Title: Always
Distribution: Anyone who has been given previous
permission for my fics, my archive this one as well. If you
don't have previous permission, ask before archiving. I'll
always say yes, I just like to know where my fic is.
Rating: R
Category: Story/Romance/Angst/Humor
Spoilers: All of the episodes up through Buffy's fourth season
and Angel's first season are in danger of being spoiled here.
Mostly general spoilers, but just beware they are in here.
Keywords: FutureFic
Couple Pairings: Major pairing will be Buffy/Angel, some
mentions of Buffy/Riley also.
Minor couples: Willow/Xander, Cordelia/Wesley
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Joss Whedon, the WB and
Fox. I intend no copyright infringement.
Summary: Twenty years from now, something happens which could bring
Buffy and Angel back together. But after everything that's happened,
does Buffy want Angel back?
Author's Notes: This fic takes place twenty years in the future.
Season Five of Buffy and Season Two of Angel as we now know it,
never happened, because I started this fic before those new episodes.
* * = thoughts. _ _ = emphasis = memory
***************
L.A.
Friday 5 pm
Angel, Cordelia, and Wesley dove into a nearby building as the
Scourge marched by.
"This can NOT be happening again," Cordelia said. She looked up at
the dark storm clouds, praying the storm would last until they could
get away from the direct sunlight the end of the rainstorm would
bring. "I'm getting too old for this, Angel," she insisted for not the
first time that day.
Angel looked over at Cordelia, thinking as he had several times throughout
the years that she was one of the few humans he'd met who seemed not to age.
Her dark brown hair was tied back in a pony tail, and she was wearing very anti-demon-slaying clothing, as usual. A black business suit, with a very
short skirt. Her face was relatively wrinkle free, for being forty, she
looked at least ten years younger, if not more, in Angel's opinion.
Other than the fact she currently sported the drowned-rat look, she looked
amazing as always. But he was nobody to judge that, they all had the
drowned-rat look at the moment.
He considered her mood. She was tired, but more than that, she was
obviously remembering the last time they'd gone against this particular
group of demons. Doyle's death was not something he and Cordelia had talked
about much over the last twenty years. Hell, not at all, really, in the last
nineteen. It was as if it were easier on both of them to pretend it hadn't
happened. And with Wesley around, things had slowly gotten back to the way they
were before Doyle died.
Angel knew that Cordy was afraid. Afraid of losing another member of
her family. He wished he could tell her that _wouldn't_ happen, but he didn't
want to turn out a liar. "Cordy, it'll be okay," he said, keeping
his statement vague enough so that it would probably end up true.
Probably.
Cordelia looked over at him. "Yeah, like I don't know what _that_ was
supposed to mean, Mister," she said, her eyes narrowed.
Angel couldn't help chuckling at her reaction. Cordelia had gotten to
know him so well, too well he thought at times. She heard what he didn't
say, as well as what he did. He'd learned how to read her too, though.
He didn't know what he would've done without Cordelia Chase or Wesley
Wyndham-Price in his life the past twenty years. They'd both kept him
from taking a walk in the sun more than once. Sometimes by use of
physical force.
"Hello, Broodboy, could you save it for later, please?" Cordelia
snapped him out of his thoughts with a well-timed barb.
Angel just smiled in reply to Cordelia's favorite nickname for him,
that had endured throughout the years. "So you two ready for this?"
he asked.
"Define 'this' again," Cordelia requested.
"I'll distract them from arming the weapon, and Wesley will destroy
it with this," Angel replied, holding up a semi-automatic, courtesy of
Charles Gunn. He handed the gun to Wesley, who looked none-too-happy
to be holding it.
"I'm getting too old for this," Wesley repeated Cordelia's earlier words.
"No you're not," Angel said firmly. He remembered then that Wesley
_was_ fifty years old. Maybe he _was_ getting too old for demon-fighting.
Angel said, "Wes, I'm sorry. I really don't think sometimes, but if you
don't think you're up to this--"
"No," Wesley cut him off. "I'm just whining. You should be used to
that by now," he added, self-deprecatingly.
Angel rolled his eyes, and said, "Fine. Can we go now?" wincing at
the fact that _he'd_ almost whined at that moment.
"What do I do again?" Cordelia asked with a frown.
"You help me distract them, but try not to get yourself in too much
trouble," Angel replied.
"And what if we can't stop them from arming it?" Cordelia questioned,
ignoring Angel's implication that she always got herself into trouble. It
wasn't always.... It was more like... sometimes.
Angel shrugged. "Let's just hope for the best." He ran off after the
Scourge, not giving her a chance to reply.
Cordelia muttered, "Great plan," as she and Wesley followed.
************
Sunnydale Cemetery # 10
Friday, 5 pm
Buffy walked up to the tombstone, and laid the bouquet of roses at
the grave. She knelt on the ground, and pulled on the hem of the skirt
of her black skirt. "Hey," she said. "So, nothing exciting the past
few days. I'm sorry I haven't been around, but I've been busy
with Willow and Xander's wedding last week. It was wonderful, I'm
glad they finally accepted what was meant to be. She never stopped
loving him, and his feelings didn't change either. I guess..." she
trailed off. She'd been about to add, "some loves never die," but
somehow that didn't seem appropriate given her history with love.
"Anyway, I should go," she shrugged. "I miss you, Riley. I know
sometimes you wondered, but I did love you. Still do." She sighed
sadly, and stood up. She made the short trip down the row to her
mother's gravestone.
"Hey, Mom. I wish that I'd made you leave this town for your own good
a long time ago. I would've liked to see you with white hair. Although
I never made you a grandmother anyway. I am sorry about that." she sighed.
"And I can hear you now, 'Now, Buffy. It's not your fault that a demon
came looking for you one day and found me instead.' Sure Mom. And I'm
strangely not comforted, regardless of that fact."
Fifteen years earlier.
Buffy had gone to visit her mother one Saturday.
"Mom?" Buffy walked into her house, and was hit by the smell of
death. "Oh no," she said, feeling the panic rise in her heart. "No."
She walked into the kitchen, and found her. Joyce's throat had been
slit, there was blood all over.
"NO!!!!!!!!"
Buffy winced at the memory of that day. "Oh, I didn't tell you; Xander
and Will got married finally. And I have the strange feeling that wouldn't
surprise you, would it?" she asked with a smile. "Didn't surprise me either,"
she shrugged. "Well, I gotta go. We're all getting together for dinner tonight."
She walked back to her house. She and Riley had gotten married a week
into her Junior year of college, shortly after her mother's death. They'd
had lived in this house ever since. She walked in, greeting the pet German
Shepherd, Jack, that Riley had nagged her into getting after they'd been
married for five years. Jack had served as the substitute child. Buffy
had wanted children, as had Riley, but they hadn't wanted to bring a baby
into the world that was theirs. Demons and imminent death was not a
healthy situation into which to introduce a child. So they'd put off the
baby. Now Buffy was glad they had. She wouldn't want to have a child without a
father. Her mom had done that, and while Buffy had admired her for it, she
also knew first-hand what it did to the kid.
Buffy wasn't surprised to see Giles already in her living room, sitting
on the couch. "Hey Giles," she said, throwing her purse on a coffee
table and sitting down next to him. "So Willow nominated you for
Buffy-duty today?" she teased, smiling over at him.
"I should think not," Giles said with a frown. "We all know you're
quite capable of taking care of yourself, Buffy. It's been a year."
Buffy wondered whether he meant "It's been a year, Buffy, we all know
you've gotten over it." Or, "It's been a year, Buffy, we don't expect
you to have gotten over it so soon."
Either way, she knew what event he was referring to. She'd lived it,
once in reality and a thousand times afterward in her nightmares
A year since Dawn, the girl everyone believed was Buffy's sister, had
betrayed them to the new Master Vampire, letting him into her and
Riley's house when she was visiting them. A year since Dawn's real
sister Tara had walked in and put a paralyzing spell on Buffy, so she
could do nothing more than watch as the Master Vamp tore Riley's
heart out and ate it. A year since something inside of Buffy had
snapped, and she'd discovered a power she didn't know she had. A
power that had helped her break loose of the spell. She'd flown at
the vampire, enraged at his daring to hurt the man she loved. She'd
beaten him to a bloody mess, and then staked him, feeling as if it
wasn't enough somehow. She'd gone to Riley, and held him until the
ambulance came, even though knowing that it was already too late.
Tara and Dawn had run off, hopefully never to be seen again, and
Buffy was grateful that Joyce hadn't lived to see what her
other "daughter" had done.
After the funeral, Buffy, Willow, Xander, and Giles had thrown
themselves into researching the mysterious Tara. Tara was a third-
generation wiccan, as she'd told Willow, but apparently had been more
obsessed with the black arts than was healthy. She'd made alliances
with several forces which had come up against Buffy over the years.
As best as they could tell, Tara had sent Dawn into their lives,
enchanting them to believe she was Buffy's sister. Her intent for
Dawn was most likely to do everything possible to undermine and ruin
Buffy's plans to defeat the evils of Sunnydale. And the more they
thought about all the ways Dawn had done just that, the more they
wondered that she hdn't been found out earlier. Buffy, for one,
wished she would've figured it out. Not doing so had cost Riley his
life.
With the arrival of the Master Vampire Michael, Tara and Dawn had
finally shown their true colors, though. He had probably promised
them power, wealth, blah blah blah. Either way, the result was the
same. Riley was dead, and Buffy was alone. Again.
One good thing had come out of it, though. It got Willow and Xander
back together finally. Willow had felt responsible for letting Tara
into their circle, after Riley's death. She'd blamed herself for all
of it. Buffy had tried, but hadn't had enough energy to help Willow
deal with her guilt. She'd been relieved when Xander had stepped in
as the best friend again. She had been surprised but not shocked when
they'd told her a week ago they were getting married. It had seemed
natural and meant to be. Anya had run off with Spike several years
earlier, to everyone's surprise, and Buffy was glad Xander finally
had someone who wouldn't hurt him in his life.
"I wish..." Buffy shook her head and stood up, moving to the kitchen.
Giles followed her.
"You wish what, Buffy?" he asked.
"Just feeling sorry for myself," she shrugged, as she started loading
the dishwasher. "It's pointless really. I was just going to say I
wish my life could have a happy ending like theirs."
"Your life is far from over," Giles protested. "You're only--"
Buffy silenced that sentence with a look. "I'm well aware of how old
I am, thank you," she glared at him. "Why are you still in Sunnydale,
Giles? Sometimes I think I should have let you go back to London,
where you'd be safer." Giles had celebrated his seventy-fifth
birthday a month ago. They'd thrown him a surprise party that he had
grumbled about, but she knew he'd enjoyed the attention nevertheless.
Buffy took a moment to look at him. He'd aged well, as she'd always
known he would. All grey haired and distinctive looking, as Willow
had put it not long ago. He'd never married, though. He and Olivia
had drifted apart many years ago, and he'd never tried again. Buffy
often regretted that he'd given so much of his life to her. She knew
he'd thought many times of leaving, but she'd always selfishly held
him with her in Sunnydale.
"I'm not old and useless yet," Giles replied with a frown.
"Hardly," Buffy said with a smile. "I just ... I don't want anything
to happen to you, Giles. You, Willow, and Xander, you're all I have
left." She turned back to the job at hand.
"Buffy, have you considered calling him?" Giles asked.
Buffy stopped dead. She knew who "him" was. The name nobody had dared
utter in her presence for twenty years. The only man she had ever
truly loved heart and soul. The only one to break her heart beyond
repair. She hadn't seen him since the night he'd come to Sunnydale
and tried to beat Riley up. Oh, sure, she knew it hadn't been his
intention, he'd originally come to "make things better."
She looked at Angel in thinly-harnessed fury. "Okay, I come to see
you, to help you, and you treat me like I'm just . . . your ex."
"Well, technically--" Angel started to reply.
"Shut up!" she screamed cutting him off. "And then you order me out
of *your* city and then you come here and start pounding on my
boyfriend?! I would really like to know, what the HELL are you trying
to do?!"
Angel looked at her sadly, before saying, "I was trying to make
things better."
Better. How much better could it have been, when he'd left her so she
could have her normal life? But it was so like Angel to try anything
he could to make things a little better. And not for him, because he
was convinced he deserved any pain he was in. He had come back to make
things better for Buffy. To let her know that he didn't hate her, no
matter what horrible things she'd said to him on her previous visit to
see him.
So Angel had come to her town, again, to apologize, even though she
wasn't sure what for. S
Somehow, they'd both realized that that night, that encounter, had to
be the last. Because it hurt too much to pretend they were friends,
when the truth was they weren't.
"Look," she said with a shrug. "You weren't entirely wrong, what
you said in L.A." She reluctantly looked over at him, not wanting to
meet those sad, brown eyes. "We don't live in each other's worlds
anymore. I had no right to barge in on yours and make judgments."
"I'm still sorry," Angel replied.
"Thank you," she said, attempting a smile.
"And, next time... I'll apologize by phone." Angel said.
"Promises, promises," Buffy sighed.
"I'm sorry?"
Buffy turned to look at Giles' confused expression. "Not important,"
she shrugged. "Of couse I've 'considered calling him,' she answered
his earlier question. "But what good would it do, Giles? 'Hey Angel,
I just wanted to let you know Riley's dead now. Oh, you still don't
want me? Okay, bye.'" She gave him an irritated look. "Thanks, but no
thanks."
"Buffy--"
"Don't," she turned away again. "There is _nothing_ to say that we
didn't say twenty years ago. He chose to leave, and I had to let him go.
I'm not going to ask him to come back; not when there's a chance he
would, out of pity. I don't want his pity. What I want, he could
never give me, and he still can't."
Giles didn't reply to that, because he knew she was right. He just
sighed and sat down at the table with her. Buffy was glad for the
company and more so for the lack of argument.
Distribution: Anyone who has been given previous
permission for my fics, my archive this one as well. If you
don't have previous permission, ask before archiving. I'll
always say yes, I just like to know where my fic is.
Rating: R
Category: Story/Romance/Angst/Humor
Spoilers: All of the episodes up through Buffy's fourth season
and Angel's first season are in danger of being spoiled here.
Mostly general spoilers, but just beware they are in here.
Keywords: FutureFic
Couple Pairings: Major pairing will be Buffy/Angel, some
mentions of Buffy/Riley also.
Minor couples: Willow/Xander, Cordelia/Wesley
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Joss Whedon, the WB and
Fox. I intend no copyright infringement.
Summary: Twenty years from now, something happens which could bring
Buffy and Angel back together. But after everything that's happened,
does Buffy want Angel back?
Author's Notes: This fic takes place twenty years in the future.
Season Five of Buffy and Season Two of Angel as we now know it,
never happened, because I started this fic before those new episodes.
* * = thoughts. _ _ = emphasis = memory
***************
L.A.
Friday 5 pm
Angel, Cordelia, and Wesley dove into a nearby building as the
Scourge marched by.
"This can NOT be happening again," Cordelia said. She looked up at
the dark storm clouds, praying the storm would last until they could
get away from the direct sunlight the end of the rainstorm would
bring. "I'm getting too old for this, Angel," she insisted for not the
first time that day.
Angel looked over at Cordelia, thinking as he had several times throughout
the years that she was one of the few humans he'd met who seemed not to age.
Her dark brown hair was tied back in a pony tail, and she was wearing very anti-demon-slaying clothing, as usual. A black business suit, with a very
short skirt. Her face was relatively wrinkle free, for being forty, she
looked at least ten years younger, if not more, in Angel's opinion.
Other than the fact she currently sported the drowned-rat look, she looked
amazing as always. But he was nobody to judge that, they all had the
drowned-rat look at the moment.
He considered her mood. She was tired, but more than that, she was
obviously remembering the last time they'd gone against this particular
group of demons. Doyle's death was not something he and Cordelia had talked
about much over the last twenty years. Hell, not at all, really, in the last
nineteen. It was as if it were easier on both of them to pretend it hadn't
happened. And with Wesley around, things had slowly gotten back to the way they
were before Doyle died.
Angel knew that Cordy was afraid. Afraid of losing another member of
her family. He wished he could tell her that _wouldn't_ happen, but he didn't
want to turn out a liar. "Cordy, it'll be okay," he said, keeping
his statement vague enough so that it would probably end up true.
Probably.
Cordelia looked over at him. "Yeah, like I don't know what _that_ was
supposed to mean, Mister," she said, her eyes narrowed.
Angel couldn't help chuckling at her reaction. Cordelia had gotten to
know him so well, too well he thought at times. She heard what he didn't
say, as well as what he did. He'd learned how to read her too, though.
He didn't know what he would've done without Cordelia Chase or Wesley
Wyndham-Price in his life the past twenty years. They'd both kept him
from taking a walk in the sun more than once. Sometimes by use of
physical force.
"Hello, Broodboy, could you save it for later, please?" Cordelia
snapped him out of his thoughts with a well-timed barb.
Angel just smiled in reply to Cordelia's favorite nickname for him,
that had endured throughout the years. "So you two ready for this?"
he asked.
"Define 'this' again," Cordelia requested.
"I'll distract them from arming the weapon, and Wesley will destroy
it with this," Angel replied, holding up a semi-automatic, courtesy of
Charles Gunn. He handed the gun to Wesley, who looked none-too-happy
to be holding it.
"I'm getting too old for this," Wesley repeated Cordelia's earlier words.
"No you're not," Angel said firmly. He remembered then that Wesley
_was_ fifty years old. Maybe he _was_ getting too old for demon-fighting.
Angel said, "Wes, I'm sorry. I really don't think sometimes, but if you
don't think you're up to this--"
"No," Wesley cut him off. "I'm just whining. You should be used to
that by now," he added, self-deprecatingly.
Angel rolled his eyes, and said, "Fine. Can we go now?" wincing at
the fact that _he'd_ almost whined at that moment.
"What do I do again?" Cordelia asked with a frown.
"You help me distract them, but try not to get yourself in too much
trouble," Angel replied.
"And what if we can't stop them from arming it?" Cordelia questioned,
ignoring Angel's implication that she always got herself into trouble. It
wasn't always.... It was more like... sometimes.
Angel shrugged. "Let's just hope for the best." He ran off after the
Scourge, not giving her a chance to reply.
Cordelia muttered, "Great plan," as she and Wesley followed.
************
Sunnydale Cemetery # 10
Friday, 5 pm
Buffy walked up to the tombstone, and laid the bouquet of roses at
the grave. She knelt on the ground, and pulled on the hem of the skirt
of her black skirt. "Hey," she said. "So, nothing exciting the past
few days. I'm sorry I haven't been around, but I've been busy
with Willow and Xander's wedding last week. It was wonderful, I'm
glad they finally accepted what was meant to be. She never stopped
loving him, and his feelings didn't change either. I guess..." she
trailed off. She'd been about to add, "some loves never die," but
somehow that didn't seem appropriate given her history with love.
"Anyway, I should go," she shrugged. "I miss you, Riley. I know
sometimes you wondered, but I did love you. Still do." She sighed
sadly, and stood up. She made the short trip down the row to her
mother's gravestone.
"Hey, Mom. I wish that I'd made you leave this town for your own good
a long time ago. I would've liked to see you with white hair. Although
I never made you a grandmother anyway. I am sorry about that." she sighed.
"And I can hear you now, 'Now, Buffy. It's not your fault that a demon
came looking for you one day and found me instead.' Sure Mom. And I'm
strangely not comforted, regardless of that fact."
Fifteen years earlier.
Buffy had gone to visit her mother one Saturday.
"Mom?" Buffy walked into her house, and was hit by the smell of
death. "Oh no," she said, feeling the panic rise in her heart. "No."
She walked into the kitchen, and found her. Joyce's throat had been
slit, there was blood all over.
"NO!!!!!!!!"
Buffy winced at the memory of that day. "Oh, I didn't tell you; Xander
and Will got married finally. And I have the strange feeling that wouldn't
surprise you, would it?" she asked with a smile. "Didn't surprise me either,"
she shrugged. "Well, I gotta go. We're all getting together for dinner tonight."
She walked back to her house. She and Riley had gotten married a week
into her Junior year of college, shortly after her mother's death. They'd
had lived in this house ever since. She walked in, greeting the pet German
Shepherd, Jack, that Riley had nagged her into getting after they'd been
married for five years. Jack had served as the substitute child. Buffy
had wanted children, as had Riley, but they hadn't wanted to bring a baby
into the world that was theirs. Demons and imminent death was not a
healthy situation into which to introduce a child. So they'd put off the
baby. Now Buffy was glad they had. She wouldn't want to have a child without a
father. Her mom had done that, and while Buffy had admired her for it, she
also knew first-hand what it did to the kid.
Buffy wasn't surprised to see Giles already in her living room, sitting
on the couch. "Hey Giles," she said, throwing her purse on a coffee
table and sitting down next to him. "So Willow nominated you for
Buffy-duty today?" she teased, smiling over at him.
"I should think not," Giles said with a frown. "We all know you're
quite capable of taking care of yourself, Buffy. It's been a year."
Buffy wondered whether he meant "It's been a year, Buffy, we all know
you've gotten over it." Or, "It's been a year, Buffy, we don't expect
you to have gotten over it so soon."
Either way, she knew what event he was referring to. She'd lived it,
once in reality and a thousand times afterward in her nightmares
A year since Dawn, the girl everyone believed was Buffy's sister, had
betrayed them to the new Master Vampire, letting him into her and
Riley's house when she was visiting them. A year since Dawn's real
sister Tara had walked in and put a paralyzing spell on Buffy, so she
could do nothing more than watch as the Master Vamp tore Riley's
heart out and ate it. A year since something inside of Buffy had
snapped, and she'd discovered a power she didn't know she had. A
power that had helped her break loose of the spell. She'd flown at
the vampire, enraged at his daring to hurt the man she loved. She'd
beaten him to a bloody mess, and then staked him, feeling as if it
wasn't enough somehow. She'd gone to Riley, and held him until the
ambulance came, even though knowing that it was already too late.
Tara and Dawn had run off, hopefully never to be seen again, and
Buffy was grateful that Joyce hadn't lived to see what her
other "daughter" had done.
After the funeral, Buffy, Willow, Xander, and Giles had thrown
themselves into researching the mysterious Tara. Tara was a third-
generation wiccan, as she'd told Willow, but apparently had been more
obsessed with the black arts than was healthy. She'd made alliances
with several forces which had come up against Buffy over the years.
As best as they could tell, Tara had sent Dawn into their lives,
enchanting them to believe she was Buffy's sister. Her intent for
Dawn was most likely to do everything possible to undermine and ruin
Buffy's plans to defeat the evils of Sunnydale. And the more they
thought about all the ways Dawn had done just that, the more they
wondered that she hdn't been found out earlier. Buffy, for one,
wished she would've figured it out. Not doing so had cost Riley his
life.
With the arrival of the Master Vampire Michael, Tara and Dawn had
finally shown their true colors, though. He had probably promised
them power, wealth, blah blah blah. Either way, the result was the
same. Riley was dead, and Buffy was alone. Again.
One good thing had come out of it, though. It got Willow and Xander
back together finally. Willow had felt responsible for letting Tara
into their circle, after Riley's death. She'd blamed herself for all
of it. Buffy had tried, but hadn't had enough energy to help Willow
deal with her guilt. She'd been relieved when Xander had stepped in
as the best friend again. She had been surprised but not shocked when
they'd told her a week ago they were getting married. It had seemed
natural and meant to be. Anya had run off with Spike several years
earlier, to everyone's surprise, and Buffy was glad Xander finally
had someone who wouldn't hurt him in his life.
"I wish..." Buffy shook her head and stood up, moving to the kitchen.
Giles followed her.
"You wish what, Buffy?" he asked.
"Just feeling sorry for myself," she shrugged, as she started loading
the dishwasher. "It's pointless really. I was just going to say I
wish my life could have a happy ending like theirs."
"Your life is far from over," Giles protested. "You're only--"
Buffy silenced that sentence with a look. "I'm well aware of how old
I am, thank you," she glared at him. "Why are you still in Sunnydale,
Giles? Sometimes I think I should have let you go back to London,
where you'd be safer." Giles had celebrated his seventy-fifth
birthday a month ago. They'd thrown him a surprise party that he had
grumbled about, but she knew he'd enjoyed the attention nevertheless.
Buffy took a moment to look at him. He'd aged well, as she'd always
known he would. All grey haired and distinctive looking, as Willow
had put it not long ago. He'd never married, though. He and Olivia
had drifted apart many years ago, and he'd never tried again. Buffy
often regretted that he'd given so much of his life to her. She knew
he'd thought many times of leaving, but she'd always selfishly held
him with her in Sunnydale.
"I'm not old and useless yet," Giles replied with a frown.
"Hardly," Buffy said with a smile. "I just ... I don't want anything
to happen to you, Giles. You, Willow, and Xander, you're all I have
left." She turned back to the job at hand.
"Buffy, have you considered calling him?" Giles asked.
Buffy stopped dead. She knew who "him" was. The name nobody had dared
utter in her presence for twenty years. The only man she had ever
truly loved heart and soul. The only one to break her heart beyond
repair. She hadn't seen him since the night he'd come to Sunnydale
and tried to beat Riley up. Oh, sure, she knew it hadn't been his
intention, he'd originally come to "make things better."
She looked at Angel in thinly-harnessed fury. "Okay, I come to see
you, to help you, and you treat me like I'm just . . . your ex."
"Well, technically--" Angel started to reply.
"Shut up!" she screamed cutting him off. "And then you order me out
of *your* city and then you come here and start pounding on my
boyfriend?! I would really like to know, what the HELL are you trying
to do?!"
Angel looked at her sadly, before saying, "I was trying to make
things better."
Better. How much better could it have been, when he'd left her so she
could have her normal life? But it was so like Angel to try anything
he could to make things a little better. And not for him, because he
was convinced he deserved any pain he was in. He had come back to make
things better for Buffy. To let her know that he didn't hate her, no
matter what horrible things she'd said to him on her previous visit to
see him.
So Angel had come to her town, again, to apologize, even though she
wasn't sure what for. S
Somehow, they'd both realized that that night, that encounter, had to
be the last. Because it hurt too much to pretend they were friends,
when the truth was they weren't.
"Look," she said with a shrug. "You weren't entirely wrong, what
you said in L.A." She reluctantly looked over at him, not wanting to
meet those sad, brown eyes. "We don't live in each other's worlds
anymore. I had no right to barge in on yours and make judgments."
"I'm still sorry," Angel replied.
"Thank you," she said, attempting a smile.
"And, next time... I'll apologize by phone." Angel said.
"Promises, promises," Buffy sighed.
"I'm sorry?"
Buffy turned to look at Giles' confused expression. "Not important,"
she shrugged. "Of couse I've 'considered calling him,' she answered
his earlier question. "But what good would it do, Giles? 'Hey Angel,
I just wanted to let you know Riley's dead now. Oh, you still don't
want me? Okay, bye.'" She gave him an irritated look. "Thanks, but no
thanks."
"Buffy--"
"Don't," she turned away again. "There is _nothing_ to say that we
didn't say twenty years ago. He chose to leave, and I had to let him go.
I'm not going to ask him to come back; not when there's a chance he
would, out of pity. I don't want his pity. What I want, he could
never give me, and he still can't."
Giles didn't reply to that, because he knew she was right. He just
sighed and sat down at the table with her. Buffy was glad for the
company and more so for the lack of argument.