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Part 2
“I didn’t think you’d come this early!” Giles said, not for the first time. Buffy was sitting now, at least. Sitting at the desk; Angel couldn’t go into the rest of the library, for there was light there. Daylight. He couldn’t go into daylight. He was, after all, a vampire. She had tried to forget that. Tried, and failed every time. How could she forget when he had . . . Better not to think of that.
“I woke up early and I couldn’t go to sleep,” Buffy said numbly. She found something incredibly interesting about the carpet. She really ought to have noticed it before . . .
“I wouldn’t have been here. I promise,” Angel said. She almost looked up; stopped herself. She loved his voice so. It was so beautiful.
“I know,” she said quietly. But he was there, and now that she had seen him all she wanted was to look at him forever. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t let herself love him again, even though she still did.
There was a long silence, so long, and finally Giles broke it.
“I asked you to come because Angel brought some rather . . . disturbing news,” he said. Buffy looked up, but made sure that she only looked at Giles.
“Tell,” she said calmly. Out of the very corner of her eyes she could just make out Angel’s mouth curving in a smile at her old expression. His mouth . . . No, she would NOT think of that.
“W-well it seems that there is . . . well, a new vampire in town, as you might say. Another one that is,” Giles said, casting a strange look at Angel. Buffy kept her eyes fixed on the Watcher, who was busily polishing his glasses.
“All right. I can handle vampires. I’ve done it before,” Buffy assured him. Giles blinked at her, then shook his head.
“I’m afraid it’s not quite so-so simple. This is not . . . not an ordinary vampire. It’s a Master, I’m afraid,” Giles informed her. Buffy took the news calmly. She had handled Masters before, she could do it again. She told Giles so.
“I got rid of the Master before, didn’t I? And Spike and Drusilla, and Nazeth, who was worse,” Buffy pointed out.
“You fought Nazeth?” Angel asked, obviously suprised and impressed. Buffy tried not to look straight at him when answering. Tried very hard in fact.
“And won, yes,” she said. “After . . . well after you left. After Spike and Drusilla as well.”
“I knew you beat them,” he said. She looked back at Giles.
“Even Angel is impressed by the fact I beat Nazeth. Which means I can handle this new guy. So bring him on,” Buffy said. A fight would be welcome right about now. It would get her mind away from . . . from other things.
“I-it-she I mean, is female,” Giles corrected absentmindedly. Buffy shrugged.
“Okay. So females are usually a little more malicious, but I’m good at cat fights,” she said, sure she was missing something here. Both Giles and Angel (though she wouldn’t look directly at him), had very serious expressions on their faces. “Okay, so it was a bad joke. What’s going on here?” she demanded.
“Angel better tell you. H-he knows the story rather better, I’m afraid,” Giles said. Buffy sighed. So this wasn’t going to be easy (finding out what was going on, that was). She could handle listening to his voice for a few minutes. Probably. Buffy looked over at Angel, not meeting his eyes, but looking at him. He looked exactly the same as always. Of course. He was even dressed the same. Black slacks, a white shirt and a black jacket. Well, why not? Something like that never went out of style. And he still looked about twenty five. Certainly no older. He was in his 250’s now.
“Well, go on,” she prompted. She had to concentrate right now. she told herself. It didn’t really help.
“Annwyl—that is her name, though it is not used much anymore—was born in the late middle ages, in Wales. She was raised in a secret pocket of the old religion—they still worshipped the old gods. She had a special power. She was called a Seer—that is, she saw the future as it could happen in visions. It used to be a common gift, but it is hardly ever found anymore, not the true gift. As a Seer, she had more than the ordinary amount of power, but it was not enough. When she was sixteen a vampire attacked her and turned her into a vampire.
“Annwyl had been a very good person before, and she had been in love with a young man named Dafydd. The power that she had as a Seer somehow allowed her to still love him, even though the demon had taken over the rest of her totally. Unbeknownst to the vampire that made her she went back to her old home to see Dafydd. Unfortunately (and you will see why in a moment), the current Slayer was waiting for her.
“Annwyl found Dafydd and was talking to him in her human form, but the Slayer found them. Annwyl showed her true face and Dafydd was frightened. The Slayer and Annwyl fought and Annwyl was almost defeated. Before she was though, she accidentally pushed Dafydd in front of the Slayer, who killed him by accident. Annwyl went crazy. Deep in her heart she still loved the young man. Her rage, combined with the power she still retained from life and her newfound power made her very powerful, and she killed the Slayer. But she didn’t kill her in the usual way. She drank her blood until she was dead, thereby gaining most of the Slayer’s inherent power as well.
“Since then she has been traveling the world, intent on getting revenge on all Slayer’s for what that one Slayer did accidentally. She has killed six Slayers Buffy. Six slayers—and she drank the blood of each and every one. That means her original power plus that of six slayers. And she’s one of the oldest vampires alive. The only reason she didn’t come here sooner was that the last Slayer she fought was just strong enough to weaken her, though she couldn’t kill Annwyl. But that was a long time ago. Annwyl had been hoarding her strength, and she is very powerful now. More powerful than you can imagine,” Angel finished softly. Buffy was silent. Six Slayers? The most any other vampire she knew of had killed was three. Six against three? Annwyl had killed twice as many as Nazeth, and Buffy had barely survived the fight with him, though she wasn’t about to tell Angel that. Giles knew though, and she could feel his worried gaze on her. She wasn’t at her best either, she knew that. It had been a long time since she’d had any real challenge, and she was older now. Slower.
“So what do we do?” Buffy asked finally, looking to Giles.
“I’m not quite sure. Not yet, anyway,” he revised hastily, “If we can’t find anything you and Angel will have to . . . well fight her together, though that is only if we have no other options.” Buffy glanced over at the only vampire in the world with a soul. He could fight, she knew that. He was as powerful as Buffy. But could they fight together? They’d never tried it against one opponent. And the last time they’d fought anything together had been fifteen years ago. That was a long time. Buffy was used to flying solo.
“Well, you really should keep looking. She must have some weakness. When will she attack? That is, I assume she will,” Buffy said. Angel nodded.
“She’ll attack all right. Probably on Friday night. Friday is Saint Kazarth’s Day,” Angel said. Buffy nodded.
“Powerful vamp. Killed three hundred people in one night. At a party,” Buffy recalled. Giles looked at her with suprise.
“H-how did you know that?” he asked. She gave him a little smile. “It comes around every year remember? Fifteen years. I think I’ve heard the spiel enough to remember it for once,” Buffy explained. His eyebrows drew together, then he nodded.
“Of course. That give us three days. I hope you don’t insist on going to all your . . . your classes?” Giles asked, as always disapproving of the fact that Buffy liked to have something of a life at least. Buffy thought about it. She had fitness in a few hours—a bunch of twenty something year olds to middle-aged women who kept in shape with step aerobics. Buffy wasn’t even breathing hard by the end of that particular class. That afternoon she had beginning hand-to-hand combat.
“I could skip today I suppose, and probably Friday too. It depends if I can get a sub. Let me make a few calls,” Buffy said. Giles looked over at the phone pointedly when she remained in her seat. She sighed and rolled her eyes.
“Giles, it’s about 7:00 in the morning. I meant make a few calls LATER,” she said. He looked startled and took off his glasses to polish them again.
“Oh. Of course,” he said.
“Don’t you have some things to look up?” Buffy asked pointedly a moment later, when he just stood there. He startled.
“O-of course. I trust you’ll be all right without me?” he asked. Buffy nodded.
“I’ll be fine Giles,” she said, wondering if she spoke the truth or not. He nodded and left the room, closing the door behind him quickly, before any light could come inside. There was a long silence as they both looked everywhere but at each other.
“Classes?” Angel asked finally. “You can’t tell me you still haven’t passed out of school?” Buffy smiled despite herself. It had been a close thing, but she had passed, and without TOO much trouble.
“No. I teach. Don’t give me that look! I’m not that stupid! But you’re right, I don’t teach at school. I teach hand to hand combat and . . . fitness,” Buffy explained.
“Fitness?” Angel asked.
“Fitness,” Buffy repeated firmly, “You want to make somethin’ of it?” He smiled.
“Not at all,” he said, then paused a moment. “Step aerobics?” he asked. Buffy nodded.
“ ‘Fraid so,” she laughed . “Hey, I have to eat!”
“I didn’t say anything,” he said, holding up his hands. There was another long silence. Buffy didn’t know what there was to say. She couldn’t bring up what had happened, not yet. She had just seen him. Once again, he broke the silence.
“So where is everyone these days? I don’t see your loyal Slayerettes anywhere,” Angel remarked. Buffy nodded, glad for the distraction.
“Let’s see. Cordelia’s in L.A., reaping the benefits of her very lucrative film career. You’ve probably seen her in something?”
“Never miss a Cordy movie,” Angel said. Buffy smiled a little, then continued.
“She just got married again. I think it’s her fourth husband this time . . . maybe only third. He’s a producer.” Cordelia had confided to her once, in a rare moment of intimacy, that “none of them are Xander, after all,” but Buffy certainly wasn’t going to say that now, not to him, not after so long. Not yet anyway.
“Willow’s in Seattle now,” Buffy went on. “She started her own computer business, Internet stuff mostly . . . I think.” Angel smiled and Buffy kept going. “She’s married to a really nice guy named David. He’s very sober, doesn’t joke much, but he’s a good man. Not at all like . . .” Buffy trailed off, then stopped. “She has two kids, a girl and a boy. They’re six and eight respectively.”
“What about Oz?” Angel asked.
“I almost forgot Oz! Well, his band hit it big a while ago. They’re still really popular. I think he’s touring right now. He has a girlfriend—I heard she’s a shy red head. Not suprising,” Buffy said.
“What happened to him and Willow? I thought they were a couple,” Angel asked. Buffy nodded, then sighed.
“They were. Willow took . . . everything . . . really hard. A little too hard, Oz thought. She sort of withdrew, at least from him. She spent more time on the Internet and stuff. They officially stayed together until we graduated, but it was over long before that. But when Will went off to college . . . well, it was pretty obvious that it was over. And she met David. They’re still in touch sometimes, but he’s so busy with his band, and she has her business and family . . .” Buffy trailed off. The silence was suffocating. Now he knew all about the last fifteen years, what else was there to ask? Well, not all, she realized.
“Are you married?” he asked. Buffy looked up, startled that he would even ask and shook her head in the negative.
“I haven’t even gone on a date in . . . oh I don’t know how long,” Buffy said, sighing. She couldn’t tell what the look on his face meant. Was it relief? Or unhappiness? She used to be able to read his face like a book (except that Buffy wasn’t exactly the best reader in the world . . .). Still, she had always known what he was thinking (okay, there had been moments when he got his Cryptic Guy thing going, but those had gotten fewer the longer she knew him).
“You really would have gone without seeing me?” she asked finally, the words torn out of her in a cry. And then they were both out of their chairs and he had crossed the room and was holding her, holding her so tightly.
For the first time in fifteen years, Buffy felt like she was home.
She breathed in deeply, savoring the smell of him, that familiar scent that was Angel. And his arms around her . . . so warm and strong and comforting. She could stay here forever, just being held by him.
Except that what had happened had happened and there was no going back. He was who he was and she was who she was, and she couldn’t let herself go again.
She pushed away gently and he released her. She turned away from him, letting her hair fall forward to hide her face.
“You can’t forgive? Even now?” he asked, his voice raw and harsh. She closed her eyes and clenched her hands into fists to keep them from reaching out to him and soothing the pain from his voice.
“I don’t know. I want to, I want to so much. But I don’t know. And there is more to it than that. Fifteen years is nothing to you, I know that, but to me it is a very long time. I have changed. I have grown older. Look at me. I’m not a girl anymore. And I’m going to keep getting older. I’ll get gray hair, and my waist will thicken. When I’m old and bent over and frail, will you still love me? I can’t ask you for that. I used to be able to pretend it wouldn’t happen. When you’re a teenager you can forget that there’s anything else to life. But I can’t forget anymore. There IS more to life, and I’ve lived part of it. But you . . . you haven’t. You’re still exactly the same as you always were. You’ll always be the same. You can’t change. You’re a vampire. What are you now? Two hundred and fifty six? You—” Buffy was cut off, and Angel grabbed her arm and turned her to face him.
“Stop. You know I’ll always love you, no matter what. You know it,” Angel whispered, finally catching her eyes with his own. They were so black. So black and full of sorrow and guilt and self-hatred. Full of love too. Buffy could see it there, as strong as it had always been. She realized suddenly that it had never been his face she could read, but his eyes.
“I love you,” Angel repeated, very softly. How she had longed to hear those words once, and perhaps she still did now. Buffy felt the tears escaping, running down her cheeks. She didn’t lift a hand to brush them away, but he did. So very softly, he wiped her cheeks were the salty tears had traveled. One escaped him and reached her mouth. She licked it away, her eyes never leaving his. Very slowly he leaned forward and kissed her, hesitantly at first, and softly, then, when she did not protest or move away, he deepened the kiss.
Buffy kissed him back, drinking in his mouth as if she was a dying woman in a desert and he was an oasis pool. It had been so long . . . She had dated some after he left, but it had never been serious and the kisses had never been like this. Angel was the only one who could make her knees weak with just a kiss. Like he was doing now. One of his strong arms came behind her and held her up.
When they finally broke apart it was only a few centimeters. Buffy stood looking up at him, unsure of herself, for once. They just stood, looking at each other, for a long time. Angel kissed her again. Buffy laid her head against his chest and closed her eyes. She loved him so much. And he loved her, he had told her so. But there was still the past between them, and Xander, and age.
They finally broke apart, Buffy sighing and looking at the books on the desk.
“We should probably get to work,” she said. “It’s not fair for Giles to do all the research.”
“You’re right, we should get some work done,” Angel agreed in a strange voice. Buffy sat down and picked up a book, but immediately looked back at Angel. He was pulling his chair over to the desk to join her.
“Angel?” she said. He looked at her with a question in his eyes. “I love you too,” she said. His eyes
told her that he knew. But he was glad she had told him anyway. He sat down to work. There was,
after all, a vampire to kill.