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Part 3
Buffy stepped off the plane in Constanta, a city about two hours away from the town they were headed to. She wasn’t even about to try and say its name. She looked around uncertainly, not sure what to expect. She saw the Black Sea glittering in the distance and pulled her sunglasses out of her bag. The others followed Giles into the airport, carrying their assorted bags. Angel reached out and took Buffy’s hand, pulling her closer to him and giving her forehead a soft kiss. She smiled at him and pulled him so they caught up with everyone else. They walked to the rental car place and Giles and the woman behind the counter engaged in a conversation in a language Buffy had never heard of before.
“How many languages does he speak?” Buffy whispered to Angel, who gave her a smile and a quick kiss. She stood and watched her Watcher, a feeling of pride swelling in her.
Giles turned after getting two sets of keys from the woman. “We have two cars. Katrina and I are the two registered to drive them. We must go retrieve them and check into immigrations and go through customs,” he said, leading the way. Katrina passed out their fake passports and they practiced talking with a British accent on the way. Their suitcases were searched at customs, the guards gave them strange looks at the number of stakes they had with them. Buffy had brought along her crossbow also, and that raised a lot of questions.
After a little persuasion from Giles, they were on their way to the cars. It was decided that Buffy, Angel, and Xander would go with Giles and Willow, Oz, and Cordelia would go with Katrina. Buffy stared out the window as they drove through the city, taking in everything. She pulled out her camera a few times to take pictures, while Xander, in the front seat, would tease her about it.
The trip to the town was uneventful, Buffy and Angel cuddling in the backseat and Xander constantly flipping through the radio stations in search of some music. The only thing he could get was some classical and Giles insisted they keep it on.
“Giles, do we have rooms somewhere or something?” Buffy asked as they drove through the countryside. They were headed south along the coast. Giles glanced briefly at her in the rear view mirror before turning his attention back to the road.
“The Council said they had made arrangements for us to stay at an inn. There are four rooms reserved. That’s everything they told me, besides its location,” Giles replied.
“Okay, and do we know the location of this person we’re supposed to contact?” Buffy asked, leaning into Angel’s arms and closing her eyes.
“No...I’m afraid we must look her up on our own.”
“Oh, okay. Wake me when we get there,” Buffy said quietly as she allowed herself to fall asleep.
Minutes, or what could have been hours, after she fell asleep, a bright light flashed around her. She saw an older woman arguing with Giles...a group discussing things around a large table...Leonna, Spike, and Drusilla...the battle ahead, her friends battered and bloody. These images swirled around her mind mixed with brilliant shades of red and yellow. She was tossing and turning, trying to escape the pictures that were plaguing her. The world around her began to shake.
“Buffy...Buff...sweetie, wake up,” she heard through a haze. Angel’s voice, calling her. Rescuing her. With a start she woke up and glanced around wildly. They had stopped and Xander, Giles, and Angel were looking at her worriedly. She ran a hand through her hair and sat up.
“Whoa, talk about a nightmare,” she said. “I’m fine, guys. Really.”
“What were you dreaming about? Do you think it was prophetic?” Giles asked eagerly.
“Yeah. I saw Leonna, Spike, and Dru doing God knows what, you and this woman at each other’s throat, figuratively speaking of course, a bunch of people. It was kind of chaotic,” she replied. Buffy looked out the window and saw that they had pulled up to a simple looking house with a sign out front in a language Buffy didn’t know. “This is it?”
“Hmm? Oh, yes, this is the place we will be staying. We must check in and then find this woman we are supposed to contact. Her name is Ireena,” Giles said as he stepped out of the car and glanced around. Farmland stretched on for miles. The inn was located on a hill and in the valley below was nestled a small village. Giles felt uncomfortable here, in Jenny’s homeland. A sharp knife cut through his heart as he thought of her, but he put his feelings aside to be dealt with later. He turned to see the other car pulling into the driveway.
Cordelia was the first one out, not even waiting for the car to stop as she hopped out. “Giles, I need a bathroom,” she said, leaning from foot to foot to emphasize her point. Angel began unloading the suitcases from the trunk and Oz followed his lead, unloading the other car. The others collected their bags and made their way into the foyer of the huge house. Cordelia wrinkled her nose in distaste, it was a very simple and rather plain looking inn. The foyer lead into a living room and there was a closed door on one side. A staircase was in a corner of the room.
Katrina and Giles approached the desk, where an old woman sat knitting.
“Ah, you must be Watcher,” the old woman said in heavily-accented English. The others strained to understand her. Giles nodded.
“Yes, I understand reservations have been made?” he said calmly, growing more and more uncomfortable by the minute. It was almost as if he could feel her in this old house, sense her on the stairs. He turned slightly and was greeted by nothing.
“Yes. You loved my Janna, did you not? I can feel it...she would not want you to be sad,” the old woman said wisely before writing something down. She looked up suddenly and focused on Angel. Buffy moved closer to her boyfriend protectively. “Janna does not blame you, old one. You have suffered much and deserve all the happiness you now receive.”
Angel stiffened, flooded by memories of Angelus snapping Jenny’s neck as if it was nothing more than a twig. He had known that he would experience this when he came, knew that these people hated him with an intense passion. Yet the woman’s kind words gave him strength to fight off the guilt and he felt a strange peace replace the horrible memories. He smiled slightly at her as Buffy squeezed his hand.
“Come, come, I show you your rooms.”
They followed the woman up the stairs, passing closed doors as they went. Turning down another corridor, they arrived at their rooms. “If you are hungry, come to kitchen and I make you something to eat,” the old woman said in her broken English before disappearing the same way she had come. Two small children appeared in the hallway and looked at the group. They whispered and ran the other way.
“Okay, so what’s the room situation?” Buffy asked once they were alone.
“We have four rooms. There is a room with one bed and three rooms with two. Since Buffy and Angel have...shared the same room before, I feel they should get the one-bed room,” Giles said, pausing uncomfortably.
“What makes you think Xander and I haven’t ‘shared a room’ before,” Cordelia asked. The others raised their eyebrows at her. “I’m not saying we have or anything, it’s just that you shouldn’t make those kind of assumptions.”
“Katrina and I will share another room, and you four may room however you like. I hope I do not have to remind you that...certain behaviors are not appropriate here. This is a different culture from our own, and we need not offend these kind people,” Giles said, again pausing uncomfortably. The others eyed him.
“Try to keep your hormones in check,” Katrina said politely. The gang laughed and went into their respective rooms. Xander and Oz were going to room together and Cordelia and Willow would share the last room.
Buffy and Angel walked quietly into their room. It was a quaint little place, a queen-size bed against one wall with a night stand next to it. There was a bureau with a vase of flowers and a pitcher for water on top of it and a mirror hanging on the wall. Two chairs sat on the far wall, separated by a big window.
“Cozy,” she commented as they placed their bags on the floor next to the bed.
“You’re okay with this, right? I mean, if we’re going too fast or if you feel uncomfortable with anything, you’d tell me, right?” Angel asked uncertainly, glancing at his girlfriend. She looked back at him and smiled slightly. He looked closely at her and saw the light circles around her eyes and the haggard look on her face. “Pretending takes a lot out of you, huh?” he asked quietly.
She gave a humorless laugh. Buffy stepped over to Angel, pulling him into an intense hug. “Thank you. For being here for me,” she whispered into his ear, holding him close to her.
He pulled back, gazing intently at her, searching her eyes. She gave him a small smile and leaned up for a gentle kiss. “And yes, I’m perfectly fine with sharing a bed with you. It’s not like you hog the covers or anything!” she laughed. He joined her and kissed her again.
She walked over to the window and gazed out. Below she saw a garden with a young woman working in it. The breeze coming through the open window caused the curtains to rise and fall steadily, almost as if they were dancing. They wrapped Buffy up and allowed her to forget everything for the time being, letting her focus on the beauty of the countryside. She heard Angel rummaging around and turned to face him. She grinned when she saw him unpacking both suitcases and placing the clothes in the bureau.
She walked over to the adjourning bathroom, which had an old-fashioned bathtub in it. Her breath caught at the simple beauty of it. A pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist and she leaned into them before turning to face Angel.
“We should probably get freshened up and go find this Ireena person, right?” she asked, sighing slightly. All she wanted to do was fall asleep in Angel’s arms. He nodded.
“Have to look presentable,” he agreed, going over to the dresser and
pulling out a cleanly-pressed white shirt and a pair of dark slacks.
Buffy sorted through the clothes she had brought, looking for a nice outfit
to put on. “Ready?” she asked. Angel nodded, pulling a brush through his
hair. They walked out of their room to find the hall empty and a
conversation going on in Willow and Cordelia’s room.
“So Willow, how come you never wear anything designer?” Cordelia asked as
she unpacked her suitcase, pulling out a variety of stylish clothes.
Willow glanced up, feeling somewhat ashamed as she pulled out her own plain
clothing. She shrugged.
“Designer doesn’t look good on me,” Willow replied. She wasn’t
lying, either. She had tried on some of those trendy clothes at the
mall a couple of weeks ago and they were all wrong for her.
“Well, you have to get the colors right and stuff. Tell you
what. When we get back to Sunnydale, we’ll go shopping. You and
me. And Buffy too, the girl is in some desperate need of new clothing,”
Cordelia said, turning to Willow as she spoke. Willow looked up,
surprised.
“What’s with you, Cordy? The altitude affecting you or
something? Remember, you *don’t* like me,” Willow said, in
shock. Cordelia sighed, plopping down on one of the beds.
“Willow, if I tell you something do you swear you won’t tell anyone else?”
Cordelia asked. Willow nodded, noticing the change of her tone.
She sat down on the bed next to Cordelia and waited.
“Okay, here’s the thing. My friends, or I guess followers is a
better term, treat me as if I’m some sort of goddess or something. They
nod and they agree and they copy. But they never tried to get to know
the real me, you know? It was always just ‘oh, Cordelia’s rich and
she’s pretty and she’s got cool clothes, so we can be her friend.’ They
can be such airheads sometimes,” she paused glancing down at her hands and
swallowing. Here came the hard part. She hated admitting it to
herself, telling someone else was going to be hell. But she didn’t want
to lie anymore, make them think she didn’t appreciate and like them.
“But you guys...you accepted me. You weren’t always asking what the
color of the minute was or if I had gotten the latest issue of Cosmo or
whatever. You were actually doing important stuff, like saving the
world. And...you reminded me there is more to life than boys and
shopping and stuff. What they are exactly, I don’t know,” she said,
half-smiling. Willow gazed at her, shocked beyond words that Cordelia
Chase was sitting spilling everything to her, Willow Nobody-Notices-Me
Rosenberg.
“So thanks. And I want to be your friend. You are in desperate
need of some fashion advice,” she joked, ending her little speech. She
glanced up at Willow, not sure what to expect. Willow was looking at
her, surprise on her face. Not that Cordelia blamed her or anything,
what she had just said was a shocker.
“Wow. I don’t know what to say,” Willow said softly. Cordelia gave
her a brief smile.
“I figured on that. Just don’t say anything, okay?” Cordelia asked,
rising and going over to the mirror in their room to inspect her hair and
makeup. She pulled out her blush from her makeup bag and applied some
before facing Willow again. “Shall we?” she gestured to the door.
Willow nodded and stood.
“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” Willow said as the two girls
left their room. They found Angel, Buffy, Oz, and Xander sitting in the
hall engaged in a quiet conversation. They looked up and smiled at the
two girls, Angel and Buffy exchanging secret looks.
“Where are Giles and Katrina?” Willow asked.
“They just finished unpacking and went down to talk to that old lady about
where we can find this person,” Xander said.
“Let’s go,” Buffy stood and offered Angel her hand, eager for this to get
underway. They ran into Giles and Katrina on the way down the stairs
and the eight of them piled into the cars, on their way to meet the person
who was supposedly able to help them.