Spoilers: Season four (and Season one of A:TS)
Distribution: Ask=get
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and all his cronies own everything.
Rating: PG
Feedback: Please, please. Oh, and please.
Note: Silliness only here. Read on if you like that sort of thing.

"So, we're still friends, right?" Riley asked anxiously.

"Of course," Buffy reassured him.

"Okay. Well, I should get going."

He hugged her tightly, then left, and as she closed the door behind him, she sat on her bed with a sigh.

"I guess that's how break-ups usually go," she said to herself. "The gut wrenching horror isn't as commonplace as I had imagined."

She pulled her hair out of her barrette and let it tumble around her shoulders. "I wonder what I should do now," she mused, stretching her arms over her head.

"That depends entirely on you," a lilting but muffled voice came from her closet.

Slayer senses suddenly alert, Buffy jumped up warily. "Who's in there? I'm armed!"

"I know. Calm down. I'm here to help," her visitor replied.

The door opened.

And Buffy bit her lip to keep from laughing.

The diminutive woman who stepped out was swathed in what looked like nothing more than a great deal of extremely glittery (not to mention poofy) gauze. One of her iridescent wings was caught in one of Buffy's hangers, and a delicate wand was jammed behind her ear.

"Be right with you." With a tremendous wrench, she pulled free of the hanger and fully emerged out into the room.

"Who are you?" Buffy asked.

"Promise not to laugh."

"What?"

"Just promise."

Buffy shrugged. "I promise."

The woman pulled her wand free and sank into a small curtsy. "Buffy Anne Summers, I am your fairy godmother."

*****************************************

"So, where ya been?" Buffy asked with a slight edge to her voice.

Doris took a sip from her coke before she answered. "Look, I know you've had it rough. I've read your file. But fairy godmothers don't just come when there's misery. You think Cinderella was happy when her mother died? You think she liked washing clothes? Of course not. Our job is not easing suffering. You're not really miserable right now, anyway."

"No, I'm not," Buffy admitted. "So why are you here?"

"Well, you finally got off the waiting list, for one thing. But the real reason I came to you is because of your need."

"My need?"

"It's been growing for years now, and it's my job to make sure it's fulfilled. So, what do you need?"

Buffy looked at her. "You've read my file, but you can't figure it out?"

Doris laughed. It gave her another chin. "Okay, so you need the nice vampire. How do you want to get him?"

"Isn't it your job to figure that out?" Buffy asked.

"Well, there must be dozens of ways to make him yours, but just because I *can* do something doesn't mean it's the best way. Technically, I could make slavery legal and you could purchase him, which would make him yours, but that really isn't the best way to go about it."

Buffy nodded. "Right. Well, I'd say make him human, but I don't think that would work."

"Why not?"

"Oh, lots of reasons. He'd be more easily damaged, he'd have to give up his agency, and I think he actually enjoys his job. Besides," she smiled, "I like his cold skin."

"Naughty girl," Doris noted. "I take it you don't want to become a vampire?"

"No, one per relationship is good enough. Plus, I don't want to lose my reflection, and it that's shallow, so be it."

"Wait! I have an idea!" Doris said suddenly. "It's just crazy enough to work! Do you have any objections against being young forever?"

"Not if I'm with Angel. What did you have in mind?"

"Well, it's entirely possible that you could, yourself, become a fairy godmother."

Buffy gave her a look indicating just how little she thought of Doris's sanity.

"Here's my thought- you already help the needy. Who has a stronger need than someone about to get bitten by a vampire? You wouldn't have to go through training, even. You might have to do a little nominal wish granting, go to a seminar once in awhile, but for the most part, you'd just go on doing what you already do."

Buffy considered.

"Would I have to wear glitter?"

Doris sighed. "No. No wings, either. But they would most likely give you a wand."

Buffy grinned. "Cool!"

"Indeed."

Then Buffy's face fell, lower than it had been before. "But Angel's soul is still an issue. Like always."

Doris clucked in disappointment. "Don't you read fairy tales? If a fairy godmother can make glass slippers suitable for a night of dancing, I can certainly fix a silly Gypsy screw-up. Come on, let's-"

*****************************************

"-go," she finished, as they appeared in Angel's office.

"Can I just say, your wand is awesome," Buffy complimented her.

"Thank you, my dear. Now, where's your young man?"

That was when Angel walked out of his office.

And froze.

"Buffy," he said in a quietly shocked voice. "And-"

"Doris," the fairy beamed up at him. "I'm here to fix you."

"Fix me?"

"Your soul," Buffy explained.

"I'm not evil," he protested.

"We know, my good man. But we want to make sure it won't happen again. Now, if you will stand there, Buffy and I want to take a good look at your soul. You won't be able to see it, but please keep still."

And she waved her wand.

"Oh, my," Doris breathed.

"Ditto," Buffy echoed.

It didn't exactly look like him, but it was him. It was fiery and pure and complicated and unspeakably beautiful. It was fierce and strong, strengthened by torment, but it was so gentle and tender as to make tears spring into the fairy's eyes. The most noticeable aspect, however, was how strongly his soul was straining towards Buffy, and Doris realized it had always been so. If she had done a spell to look at the Slayer's soul, she was sure it would be acting in a similar manner.

"No wonder you two love each other so much," Doris said with vigor.

"What do we have to do?" Buffy asked.

"We just need to see where exactly his soul is attached- Oh, for Pity's sake!" she said suddenly, her face a mask of disgust.

"What?" Angel asked, worried by her expression. "What's wrong?"

"Gypsies," she spat out. "At least, this particular tribe. I can't believe even they would do something this awful. You know, I have tried to be tolerant, to be accepting of other brands of magic, but this is foolish maliciousness."

"It's not like I didn't deserve it," Angel pointed out.

Doris ignored him. "To be so obsessed with revenge that they can't differentiate between punishing the soul and punishing the demon! And to attach it in such a haphazard fashion, no less."

"You mean because of the happiness clause?" Buffy asked.

Doris rolled her eyes. "There is no happiness clause."

Buffy stared at her in shock. "But-"

"Oh, if you slept with him right now he'd lose his soul, but not from any mysterious clause. That would be far too complicated. Buffy, look at where his soul is attached."

Buffy looked closely, trying to determine where exactly his soul was moored. "His chest?"

"His heart!" Doris exploded. "They attached his soul to his heart!"

Buffy looked at her blankly.

Taking a deep breath, Doris tried to explain. "A human's soul is attached to each and every piece of them, to every molecule and every atom and every nucleon that makes their physical form. When a part of your body is cut off or cut out or just stops working, the soul detaches from that part, but remains fused with the rest of you. That is why someone in a coma doesn't die- their brain ceases to function, but their soul can't detach from anything else. Only death, of every part, releases the soul. Therefore, vampires do not have souls, because their bodies are dead.

'The gypsies knew that. So when they gave Angel his soul back, they didn't bother to do the work to tie the soul to his entire body. They stuck it on his heart, which is the most precarious link in the body. And they knew it."

"I don't understand," Buffy admitted. "Don't the heart and soul have a lot to do with each other? Hence the song?"

"That's not really the issue. Think about it- what happens to someone's heart when they are happy? It swells, at least metaphysically. It bursts and ignites and feels totally free. A happy heart is, one might say, untouchable, right?"

Buffy well remembered that feeling. "Right."

"So how can a soul possibly hold on?" Doris asked.

Comprehension hit hard, and Buffy gritted her teeth to keep from yelling.

"Not all gypsies have the same M.O., but this is the outside of enough. But don't worry. I, your fairy godmother, am here, and I am going to fix everything."

"How?" Buffy asked eagerly.

"Lucretia of Sansfrein's curse screening spell," Doris replied.

"Come again?" Buffy asked.

"Would you like some backstory?" Doris asked.

"I wouldn't mind," Angel replied, still a bit hard to see through the glittering splendor of his soul.

"Lucretia of Sansfrein was married to a powerful but extremely evil sorcerer," Doris began. "Goodness knows she loved him, but it was indeed a hardship to see him forever hexing the inhabitants of their kingdom.

'Lucretia set about finding out a way to lessen the effects of his curses, and her screening spell was the result. It's a miracle, really. She set up a permanent version, and every time her husband sent out a curse, it would have to go through her spell first. Her spell which, I realize now, I have not yet explained, adapts curses and turns them into blessings."

"How?" Buffy asked.

"It's a bit complicated, but it is based on the assumption that everything evil is merely a perversion of something originally good. Everything maintains some good part, or it could not exist- suffice it to say that philosophers have been covering the topic for centuries. Lucretia's screen, once set up, cannot cancel out a spell, but it changes it, leeching out the evil intent until it is not only safe, but beneficial.

'Perhaps I can give you an example...oh, the preacher. There was a man in Sansfrein who was exhorting the people to rise up against the sorcerer. Not that they could have won, but the sorcerer found him irritating, and formulated a curse that would make him mute. The curse went through Lucretia's screen, and the man went completely mute- but only in his sleep. His wife, who was on the verge of going insane from his snoring, returned to happiness and health, which in turn made the preacher's quality of life improve.

'In fact, Lucretia's screen was so effective, that the sorcerer's curses-turned-blessings became a boon for the people he was attempting to dominate. The populace, thinking that he had reformed and decided to be their benevolent liege, became fiercely loyal and even defended his castle against invaders.

'So, let's see if the screen can't help here as well."

Doris fluttered her wings, sending a shower of glitter to the floor, took a firm grip on her wand, and smiled. "This should be good."

She jabbed her wand in Angel's direction.

And he started laughing.

"It tickles," he gasped, and Buffy watched as his soul seemed to expand around him. Golden tendrils wound around him, sinking into his skin and taking root all over his body.

For a moment, he glowed bright himself, and then the light dissipated, and Doris clapped her hands with delight.

"Wonderful! Okay, Buffy, let's go."

"Wait, you're leaving?" Angel asked, trying to be disinterested but sounding decidedly plaintive.

"She'll be back. First, she has a job interview."

Then both women disappeared.

*****************************************

The office was bright and cheerful, and Buffy was a bit surprised to find copies of Vogue and Good Housekeeping next to the waiting room chairs.

"Waiting rooms are waiting rooms," Doris explained.

The receptionist had shimmering antennae, but she smiled brightly. "Do you have an appointment, Doris?"

"No, she's my current charge. Is Francis busy?"

"Go in. I think he might be expecting you anyway."

Buffy followed Doris into an office marked 'Boss'. Inside, a thin man with white hair was waiting at a large mahogany desk. Looking up, he smiled.

"Hello, Buffy. Are you sure you want to be an F.G.?"

"A wha-? Oh, Fairy Godmother. Yes, if you have an opening."

"Why?"

She realized that 'because I want to spend centuries loving my boyfriend' was not a suitable response.

"It will make me a better slayer," she finally answered.

He looked at Doris. "Boyfriend?"

"Cute and repaired," she grinned.

Francis opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a thin book. He tossed it to Buffy.

"That's the handbook. Read it."

Walking over to a closet, he pulled out a dusty box and gingerly opened the lid. Rummaging around for a minute, he finally pulled out a wand, then shoved the box back in.

"Here is your wand. Speech speech, responsibility blah blah blah, don't use it to get out of homework or I'll have to write you up and it's boring. Welcome to the team. Doris, can I take you to lunch?"

Doris pulled Buffy into a quick hug. "Good luck, my dear. When you arrive back on Earth, you'll have an innate knowledge of everything your wand can do. I'll probably see you at the company picnic."

"Doris, thank you so-"

*****************************************

"-much," Buffy finished, as she reappeared in Angel Investigations.

The knowledge of the power of her wand overwhelmed her for a moment, and then she smiled.

"Honey, I'm home!" she called out.

Angel walked out of his office with a hopeful look on his face.

"So. Here I am, immortal and lonely and thinking that 98.6 degree boyfriends are passe. What's Buffy the fairy godmother to do?"

He smiled.

She ran at him then, dropping her handbook and wand on the way.

"Gray skies are gonna clear up, put on a happy face," she sang.

And then she proceeded to work some magic.

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