What Is To Be

-Eighteenth-

By Annie

2003-10-15

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ ¤¤¤¤¤¤

Buffy sat on the side of the bed, buttoning up her shirt as she rested her eyes on his half-clad form. He was still dressing, seemingly unaware of being watched, and she somehow found that immensely sexy. She bit her lower lip as she finished the last of her buttons, fighting the urge to rip the shirt open again and jump his bones. Smiling a little to herself she got to her feet and walked up to him.

He just pulled a white T over his head and when her hands slid over his shoulders as he pulled it down he turned around to face her. She stepped into him, tilting her head back as he slipped his arms around her and bent forward to join their lips.

"Mmhh," she sighed once they broke it. "I don't know what I like best: you without your clothes, in all that... amazing splendor..." He smiled and she did as well before she slowly added: "Or you WITH clothes, leaving the splendor to be hinted and imagined and..."

She trailed off and he drew a small breath as he looked into her eyes, her yearnings much too clear as they swiveled in the green.

"Thought we agreed it was time to reluctantly join the rest of the world..." he mumbled and she smiled a little again.

"Yeah?" she then said slowly, wanting him to elaborate.

"So, do you know what hearing you say that does to me?" he grumbled and she smirked.

"I have a pretty good idea," she teased, her growing anticipation for him to act on it becoming clear and he leaned forward again, brushing his lips against hers and she couldn't control a small moan as his hands slid up under her shirt to caress the arch of her back.

There was a hard knock on the door and she sighed.

"We'll be right down!" she called.

"Just wanted to know if you guys are hungry," Wes replied and the Slayer and her mortal shared a glance before they both smiled.

"Starving," they replied with one voice.

"Okay, we're ordering from a China restaurant down the block... anything special you'd like?" Wes now asked and the two blondes interrupted the deep kiss they had once more engaged themselves in.

"No," Spike answered. "Nothing."

"Except maybe dumplings!" Buffy added. "And some of those shrimp thingy- s... And a large order of bamboo and rice."

"And 'starving' it obviously is," Wesley muttered as he turned and walked down the hallway.

Spike smiled and Buffy returned it before giving him a quick kiss on the mouth, and then stepping out of his embrace. He seemed in lack of enthusiasm over this move, but she gave him another bright smile and he literally looked as though he was melting. She had a swirl of warmth within her at the expression in his eyes and then she was in his arms again, holding him in a hard hug and he held her back.

"What's this for?" he asked quietly and she kissed the side of his throat before she answered:

"For loving me."

He closed his eyes at that, for the thousandth time questioning the reality of these moments creating themselves and centering around her.

Buffy had meant what she said earlier - she could have stayed in that room forever and ever. She knew with certainty that she could live at a beach collecting seashells for the rest of her life, as long as he was there with her.

"We need to get downstairs," she grumbled and he nodded, still savoring her scent as she pulled away for the second time.

She smiled once more, running her hands down his chest before she turned away from him and walked up to the bed, beginning to straighten out the sheets. She walked around the bed, tucking them under the mattress when her fingers hit something which had slipped in between the foot of the bed and that end of the mattress. She furrowed her brow, glancing up at Spike who had pulled on a white shirt and was buttoning it the way she had hers just a few minutes ago. She reached down further, grasped the edge of the thing and brought it up. Resting her gaze at the back of a frame she stared at it for a moment before she then blinked and turned it over. Her heart skipped a beat and then a wide smile spread over her lips as she looked up and once again rested her eyes on Spike.

He just finished the last button and turned his head to her, meeting her gaze with his own and growing quizzical at the incredibly adoring expression in them. Then he noticed what she was clutching and a sheepish look crossed his face as he grew self-conscious.

"Why was this wedged in there?" Buffy asked with a gesture to the place she had found it.

"Well..."

"You didn't want me to see it?" she asked, merely seeming curious and he felt how he was blushing for maybe the third time in his life.

A smile was still playing on her lips and she raised her eyebrows in wait for his answer.

"I keep it on top of that, most of the time," it finally came as he pointed to the bedside table. "But then, when you came here, I moved it to the drawer. I... I guess I didn't want you to get the willies or anything... I took it out last night after you left just to look at you. Eh, it. And then..."

He trailed off and her smile broadened as she approached him.

"You know, last night I wigged out 'cause you DIDN'T have one of me," she confided and he smirked a little. "But this..." she then said, looking at the drawing of herself again. "This is absolutely beautiful. Thank you," she mumbled, stepping into him and snuggling closer and he smiled a little as well, stroking one hand through her locks.

"You that surprised I actually had one of you?" he asked and she laughed softly, moving her head back to look up at him as she shook it slowly.

"Just happy," she admonished gently.

He kissed her on the forehead and then sighed.

"We should head down," he said and she nodded, still holding onto the frame and he cocked an eyebrow. "You wanna take that with you?" he asked and she smiled.

"Would you mind?" she asked and at that he smirked, hearing the tease in her voice.

She turned and walked around the bed, placing the frame carefully on the place he had said was where it normally resided, making sure it stood straight before she joined him in the doorway.

***

"What DO we know?" Cordelia asked, an hour later, all of the gang - with the exception of Susannah - were gathered at the research table, the conference room filled with a sticky warmth from the body heat not circling. "What's the plan?" she added, her eyes going to Buffy.

"The plan is that Angel, Sp-... I mean, William and I are going to see Forte tomorrow, and try to get some answers out of him," she replied. "I know it's probably risky, and I know it's not the best chance we have, but as of now it's our only one. And regarding the whole what-we-actually- know... The Big Bad is some ancient demon thing-y which supposedly desires a 'second' apocalypse in four days."

"Right," Cordelia gave a nod. "I knew that."

"Unfortunately it's not much to know, is it?" Buffy commented and Cordelia gave a small smile in recognition before turning her head to Angel as he spoke up.

"We have some hope put across seas. Has Giles called back yet?"

Buffy shook her head.

"I'm not expecting him to 'til later tonight. He said he'd call whether he had useful information or not. I think it'll be around eight," she stated.

"Okay, good. And it's not true that we have no more to go on, we have the prophecy," Angel remarked and Buffy raised her eyebrows.

"Yeah, all half of it," she then murmured. "Sorry," she added, "but it's true. We have no idea what all the parts even mean until they hit us head on. Literally. What's supposed to happen today, for example?" she asked and Angel, about to place an objection when he seemed to have to admit the truth of what she was saying, stopped himself from speaking.

"'And there shall be fire and water dancing as one on the fourth day's mid hour'," Spike instead was the one who answered her question and she turned her head to him where he sat next to her.

"Okay, and this non-cryptic message of course means...?" she asked, having the silence be the only thing that met her and she held her hands out in a meaningful gesture as she added: "See?"

The quiet persisted as they all grew thoughtful, and then Cordelia turned to Gunn and Fred, asking:

"How's Susie doing?"

"No change," Gunn said. "She's been sleeping..."

"Restlessly," Fred chimed in.

"...for the past few hours," Gunn finished. "It doesn't bode very well, does it?"

"No," Wesley sighed, "it doesn't. I've been trying to find something out about this bottle mystery, now that it seems it is actually of some importance. The facts on bottles figuring in both myth as well as history is too extensive a research area; it is difficult to find the right place to search. I have been targeting those with ties to Egypt, and still the list goes on and on... Perhaps some of you wouldn't mind helping me with this later this afternoon?"

"Of course not," Cordelia said with an encouraging smile. "We're all up for putting in the man hours."

"Or wo-man," Buffy nodded, the mood lightening up slightly with that as there were more smiles among the assembled.

"Man OR woman is naturally as welcome," Wesley replied and Buffy smiled as well.

***

"Okay," Cordelia said, four hours later, holding up her hands as she had closed her eyes and making every last tired head raise to turn to her.

She opened her eyes, then closed them again demonstratively before she said:

"When I blink I actually see heaps and heaps of these distasteful little things!"

Angel smirked, leaning back on his chair as he observed her. The others seemed to take the interruption in their research as a good enough excuse for an actual break and Fred and Gunn rose as one, saying they would go upstairs and check on Susannah. Buffy splayed her upper body over the book she had been ogling in well-hidden blindness - as all the letters were beginning to melt together and all the pictures were one blob of black. Spike slipped one hand over her back and she groaned approvingly.

"Come here," he said, making her sit up and turn her back to him before he started gently massaging her strained shoulders.

She closed her eyes in pure delight as his used fingers worked her muscles.

"Oh... God," she moaned when he hit a soar spot and Wesley rose with a clearing of his throat, casually leaving the room as well which had Cordelia finally keep her eyes open long enough to exchange a humorous look with Angel.

He raised his eyebrows and nodded to the doorway in a silent question, which she answered with a smile and a getting-to-her-feet. He mirrored her movement and then followed her out of the room and into the foyer where she turned to him with her smile broadening before it died and he looked at her questioningly.

"I see them," she said and he frowned, not following. "Those icky little things with their caps or corks or no tops at all and their funny-shapes or tear shapes or square or triangle or..."

"Hungry?" he cut her off and she focused her gaze in his again before she smiled another one of those incredible smiles of hers.

"I could eat," she answered and he offered her an arm, which had her looking at him for an extra long second before she slid her hand into the cranny of it. "Are you offering to dim my hunger, kind sir?" she then asked and for another moment he stared at her, lost in the various scenarios he could attach to that simple sentence, and then he smirked.

"I'll wine and dine thee, milady, until thou knowest not to whom thine pleasure is owned," he offered, his voice melodic and she felt a small tingle at the top of her spine as she listened to it.

"I bet you said that to all the ladies," she then countered with a raise of her eyebrows before she slipped her hand away from his arm and walked ahead of him into the kitchen. "All of those you found you had a... sweet tooth for, anyway," she added as she walked up to the refrigerator. Angel had followed her, and now he stopped a few feet behind her as she cut off his forthcoming reply with: "Or maybe only those who you wanted in your bed?"

At this he suddenly smiled.

"You so sure I want you in my bed?" he asked and knew that he had her in quite the tight corner.

Cordelia felt her heart nearly stop. Her back was to him and thankful for the fact that he wouldn't be able to read her reaction immediately on her features she swallowed and quickly collected herself as she said:

"I was speaking hypothetically. And it was more an inquiry than a question."

"So, you're asking me... what?" Angel retorted and she grabbed a carton of milk before turning around to face him.

"Well..." she said, realizing that she had merely secured her place in the corner by giving that explanation. Looking feverishly for some way out of this predicament she finally added: "If it helped... talking to them when you were trying to... to seduce them?"

He took a step closer and she nearly leaned into the still open fridge, then he wondered:

"So to you I was just now trying to seduce you?"

There was nothing she could do to stop this, she knew it, and with the knowledge came the only way out. Escape through denial and then further with changing of the subject. So, she merely glared at him before she took a step closer as well, standing right before him as she reached one arm out and pushed the door to the fridge shut.

"Milk?" she asked.

Now he smiled crookedly, watching her much too closely and she rolled her eyes at him before turning from him in favor of the counter. Putting the carton down she reached up and opened one of the cabinets, bringing two tall glasses out and feeling how she breathed a small sigh of relief when he moved away from her nearest vicinity, crossing the room.

She was out of the corner.

Then she suddenly thought of something... What if he had been trying to tell her something? What if he had WANTED her to think that he had been trying to seduce her? Had he been? Why? Why would he? It wasn't like they were flirting all the time. Okay, so they were friendly. That was true. Sure. But... HE didn't feel anything else, did he? Anything more. Buffy had joked last night, had said that it was obvious how they looked at each other. She had seemed serious enough, but Cordelia still doubted that she was right. So much time had elapsed since she and Angel had... Well, almost had...

"How can I bring you back down?" his voice interrupted her thoughts and she jerked before she turned to face him.

"Huh?" she asked.

"You seemed like you were floating a long way up," he elaborated and she smiled dismissively.

"Just checking on those stars up there," she said with a shrug. "They seem to still be aligning prettily enough. 'The god of fire'... What do you suppose that means? Akhenaton? So, they're supposed to align with him? Right?" she asked, taking the glasses of milk and handing one to him.

He took it with a slightly wondering look and she stopped her questions as she looked quizzical as well.

"Why are we drinking this?" he asked.

"'Cause even though you promised to 'wine and dine' me I think we should stay off the alcohol wagon," she replied firmly. "With Susannah acting the way she is and the hours of page-turning we still have up ahead of us I think it might be the most mature conclusion."

He smiled again, this time it was gentler and she returned it tentatively.

"Now," she then said, "to the 'dining'?"

He laughed, nodding as he took a sip of his milk before putting it aside and walking up to the fridge.

"Let's see what we can find fit for a lady," he murmured and she gave him a playful slap on the back. "What?" he demanded, turning partially back to her. "You sure are one heck of a topic changer."

She giggled, taking a mouthful of milk and making a slight face before she put it on the counter, thinking how nice it would have been with perhaps a bottle of bubbly champagne... Pushing the thought away she replied mock- coyly:

"One of my many attributes."

He smirked, looking back at the contents of what was hopefully a good dinner and trying to pick the ingredients he might need.

"You know," he said. "I never was much for the... food aspect of things. I'm not so sure I'm the right man for this."

Cordelia smiled widely, coming up to stand next to him and gazing at the interior of the fridge as well.

"If you give it your best effort," she said, "I promise I'll make a really good show of loving it."

He looked at her, then pushed her gently with one shoulder and she swayed slightly to the side before she pushed him back.

"Deal," he agreed.

***

"What time is it?" Angel asked and Cordelia glanced at the clock on the wall.

"Almost ten past seven," she answered him and he frowned deeply, looking into the frying pan.

"I've been doing this for twenty minutes," he said. "It's not supposed to look so... raw, is it?"

She leaned forward, then suppressed her smile to a twitching of the sides of her mouth as she shook her head in concurrence.

"Did you do the thing with the thing?" she asked and he looked lost. "The turning of the knob?" she translated and he checked, just to be sure, before he nodded.

She looked at it, then looked closer before she blinked and straightened her back. Crossing her arms over her chest she said:

"You turned the wrong knob."

"The wrong knob?" he repeated, an actual question mark seemingly painting itself across his features and she felt a small wash of sympathy pour through her at the sight of it.

"Here," she said, stepping up to his side and taking a soft hold on his left wrist, guiding it toward the stove and holding it over one of the empty hot plates. "Hot," she added meaningfully and he turned his head to her as she looked up at him, making her grow aware of how very much pressed against his side she stood with the front of her body.

She looked into those eyes of his for an eternity. He moved his hand away from the plate, his fingers brushing against hers and she felt her mouth slowly grow dry.

Then the smell of something burning hit their nostrils.

"The bread," Cordelia stated simply and the next instant he had torn himself away from her as he rushed to open the oven.

Now she couldn't keep her giggles down as he brought out the burnt lump which would have been a probably tasteful piece of Paine Riche. Defeated he put it aside, tuning the knob of the stove to zero as well before he turned to her.

"The best laugh comes to those who laugh last," he stated meaningfully and her merriness was taken aback as she squinted. "I gave it my best effort," he pointed out, "now it's your turn to make a good show of 'loving' it."

"That?!" she exclaimed, pointing to the blackened imitation of a rock lying behind his back and he nodded seriously. "I'll smile at it, pet it, talk baby-talk to it. I'll carry it around for the rest of the evening in a blanket - but you can't make me eat it!"

He looked as though he was willing to test that theory and she seemed apt to voice another hard protest right before he broke into a smile.

"You didn't REALLY think I'd make you, did you?" he asked and she shrugged.

"One thing about you is nothing is ever for certain," she replied.

"Really?" he wondered and she nodded.

"Just when I think I've got most of what is you figured out... you surprise me," she stated and he eyed her for a few seconds before he reached out a hand to her.

"Dance?"

All though he had turned on the radio before, on one of the stations playing really old goodies, this move was unexpected. She looked at his hand as though it was something foreign and he wiggled his fingers.

"Come on, I won't twist your arm," he said and she cocked an eyebrow before she tentatively slipped one hand in his.

He led her out from behind the long table and to the more open floor of the room before he faced her and placed his left hand on her waist, pulling her carefully to him. They stood still for a moment, his gaze caught in hers, and then she smiled again, seemingly self-conscious. They slowly began to move to the music, her eyes leaving his as she looked away and struggled to keep her heart from pacing too hard in her chest.

He would feel it.

He would hear it.

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to give you a wonderful dinner," he murmured and she shook her head that it didn't matter.

"Points for effort, as said," she replied, voice low as well and she closed her eyes when his hand traveled from her waist to the small of her back.

For the extent of one song they moved like this, in stillness. At ease with each others company. Enjoying it. One of Cordelia's temples coming to rest against his jaw line. Neither one of them ready for the short few minutees to actually end.

But they did. And others picked up where they left off as Cordelia pulled back a little to look up at him. Their movements slowing and stopping as they observed each other. Finally Angel slowly leaned forward, Cordelia closing her eyes in quiet acceptance of the kiss she knew he was about to give, but then something ripped through her and she stiffened, opening her eyes again and she could see that he was staring at her.

"What's happening?" he asked as her right hand gripped his left tightly.

"I... don't know," she mumbled, then furrowed her brow as she could suddenly see her own breath drifting like smoke from her mouth.

The second after she began to shiver with a frost that seemed to spread from the center of her chest and through her veins. She could see his eyes widening and soon she came to understand why as his body suddenly burned against hers, even through her clothes, and with a cry of growing pain she pushed him away from her; making herself fall backward in the process and she hit the floor with a low thud.

"Angel?" she breathed when he tore at his shirt, tearing it open he then fought to get it off him and finally succeeded. "Angel!" she tried to yell, but her voice didn't carry and she clasped one hand by her throat as the shivers she was under began to take over completely.

He went down on his knees, beads of perspiration forming on his torso and he was fighting for air as his gaze met hers. He seemed to whisper her name before he fell to the side and she couldn't hold her head up any longer, the chills succeeding in overpowering her and she swam into an ocean of dark.

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

What Is To Be

-Nineteenth-

By Annie

2003-10-22

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ ¤¤¤¤¤¤

"...figure out what to do."

"...called Darren."

"Good. Guess we'll have to wait and..."

The voices were distant, as though they were echoes of a dream just about to be forgotten. Only the burning sensation right beneath his skin told him that this was no slumber he was waking from, and he remembered with pointed clarity what had happened to render him unconscious. He eased his eyes open with difficulty, his gaze landing on Buffy who stood to his left; her arms crossed over her chest and her face pale with worry. And then it went to Fred, who was fidgeting where she stood and seemed to be wearing her nerves on the outside of her body.

"I'm..." he tried to soothe them both, but his voice broke and he drew a raspy breath.

Then he paused.

I don't need to breathe, he thought as Buffy and Fred turned to him with growing eyes.

He hesitated as he could still feel how his lungs were taking in air without his brain having anything to do with it. It seemed as though he had always done it, as though it was such a familiar thing that he didn't need to think that he should be doing it. But... he hadn't breathed for over two- and-a-half centuries. And so, in the next moment, he decided to stop. And he did. And nothing happened. He wasn't very surprised, he had, after all, not felt a pulse anywhere on him... Still.

"...you okay?!" Buffy finished and he squinted up at her, feeling bad that he seemed to have missed her whole tirade of fret and anxiety, and still slightly relieved over the fact.

His head was so heavy. He was so tired.

"Water..." he finally murmured as his mouth was incredibly dry.

Buffy nodded, but it was Fred who turned to the bedside table and grabbed the glass which stood there. She held it to his lips and though he slobbered some, most of it got into his mouth. It was heaven being able to fully move his tongue again, as it before had felt like a motionless stick of some kind. He gave the young woman a grateful look and then furrowed his brow.

"Cor...?" he asked and Buffy looked tentative as she unfolded her arms and avoided eye-contact for a short while, seemingly searching for the right words.

A wave of cold assumptions ran through him and he felt the overwhelming urge to get the hell off the bed to go search for her.

"She's pretty annoyed," Buffy then said and Angel frowned questioningly, having the gnawing in his chest be completely wiped out. "You'll see," Buffy then added, leaning forward and touching his forehead.

She pulled her hand away the next second, a small expression of surprised pain on her features and he furrowed his brow for a second time.

"He's burning up," she then said quietly to Fred, who got a look of sympathy mixed in with her apprehension.

"Darren should be here real soon," Fred assured and Buffy nodded before she gave Angel a smile and then left the room.

***

"I can't stand this! I'm a California girl, for God's sake! I'm not properly trained for this! I'm gonna go crazy!"

Cordelia threw the blankets off her shoulders as she paced the foyer, half an hour later. She had had five of the former wrapped around her, but since the chill she was under obviously was based within her they had done her no good. She hated the feeling of freezing: her teeth cluttering together, her whole body shaking, her lips blue and her skin white.

"And if you make an attempt at breathing even an insinuation that this is mere payback for the stone-cold ice-queen I dubbed myself in high school I swear to God!" she then added, her breath still visible at every word; the sentence spoken at the look of badly hidden amusement on Buffy's face.

"Not even thinking it!" the latter assured. "Well, of course, now that YOU mentioned it..." she added and Cordelia stopped her harsh steps for a moment in favor of giving the Slayer a dark glare.

"If looks could kill..." Spike murmured out of one corner of his mouth and Buffy smiled.

"I'm sorry, okay?" she then said and Cordelia replied by taking up her pacing again. "Darren'll analyze whatever it was he got from examining you and then we'll have a cure," Buffy added cheerfully.

"Yeah, right, 'cause Darren's a genius and he'll just have the answer straight away, I won't have to endure this for more than a couple of hours, I won't face the end of the world a giant frickin' popsicle!" Cordelia growled, though it seemed mostly to herself.

Buffy made a face of well-so-much-for-the-supportive-approach and Spike slid one hand in one of hers comfortingly. She smiled at the gesture, leaning closer to him before giving him a long kiss on the lips.

"None of us would let that happen," Wesley now ensured Cordelia in light of her previous statement and she was about to respond when a voice from the stairs did it for her with:

"Depends on which flavor you are."

Cordelia spun around, her face lighting up considerably at the site of the vampire and the thunder cloud she had persistently brought forth to hover above her dissolved the next moment.

Happy days are here again, Buffy thought as she rested her head on Spike's shoulder, then she smiled to herself.

"Angel," Cordelia said, meeting the other as he carefully took the steps of the stairs. "You okay?"

"As okay as the word goes," he muttered, then returned her smile. "How about you?"

"I'm... strawberry," she stated and he laughed.

"I'm tempted," he then said and she smiled a little before they remembered they weren't alone.

"So... what happened?" she asked and they both grew serious, as did the rest of the assembled as they waited for his reply.

"I'm not sure... it was like I could feel the demon, and it was clawing me from the inside, and it was screaming at me..." he mumbled, trailing off.

"What did it scream?" she wondered and he met her gaze again.

"I couldn't understand the words," he answered silently.

Cordelia observed the sweat still lingering as a coating all over his skin.

"You still warm?" she asked and he nodded a little.

"Can't seem to keep my mouth from growing dry as a desert either," he muttered. "I haven't swallowed this much water since I was sent to the bottom of the ocean," he added and she smiled a small smile at that, her eyes still concerned.

Then she shivered and put her arms around her.

"You still cold?" he inquired and it she gave him a meaningful look, having him smile a little as he remembered the comment with which he had entered the room.

Then he cautiously reached up one hand and touched her cheek. She clenched her jaws together, the hurt which spread through her skin were like fine threads of electricity. When he moved his palm to grace the spot she pushed his arm away and took a step back as she shook her head.

"I can't," she said, her eyes welling up with sudden tears as the pain he had instilled within her flesh grew, then it began to retract.

As it did, she blinked at the salty liquid and it slowly slipped down her left cheek, toward the spot he had just touched; only there was a small crackling noise as the water froze directly on her skin and her eyes widened.

"What's happening to me?" she asked.

None of them had an answer.

***

Buffy stood outside, in the middle of the garden, gazing up at the four aligning stars and feeling how time was beginning to slip away from them. Forte had to be a good lead, he had to have the bottle which they were looking for, it had to be of some use to them or...

"You worried about them?" Spike's voice asked behind her and she didn't bother turning around, knowing that his arms would soon slip around her.

She was right, the next moment they did, and she leaned her head back to rest it against him.

"Angel and Cordy?" she asked and she could feel how he nodded. "Yeah," she admitted. "But most of everything I'm scared this is just another one of those insolvable puzzles. We already have so many."

"Tomorrow we might get some answers," he offered and she smiled.

"Who died and made you the optimist?" she then asked and he laughed softly.

"My demon?" he suggested and she laughed as well, turning around in his arms before putting her own around his neck.

"William, darling," she said and he smiled as well.

"Yes, sweetheart?" he then wondered and she eyed him for a few seconds, then she pulled herself closer and kissed him deeply.

They gently ended it and both now wore smiles of contentment as they once again looked at each other.

"It'll be all right," he assured and she held his gaze for a long time, knowing that within them she could find a power source unlike any other from which she would always be able to draw strength.

"It doesn't matter," she mumbled, "as long as I'm beside you whatever happens."

His grip on her tightened.

"What happened to make you a pessimist?" he then demanded and she looked up at him, her smile dying and he knew the answer before she even gave it. "Listen to me," he murmured. "We'll survive this, all of us - and then we'll go back to England and you'll see your sis again, Red, even the bloody poof. Understand?"

The smile was reborn.

"You'd do that?" she asked. "You'd come with me to England?"

He looked quizzical.

"Weren't you the one who said you could live there?" he asked back and she stared at him before she laughed out loud, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

"I wasn't sure you'd wanna... I mean, you've made a life for yourself here and..."

"Shh," he hushed, holding her to him and smiling with her. "Never heard the old saying 'Home is where the heart is'? Home is where you are, Buffy. It's always been. The fact that you're actually living in MY homeland is merely the icing on the cake... I get to be where you are, love... that's all that matters."

She pulled back to have her eyes rest in his and then she smiled, her heart beating with the overwhelming joy she felt at knowing that she had found him - that one person almost everyone is eventually looking for to feel whole. She would never have to feel alone again.

"I feel the exact same way," she stated and his gaze grew soft before they shared another kiss.

"Wanna go to bed?" he asked and she cocked an eyebrow.

"No wasting time with you, is there?" she shot and he smirked, having one arm around her waist as they turned and walked in through the glass doors.

"We don't have much time to waste," he retorted.

"What happened to Mr. Optimist-Guy?!" she exclaimed in mock-sadness. "Bring him back, please."

"Fine then," he said. "We have all the time in the world so why not make the most of every last second?"

"God, I love you," she sighed, smiling, and he smiled back, bending down to grant her a kiss as they walked.

"I'll never tire of hearing that," he said.

"Not ever?" she asked and he shook his head. "Not even when we're both old and crippled and have to use wheel-chairs to get around?" she added and once again he shook his head. "Not even when my teeth are falling out and my hair is thin and gray and I'm not even in resemblance to what I look like today?" she inquired and he raised his eyebrows.

"You were beautiful when you were born, you'll be even more beautiful when you've lived an entire life time," he stated.

"And you promise you'll always say things like that whenever I'm having a do-you-really-love-me phase?" she wondered and he chuckled.

"Always," he assured.

"And you won't ever tire of me?" she asked as they began to walk up the stairs.

"No," he stated.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Will YOU ever tire of ME?" he retorted and she blinked, then smiled sheepishly.

"No. And you don't have to REPEAT my question for me to get the point, okay? We're stuck with each other," she finished and he smirked.

"Yeah, we are," he nodded.

"You know, moving onto something else. I was just thinking about this, and it IS a pretty silly expression - 'Home is where the heart is'. Know why?" she asked.

"I'm sure you'll tell me," he stated.

"Well, you can't LIVE without your heart, right? So naturally you'll have to reside wherever it is, don't you?"

"If you take it literally, but I think they do mean it in the 'love' heart kind," Spike remarked and she nodded.

"Yeah, but still, if you DID take it literally," she said.

"Yeah, well, still... If you take it literally then it's even truer, isn't it?" he inquired, taking the last step of the stairs and heading down the hallway to his room. "So there really is no purpose in analyzing it, is there?"

She reflected on that for a moment, then she shrugged.

"Guess not," she muttered, then looked up at him with another smile. "I bet you ten bucks I'll be in bed before you are."

"Clothes on...?" he asked and she cocked an eyebrow. "You're..." he started his acceptance, but before he had finished she had already bolted for the door. "...a cheater!" he yelled after her, and then he followed, a wide smile quickly spreading on his lips.

***

"What did Giles say?" Spike asked, nearly three hours later.

They were lying face to face, their legs crossing each other and their arms around the other, their noses merely inches apart.

"That he'll keep looking," she now answered him. "He's good with the books, but not a super-worm or anything. It takes some time for him to dig through them as well," she added and received a crooked smirk from Spike at that.

"Buffy..." he then said and she nodded as she could sense hesitation on his part. "Do you want kids?"

She stared at him, taken off guard by this sudden question. Still, she had to admit she had thought about it. She had thought about a lot of things ever since she first realized that he was straight through human.

"Yes," she finally answered him. "I do."

"How many?" he wondered and she smiled a little, not wanting her replies to come too quickly for some reason; as though she had spent hours contemplating them.

"Two," she then said. "Maybe three..."

"Boys or girls?"

"If we have two - I'd like one boy and one girl. If we have three - I'd like two girls," she stated and he smiled a small smile. "What?" she asked and he reached up a hand to slide it down her face and along her jaw line, then he answered:

"It's just pretty nice to hear you put a 'we' in that scenario," he murmured and she felt how she was blushing, though it was in larger part due to happiness.

"Yeah," she said, her voice painted with laughter as she grew self- conscious. "What about you, then?" she added, suddenly afraid that he might not want children at all.

"Five," he put her worries at ease with, the reply so certain that she gaped. "But I'll be willing to cut down on it if you don't want more than three," he calmed as her eyes had grown larger.

"No, no," she shook her head, giggling. "I'm sorry, it's not the number... It's just... you sound so sure of it."

"I never hand any brothers or sisters," he said. "I've always wanted a large family."

"Five it is," she mumbled and he was about to protest when she moved forward and kissed him gently. "It sounds... perfect."

He smiled a little, nudging the tip of his nose against hers and she kissed him again before pulling back.

"Will," she mumbled. "How old are you?"

He smiled widely at that, then replied:

"Twenty-five. Almost twenty-six."

She smiled as well. It sounded absurd. And yet...

"Almost?" she asked. "When's your birthday?"

"In three days," he replied after a short moment's second thought.

"In three...?" she trailed off.

In three days.

Then it would be exactly one year since he died...

"That's a bit strange," she grumbled and he smiled once more, shaking his head.

"Is it?" he then wondered and she met his gaze before she smiled back.

"Perhaps not," she replied, moving one hand to let her fingers brush down his cheek. "This year'll be different," she promised quietly and he let one hand place itself over hers as he held her gaze.

"It already is," he mumbled just as silently.

***

Buffy listened to Spike's slow breathing. When she was convinced he was asleep she slipped out of bed soundlessly, pulling on a sweater and her jeans before she glanced at him. A smile stole across her mouth and then she turned toward the door. Sneaking up to it she twisted the knob carefully and then pulled it open.

The hallway lay in darkness and she slid out through the slit between door and doorframe before she continued on her way as she stealthily made it to the stairs. Cautiously stepping down them she reached the second floor and peeked around the corner before she moved down that hallway as well.

There was no sound apart from her feet gently placing themselves on the carpeted floor and she stopped before the locked door of Susannah's bedroom without interruptions. They had all decided it should be sufficient if they merely kept her contained through imprisoning her, since she had barely woken up again after her talk with Buffy and Spike, and then she had merely stayed awake for a minute or so.

Now Buffy reached into her pocket and brought out the key to the door. She slid it into the lock and turned it, keeping her movements deliberate and slow.

Turning the knob she pushed the door open and poked her head inside.

Susannah was outlined in the bed as a mass of black. The Slayer could hear her breaths and knew she was sound asleep.

Good.

Moving again Buffy slipped inside, not bothering to push the door closed before she carefully began to make her way through the room. She checked the drawers of the large desk first. There were only notes of no interest, a few books and cd's. It seemed Susannah kept no journal, which was a bummer. Buffy kept up her pace, looking through the high chest-of-drawers - nothing but clothes - as well as the large closet - nothing but clothes and shoes. Next she turned to the bookcase, going through it methodically. Books, books, books.

Sighing to herself she turned around and noticed a square shaped bag tucking out from underneath the bed, just beneath the place where Susannah's back rested.

Buffy swallowed.

A risk, but one she was willing to take. If Susannah woke up...

I'll make up an excuse, the Slayer thought. I just wanted to check and see if everything was okay...

It seemed like it took an hour to get to the side of the bed and gently kneel down on the floor in order to be able to reach the bag. But it was done, and Buffy pulled the bag to her as she stood again. Moving away took merely a few seconds and she felt her hands trembling as she unzipped the bag with one quick movement.

Susannah stirred and Buffy had her heart catch in her throat for the amount of time it took the other to once again begin to breathe deeply.

Opening the bag Buffy reached into it and began to run her fingers over the various items.

Lip-stick, pocket mirror, the back of a book, a planner... Clasping the last one she brought it out of the bag and put the latter down as she eyed the thick notebook in her hand. Biting the inside of her cheek she got the rubber ribbon - securing the intestines of paper from pouring out - off and opened the book at the middle, where a paper-clip was fastened.

Never before could she remember a time where her night vision had been so welcomed.

Scanning the page before her she found, however, nothing of real interest. After a few minutes of searching and coming up with nothing she decided she didn't have the time. Picking the bag up again she put the ribbon back in place and restored the planner to its original resting place. Then she began looking for some other neighbor of it which might prove more useful and when her hand slid over something made of leather her eyes widened with excitement.

A wallet.

Bringing it out she repeated the procedure of putting the bag down at her feet and then she opened the thing in her hands, beginning to look through the various compartments. There were a few dollars, a few cents and pennies, but nothing else in the money compartments.

Flipping open the slits holding credit-cards and such her eyes grew further as they landed on the small plastic pockets which were kept there. In them were pictures... Old ones, it seemed. Of Susannah and her parents, no doubt. They looked so happy. Buffy felt a twirl of sudden empathy with the girl as she remembered how hard it had been on herself to lose her mother.

Pulling the picture out of the small plastic pocket which held it she looked closer at the faces. It was Susannah, for certain.

Buffy was about to put it back when a gut feeling of intuition made her turn it over.

She stared at what met her sight and then she turned her head to the still sleeping young woman in the bed.

"Oh, my God," the Slayer whispered.

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

-Twentieth-

By Annie

2003-10-22

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ ¤¤¤¤¤¤

Cordelia sighed, looking at the ceiling and feeling drained of any emotion but that of helplessness.

Oh, and of course - cold. It was as though her very blood was running slower through her veins and even though she was sleepy the emotion eluded claiming her. Finally she moved her covers aside and got off the bed. Thinking she heard a sound outside the door she paused with her hand on the knob, but then there was only silence and so she proceeded with caution; opening it and stepping out into the hallway. It lay deserted.

She made her way to Angel's door and noticed that it stood ajar. She hesitated, then couldn't help herself and pushed it open with one hand. She bit her lower lip as her nerves presented themselves as still keen and unfrozen when she softly took a few steps into the room.

"You awake?" she whispered and at first he didn't respond, then he slowly turned his head to her as his eyes opened and she smiled a little tryingly. "Can I come in?" she asked and he raised his eyebrows.

"You already are in," he commented, voice as low as hers and she smiled coyly.

"Right," she said.

"You could come a bit closer, though," he offered and she smiled again.

"Yeah," she agreed, still growing tentative before she took the paces left up to the side of the bed.

"And... sit?" he asked when she still hesitated and she seemed to grow flustered before she smiled for a third time, this time a bit brighter as she did take a seat.

"Are you freaking? 'Cause I think I might be, a little... and I think you're the only one who can actually understand why," she finally said and he smiled at that.

"Yeah, I'm a bit freaked," he admitted. "But I'm pretty sure it'll be all right."

"But... the prophecy," she grumbled and he nodded.

"Yeah."

"The fire, the water... dancing. We danced and now you're burning and I'm like ice!" she said, her tone telling how close to the edge she actually was and he reached out a hand, pausing it before he actually touched her and she felt a small sorrow near her heart as she remembered the kiss they had almost shared.

"Buffy was right," he now replied, "when she said that we keep getting surprised by things we should be expecting."

"We were supposed to be expecting THIS?" she asked as he moved his hand away and he shook his head.

"No, but something. Look at everything that's already happened..."

"Yeah, but why did it have to happen right then?" she pouted quietly and he observed her for a moment before he smiled.

"It was a pretty nice dance, wasn't it?" he wondered and she met his gaze before she mirrored his smile.

"It was," she agreed.

They grew silent, neither sure of what to say, of what to read into the other's body language.

"Can't sleep?" he then asked and she shook her head a little.

He moved to the side, getting one of the two pillows out from under his head and placing it beside him.

"There's room," he said and she blinked, not fully comprehending. "I won't have to touch you."

She licked her lips, thinking the offer over and then she smiled a small smile of gratefulness as she slowly moved herself so that she could lie down on the empty spot next to him. He sat up and grabbed one of the blankets at the foot of the bed, unfolding it and spreading it over her before he lay back down and she felt sudden anger - at the stupid way the heat in him scorched the cold in her. If it hadn't been for that...

"Thank you," she mumbled and then his hand slid to hers as hers was under the fabric of the blanket and his was on top of it.

She closed her eyes.

"No need," he replied, voice soft as her hand held his back.

***

It was seven o'clock when Buffy woke everybody up. She had gotten herself back to Spike's bedroom after she had made her discovery the previous night, and she had forced herself to get some sleep. Knowing that they all needed every hour they could get of precious rest as they were under such strain during their waking hours. For the first time in nearly two and a half months had she not dreamt anything, but slept five hours straight. It had done her good and she had risen revived.

She had taken a shower before dressing, kissing Spike on the forehead before she left the room in favor of the bottom floor and its kitchen. She made breakfast, trying to get all the thoughts in her head to stop their buzzing, and then she had headed back upstairs.

Now she had just finished the waking of all of the rest. She had asked no questions of why Cordelia was in Angel's bed, she had merely made it clear that she wanted them on their feet in less than fifteen minutes. She stayed away from Susannah's room for the time being as she took the last set of stairs and walked in to the room she herself had woken up in, to get Spike up and going. She did so by bracing herself before running across the floor, jumping up on the bed and then beginning to bounce on it as she sing- songed:

"Wake-y, wake-y! Wake-y, wake-y!"

He didn't seem to react, and then he suddenly reached up and grabbed her, tripping her so that she fell on top of him and she giggled before he got her close and joined their lips.

"Crazy bird," he murmured with his mouth still to hers and she smiled, kissing him again.

"It's seven-o-ten," she said. "Time to get up, my good man."

Moving out of his embrace she scooted to the edge of the bed and he rolled over on his stomach, observing her back before she twisted her upper body and gave him a glance.

"You're not up," she pointed out and he smirked.

"I'm getting there," he muttered.

"I've made you the tastiest breakfast you've ever had in your entire life and it's just waiting for you downstairs and know what?"

"What?"

"It's getting cold."

He smiled again, trying to grab her when she got to her feet and she turned around with a playful expression in her eyes.

"I have something important to tell everybody," she then said.

"What now?" he sighed and she cocked an eyebrow.

"You assume it's bad, just like that?"

"Buffy," he merely replied and she smiled again.

"Okay, fine. But it does have something good that comes with it. So get your lazy butt outta bed, lover. I wanna see you in the kitchen faster than you can think..." ending the sentence by blowing him a kiss she exited the room and he grumbled before rolling onto his back and sitting up, growing curious against his better judgment of what it was she had to tell.

Also finding himself alone without her presence in the room he hurried in getting ready, merely pulling on a pair of sweats and a dark-green T before taking the stairs and joining the other struggling-to-get-out-of-the-last- stage-of-sleep around the high table in the kitchen.

Cordelia looked slightly more chipper, though she seemed to be as chilled as ever. Angel, also, still looked overheated, though he too wore the hint of a smile which carried good tidings.

Everybody feasted, pleasantly surprised by the food already placed out for their enjoyment, and Buffy smiled and nodded as she heard their thanks.

"So," Angel was the one who spoke up, "we're all waiting for the reason. You haven't officially called a meeting, Buffy... but we know it has to have been something important for you to get us up so early."

"I.e. I always sleep late?" she asked.

"Not at all," he assured. "I know you don't ALWAYS. But... seriously, if given the choice?"

She rolled her eyes at him, then smiled a little as she got to her feet.

"Okay, I won't drag it out. More than's necessary... Angel, William... would you two come with me, please. I'd ask all of you, but I don't wanna have Susannah feel like I'm completely cornering her."

"I understand," Cordelia replied a little too quickly and Buffy furrowed her brow questioningly. "Well, most of us know what an... uncomfortable feeling it is to be... cornered," Cordelia elaborated stuttering and Buffy returned her trying smile before motioning for Angel and Spike to follow her out of the room; which they did.

They headed up the stairs under silence, though Buffy could feel their gazes resting on her back and she knew that they wanted to ask her what was up. They would soon find out.

She brought out the key to Susannah's room, which she had borrowed from Gunn the night prior under the motivation that she wanted to check up on the young woman. Buffy turned the knob and pushed the door open as she stepped through it. Angel and Spike followed and watched her as she continued, this time without any hesitation, up to the bed. She had replaced the bag where she had found it the night before.

"What are you doing?" Spike now whispered as she unceremoniously picked it up and opened it.

"You'll see," she replied. "Angel, would you please wake her?" she added and Angel cocked an eyebrow before he complied and approached the bed.

"What the hell's going on?" Spike demanded, voice still lowered and she gave him a look to be patient.

Susannah stirred as Angel gently shook her shoulder and then she slowly opened her eyes, squinting up at the vampire before she jerked, her eyes widening as she blinked and tried to get sleep away from her.

"What time is it?" she asked, then she noticed the other two present and she pulled herself up a little. "Is something wrong? Oh, God... did I do something else?"

"I don't..." Angel began, looking apologetic. "I'm not the one with the answer to that," he then added and turned to Buffy, who had put the bag down on the floor and held the wallet in her hands.

Susannah's eyes grew even wider and Buffy smiled as soothingly as she could before she held the item up and Susannah frowned, growing clearly quizzical.

"What about it?" she then asked. "Did I throw it at you...? Beat you with it?"

"No," Buffy replied, opening it up and letting her fingers pull the picture she had discovered merely a few hours earlier out, holding it up instead and Susannah raised her eyebrows.

"That's me, yes. And my mother and father," she said and Buffy nodded. "How did you know I had it there? Have you been going through my things?" the former added with a frown.

"I'm sorry, but I think that privacy is something of the past tense where we're concerned," Buffy remarked. "I AM sorry," she added at the now raised eyebrows of the two men as well. "But I knew that you guys wouldn't be too keen on the idea; and Susannah - I don't trust you enough right now to just ask you if I can have a look at your stuff. That's the truth."

"Fine. Can't object to it now, can I?" Susannah asked. "I'm not sure what you thought you'd find, though."

"I didn't think I'd find anything at all," Buffy assured. "Except maybe a clue of some sort. A helpful hint at what links you to everything that's happening..."

"And that picture gave you that; is that what you're saying?" Susannah wondered, skeptically, and at that Buffy nodded slowly.

"Why didn't you tell me," she then began asking. "on that first day I came here and told you all about my dream, why didn't you tell me that your first name isn't Susannah at all? And if the reason was that you weren't sure of what to make of me - why didn't you tell Angel? Or Will?"

"Because I didn't think it mattered," Susannah answered, almost pleadingly. "I've never used my first name, I don't relate to it and most of the time I don't even remember that it's there. I just..."

She trailed off as she seemed to come to the understanding that she was speaking words that couldn't redeem the mistake she had evidently made.

"What are you talking about?" Spike asked and Buffy reached the picture out to him.

He took it and when she gestured for him to turn it over, he did. He blinked, then read the line which was written on the back.

"'With love from mom to Aria'," he recited, looking up at Susannah who had an expression of quiet guilt on her features.

"I didn't think it mattered," she repeated meekly. "I didn't even think of it - period. I'm not even so certain that it is significant to anything of what's happening. It's a family name. We never used it because of that. You know? Mom used her second name, it was natural that I would too. She and dad always called me Suse... Look, my point is - I didn't plan on not telling you and..." pausing she seemed to suddenly be hit by a realization and she frowned slightly as she finished: "Buffy, you don't actually believe I'M part of your dream, do you?"

"It's a Slayer dream," Buffy replied simply. "It's meant as a warning and it was obviously warning me that you'd be in trouble."

"I'm so sorry for not getting with the program," Susannah replied. "Really. I never could have imagined..."

"It's okay," Buffy assured. "I mean, it's cool; as long as you're not apposed to us doing some more close-ups on you... And there might be questions that'll need answering."

Susannah nodded, then looked at her hands in her lap for a few moments before she murmured:

"A part of me wishes I'd never come here. I feel so bad that I'm causing you all this trouble."

"The prophecy got here before you did," Angel reminded. "We'd be stuck in the middle of all this whether you were here or not, and honestly I'd rather have you with us than out there alone."

"I can never repay you..." she said and he shook his head.

"Don't even go there," he stated and she smiled a little.

"We have a meeting to see Forte at half past ten," Buffy now spoke and Susannah turned her eyes back in hers. "The bottle... Do you know what it looks like?"

"I only know its small enough to fit in your hand," she answered. "And its got some sort of pattern on it..."

"How do you know?" Buffy asked.

"I've seen it. In my dreams. This demon... it fears it," Susannah answered, her voice now close to a whisper and she seemed to begin to grow anxious.

"What does it feel like?" Buffy inquired.

"What do you mean?" Susannah asked back and Buffy smiled a little.

"The demon. Does it hurt you? Do you know how it came to be within you? Does it speak to you? Has it got a name?" she then wondered, stopping when she glanced at Spike and he shook his head a little for her not to push so hard. "Sorry," she grumbled, her gaze back in Susannah's and the latter gave a small smile that it was all right.

"It hurts me when it takes over and then when it pulls back," she answered.

"Takes over?"

"I've had... blackouts. They were a lot worse before I came here. They started about a year ago and the longest one I had lasted for nearly three hours... The last one I had, before they stopped for a really long time, was on the night I came here and I thought... foolishly enough... that they had gone away. That I wasn't going crazy. That the voice... in my head... wasn't..."

Her eyes filled with tears and she closed them, drawing a breath; her hands now tightly knotted together in her lap and she moved them twitchily.

"Then - yesterday - I suddenly suffered one again..."

"And you can't remember anything from when you're in these... blackouts?"

"Fragments. Flashes of memories I don't recall being part in creating," Susannah replied to the Slayer's question.

"And when did you - or do you - hear this voice you spoke of?"

"It doesn't exactly announce itself first... It's just... there," Susannah mumbled, her tears now slipping down her cheeks and she opened her eyes, looking up at Buffy once more. "Whenever," the former added. "When I least expect it. When this thing in me thinks..." She had almost raised her voice and she cut herself off, clearly frightened, before she finished in a lower tone: "When it thinks I'll be the most vulnerable."

"And how does it mix into your dreams?" Buffy asked.

"I'm not sure of how... Maybe I reach another state of consciousness while I'm sleeping and somehow I'm able to read the demon's thoughts... It sounds a bit out there, but..."

"No," Buffy shook her head. "It doesn't," she added with reassurance. "Tell me about what you see."

"Just images and emotions attached to them. Horrible things... Death. Tortures. So much blood... It's awful," Susannah murmured.

Buffy paused for a moment, unsure of whether to pursue more answers or if that was enough.

"One final thing," she said. "This bottle... Have you any idea of what it'll do?"

"It has to save me," Susannah replied quietly. "It has to... I can feel how the demon's taking me over a little bit more each time it wakes. I'm afraid that soon... there won't be anything of me left."

"That won't happen," Spike stated and Susannah turned her eyes in his with a weak smile.

"I have a feeling it's not really something you can promise," she said and though he returned her smile, his was also sad.

"We'll come in and see you again after the meeting," Buffy now said, announcing that it was time for them to leave.

Susannah nodded to Buffy's words and then they all said their good-byes for the time being.

"Be careful," Susannah stopped Buffy by saying as the latter was heading out through the door. "The name of Forte makes the demon in me very uncomfortable... and I'm actually not convinced it's on the good-front for us," she added and Buffy raised her eyebrows before she gave a nod, proceeding through the doorway where the other two had just gone.

***

"This whole scenario is so frickin' out of wack I don't even want to get too much into it," Cordelia grumbled, sniffling slightly before she began to stir her dash of milk into her steaming tea. "Might actually lose my mind," she added, widening her eyes at the last three words and Buffy smiled a little.

It was close to nine o'clock and she had finished retelling what they had learned from Susannah fifteen minutes earlier.

Gunn had headed back upstairs. Fred had soon followed. They had promised to keep an eye on Susannah as she might slip back into another deep sleep and they didn't know if that might be nothing but a preface for the demon.

"You look..." Buffy now began, but at Cordelia's warning look she stopped the sentence before it had a chance to develop and at the quick quietness of her, Cordelia smiled.

"I know I'm no miss America right now, okay? Don't need it to be pointed out to me," she then muttered in mock-annoyance, having Buffy smile as well.

"That wasn't what I was going to say," she replied. "I just wanted to ask if you're feeling all right, 'cause you look a bit ill?"

"It's the damn chill," Cordelia grumbled, bringing the mug to her lips and blowing softly on the contents before taking a careful sip. "Mh - hot," she said, then elaborated on her previous statement with: "It's giving me a cold! Can you believe it?!"

Buffy smirked.

"Other than that, then?" she wondered, grabbing her cup of coffee and following Cordelia to take a seat at the table. "How are you?"

"I... don't really know. I mean... How did you... do it?" Buffy frowned, wondering. "Well, I mean... being... Well, LIKING someone... when he's..."

"Older than you?" Buffy asked with another smile and Cordelia smiled back at that.

"Among other things," she murmured and Buffy laughed.

"Good question," she nodded. "I tried not to. But... love is the one force that can't ever be oppressed, you know? It gets into places where it shouldn't be... It's quite... extraordinary, don't you think?"

"You're thinking of Spike now, aren't you?" Cordelia wondered and Buffy had another kind of smile settle on her lips; a dreamy smile which confirmed the affirmative answer to Cordelia's question.

"Well, the first was about Angel. I really did try not to fall in love with him... not to be in love with him... But I couldn't stop it. Nor could I stop how I ended up falling in love with Spike... I can't explain any of it. You just love that person for who he is, and everything else pans out. The age difference isn't that big of a deal when you can talk about everything almost as if you'd been born on the same day... And the immortal bit, Cordy - if you love him then that's not an obstacle for you. Either of you. Angel is one of the best men I've ever known. He has his darker sides, that's true, but his love is one of the greatest things I could ever wish for another person. You have it. I'm sure you know that you do."

Cordelia stared at her, the formers cheeks turning just a slightly deeper shade of red before she smiled a little, looking into her mug for a moment and trying to digest that very bold statement.

"What makes you so certain?" she finally asked and Buffy smiled widely.

"The two of you make it so obvious it's impossible for everyone else to not notice what you two pretend to be too blind NOT to have noticed..."

"And you're not weirded out about this? I mean, I have to admit it felt really weird to me when you first came here... Seeing you with William... I mean, I know you've moved on. And I... What am I trying to say?" she sighed, shaking her head a little and Buffy smiled again.

"I'm happy you found each other," she stated, honestly. "I think that was what you were trying to ask. And you really don't need my blessing."

Cordelia smirked at that.

"True," she then agreed and Buffy's smile broadened.

"It may sound cliché-y and everything, but believe me - when the time's right everything 'll just fall into place," she assured and Cordelia sighed.

"Yeah, right. The perfect time was yesterday and the prophecy managed to screw it up," she grumbled, making Buffy's eyes grow slightly with interest.

"Do spill," she urged when Spike leaned in through the doorway saying:

"Time to roll, sweetheart."

Buffy turned her head his way, but he had already disappeared and she rolled her eyes as she got to her feet.

"Hold the thought, 'kay?" she asked Cordelia, who nodded; smiling.

Reaching out a hand as Buffy was turning away the dark-haired stopped the blonde and the latter looked back at her.

"Thanks," Cordelia said. "For... understanding. You're the only one who can, I think, and... I dunno. I miss that sometimes. Having someone to really talk with, you know?"

"What about Faith?" Buffy asked. "I thought you two got along pretty well."

"It's not the same," Cordelia answered. "You and I, we..."

Buffy smiled as the other trailed off.

"Thanks," she then said and Cordelia mirrored her expression before Buffy turned and left the room.

Cordelia brought the mug to her lips again, taking a mouthful of the now cooler liquid and she realized that it was her hands which were making it lose temperature so quickly as they were wrapped around the porcelain. Grumbling she let it go and pushed it slightly away from her.

Then she smiled again.

Thinking of Angel.

If only they could beat the prophecy at its own game, stop the countdown today and restore everything to normal. With Forte might be answers.

No, with Forte there HAD to be answers.

"There has to," she mumbled, reaching out for the mug again and drawing a sharp breath as it cracked when the contents of it turned straight through into ice.

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