Rating: Varies
Disclaimer: Don’t own ‘em, because if I did, believe you me, a lot would be different
Spoilers: None, really. Perhaps your fondness for my fanfiction if this sucks.
Summary: This is going to be a multichapter story about characters from the JossVerse 5 years after “Chosen.” For the purposes of “my story my rules” Willow is straight, Cordy is up and at ‘em and has resolved her feelings for Angel, and there is no Conner (because I just couldn’t fit him into the story.) Don’t know where the tv show is going, but Fred is fine, thank you very much. And somewhere in the Midwest, a lovely young mother named Brenda gets swept away by someone who looks remarkably like Pierce Brosnan and showers her with Kate Spade purses and Manalos. But I digress. An earlier story, Who Knew, might be considered a prequel to this, but this story does stand alone.
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~Part: 1~
“One-horned demon of Candascean descent….” Willow read the notation before looking at the accompanying sketch. “I don’t see a horn, maybe this is the wrong…..” She squinted, looking closer. “Oh. I didn’t think that was a horn. Heh.” She placed the book back down on the bed and made a few notes in her laptop. She stopped typing to look up over the rim of her glasses, grinning as the shiver tickled up her spine. Measured footsteps sounded in the hallway, slowly ambling towards her suite. She held her breath as the door slowly opened and Angel grinned in at her, propping himself up in the doorframe.
“Luuuuucccccyyyyyyy, I’m home.”
Willow grinned, putting the laptop aside and leaping off the bed; racing to him and leaping up to throw her arms around his neck. Startled, he staggered back slightly with an ‘oomph’ and caught her, his hands cupped under her ass as her legs wrapped around his waist. She wiggled her eyebrows at him and kissed him with a loud smack, feeling the chuckle deep in his chest.
“Wow. I need to come home more often.” He crossed the room and plopped down in the huge overstuffed chair she had brought with her from New York. Willow leaned in and pressed her lips to his forehead before pulling back to grin at him. He loved this particular grin. Part goofy, part sprite.
“Sooooo……this is HOME now. Hah. I knew it. A few days here and all those grumbles and whines just disappear.”
“I do not whine.”
Willow leaned into him, pressing her face into the strong curve of his throat. She sighed with contentment and leaned back again.
“Dinner?”
“I passed Fred downstairs. She said something about Shepherds’ Pie. It’s like…a meal that shepherds like, right? I mean no actual shepherds were harmed…”
Willow laughed out loud, climbing off his lap. “No, no shepherds were harmed. C’mon, I wanna talk to Fred about this program….” And she led him out of the room, chatting about the transcription she was working on for Wesley. They ambled down the front stairs, and Angel listened, smiling slightly. He had thought of Willow by his side for the last few weeks, but nothing he thought of came close to the reality.
They had fallen into an easy pattern quickly. The skirmishes had been few. Few but feisty. Willow had put her foot down and refused to move into the Wolfram and Hart penthouse suite where he lived. She was surprised to learn that Angel had kept the Hyperion, and had put money into fixing it up and maintaining it. Cordelia had lived there for a while, after she awoke from her coma. For almost a year, in fact, till she left and moved to Maine. Willow knew there was a story there, but Angel wasn’t talking.
He hadn’t been happy about Willow’s decision to move into the Hyperion and pointed out patiently that he wanted her nearby so he could look after her. She pointed out less patiently that his knuckles were scraping the floor again and she thought the truth was that he was to lazy to drive all the way across town for a bootie call. That had sealed it; within an hour after that argument he had shown up at the Hyperion, glowering and towing two massive suitcases, slamming them down on the bed in the room she had chosen, telling her to NOT EVEN THINK about asking him to take a different room. She had agreed and teased the scowl off his face before he knew what hit him.
They strolled down into the lobby and down the short back hallway to the kitchens. Angel grinned, looking at Willow’s softly swaying ass with great appreciation as they entered the kitchen only to stop short; the grin bleeding away to be replaced by a black frown as he looked up and across the room.
“Spike. What the hell are you doing here?”
Spike and Angel had reached a sort of détente over the last few years. They had actually fought side by side more than once, and although Angel would never admit it to anyone, Spike was the first one he called when the danger was great. Angel couldn’t figure that one out. Either he and Spike had moved beyond petty differences…..or he was just hoping Spike would get killed. He would never be ok with Spike, but he didn’t actively want to kill him, either. Till he saw him standing in the Hyperion kitchen. In the same room as Willow.
Spike grinned from the barstool at the kitchenbar. He hoisted a bottle of beer in Willow’s direction. “Came to pay my respects. Heard Red was in town and all settled in.” And it was a cheap and easy way to annoy you, you git. He grinned as he raised the bottle to his lips. Willow caught his eyes and grinned slightly, shaking her head as she crossed to him and hugged him to her.
“My hero.” She whispered into his ear, pulling back and giving him a sweet smile. He met her gaze a little unsettled; one small sniff had him leaping off the barstool and taking a step back. Incredulous, he turned to Angel.
“You CLAIMED her? You claimed HER? YOU claimed her?” Willow rolled her eyes and walked to the refrigerator, opening it to pull out a thermos and a bottle of water.
“Yes, Spikey, it’s a done deal. He came, he saw, I moved, end of story.” She poured a measure of blood into a mug and popped it into the microwave to warm. Turning to face Spike, she opened the bottle of water and waved it in his direction. “I know what I’m doing.”
Spike looked back and forth between the two of them, shaking his head. “Turn my back for a minute…..”
The microwave beeped and Angel crossed to it, still stewing. Willow shot him a glance and stood across the bar from Spike.
“So….what are you up to? You’ve been here a while…what do you do?”
Spike lifted his bottle to his lips and mumbled something before looking away. Willow leaned in a little.
“Sorry….didn‘t get that.”
Spike sighed and slammed his beer down on the counter. “I said I’m head of security at Wolfram and Hart. That’s right, have your little laugh. I’m gainfully employed. Just don’t let that get about. I have a reputation, you know.” Disgusted, he picked up the beer bottle and took a long swig, looking away. Willow looked at Angel and he shrugged his shoulders, looking down into his mug. Willow smiled to herself.
Silence filled the kitchen, and suddenly, Spike spoke, in a hurry to change the subject. “But hey enough about me. What are you going to do here?”
Willow, grinned, feeling excitement pour through her. “Oh, this is so great. I got a job!” she ignored Angel’s soft snort. “I was hired to research for the Sherwood Estate Library.” Spike looked at her blankly. “It’s one of the most prestigious collections of books chronicling demonology. It’s massive! I started last Wednesday.”
“That was quick.” Spike commented.
“Yeah. I had an in. You know that Wesley is the curator.”
Spike grinned to himself; that had to piss off Angel mightily.
Wesley had left Wolfram and Hart about the time Cordelia had left town. Quickly finding a new position with the library, Wesley and Fred had moved into a small apartment near his job. Despite his differences with Angel, Fred still worked at WandH and it had worked out. Kind of.
Willow working for Wesley rubbed Angel the wrong way. He had offered her several different positions with WandH, but she was adamant; she wouldn’t work there. Another feisty skirmish. Angel had come close to tearing his hair out over that one. Willow stood her ground calmly. Angel backed off, knowing how bad the job market was and figuring that she’d come to him in a few weeks, begging him to take her in at the office. He’d be magnanimous and not gloat. All would be well. Instead, the very next day she had breezed into his office, wanting to take him to lunch to celebrate her new job. Angel had followed her out of the office all angry and fired the first person he saw, a guy just standing at the elevator, waiting for the car. Willow shot Angel a look of fire and he rolled his eyes, clapping the poor terrified man on the back and booming out with fake sincerity, “Hey, just jokin’.”
That had led to a huge fight that evening. Followed by him apologizing. And then having great big sex. Angel didn’t know if he’d ever get the hang of this relationship thing. His track record was pretty crappy. But then, he’d never had a Willow Rosenberg to stand up to him before. She was kind of scary sometimes. To HIM…the scourge of Europe.
She wasn’t intimidated by him in the least. Moving into her knew life, she was confident and calm. Like when she told him that Fred and Wesley were moving in. He was enraged; she was serene. She serenely told him to go fuck himself, but to do it on the sofa since he wasn’t coming to bed with her. That had been an all-nighter. Angel grinned just thinking about it.
Willow looked at him and he turned his grin on her. She stared at him and then blushed, knowing exactly what he was thinking. She squirmed a little before turning in relief to the door as Fred burst in, waving her hands as she trotted to the large oven.
“Sorry, sorry…..I got trapped in a phone call from hell.” Angel straightened and she glanced up at him. “Metaphor, Angel.” And Angel relaxed against the counter. “Some guy from Pakistan…” She peered into the oven “who has a scroll that he wants us to take immediately. He said, and I quote, The Three will join and defeat the One...” Her brow wrinkled as she thought. “Or it may have been The Tree will moan and reheat the nun.. But that really doesn’t make sense….”She reached into the oven and pulled out the pie, setting it on the counter and turning to Angel. “He wants me to call him back later. The connection was really bad.”
Angel nodded. “After dinner.” He leaned over Fred’s shoulder, looking at the pie. “About the pie….there’s not really…I mean you didn’t use actual…”
~Part: 2~
Willow loved the mornings at the Sherwood. Quiet and a little musty, the old mansion housed one of the world’s preeminent collections of Demonology, Mythology, Prophecy, and Spells and Incantations. She walked along one of the walls of the main room, furnished, as Angel called it, in Early Tweed. The mammoth room was lined, floor to ceIling, in polished oak bookshelves, the top rows accessible by way of a stairway to a balcony halfway up the stacks. Old scarred leather chairs and floral upholstered divans grouped about the room, making Willow think that this is what the Gentlemen’s Clubs of Victorian England must have been like.
She settled her glasses (Nerd Frames, tmSpike) on her nose and looked along one row for a particular book….not here….not here….there it was. She pulled it off and carted it out to gently set it on one of the long gleaming library tables that dotted the room. Settling down, she opened it and began scanning the contents.
She smiled briefly and leaned back in her chair, a little distracted. This always brought back Sunnydale High for her. The hours in the library with Giles and Buffy and Xander. The constant fear of being killed or turned. The secret life her parents never even knew about. It was both awesome and terrible, and she didn’t know how she ever thought that she could function happily out of that frame.
Wesley paused in the doorway, his eyes intent on her. He cleared his throat and grinned slightly as she started and sat up.
“Woolgathereing?”
Willow grinned back. “Happy gathering. This all seems so right. Like a plan.” Wesley strolled to the table and took a seat opposite her. “This is all good, Wesley. I’m glad I’m here.”
“Well, I must say that there is something almost…providential…about your arrival. I needed someone to work with me, and the candidates for this job are few and far between. Not only do I get someone well versed in the vernacular, I get you.”
Willow grinned and closed the book. “So….how’s life with Fred?”
“Interesting.” Wesley looked down briefly, a satisfied grin curving his lips. “Over drinks sometime, when I’ve had several and am no longer in control of my faculties,” Willow giggled. “I’ll have to tell you the story of Fred. It’s a story fraught with danger, adventure, romance, and the occasional psychotic episode.”
Willow nodded seriously. “I hate it when that happens.” A thought occurred to her. “Hey, did she ever get back in touch with that guy from Pakistan last night?”
“No. She tried, several times, but no one answered the ring. Ah well, if it’s important, he’ll get back in touch with her. I’m sure it’s of no consequence.”
Unbidden, a shiver ran up Willow’s spine and she shuddered a bit. Wesely looked at her quizzically. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah…yeah….you know that feeling….someone walking over my grave….” Her voice trailed off. Uneasy, she rose and walked to the stacks, trying to pace it off.
One Week Later…
Angel strode into the Hyperion and tossed a briefcase down before strolling into the side office behind the counter where Willow had set up a home office. Willow leaned back in her leather chair, her bare legs crossed at the ankles on her desk. Her skirt had ridden up just enough for Angel to see the lace top of one pale stocking smoothly gathered around her thigh. She grinned at Angel, her eyes lighting up as he walked in.
“Willow.” He turned. “Fred. How’d you sneak out so fast? You leaving early?”
“Yes, Angel, and I’m taking office supplies, too. Got a whole collection of staple removers upstairs even as we speak.” And she rose, grinning, and strolled past him and out the door. Angel sighed in resignation and turned to Willow, who was giggling softly.
“I used to scare people.”
“I know, Sweetie. If it makes you feel any better, you scared the crap out of that little girl who was selling cookies last weekend.”
Angel crossed to the desk and leaned against it, gazing down at her long legs admiringly. “Feeling kind of frisky, huh?”
Willow looked up at him, a flirty glint in her eyes. “No, no…I’m frightened…very very frightened. Oooohhhh, Mister Vampire…” her voice became a bad breathy Marilyn Monroe impression. “Keep those fangs away from me! I’m a good girl…” She squealed as Angel, grinning, leaned down and grabbed one wrist, yanking her to her feet.
He crushed her to his chest and grabbed her other wrist, drawing them behind her back and anchoring them there with one strong hand. Willow sucked in a startled breath, all teasing forgotten, as Angel’s head lowered to her ear. He licked the shell softly before growling, “My reputation seems to have suffered. Maybe it’s time to fix that.” Willow tugged gently, trying to pull her wrists away. A frission of heat ran up her spine. Angel laughed softly against her ear. “Huh-uh, Baby. I like you like this.” He licked along her neck. “All helpless….” She tilted her head, feeling the rasp of his tongue against the vein running down the side of her throat. “All needy…” His other hand trailed down her body to flick softly at the line of the top of the stocking on one leg….his fingers teased higher and higher, softly pushing under the cotton of her panties to stroke at her core. “…All wet.”
Willow moaned as his fingers teased the soft, wet folds of flesh between her legs, unthinkingly parting her thighs wider. His mouth worked across her face, kissing softly before pressing to her lips in a series of taunting, light kisses. “Shhh….quiet. Don’t want to upset the roomies….” His voice was a dark whisper.
Willow groaned to herself. This man went from zero to hard in 3.8 seconds. Two minutes home, and he had her ready to lie back on the desk and let him have at it. Pretty much like he did two days ago when he got home. And the day before that, when she walked into his office to take him to lunch. She’d never look at that credenza the same way again. He was all fire and want and aching need, and all it took for her to be ready for him was to think his name.
“Hello? Is anyone here?”
Willow and Angel both froze, hearing the strong British tones call out. Angel pulled his hand out from under Willow’s skirt, and she shifted slightly, trying to get her balance back. They looked at each other and Willow smoothed her skirt down, glancing over at Angel and looking down before grinning.
“Uh, Angel, you need to wait a moment….I’ll go out.”
Angel’s look at her spoke volumes as did the thick bulge beneath the zipper of his slacks. Willow giggled softly and stepped around him, walking out into the lobby and stopping cold, seeing the visitor.
“Oh my goddess! GILES!!!”
~Part: 3~
“Giles!” Willow darted to the Englishman who stood at the entryway, throwing herself up onto her toes and her arms around his neck as he chuckled and gathered her in close. He held her to him, pleased at the exhuberant welcome. Over the top of her head he saw Angel stroll out of the office, hands in his pockets, looking a little annoyed. He seemed to sigh as he saw Giles and the watcher thought he heard a muttered, “perfect” before Angel crossed to him, steeling his expression into one more welcoming.
“Giles.”
“Angel.”
Willow pulled back and grinned up at Giles. “Holy cow. Why didn’t you let us know you were coming? “
“Actually, kind of an interesting story….it was a sudden decision…”
Angel tensed, sensing an underlying urgency in Giles’ voice. Willow, paying no attention, babbled on. “Oh. Well, you’re here…and I mean HERE. You can stay here, we have plenty of room, right, Angel?” She turned to Angel, briefly, missing Giles’ solemn and silent communication as he met Angel’s eyes.
“Of course. Plenty of rooms here.”
“Did Buffy come with you?” Willow peeked around Giles as Angel went rigid; he didn’t think he could deal with that right now.
“No, no, she’s back in England.” He paused. “But she’s coming in two days.” Willow nodded. Giles went on. “You’ll have another guest coming in with her.” He looked directly at Angel. “Buffy is meeting Cordelia in New York and flying with her from there.”
Angel closed his eyes, wondering if this was a new and different kind of hell. All was silent, as the implications settled in on Willow. Angel could almost see the lightbulb go on over her head. He leaned towards her and kissed her hair softly before whispering, “It’s all good, Sweets.” Willow nodded, a little uncertainly, missing the way Giles looked uncomfortably away. They stood there, quietly still for a moment till the door opened behind Giles and Wesley walked in.
“Mr. Giles!” Wesley greeted the watcher “What a surprise. Here on business?”
Giles regarded him steadily before turning his gaze on Willow and Angel. “More than you know, Wesley.” He sighed. “Might I go to my room to freshen up before we get into all that?”
Willow held stockstill, a feeling of cold seeping into her mind. “Giles…is it….” She took a breath. “Is it bad?”
Giles looked at her, measuring his words carefully. “It’s….tremendous in scope. I don’t know how bad it can be.” Willow stared for a moment, then nodded.
“Well, ok then. Why don’t I show you your room?”
Angel picked up one of Giles’ suitcases and Giles picked up the other. Angel smiled easily at Willow. “I’ve got Giles here, Will. Why don’t you order in tonight?” He glanced at Giles. “Chinese ok?” At Giles’ nod, Angel nodded at Willow and headed upstairs, Giles following. Willow watched them, then turned to Wesley, who had stood still, his face drawn.
Willow regarded him silently for a moment before speaking up. “I think the phrase you’re looking for is “shit.”
Wesley nodded soberly. “Actually, it was more like “fuck.”
“Fuckity fuck.”
Wesley nodded. “Yes, that’s it.”
Willow sighed as she turned to go back into the office. “Whatever it is, we’ll deal. I know we can. I just thought my days of dealing….”
“Were over?” Wesley finished for her. Willow nodded slowly. They both sat, quiet and still, lost in their thoughts for a time until Willow finally picked up the phone and ordered takeout.
Ten minutes later, Angel came back downstairs, an intent frown on his face. He paused outside of the office, steeling himself before walking in. Willow looked up.
“Did he say anything?”
“Not really. He’ll tell us about it tonight. Let him rest, he’s beat.”
Willow rose and walked out of the room and wandered back to the kitchen. Maybe some tea would settle the huge butterflies that had wandered into her stomach.
Angel closed his eyes, listening to the sound of her footsteps as she walked away. Her heart was racing, he could hear it thundering in his mind. When he heard the kitchen door swing closed, he looked over at Wesley.
“Welcome to the party in Hell. Buffy and Cordelia will be here day after tomorrow.” He sighed. “Wes….” He raised his eyes to Wesley. “Be here tonight. Fred, too. I’m going to call Spike.” He lowered his head, closing his eyes. Wesley stood still, barely breathing.
“Fuckity fuck.”
~Part: 4~
Dinner was calm, if a little still. Willow curled quietly into Angel’s side, held there securely with his arm around her as she listened quietly. Giles brought them all up to par on the Scooby updates and was telling them about the new Council when the door opened and Spike entered, looking around as he drew on a cigarette.
“Spike.” Willow raised her eyebrows at him. He heaved a mock-heavy sigh and opened the back door, tossing the cigarette out before closing the door and grinning at Willow. She shook her head. She knew he did it just to needle her.
She felt Angel shift as he straightened and exchanged a look with Giles. The two men rose and Angel pulled her up to her feet. Angel ducked his head and whispered against Willow’s ear, “Let’s all go out to the office.”
Fred had been silent all during dinner, and Willow shot her a concerned glance. As they trooped out to the lobby, she held back, patting Fred’s shoulder. “Are you alright, Sweetie?” Fred’s huge eyes became even larger as she nodded frantically before Wesley tugged on her arm, pulling her along.
Willow trailed along after and settled herself on the brocade sofa next to Angel, who leaned forward, tense and still. Willow opened her mouth to speak when Giles’ calm voice sounded.
Two days ago, a Pakastani Council source was found murdered on a London street. The next day, I received this in the post. It is addressed in his handwriting.” Giles rose and walked to a black leather briefcase that he had stored behind a chair. Opening it, he gently pulled out a thickly rolled scroll. He carefully handed it to Wesley. “I’ve examined it rather perfunctorily and have concerns…well, more than concerns….I am afraid that…there is a prophecy of import….a rather arcane piece of history, actually.”
“Bloody Hell. English is your mothertongue. Speak it.” Spike’s impatient voice boomed out.
Giles shot him a look of disdain and paused, trying to marshall his thoughts.
“It appears that there were, among the gods, three daughters. Pure in heart and noble, they held to them the gifts of valor, light, and knowledge. Three soldiers of the gods were charged with their care and protection.” Giles paused, a small smile curving his lips. “As happens in these tales, the daughters each fell in love with their protector, and the feelings were returned. All went well, until the power of the Dark One managed to catch the protectors unawares and kidnapped the daughters, casting a spell that enshrined their souls into a box, held in secret by those on Earth who would champion the gods.”
Their power, however, lived on, and was passed throughout time to those daughters of the earth who were found to be deserving. Ages have passed, and the time of resolution has come.”
Giles paused, wanting to proceed carefully. He frowned a bit, then continued. “According to the prophecy, a time will come, marked by signs, wherein the enshrinement will be permanent. On that, the Dark One, always held to a realm of restraint, will be released across all dimensions. The Powers of the Daughters will cease. Destruction will surely follow, for…” Giles paused to remove a small notebook in which he had made pages of notes “The Dark One shall devour all valor, all light, and all knowledge.”
“All yikes.” Willow spoke up quietly.
Giles nodded, not looking up. “Indeed.”
Wesley looked at Giles. “You mentioned signs.”
“Um…yes…” Giles shuffled through his notes. “Let’s see….the Chandellian uprising….the Montok massacre…something called ‘the Pretaleon oncoming’….I have that being investigated. All will happen in short succession. The point is, the signs, by and large, have come to fruition, and the Dark One stands ready to rise.”
“Any feel for who or what this Dark One is?” Angel asked.
Giles shook his head. “Looking into it.”
Willow leaned forward. “I get it, Giles, this is a bad prophecy rising, but what can we do? I mean…why did you come to us?”
Giles sighed deeply and stood for a long moment, head lowered, elbows propped on his knees. He finally looked up and reached for the scroll. Carefully laying it on the low table, he gently unrolled it. “Here is the story, and the prophecy. Here is the symbol” he pointed to an odd marking that looked like a Chinese character, “that will identify the Dark One, assuming somehow he can be seen.” Giles continued to unroll the delicate paper, and stopped, suddenly, taking a breath. Looking up, he locked gazes momentarily with Angel before continuing. “This is an etching of a plate. It depicts the three daughters in happier times.” Slowly revealing the drawing, Giles held his breath.
Everyone leaned in to look at the drawing. A stillness seemed to settle on the room as eyes grew wide. No one spoke, and one by one, all eyes reluctantly lifted to settle on Willow. She stared for a full two minutes before softly speaking. “But…that’s Buffy. And that’s Cordelia. And that…..” She raised her face to Angel, her eyes wide and disbelieving. “That’s me.”
~Part: 5~
The Daughter of Valor stood , eyes raised to the sun. She held a sword aloft, and her lithe body seemed poised to battle. The Daughter of Light reposed nearby, at her feet. This Daughter smiled serenely as she gazed into a burst of light cupped in her slender hands. The third Daughter, the Daughter of Knowledge, reclined in a low branch of a tree, a mischievous grin tilting her lips as she read a thick book.
Valor….light….knowledge. Buffy…..Cordelia…..Willow.
Willow stood abruptly, her legs shaking so that she immediately sat again. Her hands dropped to her side as her mind raced. She felt panic beginning to overtake her and felt the room begin to spin and voices, tumbling out, echoing as if from far away. Just when she thought she would slip under to a void, she felt the cool strength of Angel’s hand grasp hers. He leaned in close and pressed his lips to her hair before whispering, “Breathe.”
Willow drew in a deep, steady breath and felt herself begin to calm. She looked at Angel, who watched her, his face unreadable, and then she looked to Giles. He sat in the same place, his gaze fixed on the etching. He raised his head and met her gaze and she seemed to draw a measure of strength from the concerned warmth she saw there.
“Willow….” He seemed to be trying to word his thoughts carefully. “Buffy and Cordelia will be here day after tomorrow. We must face this. Somehow, the three of you must each meet a challenge and gain the release of the enshrinement of the three souls.”
Willow thought a moment before speaking softly, “I don’t suppose the challenges are something like, a mega jenga match or something like that.”
Giles sighed. “No. Each challenge will be revealed when the time is right. I gather that certain events have occurred which point to…the time being right.” He leaned forward and unrolled the scroll further. The print stopped abruptly, leaving the rest of the aged scroll blank. “Quite fascinating, really. Portions of the prophecy seem to reveal themselves at will. I began to trace the origins of the box, hoping to determine where it is being guarded, and this portion of the prophecy” he pointed to a section of verse “suddenly appeared. I transcribed it enroute, and have traced the box to Africa. I have asked….an emissary….to retrieve it.”
Wesley spoke up. “Who’s been guarding the box? I know of a tribe located in Madagascar, small and almost extinct, who have been rumored to hold a secret that is millennium in age…..there’s a shaman, known only to a few in Sierra Leone, who holds the key to a mystical port, but I don’t think he’d have….”
Giles interrupted. “The box is in the possession of one Bernie Schmeltzen, a Gap Store manager in Capetown.” Everyone looked at him, and he shrugged his shoulders and looked a little sheepish. “My only theory is that guardians of the god’s souls need to eat, too.”
Willow jumped up, suddenly, impatiently waving her hands around. “OK…little slow to process here.” Her hands fluttered up and she absently tucked her hair behind her ears. “I’m not……I mean I can’t be….” She closed her eyes, muttering, I can’t believe I’m saying this. “I am NOT a goddess. Right?” Giles looked at her. “RIGHT?”
“No, Willow, you’re not a goddess. Your body is…a vessel. A caregiver, if you will, of a gift. Your gift is the gift of knowledge.” Giles reached for his book of notes and thumbed through them. “Little is known of the Daughters. I found skeletal mention in my works back in England. All that I can find is that each had a distinctive gift. The daughter who possessed knowledge held a power beyond what we know to be simple knowledge. Her intellect was in tune with all the forces of nature, with all that traveled through what we know of both our own reality, and that which is mystical.”
Willow drew in a deep breath and whispered, “Wicca.”
Giles nodded. “Perhaps the Mother of Wiccas.”
Willow felt two strong hands rest on her shoulders and she was pulled back against Angel’s chest. He held her close as she stared at Giles, unable to think.
“Nice fairy tale, if you go for that sort of thing.” Spike stopped, thinking a bit. “which we do, because that’s our crappy luck. So….what does Red have to do, and how do we help?”
Giles sighed. “Not sure. I believe more will be revealed when Buffy and Cordelia arrive. I only told them a small portion of the story. I really only currently have a small portion, and I didn’t want…..I wanted…….”
“You wanted to hold off cracking their worlds open for as long as possible.” Willow finished. Giles nodded and lowered his eyes. Willow crossed to him and pressed her lips to his cheek briefly.
“I always forget that this is as hard on you as it is on us.” Willow whispered in his ear. Giles raised his head and looked into her eyes, smiling slightly.
“You thought Buffy was the only one I viewed as a daughter?” He whispered back.
Willow felt tears well up in her eyes and held his gaze for a moment and then heard Angel behind her.
“Spike’s right. We need to find out what Willow and the others have to do, and how we can help.”
Willow stifled a sob and ended up choking out a giggle. “Well perfect. I’m carting around the gift of a goddess. I get to go Fear Factor to save the world, and now I have to go find some damn ice skates.” Silence filled the room. Willow took a breath and turned to meet Angel’s gaze. “You agreed with something Spike said. Hell has finally frozen over.”
~Part: 6~
Willow smoothed lotion gently up and down her arms, staring at herself in the mirror above the dresser absently. Her hair was piled loosely atop her head and her skin was damp and dewy from her shower. The movements of her hands paused as a small smile lifted her lips. She looked at the reflection of the room as the door slowly opened and closed again. Turning around, she watched Angel cross to the sofa and sit, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. Willow regarded him quietly for a moment. She crossed to him and he opened his eyes, watching her from beneath lowered, heavy lids.
Willow. His Willow. He had tracked her scent the whole time he was downstairs talking to Giles, Wesley, and Spike. Her natural spice and musk….a siren’s call to his senses. He knew the moment she uncapped the lotion bottle….inhaled her skin as she stroked it on. His body, already tense and drawn, tightened almost painfully and he had to bid his goodnights and attempt to climb the stairs casually, like he wasn’t in the death grip of a strange mixture of fear and desire. He missed Spike’s smirk, and would have been surprised to note that the smirk was tinged with jealousy and sadness.
He watched her approach, and felt the hum of his body increase. She was all he knew, his Willow. She was calm and wind and rain and musk and damp, damp heat. She wore cotton panties and a tanktop, and strands of fiery hair tumbled down her shoulders and curled against her breast. She looked down at him for a moment before climbing onto his lap and straddling his thighs. He held still, and she leaned down and kissed his forehead.
“We have to talk.”
“No good conversation in the history of mankind ever started with those words.”
She grinned. “Well, I’m not pregnant, I don’t think we should see other people, and I don’t have a compulsion to go off and find myself, so you’re safe.” He snorted quietly, and her grin slipped a little. “But we still need to talk.”
His hands began stroking her thighs softly as he listened to her. He felt almost resigned. He knew what was coming.
“This isn’t your fault.” Angel’s hands stilled. This wasn’t what he expected her to say. She looked at him solemnly. “This is because of nothing you did, or any decision I made.”
Angel’s hands dropped to the sofa. “Dammit, Willow. You were fine, living a good life, and I come along, and now….”
“You think one has anything to do with the other? That’s kind of a stretch.”
“You don’t think it’s a little too coincidental…”
“I think that I’ve lived enough and seen enough to know that it doesn’t do any good to second guess prophecy. This would have happened if I was in New York being bored or here being loved.” She shook her head. “Don’t get me wrong. I am completely wigged here. Here two weeks and I’m starring in Son of Sunnydale. But here’s the thing. I was thinking while I was taking a shower….how crappy would this be if I was in New York, alone, and Giles called me and told me about this? How sucky would it be if I felt like I stood there all by myself, facing God knows what? But that’s not the case. I’m not alone here.” She waved her hand a bit. “And here’s a bonus. Not only do I get you, but I get Wesley, and Fred, and Spike…” She thumped him as he growled softly. “Yeah, Spike. Angel, you gotta see that you and Spike are kind of a package deal. I’m yours, you’re mine, and Spike….” She giggled softly. “Spike is our Joey Tribiani.” Angel looked at her blankly. “Never mind. Just deal with it. I know you know I’m right, because you had him come over here tonight when you knew a new big bad was in town. You wanted him here.”
Angel looked at her a little sullenly. “Doesn’t mean I like it. And doesn’t mean I’m happy about any of this.”
Willow climbed back off and walked to the bed, feeling his gaze on her body. “That’s right Sweetie. Go down fighting.” She began to turn the covers back. “All I’m saying is my being here, ya know…my being with you….that’s the good luck chapter of this story. I’m here, I have friends….” She paused a bit. “I’ve already got you semi-trained….”
She grinned to herself as she felt the momentary jolt of silence from across the room. A soft, low voice, heavy with restraint, growled, “What was that again?”
She walked around to the other side of the bed, tossing a casual gesture at him as she talked. Excitement began to coarse through her body. “You know, I have all that beginning of the relationship stuff done…the training of the boyfriend. We still have a ways to go. I mean, how many black shirts can one man have? But overall, I think you’re pretty moldable…” She choked off on a squeal as she found her body grabbed from behind and pulled back against a solid wall of body humming with dark power. She hadn’t even seen him move.
Blunt teeth tugged sharply at her ear before a voice heavy and dark whispered “I’ve got your “training” right here, witch.” just before she was spun around and his mouth, heavy and demanding, slammed down onto hers. She rose up on her toes to meet him, and reached to wrap her arms around his neck to hold him even closer, but he pulled his head back, making “tut tut” noises as his hands manacled her wrists in a strong grip. He looked down at her ivory face and grinned, not a lover’s grin, but the smile of a predator. She shivered slightly, knowing she had pushed just the right button for Angel’s darker side to come out and play.
He looked down at her and slowly released her hands. “Hmmm. His gaze lowered to the twin pebbles of her nipples, clearly visible beneath the thin cotton of her tanktop. He took in deeply the scent of her arousal, almost primal in intensity. He stepped back and met her eyes, noting the way her eyes darkened with her need. “Take my clothes off.” She licked her lips as her eyes widened slightly. “NOW, Willow.” She seemed to startle, reaching for the buttons of his shirt and slowly unfastening them, her eyes on his chest as the muscled expanse was revealed. She slowly pushed his shirt off, and kneeled at his feet, taking one foot and pulling off one shoe before raising green eyes to meet his intent gaze as she pulled the other shoe off. She rose to her knees and unbuckled the belt at his waist, the rasp of his zipper almost an echo in the still room.
She pulled at the waist of his opened jeans and tugged them down his legs, along with his shorts, licking her lips at the sight of the thick muscle jutting out from the curling nest of hair between his legs. He toed his jeans off as he stroked her hair softly, reaching to unclasp the fastener that held her hair in the messy knot on her head. Silken strands tumbled down around her shoulders in a fiery cascade. She breathed softly on the plum tip of his erection, raising her gaze to his.
“What do you want me to do?” her voice was a husky whisper. His gut clenched as he reached to stroke her hair.
“Take it.”His voice was steady, but she noted that his hand was stiff, as if he held himself in check.
She held his gaze as she leaned forward and gently stroked his length with her hand, up and down. Her fingers danced teasingly around the base as she flicked her tongue out at the smooth tip of his cock. His fingers tightened in her hair and she sucked gently at the head, licking around the rim. Angel watched her, watched her lips caress him…watched her hands stroke the turgid steel of him. A guttural groan sounded from his throat, and he thought he heard a soft chuckle. He was going to haul her up to her feet and teach her all about respect, when she suddenly opened her mouth and took him in deeply, tightly, into the sweet goodness of her mouth. Her hands slowly trailed around his hips to press into the small of his back, holdling his body to her face.
Angel closed his eyes and groaned, unaware of his body rocking gently in rhythm to her mouth’s attentions. He felt all sensation in his body pool between his legs. He sucked in a breath as he felt his body at the edge of the chasm. He reached down and tugged her head back, meeting the banked fire in her eyes with his own gaze. He yanked her up to her feet and spun her around, pulling her tanktop off and reaching to tug her panties down her legs and off. Her head tilted and he leaned in, whispering dark murmurs into her ear. Murmurs of want and need, telling her about all he wanted to do with her…..and to her. She began to pant when his hand trailed lower, fingers at the junction of her thighs.
“Open for me.” Her thighs parted, the movement a little shaky. Angel brushed his lips over her ear. “Good girl. So ready to let me take. You do, don’t you? You want me to just take….” His hands glided through the silken damp curls to stroke the slick flesh hidden there. His fingers found the nub nestled in the folds…he plucked at it gently, matching the movement with his hand as it tugged at the satin of her nipple.
Willow felt as if she were held by a spell of want and need. Her body rocked and pushed into his….Her damp skin slid against him as he held her in a cage of heat. Her head rested against his shoulder and she looked down, trembling, and watched his hands as they stroked and teased her body. Angel brought her body to the edge…she was sure she’d be sucked into the fire.
She begged in a ragged whisper, “ohgoddesspleasefuckme”
“Hmmmmm? What’s that, Baby?”
“Please, Angel…” Rocking harder….panting…. “Please…ohgod…..fuckme….please…now….”
Angel pushed her onto the bed and crawled up behind her. She rose on all fours as Angel lifted her arms, stretching them to the headboard. He slapped her hands down to the spindles of the wrought iron headboard and growled in her ear, “Hang on. It’s gonna get wild from here.”
Willow choked on a hysterical giggle. “GONNA GET wild?” Holy…
“FUCK” Willow burst out as Angel pressed forward and filled her in one long, smooth move. Her hands tightened on the headboard as Angel grasped her hips in steel-like fingers, holding her still as he paused, letting her clench around him. He looked down at her back, smooth and ivory…his hand slowly teased up her spine…tunneling into her hair and twisting the silken strands into his fist. He tugged her head back and her body straightened against his, her hips tilted to take him in even further with the movement. She moaned, feeling the tip of him pressing against her cervix. His body rocked slowly, pulling out of her almost all the way in a gentle slide before slamming back in. Willow groaned, holding onto the iron spindles as if to keep from falling, her thighs parting even wider. They began to rock in a slow motion, sweat gathering between their bodies so that skin began to slide against skin in a hot friction.
Angel felt his body tighten….he grit his teeth, trying to keep control. They both rocked and slapped at each other frantically. Angel was desperate to hang on…he felt his control slipping…hang on…hang on…..he groaned as Willow cried out, a sweet keening just as her body clenched and tightened all around him. She felt flame shoot through her as she came, drawing him in and holding him as spasms poured through her. Angel’s head shot forward as he jerked her head to one side…he felt his face morph as his fangs elongated, sweet and hot from his mouth. He bent his head and pressed his fangs into her throat, drinking in her wild taste as he came, filling her with his seed even as he took her blood. Willow sobbed, her heart thundering in her own ears. She willed him to take more, pressing her throat to his mouth. The frenzied sucking lasted only a moment, then gentled and stopped. His fangs painlessly pulled out of her skin and his tongue laved over the wounds, sealing them with his essence. They both held still, spooned together on their knees..
Willow trembled as she pried her hands off the headboard and felt Angel pull away gently from her body. They tumbled down into a sweaty, exhausted heap onto the bed. Willow felt her heart beginning to calm. She rolled over onto her stomach and turned her head to look at Angel, laying still on his back, his eyes closed. She watched him for a moment, letting her heart slow and her breathing deepen.
Angel felt as though he had walked through fire and come out reborn. The sweet exhaustion that filled him was tinged with an overwhelming feeling of satisfaction. He couldn’t believe his life had taken this turn, but to whoever orchestrated such things, he was grateful. His eyes opened as he heard a lazy chuckle. He looked over at the redheaded witch who lay in a boneless heap beside him. She met his gaze with a teasing glint in her eye.
“See, Angel? This was so much more fun to do not alone.”
Several doors down the hallway, Giles paused as he heard an unfamiliar sound muffled from a distant room. He looked up from the scroll and pulled his glasses off, listening. It sounded almost like….no, surely it wasn’t….his eyes crinkled as he heard it again.
It was the distant sound of Angel shouting with laughter.
~Part: 7~
Outside the window, the world below was hidden by thick, billowy clouds. Funny for how fast the plane was actually moving, it seemed as if you were suspended in air, not moving at all. If you looked up above the plane, you could see the sky begin to darken, as if the plane skirted along the fine line between earth and the stratosphere. Buffy looked up into the darkening layers of sky, wondering how close to heaven they flew. She remembered being a little girl, and her father telling her that heaven was “up above the clouds.” Not that he was the great keeper of truths, but the memory of how safe she felt back then always brought a sad smile to her lips, and sometimes, brought back a want for that innocence. She sighed and leaned her head back against the seat, feeling almost tired at the thought of what might be to come. She had lost innocence in the placement of heaven a long time ago, and now, all she knew was whatever came immediately next.
Cordelia broke the silence that had fallen between them. “This is so surreal.” Buffy nodded. “Ok, just so I have all this straight, there’s a freakin’ prophecy about you, me and Willow.” Buffy nodded again, absently nibbling a stale pretzel. “It’s not a warm, fuzzy, prophecy. It’s a skanky, doctor of doom kind of a deal.” Buffy’s head bobbed again. “And because that cake isn’t quite sweet enough, the two-inch thick icing is that Angel and Willow…..” Buffy sighed again, reaching for another pretzel.
“Yeppers. Angel and Willow.”
Cordelia sat there for a moment. “Are we bothered by this?”
“No. We are a little confused, and concerned.”
“Well, isn’t that being bothered?”
“No, Cordy. It’s being….all….my-ex-and-my-best-galpal-are-in-love-and-I’m-happy-but-kind-of-itchy-about-it.”
Cordy looked at her. “I bet Giles has an ointment for that.”
“Hah. So, why didn’t you and Angel work?”
“OhGod. I’ve asked that one over and over, and hey, I have connections to powers in the know, but all I can come up with is that…that moment passed. It’s like…Angel and I fell into this thing because basically, we were there, and who the hell else would take us? We both deserved better than that. I will always love Angel, and I think that I will because I left before we hated each other. Make sense?”
Buffy stared at Cordelia. “Perfect. Who are you, sensible person, and what have you done with Queen C?”
Cordelia grinned briefly. “I voted her out of the tribe and moved on. Buffy, I think you and I are at the same plafe with Angel. I mean, I’m not in the wacky love with him, but I care about him. I want him to be happy.”
“But not too happy.”
“Well, you know, that’s not an issue anymore.” Buffy looked at her blankly. “You DO know, don’t you?”
Buffy shrugged her shoulders, trying to be casual. “Oh yeah, of course.” She looked back out the window.
“Buffy, I’m sorry…I thought you knew. The last time Angelus got loose, the spell that Willow found anchored his soul. Angel can have a life.” Cordelia stilled, at a loss for words.
“Did you know about that before you left?” Buffy’s voice was small.
“Yeah. It kind of…..let’s say it kind of sealed the deal.”
They were quiet for a while, each lost in her own thoughts. Finally Cordy spoke up. “I bet Angel called you a while back…when he and Willow…”
“Yeah, he did. He call you too?” Cordy nodded. “How did that happen? How did you and I both find what we found with a guy who will always be so much a part of us…and how did he get led onto Will?”
Cordelia looked at Buffy. “And why did he claim her? That was never even on the table for us.”
“Us, either. I gotta think this is something different. Something special.”
“Yeah, so are we wigged because Willow found something Special, or because Willow found something Special with Angel? Or because the closest I get to special is to fantasize about the FedEx man?”
Buffy let out a snort. “I’m wigged because I stood at the ruins of Sunnydale and saw this whole expanse of new life ahead of me, and 5 years later I’m still alone. I mean, no one’s gonna get my life, and the guy at the top of my wishlist has that whole, Grandma’s the Queen thing going.” Cordy chuckled. “How about you? Why don’t you have some Colin Farrell wannabe flying with you to be supportive like a good boyfriend?”
“Yeah, you and I are more alike than either of us would be happy with. I started out never being alone, and kind of closed in more and more as my powers got bigger and better. I get the no one gets your life thing. In Portland, I’ve gotten the day to day thing down pat. Angel set up a small office there, I like running it. I’m amazed at the demony funtimes there, Maine is so small, but hey, demons just wanna have fun, I guess. No one is gonna get that long enough to see me, or who I am. Maybe we’re both just waiting….for something.”
“Yeah.
They both sat there, lost in thought. Finally, Buffy spoke.
“OK….just so we’re on the same psycho-page, we’re a little fuzzled by the whole Angel – Willow thing but we’ll deal, we’re both in need of a good lay, and airplane pretzels suck.”
“Yeah, what she said. Well, and we’re going to torture Angel till he cries.”
Buffy grinned. “What she said.”
~Part: 8~
Angel prowled through the stacks of the Sherwood, grumbling as he looked at the list in his hand and pulled several tomes off the shelf. Carting them back to a table, he sat, facing the pile of dusty, smelly, freakin’, damned, fucking…he started, looking up as Spike thumped him in the head.
“Wakey wakey, Peaches.” Spike walked around the table and sat, facing him. “Gotta get your read on. These books have to be good for something….” His voice trailed off as he began thumbing through an ancient copy of Morton’s Paraphysiologics and Anatomy. Angel watched him for a moment, then spoke quietly.
“You’re worried for her.”
Spike looked up. “Well, yeah. We fought side by side. She’s helped me out of more than one scrape. And…don’t tell her this…..but I’ve always had a soft spot for her.” He shrugged, looking embarrassed. “She’s……she’s a friend.” He kind of sputtered the word out, finding it foreign.
“I know there’s a bond. After what you two had, there’s always going to be that….thing….that pull between you two. I’ve been there, I know.”
Spike shook his head. “Well, yeah, I guess it is a pull. I have nothing but respect for that girl, though, and I can’t think of anyone else I’ve said that for.” He chuckled without humor. “Who’d a thought such a bitty thing would do that to me?”
Angel leaned forward. “Spike, I know it’s a little, well, weird, but you two had….have this power, this thing between you. I know I’m part of that history, too, but I want you to know, if you want her, get her. Simple as that. I won’t stand in your way. I don’t know if anything is ever meant to be, but I’ve lived long enough to know that sometimes, we have to make our own way and just take whatever is offered.”
Spike stared at him a moment. “Are you insane?”
“What? Wanting you to have what I have….”
“I don’t think…..we don’t do….I mean, I don’t want her.” Spike looked at Angel, shocked and disgusted. “Again, are you insane?”
“I don’t get it. You had that whole thing which frankly, I don’t get and makes me question her taste in men except for me…I’m telling you I’m ok with it. You want her, go get her.”
“I DON’T WANT HER. Are you fuckin’ crazy? You’d blow what is possibly the best thing you’ve ever had….” Agitated, Spike rose and stalked away from the table and back again. He leaned over the table, palms flat on the surface, facing Angel. “Look. I know how it works with us. There were times with Dru and with Darla….there were times with us. But listen, mate…I’ve done the whole, ‘sharing’ thing, several times over, and…..I’m done. I want….the stupid, boring, thereeverymorningthereeverynight thing. With….” He broke off. “Fuck a duck. I don’t know if she even…..” He looked at Angel. “But that one, she’s yours. I don’t even think of her that way. She’s sexy, and funny, and God is she powerful, but she’s yours. And since you claimed her…”
“I never claimed Buffy.”
Spike stared at Angel blankly. “I thought we were talking about Willow.”
Angel frowned. “No, we were talking about Buffy.” He thought a moment, then the frown cleared. “OH. I get it….you were talking about Willow and how….” He frowned again. “What do you mean you don’t want her? She’s….Willow. Think you’re too good for her?”
Angel popped up and stalked off into the bookstacks, mumbling about how all that bleach must have fried Spike’s brain. Spike groaned and slowly lowered his head to the table, beating against the surface with several solid thuds.
Hours later, Spike had heard Willow’s sterling qualities listed so well that he was sure he could ace a test on her. Angel finally wound down, realizing he was doing a hard sell on his girlfriend to the man he had the most complicated relationship with in the history of the Vampire. Spike was beginning to wonder if Wesley kept anything 100 proof hidden anywhere so he could numb his mind to this ridiculous chat. He sat there, ignoring Angel’s current rant on how Spike better not think of Willow that way ever, and how Spike better keep his hands off her, and he had a sudden thought. He burst out laughing, and Angel stopped, looking at him suspiciously.
Spike gestured with a wave. “Oh, no, keep going, mate. Don’t mind me. Just realized it’s almost 3.”
“Yeah. You can tell time. I knew those remedial lessons would pay off.”
Spike ignored him. “Hmmmm. 3:00 pm. Wonder what’s going on back at the homestead. Oh, I know….it’s tea time. There’s Willow, who I now want with all the fire in hell” Angel growled, his game face sliding into view. “there she is, serving tea to…oh, my….Cordelia. The Queen herself. And, hello, there’s Buffy. The three of them. Having a lovely time, as ladies do.”
Angel stilled, his face going, if at all possible, even more pale. He didn’t even feel as his face slid back into human smoothness. He headed for the door, feeling panic pour through him at Spikes next words as he rose to follow.
“Wonder what they’re finding to talk about?”
~Part: 9~
Cordy grinned as Fred sat down, a latte in her hands.
“So…..how’s life with the Rogue Demon Hunter?”
Fred laughed softly. “Finer than fine. Wonderful. Like….getting a present every day.”
Cordy rolled her eyes. “Oh, you’ve got it bad.”
“Yeah, like you didn’t have a hand in it.” Fred nudged Cordy’s foot with hers. “Wesley told me. You were his….Fred Advisor. He said he never would have had any hope if it weren’t for you.” She looked at Cordy levelly. “He misses you. Every day.”
“I know. I miss him, too. And you. And Spike. I miss….” She shook her head, taking a sip of her latte.
Willow sighed. “It’s ok, Cordelia. You miss being here, you miss your friends. You miss Angel. I know. Is this a problem? I mean……are we good?”
Cordy choked slightly on her latte. “Wow. No really, Willow, don’t beat around the bush.” Willow grinned a crooked smile, shrugging her shoulders. Cordy looked at her a moment, a sad smile tilting her lips. “Sorry, Will. I forget that occasionally, there’s someone else as in your face as I can be. And that’s a good thing. So are we. We’re good Willow, we always will be. I’m happy for you, and I’m happy for Angel. And I like my life. All is good.”
Willow looked into her eyes for a moment, then nodded, satisfied. Buffy spoke up from the chaise she was reclining on. “Fact is, we got us a Friends situation, kind of. Except none of us looks like Jennifer Anniston.” She wrinkled her brow. “And sadly, none of them is Brad Pitt.” Cordelia nodded. “But we’re having the Sunnydale Redux because once again, jeeze. We have to save the world. And I can’t tell you how tired I am of that. But here we are.” She looked at Willow. “I wouldn’t want to be here, facing this with anyone else. We all have so much between us. Funny where life leads us. I haven’t had anyone in my life since….”
“Spike.” Willow finished quietly.
“Yeah.” Buffy stared into space for a few moments. “I’ve been….growing up, I guess. I’ve kind of learned to be a grownup. I’m mature. I make better decisions. I had to learn that alone didn’t mean solitary, it meant…..just me being with me for a while.”
They were all quiet for a moment. Cordelia broke the silence.
“You’re so horny you could just die, aren’t you?”
“GOD YES” Buffy moaned, throwing her head back against the chaise. “Alone is good and fine and nice, for a while….but….you know….damn.”
Cordelia laughed out loud, her easy laugh a cackle throughout the lobby. Buffy wadded up her napkin and threw it at her, then snorted and laughed too. “I mean, jeeze, give me a wimple and a habit. Same difference.”
Cordy nodded. “Right there with you. You know you’ve got a problem when you’re channel flipping and you stop and stare, thinking Spongebob is looking a little more buff.” They all laughed easily. “No, really. Willow, we’re not jealous you’re with Angel. We’re jealous you’re with anybody. God, we’re pathetic.”
Fred piped up “No you’re not, stop that. You’re…..choosy.”
“Yeah. We’ve chosen to develop relationships with things that require batteries. I did not just say that.” Cordeliea groaned and closed her eyes.
Buffy smiled. “Yes, you did. I’ve got it on my hidden tape recorder. Lemme tell you this, ladies. This thing is done, I’m grabbing the next guy that walks through the door and tossing him down and having at it.” They all laughed and raised their mugs to toast when they heard footsteps coming up the basement stairs. They were quiet, listening to the door opening. Cordelia and Fred, grinned, catching sight of the first man through the door.
“Hey, Spike.”
Buffy stiffened and slowly set her mug down on the table beside her. Cordelia stood and walked to Spike, grinning as she hugged him to her. “Hey, blondie. Miss me?”
“Sure, Queenie, you know I missed the daily presentation of cleavage.” Cordy laughed and punched him in the shoulder. He nodded, smiling a little, before turning to Buffy. She stood stock-still, obviously not sure what to do. He held her gaze for a moment.
“Buffy.”
“Spike.”
A stillness gripped the atmosphere as Angel walked into the lobby, closing the basement door behind him. He stood there a moment, taking it in. Buffy stood staring at Spike. They almost seemed frozen.
“Angel!” He turned to Cordelia and enveloped her in a bearhug. He smiled slightly, breathing in the flowery scent of her hair. So much time, and yet, she brought so much of the past back. She pulled back and grinned up at him.
“Hmmm…..something’s different. Oh my God! You look…….happy.” she teased him.
“Yeah, you could say that.”
“Just did.” She leaned in to whisper, “I’m happy for you. And don’t worry, I told Willow all about our sex life so she can get a grip on favorite positions and stuff like that.” Angel jerked up, shocked and panicky, and Cordy laughed out loud. “God, you are so easy.”
Angel looked down at her, and she giggled, walking away and moving back to the sofa to sit, feet curled under her. He shook his head, grinning, and walked over to Buffy, who had come out of her trance and was looking down.
“Buff.”
“Hey, Angel. Long time no…..do the slay stuff.” She crinkled her brow. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah.” They were both quiet a moment. “Good trip?”
“Umm.” Buffy walked to sit back down. “Fine. Glad I had company, that ‘s a long jaunt.”
Angel looked over at Willow, she met his gaze and winked slowly. He felt the tightness in his chest lessen, like he’d made it through a gauntlet and found it to be much easier than expected. She grinned, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking, and patted the space beside her on the chair. He crossed and sat, looking around.
“Where’s Giles and Wesley?”
Fred answered. “They said they had to run an errand, and they’re picking up dinner.” She frowned. “They should be here anytime.”
Spike wandered slowly around the room, staying in the background. He tried to be nonchalant, but his gaze kept resting on Buffy, noting the small changes 5 years had made. He clenched his jaw, looking out the front door at the sunshine spilling over the busy street. In or out. He was going to burn.
An easy mood gripped the room….everyone caught up on everyone’s lives.
“So, how’s Baxter?” Angel asked Cordelia.
“Big. Goofy. And endless pit to be fed.” Cordelia grinned. Buffy looked at her. “My dog. He was a present when he was a puppy. The paws bigger than my hand should have been a clue.” Buffy grinned. “Dennis is watching him while I’m gone.”
Angel nodded. Willow smiled to herself and sipped at her latte. She knew exactly who the dog was a present from. And that was so Angel. Baxter was probably devoted to Cordelia and a snarly, vicious protector against any harm that could come to her.
Just then they heard muted voices from outside and the doors swung open. Giles and Wesley entered, carrying sacks of Mexican food. Behind them, followed the emissary carrying the vessel of the souls. He solemnly regarded everyone in the room and snapped off his sunglasses, grinning suddenly.
“Hey guys! Gangs all here.”
Willow was the first to speak.
“Xander?”
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