Title: Everlasting Moon
Author: JR
Email: JRR42@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13
Category: Drama
Summary: Six years after graduation, two old friends run into each other.
Distribution: No, not at this time. Will eventually be available at: www.angelfire.com/de/theparlor/buffy.html
Feedback: Hell, yes!
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Mutant Enemy/Joss/WB and are used without permission. This story is not intended to infringe upon any copyrights, nor is any profit being made from it.
Thanks: To Carrie and Marius for their beta efforts. This is a beta copy of the story -- not the fully edited zine version. So any typos are mea culpa.
Dedicated to Marius for our 2am beach conversations on the meaning of life. See you at the Hawiian. I love you.
This one came from a comment DB made when asked to reveal a ‘weird quirk’ about himself. He answered that he ‘liked to dig his butt into the sand at the beach.’ Some of you list 'old timers' might remember the quote in question ;-)
This story originally appeared in the fanzine 'Angel's Heart' published by VisionQuest Press. For anyone interested, VisionQuest is set to publish 'Angel's Heart 2'. If you're interested in ordering or just more information, please email: vqpress@zeelandnet.nl
‘Hanging in the sky, the perfect alibi,
Baby, come outside with me, there’s this moon you’ve got to see.
Smiling every place, with his laser-painted face,
Light of love in each moonbeam, won’t you step in my dream?’
--Everlasting Moon, Jimmy Buffett
‘Has it really been six years?’ Angel thought to himself as he wandered through the town that he had once called home. It was hard to believe this was the same Sunnydale that he had so abruptly left behind after Mayor Wilkens’ failed ascension attempt.
As Angel slowly ambled onward, he did his best to stick to the shadows. Unfortunately, it was no longer as easy as it used to be. The streets, which had once upon a time been wisely deserted at this time of night, were teaming with people of all ages. Between the crowds of people out and about on a Friday evening and the powerful street lamps that had been installed after he left, Angel felt numerous pairs of eyes upon him.
Eyes that were filled with pity.
The vampire was uncertain if it was all the walking he was doing or simply some kind of psychosomatic reaction to the stares he was receiving, but the constant ache he lived with every day was suddenly growing into a relentless throb. He supposed that he really should not be complaining. After being crushed under 2,000 pounds of concrete, the vampire was lucky not to be in a decorative urn on Cordelia’s mantle. But Angel was not one for excessive gratitude and happy thoughts. He had used up his lifetime’s allotment of both a long time ago. What he really needed was to be alone at that moment, away from all the happy-go-lucky people of Sunnydale.
He needed to be alone with his memories of this place -- both good and bad.
Looking at his surroundings, Angel wondered where he could go to escape. It was apparent that Main Street was no longer well suited to his needs. Once upon a time, Sunnydale’s downtown had reeked of death -- a slow, lingering, painful death caused by the defection of consumers to either the Sunnydale mall or to the local WalMart. What few shops that had not been driven out of business all closed promptly at six every night of the week. Of course, the fact that vampires roamed freely throughout the area killing potential customers did not do much to drum up business, either.
Apparently, downtown Sunnydale had undergone one of those ‘neighborhood revitalization’ programs during Angel’s absence. Now, instead of deserted storefronts and cheap five-and-dime’s, everywhere he looked, there were artsy, yuppie-type establishments. Creative jewelry and clothing stores were flanked by rollerblade rental shops and trendy bars. It seemed as if every corner had one of those pseudo-intellectual coffeehouses that poured liquid caffeine into cups so ridiculously large, it could drive a narcoleptic from coma to postal in a single serving. Speaking of coffee, there was even a second Starbucks in town these days.
Cordelia would be so impressed.
But his faithful, evil-fighting sidekick had elected to visit her parents at their new house in San Francisco for the week. She had, of course, invited Angel to join her. The thought, however, of recuperating at the home of the pretentious Mr. and Mrs. Chase made Angel’s blood run even colder than it normally did. Promising Cordy that he would leave Los Angeles while she was unable to protect his back, the vampire had opted to return to his former town for the first time in six years.
Not that he recognized much of it, anymore.
Angel continued to limp awkwardly down the street, still pondering his options on how to kill some time that evening. The hotel room he had rented early in the evening was not an option. If he had desired moping around a non-descript room, he would have stayed at his own apartment in Los Angeles. Having burned down to the ground the previous year, the old mansion on Crawford Street was no longer available. The Bronze was also out of the running. Angel had passed by it earlier that evening and been stunned by the run-down appearance of the place. The smell of stale liquor and old urine around the entrance only reinforced the scum-like quality of the roughnecks Angel saw entering the former teen club. It was another of his memory’s landmarks lost to slow changes he had not been around to witness.
For a moment, the vampire considered making the trek over to the Sunnydale High School library, but he soon thought better of it. Like everything else around him, the library had changed since his last visit. After the explosion that destroyed the demonic Mayor Wilkens, the library had been completely rebuilt. Besides, the place just would not have been the same without Giles’ all-too-familiar presence.
Angel supposed that he could go over to Joyce Summers’ place, as Buffy’s mother still lived in town. In fact, Angel had made plans to see her the following evening, since she already had pre-existing plans for tonight. Despite his nervousness in calling her after such a prolonged silence, Joyce had been both surprised and delighted to hear from her daughter’s former boyfriend. There was genuine, honest truth in her voice when she insisted that he come by the house to at least say hello. Only after he had hung up the phone did Angel realize how lonely it must be for Joyce here in Sunnydale. She was, after all, the only person with a direct part in the ‘Slayerettes’ still left in town.
‘Why did I ever come back here?’ Angel thought miserably to himself.
Limping painfully, he continued his aimless wandering, not quite knowing for what he was searching.
Perhaps it was the hint of salt that constantly flavored Sunnydale’s air, or maybe it was simply knowing that it would be the one place in town that would not have changed in his absence, but twenty minutes later, Angel found himself at the otherwise-deserted Sunnydale beach.
Brooding as he -- quite painfully -- leaned forward to remove his shoes and socks, Angel could not help noticing the symmetry between himself and his surroundings. Like the vampire, the beach was dark and mysterious, old and unchanging in comparison to what was happening in the world around it. Like the sea, Angel had his secrets -- terrible ones that would forever be lost in the depths of his mind.
Hobbling carefully down the gentle slope of the handicap access ramp, Angel paused for just a moment to drop his shoes and socks over the side. Not used to navigating inclines, the vampire needed both his hands free in order to grip the railings for support. His descent was three minutes of sheer agony, but the moment he felt the cool sand under his bare feet, Angel knew the pain had been worth it.
Even when he had been a resident of the town, he never spent that much time here. Most vampires avoided the area when they could. Too often deserted to be considered good feeding grounds, beaches in general were usually too far away from sufficient places of refuge from the morning sun. The comforting feeling of sand between one’s toes was hardly worth getting turned into an ashy briquette if one stayed out a few minutes too long.
The lingering salt of the sea air tickling his sense of smell had a calming effect on the vampire. For the first time since he arrived in town, the sickly knot in Angel’s stomach showed signs of easing off ever so slightly. Considering how tense he was at the moment, it was not a great improvement, but Angel had learned long ago that sometimes one had to take what little one could get.
It was only after taking a few pain-inducing steps that the vampire realized the lunacy of his impulsiveness. The uneven, sinking nature of the sand impeded his already awkward gait even further. Biting back a growl of frustration at his own limitations, Angel refused to do the logical thing and turn back toward the way he had come. ‘Besides,’ Angel tried to motivate himself, ‘didn’t Whistler tell me that I need to keep working my muscles if I wanted to heal completely? Of course, somehow I don’t think that he was referring to four-mile long midnight strolls, though.’ Setting aside his common sense, Angel pressed forward, moving closer to the water.
The ocean was calm that night -- well, as calm as the Pacific ever got, at any rate. The flowing echo of the waves meeting the sandy shore was a soothing sound to the vampire’s ears. ‘Small, smaller, small, bigger. Small, small, big,’ Angel considered the size of the waves, trying -- and miserably failing -- to tap into the rhythm of Nature herself. But Nature had been marching to her own beat for millions of years -- far too long to give up any of her secrets, even to the world’s only vampire with a soul.
Angel stopped a few feet away from the water’s edge. Every now and then his toes were tickled by the foamy remnants of the larger waves. Although his condition prohibited him from jumping back out of the water’s reach, the vampire wouldn’t have given in to the impulse, even if he had been able. He was finding too much peace in the way the ocean was teasingly caressing his flesh.
Drawing in an unneeded breath, Angel sigh in contentment as his gaze rose upward from the shoreline. Past the rocks and the breaking whitecaps they caused, the vastness of the Pacific stretched out in front of him. It was almost as if the ocean herself was taunting him with her never-ending depths. His eyes roamed over the surface, observing the subtle shifts as the colors changed from black to midnight blue to the shimmering white reflection from the heavenly body illuminating the night-darkened sky.
The moon was painfully full that night, almost appearing to defy gravity like a juicy, over-ripe fruit dangling from a vine. So powerful was the light it reflected, Angel’s photo-sensitive eyes teared over as he beheld the sight. Once his vision adjusted to the unusual brightness, he was unable to prevent himself from being captured by its distended beauty.
The orb was so low in the sky, from his current spot, it almost appeared that it would sink into the ocean’s depths upon completion of its nightly journey. As it was, the moon seemed near enough that Angel almost believed he could reach it by walking on foot.
Stifling a chuckle over his own foolishness, the vampire nevertheless felt the impulse to keep moving. With some luck he hoped to find a better vantage-point to watch the moon as it moved across the otherwise-darkened sky. Turning south in order to keep the heavenly body in his line of sight, the vampire began his painful, yet strangely cathartic journey.
With each jarring step he took, Angel could feel a small measure of the pain of the past three months fall away. So much had happened since that night -- the hours of wondering if he would survive his injuries, the uncertainty that he even wanted to by that point, the days of drifting in and out of unconsciousness, and the endless weeks and months of therapy and recuperation. There were times that all of it seemed overwhelming, that once again, he had managed to sidestep inevitable death -- *real*, end-of-his-existence-type death. However, as always, Fate had managed to dole out a severe punishment for foiling her plans.
‘Enough already!’ Angel scolded himself. He was alive, so to speak, and actually *walking* on a beautiful stretch of beach under one of the most magnificent moons he could recall in decades. He could certainly keep from brooding for one lousy night, couldn’t he? What was it that Cordelia was always telling him?
‘Get over the past, Angel. Live, like, in the now, ‘cause you sure don’t know if there’s gonna be a ‘soon’.’
Angel could almost hear Cordy’s voice echoing in his head. Not for the first time, the vampire thanked the powers-that-be for the former May Queen’s continued presence in his life, for her persistence in maintaining their friendship. It had not always be so, though.
Angel, like so many others, had greatly underestimated Cordelia Chase the first few years he knew her. He had dismissed her as flighty and self-absorbed, uncaring about anything beyond how it impacted her own life. To a certain degree, that assessment *was* pretty much on the mark.
But Time and Fate had conspired against Cordelia, taking away the lifestyle that was such an intrinsic part of her character. Alone and disfranchised from her former world, it was tough-going for Cordy when she first moved out to L.A. -- at least until she ran into an old acquaintance suffering from problems similar to her own.
Angel and Cordelia’s initial encounters in the City of Angels were rocky at best. Even back in Sunnydale, neither had considered the other to be ‘a friend.’ It was mostly by default the way they ended up spending so much time together. At first Cordy had simply needed a job to make ends meet, and Angel just happened to need an assistant, of sorts. That position, however, ended up expanding beyond either of their wildest dreams over the years.
As time passed, the sharp edges of Cordelia personality eroded away, allowing Angel to plainly see the good heart that, for so long, had rested beneath a self-imposed layer of snobbishness. Under that feigned air of superiority rested an incredible well of common sense. Abated by her still razor-sharp tongue, Cordelia proved to have an amazing knack for cutting straight through the brooding guilt Angel wrapped around himself like a cloak. As their understanding of each other continued to progress, he found himself relying upon her more and more.
Now, six years later, Cordelia’s was so many things to the vampire, he could hardly put his feelings for her into words. She was, by turn, his backup in the fight against evil, his link to the world of daylight that was forbidden to him. She was his representative to the outside world and his source for news and information about his former friends in Sunnydale. Most importantly -- to Angel at any rate -- Cordelia had become his most beloved friend and confidant.
While Cordy played all those rolls in Angel’s life, there was one part that she would never fill -- that of his lover. Sure, they both found the other to be good looking. In fact, if they had been given a quarter for every time somebody commented on what a handsome couple they made together, they would both be rich.
No, it was not attractiveness that they lacked together, but rather *attraction*. Whatever spark it was that ignited sexual tension between two people was clearly missing in the chemistry of their relationship. Truth be told, Angel was more than a little relieved by its absence and, although she never stated as much, he suspected that Cordy was, too. Despite their friendship, she never forgot that Angel was, indeed, a vampire, and therefore, unsuitable boyfriend material. Likewise, as much as Angel cared for Cordelia, there were times that her self-centeredness rose back up like a demon from a Hellmouth. He could not stand to be around her when she was like that, especially since that behavior reminded him so much of Buffy.
‘You’re brooding again, you stupid vampire,’ the ‘Cordy-voice’ in Angel’s mind chided. ‘What is it with you? You really can’t help it, can you? You barely stand up from one brood before you fall right down into another one. It’s like watching some demonic version of the Three Stooges. You’re like...slapstick-brooding-vampire guy.’
Surprisingly enough to Angel, the old adage that ‘time heals all wounds’ seemed to be true, at least where Buffy was concerned. No longer did mere thought of her send him spiraling down into a well of emotional angst. It wasn’t that he had ceased to care entirely about his former lover, no, not in the least. Put simply, the flame between them had merely died down to an ember, one that he would only occasionally stoke in the back corners of his mind.
‘Not tonight,’ Angel told himself, tucking all thoughts of his former girlfriend back into their proper place in the recesses of his memory.
It was, he supposed, inevitable that Buffy would come to mind. After all, he had chosen to return to the scene of the crime, so to speak. But he did have other memories of Sunnydale. Some of the best -- and worse -- moments of his long existence had happened only a few miles away from the place he was currently standing.
The vampire remained lost in his thoughts until the muted, dull throb in his leg flared into sharp, shooting pains. From the messages his body was telegraphing via his nervous system, the vampire suddenly realized that he had well and truly overexerted himself with this walk of his. Coming to a sudden halt, Angel paused to take stock of his location.
Swiveling his upper body around, the vampire looked over his shoulder. He was startled when he realized just how far he had actually walked. The wooden ramp he descended down earlier was no longer in sight -- not even with his powerful vampiric night vision. Chiding himself for his own stupidity, Angel began the labored process of turning around, a task sorely impeded by his injuries. Cursing his own clumsy movements, the vampire set off again. This time he headed back the way he had so recently come.
In the first few minutes of his return journey, Angel occasionally came across remnants of his own footprints in the sand. The impressions were in various stages of degradation, depending upon where the waves had randomly swept up along the shore. Every now and then, he would find a few of them unmolested by the water’s touch. Angel looked upon the unblemished marks in the sand with a childlike sense of reverence. It may have seemed odd to a normal person, but to a vampire who had not seen so much as his own reflection for the past 226 years, it was simply awe-inspiring. In Angel’s mind, it was a testament -- real, indelible proof that he actually existed.
The vampire was so caught up in his study of the sand, he almost missed the person standing down the beach from him. As it happened, the only reason he noticed the interloper at all was the glimmering flash of red that he caught out of the corner of his eye. Even so, it took a second for his mind to process that the some*thing* he saw was actually a some*one*. So much for his predatory instincts, Angel mused to himself.
She was standing knee-deep in the water, further out from Angel’s relatively dry position a little higher on the beach. She must not have sensed his presence, Angel surmised, since she remained facing out toward the open water. The vampire could not help but smile fondly at the sight of her long, red hair flowing in the soft ocean breeze. Every time he saw a redhead, he always thought of...
‘Willow?’ Angel thought wildly. ‘It *couldn’t* be! She’s still back East.’ Even as he tried to dissuade himself of the notion, the vampire knew without a doubt that the girl...no, *woman*...standing before him was, indeed, his old friend. ‘What is she doing, here?’
Although they spoke by phone and e-mail every couple of months, it had been almost a year and a half since the last time he had seen Willow in person. The occasion back then had been her farewell party. She had been leaving Sunnydale to begin her post-graduate studies at M.I.T. -- which was where, as far as Angel knew, she should have been at that very moment.
Although her unexpected presence surprised the vampire, he was thoroughly delighted to have an opportunity to see her again. Willow still appeared to be unaware that she was no longer alone on the beach. Angel was about to call out to her, to make her aware of his presence, when the sound of her voice reached his ears.
“I guess you haven’t heard, but the Hellmouth closed up shop a while ago,” Willow called out loudly in order to be heard over the sound of the crashing waves. She did not, however, turn around to face him. Instead, she stood her ground. Perched on her right foot, she idly -- almost disinterestedly -- swept her lower left leg back and forth to create a swirling pattern in the already churning tidal water.
Her voice was achingly familiar to Angel, but the tone she spoke in was one he had never before heard her use. Although basically the same, there was a sharpness to it, an edge that warned this woman was not to messed with. About to call out to get her attention, Angel was startled when she spoke a second time, still not bothering so much as to glance in his direction.
“Take another step closer and they’ll need a dustrag and a can of Pledge to pick up what’s left of you.”
‘How did she know...?’ Angel wondered, both stunned and impressed by turns. Either she had grown powerful enough in the Wiccan arts to sense the presence of one of his kind, or she had already seen him approaching from a distance. If the latter thought was true, however, Angel had to wonder why was she being so openly hostile toward him. Had he done something to anger her? How could he have, he had not even talked to her since before he was...injured. Perhaps that was the problem.
‘There’s only one way to find out,’ the vampire reasoned. Hoping to dispel any potential tension Willow might have, he decided to announce his presence with a touch of humor.
“So,” Angel called out to the not-so-distant figure. As soon as Willow heard his voice, she noticeably stiffened. There was a short pause, as if the petite redhead doubted her own hearing before she pivoted around sharply to face him. Ignoring the incredulous expression on her face, Angel continued speaking. “What’s a nice witch like you doing in a boring town like this?”
“I could ask a vampire like you the same thing,” she replied with a laugh of genuine amusement.
“Well,” Angel replied, carrying on the joke even further. “I’ve heard the nightlife around here is great, but personally, I don’t think it’s as...interesting...as it used to be.”
“Yeah. Thank God!” Willow enthused.
At the mention of the now-defunct Hellmouth, an odd measure of silence seemed to overcome both of the old friends. For his part, Angel was merely content to simply take in Willow’s appearance. She was dressed casually in a calf-length peasant skirt. At some point, the young witch must have tacked the hem of the lower garment up into the waistband in an effort to keep it dry from the touch of the waves. It lent Willow an even greater air of childlike innocence than she normally carried.
The effect, however, ended once Angel’s eyes traveled up her lithe frame. Unlike the flowing material of her skirt, Willow’s shirt was much more adult in fashion. Between the plunging neckline and the way the cut of the tight fabric emphasized her curves, it was impossible to ignore that fact that she was a full-grown woman. It was odd, the vampire noticed, that even though Cordelia had many tops similar in style, his partner never looked as...sensuous in them as Willow did.
To make matters worse -- or better, Angel could not decide which it was -- the moonlight made Willow’s pale skin appear almost incandescent. She looked even more beautiful than he remembered, if that were possible.
‘What *am* I thinking?’ Angel questioned the direction his thoughts were taking. ‘This is *Willow*, remember? Buffy’s best friend? The one person in the past one hundred years who’s been nice to me without wanting anything in return?’
Coming back from his mental meandering, the vampire was embarrassed when he found Willow staring at him questioningly. It was only then that he noticed something else. Willow was still rooted in the same place she had been since she initially sensed his presence. He wondered if she was angry with him for not maintaining a better correspondence. Another possibility occurred to Angel, one that upset him even more than his first scenario. After all this time, Willow wasn’t afraid of him, was she?
In the mire of his insecurities, one lone, optimistic thought stood out above the morbid possibilities. Maybe, just maybe, Willow was waiting for Angel to make the first move. After all, the vampire was never the most demonstrative person on his *best* day, let alone the rest of the time.
Grasping onto the thought like a drowning man clutching a life preserver, Angel took a giant leap of faith. All of his instincts were screaming at him to run to her, to grab her in his arms and spin her around like some scene out of an old romantic movie. He lifted one foot, fully intending on meeting her halfway, when his body painfully reminded him that it was not yet up to moving quickly.
His discomfort, however, was not simply physical, but mental as well. When it came down to it, the thought of Willow seeing him…crippled, bothered Angel. It was silly, really, when he thought about it. Almost two hundred and fifty years old, and he was still as susceptible to pride and vanity as a typical teenager. There had to be another way, he reasoned. Then he thought of one.
Instead of moving, Angel gave the redhead a genuine smile – one that conveyed every ounce of his true happiness at running into her again. He could feel the corners of his eyes crinkle as he finally broke the silence between them that seemed to stretch on endlessly.
“I promise I won’t bite,” he teased. Then, without another word, Angel stretched out his arms in a silent request.
A huge grin broke out on Willow’s face, one so bright, it could have illuminated an entire city block. Willow gave a loud ‘whoop’ before accepting Angel’s open invitation. Angel chuckled out loud as he watched his old friend literally bounce toward him. Bracing himself as she covered the last few feet between them, the vampire bit back a groan of pain as she jumped up, her feet dangling off the ground as she clung to his neck.
Angel’s hands were by no means idle. He wrapped them around her waist, in part to support, but mostly just as a means to hold her tightly. Tilting his head slightly, the vampire pressed his cheek against her silky hair. As he held on to her, Angel wondered how he could have forgotten just how much he missed this exuberant girl’s presence in his life.
All good things, however, must come to an end. With his leg about to buckle under the strain of the extra weight, Angel loosened his grip, allowing her to slide down his body until her feet were firmly on the sand. He did, however, leave his arms around her waist, refusing to let her go completely.
“It’s *so* good to see you, Angel,” she said sincerely.
“It’s good to see you, too, Willow,” Angel reassured her, just in case she had any doubts.
“I’m just, like, totally surprised, though,” she replied with a dazzling grin. “Of all the possible people I would have guessed that I might run into here, I have admit that you’re, like, the last on the list. Isn’t that silly? I don’t know why I might expect to see Buffy, or Cordy, or Giles, but not you. I mean, this was your home too. I’ve just thought that you were avoiding Sunnydale, ‘cause we all noticed that you kinda *never* come here whenever you can get around it.”
Caught by Willow’s plainly spoken truth, Angel blanched. Although he never admitted it, even to himself, he *had* purposely stayed away from the town, especially after the Slayerettes successfully closed the Hellmouth. With the portal to Hell sealed for the next thousand years, and the town virtually vampire-free, Angel found few reasons to return. Willow must have noticed his distressed expression, because the next thing Angel knew, she was verbally back-peddling like a professional.
“Oh, God! I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I mean, I’m really happy to see you, it’s just that it’s like, *so* unexpected.” Angel smiled as Willow paused to take a breath. Some things, he mused silently, never changed, and as he gazed fondly at his rapidly speaking friend, he prayed silently that she never would.
“It’s okay, Willow,” Angel reassured. “I know what you mean…or what you meant…when you said that, I mean…” Realizing that he, too, was rambling, the vampire abruptly stopped speaking altogether.
A moment of total silence passed before they both started laughing. It seemed that Willow’s galloping mouth had miraculously spread to the normally silent vampire.
“So, what *are* you doing here?” Willow reiterated her earlier question.
“Believe it or not, I’m just taking a break from L.A. for a few days,” he answered.
“Did Cordy come with you?” Willow’s face took on a hopeful expression.
“No,” the vampire replied with an apologetic shake of his head. “She went down to San Fran to visit her parents.”
“Oh,” the redhead considered the information with a frown of puzzlement. “I just talked to her a few days ago, and she didn’t mention anything about it. In fact, she said something about *not* being able to leave L.A. for the next month or so.”
“Things...changed,” Angel explained vaguely. He really preferred *not* discussing the issue, so he simply changed the subject. “So what are *you* doing in Sunnydale. I thought your classes didn’t end for another three months.”
“They don’t,” Willow confirmed. “My mom’s fiftieth birthday is tomorrow, and they’re having a big party to celebrate it.”
“It’s great that you came home for it,” the vampire said in all honesty. Not that he expected anything less from her. While Angel knew little about her family life, he did know Willow and her tremendous sense of obligation. Perhaps that was why her next words came as such a shock to him.
“Believe me, I didn’t exactly want to come,” she stated flatly.
“Really?” Angel asked, startled by her revelation. “Why not?”
“Lots of reasons,” she replied softly, at last taking a step back from the vampire.
Angel felt strangely bereft without Willow’s comforting presence in his arms. Silently, he cursed himself for pushing the issue when his friend was clearly unwilling to delve any further into it. Hoping to put Willow more at ease, the vampire picked another, more neutral topic to discuss.
“So how is school going?”
“Good, actually,” Willow replied, obviously perking up over the new subject. “Graduation is coming up fast, though, so I’m really under the gun to get my thesis program finished.”
“What kind of program is it?” Angel inquired, honestly curious. Computers were a new hobby of his, thanks to Cordelia’s insistence that he ‘join the twentieth century before they got too far into in the twenty-first.’ Although he was not -- and probably never would be -- anyway near Willow’s level on the machines, he still enjoyed working on them.
“Officially, it’s a blueprint for a new kind of interactive database,” she said simply.
“And unofficially?” Angel inquired, picking up on Willow’s unspoken prompt.
“Unofficially?” Willow reiterated with a conspiratorial raise of an eyebrow. “Unofficially, it more than just design schematics. It’s an actual working prototype.”
“That’s great, Willow!” Angel enthused, but he could not understand why she seemed so secretive about her project. “So why aren’t you including the prototype in your thesis?”
“Actually, it’s not the model that’s the big deal, but the information I’ve put into the new database,” she teased.
“Well, don’t keep me waiting,” Angel prompted good-naturedly.
“I’ve started filling the d-base with all kinds of occult data -- and I mean *everything*, Angel. Spells, demons, individual vampires, major cult figures, Slayers; you name it, it could be in there. And it will all easily cross-reference. I mean, think about it. How much of our time on the Hellmouth was spent reading and researching over and over again through the same old books? This database could easily cut research time into a fraction of what it is now.”
It was impossible to misinterpret Willow’s enthusiasm for her pet project, and Angel was unable to prevent himself from sharing some of her infectious happiness. Nevertheless, the vampire still had some misgivings about the concept as a whole, particularly concerning the availability to such a powerful tool. If the database were to fall into the wrong hands, such an incredible fount of information could make a demon or vampire almost unbeatable. Rather than be the voice of doom, Angel decided to approach his friend in a more surreptitious manner.
“Who would have access to something like this? Would it be available on the net?”
“Are you insane?” Willow questioned, her eyes going wide. “Put...dangerous...information like this for every monster, vampire master, and general psycho who has access to a modem? You must be kidding.”
“No,” Angel back-pedaled. “I...I just wanted to make sure that you had thought this through.”
“Of course I thought it through,” Willow huffed, a tad bit offended by her friend’s lack of faith in her ethics. “And for your information, it wasn’t just me. The Watchers Council isn’t exactly...crazy about the idea, but Giles drummed up enough support to at least fund half my research grant.”
It seemed logical to Angel that the Watchers would, indeed, be greatly interested in such a project. Something else in Willow’s last statement, however, struck the vampire.
“What about the other half of your grant?” Angel asked. “Where did the rest of the money come from?”
“Believe it or not, the Salem Wicca Coven.”
“You’re in touch with the Salem Coven?” Angel asked, honestly impressed by the achievement. That particular group was the oldest, most prestigious coven in the entire country. Its members had collectively forgotten enough spells to fill a library the size of Giles’.
“Uh...I guess you could say that,” Willow hedged. “Actually, you could probably say that I’m one of their apprentices, which is a little closer to the truth.”
“You were asked to join the Salem Coven?” Because of their reputation, they were also one of the most exclusive when it came to offering the coveted apprenticeships that eventually led to full membership. “That’s great, Willow, but how…?”
“It was luck really, more than anything,” she explained. “I went into the magic shop near the campus, and the woman who runs it is a full-fledged member. She told me that my aura was really…strong, and that she could see that I had already been involved in some pretty…intense fights against evil. She brought me in front of the Old Mothers, and they offered me a full apprenticeship, but with school and everything else, I had to say no.”
“But you said…” Angel questioned, puzzled by Willow’s conflicting stories.
“Well,” Willow admitted sheepishly. “The Old Mothers said that I really needed formal training or it could be…dangerous for me.”
“They’re probably right,” the vampire admitted. That she was a natural adept was never in question. After all, how many times in the past had he either seen or benefited from the tremendous gift that Willow possessed? The spell she preformed to restore his soul was a perfect example. That she managed it at all was a miracle, especially given her medical condition – or so Cordelia told Angel a while ago. “You’ve got a real gift. You know that, don’t you, Willow? And with the proper training you’re only going to become more powerful.”
Embarrassed by the intensity of Angel’s words, Willow lapsed into silence. Not sure what else to talk about, the vampire also chose to remain quiet. Together, the pair stared out over the water, buffeted by the sounds of the waves rolling up on the beach.
“Listen,” Willow finally spoke, her hands betraying her restlessness. “Do you want to…take a walk or something?”
“Uh,” Angel stalled, not quite sure how to keep Willow from discovering the truth. “I’m uh…a little…tired. It’s been a long couple of days…you know?”
“Uh sure,” Willow began in an unconvinced tone. “I’m kinda tired, too, really. It’s a long flight from Boston to here. Actually, I think I’m gonna sit down for a while.” With that said, the redhead took a couple steps away from the water, heading for the dryer sand above the shoreline.
Another flash of panic overwhelmed the vampire as he watched her retreating form. Thanks to his injury, sitting was no longer a simple task, but rather a painful chore that usually required odd contortions and a small mountain of pillows. Yet, he could not remain standing. For one thing, Willow would most likely take such rudeness as a personal slight, which was the last thing he wanted to do. More importantly, however, was the plain fact that Angel’s leg was already shaking from overexertion. If he did not sit down soon, he was liable to fall down anyway.
Moving as quickly as his injury allowed, Angel attempted to cover as much ground as he could while Willow’s back was still toward him. The vampire almost made it when the redhead turned her head to look back in his direction. Hoping to divert her attention, Angel blurted out the first distraction that came to his mind.
“Look, a shooting star!” The vampire winced even as he spoke the words. ‘That was the *best* you could do?’
“Where?” Willow exclaimed, turning her head in the opposite direction in order to follow Angel’s line of sight.
Taking two last, limping steps, Angel reached his friend’s side. Unfortunately, Willow turned back around before he could attempt the lengthy process of actually sitting down. Stifling a curse, the vampire began mentally searching for another diversion.
“How’s Amy doing? Is she still living in the Valley?” Willow asked, politely waiting for Angel to take a seat before she did.
“Huh?” Angel muttered. Even after nine years of friendship, Willow’s non sequitors could still throw him for a loop.
“Oh, sorry,” the redhead apologize, realizing that she had gone off on a tangent. “I guess with seeing you again and all this talk about magic, I couldn’t help but think about the time Amy and I attached your soul to you permanently.”
“She’s fine,” Angel assured. “I’ve seen her a few times over the past couple of months.”
“Is she still helping you and Cordy out?”
“Yeah,” the vampire nodded. “She makes the drive over whenever we need help with the magic stuff. She’s gotten pretty powerful herself. I still can’t believe that you two managed that spell, by the way.”
“What?” Willow questioned, finally giving in and bending her knees in order to sink to the sand. “Making your soul permanent?”
“Yeah,” Angel sighed. Left with no other option, the vampire had no choice but to sit. Keeping his lame limb slightly forward, Angel bent the knee of his good leg and began lowering himself to the ground. Trying to keep up the appearance of normalcy, the vampire continued to speak as he moved. “It really was above both your levels at the time.”
“But as long as it worked, it was worth it,” Willow replied. Her voice was somewhat distracted. Despite his best efforts, Angel could feel Willow’s piercing green eyes trained on him, watching his contortionist act with a puzzled expression on her face. Nevertheless, Willow continued babbling on about his soul. “I mean, I was pretty sure that it worked...at the time. Then again, you would know for certain. I mean, I’m sure that you’ve tested it out by now...oh God! I can’t believe I just said that! It really isn’t....”
Her apology, however, was too late. Startled by Willow’s unintentional indelicacy, the vampire lost his balance about halfway through his sitting maneuver. Realizing that he was about to fall, Angel’s arms pinwheeled uselessly in the air.
“...any of my business...what you do, and I really didn’t...” Willow continued to babble on, seemingly unaware of the vampire’s impending fall.
Preparing his body for what he knew would be a jarring impact, Angel was startled when he suddenly felt Willow’s thin frame slip underneath one of his flailing arms. Before he knew what was happening, a deceptively slender arm wrapped itself around Angel’s waist. When that proved to be inadequate to restore the vampire’s footing, a tiny hand clasped the vampire’s wrist in an iron-tight grip. Once she managed to equally distributed Angel’s weight, Willow bent her knees, supporting her friend until he was safely seated on the sand. Most amazingly of all, to the vampire at any rate, was the fact that she never once stopped her charmingly long-winded apology.
“...I’m so sorry. Uh...okay, I’ll be quiet now...that I’ve probably managed to make an even bigger idiot out of myself,” Willow concluded as she sank down next to him in the sand.
‘What is she apologizing for?’ the vampire asked himself silently. So concerned was he over his own plight, he had lost track of what Willow was apologizing for. While mentally reviewing their prior conversation, Angel did his best to calm both his frazzled nerves and his overtaxed body.
Then it hit him.
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