Something was different. The air hung about Sunnydale
like an ancient
and decaying death shroud. The nights had been normal,
as normal as
they ever were on the Hellmouth, but a dark finger tapped
a warning on
the slayer's shoulder and whispered voiceless secrets
in her ears. Or
maybe she was slowly losing her mind. She was way beyond
her life
expectancy, in slayer years, at any rate. She liked to
kid herself that
her longevity was a testament to her prowess, but in
reality, she
figured it was more likely due to dumb luck and the help
of some
trusted friends.
Giles watched his charge from his office doorway. Though
she was still
a young woman, the dark experiences of her past had left
scars behind
the youthful exuberance of her eyes. Loosing Willow had
been the most
difficult. Buffy had undergone a harrowing journey from
anger to
abandonment to guilt and, finally, to heartbreaking acceptance.
Had she
the years' maturity then that she had now, she might
have handled the
whole disaster differently, and Willow might still be
here.
The watcher had never been one to dwell on could-have-beens.
In his
position, such self-indulgence could not be afforded.
But he knew,
after more than half a decade, the slayer still returned
to that
grievous episode, still blamed herself for its outcome.
He admired her
for having gotten past it at all.
"Giles," Buffy spoke as she caught sight of him out of
the corner of
her eye.
"Hello, Buffy," he smiled.
They sat down at the library table. Although Buffy had
graduated years
before, she still spent many hours here. She felt as
if she knew every
corner and cobweb in the familiar room.
"Anything wrong?" he asked, studying her face.
The slayer shrugged, "I don't know. I've had this feeling
over the past
couple of days. I can't explain it, really. You haven't
heard
anything?"
"No," he answered. "Everything seems to be as usual."
"Maybe it's Xander," she smiled softly. "His wedding is
just three
weeks away. We're losing another one."
Giles placed a hand over hers, "He isn't going anywhere.
Their work is
here. He'll be here."
"I know, but it'll change. It'll have to, with his wife
to think of.
And when Kirsten gets pregnant with a little Xander,
that'll knock him
out of our lineup permanently."
He looked at her silently.
"Oh, well," she sighed, trying to infuse a note of cheerfulness
into
her voice. "Life goes on. Things change."
"How's Angel?" Giles asked.
"I haven't seen him for a few days," she admitted. "It's
hard. You
know."
"After all this time, Buffy, can't you two work through this?"
"You'd think so, wouldn't you?" she replied. "I can't
help my feelings,
though. I know he betrayed me, sided with them."
"No, you don't know that," he told her.
Buffy sighed, "Okay, so he's never admitted it, but I
know him. I
promised not to go after Willow, and when I couldn't
keep that promise,
he took matters into his own hands."
"Even if that's true, that water long ago flowed under
that bridge," he
pointed out.
"Maybe not. Maybe it flowed into a little pool where it's
been
stagnating all this time," she replied.
"Then you'd better find a way to release it because if
something is
going on, I don't know about it, and neither do you.
Angel may be our
best source of information," he advised her.
"I know," she agreed. "I'll go talk to him tonight."
"Let me know if--"
"I will," she smiled. "I'll talk to you later."
***
Angel opened the door and motioned Buffy inside. He'd
left the old,
gutted mansion a year ago and taken an apartment in town.
The landlord
was more interested in money than in the quality of his
tenants. His
initial protests at Angel's having painted the windows
black had been
silenced by the large roll of bills the vampire had shoved
into his
hand.
Buffy's eyes wandered around the stark room. Angel watched
her with
characteristic patience. Finally, her eyes turned to
him.
"How are you?" she asked.
"I'm fine, Buffy," he answered. "Is there something you need?"
She took a breath and sat down on the faded brown armchair,
"Have you
heard anything lately?"
"Anything?" he asked.
"I've just had this feeling that something's happening,
or is about to
happen. Have you heard anything new, anything I should
know about?"
Angel looked at the beautiful blonde. He had loved her,
not so long
ago, with such an intensity it had brought hell itself
to its knees.
No, he reminded himself. That had not been their love;
that had been
the devoted friendship of a young, naive redhead.
Buffy was watching him, waiting for his response.
"No," he lied with ease. "I haven't heard anything. I'm
sorry; that's
not what you wanted to hear."
She shook her head, "It's okay. To be honest, I half expected
that
answer. I should be on patrol. I wouldn't mind some company."
Angel hesitated, torn between spending some time with
this woman he
still cared deeply about and needing to keep a distance
from her.
"All right," he consented, deciding it might be helpful
to keep an eye
on Sunnydale's streets now that Spike and Willow were
here.
***
"We could start with her," Willow suggested as they watched
Xander's
fiancee get into his car.
"What exactly did you have in mind, pet?" Spike asked.
"Well, we could play with her for awhile. It would be
fun to watch
Xander squirm with worry," she smiled.
"If we take her, we can't give her back," he told her.
Willow considered this for a moment, "Maybe we could."
Spike turned his head and looked at her, "Willow, what
are you
thinking?"
"We wouldn't have to kill her. We could change her instead."
"Baby, I don't want that man's intended following at our
heels for the
rest of infinity," he said.
She smiled up at him, "There are all kinds of ways to change a person."
Spike draped an arm across her shoulders.
"I'm going to like playing with you, pet," he chuckled.
End.