Happy Ending
Written by Doug Patterson
Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Buffy or Angel, though I wish I did! The lucky dogs that do are 20th Century Fox, Mutant Enemies Inc., and Joss Whedon. I'll also give credit to UPN, since they aired Buffy for 2 glorious seasons even though it could have been cancelled. I won't give any credit to a certain frog network because I hate them and hope they go back to the Hellmouth from whence they came. Thanks!
Author's Notes: The following story comes from my twisted mind, and takes place shortly after the events in "Not Fade Away", the series finale of Angel. Some of the dialogue I used is from the episode "Anne", the third season premiere of Buffy The Vampire Slayer. While I LOVE the way Angel ended, I just felt that there needed to be some closure on certain issues. Hope you enjoy!
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Buffy stood at the edge of the beach where the ocean met the sand and allowed the cool water to wash over her feet. An evening breeze bushed across her face and danced playfully with her long blonde hair and pink dress. She inhaled deeply, taking in the sweet scent of salt water. A smile crossed her lips. The sun was just beginning to set, and the sky was a canvas of beautiful colors: blue, pinks, lavenders, and reds. Buffy closed her eyes, listened to the gentle lull of the ocean, and took a moment to reflect on the day that had just passed. She wanted to absorb every ounce of it - forever.
Two arms wrapped themselves around Buffy's tiny waist, clasping in front. Though the grasp was strong, it was also familiar. It made her feel safe, like nothing could hurt her ever again. Her smile widened and her eyelids flitted open. She leaned her head against the bare chest of her lover and could feel his heart beating against the nape of her neck. It was steady, just as hers was.
"Angel," Buffy whispered. She turned in his arms and embraced him tightly, never wanting to let him go. Buffy had made that mistake before, and she wasn't one to make the same mistake twice.
"How did you find me?" she cooed.
"If I were blind, I would see you," Angel answered, his breath soft against her skin.
"Stay with me?"
"Forever. That's the whole point. I'll never leave," Angel said, caressing her in his arms.
Buffy gently broke from Angel's hold as something caught her attention. She walked a small stretch of beach and stopped to pick up something beautiful and shiny lying in the sand. Turning it in her fingers, Buffy looked at her lover excitedly. He was nodding. "You did this for me?"
"Buffy, I'd do anything for you. I just want you to be happy."
He pointed to a small cottage a few yards away. A warm yellow glow exuded from inside. Two lounge chairs sat side a side on the large wood porch. On top of a small round table was a pitcher of lemonade and two cups with colorful designs. Buffy pressed her lips against Angel's and kissed him passionately. When she pulled away, there were tears in her eyes. Angel pressed his thumb gently against her cheek and brushed a tear away.
"I love you," Buffy whispered.
"I love you, too!"
-----
They hadn't seen each other for nearly a year. Angel had been busy running the Los Angeles division of an evil law firm, Wolfram and Hart, and Buffy was exploring a new life in Rome. They were drawn together for the final battle of the apocalypse. Angel had contacted Buffy a week before joining, and subsequently destroying, the Circle of the Black Thorn - an elite society of netherworld creatures whom were responsible for making sure everything ran smoothly for the apocalypse. The Senior Partners of Wolfram and Hart, who Angel had an intense desire to damage, were affiliated with Black Thorn members, and Angel knew once the partners discovered his betrayal to the organization they would send a legion of demons to destroy both him and his cohorts.Buffy was serving as head of the new Watcher's Council, an assemblage that helped guide the vampire slayers of the world. Angel knew if he had an army of slayers at his disposal it would balance the scale of good and evil during the fight. At first Buffy was hesitant in helping. She had found it difficult to trust Angel's loyalty after finding out he was the CEO of evil incorporate. However, the letter Angel sent convinced her that they were both fighting the good fight. Only their methods differed. So she traveled to Los Angeles with two hundred slayers, as well as her best friend Willow. Following Angel's directions, they found him in an alley behind the old Hyperion Hotel. His entourage consisted of Spike, the only vampire other than Angel who had a soul; Illyria, an ancient demon controlling the body of Angel's deceased friend Fred; and Gunn, an African- American vampire hunter-turned-lawyer.
The battle was just beginning when the slayer brigade arrived. A multitude of hell beasts, ranging from ogres that stood hundreds of stories high, to a dragon with fiery breath that licked the rain-filled air, were charging at them.
"Let's get to work," Angel shouted, thrusting his sword into the head of a sharp-toothed demon that was wielding a nasty looking mallet. A glob of black gunk squirted from the demon's wound and it squealed for a moment before falling into a heap on the wet concrete.
"Angel," Buffy shouted. The vampire briefly turned to her, nodded affirmatively, and went back to work.
"Let's go," Buffy cried out to the slayers, and they headed towards uncertain doom.
The battle lasted for hours, though it seemed like an eternity. Several slayers fought valiantly and died. Illyria was making quick work of a blue- skinned goblin when a skeletal demon with purple ooze dripping from several parts of it's body blind-sided her and bit her head off. Gunn, who had already been badly beaten by a group of vampires earlier in the night, was using every ounce of strength he had. Sadly, that wasn't enough and he died quickly. The dragon greedily devoured his body. Spike was having a fantastic time slashing and bashing a group of the bigger, nastier demons. He would effortlessly gut one demon, then smoothly glide to another and decapitate it. His cockiness got the best of him as he was preparing to jump onto the back the biggest, ugliest monster of them all. He made a running leap and was about to make contact when the creature opened its mouth; which was conviently located at the small of it's back. Two rows of sharp yellow teeth glistened in the rain.
"Oh bloody hell!" Spike screamed as he fell into the mouth and was gobbled up whole.
Midway through the battle, as the number of slayers was rapidly diminishing, Willow found it necessary to use a spell she had learned during her time in Brazil. The incantation was rooted in very primal magic taught to her by a tribe long thought to be legend. Because of potentially dire consequences, she had been instructed to use it only when it appeared evil would prevail. Willow found momentary refuge at the side of a dumpster. She muttered the words of a dead language under her breath. Suddenly, a blinding green light burst from every pore of her body. Immediately, 700 demons burst into flames, leaving behind nothing but the remains of rotting flesh and blackened bones.
"Way to go, Will," a slayer named Joanne shouted just before running a rapier through the breast of a two-headed beastie wearing a nametag that said: HELLO! MY NAME IS DAVE (and Sue).
"I'm here to help," Willow said proudly. Suddenly her heart began pounding at an accelerated rate and the world around her faded. She gasped desperately for air, and then slumped to the ground.
Through it all, Buffy and Angel fought side by side, just as they had when Buffy was a high school student in Sunnydale. Angel watched anxiously as the numbers on both sides decreased. He realized if Buffy hadn't come, he and his small army would have been massacred within seconds and evil would have triumphed. He turned his attention momentarily to the slayer. Blood was running down her cheek, her hair was a tangled, sweaty mess, and it looked like she had broken several bones. But she continued standing tall, bound and determined, with her sword gripped firmly in her hands. In that moment, Angel never loved her more. Buffy returned Angel's look as a smile flickered on the corner of her lips. "Let's finish 'em off!"
-----
"What's for dinner?" Buffy asked as the last rays of sun faded from her face and night took over.
"Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches."
Buffy raised an eyebrow. Angel grinned sheepishly and said, "I said I was making dinner. I didn't say it was going to anything special."
"Believe me, if it's with you it's going to be special," Buffy said, taking Angel's hand into hers and leading him back toward their cottage. "Besides, I can think of some pretty interesting things we can do with peanut butter besides eating eat."
"You vixen!"
As they mounted the porch steps, Buffy turned and took one final gaze at the scene before her. The stars were twinkling high in the sky and the last bit of lavander and blue sunset was fading away. The waves crashed gently onto the shore and a flock of seagulls flew overhead, calling to each as they went. Buffy slipped the claddagh ring, which she had found earlier on the beach, onto her finger. The heart pointed towards her.
"It's perfect, isn't it?" Buffy asked.
"What is?"
"Everything. This place, it's so familiar, like I've been here before," Buffy said. "Maybe once in a dream?"
Angel put his arm around Buffy's shoulder, hugged her close, and kissed her on the cheek. "It's not a dream anymore."
"No," Buffy said contemplatively. She looked earnestly into Angel's eyes. "It's more than that. It's our happy ending." For the first time in many years, Buffy Summers was at peace.
-----
"NO!" She awoke with a start. It took several seconds for reality to settle in. Her vision was exceedingly fuzzy; she could only see splashes of pale blues and sickly greens. To her left was a small, steady beeping. The air lingered with the stench of ammonia. In the distance she could here a murmur of voices talking over each other, people asking for charts and medications and whether Mr. Johnson had gotten his sponge bath yet. As it turns out, he hadn't. She sat up in the stiff bed she had been laying in, with a pillow as rough as sandpaper and a blanket that was heavy like lead, and felt bile rise in her throat. She gagged as she lay back down. She put her hand to her cheek; the touch of her skin was excruciatingly hot.
"Perhaps you should wait a while before moving about. You need your rest," a familiar voice said softly.
"Giles?"
Though it hadn't registered with her earlier because of all the disorientation, she realized she was blind. She could feel tears begin to trickle down her burning cheeks, even as her breathing grew heavy and coarse. Giles gently took her hand into his and held it tightly. It offered little comfort, though enough to calm her down a bit.
"What happened?" she whispered through tears.
"The battle took a lot out of you. You've been in a coma for nearly two weeks," Giles explained. "The doctors weren't sure you'd make it."
"Two weeks? But I couldn't have been! No, no it's not fair! I was with..."
Giles hushed her and gently kissed her red cheek. Minutes passed as she mulled over what was happening. Was it possible that everything that she had experienced was a lie? That none if it had happened? Her heart sank to the pit of her stomach and she could feel her eyes burning with tears once again.
"The good news is you will more than likely regain your sight. I believe it was caused by a combination of extreme shock and the..."
"Did we win?" She asked, curtly cutting him off. "Did good kick evil's ass?"
"It was a close match, but I'd say we reigned victorious, yes."
"Where's everyone else?"
"I'm afraid I'm the only one here right now. I flew in the England the moment I heard what had happened to you. Xander will be here sometime this evening."
"And the rest?"
"Well," Giles started, sounding exhausted. "Most of the slayers who survived have returned to England to continue their training. Though there aren't going to be any more apocalypses, God willing, there is always going to be evil to fight and people to save."
Giles wasn't telling her what she wanted to know. Though she cared deeply for the slayers, and was saddened by the ones who died in the line of duty, she greatest concern rested with one person. A part of her already knew what had happened, had known even before she awoke from her coma, and though she hated herself, she needed confirmation. Taking a deep breath, she sat up in her bed and...
"Angel," Giles said, interrupting before she had a chance to speak. She stopped and listened intently. "Angel was a true champion. He fought bravely. But, in the end...." Giles paused for a moment, unable to find the right words. Finally, he simply said, "I'm afraid he's dead."
She couldn't believe it. It was like someone had knocked the all of the wind out of her. Tears fell freely from her eyes once again, a lump formed in the back of her throat, and her stomach became a mangle of twisted knots.
"All that remained was his claddagh ring..." Giles started saying, but his voice drifted off.
There was a long, awkward silence. Finally, it was time to ask the question that had been burning in her mind since before she woke up. While she cared for Angel, even he wasn't her greatest concern. She turned to where Giles was sitting and could vaguely make out his silhouette, slumped forward in his chair and breathing heavily.
"Giles," Willow asked. "What happened to Buffy?"
Giles said nothing - only broke into large, heaving sobs. Willow's heart stopped beating for a minute, even as the knots in her stomach tightened. She felt like screaming, like cursing at the world, like taking vengeance on everything evil... but instead she fell back onto her comfortless pillow and wept quietly. She knew here was nothing she could do that would bring her best friend back. There were no spells that would return her from death. Buffy and Angel were truly gone, and all Willow could do was grieve for them, which she did for the rest of her life.
The End
