Chapter 12: OLDER WOMEN AND YOUNGER MEN

Joyce Finn ran as if her life depended on it. She couldn't remember ever having ran so fast in her life. Usually she wasn't very much for running. She didn't have a problem with it either, but she wasn't much for working out, gymnastics or even worse, being a cheerleader. So it was very unusual for her to run, more so as it was in the middle of a warm Californian day.

After half a mile she was totally exhausted, sweat was streaming down her body, and her lungs felt as if they were going to explode at any moment. She couldn't run anymore, she had to slow down. So she did it. Slightly. No, she was certain that she never ran like this before. But then, it didn't happen every day that you came home and found your mother with her lover.

In bed.

Naked.

Using her sleeve to wipe the sweat from her face, Joyce closed her eyes for a moment in disgust. It was bad enough to know that her parents had a sex life. Parents were... well, parents. They were older. Much older. And older people and sex just didn't mix. But of course Joyce wasn't as naive as to believe that her siblings had come through some miracle. She knew her parents had sex. It had been bad enough to accept that.

But now she'd found her mother with another man. God, her father was dead for only half a year and her mother had been jumping... she shuddered slightly and suppressed a sob. As much as she had hated the fact that her mother was drinking and had given up life and with it, her children, it had been comforting to think she was so broken about her husband's death that she couldn't stand living without him.

As of today that idea didn't work anymore. Her mother had a lover. Sheesh. Her mother was supposed to be her mother. Mourning her father. Not screwing... Another tremor ran through her body while her mind refused to accept what she had seen. That her mother was having sex, was sleeping, was getting naked with a man, who was not her father. A man who quite obviously was younger. Much, much younger. As if the situation wasn't bad enough. Her mom had to go and find herself a lover who looked as if he was just a couple years older than Joyce.

The girl stopped dead in tracks. She sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes widened, and she felt suddenly weak. Reaching for the next car, she held onto it, until she was sure she wouldn't break down here and now.

Holy Cow.

She knew the man she had seen in her mother's bed. The bed her parents had once shared. She hadn't paid much attention to him at first, too angry with her mother. But now, when she recalled the situation in her mind, her mother clutching a sheet to cover her nudity, her lover... Jesus Bleeding Christ. She knew exactly who the guy was. She had seen him. Even flirted with him. He had asked her for the directions to her house. It had been the guy in the convertible, the guy who had made her heart pound faster, the guy she had hoped to see again, maybe to get to know him better.

Oh, well, she thought sarcastically, she would certainly get to know him better now. He was screwing her mother after all. God, this was too much. Not that it wasn't bad enough that her mother was sleeping with another man. No, it had to be a man, Joyce remembered finding dangerously attractive, even admitted to have a little bit of a crush on.

What the hell was she going to do now? She had no idea what to do. But one thing was absolutely certain. There was no way her mother could go on being with this guy. Not just because her daughter had the hots for him, Joyce wouldn't even allow herself to think of him that way anymore, after his hands had been allover her mother, no, but because it just wasn't right. There was still her father, who had just died and then... older women didn't date younger men.

Willow.

The name shot through her head and a smile split up her face. Willow would know what to do. Yes, she would talk to Willow. The redhead was the voice of reason. And she surely would be able to talk some sense into her mother too.

*****

"Buffy, calm down," Angel said, stepping into his pants, then went into the living room only to realize that Buffy hadn't exaggerated about his shirt. It was torn. There was no way he could wear it. Not only were the buttons all torn off, no there were holes in it as if some oversized kitten had tried to claw through it. He had to smile at the image. Yes, there were certainly similarities between Buffy and a kitten. His smile became wicked for a second, but vanished completely, when Buffy stormed in the living room, her hair tousled, but completely dressed, her face slightly panicked.

"Calm down?" she echoed. "Joyce just found her mother in bed with another man. A man who wasn't her father."

"Thanks to God for it," Angel muttered under his breath.

She glared at him for a second, and then went on, "Her father, who by the way only died six months ago." She stopped and looked at him, hands firmly planted at her hips, "Tell me, how would you feel if you were her?"

Angel considered it for a second, and then grimaced, "Point taken," he said, not really knowing what to do. Joyce had left so fast they hadn't even had an opportunity to call her back, too shocked by the unexpected confrontation in the bedroom. "Still," he said then, "What do you want to do? She's probably very angry right now. There's no way she's going to talk to you at the moment. And even if she did, what would you tell her? The situation was pretty obvious. We were naked in bed. And we were having sex."

"I know that," Buffy bit out through gritted teeth.

"Buffy," he said gently, "She needs time. Most of all she needs time to think this through. I'm sure she's a bright girl. She'll realize that this had nothing to do with her father, and she will come to accept that her mother is still part of the living. That her mother is still free to love," he stepped closer, slowly, tentatively, "Because her mother is a beautiful woman, who cannot stop living at the age of forty, just to keep the memory of a dead man alive and her daughter happy."

Finally he was standing only a foot away, but he didn't dare reaching out for her although he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and make all the hurt and pain go away.

Averting her eyes, Buffy released a pent up breath and Angel could see her blinking rapidly, then she combed a shaky hand through her hair. "God, Angel," she said, rising her head, looking at him, "This is one of the worst moments in my life. She looked so hurt... so shaken to the core. I don't know if she'll ever forgive me."

"Forgive you for what?" he asked, feeling anger rising in him. "For having a life? For sleeping with a man? For finding love? Buffy, there is nothing you've done that needs forgiving. Stop feeling guilty all the time. I know that sounds as if it's easy. But it isn't. Still you have to stop. Because if you don't we won't have a chance. Because then your children, and in your case Joyce, will tell you what to do. She'll use your guilt to her advantage."

She looked at him and Angel felt an icy hand gripping his heart when he saw the warmth disappear from Buffy's eyes, when they seemed to shut down and when she finally raised a brow in some sort of mocking gesture, "And who's telling you I want a chance with you?" she asked, her voice cool and controlled. "Okay, so we jumped in the sack together. But that doesn't mean there's more to it."

"Like hell it isn't," he shouted, his anger getting the best of him. "I know you, Buffy. You can say what you want, but what just happened meant something. It was important for both of us. Don't try telling me it wasn't because I know better."

She shrugged, "Believe what you want. For me, the past hours were nothing but sex. Granted, it was mind-blowing and really good, but still nothing more than sex."

God, she was building walls so fast, Angel thought, feeling panic rising. The walls were coming up so fast, he had no idea how to tear then down again. "That's a lie and you know it. The way you were talking to me-"

"Pillow-talk," she threw at him, looking almost bored. "Angel, women will tell you a lot after sex. You should know that, but then, you didn't have a lot of practice lately, right? Well, believe me. Women tell a lot of stuff after a good fuck."

"Oh God," he moaned, feeling sick all of a sudden, "Don't do this, Buffy," he pleaded, reaching out for her. She instantly stepped away, out of his reach. "I know you still have problems dealing with your guilt about Riley. And now Joyce..." he shook his head, trying to find the right words, "I know it hurts and you're afraid to lose her, but you won't. Please don't give up on us just because she's not behaving rationally at the moment."

She turned her head and the moment he saw her eyes Angel's heart hit the bottom with a loud thud. He could see it, could see it in the depth of her hazel orbs. "I want you to leave," she said, her voice carefully controlled. "There is no 'us'. A roll in the sack doesn't give you any right. And I will certainly not allow for some lover to come between my children and me. Take your things and leave."

He longed to reach out and take her into his arms, and another part just wanted to spank her bottom and beat some sense into her stubborn head. But he knew that she would step away the moment he tried to touch her and as for beating. He sighed inwardly. There had already been too much violence in his life and hitting the woman he loved wasn't a priority on his list. Besides he knew for sure it wouldn't help at all. She had built up her wall and nothing he could do that would be able to tear it down again.

So he just slipped through the arms of the shirt that still wore Buffy's marks that still smelled like her. His eyes were sad and tired when he finally looked up. Her eyes were narrowed and cold. Distant. Almost hostile. Well, so much for sweet after-sex bliss, he thought sarcastically.

Without another word he walked out of her apartment.

*****

The front door slammed shut with a force that had Willow almost dropping the spell book she'd been reading. Tara had brought it yesterday from the Wiccan shop and it was really interesting, she'd said. Willow could only agree. For the last two hours the redhead had been studying a spell about turning a human in animal form back to his real self. Her gaze flickered to the cage were the Amy-rat was happily racing her wheel. Granted, it looked as if the former witch had accepted her fate, and without doubt she had to be the oldest rat alive, but Willow couldn't help but think it would be nicer to walk on two legs and to have more distraction than just a wheel and some tasty food.

Only seconds after the door had been slammed Joyce stormed into the living room, her eyes puffy from crying, her hair disheveled, sweat was running down her face and she seemed distressed.

Willow put the book away quickly and rushed to the girl's side, "Joyce, honey, what happened? Are you alright?"

Joyce tried to gulp some air into her still burning lungs, "No," she pressed out, "I'm not... alright." She took another deep breath and seeing Willow's alarmed expression she amended, "I'm okay, physically."

The redhead released a pent up breath, then led the teenager towards the sofa. "Sit down, honey. Can I get you something? A drink?"

"No," the girl shook her head, "Thanks. I... I don't need anything." Suddenly, unexpectedly, tears welled up in he eyes. "I... I..."

Willow wrapped an arm around her and crooned, "Shhh, it's okay. Everything will be okay. Just tell me and we'll find a way to make it better."

"Nothing will be okay," Joyce replied, glad her heart wasn't beating so fast anymore. She wouldn't have liked getting a heart attack. On the other hand, maybe her mother would've felt sorry then, would realize what she's done. She felt so much irrational anger against the woman who'd born her, felt betrayed in a way she'd never experienced before.

"Of course it will," Willow said gently. "Things always look worse than they really are."

But Joyce wasn't ready for the real voice of reason. She pulled away quickly, her eyes full of anger, "Look worse?" she asked sardonically. "I wonder if there's anything worse than finding your mother with a man?"

The redhead's mouth jaw hit the ground, "What?" she asked, staring at the teenager.

"You heard me," Joyce replied, "I found my mother with... with... a man."

To the girl's great surprise, Willow's expression turned to one of speculation, "A man, huh?" she said, not quite able to hide the smile in her eyes. She had a good idea who the man was. And frankly, she wanted to jump on the table and dance. "Can you describe him?"

Joyce blushed slightly, but managed to keep her voice angry, "He... uh... was kind of cute, I have to say that. Tall, dark, good-looking. Brown eyes. Spiky hair."

The redhead tilted her head slightly, "You got quite a good look at him," she commented.

The girl's blush deepened, "I... uh... kinda met him before," she admitted. "A week ago, he was looking for our street, asked me for the address and we talked." Angry with herself, that she'd sounded more wistful than angry, she said, "And that makes it even worse. He came to Sunnydale only a few days ago and then I find him and mom. Together."

Willow's eyes narrowed, "Define, together," she demanded.

"They were naked," Joyce said acidly, "And don't try to tell me they were just doing some weird form of playing doctor. I'm not stupid. They've been doing the nasty thing."

The witch couldn't help her face lighting up with a beam, "Oh, good," she said.

Joyce gasped, "WHAT?" she shouted, staring at Willow in distress. What the hell was happening? She'd gone to find an ally and now it seemed she'd found her mother's most cheerful supporter.

"I'm sorry, Joyce," Willow replied, sobering, "I know you might have expected me to shout and be very angry. But I can't," she took a deep breath and put a hand on the teenager's arm, "Maybe it's time to tell you about Buffy and her lover."

"You mean there is MORE? It's not disgusting enough to find her with a man in bed. A man who's only half her age, I want to add. She might look young, but-"

"Uh... actually he's not half her age."

"YOUNGER?" Joyce's eyes almost bulged out of her head. "Oh, that's *so* bad. So very, very bad." If he was even less than half her age, that would make him... Oh God! He couldn't be much older than Joyce was herself. And Willow seemed to back it up. What was happening? Was she in some wacky nightmare and hadn't just noticed it?

"No. Not really. As a matter of fact, he's older, much, much older," Willow said with a gentle smile. "There's more to Angel than it meets the eye."

"Define older. Because for me he looks younger, much, much younger."

"About 250 years older," the redhead said matter-of-factly.

"250... WHAT? Oh sure, Aunt Willow? Did you take any pills or... WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!?"

The redhead sighed heavily. There was a lot to explain, "Okay, Joyce. Why don't you sit down and I'll tell you that Angel was born more than 250 years ago in Ireland."

Chapter 13: CONCERNED FRIENDS AND OTHER FEELINGS

"Where is she?" Buffy asked breathlessly and walked passed Willow who had opened the door. The blond had run almost the whole way from her apartment to the redhead's house after the witch had called her and told her that Joyce was safely home.

Willow followed her friend to the living room, stopped there and crossed her arms in front of her chest, "Hi, Buffy," she said, sarcasm in her voice.

The blond whirled around and at the sight of her friend, she released a pent up breath and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened it again, her expression was apologetic. "Sorry, Will. Hi. I didn't want to..." she gestured towards the door, "You know. But I was so worried. How is she? Is she alright?"

Willow smiled and uncrossing her arms walked towards the kitchen, "You want something to drink?" she asked over her shoulder. "And to answer your question. Joyce is fine. She's upset," she said returning with two soft drinks in her hands, "but," she handed one to Buffy with a stern face, "what can you expect after she found her mother in bed with a man. Naked." She bit her lower lip, but it was in vain, a grin spread across her face. "May I say congrats?"

"What?" Buffy stared at her.

"I assume the man she described is Angel?"

"Why do I get the expression you think it's a good thing?" the blond asked wondrously. "And yeah. It was Angel."

"Good," the witch replied with a smile. "And yes, I think it's a good thing. It's the best thing, if you ask me. You've loved him for so long, Buffy." Her smiled widened when she saw the surprise on her friend's face, "You think I didn't notice? I'm your friend. Friends notice these things. But even if I hadn't. Do you remember asking me about different kinds of love? You never mentioned Angel, but I knew nevertheless."

This couldn't be real, Buffy decided. She was sitting in Willow's living room and her friend was encouraging her to continue an affair with Angel. No word about Joyce's feelings, just 'she's fine, and of course a little bit upset', but no blaming, nothing.

"Where is Angel by the way?" the witch asked suddenly, "I thought he'd come with you."

"I sent him away," Buffy replied, still trying to sort out her feelings and thoughts.

"YOU WHAT?" Willow shouted, her eyes wide and disbelieving. "No, you didn't? Buffy, he's the best thing that could've happened to you and you sent him away?," she let out an exasperated sigh and shook her head. "Why?"

"I... I..." the blond stuttered, not knowing what to say. There had been so many good reasons, but she couldn't think of one at the moment. But there had been a reason why she'd treated him like scum and just ordered him out of her life - and that after she'd seen his eyes. Oh God. She suddenly realized she'd moaned out loud.

Willow's gaze sharpened, "Was it because of Joyce? It was, wasn't it? God, Buffy. Did you honestly think that sending Angel away would change the fact that she saw you together in bed? Did you plan to go to her and humbly ask for forgiveness?" the witch was getting really angry, "Did you think, you needed to sacrifice the only man you ever loved, really loved, so she would love you again?"

The redhead saw the truth of her words, when the blond looked up at her with pain and tear filled eyes. She took a deep breath, then looked at he friend helplessly, "God, Buffy, what have you done? That's not the way to deal with it. Joyce has to accept that there are parts of your life that are private."

"That's what Angel tried to tell me," Buffy said tonelessly. "He..." her voice cracked, and she pressed a hand to her mouth and suppressed a sob. "Oh God, Willow."

"And Joyce will accept it. I talked to her. She's upset, but I told her about you and Angel. I know she has a problems with vampires and maybe also with ex-vamps, but she had to know, so she could understand that you and Angel aren't just some random affair. You didn't just forget about her father and jumped into bed with a, quote, 'much, much younger man'. I explained to her that you had to give up Angel and that as a result you married Riley and she was born, and Ben, and Marlie. I think the moment this sinks in she'll understand."

Buffy was silent after that and looked at her friend for a long time. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she nodded and stood. She managed a smile, "Willow, can I use your phone?" she asked simply and her friend smiled.

*****

Cordelia Chase, because she was still Chase as she'd simply refused to be Mrs. Wyndham-Pryce, switched off the phone and put the receiver down, but didn't move, just stared at it with a thoughtful expression in her eyes. She almost jumped when a hand slipped around her waist and someone started to nibble at the back of her neck. Usually she would've liked that kind of attention, but "Not now, Wes," she hissed and freed her from his embrace.

Stepping away from him, she rubbed her forehead, and then combed a hand through her hair. It wasn't that effective, because it was short these days. Again. It had been grown long for several years, but hitting the 4-0, she thought long hair wasn't really that appropriate anymore. So she'd cut it, and Angelo, her hairdresser, had almost cried. She shook her head over her own train of thoughts. Had to be the stress, she decided.

Turning she found her husband watching her with his serious eyes, "Something wrong?" he asked and she found herself reminded why she loved him so much. His voice was gentle and full of concern and his eyes were filled with love. His hair had started to turn silver at his temples, but in Cordelia's eyes that made him only more attractive.

"I'm not sure," she replied, burying her hand in her hair again. She took a deep breath, "That was Buffy," she told him.

"Buffy?" one of his brows shot up, "Buffy Summers? Why on earth would Buffy call you?"

"She wanted to know which hotel Angel was staying at in Sunnydale."

Wesley smiled slightly, "Well that's good. We were hoping they might get back together."

"*You* were hoping they'd get back together," she said, "I told him he should stay the hell away from her. She's never been good for him. Whenever she came to L.A. or we had to go back to Sunnydale, especially after she married that soldier-guy who had no fashion sense at all by the way, he was a wreck for days, sometimes weeks afterwards. Remember, when we were going to slay that demon, because Buffy was supposed to be ill? Then it turned out she was pregnant and you certainly remember what happened when we came back, right?"

He inhaled deeply and nodded, "Yeah, I remember," he replied, and he did. There was no way he'd forget finding Angel one morning in a drunken stupor, so drunk that he'd fallen asleep in front of an open window. When Wesley had arrived at the hotel, the vampire had been smoldering already. Had he been only one moment later, there would've been no way he could've prevented Angel being reduced to ashes.

"Buffy Summers," Cordelia went on, "is the only one with the power to make Angel truly miserable. And although he's human now and there's no danger anymore for him to just walk into the sunlight and burst into flames, I still don't like to see him suffer." Suddenly realizing what she'd said, she tried to cover up, "Because he'll brood again, and he's such a good babysitter, but in brood-mood he isn't. Michael starts complaining that his uncle Angel didn't want to play-"

Wesley stopped his wife's babbling by walking over and wrapping his arms around her, "I know," he said softly, kissing her inviting lips. He reached up and ran the back of his hand over her cheek, thanking the Powers or God or whoever was in charge up there that they'd led him to this incredible woman who had brought so much love into his life. "You're a good friend, Cordy. Angel should be glad to have you as his friend."

"He better not forget it," she replied gruffly, blinking rapidly. God, this was so embarrassing. She was Cordelia, and most of the time she was in control. But Wesley had the power to turn her insides into mush. "I don't mind Buffy, really I don't, but she'd better not hurt him, because I have a busy life and absolutely no time to rush over there to pick up the pieces."

Wesley tightened his arms around her and kissed her again, "I know," he whispered, deepening the kiss, "I know."

*****

Angel pressed the last of his shirts in his bag and zipped it shut, then threw it onto his bed. He had even packed the shirt Buffy had torn only hours ago. He should just have thrown it away, but of course, idiot he was he couldn't do it.

Running a hand through his hair, he took a deep breath. He was such a fool. How could he have believed just for a moment, that making love to Buffy would change things? But when she'd told him she'd never been in love with Riley, he hadn't been able to hold back. And she'd reacted with the same passion. Angel knew, he just knew, that it had been more than sex. He knew Buffy, and he had seen it in her eyes, had felt it in every touch; in the way she'd clung to him, the way she'd sobbed when they'd spiraled out of control together.

But making love was one thing, reality another. Reality meant Buffy had three children. Three children she had neglected for almost six months. For a mother that was an eternity and a buck load of guilt. Ben and Marlie had accepted her back in their lives without fuss. But Joyce was difficult. And when the girl had obviously decided to give her mother another chance she'd found Buffy in bed with a stranger.

Talk about bad timing.

But all this didn't change the fact that he was a fool. A fool for believing that Buffy would turn towards him, maybe even lean on him if things got rough. Instead she'd turned away, far, far away, built up her walls, pushed him away. She was far from facing the guilt she'd carried around for so long. Probably she even thought it was the punishment she'd earned for allowing herself to be with Angel again. God, the situation was a mess.

Angel turned and looked at the packed bag on his bed. He didn't want to leave. He wanted to rush to her side, offer her his chest to lean on, offer her his arms to hold her, offer her his love. But without doubt he knew she would throw it back in his face and more than anything he knew that he wouldn't be able to deal with another rejection. He felt too raw, too shaky to put up with her anger again.

It was for the best that he left, he told himself. He would go back to L.A., brood for a while, and hopefully find a way to... But no. It wasn't going to work that way. This time it was Buffy's turn to do something, it was totally up to her. She had to come to him, more, she had to see what was wrong with her and face her problems once and for all.

The fact that it was Buffy, who had to do the next move, scared him to death. The way she'd built up the walls was a sure sign that she wasn't up to any move at all. God, he couldn't lose her. There was no way he could live, knowing that there was nothing standing in their path anymore and still be separated. That would surely, slowly kill him.

A knock on his door let him snap back to reality and with more force then necessary he tore the door open.

"Buffy?" he said not quite believing his eyes.

"Angel," Buffy replied almost shyly, biting her lower lip.

"How did you find me?" he asked, inviting her with a gesture.

She stepped over the threshold, "Cordelia told me. I called her from Willow's. Joyce ran to her after..." she blushed delicately, "you know."

"I see," he said. Looking around in the sparely furnished motel-room, he smiled apologetically, "I'm sorry, I don't have any chairs to offer. If you want to sit down, you'll have to take the bed."

"No, thank you," she reclined and gave him an uncertain smile. Glancing at the bed, her eyes widened with instant panic as they fell on the packed bag. "Are you leaving?"

He watched her face for a moment, and then slowly nodded, "Yes."

"NO!" she almost shouted, coming closer to him. "You can't leave. We just found each other again."

One of his brows rose, "Oh? A short while ago it sounded quite differently. You said something about I should take my things and leave."

"I know," she replied, feeling miserable, "I know. And I'm sorry." She took another step towards him, but didn't dare to touch. "I'm sorry for what I said. I had no right to do it."

"No, you didn't," he agreed. "You hurt me. But what's worse, you hurt yourself even more."

"I know," tears were welling up in her eyes, "I was wrong. I... talked to Willow and," she wiped the first falling tear away, "and she made me see that I was wrong. She explained everything to Joyce and my daughter will come around. I know she will. Please, Angel, there's no reason to leave."

God, he wanted to take her in his arms. It broke his heart to see her like this. Pleading, desperately trying to suppress her tears, because she didn't want his pity. He wanted to hold her and make her pain go away, wanted to tell her it would all be all right, and yet, he couldn't. There was no way he could just forget what had happened only hours ago.

"No," he said, "You're wrong Buffy. There is a reason to leave. And should I have doubted it, your last words made it crystal clear. I don't have any choice but to leave."

"What?" confused she looked up to him, her hazel eyes brimming with tears. "What do you mean?"

"Only hours ago, you wanted me out of your life-"

"I told you, I'm sorry," she cried desperately. "I was wrong. I know that."

"And now you tell me it was all a big mistake, and I should just forget it. But I can't. When I came... I didn't plan to have sex with you. I thought we were going to talk, something that might have helped, although I'm not sure anymore. Then you told me about Riley and... I lost control. It was overwhelming to touch you and..." he shook his head, clearing his mind from the images that flashed through it. Buffy naked underneath him, her eyes glazed with passion, her mouth wet and swollen from his kisses.

Firmly he pushed the images away and went on, "But of course I should've known that 20 years of guilt can't just be wiped away by an hour of shared passion. That's just not possible. The moment Joyce stood in your doorway it meant nothing anymore. What we'd just shared was reduced to insignificance."

"That's not true," she protested. But her voice sounded weak and he could see that she felt the truth in his words.

He hated it. He hated being right. He wanted her to shout at him, that he was an idiot and that he'd only imagined the things that had happened. But she didn't do it. Of course not. He was right. And it hurt like hell to be right. God, how he wished he was wrong. Just this once. "You know it is," he said softly, smiling sadly at her. "You need to face your problems first, Buffy. I can't do it for you. I thought I could. Do it for you, or at least with you, but you won't let me."

"I will," she sobbed, "Angel, I learned from what happened. I won't push you away again."

So at least she knew what she'd done, he thought, and felt a small glimmer of hope. But that could only be the beginning, it was far from being enough, "I don't know that. And frankly, I don't want to test it. It almost killed me to see you turning against me after what we shared. I can't do it again. If you want there to be future for us-"

"I want. Angel, I swear, I want."

He went on as if she hadn't said it, "-you have to find a way to deal with what happened."

"But Joyce will come around. This won't be a problem anymore," she tried to argue, not caring anymore that the tears were now streaming down her cheeks.

"Maybe," he replied, giving her the sad smile she'd seen before and it broke her heart. "But at the moment I'm not strong enough to risk it. What if tomorrow Xander finds a reason we can't be together, what if next weak Marlie gives you an ultimatum to choose." He shook his head, "No, Buffy. I can't live that way, *we* cannot live like that. It would destroy us."

He took a step and closed the gap between them, and then he reached out and gently wiped her wet cheeks with his thumbs, then cupped them in his palms. "I love you," he said gently. "I loved you from the moment I saw you and that will never change."

"I love you too," she sobbed, covering his hands with hers.

He should've felt deliriously happy, but he couldn't. "I wish it was enough," he said sadly. "But it isn't. It rarely is. You have to find a way to live with your past, Buffy. And I hope to God you will. Because only then we will have a chance. If you want, that is."

"Yes, I want Angel," she assured him, still holding his hands. "I swear I want. And I promise, I'll do everything you want me to. Please don't go. Please don't leave me. I can't watch you leave again. It almost killed me the first time."

He pulled his hands away and reached for his bag, "I'm sorry, but that isn't the way it works. I'm not leaving you. You have my number. I'm just going to L.A. Buffy, you have to do this on your own. I thought I could help you, but I, better than anyone, should know that nobody can help you to forgive yourself. You have to do it. Call me when you know you can deal with it."

"Angel, please," she begged again, reaching for his arm.

He evaded her, and walked towards the door, "You're strong Buffy, the strongest person I know. You can do it. I'm counting on it."

Buffy closed her eyes, and wrapped her arms around herself. She felt cold and lonely. He wanted her to do something, she wasn't sure she could. Could she leave 20 years behind her and move on? Could she be with Angel and not feel guilty? Could she accept what was and live with it? Angel had made it perfectly clear that she had to do it, if she wanted to have a future with him.

And that was one thing she knew for certain. It was as if the incident with Joyce had opened her eyes and allowed her to see clearly for the first time in years. She wanted Angel. She still loved him and wanted him in her life. She wanted him to hold her, be with her, laugh with her and make love to her. She couldn't even imagine being without him anymore, now that she'd accepted her love for him.

She opened her eyes again when she heard an engine start outside the motel. She knew it was Angel's car; she didn't have to go to the window and look. Angel had left her. Again. But unlike 22 years ago, this time he had left the choice to her. The question now was if she was up for the challenge.

Chapter 14: ADVICE OF AN OLD FRIEND

The ringing of his doorbell disturbed Rupert Giles' evening routine of a good book and an old brandy, and he struggled to get on his feet. He felt old these days although he wasn't really that old. He had aged well, his face only showing minor wrinkles; his graying hair still sparkled with blond, his eyes still intense and not missing a thing.

Maybe it was the fact that not a lot happened these days in Sunnydale. He had to chuckle at his own thoughts when he walked down the steps and towards the door. He was still living in his old apartment, too comfortable to move, Willow had called it.

Was he actually wishing for more action? If he was honest with himself, he had to admit he did. He'd been trained to become a watcher from when he'd been very young, his whole education, his whole life had led to his destination. All the generations before him had been watchers and so there wasn't anything else he could do. Sure, he could've refused, but the supernatural had always excited and intrigued him and so he hadn't even tried to break out.

After a lifetime of excitement, after helping to avert more apocalypses he could count, it was hard to settle into a normal life. Especially if you had nobody to share it with. It was hard getting old completely on your own. Of course there were the children, now adults, including Buffy, he'd once cared for, but they had their own lives now, their own families and more to do than just care for an aging lonely man.

God, he was really getting old. Now he pitied himself. Get a hold of yourself Rupert Giles he scolded himself.

He'd been retired as a watcher when Buffy had retired ten years ago. Too old to give him a new assignment the Council had told him. He snorted. Too old.

Yeah, sure.

And pigs could fly.

He knew exactly why they hadn't assigned him to a new slayer. They didn't trust him. After the incident on Buffy's 18th birthday where he'd gone against his vows and the rules of the Council, he didn't have many friends left there. They had grudgingly accepted him back because they knew it was the only way to have at least minor control over Buffy. She had made it perfectly clear that she wouldn't accept another watcher to guide her.

They didn't trust her either. But Buffy was too good, too experienced, and too strong to lose her and so they had agreed. Then with Buffy's retirement his shares with the council had instantly lost their value and only one day after Buffy he'd been informed that they had no use for him anymore.

"Coming," he shouted, when the doorbell rang again. "Have a little patience with an old man."

He'd gone back to England at first, visited friends he hadn't seen for a long time, but after spending 25 years in the USA England just wasn't his real home anymore. So he'd returned after only six months, glad that he hadn't given up his apartment and could at least settle back into a routine. Yes, Willow was definitely right, he was too comfortable with his apartment to give it up. And why should he, it was perfect for a bachelor. Sighing he reached for the door and pulled it open.

"You're not old," Buffy said, smiling at him.

"Tell it my aching joints and back," he replied, smiling back, his eyes noticing instantly her puffy eyes. She had tried to cover it up with make-up, but it hadn't really helped. "Buffy," he greeted her. "It's so good to see you. Come in."

She followed him into his living room, and he pointed at a seat, "Sit down. Can I get you something?"

She looked around and not seeing the usual Brandy on the table, she frowned, "Am I disturbing you?"

"No," he replied, "I took the Brandy and the book upstairs for a change. Hence the long wait at the door. But I'm happy to see you."

Buffy nodded and took a seat, "I'd like to have soda or whatever you have," she told him, then added, "I've quit alcohol, you know."

He didn't turn, but Buffy could hear the smile in his voice when said, "So I've heard."

She raised a brow, "You have?"

"Yes," he confirmed coming back with a coke for her and another Brandy for himself, "Xander was here yesterday," he rolled his eyes. "Obviously Anya has been telling the twins about a certain demon and now they didn't want to believe it really existed. He needed a book to prove it."

Buffy laughed, "I can imagine that. That's so like Anya. Well, I suppose even after more than 20 years it's difficult to completely forget what you've done for more than 11 centuries." Her laughter vanished when she realized what she'd said. Forgetting things. Moving on. Yeah, it sounded so easy. And was so hard.

"I guess you're right," Giles agreed. "How are you, Buffy?" he asked then, sipping from his drink.

She shrugged, and frowned, "Fine. Peachy. Joyce still isn't talking to me. I've made a mess of my life and hurt a person I love more than anything. But at least I haven't had a drink for more than a weak. Does that count as a success? I hope it does. Oh, and did I tell you that I lately met the ghost of my dead mother?"

Giles' eyes widened with sudden interest, "Really? You saw your mother? How did she look? Do you know why she came to you?"

Buffy groaned, "Giles! Could we please *not* talk about my mother. Gee, 'how does she look'? She's a ghost for God's sake. She looks like..." she gestured with her hands, "... like a ghost. The way she looked just before she died."

"But it is really fascinating. Appearances of late relatives. There are entire books that deal with that special-"

"No," Buffy said sharply, glaring at him. "I'm really not interested in hearing it. I'm not denying that ghosts exist. I was the slayer remember. I've met more ghosts I can count. My mother's ghost appearing in my apartment is just one more wacky thing in my wacky life." Feeling a sudden tightness in her throat, she swallowed hard and blinked threatening tears away. "My life really sucks beyond belief. I thought when I left all the slayer-stuff behind me, I could start living like a normal person, but it doesn't work. It gets more complicated every day."

Giles watched her, saw her struggle to keep her composure, and then said simply, "It's Angel, isn't it?" Her startled gaze flew to his and he smiled gently, "I know that he's human. I also know that he came to Sunnydale to see you."

Her eyes narrowed, "And how do you know that? And more importantly how long did you know it?"

"That he is human? About five months," he replied, sipping from his Brandy again.

"Five months?" she echoed in disbelief. "And... and why didn't you tell me?"

"Because it wasn't my place to tell. Wesley told me when he called because he needed my advice for dealing with a demon. He mentioned that they needed more information because Angel wasn't a vampire anymore. Frankly I was stunned, I had never heard of something like this before. But obviously they found a prophecy many years ago about the vampire with a soul. It said that if he would be able to overcome several challenges he would be rewarded with his humanity."

"So you knew it all along and didn't tell me?," Buffy said, still feeling slightly dazed at the new information. Giles had known. And she hadn't.

"Buffy, you just lost your husband. You were in no shape to deal with that kind of information," Giles said gently. "And besides. As I already told you, it wasn't my place. The only person who could tell you was Angel."

"This makes me so sick!" Buffy shouted suddenly, jumped up from the seat and began to pace, her arms waving wildly through the air. "Why do people always decide what's good for me? I'm forty years old. How come nobody seems to notice that I'm a grown adult? I have three kids. One of them almost grown herself, for God's sake." She stopped and glared at him.

"Buffy I already-"

"Yeah, yeah," she said impatiently and started to pace again. "It was Angel's place to tell. I've heard you." And then it hit her and she stopped dead in tracks, "Prophecy?" she said, stepping closer to Giles, her eyes never leaving his. "What do mean there was a prophecy about him turning human? What prophesy? And when did he find it?"

Giles leaned back in his seat and eyed the angry woman in front of him. She looked hardly like 40. More like 30, maybe not even that. They had tried to find out what had slowed her aging progress, especially after the doctors had confirmed that physically she wasn't even close to 40. Although she'd fought and been hurt more times he could count, her joints were flawless, her muscles strong and her inner organs in perfect shape.

"The prophecy," he said after a moment of consideration, "was part of the Scroll of Aberijan. I already told you what it said. Wesley translated it. He wasn't sure about the meaning of the word 'Shanshu' at first, but after awhile he realized it meant 'life'. They found it by accident at the end of Angel's first year in L.A."

Buffy stared at him, as if she couldn't comprehend his words, then her eyes watering, she whispered, "His first year?"

"Yes," Giles confirmed. "That's what Wesley told me.""You know too?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes, Wesley contacted me to translate the word 'Shanshu', or rather to confirm what he'd already translated. He wanted to be certain."

"And you two decided again that little Buffy was not fit to know, right?" Her voice sounded bitter and up to a certain agree, Giles thought she had a right to be. He had often wondered if he should've told her, but whenever he had contemplated the idea of telling her, he hadn't been able to go through with it.

"Buffy," he said gently and reached out to take her hand, but she evaded him and stepped back. He sighed, she was angry. But this was Buffy, and anything but anger and hurt would've been  a surprise. "Again. It wasn't my place to tell you. But even if it had been. Nobody, I repeat, nobody had any idea if the prophecy was correct or even if it was, *when* it was going to happen. What would you have gained by knowing about it? Would you have stopped living your own mortal life, waiting for something that might not happen at all? No," he said firmly, "I couldn't let that happen. I loved you too much to let you throw your life away for a dream that nobody knew would come true. And so did Angel."

Buffy turned away from him and staggered to the counter that separated his living room from the kitchenette. Angel. Angel hadn't told her either. He hadn't felt she should know.

Oh God.

Her hands gripped the wooden surface and she held it so hard that her knuckles turned white. Absentmindedly she noticed that she was still wearing Riley's wedding ring. She hadn't taken it off for more than 18 years. Riley. Would she have married him had she known? Had Angel given her the opportunity to know? She had married Riley because she had felt hopeless and lonely, but with the knowledge that Angel might turn human one day, there would have been hope. Vague, granted, but still hope. There would've been something to look forward to.

Maybe she wouldn't have married Riley and spared him the life with a woman who hadn't been able to really love him. She would've spent the last 20 years on her own, but would that really have been so bad, she wondered?

She started when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She'd been so wrapped up in her thoughts that she hadn't heard Giles coming up behind her. "Would you really like to change the last 20 years?" he asked softly. "Would you like to rewind the years and spend the time alone instead? Believe me, Buffy, being independent, alone, is highly overrated. Loneliness isn't a nice thing.

'Loneliness is the scariest thing.'

Angel's words from so long ago came to her mind, and she took a deep breath. Would she have been able to be on her own for so long? Well maybe not completely on her own. She could've had one or two lovers. Nothing special, just a man to spend a few nice hours with, to fill... the loneliness.

"And think about your children, Buffy. You wouldn't have them if it weren't for the last 20 years. Would you like to turn that back too? Would you like to live your life without Joyce, without Ben, without Marlie? Would you really want that? Ask yourself, Buffy. And when you know, tell me again."

Giles let go of her and she could hear him walk back to his chair and sit down. Joyce, Ben and Marlie. God, she'd almost forgotten about them. Her children. Her wonderful, beloved kids. Of course she couldn't imagine her life without them. Not for one moment she wanted to picture that scenario. It hurt enough to see Joyce turning away from her. Hating her. Well, maybe not hating, hating her, but her daughter was definitely angry. According to Willow she would come around, but it hurt nevertheless.And suddenly she realized what was Giles telling her without words. It was a gift of love. Only a man who loved her would be able to sacrifice his own happiness, his own dreams for her sake. She suddenly thought of Angel, knowing all he did, knowing that he might be human one day, but still letting her go, move on with her own life, marrying another, having the other man's kids.

A picture flashed through her mind. Angel was kneeling in front of her, looking at her and whispering, "you didn't love him".

Tears sprang to her eyes, the sudden emotion threatening to overwhelm her. She pressed a hand in front of her mouth not to cry out in sudden agony. Yes, he hadn't told and yes, she hadn't asked him for this sacrifice. Still, he had done it. Unselfishly, because he loved her.

All those years she had had a husband, a family, children, while Angel had nothing. While he was experiencing the loneliness he feared so much. Only now she understood what he'd done. She still didn't like the fact that he'd kept important things from her, but now she could understand.

Slowly she turned back to Giles and wiped the tears from her cheeks, "I... I understand," she said, trying a shaky smile. "At least I think I do. And I'm not angry anymore."

His eyes were warm, when he smiled back at her, "That's good. You're a smart woman, Buffy. You were a smart girl back then. Besides. All this is long over and done. Believe an old man, and don't tell me again, I'm not old, because I feel old, really, really old."

They laughed both, and although Buffy's laughter was slightly wobbly, it was genuine. "When you're my age," Giles continued, "You know that life is short and that the only real regrets you have are for those things you haven't done. I often regret that I never got the chance to tell Jenny I loved her. I'm almost certain she knew anyway," he chuckled, his eyes far away, remembering. "She always teased me because I was so shy. But knowing it or not, it would have been nice to tell her."

"Yes," Buffy nodded. "I can understand that. I never told Riley I loved him. I'll always regret that too."

"Did you?"

"What?" she asked confused.

"Love him," Giles clarified, "Because telling somebody you love him is a serious matter. Especially if the person you're saying it to is your husband or your lover. It's different to say I love you to a friend like Willow than it is to a husband. It has a completely different meaning."

Buffy sighed deeply, "That's the whole problem," she said then, walking back to the table and reclaiming her seat. "Ever since Riley died I can't get over the feeling that I've run out of time. He loved me so much, gave me so much, and I... I..."

"You couldn't give him back the same?" Giles asked gently.

"Yeah," she admitted, releasing a breath. She bit her lower lip for a moment, then took her glass and sipped. "I tried. I really tried. But it just," she shrugged, "didn't happen, I guess. Mom once said you can't force love and I suppose she was right. I did like Riley though. I liked him a lot. I even loved him, just not... they way a wife is supposed to love her husband."

"Says who?" he asked.

She shrugged again, "Me, I suppose. I have this big guilt-fest going on inside of me. And I just can't find a way to get over it. But if I can't, I can't have Angel either."

"Either?" Giles raised his brows, "Now you've lost me somewhere. What does Angel have to do with your guilt?"

"He said that I had to find a way to deal with it or..." she sighed, "As I already told you. Angel came to my apartment."

"A week ago? Yes, you said that."

"Yeah, and I shouted at him. Giles, I couldn't even look at him. He was standing there in the sunlight and was the embodiment of all my dreams of all the things I could have. But Riley was dead and he would never have the chance to be loved that way. Because I married him without love, because I took away his chance to meet the one girl who might have loved him like he should've been loved."

"Whoa," the former watcher held up a hand. "Not so fast, Buffy. Are you listening to yourself? What do you mean you took it away from Riley? Riley was a grown man. A legal adult, older than you, who decided to marry you. You didn't force him, Buffy. You didn't hold a gun to his head and force him to the altar. On the contrary, he couldn't wait to become your husband. I met him throughout the years, and not once did I see him unhappy. He loved you Buffy. And the day you became his wife was his very best day."

"But-"

"No buts," Giles said firmly. "He left you before, do you remember? He accused you not to loving him the way he loved you. Do you think when he came back he thought that had miraculously changed? Do you really think that? Because I don't. I think he married you knowing that you didn't love him the way he loved you and he married you anyway. Buffy, just because you experienced the real thing that once-in-lifetime-love with Angel it doesn't mean other people do. There are hundreds of couples out there, happy couples, who don't love each other the way you and Angel do."

Buffy didn't miss that he had the present tense when talking about Angel and she. "You think he knew? And that he didn't mind?"

"I didn't say that. I'm sure he did mind. He would've been an idiot and inhuman if he didn't mind. Sure, you want the woman you love to love you back the same way. But I think, he accepted it. Accepted that you weren't able to love him the way you loved Angel. And he was content. Angel wasn't a threat. He was a vampire. A vampire with a very shaky soul. Maybe," Giles hesitated for a moment, then went on, "maybe he even felt safe the way it was."

"Safe?"

"Yeah. I know it's not nice to talk bad about dead people, and it's really not my intention and I'm not even sure if Riley ever consciously thought about it. My guess would be no. But, you always felt a bit guilty because you couldn't give Riley the same feelings you gave Angel. That was his best guarantee that you'd never leave him. You felt obligated."

"I did," Buffy confirmed after a moment of considering his words. But I'm with you about the conscious thing. Riley never thought about it. He just wasn't the type for it."

"I agree," Giles nodded, reached out and covered her hand with his, "Buffy, there is absolutely no reason to feel guilty. You should feel guilty if you had lied to him, but you never did. Besides, Riley had 18 years with you. Don't you think he got what he wanted? He choose you, because he loved you. If he wanted another woman, he'd have been free to leave you. He even did once. But then he came back. It was his decision." He frowned suddenly, "I still don't quite understand the connection between Angel and your guilt."

She sighed again, "Well, after I threw Angel out of my apartment that first day, he kept coming back, first at the hospital, where he charmed Marlie, then at the park where Ben fell for him. He persuaded me to invite him to dinner. No, that's not quite right. I invited him. He just said we should have dinner together some day. Anyways, he came to dinner and it was nice. So we decided to see each other again. We did and he said something that made me very, very angry. I ran away."

She chuckled, "Look at me, I'm a mother and forty years old but I bolted from a simple question. Afterwards I felt bad for behaving that way and called him. He came this morning and we... uh," she blushed, "... well, you know."

Giles' brows shot up, "You slept with him?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah," Buffy admitted on another chuckle. "But that wasn't the problem. I didn't regret doing it. In fact I liked it. A lot."

"That's good then, that you... er... liked it."The ex-slayer had to laugh, hearing him stutter, seeing him blush furiously, "Yeah, that's good. I agree. But what's not so good was that my teenage daughter suddenly stood in the middle of the bedroom, finding me and Angel stark naked - and together - in bed."

"Oh dear," Giles said, shaking his head. "That must have been quite a shock."

"It was. And I freaked. Joyce looked so angry, so shocked, that all that guilt came back in a rush. I ordered Angel to leave. He begged me to think about it, to talk to him, to let him help, to not push him away, but guess what. I didn't listen. Later, I finally caught on that I royally screwed up and tried to apologize. I think he even accepted it. Still, he left and went back to L.A."

"He left?"

"Yes. He said that I had to sort out my feelings first. I tried to argue with him, tried to explain, but he didn't believe me and now I'm thinking he's right. He said that he wouldn't be able to stand me turning against him again. And I can understand him now. He said I had to find a way to forgive myself. Because otherwise we had no future."

"He's a very wise man," Giles said approvingly.

"Piece of cake," Buffy replied, sipping from her drink. "The guy's more than 250 years old. He had time enough to get wise." She sighed deeply, "But I think I understand now what he meant. I need to get straight with Joyce first. Then with my own feelings. I'm still confused although our talk helped me to see many things a lot clearer. But one thing I know for sure. I want Angel. And I will find a way to get him back. To make him see that I'm worth a risk."

The ex-watcher smiled warmly, "I never doubted it. And I guess, neither doesAngel. He loves you Buffy. That was never a question."

Buffy felt a sudden moistness in her eyes and blinked, "Thanks, Giles."

"For what?" he asked.

"For forgiving him. For being able to see beyond his demon that took the woman you loved. You know, if I'd had a chance in choosing my father, I'd have taken you."

Now the moistness was in his eyes.

Go to Part 15