Friendship

Note: Text enclosed in < > represents thoughts or feelings. 

Wednesday, October 1, 1997 

Buffy carefully maneuvered backwards on the warehouse's catwalk. Caught without a stake, Buffy was swiftly running out of places to retreat.  Soon she would run out of walkway.  She turned to evaluate her newest and very dangerous opponent.  "You fight well," Spike complimented, advancing on her with deadly grace.  "Not bad at all. Much better than the last Slayer I killed." 

Buffy ignored his taunt, glancing down.  Her fighting technique generally depended on speed and maneuverability to avoid her opponent's blows.  This vampire was strong; fighting him in close quarters wasn't her best option.  The warehouse floor below was crawling with vampires. Down was bad.  If she dropped to the floor, they'd be on her like an ant swarm. 

Spike tried again, telling her more about his conquests.  "The last Slayer I killed..." he trailed off, reminiscing.  "She begged for her life."  Buffy stopped retreating and assumed a fighting stance.  She watched him intently as he approached.  Despite herself, his taunts were beginning to annoy her.  <Just how many Slayers has this braggart supposedly killed, anyway...?> 

"You don't strike me as the begging kind," Spike observed.  He smiled, enjoying his coming victory, savoring the moment.  He saw Buffy's eyes flicker briefly to a point behind him.  Quickly, he glanced back in time to see a dark figure swing down onto the catwalk.  Spike turned slightly, keeping a careful eye on the Slayer.  To his surprise, the intruder on his private party was another vampire.  <Fucking 'A...  Most whelps wouldn't have the wrinklies to interrupt like this...> 

The vampire stepped forward out of shadow and Spike's surprise turned to astonished delight.  "Angelus!" Spike exclaimed, greeting his long lost sire.  Behind him, Buffy started, disturbed to see Angel sprouting his game face and grinning maniacally.  <What...?!> 

"Spike!" Angel mocked, sizing up his offspring.  He started forward quickly, arms open. 

"I'll be damned!" Spike announced, speaking more of the truth than he knew.  He greeted Angel with a hug and a laugh.  "How'd you get in...?" he demanded roughly, wondering how Angel had snuck past his sentries. Behind him, Buffy began to grow nervous as Slayer paranoia set in. <Angel isn't supposed to be chummy with any of these freak shows...> 

"I WALKED in," Angel drawled, smirking.  "I taught you to always guard your perimeter,"  he observed with a fair degree of censure.   "Tsk, tsk, tsk..." he said, shaking his head with mocking sorrow.  Angel's casual arrogance implied that he would have done better.  Meanwhile, he deliberately peered over Spike's shoulder at Buffy.  Spike had remained carefully turned during their entire exchange, so that he could keep a sharp eye on the Slayer.  He was bold, but not stupid. 

Spike took some umbrage at that last comment.  "I did," he replied with serious irritation.  "I'm surrounded by idiots," he complained.  He was beginning to enjoy this new game.  Standing around shooting the breeze with Angelus while forcing the Slayer to await his beck and call was fun.  He figured that he could kill her at his leisure.  She certainly wasn't going anywhere.  Plus, she seemed so new to this slaying stuff, that she was reluctant to risk attacking two vampires head on.  "What's new with you?" he asked Angelus conversationally. 

Buffy's eyes locked with Angel's.  His smile softened slightly, then he jerked his head towards her.  "That the Slayer?" he asked casually, ignoring Spike's question.  "She's cute," he commented.  His face became human and he adopted a charming smile, sending her a flirtatious wink. His smile was sunshine.  He was utterly gorgeous and purely masculine. Buffy found herself involuntarily returning his sly grin.  The last of her doubt dropped away.  She knew in her heart exactly whose side he was on. 

Their goo-goo eyed exchange settled things for Spike.  He reached a quick decision.  He certainly wasn't going to stand around and watch Angel charm the girl with his puppy dog 'I'm all tortured' act.  Spike knew from experience that once Angel got going, he could play with his prey for months.  Spike was a Quick Kill man himself; extended games drove him nuts.  "Yeah," Spike confirmed.  He whirled to face Buffy again, putting his back to Angel.  "You arrived just in time to watch me kill her." 

"Well, don't let me stand in your way," Angel replied glibly.  To Buffy he nodded at Spike's back and grinned, holding up his fist.  "I'll just stand right here and watch.  In case the little girl hurts you..." he taunted sardonically.  His tone made it clear that he didn't think that Spike could take Buffy alone. 

The ploy worked.  Spike lunged, taking a brutal swing at Buffy that forced her to block.  Simultaneously, Angel's fist drove hard into Spike's kidney.  Spike, caught unprepared, doubled over in pain.  He bent forward, directly into Buffy's fist.  "Who're you callin' a little girl?!" Buffy demanded of Angel over Spike's head.  She pounded Spike in the face again for good measure. 

"Just makin' conversation," Angel replied with an apologetic shrug.  He brought his knee up into Spike's ribcage and offered the Slayer an innocent smile.  He grabbed the other vampire and held him up like an offering.  "Forgive me...?" he cajoled, doing his best to look pathetically hopeful. 

"I'll think about it," Buffy muttered, slugging Spike again.  Together, the Slayer and Angel attacked, brutally waling on him.  Neither one had a stake handy, so they eventually settled for tossing him off the catwalk.  Quickly, Angel grabbed Buffy's arm and began rushing her from the warehouse, heading for the roof. 

"You know that creep?"  Buffy demanded breathlessly, asking the obvious. 

"Yeah." Angel replied shortly.  "I'm his sire," he added, getting right to the point.  He was through beating around the bush with important information.  At least, for the time being.  Until he managed to achieve some sort of satisfactory balance between cryptic and blunt.  For the moment, the perfect combination seemed unattainable.  It was something which he would need to practice to perfect. 

Apparently, Buffy wasn't prepared to handle a straightforward answer coming from him.  She stopped dead in her tracks, shocked beyond words. Angel nearly ran her down. "Keep moving," he ordered, grabbing her elbow.  "I'll explain later."  Judging it wisest to pursue this in more depth at a later time, she resumed moving.  Together, they slipped soundlessly through the night like two shadows. 

Finally, they stopped in a relatively safe location, some distance from the Bronze.  Buffy spun on Angel.  "What are you doing here?" she demanded, getting right to the point.  She discarded any and all polite formalities in her haste.  "I thought that you were through following me," she stated, her eyes blazing with determination.  She WOULD pry the truth out of him, once and for all. 

"I lied," Angel replied, chuckling.  He knew that he was risking life and limb laughing at such an inappropriate time, but Buffy's expression was priceless.   Despite the cliché, she was absolutely gorgeous when she was angry.  "'Sides," he added softly.  "You need someone to watch your back." 

Buffy drew herself up defensively.  She didn't need anyone.  She ignored his comment, remaining focused upon his sudden reappearance in her life.  "What happened to you and Willow?"  she asked, trying to sound distant and uncaring.  However, her eyes betrayed her feelings. His answer meant far more to her than she even cared to admit to herself.  <I need to get to the bottom of this...  Willow lied to me... Let's see if I can get Angel to tell me the truth, as UNLIKELY a prospect as that might be...> 

Angel didn't answer.  He assessed her quietly instead, taking in her frail appearance with sad eyes.  Buffy looked tired, her prettiness dulled by suffering.  The ravages of life had been particularly draining for her during these last several weeks.  Life without Giles was unbearably lonely.  Buffy hadn't realized how much Giles shared in her burden until now.  Additionally, Willow and Angel's sudden absence from her life had compounded her loneliness.  In less than a month, she'd been stripped of almost every friend she'd depended upon.  The loss was beginning to take its toll. 

Only her mother and Xander remained.  Joyce Summers remained happily oblivious to her daughter's dark fate.  Xander did the best that he could, but Buffy had slowly begun to distance herself from other people.  She wanted to endure alone, the way a Slayer should.  Angel still hadn't responded, so she prompted him.  "Willow...?" 

"Willow..." Angel parroted, yanking his straying attention back to her.  "It's over," he stated simply.  His words contained grave finality and left no room for doubt.  "We're still friends," he added, wincing as the cliché passed his lips.  The words still left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth.  Women always wanted to be friends after they finished ripping your heart out.  This was a truth which he knew all too well. 

Buffy drew in a breath quickly, perhaps from equal parts hope and outrage.  Anger moved her to speak before she thought.  "So you think that you can just come crawling back to me?"  she demanded sarcastically.  "That I'll just forgive you and take you back?  That we can just pick up where we left off?"  Angel's expression froze, his eyes icing over.  Anger flashed briefly in his eyes, before he sublimated it. 

Abruptly, she shut up, cringing at her shrewish tone and her bitchy words.  She knew damn well that they'd had no understandings.  In fact, they'd both agreed that 'this can never be'.  Horrified at what she'd just said, Buffy shifted nervously from foot to foot.  She stared miserably at the ground, wanting to stammer an apology and run.  It took Angel a god-awful long time to respond, a time during which the Slayer grew increasingly uncomfortable. 

"No," Angel replied finally.  His response was measured and careful  "I think no such thing," he promised, enunciating each word carefully.  His eyes held the truth, he didn't.  Buffy turned red, wanting to curl up and die.  She'd assumed he was here wanting to resume their relationship.  <He's probably here to deliver a cryptic warning and split!!  Way to go girl!  You just humiliated yourself!> 

"Well, you know what she's trying to accomplish by sending you here, don't you?" she asked, going on the offensive to cover her humiliation. Somehow, she failed to notice her own inherent assumption that Willow had 'sent' Angel to her.  Angel said nothing to correct her suspicions. Instead, he confirmed them. 

"Yeah," Angel answered quietly.  "I know.  She's pretty transparent." Beyond that, he made no further comment. 

"Well you can just turn around and leave," Buffy informed him bluntly. "I don't need charity and I don't need looking after!"  She pulled herself up to her full and impressive height of five foot six.  "Go back to Willow," she ordered.  Buffy glared hard at Angel, giving him her meanest ~Slayer~ look.  However, her threat lacked substance and Angel knew it; he wasn't fazed at all.  Buffy backed down first.  Frustrated, she threw up her hands and turned to walk off. 

Angel sighed, gently catching her upper arm.  He didn't use enough force to restrain her, but his touch made her glance up at him.  He rallied his courage and met her unwavering gaze.  He knew that Willow was counting on him to convince Buffy to accept his help.  Otherwise, their sacrifice had been made in vain. 

For a long moment, words eluded him.  He tried to think of something to say that would convince Buffy not to force him away.  He wanted to say worthy of the sacrifice they'd made for her.  He needed to say something both honest and sincere.  He intended to start off on the right foot with her this time.  This time, things would be different. 

Surprisingly, words came more easily to him than he'd thought possible.  "Willow and I love each other Buffy," he told her with great passion and conviction.  "But together, and individually, we love you more." 

Buffy froze numbly in place, stunned and frightened.  Angel had just offered himself up on a silver platter and she didn't know what to do. Confusion pervaded her mind, disordering her thoughts.  She reacted defensively, instinctively shoving him away.  "NO!!" she protested. 

"Yes," he corrected, sounding very much the adult.  "It's not charity. It's not about duty. It's not a lie."  He hesitated, struggling to articulate his feelings.  "I'm staying for myself as much as for you. Both you and Willow trusted me when you had no reason to.  I want to find some way to repay that."  He tilted his head slightly, never dropping her gaze.  "And Willow and I couldn't leave you alone.  We both love you," he reiterated.  "*I* love you," he breathed, finally stating the naked truth.  He'd fought against this so hard and denied it for so long, that saying it felt unnatural. 

Buffy sucked in a sharp breath.  She quickly squashed the impulse to throw her arms around him and confess her own love.  She needed to work this through first.  Angel wasn't behaving according to her expectations of him.  She found it absolutely unnerving.  <This conversation is NOT normal...!!  This ISN'T Angel...  He must be some sort of impostor...> 

"I'm not leaving," he asserted, almost growling.  Angel grumbled something to himself about being sick and tired of women upending his life and his emotions.  Sometimes, a man needed to put his foot down. "Besides," he muttered absently.  "I can't leave.  It's not that simple." 

Buffy seized the opportunity to talk about something other than love. "Why not?!" she demanded.  "You've never had problems being elusive before!" she exclaimed, feeling at an utter loss. Normally, Angel appeared unexpectedly, offered a cryptic hint, and vanished.  Demands for emotional intimacy were skillfully evaded.  Requests for relationship accountability were futile.  Buffy's Angel was elusive, cryptic, and distant.  This Angel was blunt, aggressive, and assertive. Hence, Buffy's conviction that this was NOT Angel. 

"Because."  He hesitated, drawing in closer to her.  Something in his manner captured her attention immediately, telling her that what he said next would be profound.  Angel unconsciously spread beseeching hands and rolled his eyes to the heavens.  "I'm your new Watcher." 

Buffy nearly fell over.  Her jaw dropped open and her eyes rounded. "WHAT?!" she gasped.  The Slayer emitted a high-pitched nervous laugh. She couldn't believe what she'd just heard.  "You're kidding right?" she finally managed.  Angel shifted uncomfortably, watching her with dark eyes.  "Angel...?" Buffy pleaded, becoming distressed.  "This is, like, a joke?  Right...?" 

"I almost wish it were," he sighed. The words sounded strange to his own ears.  Angel found Buffy's bewilderment to be perfectly understandable.  He still hadn't quite gotten a handle on the concept yet himself.  "It's absurd, but I'm your new Watcher," he reiterated. He shook his head, still reeling at the beautiful irony.  The Slayer's new Watcher was a vampire.  No one but a certain redhead ingenue ever would have even imagined such a thing, let alone made it happen. 

Buffy didn't look like she'd recover coherency any time soon, so Angel kept talking.  Better to explain everything now, before the Slayer recovered.  If Buffy lost her temper, he couldn't begin to predict what she might do.  "Willow made a deal with Guillaume.  She agreed to help close the Hellmouths when the time comes, in exchange for me."  This last almost emerged with a snarl.  Angel felt very much like a betrothed bride, or a bartered mule.  It was absolutely humiliating. 

With conscious effort, he brought his temper under control.  Buffy's expression remained blank, almost glassy-eyed.  Angel leaned forward, peering into those pretty blue orbs.  They blinked back at him.  He sighed and kept talking.  "The Family's to provide a reasonable amount of protection for you and Willow agreed to keep you from slaying them, for the time being."  Angel shrugged, to demonstrate his confusion. He'd known that Willow viewed the Family far more objectively than he did, but he'd never imagined that she'd make a deal  "It's more of a quid pro quo understanding than an actual treaty." 

"They can't do this," she finally muttered, sounding dazed.  Abruptly, her eyes flashed, the old Buffy fire lighting up her eyes.   "It won't work!"  Buffy threw her hands up in the air and suddenly walked off, leaving Angel standing there alone.  He stared after her, wondering where she was going.  Home was in the opposite direction.  Buffy kept going, so Angel finally took off after her, sprinting to catch up.  As he fell into step beside her, she mumbled, "I mean, there's no way! This is ridiculous!" 

"Tell me about it," Angel agreed, nodding fervently.  "I told Willow that you'd never go for it, but she wouldn't listen to me." 

They walked for a while, going nowhere.  Buffy's thoughts were racing and her feet followed suit.  Angel found the exercise to be a welcome diversion, so he trotted along beside her silently.  Abruptly, Buffy glanced over at him.  "But you did...?  I mean, go for it...?" 

Angel hesitated, sensing that his next words might make or break this deal.  He kept his voice deliberately casual.  "Sure, why not."  He shrugged philosophically.  "It's basically the same job that I've been doing for the last eighty years, only with benefits.  For instance, since you know I'm trying to help, hopefully you won't stake me."  He gave her a sly smile, to show that he was kidding.  Still, Buffy looked momentarily fazed. 

Angel sighed.  "Look, Buffy, I understand your not wanting to get stuck with me," he assured her.  "Willow said that if you say no, that's it. End of story.  It'll take her a couple weeks to arrange a replacement for me, of course."  He absently reached up to rub his neck.  His muscles were crimping due to female-induced stress.  "As soon as your new Watcher's here, I'm on the next boat to Jamaica." 

Buffy blinked, beginning to feel annoyed with Angel's random subject hopping.  <Geez, now that he's talking it's as if he expects me to read his mind and fill in the gaps...>   "Jamaica...?" she asked, sounding perplexed.  She understood the part about it being her choice and Angel leaving.  <But why Jamaica...?!  That makes no sense at all...!!> 

"Jamaica," he confirmed, with a grimace.  "If you say no, then Willow is giving me to that other Slayer, Kendra."  He cast her a quick sideways glance.  To his boundless relief and pleasure, Buffy's hackles seemed to rise at the words 'giving me to'.  Angel found the idea of being shipped off to Jamaica distasteful, to say the least.  He also held no doubts whatsoever that Willow would do so.  "You know, from the Slayer activation mix-up?  She's the--" 

"YEAH," Buffy snarled.  "I KNOW who She is," she replied with irritation.  Willow had told Buffy all about Kendra.  Buffy's pride was still bruised over the snafu.  This constituted a major affront to her dignity, especially since SHE was accustomed to being special.  <*I'M* THE CHOSEN ONE.  Not this Jamaican chick...  I just wish we could do that 'There can be only one' thing and duke it out...  I *don't* like the idea of a cheap Slayer clone, sullying my rep...> 

"Jamaica...?!" she drawled, trying to envision Angel in a floral shirt, boxers, and sunglasses.  The image made her snicker.  "And you don't mind?" she asked, her voice rife with disbelief.  Angel looked mildly put off over her humor at his expense.  He'd been hoping that she'd save him from this awful fate, out of pity if nothing else. 

"I have lived a lot more places than just the Hellmouth, you know," he grumbled.  "Jamaica is kind of hot and humid," he conceded.  "And the days are longer near the equator," he added, wincing.  Mentally, he tallied the island's good and bad points.  Suddenly, his expression brightened considerably.   "But the girls are pret--OOF!!" 

Buffy's elbow 'accidentally' collided with Angel's midsection, cutting him off mid-pretty.  "I suppose if I give you to Kendra, they're going to send me some stuffy old fogey who wears tweed and eats scones?" she asked.  Angel clutched his gut almost comically, slowly recovering from her elbow shot.  Absently, Buffy rubbed her elbow.  <Geez, he's got hard abs...> 

"The oldest," Angel agreed brightly.  He gifted her with an innocent smile, straightening himself cautiously.  His guarded eyes regarded her elbow with new found respect.  He managed to seem overly cheerful with the prospect of Buffy's theoretically decrepit Watcher.  "And the fogiest." 

"And I suppose that you think that I should prefer a cryptic, smart-mouthed vampire?" Buffy demanded.  Angel responded with his best smug cryptic guy smile.  He almost looked ready to suggest something inappropriate concerning things that smart-mouthed vampires did better than old fogies.  Then, he wisely shut his mouth at the last moment. 

Abruptly, the light in his eyes dimmed, then died.  Angel broke her gaze, glancing unhappily down at the ground.  Buffy didn't know what caused the change but it was dramatic.  Within a heartbeat his teasing facade evaporated.  "No reason you should," he mumbled, turning slightly away from her. 

Buffy exhaled harshly.  She could see him visibly retreating into himself.  Apparently, his uncharacteristically chatty mood was over. Despite the implausibility of a vampire Watcher, she found herself giving the concept serious consideration.  Angel and his strange mood swings weren't helping matters though.  Buffy circled him, until she stood directly in front of him.  Then she decided to just go ahead and ask him what she really wanted to know.  "Angel, what are you really doing here?" she demanded, unable to help herself.  She HAD to know. "What do YOU want?" 

A long, excruciatingly painful pause followed before he spoke. "Another chance," he finally replied.  "Friendship. To watch your back. To guard you while you sleep without feeling shame.  To follow you without having to hide."  He shrugged, listing some of the things he wanted.  "I don't expect, or even imagine romantic involvement, especially after everything that's happened."  He hesitated again and his jaw clenched.  Then he took a chance and stepped blindly into rejection's path. 

"I want to be your Watcher, Buffy," he stated, meeting her gaze head-on.  He kept his expression as open and as honest as he could possibly manage.  "Strictly platonic, of course," he amended hastily. Buffy's inscrutable eyes evaluated him carefully.  Angel began to feel uneasy as her unnerving silence continued.  It led him to wondering if this was how humans felt around him. 

"I know all of the mandatory occult lore," he informed her, sincerely trying to convince her of his worth.  "I've read most of the books."  An involuntary grin crept onto his face.  "I even have the official tweed jacket," he elaborated.  The jacket had been a parting gift from Willow.  Abruptly, his smile evaporated.  He shut up, waiting for Buffy's reaction.  She stood there for what seemed centuries.  Certainly for longer than the two he'd already lived. 

Buffy tried to weigh out the pros and the cons objectively.  She hated the idea of anyone replacing Giles, even Angel.  Fact of the matter was though, that someone had to.  She considered the idea of a vampire Watcher who she knew she could trust without prejudice.  <It might not be so bad...  Willow is only a phone call away to handle research... Angel won't harp on me about duty...  He can handle himself well in a fight...  *I love him...*> 

<That last thought certainly wasn't objective...!!>  Buffy yanked her attention back to reality and glanced up, startled.  Angel was busy explaining purely platonic friendship to her, as if she couldn't grasp the concept. Apparently, he intended to stay out of her way when she wanted to date boys, and promised to compartmentalize his feelings, etc.  Buffy frowned.  <He doesn't really believe what he's saying does he...?  This is just a ploy to ease the tension...?>  Suspiciously, she peered into his eyes.  He *seemed* utterly sincere. 

"Yeah, sure," Buffy agreed innocently.  "Purely platonic friendship sounds great," she bubbled, bouncing cheerfully.  A sudden frown darkened his 'sincere' expression.  Buffy hid a secret, feminine smile of knowing.  She'd thought as much.  "What about training?  You know, it requires fighting.  Physically." 

"Believe it or not, I'm a decent fighter," Angel grumbled, sounding defensive.  "I have more stamina and strength than a human Watcher.  And I might even be able to teach you a thing or two about antique weapons."  He desperately struggled to keep his voice neutral.  He felt afraid to allow himself the hope that Buffy was offering him.  He kept reminding himself that she hadn't said yes, only asked a question.  His subconscious kept whispering that she hadn't said no either. 

Buffy's expression grew dour.  More unpleasant memories came back to her, more nightmares.  "THAT'S NOT what I was worried about," she corrected him.  "What if IT happens again?" she mumbled, shuddering. She didn't even want to put a name to 'it', as if naming gave power. She didn't even want to think about their fight and the nightmares. 

Angel didn't hesitate.  "You'd win,"  he assured her hastily.  "You're the Slayer," he stated with confidence.  Of course, if such a thing ever occurred again he intended to let her win.  He looked away, leaving that part unsaid.  Buffy knew though.  "I'll just make sure not to walk up behind you anymore without making a ton of noise," Angel promised glibly.  They both knew it was a promise which he couldn't keep.  Angel understood the concept of walking noisily, but it was likely something which he'd never master. 

Buffy laughed softly.  She hurt deep down, an unhealed wound that ate at her insides.  Pain echoed through her soul, but at least she wasn't alone anymore.  She sniffled slightly and a tear seeped out from under her closed eyelid.  Angel's finger caught it.  "All right," Buffy conceded, her voice tearing.  "I'll give you a chance.  Two week trial 
run, no promises." She opened her eyes and sought his. 

"Done."  Angel gave her a quirky half-smile and extended a hand.  Buffy accepted it and they shook, cementing what would become one of the most successful Watcher-Slayer teams in history.  A second later, a startled Buffy found herself hauled into a hard, fast--and purely platonic--hug. 

Thursday, September 7, 2017  8:00PM 

Willow glanced thoughtfully over at the handsome, bearded man walking next to her.  Alexander Harris had aged well.  At thirty-six he was still lean, fit, and muscular.  Willow herself hadn't aged a day beyond sixteen.  She carried herself with confidence and grace, the shy awkwardness of her teenage years long forgotten.  However, she could have been the daughter of the man who walked beside her.  It was so strange, to stare at him and wonder about what might have been.  <If things had been different...  IF.  Big if.  But things aren't different.  I've changed more than any of us, and yet, I've changed the least...  I just can't believe that it's been twenty years already...> 

As Xander droned on, Willow found herself mentally reviewing those years.  Xander had joined the navy right out of high school.  He served a distinguished tour of duty aboard a cruiser, twice earning medals. After four years he'd accepted an honorable discharge.  Soon afterwards, Xander married his childhood sweetheart, Cordelia Chase.  He and his new wife settled down in Los Angeles, where both could comfortably pursue their individual careers. 

Cordelia eventually became a world-renowned fashion designer of Cordelia ChaseTM apparel, and president of Cordelia Chase, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Chase Industries International, Inc.  Xander held various odd jobs, including detention officer in a prison, firefighter, and used car salesman.  Eventually, his talent for humor led him into standup comedy.  There he finally found his true calling. His Hollywood career blossomed, and eventually Xander became a TV producer/writer.  He created his own gothic horror/comedy show which mirrored the misadventures of his troubled youth.  On more than one occasion Willow was forced to call Xander out over his too-close-to-truth portrayal of 'Sunnyside, CA'. 

"Will-?" Xander interrupted her thoughts.  Willow glanced inquisitively over at him.  "Are you still in there?" he asked, knocking teasingly on her forehead.  "Or are you lost in inner space?" he joked.  Willow made a 'um-hmming' sound, bobbing her head intently to show that she was still listening.  Satisfied, Xander resumed his babbling, complaining about the rampant 'spoiler' leakage which seemed to occur on his set more often than it did in the White House.  Willow contemplatively returned to her internal reflections and memories. 

Willow had attended MIT, majoring in Computer Science.  She graduated top of her class within three years and went on to complete a Master's degree in history.  She'd also spent the last twenty years mastering her telepathic and Watcher skills.  She became known as Willow the Reformer behind her back.  She'd implemented massive and sweeping changes throughout the entire Watcher organization.  These included an on-line 'Fiend Folio' database, and Watcher sensitivity courses designed to increase awareness among the troops regarding the needs of sixteen year old Slayers.  For all her progress, however, the official Watcher dress code remained tweed.  <*Sigh.*  Some things NEVER change.  Well, maybe if I give it more time.> 

Willow tried to keep in touch with all of her childhood friends and acquaintances.  She'd corresponded regularly with Jenny Calendar for three years.  Eventually, the pretty computer teacher had moved on without leaving a forwarding address.  Willow never managed to locate her again, even though she'd searched.  She'd also maintained close contact with Sean and not so close contact with Guillaume over the years.  She eventually worked out a solid treaty with the Kindred.  Her feelings of optimism regarding the long-term viability of this treaty were actively encouraged by the success of Sean's rituals.  Throughout the Family, incidents of blood-lust related violence, and people being killed for food were on a steady decline. 

Willow was a wonderful Watcher, but an even better daughter and big sister.  Her parents bore a healthy baby girl, much to Guillaume's endless delight.  He'd been busy bemoaning the end of Jenna's bloodline with regards to female offspring.  They'd named their daughter Jenna, in her grandmother's honor.  Guillaume doted over the child, spoiling her hopelessly.  Jenna eventually grew up to become a precocious young debutante who sometimes reminded Willow of a young Cordy.  She sighed. <Ah well, there's still hope for her yet...  Cordy wound up being nice enough once Xander straightened her out...> 

Willow herself found her happiness in little bits and pieces.  She never married, or even permitted herself to become too deeply involved with anyone.  She lived life vicariously, through her family and friends.  She stood beside Buffy at her wedding as maid of honor, and again with Cordelia as a bridesmaid.  She watched, but didn't indulge herself.  She did manage to keep more than busy, both intellectually and professionally.  Her life was full in every way possible, except the romantic.  Despite two decades, she'd never replaced Angel.  <Be honest...  I've never wanted to replace Angel...> 

The years transformed Willow in ways she herself didn't understand or comprehend.  She came to regard her duty as sacred, and the Slayer as her charge.  Her soul achieved a state of grace which transcended sainthood.  Willow achieved an ever greater capacity for love than she'd previously possessed .  She gradually became a guiding light to those around her, even to those who preferred to dwell away from the light. Eventually, she set aside her last vestiges of pain and bitterness over losing Angel and acknowledged to herself that she loved Buffy as much, if not more, than he did. 

Willow realized Xander was addressing her instead of complaining.  She tore herself out of her reverie and refocused her attention on him.  ".I just don't know, Will," he said.  Xander shook his head.  "I just don't think that Cordy and I will ever get used to the idea that Emily's going to be the Slayer."  He stopped for a moment, overcome with sad memories. 

Willow sighed, her expression lengthening with sympathy.  She reached out and touched Xander's upper arm, rubbing it soothingly.  Cordelia and Xander had two children, both girls.  Emily, their youngest, had turned four today.  Almost four years ago, Willow had been forced to inform them that someday their newborn daughter would be called upon to fulfill the duties of the Slayer.  They'd been first shocked, then angry, and eventually somewhat accepting.  <They took it better than could be expected.  Given the circumstance.> 

"I can already see the physical grace, the strength, the endurance beginning to manifest themselves," Xander lamented.  He continued to shake his head sadly.  "I look at her and I can almost see Buffy, even though they look nothing alike," he complained, still angry with the hand which fate had dealt him.  Willow could empathize closely with her friend.  She too, would never have expected the fate she'd been handed twenty years before.  <God!!  Twenty years, it's amazing.  It went so quickly.  Has it really been twenty years since I became Immortal Watcher.?  Twenty-years since Giles died.?  Five years since Buffy died.?> 

Buffy and Angel had remained a team for the Slayer's entire life. They'd married when Buffy turned nineteen.  After she graduated from high school, they spent some time moving around the country, ridding the world of evil.  Buffy attended junior college in Las Vegas, where she and Angel opened an office supply warehouse.  It burned to the ground nine months later as the result of 'arson'.  Buffy's brief career in law enforcement was cut short due to her inability to follow orders.  She had her badge yanked after four incidents involving disobeying orders and excessive violence in the performance of her duties.  Buffy shrugged off the failure and moved on to a much happier career in landscaping. 

Angel discovered a previously unrealized passion for writing.  He proved to be a moderately talented, if somewhat wordy, writer who quickly gained a fanatically loyal cult-like following.  He published a book, and even attended several book signings.  Then, word got out on the Internet among female fans that the shy vampire  was absolutely gorgeous, 'da bomb', and truly a 'hottie'.  During the next book signing in LA, Angel's clothes were torn from his body by rabid female fans. Soon thereafter, he stopped attending signings altogether.  He eventually became infamous among both publishers and fans for being one of the most elusive popular fiction authors in the industry. 

Eventually, Buffy and Angel returned to Sunnydale to be near Buffy's mother.  At the age of twenty-five, Buffy bore a healthy baby boy by surrogate father, Alexander Harris.  She named her son Giles.  Willow was present in the delivery room during the birth.  She mentally shared every moment of pain and joy of childbirth with Buffy.  That memory became one of the most cherished and happiest of her entire life. Through Buffy, Willow finally became a mother. 

When they first handed the child to his proud papa,  Angel accepted the tiny howling bundle with tentative fear.  His awe and reverence were both amazing and truly touching to witness.  He held little Giles for a long moment,  crystalline tears streaming down his cheeks.  Then he turned to Xander.  "Want to hold our son?" he'd asked.   'Our' not 'my'.  That one word finally bridged the seemingly insurmountable gap between Angel and Xander. 

With a ready grin and a wise crack, Xander accepted the boy and, at last, Angel.  Buffy's son accomplished what no one else before ever had.  Giles united Angel and Xander, giving them something in common besides Buffy.  They both shared immense pride in and abiding love for their son.  Little Giles grew up calling both men "daddy".  Now Xander and Angel were almost buddies, although both would rather die than admit to it.  They both took an active role in raising the boy, including boy scouts, camping trips, and coaching for the peewee league. 

Tragically, Buffy's amazing Slayer metabolism seemed to collapse from exhaustion after she turned thirty.  Her body went haywire and she was diagnosed with leukemia soon after her thirtieth birthday.  She died at the age of thirty-one, after a year-long struggle with the wasting disease.  Buffy put up a valiant fight, but her body betrayed her. She'd been the longest lived and most successful Slayer ever known in history.  Her skill and strength were unmatched by the forces of darkness at the time of her passing.  Only a disease, ravaging her body from the inside, finally managed to subdue her. 

Buffy had died in the fall, five years before.  In September, to be precise.  She passed quietly into death in a sterile hospital room. She'd been pale and gaunt at the time of her passing.  She'd lacked the vibrancy which she'd possessed for most of her life.  Buffy died a pale reflection of the woman she'd been.  Her mother and closest friends, her husband and son attended her up until the very last moment.  They'd buried her beside Giles on a warm September night.  <Beside Giles...> 

Willow felt herself choking up.  She hastily blinked back tears, preferring to remember Buffy's life, not her death.  Her death still hurt too much.  Buffy's death devastated Angel.  Her passing wounded him deeply.  <I'm never going to forget the look on his face when she died. When Buffy stopped breathing, Angel stopped living...> 

After the funeral, Willow and Angel spent hours talking.  They agreed that they couldn't be together so soon.  Angel insisted that he couldn't subject her to his own divided emotions yet again.  She'd agreed, knowing the truth in her heart.  Willow sent him away, saying, "Come home when your heart has healed."  That same evening, he disappeared quietly into the night, vanishing without a trace.  She'd not heard from him since.  Once again, Willow went back to waiting patiently.  <I wonder just how "long" these last twenty years really were...?  How will I feel in another twenty...?  In a hundred...?> 

Xander and Cordelia adopted little Giles.  Only they saw and heard from Angel frequently.  Despite his grief, Angel remained a good father. Willow shook her head sadly.  Sometimes she wasn't sure which of her two dear friends she missed more.  <Or which hurts more.  Buffy's death is final.  But Angel.  He's still out there somewhere.  Still grieving.  I can't believe that twenty years ago I was foolish enough to believe that someday we could just pick up where we left off.> 

For twenty years, the link had remained dormant between them.  By mutual, unspoken consent neither of them ever activated it again after their last time together in Willow's bedroom.  Sometimes, Willow could sense Angel at the periphery of her awareness.  She felt him in dreams, and in moments of extreme pain or sorrow.  Despite temptation, she did not activate the link, nor did he.  For twenty years, he'd been faithful to Buffy even in thought.  For twenty years, Willow had been faithful to Angel, in every way possible.  Patiently she'd endured, even though waiting was torture.  <With hindsight, I'm glad I chose as I did...  It was the right decision...  Buffy was happy for the short life she was given and that's what matters...> 

Now though, this twenty year anniversary made her reexamine her commitment.  Her blind dedication to Angel had began to waver lately. Duty no longer satisfied her as time took its toll.  She wanted more. Five years constituted a long enough time period that they'd shown proper respect to Buffy's memory.  She'd thought he'd come back before this.  Willow finally forced herself to consider that maybe things had changed between them. .  <Maybe Angel doesn't want me anymore.  I can't wait forever.  Maybe it's time to put futile hopes aside and finally move on.  Maybe it's time to look to the future instead of the past.  I want to start living again...  But still, I don't want to let go.  I still love him.> 

She knew that it might be time to severe the link.  She'd considered breaking the link before and she'd always decided against it.  The link remained her one tie to Angel that no one else could touch.  She considered the link to be special, a beloved momento of their past. Times changed, people changed.  <As Angel once said...>  So lately, Willow had been seriously considering breaking the link and setting them both free.  <Before I do this I should find him and ask...  I'm through making decisions for the two of us...  Never again...> 

Willow and Xander turned a corner, nearing the old, condemned warehouse which once housed the Bronze.  The building was due to be torn down soon to make way for construction of a multiplex housing unit.  Slowly, but surely, downtown Sunnydale's historic buildings were falling to the relentless march of progress.  Willow paused, overcome by profound emotion at the sight of the familiar old building. A lump formed in her chest as memories flooded back of the time they'd spent here as teenagers.  The three of them together, before time and circumstance tore them apart.  <Before we all grew up and grew old.> 

Xander fell silent, looking shaken also.  This walk down memory lane Xander had agreed to escort her on was dangerous.  Physically and in terms of the emotional cost to them both.  She'd known this when she asked him to escort her and he'd known when he agreed.  The Hellmouth remained an active and extremely dangerous place to be caught walking alone at night.  They halted in unspoken agreement, standing in front of the Bronze's decrepit ticket booth.  "Wanna break in?"  Xander asked, speculatively examining the entrance.  It was not well secured. 

Willow considered for a moment, opening her mouth to reply.  She stopped.  Something, a prickle at the edge of her awareness set off an internal alarm.  She twisted desperately, trying to warn Xander of the danger.  "THERE'S A VAMPI--!!  OOF--!!" 

Too late.  The vampire hit them from behind, shoving Xander forward into the chained doors.  Xander landed heavily on his instinctively extended hands.  The vampire roared behind Willow, snarling directly into her ear.  The sound raised goose flesh along her arms and sent shivers down her spine.  Unexpectedly, he snatched her up and tossed her 
casually over his shoulder.  With a triumphant growl, he ran with her. She shrieked in outrage, shocked at the nerve, at the audacity of a vampire who even DARED--!! 

Abruptly, her shrieks changed in volume and expression.  Now she shrieked, at the top of her lungs, in thrilled recognition.  "ANGEL!!!" Willow squealed, pounding his back for good measure.  His laughter was his only response.  She kept shrieking and pounding, physically expressing her joy and exuberance.  With heedless abandon, she found herself luxuriating in the proprietary and intimate touch of his hands on the back of her thighs.  They dodged into an alleyway and he took the time between stopping and grabbing the fire escape to caress her bottom with friendly fingers.  <Oh God, his nerve...!!!  Typical, taking and not asking!!  And carrying off the Immortal Watcher, like I'm some sort of prize!!!> 

Willow giggled, feeling just like a schoolgirl again.  They mounted the fire escape and began to ascend, taking the turns fast and furious. Angel never hesitated and never broke stride.  Behind them, Willow heard Xander shouting in pursuit.  Within moments they were on the roof. 

With a quick flip, Willow flew off Angel's shoulder and landed in his arms.  She caught a brief glimpse of a huge grin before he tossed her into the air with all of his strength.  Willow sailed through the air, shrieking her surprise.  She flew through the chill night air, reveling in the freedom of flight.  She spread her arms like wings and never worried about landing.  She knew Angel would catch her.  The night sky spun by in a dizzy, kaleidoscope of color and light.  Too quickly her flight ended. 

Angel's strong arms caught her.  He held her aloft, his hands beneath her arms, and raised her up like a ballerina.  He lifted her to the sky, staring up at Willow with wonder.  "Glorious," he murmured, lifting her higher.  Their smooth, coordinated movements resembled a dance.   Their dance became a celebration of their joy in being together again.  Angel handled her very much like a captured treasure.  Both laughed together as they spun, reveling in life and their reunion.  Eventually, their dance slowed.  Angel slowly lowered Willow to her feet, but did not relinquish his hold upon her.   "Seabhaicín..." he breathed. 

Neither really noticed Xander reach the top of the fire escape, his stake at the ready.  Upon seeing the happy young woman dancing with her vampire, he performed a double-take.  "Christ" Xander swore, absently putting the stake away.  "You scared me half to death, dead-boy," he informed Angel with a glare.  Angel cast a sideways glance over at Xander. 

"Sorry, Harris," Angel apologized glibly.  He grinned, showing a hint of fang.  He obviously apologized only for the sake of formality and appeared totally unrepentant.  "Too good an opportunity to pass up," he added with a smirk.  His eyebrows lifted in an arched challenge to the other man.  "For old times sake."  Subconsciously, his hands settled possessively on Willow's shoulders.  He pulled her tight against his chest, to his heart, in an almost desperate hug. 

Willow wrapped her arms around his waist and quivered.  She closed her eyes, unable to believe that he'd finally come home.  With a snort of disgust, Xander turned and started back down the fire escape.  His hotel was a short walk from here and those two obviously wanted to be alone. 

Angel's entire body trembled as he clutched her to his chest.  "I woke up tonight and I suddenly realized that I was about to lose you," he whispered brokenly.  "I knew that I'd waited too long.  I could feel you starting to break the link and it scared me to death.  I had to get to you before it was too late."  He pulled away from her enough to peer down into her eyes.  "Please tell me that it's not too late, Willow," he pleaded.  "Tell me that I didn't wait too long." 

Willow opened her mouth to speak, but no words emerged.  Hastily, she gulped down air, feeding her distressed lungs.  Tears ran down her cheeks in silver streams and she shook her head slightly, unable to speak.  Their eyes locked, his despairing, hers stunned.  Each searched for the truth, for the trust and love they'd set aside twenty years before for the sake of friendship.  Both liked what they found in the other's eyes.  Angel relaxed, reassured immensely by the love he found shining there.  He closed his eyes for the longest moment in prayer, silently thanking god for not having taken her from him too.  Then, he resolutely cast his doubts and fears aside.  He leaned forward, taking her mouth in a gentle ravishing, his tongue gently plundering her depths. 

She remained passive, allowing him to set the course this would take. Her body and will were supplicant to his.  He picked her up and held her dangling between his strong hands.  His tender exploration took her right back to their first kiss.  The kiss morphed rapidly, becoming powerful and seductive.  He reawakened her body to a gamut of forgotten sensations.  Willow moaned and quivered, torn helplessly between heaven and hell.  Her world began and ended in his mouth. 

Willow's back collided with the same cold, metal door he had pinned her to twenty years before.  She shrieked as the cold metal seeped through the back of her blouse.  Angel pressed his body intimately against hers, pinning her to the door.  She yipped again when he seized her wrists and raised them up above her head.  He pressed them against the door and then his fingers began a slow descent along her arms. 

Willow held her arms compliantly above her head, as if chained there. He traced both of her arms from wrist to elbow and then lower.  He touched her as if enraptured, savoring every minute sensation. Eventually, Angel's mouth drifted from hers.  His mouth closed on her throat, directly below her ear.  Willow sighed, turning her head to permit him greater access and clenched her small hands into fists. 

Angel, Master of Oral Pressure Points, worked his own unique magic on her nerve endings.  His dominating manner made it clear that he expected her to submit.  Willow sighed, more than willing to submit to anything he chose to visit upon her starved body.  She surrendered, utterly content to let him have his way.  As far as Willow was concerned, he could take anything from her he damn well pleased.  <Too long.  It's been too long.> 

Angel hiked her skirt, his lower body settling between her thighs.  Willow locked her legs around his hips and nearly died as he came to support her lower body with his own.  She could feel him straining against her through their clothes.  Angel's hands found and cupped her small breasts, rubbing and kneading them through her blouse.  His manner was wholly possessive and his eyes held a hint of almost adolescent eagerness, lusting after what every man secretly covets from puberty until the grave. 

With reckless abandon, he tore open her blouse.  The buttons popped off and went flying in all directions.  His dark eyes lit up appreciatively as they settled on her breasts.  Then, shock widened his eyes as they settled upon the silver ring and chain nestled between her breasts.  He sucked in a harsh breath, deeply moved and raised grateful eyes to her own.   "Mine," he purred darkly, claiming her.  The word held the slightest hint of uncertainty.  He desperately wanted and needed reassurance.  She chuckled softly, loving the memories and sensations he evoked.  She silently rejoiced in the symbolic nature of his words. 

"Yes, yours," she vowed, promising him forever.  She opened herself to him completely, giving herself to him once again. .  With his eyes and his mouth, Angel staked his claim on Willow.  The link flared to life between them.  Instinctively, their minds sought and found each other.  They touched and intertwined, old lovers discovering one another anew.  <I've missed you, husband...> 

"I've missed you too," Angel whispered.  Their minds melted together, their bodies soon to follow.  They completed each other.  One mind, one heart, one soul.  Angel and Willow both began to live again.  <I'm home now, Seabhaicín...>