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Disclaimer:I don't own any of the characters in this story...they
belong to Joss Whedon, the WB, Mutant Enemy, Fox, etc.
Author's Notes: This is a sequel to my story "Forever" but you don't
HAVE to read that one first. This one takes place eight years later, so
they're not extremely connected. Basically, Angel came back from Hell in
only a few days, he and Buffy got back together in L.A. and then moved
back to Sunnydale. Besides that, I have to warn you that if you're in a
really happy mood, you might not want to read this. It's kinda sad.
Could be very sad . . . unless you happen to hate Buffy and all her
friends, but somehow, I doubt you'd be reading this if that were the
case. I LOVE feedback, pleeeeeeease e-mail me!
Part 1
“Okay, I’m going to have to give you an ‘F’ on, y’ know . . . ability. . . though with a little hard work you could get a solid ‘D’ in determination to try stupid moves even though you’re basically dead already,” Buffy said, punching the vampire and knocking him down. She pulled a stake out of her wrist sheathe and yawned, tapping her foot and waiting for him to stand up again. Finally she shrugged and staked him, impatient to be done for the night.
Buffy stumbled suddenly, as if she’d been hit, but there was no one else in the graveyard. Her heart was racing and she was breathing hard as if she’d just had a difficult fight, though she’d basically won just by being there. He hadn’t even touched her, and she certainly hadn’t exerted herself. But she felt like she had.
“Hey, you okay?” a familiar voice asked. Buffy turned and smiled despite herself.
“Fine. It was a hard fight,” she lied. She didn’t need Angel worrying about her–everyone else, especially Giles, already did.
“It’s getting late . . . or early. There won’t be anymore tonight. Let’s go home,” he said. Buffy nodded agreement and took his hand.
“With pleasure,” she said. They walked along in silence, happy in each others’ company. Eight years . . . well, nine if you counted from the very beginning. Eight plus years then and she was still happy just being near him. Though other things were nice as well.
“How was your day?” he asked.
“All right. I had a new kid, this boy . . . he was pretty hostile. Corie came in though, and I’m definitely making progress with her. And you?” Buffy asked.
“I got a couple chapters done. Your mom called at sunset and I went to look at a new shipment from Japan.” Buffy smiled. It had taken Joyce a long time to accept Angel . . . which wasn’t suprising, considering everything that had happened and what he was, but she had come around, and now he couldn’t ask for a better mother-in-law. Joyce doted on him.
“I’m glad,” Buffy said. They walked in silence for a while, and when they reached their door both went for their keys. Buffy stopped, smiling, and Angel unlocked the door, gesturing her inside. She switched on a light and hung up her purse and jacket.
“You want some tea or something?” Angel asked.
“No, I’m pretty tired,” Buffy answered. He came up behind her and slid his arms around her waist.
“Tired?” he asked, bending to kiss her neck. She smiled and pulled his arms tighter around her.
“Not that tired,” she replied, turning all the way in his arms. She lifted her face for his kiss.
“Bed?” he asked.
“Definitely,” she said into his mouth. In one movement he scooped her into his arms and carried her into their bedroom.
“I love Willow,” Buffy murmured quite a bit later. They were lying in bed, arms and legs entwined.
“Really? Is this supposed to tell me something?” Angel asked. Buffy laughed and lightly slapped his arm.
“You know what I mean. If not for her . . .” she trailed off, and he finished for her.
“I might as well have signed up for priesthood.”
“Exactly,” Buffy said. “Except for the fact you’d have to wear crosses and you know . . . the church might not your little habit of drinking blood, but . . . well, I just feel exceedingly grateful to Willow at this moment.”
“So do I. Exceedingly grateful.” Buffy yawned and snuggled closer to him, burying her face in his shoulder.
“And exceedingly tired,” she said.
“Well maybe you are,” he answered. She giggled.
“It’s almost four. You must be a little sleepy.”
“Not especially. But I want to fall asleep with you. Remember? I promised.” And so he had. And so she had.
“Goodnight lover,” Buffy murmured, already beginning to drift off.
“Sleep well,” Angel said. “I love you.” But she was already asleep. *She knows,* he told himself, trying to still the fear that he still felt at times. Fear that she wouldn’t know and something would happen. But nothing would happen to her now anyway. She was safe. He would take care of her–she who never needed taking care of.
“I love you,” he said again, then fell into sleep, completely happy and in no danger of losing his soul.
“Hey Will! You here?” Buffy asked, peeking her head in Willow’s door.
“In the office,” Willow called. Buffy closed the door behind her and went into the tiny office. Willow turned from the computer to look at her and smiled a little. Buffy managed to smile back, even as she tried not to wince from the still visible bruise across Willow’s face. At least it was almost gone, and there would definitely not be any more. Buffy had made sure of that.
“Just thought I’d stop by and see how you’re doing!” Buffy said cheerfully, before her tone turned apologetic. “I’m sorry I didn’t come by last night.”
“It’s all right. Angel stopped by on his way to the gallery and Xander called every twenty minutes to make sure I was fine. I think Cordy’s getting jealous. She kept sniping at him about using the customer phone, even though she always does. Whenever he was out though, she’d call me herself, so I’m not too worried about our friendship. Anyway, I think Jon was discouraged when he realized he couldn’t get in.”
“Don’t ya just love witchcraft?” Buffy asked happily. Willow smiled, then looked down.
“I . . . I think it’s getting better Buffy. Easier, and better,” she said softly. Buffy knelt beside her friend so she could see her bruised face.
“Good. I’m glad. And I swear Willow, he will never touch you again. Ever,” Buffy said seriously.
“I know. Thank you.”
“What are friends for? Besides, I am the Slayer, and if someone who does that isn’t a monster, I don’t know what or who is!” Willow touched the bruise that Buffy had indicated. It was only one of the many her husband had inflicted on her. Her ex-husband. The divorce had gone through the week before. Most of the bruises were gone now, but that one–the one that had told them all the truth, the last one–had only faded to a mottled yellow.
“You’re right of course,” Willow said. Buffy made a face.
“I came to make you feel better, not worse. I brought brownies!” Buffy exclaimed. Willow smiled reluctantly.
“I have milk in the fridge,” she ventured. Buffy grinned.
“Now that’s the spirit! Come on, I don’t have anything until one-thirty. Brownie fest!” Willow laughed. Buffy reveled in the sound. It had been a long time since Willow had laughed.
Buffy lunged . . . too hard; she fell forward. She landed on her hands and slapped the library floor in annoyance before pushing herself up.
“Are you quite all right Buffy?” Giles asked. They were in the middle of one of their practice sessions and Buffy had been noticeably off the whole time. She grimaced in reply to his question, standing up slowly.
“I’ve been pretty tired,” she said.
“You should get more sleep,” he said reprimandingly.
“I’ll try, I–” Suddenly she stopped and swayed.
“What’s the matter?” Giles asked. Buffy put a hand to her head. She noticed a spot of blood on the carpet. Her nose was bleeding.
“Your nose–” Giles began. Buffy put her hand up to stop the drip and ran for a kleenex.
“That’s funny. I never get nose bleeds,” she said when she had the bleeding controlled and her head tilted back to try and stop it.
“Well that has r-rather obviously changed,” Giles said, worry clear in his voice.
“I’m sure it’s nothing. There’s a first time for everything, after all,” Buffy pointed out. She sat down carefully, her head still tilted back.
“Yes, yes, of course. Still, maybe you should see a doctor,” Giles suggested. Buffy grimaced, careful not to move her nose.
“All right. But no hospitals.”
“No hospitals,” he agreed.
“Since practicing does not seem to be the order of the day today, what else is going on?” Buffy asked. Giles blinked in suprise.
“Wh-what?”
“I asked what was going on. Y’ know, any vampire holidays approaching, any evil prophecies about to come to pass? Stuff like that,” she said.
“A-all seems rather calm,” Giles said, still suprised at her questions. Buffy sighed.
“I have grown up a little Giles. You can tell me things. I’ll understand. And you don’t get to do that sigh-thing and say ‘teenagers’ in that voice. We’re not teenagers anymore. I can vote, and drink, and I’m married for goodness sake! I have a job. A real job. I help people. I work. Come on, Giles, the least you can do is nod your head. I have been talking for several minutes,” Buffy pointed out. Her Watcher was staring off into space, a strange look on his face. “Giles?” Buffy ventured.
“Wh-what?” he asked, starting and looking at her. Buffy sighed.
“Nothing ever changes around here,” she remarked.
“Hmm?” he said.
“Nothing. What were you thinking about?”
“I was just thinking about what I learned of Slayers,” Giles said thoughtfully.
“There’s only one?” Buffy ventured.
“Well, y-yes, but I was thinking more along the lines of health,” he said, taking off his glasses.
“Well? Do share,” Buffy said. Giles’ brow creased.
“I seem to remember that as well as being much stronger than an ordinary mortal, Slayers are much less susceptible to illness.”
“Well I don’t ever get sick,” Buffy ventured. “I had perfect attendance in school . . . except for, you know the skipping, and I did have fever that once.”
“Yes, of course. I also seem to remember that when Slayers do exhibit signs of illness it is more serious than it immediately seems, as they are so much stronger than normal people,” Giles said. Buffy lowered her head carefully and took away the kleenex. She was relieved to feel that the bleeding had stopped, even if there was an alarming amount of blood on the tissues.
“You just had to twist my words around, didn’t you?” she asked, but
obediently went to call. Giles merely smiled.