too, at first. B-but, like Willow said, Buffy came back, so ... I thought everything m-must be okay... ." Her voice trailed away.
Giles surveyed them for a moment. He sighed. "I've been unforgivably remiss. You two are so powerful that I forget how little you actually know about magic. I should have been instructing you all this time - or have found an instructor for you - instead of letting you experiment on your own."
"So the rite didn't work after all." It was Anya. "Not the way it was supposed to." She bit her lip. "Usually when a ceremony gets disrupted like that, things go wrong in a major way. When that didn't happen, I thought - I don't know - that maybe the Powers had taken a hand."
Angel regarded her with sudden interest, but it was Buffy who asked, "Why did you think that?"
Anya shrugged. "Well, you are the Slayer. You're one of their most powerful warriors. I just figured that the Powers had decided They wanted you back, so they fixed things when the rite didn't work out."
Angel looked at the Watcher. "Giles," he said, "are you trying to tell us that what's affecting Buffy is more than just a little depression?"
Again Giles hesitated, taking out his handkerchief and pulling off his glasses. "I wasn't going to say anything until I'd investigated further, but I think under the circumstances Buffy deserves to know." He crossed back to her. "Buffy, I think that when you were brought back a part of your soul got left behind. It wasn't that noticeable at first because it merged with the trauma of being resurrected."
He paused, but decided not to go into the actual circumstances - that they'd left her buried underground so that she had to dig herself out of her coffin and six feet of dirt when she awakened. Everybody was aware of it; no need to emphasize it. "But as time passed the lack has made itself felt more strongly. I believe that's why you've been struggling for stability these past few weeks."
With a muffled cry, Willow turned away, burying her face in her hands. This time a grim-faced Xander joined Tara in putting an arm around the distraught young woman. Anya muttered, "Of course."
Buffy stared at Giles. "You're saying that all of me didn't make it back here?" Giles assented, adding, "I'm not one hundred percent positive, but given the facts, that conclusion makes a good deal of sense."
Buffy nodded slowly. "Yes. It does. That's exactly the way I've been feeling ... like a part of me is missing. I thought it was Angel being in L.A. instead of here " - glancing at the vampire - "but maybe it's more than that."
"I'm afraid so," Giles agreed. "After all, Angel has been gone for two years now - longer, actually - and you managed to survive without him all that time - until now."
Knowing he meant it for a joke, Buffy gave him a faint smile, but inside she recognized yet again that none of them really understood how important Angel was to her. That even though, yes, she'd survived his move to L.A., and had resumed her life, had even had a caring relationship with Riley, there was always a piece of her heart that forever yearned for the dark vampire with a soul - that wasn't at peace unless they were together. She caught Angel's eye, and knew he understood ... knew it was the same for him. She squeezed his hand.
"So what do you plan to do about this?" Angel asked Giles. "I assume you have a plan."
"Oh yes," Giles assured him, looking at Buffy to include her. "I need to do a little research, but there are ways to fix spells gone wrong, and I'm sure I'll have the answer in a day or two. Possibly sooner, if Willow and Tara will assist me."
"What?" The shock brought Willow's head up. She stared at him. "But - "
"You're a powerful witch," Giles interrupted, "as you pointed out to me once before." He gave her a wry smile. "And so is Tara. I could use your abilities, if you're willing to help."
"Of course we are," Tara put in. "Aren't we, Will?"
"Of course, but - " Willow's eyes flicked beyond her. " - Buffy might have something to say about that." All heads turned in that direction.
Buffy swallowed and glanced up at Angel. He squeezed her hand encouragingly. She walked over to Willow. The witch made an involuntary movement as if she wanted to run away, but visibly steeled herself and waited.
Buffy told her, "You thought I was in hell, like Angel had been, and you had good reason to think so. Glory was a hellgod and the portal she created opened into her home dimension. When I jumped you had no way of knowing that I hadn't been sucked into the portal - or that my soul hadn't since obviously my body was still here, unlike Angel's that time -"
She stopped, then went on, "Anyway, what I started to say is that I understand why you did it, Will."
"But can you ever forgive me?" Willow's lips trembled.
Could she? Could she forget her bitterness at losing a peace she'd only been able to dream of before? Buffy looked up at Angel. If she hadn't been brought back, how long would it have been before they were reunited - assuming he ever earned his redemption, of course? She took a deep breath and let go of her resentment as best she could. "There's nothing to forgive. You had no way of knowing what the truth was."
For the first time since the truth was revealed, Willow began crying. "I'm sorry, Buffy," she whispered through the tears streaming down her face. "I'm so sorry. If I'd known - "
"You couldn't have known," repeated Buffy, firmly. "And it doesn't matter now anyway. We can't change what's happened. I'm not sure I'd want to, come to that." She glanced at Angel and smiled. "But, Will, you might want to stand back and take a look at how much magic you're doing these days, ‘cause it seems to me that it's an awful lot. Anyway ... let's put this all behind us and get on with our lives. Which for you includes helping Giles figure out how to get me put back together again, right?"
Willow nodded, still crying. Giles pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose a couple of times. "Thank you." Muttering a short phrase in Latin, she gave the handkerchief back to Giles. "There. All clean again."
Giles slowly took it, his face grave. He glanced at Tara, noting the pain in her face. He caught her eye but she quickly looked away, which only increased his suspicions. Troubled, Giles stashed the handkerchief in his pocket. "All right, Willow, Tara, can you meet me tomorrow morning at the shop to begin our research?"
"I have an 8:30 class," Willow said, "but I could show up around 10:00."
"I can be there at 9:00," offered Tara. "Or earlier, if you want. My first class isn't until 1:00."
"I'll see you at 8:30, then," Giles confirmed. "I'm eager to get started this." He was equally anxious to find out what was going on with Willow. Her casual use of magic for such a trivial matter as a clean handkerchief was disquieting.
"So what happens now?" Dawn slumped onto the couch, relieved to be safely back home again. Idly she wondered if Tara had beaten them there. As they'd all exited the Bronze, Willow had muttered something about spending the night at her folks' house, then taken off without another word, leaving Tara gazing after her. Dawn frowned, wondering what was wrong with those two.
"I think it would be a good idea if you went to bed." Buffy rolled her head around, hearing her neck crack. "It's been a long day, it's late, and you have school tomorrow."
Dawn sighed. "Don't be so literal. I meant what's going to happen now with you - with the two of you? How is Angel going to find a way around his curse, like he promised?"
Buffy felt very tired. She tossed her coat across the back of a chair; she'd hang it up later. "I don't know, Dawn. Angel and I need to talk."
Her sister snorted in a very unladylike manner. "No shit."
That earned her a frown and a sharp, "Dawn!"
"Oh, please. Like you never said ‘shit' when you were fifteen." Dawn rose to her feet. "Which, let me remind you, wasn't all that long ago."
"Wasn't it?" Buffy murmured. The few years separating her and Dawn felt like a century. Had she ever been that young and innocent? That resilient?
Dawn seemed to sense some of what she was feeling; her face softened. She went over to Buffy. "Maybe you're the one who should be going to bed, Methuselah. You look beat." She looked up at Angel. "Don't keep her up too late talking, huh? Or anything else. Make her get some rest."
"I will," Angel promised. They watched Dawn ascend the staircase, then Buffy asked, "Would you like something to drink?"
"I'm fine."
"Well, I could use something." He followed Buffy into the kitchen where she opened the refrigerator. To his surprise, instead of a Coke or other soft drink she took out a bottle of white wine. It was almost empty, he noticed. Unconsciously he frowned. "When did you start drinking?"
Buffy glared at him. "Stop looking at me like I've suddenly turned into a secret alcoholic or something. I'm almost twenty-one, in case you've forgotten. Tara and Willow were over here a few nights ago and we each had a glass, that's all."
"Sorry," he apologized. "I was just surprised. I don't think I've ever seen you drink an alcoholic beverage."
"I don't very often." She filled the glass about half full. "But I think tonight calls for one." Perching on one of the kitchen stools, Buffy took a sip of the wine, savoring its cool softness on her tongue. "Want to tell me why you turned up in such a timely manner?" She managed a smile. "Not that I'm not grateful, you understand, but when we spoke last you seemed to be involved in one of Cordelia's visions."
"I was worried about you." Angel took another stool, facing her, their knees touching. "We took care of the problem in the vision, then seeing as how you and I haven't had much luck getting hold of each other lately I decided to come here afterward instead of just calling. Why didn't you tell me how bad it was for you?"
The abrupt change of subject didn't faze her; she'd been expecting that question. Buffy looked down at her glass, swirling the wine absently. "I don't know. It didn't seem important enough, I guess. I kept thinking it was just temporary, you know? That the depression would go away after a while." She looked up. "Plus it's only been really bad the last few days." She took another sip.
"Is that when you started worrying about Cordelia and me?" he asked. She nodded and he went on, "Buffy, you know - "
"Yes, I do," she interrupted, placing her hand on his arm. "There's nothing like that between you and Cordy. I do know it, Angel; I've known it all along. But I just couldn't stop thinking about it, and that's another reason I didn't say anything, because I knew I was being stupid, that there was no reason to get upset about it - "
It was Angel's turn to interrupt. "Buffy." His hand came to rest on hers, so it was sandwiched between his coolness. "At least now we know the reason why you were acting irrationally."
"Yeah, part of me's missing," she said bitterly. "I wonder what else went wrong with Willow's little spell?"
"Nothing else went wrong," Angel told her firmly.
"What if - " She bit her lip.
"What?"
Buffy voiced her secret fear. "What if we can't fix it? What if I never get whole again? I don't want to go on like this, feeling so . . . unstable."
"Don't you trust Giles?" asked Angel softly. "He said he'd find the solution."
"It's not a matter of trust, Angel. I know Giles will do his best, but - "
Again Angel interrupted. "Buffy." She looked at him. "You're the most important person in the world to him. He'll find the answer, if he has to move heaven and earth to do it." He paused. "Just as I will, to find out how to fix my curse."
She'd been trying not to think about that. Just the thought that they might soon be able to have a complete relationship made her heart sing with joy, but what if Angel couldn't make good on his promise? What if there *was* no way around the curse?
"What's wrong?" asked Angel.
"I'm afraid to hope." Her voice sank to a whisper. "I want it so much."
"I know; so do I." Angel leaned toward her, touched her cheek. "But I have to try, Buffy. Every day apart from you seems like a week, and when we are together I hate being afraid to touch you, of having to constantly monitor my feelings: Am I getting too happy? How much is too much? Where do I draw the line?" Pain etched his features.
"Yes." Buffy knew exactly what he meant; the worry was there for her too, in the back of her mind, every time they kissed or embraced. She drew a deep breath. "And even if ... if it turns out that nothing can be done about your curse, then ... "
"Then we'll be no worse off than we are right now," finished Angel heavily. "And at least we'll have tried."
"Yes." Buffy managed a tiny smile. She gulped down the rest of her wine and slid off the stool. Angel did the same. They stood facing each other, and Buffy flashed back to a certain never-forgotten night. "Do you remember the Three?"
Angel smiled down at her. "Of course I do."
"One of them slashed you - here." She traced an imaginary line across his shirt. "I brought you home. We went into the kitchen and you took off your shirt so I could bandage the wound. I can still remember standing here looking at you. You took my breath away."
She looked up and Angel felt his undead heart lurch at the expression in her eyes. "I watched you that night while you slept," he murmured, stroking her cheek, "and I thought to myself that I'd never seen anything as beautiful as your face in the moonlight."
Her lips were warm and soft. After a moment he drew her closer, giving himself up to their kiss. Every point of pressure from her body sent a thrill of excitement through him. Suddenly he swept her up into his arms and carried her out of the kitchen.
"What are you doing?"
Angel didn't answer, just started up the stairs.
"Angel, what - "
"Shh," he told her. "We don't want to wake Dawn."
Buffy eyed him uncertainly. "We don't?"
"Definitely not." He took her into her bedroom and set her gently down on the bed, then went back and closed the door. She heard the "snick" as he locked it. Buffy sat up. What in the world was he doing? She started to ask him, but then he turned around again - and she saw his face. She stared, unable to believe what she was reading in it. Angel crossed the short distance separating them, and sat beside her on the bed.
"Angel - we can't." Her voice trembled.
He caressed her lips with his fingertip. "Do you trust me?"
Her eyes grew wet as she met his intent gaze. "You know I do. With my life."
"Then trust that I know what I'm doing." He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her. Instantly she felt the difference. As always these days, his lips were gentle and loving - but this time nothing was being held back. All his passion, the pent-up desire of three years, was set free. It hit her like a cataract, crashing through the defenses that held her own longing in check. Her heart gave a thump. Feeling faint, she broke off the kiss, throwing her head back and fighting for breath.
"Angel!" she gasped. Instead of stopping as she expected, he moved his gentle assault to her neck, kissing her on her throat, nipping her earlobes. Then his tongue brushed across the scars from his bite - and Buffy felt the touch through her entire body. Shivering, she gasped again. Angel kissed along the V-neck of her shirt.
Her soft sighs and gasps were music to Angel. The sight of the tiny white scars on her neck evoked a flood of memories: her voice telling him to "Drink me!" ... her faint cry as his teeth pierced her delicate skin ... the sweet saltiness of her blood filling his mouth, the power of her essence flowing through him, healing him of the poison from Faith's arrow. Impulsively, he ran his tongue over the marks, slowly, savoring their texture, and felt her shudder, heard another gasp.
He skimmed the neckline of her shirt with his lips, planting kisses on her soft, warm skin, lingering on the gentle swell of breast revealed by the low cut. Her heart skipped a beat, then began pounding even harder, filling his ears with its rhythmic throb. Gathering hold of the knit fabric, he began pulling the bottom of her shirt upward.
"Raise your arms," he whispered. Before the shirt was free of her body, however, he glanced down. The bra she was wearing was nothing more than a thin piece of nylon that concealed nothing. Through its filmy covering he could plainly see the dark pink of her aureoles. Without thinking, he leaned down. His mouth closed over one breast, his tongue rasping over her nipple, and *that* touch also sent a lightning reaction throughout her body. Buffy moaned.
Impatiently she freed herself from the confinement of her shirt. For a moment she looked into his eyes, then she leaned forward and they kissed, softly at first but then deeply, hungrily. Still kissing, Angel reached behind her and unhooked the bra, slipping the straps over her arms and tossing it to the floor. Without missing a beat he bent down to her other breast, suckling it gently into his mouth, working the nipple with his tongue. At the same time he slipped one hand between their bodies and cupped it between her legs, pressing rhythmically.
Lightning ran through her body. Buffy instinctively pushed into his touch, wanting more. He complied, moving his hand in small circles while his mouth moved back and forth between her breasts. Her nipples grew hard as pebbles and the scent of her arousal, already noticeable to his acute senses, grew stronger. Suddenly he straightened up and kissed her, deeply, then eased her down onto the bed.
Before she knew what was happening, Buffy found herself lying down again, and Angel was working her pants down over her hips. Fresh air fanned her legs as the pants went flying across the room, joined a moment later by her panties. The small part of her brain that was still working reminded her how dangerous this situation was.
"Angel," she managed to whisper. Then she felt his fingers parting her, and the touch of his cold tongue *there*, and all thought fled.
Angel couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so close to losing himself. God, it had been so long! Two years had passed since The Day That Wasn't ... since he'd held her, naked, in his arms ... since her scent had filled his nostrils, and her taste intoxicated him. Two years since he'd watched the flush creeping over her skin as he caressed her, since he'd heard her gasping cries, felt the tension start to build within her. He eased one finger inside her, then realized his care was unnecessary: She was dripping wet. One finger became two, and his thumb replaced his tongue as he moved his mouth up her writhing body. Again he stopped to suckle her breasts, not as gently this time, pulling them deep into his mouth and flicking the nipples roughly with his tongue.
She cried out and pulled his head up to hers, kissing his mouth and throat with an intensity that almost pushed him over the edge. Breaking free from her hold he found the scars on her neck. Again he rasped his tongue over them, at the same time caressing her with his thumb and thrusting his fingers deep inside her core.
Buffy gasped and moaned, arching her back, as the triple assault sent her headlong into orgasm. Tremors shook her body from head to toe while Angel continued his ministrations, until finally she gasped, "No!"
Instantly Angel stopped. "What's wrong?"
"It's too much!" she panted. "I can't take any more." After a few moments, when she'd caught her breath, she opened her eyes. "If I weren't so spent I'd wipe that smirk right off your face, mister."
The faint, smug smile widened as Angel settled himself beside her. Buffy chuckled and nestled against him. "Okay, I guess you've earned the right to it. That was - incredible." He drew her closer. Buffy snaked her hand down and found, as she'd expected, that he was rock-hard. "But what about you?"
"I'll survive," he told her lightly, although privately he wasn't too sure about that. He was so stiff it was painful. His entire groin ached and throbbed.
"That's not fair," she replied, and with one swift gesture unzipped his pants.
"Buffy - " he began, only to break off with a choked sound as her soft hand caressed him from root to base, and back again. To Buffy's astonishment, that one touch was all it took. Angel moaned deep in his throat, and his body convulsed. Icy semen spurted across her hand and over her abdomen, as Angel climaxed again and again. When finally it was over -
"I'm sorry," he murmured, fishing in his pocket for a handkerchief.
"Does this happen often?" Buffy took the handkerchief and cleaned the sticky substance from her hand and body - and from the sheet. "I mean, under different circumstances, it could be a real problem." She gave him a teasing look.
Angel smiled faintly. "Pot calling the kettle black?"
Buffy blushed. "True," she acknowledged - and it was. She hadn't come that fast in - she couldn't remember *ever* coming that fast. They looked into each other's eyes for a long moment, then Buffy swallowed. "You better go," she whispered. Much as she longed for him to stay, that would only be asking for trouble.
Angel nodded and rolled off the other side of the bed, tucking himself in and zipping up before walking over to her. Buffy hastily grabbed her robe from the foot of the bed and wrapped it around herself. They embraced tightly.
"I love you," Buffy whispered, her throat aching.
"I love you too," he replied through an equally tight throat. He kissed the top of her head. "Get some rest; I'll see you tomorrow."
"Do you have a place to stay?" she suddenly asked. During his other visits he'd slept on their couch, but that probably wasn't a good idea tonight. The living room was much too ... accessible.
"The mansion."
She nodded silently. They drew apart and she walked Angel to her door, unlocking it and opening it. "Good night."
"Good night." He leaned down and kissed her again, then turned and walked away. Buffy listened while his footsteps died away and the front door opened and shut again, until the silence of the house seemed to press in on her. Slowly she returned to her cold bed, aching for his presence but at the same time strangely content. Gathering up the spare pillow in her arms, she pulled it close and fell asleep almost instantly.
Sunnydale seemed quiet and peaceful during the drive to the mansion on Crawford Street, with few cars and even fewer pedestrians to be seen, but Angel knew how deceptive that appearance was. In the unlit alleyways and other dark holes of the town lurked vampires and other unsavory demons, in search of unwary humans to prey upon. Spike was somewhere out there, he was sure, maybe hoping to run across a deserted kill that was fresh enough for him to finish draining. Assuming there was any blood left in it *to* drain, of course. Angel grimaced. He didn't want to think about Spike. Not tonight, when he could still feel Buffy in his arms, still feel her touch, her warmth. Which reminded him.
He reached for his cell phone, punched in the number of the Hyperion. Late though it was, he was fairly certain someone would still be there. Sure enough, Wesley answered. "Wes, it's me."
Wesley sighed in relief. "Angel, good. I was beginning to worry. Everything all right in Sunnydale?"
"Well, the song and dance demon is gone, at least," Angel replied.
Wesley detected a certain frustration in his voice. "Is something else wrong?"
"I need you to do something for me. Not tonight; tomorrow will do."
"Yes?" Wes reached for a pen.
"I want you to research my curse."
The pen stopped halfway to the notepad. "Your curse? Er, why?"
"Because there has to be a way around that true happiness part, and we're going to find it. It's stupid anyway; I can't imagine what the gypsies were thinking of when they put it in."
"I've often wondered that myself," admitted Wesley. "Creating a loophole for Angelus to return through doesn't make much sense."
"None at all," Angel agreed. "I'm planning on staying here for a few days, unless something comes up and you need me, of course."
"Right. Well, I'll get started on the research tomorrow."
"I'll talk to you soon. ‘Bye." Angel pressed the "End Talk" button and tossed the phone onto the passenger seat beside him as he turned into the entrance to the mansion.
Wesley hung up the receiver, then leaned back in his chair and stared thoughtfully at the opposite wall. Why had it never occurred to him - to any of them, for that matter - that Angel's curse might be altered so that the vampire wouldn't lose his soul again if he experienced true happiness? Rising, he went over to one of the bookcases and ran his finger over the leather-bound volumes.
"Transfiguration Spells of the Far East ... Mythology and Wizardry ... Demons I Have Known ... Ah! Curses and Spells of the Romani." He took the surprisingly slim volume down and set it on his desk, then reconsidered and picked it up again. "A little light reading will help me get to sleep." Tucking the book under his arm he switched off the light and closed the door on his way out.
("Together you are powerful. Alone, you are dead.")
Buffy opened her eyes, the memory of the voice still sounding in her ears. She'd had that dream again, the same one she'd had that night in the Hyperion, the one about the Mirror demon, or whatever it was. Mohra, that was it. Frowning a little, she got out of bed. While she took her shower she wondered why she'd dreamed it a second time. It wasn't like it could be a warning or anything. How could it be, when the events in it - the real ones, that is - had already happened? And not recently either - no, it had been two years ago that she'd visited Angel in his old office in Los Angeles and they'd reiterated their decision to stay apart from one another, just before the Mohra jumped through the window into the office. As she dressed she decided to tell Giles about the dream, see if he thought there was any significance in it.
Entering the kitchen she found Dawn seated at the counter, a bowl of cereal in front of her. "Morning, Dawnie. Feel like some eggs?" Buffy opened the refrigerator and took down the egg container.
"No thanks," replied her sister. "This'll do me. How was Angel last night? When he left, I mean."
"He was fine, why?" Buffy cracked two eggs into the skillet she'd just coated with cooking spray, and turned on the burner to a high flame.
Dawn shrugged. "Just wondered."
Buffy found a spatula and began gently scrambling the eggs. After a moment she glanced over at Dawn, who was just sitting there, running her spoon idly through the cereal but not eating anything. Was it her imagination, or was something wrong? "You're awfully quiet this morning."
Dawn just shrugged again.
Okay, something was definitely up. "Is everything okay?" persisted Buffy.
Yet another shrug. "Just tired. I didn't sleep real well last night."
"Oh? How come?" Buffy shook some salt and pepper over the solidifying eggs and stirred them again, turning the flame down a trifle.
"I kept hearing things."
Glancing sharply at her, Buffy frowned. "Like what?" She scooped up the mixture with the spatula and turned it over to finish cooking.
"Just ... things. Voices." Buffy stopped in mid-motion. Dawn continued, "I mean, it wasn't words or anything, just kind of ... I don't know, moaning or gasping or something."
Spatula suspended over the skillet, Buffy swallowed. "Moaning?"
‘Yeah, you know, like this." Dawn closed her eyes. "Ohhhhh." It was more of a sigh than a moan, but Buffy recognized it instantly.
"Oh my God." Buffy shut *her* eyes, wishing the floor would open up and swallow her. She swallowed again. "Dawn - " She opened her eyes to see her sister looking at her with an expression that could only be called a smirk.
"Gee, Buffy, do you think we're being haunted? Maybe by the ghosts of two lovers?" Dawn clasped her hands to her chest and moaned again, "Ohh, Angel ... oh yes ... Angel... yes, yes!" The last words were almost shrieked.
"I *never* said that!" Buffy exclaimed without thinking. Dawn snickered and Buffy's face flamed. Pressing her lips tightly together, she rescued the eggs just as they were beginning to scorch, dumping them onto a plate and carrying it over to the counter. She sat beside her sister.
"Very funny." Grimly she began eating. Still chuckling, Dawn said, "Buffy, I'm sorry. I just couldn't resist teasing you a little. Come on, you're not really mad - are you?" Her voice became coaxing.
Buffy sighed. "No, I'm not mad. Not at you, anyway. I am angry at myself, though, for putting you in that situation. I'm sorry; it won't happen again." Suddenly her head shot up, her eyes wide with alarm. She grabbed her sister's arm. "Dawn, you can't tell anyone about it! Child Services might try to take you away if they knew I had a man in my bedroom when you were in the house."
Dawn said soothingly, "Hey, I was only kidding about the noises. I didn't hear anything, honest. I was getting up to go to the bathroom when Angel came out of your room. I saw you two kiss and, well, since all you had on was a robe it didn't take an Einstein to figure out that *something* had been going on."
Buffy blushed.
Dawn eyed her. "So how did you get around Angel's curse? I mean, you are sure that he didn't lose his soul, right?" A worried look crossed her face.
Buffy blushed even harder. "Yes, I'm sure, and never mind how." Grabbing her plate, she wolfed down the last two bites on her way to the sink, rinsed her plate and stuck it and the fork in the dishwasher. On her way out she called over her shoulder, "Don't be late for school. I'll probably be over at the shop when you get out."
Chuckling, Dawn turned back to her cereal. She made a face, and headed for the sink to dump the soggy mess in the garbage disposal. That taken care of, she poured more cereal in the bowl, added milk, and sat down again - this time to actually eat.
"This is very disturbing." Giles paced around the room for a minute, hands in pockets, deep in thought.
Tara bit her lip. "I know. It's like she thinks it's the answer to everything. She uses magic to open the curtains and make the bed in the morning, and if she can't find something, like a particular shirt, instead of looking under the bed or checking the laundry she does a ‘come to me' spell. I've tried to talk to her, but she just won't listen. Or else she gets angry."
Remembering the aftermath of that anger, how Willow had put a spell on her to make her forget their argument, Tara looked down at the table. She noticed she was rhythmically clenching and unclenching her hands together, and forced herself to relax them.
Giles stopped pacing. "There's something more, isn't there? Something other than just using magic for small, everyday matters." He studied her averted face, noting the shadows beneath her eyes, and made a shrewd guess. "Willow used magic on you, didn't she? Maybe so you'd ... stop arguing with her?"
Tara's head jerked up. The shock on her face confirmed Giles' deduction. He sighed. "When magic-users go down the wrong path, they almost always begin with trying to make their own lives more pleasant. Which usually means tampering with people, and given your reactions to her yesterday it seemed a fair bet that meant you. And possibly others," he added.
"She put a forget spell on me," Tara said in a low voice that trembled in spite of her efforts to keep it steady. "So I wouldn't remember that we'd quarreled about magic a couple of days ago. But Dawn said something about it yesterday - she'd overheard us - so I looked up the herb Willow had left on my pillow. It w-wasn't a love token, like I'd thought. It was L-Lethe's Bramble." Her stammer reappeared, as it always did under stressful situations.
"Ah." Giles was silent for a moment, shocked and sympathizing with the young woman's pain. "I'm sorry," he finally said. "That's - after what Glory did to you, that was an unbelievable act of betrayal on Willow's part."
"I don't think that's occurred to her," Tara said quickly. "I mean, that what she did w-was the same thing Glory had done, just not as big."
"That may very well be true," Giles agreed, "but I'm not sure whether the fact that she didn't realize it is a good thing ... or the opposite. At the very least it indicates she's not thinking clearly about what she's doing. I'd say an intervention is most definitely in order, and none too soon. I only hope it's not too late."
"It can't be too l-late!" Tara protested. "You saw the way she was last night, how she kept beating herself up for what happened to Buffy - blaming herself."
"Yes, and that's a good sign." Giles sighed, standing up. "Well, let's get started on our research about the resurrection spell. When Willow comes in this morning, I'll have a talk with her, but in the meantime Buffy needs our help too."
"Yes," agreed Tara with a sigh. She followed Giles over to the bookcase.