Chapter 17
"Doesn't it ever rain in this bloody country?"
"Will you shut up about the sodding weather! For fuck's sake, Ryan, you've
been banging on about it ever since we arrived!"
"Don't tell me you're not bored with sun, sun and more bloody sun?"
"Of course I'm bored with it, we're all bored with it, we just don't feel
the need to whinge about it every five minutes!"
"Touchy."
"That's it, I'm switching shifts."
"Hang on, I see something... Slayer Two and the kid approaching the house,
on foot." "No sign of Slayer One or the car?"
"Nope. Wonder where she's got to."
"Do you think they're going to get back together?" Dawn asked, breaking
a silence that had endured since she and Faith left the Magic Box. She
opened the door of the house and went inside.
"Don't know, I guess so." Faith answered, following her. "I mean, it's
Buffy and Angel, right? The great tragic romance thing. They'll probably
make it way more complicated than it needs to be, but yeah, I think they
still love each other, so why not?"
"Yeah, I guess." Dawn didn't sound particularly enthusiastic about the
idea.
"You okay with all this, Bitesize?" Faith asked, her own thoughts on the
subject pushed aside by the melancholy tone she heard in Dawn's voice.
"Yeah, I'm..." Dawn began, only to break off as she saw the concerned
look on Faith's face. "I don't know. I just... I keep remembering all
the Angel trauma from last time around. I don't want to see Buffy go through
all that again."
"Well, maybe it won't be like that this time. The whole vamp thing's old
news, and it's not like he'll be going evil again, so maybe they'll just
be happy together?" Why don't I feel good about that?
"Maybe."
"Okay, Bitesize, come on, spill it."
"Spill what?"
"Whatever it is that's bugging you."
"It's nothing, it's stupid... Angel's in L.A., Buffy's here. You know
what they say about long distance relationships, and that's for normal
people, how'll they-"
"Oh ,Dawnie! B's not going to run out on you, no way!" Faith hugged her.
"You thought she was going to run off to L.A. to live with him?"
"Maybe, I don't know..." Dawn said, her eyes tearing up. "I'm scared of
losing her, Faith."
"Not going to happen, Bitesize. This is Buffy we're talking about, remember?
No was she's going to take off like that."
"She did it before."
"That was different, it was..."
"It was about Angel."
"Okay, yeah, but..." Faith paused. "Look, Dawn, people change, okay? B's
not going to just walk away from Sunnydale, and she's not going to leave
you on your own, right?"
"Okay."
"Good. Look, I've got to go patrol, you okay fixing some pizza for yourself?"
"Yeah, but what about you?"
"I'll hit the DMP later. Don't stay up too long, okay?"
Buffy barely remembered to turn off the engine before she
sprang out of the Jeep. She'd spent more than twenty minutes trying to
find the Hyperion, her nerves fraying more with every passing moment.
It had seemed that she could hear a clock ticking away in her head, counting
off the seconds as they slipped by, lost forever. Now, as she pushed open
the hotel door, she was suddenly apprehensive.
Cordelia was sitting at the reception counter, filing her nails, while
behind her, Wesley was engrossed in one of his books. Cordelia looked
up briefly as Buffy entered. "You took your time."
Buffy barely seemed to notice that she'd spoken, she was so busy looking
around the lobby. "I got stuck in traffic, then I couldn't find this place."
"Hello again, Buffy." Wesley said, putting his book down. "You're looking
well."
"Yeah, you too. Where is he?"
"He's upstairs with Willow, helping Fred pack. I'll go and tell him you're
here."
"Thanks." Buffy watched him disappear up the stairs, then sat down on
the circular couch. After a moment, she asked "Who's Fred, and why's he
packing?"
Cordelia put her file down. "Fred's a girl. She's the one Angel rescued
in Pylea."
"That's the place they made you queen of, right?"
"Yeah." Cordelia's voice took on a wistful note for a moment. "I'm taking
her and Willow over to my place tonight, give you and Angel some space."
"Thanks."
Cordelia sat quietly for a moment, watching Buffy nervously toying with
a strand of her hair, then she came out from behind the counter and walked
over. "Look Buffy, I know you and Angel have the whole tragic romance
thing going, but there's something you need to know."
"What's that?"
"If you hurt him, all the Slayer powers in the world won't be enough to
save you."
For a moment, Buffy just stared at her, startled by the vehemence in her
voice, and then Angel came hurrying down the stairs. Behind him were Wesley,
Willow and a dark-haired young woman. Buffy sprang up from the couch,
slipped past Cordelia and ran to him. They met at the base of the stairs,
flinging their arms around each other in a desperate hug. Moments later
they parted, each taking a step back.
"Hi."
"Hi."
There was a long moment of silence, Buffy and Angel gazing at each other
and the others standing around uncomfortably, before Cordelia spoke. "Okay,
I think that's our cue. Will, Fred, grab your stuff, we're out of here."
Wesley agreed. "Yes, I think I'll say my goodbyes as well. Buffy, Willow,
good to see you again."
He was already gone when Buffy tore her eyes away from Angel. She was
just in time to catch Willow as the witch tried to slip away. Buffy almost
threw herself at her friend, not noticing how Willow stiffened up as she
hugged her. "Thank you, Will, thank you so much!"
Willow hugged her back, awkwardly, disengaging herself as soon as she
could. "I'd better get going. Have fun, okay?"
A few moments later, Buffy and Angel were alone. They stood silent for
a moment, watching each other, then Angel spoke.
"Would you like some tea?"
Faith's pulse echoed in her ears as she raced through the
cemetery, her eyes fixed on the vampire ahead of her. She was barely aware
of her surroundings, had lost all track of where she was. The world had
ceased to exist. There was only the vampire, the Slayer, and the slowly
shrinking gap between them.
The vampire, sensing that her pursuer was only a few yards behind, turned
suddenly and darted around the corner of a mausoleum. Faith didn't even
try to follow. She jumped, kicked off a handy tombstone, and flipped herself
onto the mausoleum's gently sloping roof. Rolling to her feet, she ran
across to the other side and leaped, sailing fifteen feet through the
air before crashing down on the vampire's shoulders. They tumbled to the
ground, rolling over and over together.
Somewhere in the whirl of bodies, Faith lost her bearings, and her grip
on her stake, allowing the vampire was able to take the initiative. Faith
found herself on her back, pinned down, with the vampire's fangs bearing
down on her. She didn't have time to pull out another stake. Lurching
upwards, she drove her forehead into the fanged mouth. There was a flash
of pain as a fang sliced open her skin, then the vampire was jerking away,
blood streaming from split lips. A kick to the head bought Faith the seconds
she needed to draw a stake and drive it through the vampire's back.
Faith picked herself up and wiped the blood from her forehead. The cut
stung, but it wasn't bleeding enough to be serious. Pressing the sleeve
of her black denim jacket against the cut, she looked around, trying to
figure out where she was. That was when she heard the clapping. Peering
through the darkness, she realised that she was less than a hundred yard
from Spike's crypt. Spike was sitting on the roof, applauding. Faith headed
over.
"Nice move, Slayer, you should sell tickets."
"Very funny. What are you doing up there, anyway?"
"What, can't a bloke enjoy the view from his own home?" Spike said defensively,
dropping off the roof with a whiskey bottle in his hand.
"Are you drunk?"
"Not yet." Spike took a swig. "But I'm working on it."
"What's the occasion?"
Spike let out a bitter laugh. "Buffy's with Angel, probably doing her
damnedest to shag the soul out of him, see how good Red's mojo really
is. Therefore, in the grand tradition of love's losers everywhere, I am
getting royally wankered." He tipped another couple of shots worth down
his throat, then waved the bottle at her. "You want some?"
"No, thanks, I don't use the hard stuff." Too many memories.
"Suit yourself. I just figured you might need some, what with you being
in love with her as well."
"What did you say?"
Well, this feels familiar. Angel took a sip of his
tea and put the mug down on the table, wincing slightly as the sound echoed
in through the Hyperion's kitchen. Across from him, Buffy sat fidgeting
in her chair.
"So..."
"So..."
"Yeah."
"Quite a day, huh?" Buffy said, forcing some brightness into her voice.
"Certainly was." Angel agreed. "Willow's getting pretty impressive these
days."
"Tell me about it. Sometimes I think that one day it'll be me backing
her up."
They both laughed at that for a moment, then the awkward silence descended
once again.
"Nice kitchen."
"Huh?"
"You have a nice kitchen. Roomy."
"Thanks. It's a bit over the top for me, though; I just need a microwave
to heat the blood. Fred's pretty much the only one who comes in here."
"She cooks?"
"It's more of a science project, searching for the perfect taco recipe."
Buffy couldn't help but smile at that idea. "So what's her story? How
come she's living with you?"
"She'd been living in a cave in Pylea. We brought her back, and she decided
to stay and help us."
"No family here?" "Her parents are in Texas. She didn't have anywhere
to go, and it's not like I'm short on space here."
"True. Lots of pacing room in this place."
"Yeah."
"Angel, what's happening?" Buffy asked abruptly, unable to stand the small
talk any more. "I've been thinking about this moment, God, I've been dreaming
about it for years, and now it's here and..."
"Nothing's happening."
"Yeah! I mean, I wasn't expecting us to just start tearing our clothes
off in the lobby, but... we didn't even kiss." "Did you want to?"
"Yes!" Buffy replied, then checked herself. "Maybe. I don't... It was
never about wanting to kiss you in the old days, I needed to, and
now..."
"Now we don't need to."
"I don't understand it!" Buffy's eyes were tearing up. "I still love you,
I know I do, but it's different now, and I don't know why."
"You think maybe we moved on?"
"You feel it too?"
"Yes." Angel reached across the table and took her hand. "I'll always
love you, Buffy, but I don't think we're in love any more."
"Wow," Buffy whispered, working the idea over in her mind. "We moved on.
When did that happen?"
"I don't know." Angel said, a rueful smile on his lips, then he noticed
Buffy's expression changing. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm..." Buffy began, then her face seemed to crumple and the tears
began pouring out.
"Buffy, what's wrong?"
"When Willow called, I thought I was getting you back, I thought someone
was coming into my life instead of leaving it, and now you're not, thing's
are just the same as they were."
"What are you talking about? Who's leaving?"
"Faith."
"I am not in love with Buffy."
"Course not. My mistake."
"I am not in love with Buffy!" Faith repeated, glaring at Spike. "For
one thing, she's a girl."
"Well spotted. I didn't think you'd be so uptight about this. I mean,
look at Red: sweet, innocent little teacher's pet, all textbooks and fuzzy
jumpers, and as soon as Dog-Boy does a runner, she heads straight for
the alternative lifestyle section." Spike waved a finger at her. "Now
you, on the other hand, from what I've heard I'd have expected you to
be a lot more flexible, and yet here you are, trying to deny everything."
"Okay, first of all," Faith kicked him "Oz was a good guy, so quit being
so hard on him! You like having a killer inside you, but I'm guessing
it screwed him up in the end, and I can relate, so knock it off! Second,
I AM NOT IN LOVE WITH BUFFY!"
"Balls."
"Spike, I'm warning you-"
"Oh, give it a rest, Slayer, I can see it all over your face. You've got
the look."
"What look?"
"The 'I lost my heart to Buffy Summers' look."
"You are so full of it."
"Don't argue. I've seen it on Peaches, I saw it on Xander a few times
back in the old days, I got sick of the sight of it on Captain America
and I've felt it creep across my own sculpted features on more than a
few occasions. I can spot it at a thousand yards, and you've got it plastered
all over your face."
"Shut up! And give me that!" Faith snatched the bottle and gulped down
a mouthful.
"Hey, take it easy, that's single malt and it's older than you are!"
"Faith's leaving Sunnydale?" Angel asked, surprised.
"She says she has to, that it's better for me if she goes." Buffy wiped
some of the tears from her eyes, only for them to be immediately replaced.
"There's this vamp in town, he used to work for the Mayor. Once we kill
him, she says she's going. I don't think I can take losing her again,
Angel."
"I don't understand, I thought you were getting along great."
"We were, we still are a lot of the time."
"What's changed?"
"Nothing. That's the problem. It's like none of us can let go of all the
old stuff, and now Faith's scared that me having her around is driving
Will and Xander away. She says I need them more than her, so she's going
to leave. She's right, I need them so much now, but I need her too, Angel.
And I can't talk to the others about it because she made me promise not
to tell them. The thought of losing her hurts so much, and it's like the
only way I can deal with the pain is by getting angry with her, and then..."
"Then what?"
"Oh God, Angel, I beat her today! Before Will called, we were sparring,
and then she said she'd told Giles she was going. I guess that made it
seem more real, somehow, and then there was the pain, and the anger, and
I started hitting her! I kicked her halfway across the room, and she wasn't
even fighting back!" Buffy stared across at him, shame and panic pouring
from her in waves. "What am I turning into, Angel?"
Looking into her reddened, puffy eyes, Angel saw the fear and the pain,
and, underneath it all, a young heart breaking. Understanding hit him
like a freight train. He got up, moved around the end of the table, and
slipped onto a chair beside her. "Does she know how you feel?"
"I don't even know how I feel." Buffy sobbed. "I mean, how can I be this
upset at losing her and then beat the crap out of her?"
Oh my God, you have no idea, do you? Taking Buffy's hand again,
Angel put his other arm around her shoulders. "Can I make a suggestion?"
"Please."
"Take some time to yourself to work through this." Weighing his words
carefully, the vampire continued. "Just sit down, on your own, and listen
to your heart. And don't be afraid of what it tells you."
"Nice you can still lay on the melodrama," Buffy said with a weak smile.
Angel smiled back. "I'm serious. Figure out what you want, and talk to
Faith. Let her know how much you're hurting."
"Okay." Buffy wiped her eyes again. "You got somewhere I can crash tonight?"
"I think we can find somewhere habitable."
"Look, I care about her, okay, that's all." Faith insisted,
jabbing her finger toward Spike as he sat beside her against the outer
wall of his crypt, her words slurring slightly. "I want her to be happy.
Doesn't mean I'm in love with her."
"If you say so," Spike replied, the knowing smirk back on his face.
For a moment Faith contemplated yelling at him again, but in the end she
just swallowed another mouthful of scotch and thrust the bottle back at
him. "It's not like it'd matter, anyway. Hell, you'd stand more of a chance
with her than me."
"Oh that's bloody charming, that is. Kick a bloke when he's down."
"Well it's true. At least you've got the right gear in your pants. You
really think B'd be caught dead getting nasty with another girl?"
"Why not? At least you're not a murdering demon."
"No, just a murdering human." Faith's voice was bitter.
"You don't seem that murderous these days."
"It's still there, though. No-one ever forgets."
"I guess that means we're both beneath her, then."
Faith snorted. "Hah! I wish. Did I just say that?"
"I tried to tell you," Spike replied, smirking more than ever.
"God damn it! I don't need this, not now." Faith snatched the bottle back
and took another swig.
"Love's bitches, both of us."
"Well, here's to Cupid, the little bastard." A thought struck her. "Is
he real?"
"Don't know. Might be."
"You know what, we should hunt him down and kick his ass."
"Now you're talking." Spike took a drink and returned the bottle. "I'll
hold him down, you shove that sodding bow right up the little bleeder."
"I'm down with that." Faith drained the last of the scotch. "Ugh. Empty
bottle. Not good."
"Don't worry," Spike said, scrambling to his feet and walking unsteadily
to the door. "I have more."
Chapter 18
It was the smell that first penetrated the fog surrounding Faith's consciousness, a sour, acrid odour that burned her nose and turned her stomach. She groaned, and the sound seemed to echo in her head, the waves of pain sending her stomach into further convulsions.
What the hell happened?
The memories came back in a flood: Buffy's departure for Los Angeles, meeting Spike in the cemetery, the Scotch, the sudden comprehension of what she was feeling. Going into the crypt. More Scotch. Slayer and vampire wallowing together.
Please God, let me have clothes on...
Forcing her eyes open, Faith tried to raise her head. For a moment, her cheek was stuck to the stone lid of the sarcophagus, before it slowly peeled away. Relief at finding herself still clothed was swamped by nausea as she tried to force herself upright. Sitting upright, Faith saw Spike, sound asleep in his battered armchair, a half-empty bottle of whisky cradled in his lap. That was when she finally noticed the pale shafts of sunlight filtering through the crypt's tiny windows. She checked her watch.
5:52 a.m.
Son of a bitch, I left Dawn alone!
Trying to ignore the pain and dizziness, Faith scrambled off the sarcophagus and over to the door. For a moment, she fumbled with the handle, then she was outside, one hand shading her eyes against the dawn light. She barely remembered to pull the door closed before staggering toward the nearest clump of trees. Clutching a trunk, she fell to her knees and spilled the dregs in her stomach onto the grass.
"Hannah isn't back, is she?" Lucas asked as Sean walked into the office, closing the door behind him. Outside, he could hear his vampires settling down for the day.
"No."
Lucas sat down on the edge of his desk, shoulders slumped, facing away from Sean. "She's gone, then."
"Maybe she couldn't get back before dawn." Sean suggested, trying to offer some hope. "She could be holed up in a cellar somewhere, or coming in through the sewers."
"Do you really believe that?"
"No, I guess I don't."
"She was my first, did you know that? The first one I sired in more than seventy years as a vampire, and now she's gone." Lucas stood and turned to face his second. "What happened?"
"Her group was making a kill when one of them spotted the Slayer coming in. Hannah told the others to get clear while she drew the Slayer off."
"Which Slayer?"
"Faith."
Lucas slumped for a moment, then his fingers clenched around the edge of the desk. He was on the verge of flinging it across the office when Sean knocked him back against the wall and held him there. Lucas tried to break free but was shoved back against the brickwork. Leaning in close, one arm pressed across his leader's throat, Sean whispered "Listen to me! I get that she was important to you, but this isn't the time. When you're alone you can shout and scream and destroy things, but you do not do it where the troops can hear you!"
"Still thinking like a soldier, Sergeant?" Lucas' voice was harsh, but his body relaxed a little in Sean's grasp.
"I am a soldier, Lucas. That's why you asked me to come here. I thought you were someone worth following, that's why I said yes. It's not like you're paying me, remember?"
With a rueful nod, Lucas slumped into his swivel chair and looked across at the former paratrooper. "Nothing's going right here, is it? It was supposed to be simple. Come back to Sunnydale, quietly build up some numbers, kill the Slayer and take back the town. Then that treacherous whore shows up, she spots me on the hunt and between her and the other one we're barely gaining strength at all. And now they've taken Hannah."
Sean sat down in the chair opposite. "Why are you doing this, Lucas? Why risk coming back here?"
"It's my home, Sean. Do you remember what that feels like? Where are you from?"
"Milbank, South Dakota."
"Ever been back?"
"Since I was sired? Only once."
"I hardly ever left Sunnydale. Born here, raised here, died here, and then the Mayor recruited me straight out of the grave. This was my world. And the Hellmouth... do you remember the first time you felt its pull? I lived with that feeling for seventy years, bathed in it, and I never once even realised what I was feeling until it was gone."
"You know that if you kill the Slayers there'll be another one. Maybe two."
Lucas shrugged. "Doesn't mean they'll come here. We never had one before that damn Barbie doll arrived, and the Hellmouth was still here then. If one comes, I'll deal with her then. These two have to die, especially Faith."
"Why? Because she's alive and your mentor isn't?"
"He gave her everything." Lucas' voice became low and harsh, anger showing on his face. "She'd been ignored, humiliated and used. He took her in, treated her like his own daughter, and now she's back with them like it never happened. He's dead and she's playing house with his killer."
"All right, then. We need a new strategy."
"What do you mean?"
"Look, Lucas, this whole secret build-up plan sounds good in theory, but we have to feed, and if we want to keep our instincts honed we have to hunt. Every time we're out there we're exposed and in this town, that means we're going to keep losing people."
"I suppose so."
"This way's been tried before. The Master, Spike, Angelus, and where are they now? The Master's dust, Angelus is in L.A. playing hero and Spike works for the Slayers."
"So what's your alternative?"
"She's back."
"Which one?"
"Slayer Two, just coming up to the house. Still no sign of Slayer One."
"God, she looks rough. Wonder where she's been?"
"If the Council get off their arses and send the new gear over, we might actually have some idea."
The sun was still low in the sky when Faith crept into the house. Slipping off the cheap sunglasses she'd picked up at a convenience store, she looked around in the subdued light.
Okay, no blood, no wreckage, this is good...
There was a pizza box on the living room table. Faith lifted the lid and then stepped back hurriedly, her stomach flip-flopping as the smell of cold anchovies washed over her. For a moment, she thought she was going to bring up the water and aspirin she'd bought with the sunglasses, but the moment passed and, legs still a little rubbery, she went to check the kitchen. Finding nothing out of place, she moved upstairs.
Faith silently opened the door to Dawn's bedroom and poked her head around the corner, letting out a relieved sigh as she saw Dawn sleeping peacefully, her dark hair fanned out like a shadow across the pillows. It suddenly came home to Faith how much she was going to miss Dawn, how much she'd come to care for her in the previous six months. Eyes glistening in the faint light that filtered through the curtains, Faith slipped silently from the room.
Withdrawing to her own bedroom, Faith quickly stripped off her grimy patrol clothes and tossed them into a corner. For a moment, she was about to leave her jacket with the rest, but the smell emanating from the sticky yellow spatters on the denim convinced her otherwise. She wrapped her bathrobe around herself and, trying not to move her throbbing head, she crept down to the basement and tossed the jacket into the washing machine. Passing by the kitchen on the way up again, Faith remembered hearing something about orange juice helping with hangovers, so she opened the fridge and swallowed half a carton before heading for the shower.
A quick blast of cold water left her shivering, but soothed the pounding in her head a little and cleared some of the muzziness. Switching to hot water, Faith began shampooing the filth and crypt dust from her hair.
The combination of hot water and aspirin quickly began to relieve the headache and, her worries about Dawn laid to rest, Faith was no longer able to avoid thinking about the previous night.
Damn it, B, why now? Of all the times to make me feel like this... Faith leaned her head against the wall, tears mingling with the water flowing over her skin. It wasn't going to be hard enough before, is that it? You had to make it harder? How can I leave you now?
She straightened her back, her face becoming harder, more determined.
Because I have to. If I really care about you that much, I've got to go before I drag you down again.
Faith didn't get out of the shower until the water ran cold. The towel felt rough on her skin as she dried off, then wrapped a bathrobe around herself. Using a fresh towel to dry her hair, Faith left the bathroom and nearly collided with Dawn. "Whoa! Hey, Bitesize, didn't wake you, did I?"
"No, I just really need the bathroom..." Dawn said rapidly, trying to slip past her.
"Okay. Hey, wait up a sec..." Faith grabbed Dawn's arm. "You were okay last night, right? I got caught up chasing a vamp, lost track of time. I'm sorry."
"No-no, no problems. Had pizza, did some homework, watched some TV." Dawn replied, bouncing place. "Faith, I've got to go..."
"Cool. Look, I'm going to sack out again for a bit, I'm feeling kind of screwy."
"Yeah-sure-okay!" Dawn said, slamming the door shut.
"I love Sunday mornings." Anya murmured, snuggling up against Xander and resting her head on his chest. "Every other day one of us has to go to work, we barely have time for any sex before breakfast. But Sundays... we've got nowhere to be and no one to see. Hours of orgasms. Isn't it great?"
Xander didn't respond, and got poked in the ribs. "Ow!"
"You weren't listening," Anya pouted. "It's like we're already married."
"Sorry, An. I was just thinking about Buffy."
"Buffy? I'm talking about sex and you think of Buffy?"
"I'm worried about her," Xander replied quickly. "This whole Angel thing, it's a bad idea. He's just going to hurt her again."
"Hurt her how?" Anya asked, her old 'Avenger of scorned women' instincts kicking in.
"I didn't mean... it's not like he abused her or anything - well, except when he was evil - but the whole thing was one long drama even when he wasn't trying to destroy the world. Angel's like trauma with hair-gel, but Buffy keeps getting drawn back to him, and every time, she gets burned."
"She seemed pretty miserable without him, when I got here."
"You never saw her with him."
"So you're saying she was happier after he dumped her? Is that why you don't like him?"
"He's a vampire, An, that's all the reason I need."
"Well yeah, sure, but with Angel it sounds more personal. Are you having feelings for her again?"
Xander let out a 'God, not this again' sigh. "No, An, Buffy's my friend, I don't want to see her get hurt again. I never saw that much of it, but Will told me Buffy was always miserable when she was with Angel. The only time I've ever been happy with the guy was when he left, that proved he cared about her. I don't want to go back to hating Angel, I'm too busy hating Spike."
"You do know we wouldn't be together if it wasn't for him?"
"What?"
"It's true. If Spike hadn't kidnapped you and Willow, Cordelia wouldn't have caught you being a typical unfaithful male, I wouldn't have come to exact vengeance for her, I wouldn't have lost my powers and got stuck here without a date for the Prom."
"Oh my God..." Xander whispered, horrified. "Anya, if you truly love me, never mention this again. Ever. To anyone."
"Okay." Anya mentally filed it under 'Blackmail'. For a few moments she lay silent, then she rolled on top of Xander and sat up, straddling his waist, smirking as his eyes fixated on her breasts. "Enough talking. I want orgasms."
The dorm should have been a sanctuary, somewhere comforting and familiar into which Willow could retreat from the confusion that surrounded her, but instead it felt empty, desolate. Tara was absent, and without her the room was almost unbearably quiet.
Willow dropped her back by the door and flopped onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling as she tried to make sense of the previous day.
Spending the night at Cordelia's apartment hadn't been nearly as uncomfortable as Willow had feared. Her former tormentor was every bit as acerbic as she had been, but she'd lost the old spiteful edge to her voice, and Willow sensed a commitment and humility in her that hadn't been there at school. Fred had been a little disconcerting at first - her combination of fearsome intelligence and bouts of baffling eccentricity took a little getting used to - but she was certainly interesting company. And then there was Dennis, the literal phantom roommate...
All in all it should have been an enjoyable diversion break from the Sunnydale routine, and yet Willow had been on edge all night. Any time her mind wandered she would find herself assailed by the memory she had gained of Buffy and Angel's night together, the feeling of her best friend writhing naked beneath her. The power of Angel's desire that night was so intense that Willow feared she would never be free of it. For hours she had fought against her need to sleep, not wanting to relive the experience in her dreams, but eventually the stresses and exertions of the day had overwhelmed her. Thankfully, if her subconscious had raised the matter, she didn't remember it.
The Buffy had arrived on Cordelia's doorstep early that morning. Willow had been genuinely shocked by her friend's demeanour. She had hoped - expected - that Buffy would be overjoyed to have the love of her life returned to her. Pushed ruthlessly to the back of Willow's mind had been the fear that it wouldn't work out and Buffy would be heartbroken, or angry with her for interfering. It had never occurred to Willow that her friend would simply be... empty.
Buffy had barely spoke all the way home. Normally Willow would have been all in favour of Buffy concentrating on her driving, but today she was desperate for some indication of what was going through her friend's mind.
What do I do now? I can't help her if I don't know what she's feeling. I'm going to lose her again!
Willow curled herself into a ball on the bed and let the tears come.
Dawn was sitting in front of the TV, flicking through channels in search of anything that wasn't either hopelessly bland or broadcast straight from the Bible Belt, when Buffy came through the front door, still in the training clothes she'd worn when she rushed from the Magic Box the previous day. Dawn flicked off the TV, interrupting a particularly manic evangelist mid-rant. "You're back! Why? I figured you and Angel would want a couple of days together, at least."
"We're not together, Dawnie."
The weary sadness in Buffy's voice brought Dawn to her feet, confusion and concern appearing on her face. "You're not? How come? I thought you guys had, like, the forever thing."
"We're..." Buffy hesitated, fumbling for an answer. "We're just not in that place any more."
"But-"
"Dawn, please, don't." Buffy whispered, a hint of desperation in her voice. "I really don't want to talk about it right now."
"Yeah, sure." Dawn replied, her voice doubtful. "Are you okay?"
"I'll be fine." Buffy replied. "Yesterday was kind of a long day. Is Faith around?"
"She went back to bed, she said she wasn't feeling so good."
"Oh. No problems last night?"
"Nope. Just did some homework, watched TV and went to bed." Same as every night, Dawn added silently. "Faith said not to wait up for her."
"She wasn't back when you went to bed?"
"No, she was out late. Real late, like after two. What?" Dawn hurried on as she saw the look of annoyance cross Buffy's face. "I got up for a glass of water, okay? Anyway, Faith wasn't back. And..."
"And what?"
"I -I think she was drinking."
"Drinking? How do you know?"
"Buffy, I'm in high school, I've seen people with hangovers. I'm not sure, Faith just looked like hell this morning."
"Okay, I'll look in her after I've had a shower, make sure she's all right."
A quick shower and fresh clothes left Buffy feeling more comfortable physically, but her emotional turmoil was far harder to quell. She stood on the landing outside Faith's room, and it was a moment before she could make herself look through the always-open door. The curtains were closed, leaving the room in a kind of false twilight. Faith was curled up in the middle of her bed, the sheets wrapped tightly around her.
What have you done to me? Buffy wondered. A year ago I hoped I'd never see you again, and now I'm terrified of you leaving. Why does everything I do seem to drive you away?
She was turning away when Faith opened her eyes. "Buffy?"
"Hi Feeling better?"
"Yeah, thanks." Faith replied with an awkward half-smile. "Got to love being a Slayer - you get some twenty-four hour bug and kick its ass in six. How come you're back so soon?"
"No reason to stay." Buffy managed to keep her voice under better control than she had with Dawn. "Me and Angel, we're not going to happen again."
"God, I'm sorry B." Am I?
"It's okay, I should've figured it out before now, our moment's gone. How was patrol?" Buffy tried changing the subject. "Dawn said you were back late."
"Yeah, sorry about that. This vamp had me chasing her half way across town before I nailed her."
"Been there." A faint smile flickered across Buffy's lips. "You sure you're okay? Dawn's got this crazy idea that you got drunk last night."
"Why'd I do that, B?" Faith asked quietly.
"Yeah, that's what I thought."
There was a moment of silence, the two Slayers watching each other, before Buffy broke away. "I'd better go do some studying."
"Five by five."
The door opened, rousing Willow from the fitful doze she'd cried herself into. Sitting up on the bed, she saw Tara struggling through the door with an overflowing laundry bag. Tara's attention was completely focussed on not spilling clothes all over the carpet, so it was a few moments before she realised she wasn't alone in the room. "Sweetie, you're back! You should have called, I'd have waited for you."
"I'm sorry, we got started pretty early, so I didn't want to wake you. Besides, Sunday morning's good for laundry."
Tara's smile faded as she caught the hesitant note in Willow's voice. "What's wrong? I thought the curse worked fine."
"You know about that?"
"Dawn called me last night, I think she was lonely. She told me." Tara replied, a little hurt that she'd had to find out second-hand. "Did something go wrong?"
"No-no everything went okay, Angel's safe for good. It's just Buffy... I thought she'd be happy. I mean, she got the love of her life back, but she's just... cold, I guess."
"W-What if he isn't?" Tara asked. "The love of her life, I mean. Maybe there's someone else-"
"Someone else? Who?" Panic shot through Willow's mind. Oh God, she's remembering!
"I don't know, I was just wondering. Or it might be something else, like it's the wrong time. Love's never simple."
"You're probably right." Willow replied, relaxing a little. "I just wanted something good to happen for Buffy for a change, and now it just feels like a waste of time."
"No!" Tara sat down beside Willow and wrapped her arms around her. "You did a good thing, an amazing thing. Angelus is gone. I am so proud of you, baby." Willow gave her a brief smile, then laid her head on her girlfriend's shoulder.
They sat like that for a little while, and then Willow reluctantly disentangled herself and stood up. "Come on, we'd better get these clothes folded." She was just bending over the laundry bag when she felt Tara's arms loop around her waist.
"I missed you last night." Tara's voice was a seductive whisper, her breath tickling the back of Willow's ear.
"I-I missed you too, but shouldn't we-" Willow's protest died on her lips ass Tara began nibbling the side of her neck. Spinning around in Tara's arms, Willow captured her girlfriend's lips with her own. Tara giggled into her mouth and took a couple of backward steps, pulling Willow with her until they toppled over onto the bed.
As Tara began gently stroking her back, Willow slid her hand up to Tara's breast, caressing the soft mound of flesh. Tara let out a quiet moan and whispered, "You're such a breast girl."
"I don't hear you complaining." Willow shot back with a smirk, fingers stroking Tara's hardening nipple.
...Buffy arched beneath her, crying out as her nipple was pinched between inhumanly strong fingers...
Willow jumped back, snatching her hand from Tara's breast as though she'd been burned. She backed away from the bed, clutching her hand and whispering "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."
Tara was on her feet a moment later, reaching out to her. "What's wrong?"
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Willow flinched as Tara's fingertips brushed her shoulder. "I couldn't help it."
"Couldn't help what?" Tara's voice became more anxious. "What happened? What did I do?"
"No, no, it wasn't you, it was me, the spell I did."
"I don't understand."
Sitting carefully on the edge of the bed, Willow tried to gather her scattered wits. "When I was in L.A., I had to make Angel remember losing his soul, the night he slept with Buffy. I went through it with him, his memories, everything. I keep getting these flashbacks of what it felt like... being with her."
Tara watched her silently for a moment, taking in the hesitation in her voice, her shortness of breath, her refusal to make eye contact. When she spoke, her voice was terribly quiet. "You liked it."
"What?" Willow's head snapped to look at her, but Tara had already turned away.
"I always w-wondered if you were attracted to Buffy," she said bowing her head, hiding the gathering tears. "I mean, who wouldn't be? She's beautiful, loyal, a superhero."
"No, Tara, that's not what I meant!" Willow's voice was rising in pitch, taking on an edge of panic. "This isn't me, it's coming from Angel!"
"What do you mean?" Tara was doubtful.
"It's all his feelings, his memories of that night. I got it all from him and now I can't shake it off."
"Do you want to?" Tara's softly-spoken question hit Willow like a body blow.
"What?"
"Some part of you obviously doesn't want to let go of the memory, Willow, or you wouldn't keep bringing it up."
"Tara, please, you've got to believe me-"
"It's okay, Willow, I understand." Tara said, her voice subdued and tinged with a terrible sadness. "You can't help the way you feel." She picked up her jacket.
Willow leapt to her feet and put a hand on Tara's shoulder. "Baby, wait, don't go..."
"Willow, please." Tara opened the door. "I need some time to think."
"I love you."
"I know." Tara didn't look back as the door closed behind her.
For a heartbeat Willow stood motionless, then a voice deep inside her snapped, Don't just stand there, moron! Stop her! Her eyes fell upon an open box of spell ingredients by the wall, and a ziploc bag of Lethe's Bramble.
"Okay, Sean, we'll do it. Are you sure you can get the gear?"
"Yes. It'll take a bit of time, but I know some people who can get us what we need. It won't be cheap though, Lucas."
"I'm sure we'll find some way to get the money."
"I already have one."
