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What Is To Be

By Annie

2003-08-13

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One year later.

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It was dark where she was. It was pitch black and when she suddenly stumbled she drew a sharp breath in fear of falling without ever stopping, afraid of being swallowed by the night. She was lost, though she knew she had headed out in search of something. If she could only find it...

She stopped and listened as she thought she had heard a noise behind her.

There was only silence.

What was this place?

It smelled of earth and rock and age.

She carefully reached out a hand and soon it touched the rough surface of a stone wall.

A cavern.

Yes, she could smell water. Not much further.

She steadied herself and began to move forward again, listening to the rhythmic thumping of her pulse in her ears and the slight scratch of her feet as she placed them tentatively on the ground with each new step.

The suddenness of light stinging her eyes made her freeze and raise one hand to shield her face from the unfamiliarity of it as her sight quickly adjusted. She squinted, lowering her arm again as she stared at the well in the cavern floor before her. The water in it glittered invitingly and she realized how incredibly thirsty she was.

She must have been walking for hours.

The light came from below the still surface and as she approached it a ray shot up and gently graced the ceiling. She furrowed her brow as she tilted her head back and looked at the spot on which it now rested. There was an "A" carved into the stone and around it glowed a white ring. It was as though the light imbedded itself into the carving of the latter, circling within its dents and crannies and making it shimmer.

She sunk to her knees, her eyes once more going to the water and her throat drying up even further at the thought of letting the liquid slide over her tongue. Bending forward she plunged her hands deep beneath the surface, letting the coolness of the water envelope her fingers before she cupped her palms and brought both of them as a bowl to her lips.

She drank greedily but deeply, her eyes closed and her mind filling with growing dizziness.

She didn't know where the sudden urge came from, but it overpowered her completely and before she had a chance to truly react she had thrown the last of the liquid away from her with a yell of disgust and as she opened her eyes they grew wide with that very emotion.

The well was glimmering red as the blood it now contained rippled from her movement. The coppery taste stuck to every single cell of her mouth and she stared in abhorrer as she scrambled backwards.

The light had been extinguished, but an eerie residue seemed to linger against the walls and she could still see her surroundings as she got to her feet.

She blinked and then raised her gaze to the ceiling again.

The "A" was smudged in a very strange way and the ring had turned black.

Suddenly the surface of the blood gave way for something. The darkened shape of something now bopped calmly on it and she eyed it in suspicion before it hit her. She recognized it and it wasn't a something at all - it was a someone.

She was by the edge in the next instant, reaching out her arms and grabbing the shoulder which was all that was really showing. Pulling the body forcefully to her and dragging it up, the legs still in the thick liquid as she rolled it over and stared down at the pale face of someone gone forever.

But he was there...

Oh, God, let him be okay. Let him live.

She was trembling as she bent over him and let her hands gently stroke his cheeks, his brow, his hair.

Open your eyes. Look at me. Spike...

He coughed and stirred slightly before he did as she pleaded and eased his eyes open. They looked at her in wonderment, disoriented for a second before he smiled and reached up one hand to slide it over her cheek.

"Buffy," he whispered and she returned the smile as the tears that had been building ran over.

Suddenly he was lifted into the air and she was thrown away from him with such force that she lost her breath when she hit the ground.

"It is upon us," he said and she heard the sound of her own scream as he burst into flames.

***

The backdrop of the high French window before which she stood illuminated her petite form and made her seem unearthly. Her head slightly bowed as if in prayer, though her eyes were open. Staring down at the street below - unseeing. Had someone walked by the doorway and thrown her a glance they might have thought them vacant, but if they stopped, if they stood there for a while and watched her they would see how her gaze suddenly flashed with something close to anguish.

Willow had been studying her for nearly fifteen minutes, standing in the doorway of the large drawing room and as always feeling unsettled that her friend's resource of immense instinct seemed to fail her whenever she detoured into the state she was in right then. There had been no sign whatsoever that Buffy knew she was being observed.

The Wicca worried about the Slayer, but the former had given up trying to talk to the blonde about anything related with the town in which they had shared so many milestones of their still young lives. Buffy simply smiled and shook her head that it was their past, and that they shouldn't dwell. Sunnydale was gone.

Willow knew what that meant, and what was really gone. But she caved in as she could always see the daunting pain somewhere behind the light in the green of the other's eyes. She couldn't push something that might ultimately do more harm than good, and so she chose to let it all lie...

Still, she had come there with a purpose and so she silently entered the room, approaching her friend to stop right by her side.

"Buffy," she said, voice soft as she placed a hand on the other's shoulder. "Buffy," she repeated and the blonde blinked before she turned her head lazily to meet the redhead's gaze.

"Willow?" she asked and Willow smiled at that.

Where do you go? she wanted to ask. To what place does that state take you that is so hard to get away from?

But she held her tongue stubbornly and instead she said:

"I've been looking for you. Dawn's here."

At these news Buffy seemed to be brought in full back to reality and she gave Willow a surprised look before she asked:

"She's here? When did she get here?"

"Half an hour ago," Willow replied. "I..."

"Half an hour ago?!" Buffy interrupted. "It couldn't possibly have taken you that long to find me, this house isn't THAT big! I thought I asked you to get me straight away, Will."

"You did, I just..." Willow tried, but Buffy merely gave her another skeptical look before walking passed her and heading out of the room. "...didn't know if I should disturb you," the redhead finished quietly, pausing for a second before she slowly followed in the other's wake.

***

Two hours later Buffy smiled brightly at her sister and the younger returned it before going back to the book she was reading with great interest. The reunite had been a happy one and now Buffy had an air of calm and joy about her that had been missing for a long time.

"Anything good?" the blonde inquired and Dawn nodded intently, this time not letting the page go with her eyes.

Buffy kept the smile on and continued through the large living room, out onto the terrace of the Victorian inspired building which was the home of Giles and consequently also the current home of Dawn, when the younger Summers sister was out of school.

It had been Buffy's own idea since she wanted her sister to finish her education as well as have a spot on the Earth that could serve as some sort of haven, a point of safety. Buffy, on the other hand, had given up the thought of roots and she had let the wind carry her wherever it wanted for the duration of eight-and-a-half months.

It had been hard to be away from Dawn, but since her sister had told her understanding of the Slayer's need to keep moving she hadn't been able to relinquish the need and thus she had traveled. She had seen the world... And in every city she had subconsciously looked for marks left behind by the hands of history as it wrote the tale of the Scourge. She had wondered, walking the streets, if she in that moment was putting her feet at the same spot as him... Had he seen that mountain? Had he gone swimming in that lake? Had he chosen the road she was choosing?

Every step of the way he had somehow, everyhow, been there with her. She hadn't been fully aware of it, not at first... But as the weeks grew into months she came to sense him in a way that was close to eerie.

In the back of her head was a constant whisper that she refused to acknowledge because if she did she was sure to lose her mind, one way or another.

It said that if she merely waited she would see him again. That he wasn't lost to her, not completely.

Last summer had gone by in stillness. She had enjoyed the fact that she no longer had to shoulder the cape of the slayer alone, that she could finally raise her head and actually see a horizon approaching, bringing her a fresh start. A life in the human realm where she could pretend, for a brief few hours a day when she went shopping or for coffee or for a simple walk, that she was your typical twenty-three year old woman.

She wouldn't label this everyday "normal" because it was such a fluty word. What was normal to her was a world where the creatures of the underworld figuring in comics and horror movies and series on TV were as much part of reality as birthday parties and being stuck in traffic and sleeping late Sunday morning.

However, the fact that she no longer had to deal with the demon part of society as a duty made her life that much easier. She still went fist-to- face if she needed to. Sometimes a late-night patrol worked as pure therapy for her strained nerves and it was good to blow off some steam. Just because she didn't HAVE to stand as the single slayer of the world anymore didn't mean that the slayer side of her had gone dormant. It was still very much alive within her and she treasured it more now, because it had made her journeys simpler. She never had to fret over her own safety; she could go wherever she felt like going.

It was in large part that side of her that one day had given her the tingle back, though. That undeniable sense of him. There was an enormous difference to it though, one that she couldn't quite put her finger on, and one that she hadn't tried to make out properly since she had discarded the feeling after that first day.

The hope that lived in her heart was too hurtful already. To kindle it would be burning a whole straight through her chest and she couldn't permit herself to for even a second consider what it could mean.

Being in England at the moment that the feeling of him hit her with full force hadn't helped the matter as she began to see the shadow of her bleached blonde on every street corner. She saw his reflection in the mirror as she brushed her hair, which seemed utterly ridiculous as he had never had a reflection for as long as she had known him. She felt his body next to her as she was about to fall asleep, his arms around her, his nose nestling against the nape of her neck. And the missing of him grew into a longing she could not bare.

She had to leave. She had to occupy her thoughts with something other than him. And so she went out to discover what she had thought for so long she would never get to experience. A planet that held wonders so beautiful she hadn't even grasped their concepts before actually being able to see them with her own two eyes.

Two months ago she had begun to dream a dream so haunting that it eventually drove her back to England. She had been back two weeks and in that time she had discussed the contents of the dream with Giles, who was rather puzzled as to its meaning as well.

She had dreamt it again the night prior, but this time there had been a new attribute to its already elusive contents. She had never seen the "A" smudged or the ring around it turned black before. And Spike... He had never spoken before.

Now she put the tray she had been carrying down on the glass table by which Giles sat. The terrace was bathed in soft light, sifting through the leaves of three tall oaks standing on guard out in the yard. The shade was nice as it was an unusually hot day and Buffy poured herself some of the lemonade contained on the tray before taking a seat opposite her Watcher.

"Everything okay?" he asked after a short while of silence and she smiled again, nodding.

"Now that Dawn's finally here," she said and he smiled back before closing the book he had been reading and taking to eyeing her for a few moments, then he said:

"I appreciate that you want to be strong for everybody. I have always admired that quality in you, and you know that. But perhaps the time has come, now that you're back, to speak of what is on your mind."

"What do you mean?" she asked, her smile growing slightly stale as she took a sip of the sweet liquid and Giles hesitated, then answered:

"I can tell you're still grieving, and you are in full right. But perhaps by talking about him... it might ease..."

"Stop," she cut him off, clenching her jaws together and the smile being nowhere to be seen as she stood. "Please. Just stop."

She put her glass down on the table before she turned and walked back inside.

"Buffy," Willow said, making the other turn back around just a few steps through the door and Buffy shook her head.

"I don't think there's anything to say," she said at the rather pleading look on her friend's face. "He died. Everybody does."

"And I think there's a lot more to say than that," Willow stated. "You can't just shrug your shoulders and act like you're okay. Giles is right, you need to talk about this. If you don't process your loss, then..."

"Like you did with Tara?" Buffy bit off, looking regretful at once and reaching out a hand to take the other's in a tight grip. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it to sound so harsh."

"I know," Willow assured, still looking rather pale.

"I don't need advice on how to deal with death," Buffy said. "I've had my share."

"I know that too, but..."

"Please," Buffy shook her head. "Please, let it go. I can't..." Her voice broke and she released Willow's hand before she turned and hurried out of the room.

Fighting the tears she quickly ascended the stairs and went straight to her room, opening the door and walking through it before she slammed it shut and began to pace. Clutching and un-clutching her hands, gritting her teeth and still having her eyes fill with tears.

There was a gentle knock on the door and she turned to the doorway since the door was still standing open wide. Dawn looked at her empathically and Buffy smiled tryingly, though her lips were trembling from the effort of holding back the sobs and her throat was beginning to ache.

"A letter just came for you," Dawn said, entering the room and Buffy raised her eyebrows as she swallowed hard and the tears were forgotten for the envelope her sister reached out to her.

Buffy was grateful to the younger in that moment, not only for the distraction - but for knowing when to push and when to simply stay quiet.

The Slayer took the letter and looked at the sprawled letters forming her name and current address at the front of the envelope.

"Angel," she said before turning it over and quickly opening it.

Bringing three folded sheets out of it she unfolded them and walked over to the picture window to sit in the armchair standing there. Dawn waited for a few seconds before coming to the decision to leave the older alone, walking back downstairs.

Buffy began to read and the further she got the more disconcerted she was.

Dawn and Willow looked up from the cards they were playing when the Slayer half an hour later walked into the living room. She stopped before them with a look on her face they hadn't seen in a very long time - clear determination.

"I have to go to Los Angeles," she stated.

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She dropped the duffle bag at her feet and then slowly turned her head to have a look around the large foyer of the Hyperion Hotel. It was warm and welcoming. She had only been there twice before - once a few of years back, and a second time right before she left America for England - and at both those times she could conclude why Angel would have chosen it. At the thought of seeing him she felt a flutter somewhere near her heart and a small smile graced her lips. It had been so long.

"Buffy?" a female voice asked as the woman it belonged to descended a set of stairs to the Slayer's right and Buffy turned her head to her with a questioning expression.

The young lady had a remarkable face, filled with a beauty which seemed quiet and natural in spite of how evident it was. Framed by a silky mane of chestnut locks her face was the picture of innocence. Her movements were filled with grace as she took the last step and came to face Buffy. The latter had never seen her before, but she knew instantly who it had to be. Angel was good at writing letters that way - he never left out any good parts, but chose those parts with skill; knowing what would interest her, and what would not.

"You must be Susannah," she said, wondering why the other was eyeing her with something close to irritation right before the look vanished and a perfect smile took its place.

"I think we already established I know who you are," she then said jokingly, reaching out a hand and Buffy returned the smile, about to shake the hand when a voice she actually did recognize exclaimed:

"Buffy?!" and she turned her head to the bottom of the stairs, having her smile widen slightly before she said:

"Hey, Cordy."

The brunette climbed the stairs and embraced her old friend. Buffy hugged her back.

"I can't believe it!" Cordelia stated as they pulled apart. "Literally! What are you doing here?"

"Well, I received this," Buffy replied, pulling out a manila envelope from a pocket in the duffle bag and straightening her back, holding the confinement of Angel's letter as well as the lengthy yet rather hurried description he had sent her of what they had all been dealing with for the past few months.

Cordelia nodded.

"Of course... We just didn't expect you so soon," she tried to explain and Buffy smiled a little.

"Right, the manifest of impending doom with just enough lack of good detail to make me actually curious wouldn't be sufficient in making me jump on the first plane available," she stated sarcastically. "Please," she added and Cordelia had to smile as well.

Buffy noticed a very fine thread of tension hanging in the air and she wasn't sure from where it originated - Susannah, or Cordelia. She wasn't even clear on what to make of it, why it was there. What had she done apart from walking through the door! Gees, this was turning out to be the perfect beginning of a great stay.

The silence was growing stale and Cordelia seemed just about to part her lips and break it when the sound of a door opening somewhere behind her made her turn her head that way; Buffy moving her gaze to the spot as well just as a man walked into the large room to join the threesome. He smiled as he met Cordy's eyes with his own, but at the rather meaningful expression on her face he furrowed his brow slightly before he moved his gaze to the young blonde standing to the right of the brunette.

As both ladies were situated at the top of the stairs leading from the entrance of his work place and home - directly into both - he had to tilt his head slightly back.

His eyes grew. Then his smile broadened.

"Buffy," he said and she swallowed, then returned his smile as she nodded.

"Seems that's the way you guys wanna greet me," she murmured, feeling oddly out of place as she looked down at him. Then she added: "It sounds more or less like 'Slayer'... It's been a while since I heard that."

He looked apologetic.

"I didn't mean it to," he assured and she smiled again, this time with more feeling.

"'Course," she said, getting herself moving and slowly walking down the steps to face him on the floor of the foyer. "But I still believe this," she added, holding up the large envelope again before finishing: "was a call for HER to come."

"Yes," Angel admitted. "I need you to dress up as the Slayer just this one last time... I..."

"I know," she interrupted. "I read everything you sent me. I know. You don't have to explain. Where do we start?"

***

"So," Cordelia said as she showed Buffy up the stairs to find her a room to stay in, "I think you'll be comfortable here," she added, looking hesitantly at her former semi-friend as they stepped into the hallway of the second floor and started down it.

"I'm sure I will be," Buffy nodded.

"Angel's told me about... You know. How you've traveled and... everything," Cordelia stated, still rather tryingly before she stopped in front of a door and turned the knob, pushing it open.

"Yeah," Buffy nodded. "Soul searcher and globe trotter extraordinaire - that's me," she added with a small smile and Cordy returned it, walking into the room and having Buffy follow.

"So everybody's all right?" the dark haired asked, turning to the petite blonde as the latter put her duffle bag down on the bed and had a look around.

"Yeah," she then replied. "Everybody's just great."

"I heard what happened to Xander. His eye..." Cordelia said and Buffy smirked slightly as she turned her head to her. "I hope he's moved passed it," the former stated and Buffy smiled.

"He's doing good," she then replied.

"Is Dawn still studying?" Cordelia wondered and Buffy's smile grew as she nodded.

"Angel's really filled you in," she commented and Cordelia smiled back with a shrug.

"I can't say I wasn't a little bit curious," she admitted, then raised her eyebrows in wait for the answer to her previous question.

"I'd say Dawnie loves school almost as much as she's enjoying England... Which is good," Buffy answered.

"Why didn't you stay there?" Cordelia asked and Buffy had a shadow draw over her face before she looked away. "I mean - to be close to Willow and Dawn... and Giles," the former added.

Buffy crossed her arms over her chest and turned to walk up to the single window of the room.

"I needed to get out there, see all the places I've saved," she then answered.

Cordelia watched her in silence for a few moments before she said:

"You deserved to. See them, I mean."

Buffy turned her head to her and smiled rather gratefully.

"Thanks," she replied.

"Well, I'll leave you to it," Cordelia said, turning and walking back up to the door. Hesitating in the doorway she said: "It's good to see you."

Buffy smiled again, then nodded.

"And you," she agreed. "I'm glad you decided to wake up."

Cordelia's smile broadened just a tad at that and then she nodded.

"He told you about that, huh?" she asked.

"He told me about pretty much everything that's been going on around here," Buffy replied and Cordelia struggled to keep her smile bright as she nodded for a second time.

"I'll come up and get you when it's time to rally the troops, okay? Get some rest," she said.

"Thanks," Buffy said, watching the other leave the room and then turning to the bed.

It looked alluring enough, but on top of it was something else that beckoned her attention and she grumbled as she walked up and unzipped the duffle bag, starting to unload its contents.

***

Twenty minutes later there was a soft knock on the door and Buffy put the last of her sweaters on their shelf in the borrowed closet before she closed the door to it and invited whoever to come in. The door of the room slid open and Susannah poked her head inside.

"Hi," she said. "Sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt your..."

"Fascinating and fun-filled unpacking?" Buffy asked with a smirk. "Don't worry, I've seen all of it before, doesn't make for a very captivating pastime."

Susannah smiled at that, stepping into the room and sliding the door shut with a soft click before she had a look around.

"It's funny," she said. "When I first came here I thought every room looked the same. It was just another hotel... except it's more or less out of the 'Shining', the way it's in huge need of a good crew of handymen and all," she added and Buffy laughed, nodding her agreement. "Well," Susannah continued. "After a few days I started to notice little things and after a few weeks it grew into something more than a building. It's home... and the people in it are the closest friends I have..."

Buffy looked at her with an understanding façade, which completely hid the confusion she felt as to where the topic was headed.

"I didn't come here to mess with familiarity," she then stated as the other was growing hesitant in her speech. "I didn't come to stay, just to help. When I'm done, I'm leaving. And besides, what's to say I'm not a possible friend?"

Susannah stared at her, and then she smiled a very small smile before she nodded.

"Right. You're right! I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to sound so... I mean, I'm happy you're here. Angel speaks of you like you're the hero we need to make this equation work, and so does... Cordelia," she assured, pausing again and Buffy had another strange feeling of being watched in anticipation of some sort of reaction.

Or perhaps it wasn't anticipation, perhaps it was just regular wait. What did this girl expect from her? That she'd oh-and-ah over the fact that she was needed to save the world? That she'd actually be shocked that Angel and Cordy thought she was the woman for the job. Well, okay, the Cordy- believing-in-her-so-openly part should have come as a shock, but it didn't. It had been a long time since she thought she actually knew what made Cordelia work. Now, after everything both of them had been through Buffy was only sure of one thing - they had grown up a lot.

Susannah, though. There was a mystery.

The little Angel had told Buffy of her she had stumbled into the Hyperion one late night, covered in blood and murmuring something about a bottle having to be found.

Now, that was an entrance if Buffy had ever heard of one.

The blood had later been determined to belong to a Jade demon, which the mortal had killed with her own hands as the demon had attacked her. Buffy had been skeptical to this particular part of the story since it sounded absolutely absurd. The Jade had a ruthlessness to them that made them hard to destroy even with the strength of a Slayer, and the thought of a mere human performing this task seemed utterly incredible.

Angel had, however, vouched for the truth of it as there had been witnesses so shaken up by the event that they had barely wanted to spill any information at all. It had finally been confirmed, though - Susannah had used nothing but her own hands and feet, a steel wire and the pure adrenaline that had to have been pumping through her veins in that moment, and she had come out standing.

Bruised, yes, but barely scratched otherwise.

She had no family, orphaned since the age ten, and when Angel offered her a permanent place of stay and - should she choose it - employment she had pounced on the offer immediately. She had lived at the hotel for nearly six months and, as far as Buffy knew, she had no plans of leaving.

Buffy still couldn't tell what she thought of the other woman. She wanted to like her, but for some reason... It was as though there was a slight air of hostility coming off the other which the Slayer couldn't place. A part of the tension earlier had most definitely been provided by this girl. The question was: why?

"I'd never do anything to hurt anyone under this roof," Buffy stated as she came out of her musings and Susannah smiled dismissively.

"I didn't think that," she stated.

"Yeah, you did," Buffy disagreed and the other's gaze wavered before it met hers firmly. "I don't blame you," Buffy continued. "I've had a bumpy past with some of the people here, and I'm the first to admit it." Susannah's eyes grew unnoticeably, then she seemed to relax again, listening to the Slayer finishing with: "I just want you to know that no matter what, they're my friends first as well."

"I know," Susannah said, giving Buffy another smile and walking up to the door, opening it she stopped herself on her way out and looked back at the other. "The reason I'm a bit on the edge these days is just that I've heard so many stories from the others... about what's gone down whenever there's been trouble brewing. I just don't want anyone to have to be sacrificed this time."

Buffy stared at the door as Susannah disappeared through it and then closed it with another careful click. The sound of that click seemed to echo through the room for an eternity and finally Buffy closed her eyes.

The numbing ache within her, caused by the memories Susannah's words had stirred, was making it difficult to breathe.

In one week, Buffy thought.

In one week it would be one year since everything changed; since everything was given to her and yet everything was taken away.

In one week it would be one year since she watched the sun rise over the heap of rubble which was all that was left of her home town.

In one week it would be one year since she had to make yet another sacrifice in the name of the world.

No, she corrected herself, sinking down on the edge of the bed. I didn't really make that sacrifice, did I?

But the loss had been hers to reap. And sometimes it felt as though it had been hers alone. Sometimes she wished she had stayed, just refused to leave and stayed with him...

Sometimes.

***

Angel looked up when Cordelia rejoined him downstairs in his office. She seemed weary of something and he raised his eyebrows slightly, in question. She sighed, stopping before him and then shaking her head.

"I can't believe that in all this time he didn't let you tell her," she said and he straightened his back.

"Look, I couldn't tell him what to do, okay? He didn't want me to, I had to respect that," he replied.

"But now... she's gonna have the shock of her life," Cordelia pointed out and Angel looked away from her before he came around his desk and leaned against it.

"So is he," he stated and her eyes widened.

"You couldn't get a hold of him?" she asked and he shook his head.

"He's not answering his cell."

"It's that stupid library! Reception is at zero one step through the doors and... I'm going there," she interrupted herself, about to turn and make good on her statement when his hand grabbed her arm and gently stopped her.

"I know you care about him, Cor," he said. "But let him finish his research. We all need him to, and if he finds out that Buffy's here... You and I both know what sort of distraction it'll be for him to see her again."

"I just... don't think it's fair," she grumbled, looking up at him and he smiled a little, letting his hand loosen its grip and then slide down her arm carefully before he stepped away from her.

Cordelia drew a small breath as she observed his back when he began to look through some of the files he had been working on before she entered the room.

"Angel... You do realize what this means, don't you?" she asked carefully and his hands slowed their movements before he turned his head to her again.

"Yeah," he then answered.

"The prophecy..."

"Cordelia," he interrupted. "I said 'yeah'. Now, I'm not gonna let a book dictate the future for me, neither should you."

"But..." she tried, only he gave her a look which cut her off and she sighed.

"Prophecies tend to get screwed up, especially when you know about them. My God, haven't you learned anything over these years?" he wondered and getting the smile he had been looking for from her he smiled back, reassuringly. "Buffy's here," he said. "It'll be all right now."

"I still wanna go to the library," she muttered and his smile widened.

"They say there's a first time for everything," he then quipped and she gave him a dark look before she laughed.

He looked at her for a moment, his eyes sparkling good humor before he stripped it off and replaced it with a stern expression that she knew all too well.

"All right, fine," she sighed. "I hereby solemnly swear that I won't go to the place where the books live."

"These are the last few hours he has left to study those books in peace, Cor," Angel replied to her mock and she crossed her arms over her chest, disliking but defeated. "And it's safe to say it's also the last few hours of peace WE have left," he added and she smirked at that.

"Coward," she taunted and he smiled back, not responding to the slander as he merely turned his eyes on the papers again.

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What Is To Be

-Third-

By Annie

2003-09-10

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"'As the year closes there will be a tremor felt in the earth and it will cause the clock to turn and four times four will open the eyes of that which is blind. And as it once again sees, all those in its sight shall be doomed forever to walk in its shadow and it shall reign in an era of terror and death. And the heavens will cry tears of blood and they shall rain down upon he who is damned and he shall drink them and they shall cleanse him for his final task. And only one other...'" Wesley stopped his reciting from the parchment in his hand, putting it down on the table and Buffy raised her eyebrows.

"'And only one other' what?" she asked.

"That's the thing," Angel replied in the other man's stead. "The prophecy was allegedly torn in two pieces about three-hundred years ago. One piece being sent to France - that's the piece we have here; and the other being traded to China - that being the piece no one knows where it is," he added with a sigh.

"And you have no idea what this thing is, that's supposed to be waking up?" she asked and he shook his head. "Okay... Well, then where did it come from? It had to be born from somewhere, right? If we can find the place of its origin, maybe we can find a way of stopping it."

"The prophecy was made by a man known in the demon world as Alliande, it was written down over three-THOUSAND years ago... In English the word 'Alliande' stands for Teller or Foreseer," Wesley stated. "He is estimated to have documented over one hundred prophecies during his life, which wasn't a very long one. In human history he's regretfully unheard of. We have found no traces of him anywhere."

"And since the demonic world is situated in estrangement with the mortal world there is no telling of where Alliande was when he foretold this, or where this blind monster is originating from," Fred cut in with a rather shy smile, though Buffy couldn't return it.

These news were even worse than she had been expecting. They had reached a dead end without even beginning.

"Okay, so in other words you don't know where it's supposed to take place, you don't know what Big Bad you're dealing with, you don't know who the text is referring to as 'the damned'..."

"Well," Wesley cut in and she paused, waiting for him to elaborate; which he did, all be it hesitantly. "Given the contents of the text and that the parchment was at a very special place at Wolfram and Hart, as well as what you have told us of your dreams... It seems quite obvious that..."

He trailed off and she began to feel a stir of discomfort at the nape of her neck right before Angel spoke up and confirmed her suspicion by saying:

"It's clear that the prophecy refers to me. We found it among my files at Wolfram and Hart and I know that their analysts must've spent many good hours on it before they had it categorized."

"You're not a 'category'," Buffy snapped and he blinked before his gaze softened.

"All we know about what's up ahead is that we're supposed to be there for it, otherwise we wouldn't have been offered the prophecy in the first place," he said and she shook her head a little, glaring at her hands, which were holding each other in a tight grip on the table.

"Couldn't they just make them illegal?" she muttered. "The knowing-too-much- of-the-future deal in this whole lifestyle we're living is just a major stress factor, you know?"

She looked up and met his eyes with her own, and he smiled.

"Yeah, I know," he then assured.

"It's not the future yet," Cordelia cut in. "And we won't let it be. We're still searching the books on any sort of animal or demon fitting the description. We might still find something, there are a lotta books out there."

"Don't get me wrong," Buffy said as she stood. "I respect a good book as much as the next person. But not all answers can be found in them."

"Oh, we've combed the streets for information, too," Gunn stated. "And with a fine-toothed comb, at that; but none of our sources has given us anything worth knowing and after a few weeks of a whole lotta nothing we called it quits. Headed back to the library."

"Perfect," Buffy grumbled, side-stepping her chair adding: "The research department was always my strong suit."

Angel smiled at that, as did Cordelia, and Buffy returned their smiles wearily. She was tired. She had gotten nearly an hour's worth of sleep before, but it hadn't been enough. Jet-lag was taking it out on her big time and she felt exhausted. Looking at her wrist-watch she determined it was close to two o'clock in the morning back in good old England.

"I know it's still early," she said, suppressing a yawn at the thought of her bed just up the stairs. "But I could definitely use a couple of hours more sleep in me if we're gonna go through all this 'til it makes sense. I hope you don't mind...?"

"'Course not," Cordelia assured. "We'll order pizza in an hour-and-a-half or so and then I'll come up and wake you when it's delivered."

"Okay," Buffy nodded, having a look around at the assembled group in the room and smiling as she added: "It's good to finally meet all of you. Too bad it's under these circumstances."

Susannah held her gaze for a moment and was about to say something when Buffy saw Cordelia place a hand on the other's arm, obviously stopping her and Buffy furrowed her brow as she turned around and left the room.

Something was going on! It was driving her crazy not knowing why everybody was looking at each other so meaningfully at times, and why there seemed to be words unsaid that refused to be spoken. Or wouldn't be permitted to be spoken, more like it.

Getting upstairs and climbing into bed she pushed any further thought out of her head and sunk down against the soft pillow, easing her way into sleep and her last few hours of what even resembled peace.

***

Almost three hours later Buffy rose from her chair at the table in the small room where they earlier had held their conference. Now that table was littered with pizza boxes, half-eaten pizza slices on plates and crumpled up paper-towels. The people around it all looked rather drowsy and were having quiet conversations in two's or three's.

Buffy left the room, walking through the foyer and not stopping until she reached the open door of Angel's office. She stepped through it and smiled as he looked up from the paper work he was doing.

"A lot of that, huh?" she asked with a nod to the desk and he smirked.

"Running a business, you know," he shrugged and she chuckled, crossing her arms over her chest as she entered the room.

"Angel Investigations," she then said, as though tasting the two words. "I like the ring of it," she admitted and he smiled at that.

"So do I," he nodded, getting to his feet and abandoning his project for coming around the desk and facing her. "Buffy... there's something I should tell you. I'm just not sure...how..."

She looked quizzical and he braced himself, about to continue when the sound of the front door being thrown open and then steps down the stairs stopped him. What made Buffy's eyes fill with wonderment and slowly building shock was neither of these sounds, but that of a voice

to her swallowed by fire

that yelled:

"Angel!"

Her eyes were growing painfully wide as she stared at the namesake. He looked apologetic and hesitant.

She didn't believe it.

It was impossible.

"I didn't find anything in that book of Venus that you suggested," the voice now said and she could hear his feet approaching, halting as hands ruffled through loose paper before the feet continued on their path and then the voice again: "But I DID find a diary that has belonged to Aphrodite and I'm telling you, that girl had some really twisted..." Buffy turned her head to the voice as the owner came to stopping short in the doorway. "...fantasies," he then filled in; staring at the last person he ever would have expected to see.

She stared back. Stared at his face, at the form of him that was beginning to blur and yet kept its persistency in being there with all its familiarity, stared at his mouth, his left eyebrow - which was missing its trademark scar... stared into his eyes.

It was a wave of pain and memories and happiness and memories and weakness and memories and memories and memories that came crashing over her as she took in the blue jeans he was in, the blue sweater... the casual manner of how he was there, when he shouldn't be. He couldn't be. How could he be there?

The image of him burning stung her eyes and she closed them, shaking her head slowly and taking a steadying breath. This wasn't real. She was hallucinating again.

Stop, Buffy... Stop, she told herself, knowing that the hurt from having to make him disappear again would as always be great; but that it in the end was better than having him and yet never not.

Only, when she opened her eyes again he was still there, taking her in with seemingly as much shock as she was him.

And then a new emotion began to fill her with gray and hard stone that weighed out everything else and she turned a hardened gaze at Angel as she asked:

"What is this - some kind of a sick joke?"

He shook his head with a deeply regretful look on his face which did absolutely nothing to ease the heaviness of the lump inside of her. She would have hit him, if she had felt she had the energy for such an outburst; but her rage was simmering, laced with confusion, and simply not yet reaching the boiling point which would make it impossible to contain.

"Buffy..."

Oh, God... was all she could think as she turned her head sharply to look back at the other man, who had just said her name.

His voice... His voice saying her name like that... It was too much, she couldn't breathe. She couldn't stand up. She couldn't be in there, in that room, cornered by a vampire and a ghost. Her head was spinning and she felt as though she had just been slapped in the face by that simple word. One that should be the most well-known word in all the world to her.

Perhaps that was the problem. She had heard that voice whisper that word so many times in her dreams that...

Oh, God.

She put her hands up as some sort of shield, as some sort of sign for both of them to not say anything, to not do anything to try and prevent her as she took the steps up to the door and without looking at the one blocking her way she slipped out to his left and then proceeded across the foyer and up the stairs.

"That went well," Angel sighed and Spike stared at him with such a lack of words that he felt as though he had lost his tongue in the literal sense.

And then they hit him.

"What the bleeding hell?!" he exclaimed and Angel looked up, his exterior calm as he faced the anticipated storm. "What is she doing here?" Spike added.

"I sent for her," Angel replied simply.

"You 'sent' for her?" Spike asked, disbelieving.

"I sent her a letter," Angel stated and Spike's eyebrows rose.

"A letter?"

"Yes, you remember those - the tool of communication so popular back in the day," Angel answered dryly.

"You can mock me all you bloody want..." Spike began, Angel cutting him off with a brief smile which made the already burning insides of the other grow one degree hotter.

"It's funny," the dark-haired said, "how you slip so easily into that old accent whenever you get angry."

"Well, how many MORTALS don't bloody curse when they're pissed off?" Spike shot, aggravated.

"Fine," Angel nodded. "You deal with it anyway you wish."

"'DEAL with IT anyway I WISH'?!" Spike mimicked, staring at the other.

"Yes, she's here to help."

"To 'help'."

"You know, this whole showing how shocked you are by repeating everything I say is all good - but we don't seem to be getting anywhere," Angel remarked.

"I'll show you 'getting somewhere'!" Spike growled, stalking up to the other and doing what Buffy had not as he hit him hard over the chin.

As Angel turned his head back to the bleached blonde the latter grabbed the hand which had just performed the task with a slight grimace of pain on his face and the vampire smiled again.

"William, William," he then said in a rather patient tone, adding: "Still finding it so hard to remember you're human?"

Spike met his eyes with one growing venomous before he got out between clenched jaws:

"She shouldn't 've found out like that. You should've bloody told me she was coming!"

"I didn't know 'til she arrived," Angel defended. "I'm sorry," he added. "Truly. I didn't want her to find out like that either... but I knew she wouldn't believe me if I just told her."

"Had to be the regular gentleman then, eh, Angie?" Spike asked with a huff. "Had to wait 'til the right moment? Bloody lotta good it did you. Or her."

He turned, shaking his head and then left the room the same way his Slayer had just a few minutes earlier. As he crossed the foyer he avoided the stairs and headed for the large glass doors leading out into the small yard and un-kept garden. All he could think was: she was there.

She was there.

He could hardly believe it was true, that she was just a staircase and a closed door away from him. It felt surreal, his mind couldn't process it. It felt like forever since he had seen her last... But it really wasn't. It was just a few piled up moments of tension ago. When she stared at him in a way he had trouble processing... He didn't know what he had seen in her eyes.

But somehow it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered now but the need to tell her everything...

And... she was there.

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