AN UNEXPECTED SONG, Chapter 1
(Sequel to "The Power Of Love")
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the characters from BTVS or ANGEL. They're owned by Joss Whedon, MutantEnemy, etc.
SUMMARY: Buffy's in the hospital, following her return from near-death. Angel is about to learn that when Willow re-souled him (episode "Becoming 2") the curse she used didn't contain the true happiness clause.
A/N: This takes place in the spring of 2001, two years after Angel left Sunnydale. It's set in an alternate timeline from the shows, so none of the events of Season 5/Season 2 have happened. There is no Dawn, Joyce isn't ill, Darla wasn't brought back by Wolfram & Hart, etc.
A/N2: The song below is "An Unexpected Song" from the show "Song & Dance" by Andrew Lloyd Webber. It doesn't really have anything to do with this story; I just love this song for its beautiful melody, and to me the lyrics set the mood for the whole Buffy/Angel saga.
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I have never felt like this
For once I'm lost for words
Your smile has really thrown me
This is not like me at all
I never thought I'd know
The kind of love you've shown me
Now, no matter where I am, no matter what I do
I see your face appearing,
Like an unexpected song,
An unexpected song
That only we are hearing
I don't know what's going on,
Can't work it out at all
Whatever made you choose me?
I just can't believe my eyes
You look at me as though
You couldn't bear to lose me
Now, no matter where I am, no matter what I do
I see your face appearing,
Like an unexpected song,
An unexpected song
That only we are hearing
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"Are you positive?"
Giles's intent to inform Buffy about the curse had met with a snag. Joyce had intercepted the good news gang at the door to her room and flatly refused to let them interrupt Buffy's rest.
"She's asleep and this time she's going to stay asleep. Whatever it is - I don't care if the world is coming to an end again - it can wait. She's had a very difficult morning, not to mention the last two weeks, and she needs to rest."
In the face of this maternal declaration they were forced to admit defeat. Rather disconsolately they trooped outside the hospital, where they gathered together in a discouraged huddle.
"Now what?" Xander wanted to know. "Here we are, all agog with exciting news and no one to hear it."
Willow opened her mouth but Giles beat her to it. "Now we go tell Angel. He has even more right than Buffy to hear it immediately. After all," he added drily, "it's his curse."
Now Giles and Willow sat in the kitchen of Angel's old home, looking across a small table at the vampire. Xander and Tara had declared their presences not necessary and possibly even unwelcome, at least in Xander's case, so it was just the two of them who told Angel what Tara's researches had uncovered. Groggy when they first arrived, and a touch miffed at having been awakened when he'd only just fallen asleep, Angel quickly became alert upon hearing their tidings.
"As positive as we can be without having actually been present at the first, er, incident," Giles said now. He handed Angel the printed sheets. "But take a look yourself. You know Latin and probably Rumanian too, since you spent so many years there."
Angel raised his eyebrows in a doubtful gesture. "That was a very long time ago," he reminded Giles, but took a look at the pages anyway. His brows instantly rose again. "Latin, Rumanian, and Romany? That's unusual."
"Extremely," Giles agreed. "I can only imagine it was a safety measure. If the curse fell into non-Romany hands it would be more difficult to translate, and therefore more difficult to use."
Angel continued to scan the printouts, his dark eyes traveling between the original and Professor Lowesky's translation. Finally he looked up. "I'm a bit rusty, but what I've been able to make out seems to support your theory that this isn't the curse that was originally set on me. There doesn't appear to be any specific mention of happiness, only references to guilt and remorse and suffering."
"It's not just my theory," Giles reminded him. "It's also Professor Lowesky's."
Leaving the copies on the table, Angel got up and strode about the room, hands in pockets. "I've heard of her. She's supposed to be very good."
"She's the best," corrected Giles firmly. "I would stake my life on the accuracy of anything she translated."
Angel stopped his restless pacing and looked at him. "What about Buffy's life?"
There was sudden silence, broken a minute later by Willow. "That's not Giles's decision to make. It's Buffy's."
"And mine," returned Angel, with a steady gaze at the young woman.
Willow nodded. "And yours," she agreed.
Angel returned to the table and stood there, studying the copies yet again.
Willow fidgeted, biting her lip. "I'm so sorry," she blurted out. "I should have realized it wasn't the same curse. You and Buffy could have been together this whole time instead of being apart and lonely and, and miserable. It's all my fault." Tears stood in her eyes.
"That isn't true," Giles said quickly. "Willow, you're not a Latin scholar. I am. If anyone should have picked up on the differences, it was me." He passed his hand over his face. "It simply never occurred to me that the one Jenny found might be a different curse."
"Why should it?" Angel didn't look up from his perusal. "There can't be that many curses around that recall souls to their bodies. Besides, it's not like you didn't have plenty of other things on your mind at the time."
Like Jenny's death. Like me trying to wake Acathla so he could pull every living soul on earth into hell. Like Xander and Willow getting hurt when Dru kidnapped Giles so I could torture him. Like Dru killing Kendra and Buffy being suspected of her murder by the police.
The heaviness in Angel's voice brought Giles' head up. He and Willow exchanged disturbed glances. "Angel, that wasn't you," Giles said quietly, leaning forward. "We know that and so do you."
"Wasn't it?" Angel's head was still down, his voice muffled. "I remember it all, every last detail. Every thought, every word . . . every deed."
"Those are the demon's memories, not yours," Willow declared earnestly. "Angel, you have a conscience, and unlike a lot of mortal-type people you do let yours be your guide. You know you would never do the things he did."
After a moment Angel raised his head and gave her a little sideways smile. He straightened. "Thanks. You're right. It's just - sometimes it's hard to remember that, when I can still hear the screams in my head."
Not giving them time to react to that statement he went on, "And, Willow, don't blame yourself for not spotting that the curse was different - you either, Giles. I don't blame you and neither will Buffy. Besides, what's done is done and we just have to live with it. Time can't be turned back - not by us lower beings, anyway."
He noticed the sudden interest in Giles' gaze, and cursed under his breath, suddenly realizing what he'd said.
"No," Giles said, holding his gaze, "temporal folds would be the business of the Powers That Be." Angel watched warily as he crossed the distance between them and continued smoothly, "If there were such a thing, that is; which of course there isn't."
"Temporal folds?" asked Willow, curious. "What's that?"
Releasing Angel's gaze, Giles glanced at Willow. "Oh, it's a phrase I ran across some time ago while reading. It's just a fancy term for, well, for turning back time." Willow nodded, satisfied, and Giles cocked his head at Angel.
Speaking softly so Willow couldn't hear, he said, "I found it many years ago while reading the diary of Kwan Li, a former Watcher who was Head of the Council in the late eighteen hundreds. It intrigued me, so I researched further and discovered an entry in the Council records from 1813. It stated that beings called the Oracles had been appealed to and had agreed, although very reluctantly, to 'take back the days' - in this case 52 hours during which the Council headquarters had been overrun by demons and many Watchers killed."
"Really," Angel said, deliberately noncommital.
"Yes. Really," Giles nodded. "The entry was initialed by every member of the Inner Council, because of course once time was turned back no one would remember it. Except for two people, that is - the Head of the Council and his next in command. They alone retained the memory of what had happened before."
Angel's jaw tightened involuntarily. (Buffy, sobbing, "I'll never forget; I'll never forget, I'll never forget. . . .") Swallowing, he threw off the bitter memory, and said, with only slight huskiness, "That makes sense, I guess. Someone has to remember, otherwise events would simply repeat themselves."
Giles gave him another searching look. Inexplicably his eyes softened, and Angel wondered just how much the astute ex-Watcher had guessed. Giles nodded once, compassionately, before turning to Willow. "We should let Angel get back to his rest, Willow."
While Angel smiled wryly at the notion of being able to sleep after receiving news like this, the young woman rose to her feet. "Angel, do you want us to tell Buffy about the curse?" she asked him as she slung her purse strap over her shoulder.
"No," Angel replied at once. "I'll tell her tonight." Then, as Willow looked at him doubtfully, he smiled. "I will tell her; I promise."
"See that you do," Giles said, only half-joking. "I wouldn't want to be in your shoes if you didn't, and she found out."
Angel chuckled ruefully. "You're right. I'm already in trouble for not telling her about the Shanshu prophecy.
"What's a shashu prophecy?" Willow wanted to know.
"Shan-shu," Giles corrected her. "I'll explain on the way home." Then he paused. "That is, if that's all right with you, Angel."
Angel shrugged. "Sure; why not? There's no real reason to keep it a secret anymore."
Giles looked back from the doorway. Angel had resumed studying the copies on the table, as if further perusal might uncover even more secrets. The fact that he hadn't seen them to the door indicated how completely their news had overwhelmed him, for Angel was normally punctilious about small courtesies like that. Not that Giles minded. Angel had just received the equivalent of a knockout punch to the head; it was only to be expected that he wouldn't be thinking clearly for a while.
Angel didn't even hear the door close. He stared at the papers but the print was only a blur. His mind was in a whirl. In the space of maybe fifteen minutes his world had been turned upside down.
No loophole . . . my soul is secure . . . it wasn't the same curse . . . Buffy . . . we can be together . . . How?. . . She can't leave Sunnydale . . . she's the Slayer . . . they need her here . . . maybe I could move back . . . but how can I leave L.A.? . . . I'm needed there . . . I'm helping people . . .
. . . No loophole . . . we can make love . . . God . . . I love her so much . . . Could we make it work this time?. . . I've changed . . . she's changed too . . . My soul is safe . . .
. . . Buffy . . . together. . . .
He sank into a chair, staring blindly in front of him.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Angel paused in the open doorway to Buffy's hospital room. Buffy was sleeping, and he watched her in silence, drinking in the sight of her. She was obviously feeling better, for her hair was clean now, falling loosely around her shoulders, which meant she'd taken a shower. Also, her face had more color in it, which went a long way toward dispelling the wraithlike appearance of the night before and made her look more like the girl he remembered.
Or maybe he was just seeing her with new eyes since learning that the main obstacle that had kept them apart for three years no longer existed. A lingering aroma of food made him sniff questioningly.
Hamburgers?
"She insisted that she was starving for a Big Mac." Speaking in a low murmur, Joyce got up from the chair by the window where she'd been going through her mail, and came over. "So Xander brought her two of them, also a giant vanilla shake and the biggest order of fries I've ever seen. Even before the accident, Buffy couldn't have eaten half that much."
Angel smiled. "Why do I get the feeling that Xander wasn't being completely altruistic by bringing all that food?"
Joyce chuckled softly. "Because you know Xander. He ended up eating everything Buffy didn't." Then she grew serious. Checking to make sure Buffy was still asleep, she said, "Giles told me about the curse, and I'm so happy for you, Angel. And relieved."
"Thank you. So am I," Angel replied, although in fact he still wasn't sure just what exactly he was feeling. He never had got back to sleep, and a whole day's worth of ruminations had only clarified the fact of his uncertainty.
Joyce studied him. "It changes everything, doesn't it?" she said compassionately.
"Everything," he agreed. "Even the way I look at her. I'm not sure I've really taken it in yet," he suddenly added - much to his own surprise, since he wasn't the confiding type usually. Not with Buffy's mother, at least.
Joyce's smile conveyed understanding. "Big shocks like that usually do take a while to sink in, whether they're good or bad. I'm sure Buffy will do her best to help you with the process."
Her eyes twinkled and the smile grew briefly mischievous. "Well, I'll leave you two alone, but I'll be back around nine-thirty to say good-night to Buffy before I go home. Oh, I almost forgot."
She reached into her jacket pocket. "This fell off Buffy's finger while she was sleeping. Since she wasn't wearing any rings before your visit, I assume you gave it to her?" At Angel's nod she handed the claddagh ring to him. "See you later, Angel." Stuffing the mail into her purse, she left.
"Thank you." Then Angel remembered his manners and belatedly called after her, "Oh, good-night." Already several doors away, Buffy's mother smiled over her shoulder, acknowledging his words with a small wave. Then she turned the corner and was gone.
Angel came into the room, quietly closing the door behind him. He retrieved the chair from its position by the window and placed it next to the bed, close enough that he could touch Buffy easily, then took off his jacket and hung it over the back. As he seated himself, however, she spoke. "Hey." Her eyes opened, regarded him sleepily.
"Hey," he replied, taken aback. He'd actually been hoping that she'd sleep a bit longer, postponing the moment he was half-dreading, half-longing for. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?"
Buffy yawned. "Yeah, but that's all right. I feel like I've slept all day; it's time I stayed awake for a while." She pressed a button on the control switch pinned to her sheet, and the head of the bed began rising.
"Besides, I'd much rather talk to you." She rearranged her pillow behind her on the now upright mattress and regarded him. "Thank you for not leaving."
"You don't have to thank me; I wanted to stay."
"But you wouldn't have, if I hadn't asked you to." It wasn't a question.
Angel glanced away. "I don't know," he admitted. "How are you doing?" Changing the subject.
"Okay, I guess," she said quietly. "Considering that I came this close to dying and survived, only to metaphorically stab my boyfriend in the heart by telling him I didn't really love him. Considering that I still can't be with the person I do love because it's too dangerous for us to be together."
Angel cleared his throat. "Actually, I meant physically. Have you had any headaches or - anything?"
The Buffy he remembered would have looked discomfited, at least, and made some embarrassed remark about pushing the rewind button, but to Angel's surprise she did neither.
Instead she smiled a little and said, "Not ready to face the real stuff, Angel? Okay. Let's see, physically I'm doing good. I took a shower when I woke up again this morning - over the doctor's strenuous objections, I might add - and got my hair clean at least, although it won't make the cover of Cosmo. I haven't decided what to do about this partial Sinead, though."
"Sinead?" Angel was lost. Buffy elaborated. "Sinead O'Connor? Irish singer who went the almost-bald route a few years ago?"
"Oh, yes." Angel had vague memories of seeing pictures of a beautiful young woman with hair clipped as close to the skull as it could be without being actually shaved. Then he did a double-take. "You're thinking of cutting your hair?"
Both shoulders went up in a shrug. "I don't think I have a choice. It's going to look pretty weird if I don't. Unless of course I decide to go for the Cyndi Lauper look." As he started to ask, she waved her hand dismissively. "A pop star. Never mind the details; I was only kidding anyway. As I said, I'm feeling pretty good, physically. In fact, I intend to leave the hospital tomorrow."
Angel smiled. "What did the doctor say about that?"
Her mischievous grin flashed out. "Just what you'd expect. 'Miss Summers, you really should stay until we can run more tests.' "
She shrugged. "No way. I want to get out of here. There's nothing wrong with me that another night's rest and a few decent meals and a little exercise won't fix. Physically, that is. Emotionally - well, that's another matter."
That was his cue if ever he'd heard one. Angel took a deep breath and just blurted it out. "Buffy . . . Willow and Giles came to me today with some news. Tara discovered that the curse that Willow performed on me - you know, when I was trying to wake Acathla - "
Her eyes clouding with remembered pain, Buffy nodded. Angel hurried on. "Well, it seems that it, uh - "
He took another deep breath. "It didn't contain the happiness clause that endangers my soul."
Uncomprehending silence. Buffy's brow creased. "But . . . how? I mean, it had to. It's the curse that Ms. Calendar found, the one her clan cursed you with way back -"
"No," Angel interrupted. "It's different."
"What? How could it be different? There's more than one re-souling curse?"
Angel spoke carefully. "It appears that the Kalderash took an ancient, traditional Romany curse and . . . changed it, to meet their own requirements for vengeance. They took out the time limit that was set into the traditional one, and added the moment of true happiness part."
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END OF CHAPTER 1