Episode 6: Future's Epigraph

Guest Starring (sort of): Angel Coulby as Renée Blackwood

†

Friday, August 6, 2004

The Scoobies didn't think they'd ever had a busier summer. Whether by training newcomers, being trained, patrolling, sparring, or researching, everyone's time was almost always occupied. On top of that, Illogical Stop Sign went on a couple of tours that took them all over California, Xander and Renée got a couple of issues farther into their comic, and Dawn did enough online schoolwork to allow her to graduate from high school in December instead of May.

For Buffy and Willow, the part of the summer that was not taken up with training new Slayers and Watchers or helping to quell the refreshingly small number of supernatural disturbances that cropped up in the city and surrounding suburbs was spent giggling and poring over bridal magazines and wedding catalogues or trying to ask Alex, Faith, and Sam for advice. Since Alex's wedding could barely be considered more than an elopement, she wasn't particularly useful in these interrogations, and they somehow always managed to get the answering machine when they tried to contact Faith, even though Giles never had a problem reaching Wood for updates. Sam did give them a few pointers, but was far too busy with her impending entrance into graduate school to get overly chatty about it. Remembering who she had to thank that her husband wasn't on the front lines in the brutal never-ending war of his home dimension instead of playing gigs with Oz, Alex, and Cole, however, she did as much as she could.

Even though Willow had only suggested it in that initial moment of nearly unintelligible excitement when she learned of Buffy and Angel's engagement, they ultimately decided to have a joint ceremony after all. This was largely for convenience, since they were already planning to invite mostly the same people, and this way, their friends in Ohio would only have to make the trip once.

Angel and Oz were perfectly content to let Buffy and Willow plan the thing, and found themselves spending a lot more time hanging out elsewhere whenever their respective brides-to-be held their increasingly enthusiastic planning sessions. Having lived through the veritable nightmare that had been the planning stages of Xander and Anya's failed wedding, neither Buffy nor Willow was very eager for anything flashy or extravagant. Even so, it was a mark of how truly kindred their spirits were that the planning of the double wedding went as seamlessly as it did.

Buffy felt only a slight twinge of disappointment when she failed to contact her father despite what she considered to be quite a respectable effort to do so. His continued absence probably wouldn't have affected her even that much if it hadn't been for the willing presence of the Osbournes and Rosenbergs. But even if Hank Summers had put in an appearance, the privilege of giving Buffy away would have still fallen to Giles. More disappointing to both Buffy and Angel was the absence of Faith and Wood, who hadn't been able to leave Europe.

It was very fortunate for the inhabitants of the Hyperion that Ira and Sheila Rosenberg had decided to stay at a normal hotel, as this allowed them to carry on with their regular Watcher/Slayer training activities as usual. On the other hand, to the surprise of everyone but Oz, Thomas and Elaine Osbourne not only stayed at the Hyperion, but took the goings-on there perfectly in stride. In fact, their only reaction upon walking into the lobby (where several sparring matches were taking place, Laurel and Alex were sharpening axes by the counter, and Dawn, Cole, Christian, and Roger were researching demons around the coffee table) was to raise their eyebrows in casual interest before inquiring after their son and his fiancée.

The day of the wedding finally arrived, and the ceremony was held at a large gazebo in a park Buffy had gone to many times as a child, and took place in the middle of a beautiful sunny day. This was both in celebration of Angel being human and an easy way around the slight complication presented by Willow and Oz having a Jewish wedding and Buffy and Angel having a Catholic one. The color scheme was uncomplicated, with deep rosy crimson as the only major color besides the obvious black and white. Buffy's and Willow's dresses were simple and elegant, complementing each other well and neither outshining the other. Xander was Oz's best man, while Gunn was Angel's, and Connor, Cole, and Lorin were the other groomsmen, and Dawn was the maid of honor for both Buffy and Willow, with Renée, Anne, Alex, and Sam as the bridesmaids. Demonstrating that more than monosyllabic tendencies and unflappability were genetic, Oz's parents provided the music, with Thomas at a rented grand piano and Elaine on a violin that looked as if it had been in the family for a few generations. The front row of seats was left empty in honor of all of the family and friends with whom both couples would have liked to share the happy event, but could not. It was a long row.

The moment Giles and Ira led Buffy and Willow into view, at the far end of the aisle, Angel's and Oz's faces both cracked into rare enormous grins. The beautiful music swelled, and by the time the brides had been led all the way up the aisle, everyone in the wedding party and most of the guests were either beaming or crying, and all four of the main participants were doing both at once, each feeling overwhelmed that the thing they never thought they'd be lucky enough to have was actually happening. At long last, Buffy joined Angel before the priest and Willow stood next to Oz beneath the chuppah.

On more than one occasion while the vows—which were slightly complicated, as Father Morrow and Rabbi Yaskin, who seemed obstinately determined not to coordinate well, had to alternate with portions of each set of vows without cutting each other off—were exchanged, Sheila (who couldn't quite believe that her daughter was actually marrying a musician) could be heard making disgruntled comments about Oz and his parents, the odd names and lack of family members of the other couple, or why they would even want to do a joint wedding if they insisted on making it an interfaith ceremony. After the rings were exchanged and the guests were applauding, mazel tov-ing, and pelting rice at the newlyweds, the priest and rabbi actually broke into an argument, though this went unnoticed by most.

All in all, as well as the wedding went in spite of the minor mishaps of Sheila's lack of tact and the animosity between Father Morrow and Rabbi Yaskin, none of the participants were particularly sorry to have it over with. Still basking in the glow of the event, Buffy and Angel were so preoccupied with getting lost in each other's eyes that Xander asked them if they needed a map to get back to reality. Unfortunately for him, though they failed to notice that he had spoken at all, Renée had heard him clearly and hit him indignantly on the arm on their behalf. As she had slightly underestimated the amount of force that could go into a light smack if Slayer strength was involved, this was no laughing matter.

†

Feeling slightly guilty for doing all of the planning themselves, Buffy and Willow had left the honeymoon plans to the guys. However, they found that they regretted this decision when Angel and Oz led them to the international passengers line at LAX.

Unable to bear her curiosity any longer, Buffy turned to Angel and put on her most irresistible imploring tone. "Where are we going?" she asked.

Angel smirked. "Remember when you wanted it to be a surprise?" he said.

Buffy pouted.

"You're not gonna tell me where we're going either, are you?" asked Willow.

"Nope," said Oz.

"You could always try that mind-reading thing on them, Wil," said Buffy hopefully.

"That only works if they're thinking at me. And, besides, it's cheating," she said.

"I guess we'll just have to seduce it out of them, then."

"Whoa, Buff, save that for the honeymoon suite. Some of us have delicate eyes. Or, in my case, delicate eye."

Buffy, Angel, Willow, and Oz all turned to see, to their bemusement, that Xander, Renée, Giles, Connor, and Dawn had all gotten in line behind them, each tugging suitcases just as large as theirs. "Um, not that I don't love you all, but what are you doing here? Because you can't come with us," said Buffy, latching onto Angel in a blatantly possessive manner and glaring suspiciously at them.

"Who said we're going with you?" asked Dawn, looking revolted.

"Huh?" said Willow.

"Well," she said, a little impatiently, "since I helped out so much with the wedding, I thought I deserved to go on a trip too. Look out, London, here I come."

"Connor?" asked Angel.

"Oh, I'm going with her," he said, holding up their clasped hands and shrugging. "Have to write a big paper on a museum for my summer history project, and I'm pretty sure the British Museum is my best bet for getting an A on that."

"And who better to have along as chaperone and tour guide than the former curator," said Giles unenthusiastically.

"Aw, cheer up, Giles, you're getting a trip home out of this!" said Dawn, prodding Giles in the ribs. He gave a slightly pained smile.

"Okay," said Buffy, still feeling a little wrong-footed. "What about you?" she asked, turning to Xander and Renée.

"We're going to visit my family," said Renée brightly. "I havnae seen them since November, and this seems like a good opportunity for Xander to meet them."

Xander offered his trademark goofy grin as confirmation.

"But who's gonna look after the hotel and be in charge of the Slayers and Watchers-in-training?" asked Willow, confused.

"Gunn and Anne," said Xander. "And they'll probably be getting help from Alex and Cole, since it's not like there'll be any band gigs while you've got Oz elsewhere."

"Oh. Well, I…guess that's okay."

"NEXT," barked a sleep-deprived and very irritable woman from behind the counter. She seemed to have been attempting to get their attention for at least half of the conversation. Willow jumped, and she and Oz quickly pulled their suitcases forward.

†

Even though Buffy was still determined to figure out where she and Angel were going before they got there, she failed over and over to get the destination out of him. The departure boards were no help either, nor was the pilot when they boarded the plane, because for all she knew, Heathrow in London would only be a layover.

It was a very long flight. They spent the first two hours of it watching Van Helsing. Even though they liked the film, which they'd already seen once, they spent much of the movie irritating the passengers in the rows around them with annoyed comments about the real Dracula. As close together as they could get in their seats, they then slept right through the stop at JFK International and didn't wake up until an hour and a half after they'd left North America behind. Shortly thereafter, Buffy surprised Angel by pulling Sonnets from the Portuguese out of her carry-on.

"I lost count of how many times I've read this since you gave it to me," she said softly. "But I've been waiting until today…." She pressed the book into his hands and looked up at him. "Read it to me?"

Angel smiled and nodded, wrapping his arm around her. They both felt the elegantly scripted "Always" tug at their hearts when he thumbed past the title page, and then he was reading the first sonnet, his lips brushing against her hair and his voice barely above a whisper. Everything outside of their little intimate sphere seemed to fall away, and Buffy got lost in his voice and the lyrical words and the fact that they were really, finally, getting their always. It struck her, as it often did, how much each poem seemed to hold part of their story. The resemblance was so uncanny in places that she privately suspected that Elizabeth Barrett Browning must have been a seer or something. When Angel turned the page to start the third-to-last sonnet, Buffy snuggled even closer to him. "This one's my favorite right now," she said.

"Mine too," he agreed. He pressed a kiss to the side of her head and read:

"My future will not copy fair my past—
I wrote that once; and thinking at my side
My ministering life-angel justified
The word by his appealing look upcast
To the white throne of God, I turned at last,
And there, instead, saw thee, not unallied
To angels in thy soul! Then I, long tried
By natural ills, received the comfort fast,
While budding, at thy sight, my pilgrim's staff
Gave out green leaves with morning dews impearled.
I seek no copy now of life's first half:
Leave here the pages with long musing curled,
And write me new my future's epigraph,
New angel mine, unhoped for in the world!"

†

Willow was having difficulty communicating her delight via intelligible speech. Mostly, she just squeaked, giggled, and hugged Oz very tightly.

"I take it that Mrs. Osbourne approves," he said, his eyes twinkling. Being referred to as "Mrs. Osbourne" sent Willow into another round of incomprehensible giggles. Oz waited calmly for them to subside, his outer appearance belying his inner jubilation.

"We-we're going to Istanbul? Really?" she asked. Her voice was so high-pitched from excitement that Oz wondered whether he'd have been able to hear it without his werewolf senses.

"Really."

†

At last, when they switched planes at Heathrow, Buffy discovered their destination. "Okay, you get some serious points for sneaky on this one, since it should have been really obvious," she said.

Angel grinned. Galway. As Liam, he had always wanted to get away from the confines of his hometown. That was probably why, as Angelus, he had left the place in bloody ruin and never looked back. When he was cursed with his soul, part of him had longed for the comfort of home, but home was one comfort on a list of many that he had felt he didn't deserve. It was a home he had merrily destroyed, after all, and surely it would not want him back. But now that Angel was human again, it felt right, and it was something he wanted to share with Buffy.

But somehow, he realized as they left the smaller airport in Galway, he hadn't quite anticipated how much the city would have changed over two and a half centuries. Apart from the landscape, part of the street layout, and a scant few buildings (which had been remodeled), Galway was as foreign to Angel as it was to Buffy.

†

"So, anything I should know about your folks before I actually meet them?" asked Xander, feeling nervous. Neither of his previous girlfriends had introduced him to their parents (not that it would have been possible in Anya's case), and being several thousand miles farther from home than he'd ever been hardly took the edge off the stress. He and Renée were in a small suburb of Glasgow, Scotland, walking up the front path of a quaint house with a slightly overgrown garden and chipped paint around the windows and door.

"Oh, you willnae just be meeting my parents," she said cheerfully. "My brothers are all still home for the summer." She reached out to grasp the doorknob and paused thoughtfully. "I suppose I should warn you that they're all a wee bit boisterous. But that shouldnae be too different from the hotel or the academy, right? And dinnae say anything about the slaying. They just think I've been off to university in America."

"Okay," said Xander. She beamed at him, pulled the door open, and dashed inside with all the giddiness of a kid on Christmas morning.

"Mum! Dad! I'm home!" she called. A plump, rather fierce-looking middle-aged woman who was about half a head shorter than Renée and whose frizzy red hair was escaping from the bun on top of her head appeared in the hall a split-second later.

"There's me little giglet!" she cried, her eyes brimming with tears as she bustled forward and threw her arms around her adopted daughter. "Oh, how we've missed you!"

"I've missed you too," said Renée, hugging her back tightly. "Where's everybody else?"

"In the kitchen. We were just getting to crowdie-time, and then the boys were going to go have a game of shinty. What've you been eating over there? You're getting far too thin! And your hair's gotten longer! But, ooh, who's this you've brought with you?"

"Xander Harris, Mrs. Blackwood," said Xander. Her heavily freckled face lit up with recognition.

"Oh, Renée's told us so much about you! And don't you just look every part the admirable young man she described."

"I'm admirable?" he asked, looking surprised but comically happy. "You told them I'm admirable?"

Renée grinned and was about to reply when her mother spoke again. "What are we doing in the hall? Come on, or the food'll be getting stone cold—or more likely eaten by your brothers," she said. Very eager to fill their stomachs with something other than airline food, Xander and Renée followed her to where the kitchen was located at the back of the house. Halfway there, when they could hear voices and the clattering of cutlery on plates, she turned and said over her shoulder, "Oh, and after breakfast, I'll show you where you can put your bags, Xander. We dinnae have a spare room, so you'll have to kip with Ian and Roy while you're here."

They entered the kitchen, where Logan, Aidan, Craig, Ian, and Roy Blackwood where all eating porridge and toast with marmalade and laughing raucously at something one of them had said. For Xander, it was a bit like walking into a room full of modernly dressed, short-haired Vikings—particularly when their entrance caused all five of the large and burly men to jump up with loud cries of welcome and dash towards Renée, who promptly disappeared in the middle of a group hug. The next thing Xander knew, he was being pounded genially on the back by each of them with such force that he nearly fell over.

†

Though Giles would much rather have checked them all into a hotel and slept off his jet-lag, Connor and Dawn were much too keen to explore London to humor him, so they merely dropped their luggage off at the place they would be staying (where, on Buffy and Angel's orders, Connor and Dawn had separate rooms) and went back out. The first time they caught sight of a Routemaster double-decker bus, Dawn actually shrieked with glee and went sprinting after it. She and Connor reached it while it was still stopped, and even though it was already moving by the time Giles got to it, he grabbed the pole and hoisted himself on board with the ease of many years of practice.

They didn't even go near the British Museum for the entire first day. Instead, they went to the Buckingham Palace. Giles instantly regretted this, as they had no sooner arrived than Connor and Dawn began attempting to get one of the guards to crack. They used a variety of inventive methods that included pulling ridiculous faces and (to Giles's horror) making out as loudly and obnoxiously as they could in front of him, but his face remained sternly impassive the entire time. Giles offered the man an apologetic and exasperated glance before shooing the insufferable pair away.

Things did not get any more dignified over the course of the afternoon, as Connor and Dawn had taken to reenacting the "Ministry of Silly Walks" sketch every time they had to travel from one attraction to the next on foot. Though Giles frequently winced when passers-by caught sight of these antics, once, when he thought nobody was looking, his gait became remarkably similar to La Marche Futile…

†

It took a few days for Angel to get his bearings in modern Galway—his progress in that area not exactly helped by the fact that he and Buffy had rather better things to be doing on their honeymoon—but he did eventually find what he was looking for, feeling both relieved that it still existed and somber about what he knew was buried there.

"I thought our graveyard date phase was behind us," Buffy said lightly as Angel led her carefully past a few crumbling old Celtic cross grave markers towards a cluster of much older headstones that had eroded almost down to their bases.

"Not quite," he said.

"Well, it's got a way better view than any of the Sunnydale ones, that's for sure," said Buffy, looking past the graves to where the grassy hills swept down to a rocky beach, and then out across Galway Bay to the barely visible northern coast of the Burren. Angel smiled knowingly. It truly was a breathtaking sight, and he paused a moment to appreciate it before moving very slowly on through the oldest graves in the cemetery. A moment later, he stopped.

Buffy moved over to join him and saw that he was standing in front of three especially crumbled and weather-beaten headstones that were slightly removed from the rest and almost completely covered in dark green moss. She watched him bend down and silently begin tugging the offending growth away from the old stone. He kept going until all of the moss was gone, even though nothing remained of the original lettering on the headstones beneath.

"Your family," said Buffy quietly as Angel was clearing the last of it away.

"It's been a long time since my last visit." He stood up, and Buffy saw that his expression had darkened. "The people who buried them had driven crosses into the ground all around the graves and piled about half a crop's worth of garlic on top because they thought they'd rise again. I couldn't get any closer than the Lynch plot. Thankfully." Buffy gently touched his hand, which slowly uncurled from the fist it had formed, then closed again around her fingers. It was her turn to do this for him.

"You saw the sketches I did of each of them. You asked why my father looks so stern and disappointed in his, and why my mother looks sad in hers. Those were expressions I remember best from them. They were ashamed of me, and I taunted them with that before I killed them."

"We didn't just come halfway around the world so you could brood some more, did we?"

"No," he said, chuckling.

"To say goodbye?"

"No. To start over." His grip on her hand grew stronger, and she smiled.

†

There was so much to see in Istanbul. Which was why Willow thought they should actually see some of it before they left. Oz reentered the hotel room pushing a breakfast cart and bearing a sheaf of tourist brochures. "So…Hagia Sophia, obelisk, or aqueducts?" he asked, holding up three of the brochures and splaying them out like a hand of cards.

"Hagia Sophia, please. But, breakfast first."

"Good plan."

Over a breakfast of su böregi, lentil soup, and orange juice, they planned out their day of sight-seeing. It was lucky that Oz was there to be the cool, schedule-oriented one, because Willow still hadn't quite gotten over the fact that she was in the only city in the world that was on two continents. And it had been the capital of four empires. Of all foreign locations, Istanbul was the one she'd wanted to visit most since the age of five, so she was somewhat prone to overexcitability.

Oz, who had reached the point at which his emotions could not be barred from showing on his face during the wedding ceremony, had since gone past it so far that expressions couldn't do justice to the joy he felt, so it was easiest to act as detached as he usually did.

†

Dawn grabbed Connor by the arm and pulled sideways so that the degree to which he was absorbed in his notes wouldn't cause him to walk into a pillar on the way out of the Museum.

"What?" he said distractedly. "Oh, thanks."

"Get everything you needed?"

"Yeah," he said smugly, flipping through all the pages of notes he'd taken that morning. "In spades."

"Excellent," said Giles.

"Why excellent?" asked Dawn.

"I'm not only here to babysit the two of you, you know."

"You're not?" they asked together, surprised.

"No," said Giles indignantly. "It just so happens that I've got a bit of Council business to attend to as well. I've found multiple references in the Watcher Diaries to a sort of, erm, archive on paranormal history, magics, dimensions, and so forth. In my years with the original Council prior to being assigned as Buffy's Watcher, I spent a great deal of time in the Council headquarters here in London, and the library there, though extensive, didn't quite match these descriptions. I thought we might go poking about the site of the building—they've built over it by now, surely, but there might still be something that points to this, er, archive." He looked at their unenthusiastic expressions and added, "Not to mention that a certain Slayer and former principal with whom we are acquainted are currently living in town and merit a visit."

"Faith and Wood?" asked Dawn, perking up. "They're here? I thought they'd be in, like, the Ukraine by now. They're really here?"

"Apparently, yes."

"Faith…," said Connor, his brow furrowed as he sifted through two sets of memories to where that name was familiar, "the Slayer Wesley busted out of prison to help when my father lost his soul?"

"You met Faith?" said Dawn, surprised.

"Yeah. Got to know her fists pretty well, too. Kinda got on her bad side."

Dawn snickered. "Not a fun place to be. But, at least she doesn't remember that anymore, right? And she's mostly only good side now."

"Yes, well, while you two were, erm, frolicking about on the London Bridge yesterday, I gave them a ring, and they've invited us to their apartment for lunch today. Well, for takeout, at any rate."

Twenty minutes later, they were at the buzzer to Faith and Wood's apartment complex, then almost ran into the takeout delivery guy on the way up.

"It's open!" came Wood's voice through the door, and they entered. It was a nice apartment containing very few objects that didn't serve a functional purpose. Rather than creating a barren sort of environment, the lack of decoration lent the space a bright, simple openness that felt very pleasant and welcoming—which probably had something to do with its very large windows. Wood greeted them just across the threshold, and shook hands with Giles and Dawn. "It's great to see you again, Rupert, Dawn, and…," he turned to Connor with a questioning look.

"Connor Reilly," he supplied, and they shook hands. To Connor's relief, Wood didn't seem to require anything else by way of an introduction, which saved him the trouble of trying to summarize his complicated pasts in the amount of time it took to complete a handshake.

"Americans! Thank God." Faith had joined them in the living room. "No offense, Giles, I think the Queen's English is great and all, but it's nice to hear the native tongue for a change." Wood chuckled, but none of the newcomers replied. They were all distracted by the slight rounded bulge of her stomach beneath her dark tank top. Noticing where they were all looking, she coughed loudly, which brought their eyes back to her face. "Uh, yeah, looks like Robin and I got kinda carried away with the celebrating after the battle against the First's zombies. Didn't figure it out until a gang of vamps put me in the hospital with a few broken ribs—but not before I sent them to dustville." She smirked in satisfaction.

"Congratulations!" said Dawn, grinning broadly.

"When are you due?" asked Giles.

"December," she said.

"Oh," said Dawn, her eyes widening, "is that why you're in London instead of questing all across the continent?"

"Yeah…looks like we get to take a hiatus from that," said Faith, who was apparently slightly annoyed by this. They moved over to sit around the coffee table, and Wood passed everyone a takeout carton. Starving from their morning explorations, Connor and Dawn immediately dug in.

"We're still conducting the search, but the girls we found first and trained the longest are the ones actually doing the searching at the moment," said Wood. "New Slayers have been easier to find since Willow put up that website." Giles's face twitched almost imperceptibly at this, but he chose not to comment. Wood turned to Dawn. "And how've you been doing in school, Dawn?" Dawn struggled to swallow the large amount of chow mein she had just put in her mouth so she could answer. "Sorry—principal mode is a little hard to turn off completely."

"Tell me about it," said Faith. "He's been helping me study to get my GED."

"That's wonderful!" said Giles.

"Yeah, and a pain. According to the fake ID Angel and Wes gave me, I'm a high school graduate, so I don't really see the point."

"It's only because I love you," said Wood, wrapping an arm around her and grinning.

"That'd better be what it is, 'cause otherwise you'll be getting that number two pencil up your—"

Wood coughed loudly, but looked more amused than alarmed.

†

Willow and Oz's day of touring, which had included visits to the Hagia Sophia, the Galata Tower, and the ancient aqueducts, was drawing to a close. They walked towards the Obelisk of Theodosius, looking up with keen interest at the Egyptian symbols carved into the sides. But the closer they got, the more Willow felt the hairs rising on the back of her neck.

"What's up?" asked Oz.

"I'm not sure," said Willow, frowning. "Weird vibes or something." Curious, but very apprehensive, she kept moving towards it, Oz at her side. By the time they reached the elaborate fence barrier at the base, her senses were nearly overwhelmed. She could barely hear the everyday sounds of their surroundings for the strange, low-pitched siren that vibrated through her whole body, her mouth and nose were filled with an unpleasant, bitter tang, and her skin prickled at the presence of the unknown energy.

"Don't you feel that?" she asked.

"Feel what?"

"I don't know. I can't tell if it's coming from the Obelisk or the ground it's on." She backed several steps away, until the pull on her senses was more tolerable. "Whatever it is, I don't think it's good."

"Magic?" Oz hadn't detected anything whatsoever from the ancient monument, so that seemed like the logical answer.

"Maybe. Not like any magic I've ever experienced, if that's what it is."

†

Buffy's eyes flew open. Her heart was racing, and a cold sweat had broken out across her face and neck. It took her a few seconds to realize that she'd been asleep, and that the warm bulk partially wrapped around her was Angel. She'd been having a dream about…about…what? It had been so vivid, but no matter how hard she concentrated, she couldn't remember it. She tried to swallow, but her throat felt like it was full of cotton balls.

Carefully, she scooted out of Angel's unconscious embrace and off the bed. After groping blindly for a few seconds, she located her discarded dressing gown lying on the floor and pulled it on, then felt her way towards the desk, where she knew she'd left her water bottle. She clicked the small desk light on and, while she gulped down the remaining contents of the water bottle, noticed that Angel's sketchbook was still sitting open to the page with the sketch of his father. Her fingers hovered over the lines that formed the eyes, the nose, the mouth. She thought back to what Angel had said when they visited the graveyard, and she looked from his peacefully sleeping form to the sketch and back again before making up her mind.

A few minutes after she had dressed and departed, Angel stirred and noticed the distinct lack of Buffy, who was neither in the bed next to him nor anywhere else in the room. Seeing that the desk lamp was lit, he pulled on a pair of sweatpants and walked over to the desk, where he found the open sketchbook.

†

Buffy walked slowly through the old cemetery until she arrived once more at the remnants of the three grave markers. She bent down and placed white roses at the middle and left ones, before turning to the one on the right. "Hey," she said quietly, not wanting to disrupt the peaceful stillness of the place. "Thought I'd get some quality time with my father-in-law." She paused for a moment, becoming much more serious.

"Angel told me about you. Showed me a drawing. He said you were ashamed of him. That you saw him as a disappointment. And that you were right to. So I just wanted to tell you that you can be proud of him now. He's the best man I've ever known. Kind, selfless, honest—a whole lot of people owe him their lives, myself included. I've seen him with his son and know I couldn't ask for a better father for my future children. I love him with all of my heart, and I thank God every day that I have him in my life, and that after everything we've been through, I'll finally get to spend the rest of it with him." She gently laid the third rose down before the headstone, her eyes sparkling with emotion, and her lips stretched in a slight smile. She shook herself a little, and returned to the lighter attitude she had started with, her smile becoming a smirk. "And you don't have to worry. I'll take good care of him."

"I'd be more worried about taking care of myself if I were you," said a voice from behind her. She jumped and whirled around. Four vampires were standing there, eyeing her predatorily.

"Oh, I can do that too," she replied. She may not have been able to bring the Scythe across the pond with her, but she did have Mr. Pointy.

"We were counting on that, Slayer," said a tall, blond vampire who was probably the leader.

†

Rather late at night, once she and Oz were back at the hotel, Willow immediately pulled out her laptop and made a virtual B line to the Council forum. There, after posting what had happened at the Obelisk in the "Investigate Further" category, she was distracted by what was going on in the chat box on the side of the screen.

ViolentViolets42: Exaggeration, much?

Chosen1_395: u never fought NEthing that bad, lol, n00b.

WatcherDalton007: You lie, Padawan. And I believe it is you who is the n00b here.

ViolentViolets42: Yeah, guess again, rookie. I was in both battles against the First, I've been patrolling five out of seven nights a week for a year and a half, and I'm in charge of the academy in Cleveland.

Chosen1_395: ya rite. ur making that up cuz its a chatroom.

WatcherDalton007: Respect the XP! We've been doing this longer than you. In fact, I was even born and raised in Sunnydale!

[PEZ_witch has signed on]

Chosen1_395: watevr

PEZ_witch: This is a chat room where you can only discuss legitimate slaying/Council stuff. And not in chatspeak.

ViolentViolets42: That's what I've been trying to tell her! (Also, hi, Willow! ^_^)

PEZ_witch: Hey, Vi. How's Canada, Andrew?

WatcherDalton007: It would probably be much better if I'd known beforehand that people speak French here.

PEZ_witch: That's mostly only in Quebec. And haven't you found a French Canadian Slayer to help you out with that?

WatcherDalton007: Well, yeah, but whenever I try to get her to translate something I'm saying, she just laughs at me!

ViolentViolets42: Gee, I wonder why she'd do that.

Chosen1_395: no way, ur not willow. u cant boss me arond.

WatcherDalton007: Silence, imbecile! (…That was French, btw.)

ViolentViolets42: She's the reason you're even a Slayer, you disrespectful, illiterate moron!

Oz moved over to join Willow at her computer and noticed her heavy scowl. With a small smirk, he leaned closer and began to trail kisses upward from the base of her neck. Gasping in surprise and her eyelids fluttering closed, Willow's fingers stopped typing her annoyed reply. She turned her head and captured his lips with hers, her arms moving to wrap around him. She didn't even notice when his hands glanced briefly over the keyboard before twining through her hair.

PEZ_witch: Sorry, busy now.

[PEZ_witch has signed off]

†

"Told ye we'd find another one if we looked outside of England. How much d'ye think this one'll fetch us?" said a vampire whose hair was dyed an obnoxious shade of orange. They were slowly spreading out, obviously intending to surround Buffy.

"Five thousand quid, easy," said the short one who had spoken first.

"Yeah, but only if they don't notice she's already been marked. Don't reckon they'll be generous about used goods," said the fourth in a deep growling voice, his yellow eyes fixed on the silvery scar at the base of her neck.

"Means she'll last a while, though, if she's survived it before. Could boost the commission, if anything."

"Okay, there's obviously been a misunderstanding," said Buffy, who was very annoyed that they'd interrupted her private moment with Angel's family's graves. "'She' is standing right here and also is not for sale."

The first vampire lunged forward, but, as Buffy had only been pretending not to notice him sneaking around behind her, this only served to put him in range of her fist, which connected solidly with his nose. Spinning quickly, she grabbed him by the shoulders and jerked downward while bringing her knee up harshly to ram into his gut.

She was about to deliver the coup de grâce with Mr. Pointy when the orange-haired one and the blond caught hold of her arms and held her trapped in their grips. She kicked out fiercely, catching the first one, who was struggling to his feet, under the chin. His head whipped back unnaturally far, and he toppled over again, but she still couldn't get free of the other two. They wheeled her around to face the fourth, who was pulling out what appeared to be a syringe.

Before he could come so much as two steps closer, however, he let out a roar of pain and went rigid, dropping the needle and exploding into dust.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" asked Angel.

"Nope. Brownie points for dramatic timing, though," grunted Buffy as she rammed her shoulder into the chest of the blond vampire on her right, successfully throwing him off-balance enough that his grip loosened. She tore her arm free and drove Mr. Pointy through the heart of the orange-haired one, then quickly dispatched the blond as well. Rotating Mr. Pointy in her right hand, she turned to glare at the first vampire, who was still curled on the ground. Her kick seemed to have broken his neck. With her free hand, she seized him by the throat and pulled him up roughly, so that his feet dangled an inch or two off the ground. He let out a strangled cry of agony, which Buffy ignored.

"You really could have thought this through better, you know," she said pleasantly. "But since you didn't, this is the part where you get to answer my questions."

"Like 'what's in this?' for one," suggested Angel, holding up the syringe. The vampire didn't reply, and Buffy slammed her knee into his stomach again. He groaned loudly.

"It's a sedative," he said hoarsely. "We were supposed to get you unconscious and undamaged to London."

"What's in London?" asked Buffy, her eyes narrowing. The vampire began to laugh maniacally. Apparently he hadn't been paralyzed when she broke his neck, because he suddenly grabbed Mr. Pointy from her and plunged it into his own chest.

"Now doesn't that just bode all kinds of ill," said Angel. He and Buffy exchanged an unnerved glance.

"I guess the honeymoon's over," Buffy quipped unhappily as she retrieved Mr. Pointy from the pile of ashes at her feet.

"Time to get back to work," Angel concurred with equal grimness.

So, yeah, this one was pretty much heaping portions of silly multicultural fun (which took FOREVER to research, since the only time I've ever been outside the continental US was before I could walk, and that wasn't even a trip to Europe anyway), hardcore shipper stuff, and just a dash of foreshadowing. I realize that there were only three episodes between Willow and Oz's engagement and their wedding and only one between Buffy and Angel's, but what I've got planned for the rest of the season is on a fairly rigid timeline, and honeymoons were the only way I could get everyone where they needed to be. Also, it's not like it was hasty of them to get married after two to four months of being engaged, since their relationships started in the first two seasons. My thinking is that they already know they want to spend the rest of their lives together, and waiting tends to invite trouble, so why wait? So, apart from the fairly monumental Buffy/Angel and Willow/Oz weddings (and the fact that they actually successfully happened), we've got the reveal that Faith is pregnant, something sinister is going on in London, and there's something very not right with a certain ancient tourist attraction in Istanbul. Also, I do plan to have more scenes with Xander at Renée's house. I just thought that too much of that at the same time as the Buffy/Angel, Willow/Oz, and Giles, Dawn, and Connor stuff would have fragmented the episode (which was already fragmented) too much. Oh, and once again with the Sonnets from the Portuguese stuff. But seriously, if you read those poems closely enough, EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM can be interpreted as a metaphor (and very thinly veiled at times) for a Buffy/Angel scene. In fact, the idea caught hold of me so tightly that I went Photoshop-crazy and made desktops for all forty-four sonnets, with pictures from those scenes. I have posted these on my deviantart page, which is where the homepage link goes to on my profile, if you want to see them.