Part II
Underground Sunnydale, May, 2017
Angel mopped his brow and stood to survey the land he tended. They learned more every season about growing underground... and the crops showed it. His seeds were planted and watered, and in a few months there would be corn, wheat, and cotton in these fields, for as far as the eye could see. Long, thick rows of living things he had raised with his bare hands...
For the first time in his considerable life, there was nothing around him that Angel wasn't proud to be a part of.
He could feel the sun begin to set behind him - a talent he hadn't lost, although this sun was artificial... Now it was his cue to quit for the day and go to dinner.
Angel had to give up tea time, during planting season. His schedule ran from dawn to dusk when there was so much to do. Willow and the kids understood, and knew they could always count on the fact that he would spend the rest of the evening with them, once the work was done.
It was a good life. He had friends who cared about him, responsibilities to fulfill, a home...He was respected in the community for his service and hard work, and most of all, he was needed.
As he walked back to the house, Angel thought about how far he'd come... all the many roles he had played over the years... from the bottom of the demon barrel to the top of the human world... at least, top of the underground.
And now he was a father, too. Jeremy and Rhea had adopted him immediately, and taken it upon themselves to teach him everything there was to know about being a child... and a role model... Feelings he had long since forgotten...
In all of his fondest dreams, he never considered the possibility that he might, someday, have a family to raise. And yet, there they were. Sweet, brilliant, fantastic, beautiful children -- Buffy's children. Every time he looked at them, he could see her... Jeremy was full of her mischievous streak and had her whip-like, sardonic humor. Rhea was like her physical carbon copy, complete with the twinkle in her eye and the full-faced smile.
Angel loved them with all of his heart, and in a way, he felt that showing his love for the children was a way to continue to show his love for her.
Some part of him still believed she would come back. After four years, the official hope was beginning to diminish, and the raids seemed less like a search for P.O.W.'s, and more like busy work for the Black Ops teams.
The Demon Forces were laying low, these days. No new attacks in over a year, even on the psychic plane. They seemed to pull farther and farther back every day, toward the north or the far south, depending on their temperature preference. There was talk among some humans of returning to the surface. Of course, that was impossible. The air was barely breathable for more than brief periods, and the ground would be useless for planting for possibly hundreds of years. They were better off where they were.
Angel was all for the press of progress. HE helped the community work toward it, every day. But underneath it all, his only fear was that all the demons would disappear, and the army would stop looking for any more prisoners to rescue. He was afraid they would give up on Buffy before she was found.
Willow was the only one who understood and supported his conviction that Buffy was still alive. She always said that the surest tie to Buffy's life essence was he himself. If something horrible happened to Buffy, he would surely know.
Angle had started to doubt that himself in the past year. What if they weren't that connected anymore? What if all the years and their respective pain had dulled them to one another? What if something had happened to her when he was in prison, out of his senses? He might not have been able to feel her, then...
No. Even when he was in Hell, he could still feel her. She was still alive, he knew it. The hope of seeing her smile again was sometimes the only thing that got him through the hardest days...
It was a good life, but he still missed her.
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Rhea turned 7 on May 21st. Birthdays were celebrated in grand style in the Community, and there was little chance the daughter of the City's most beloved hero would rate any less than a carnival in the truest sense.
The entire block nearest the Town Square was cordoned off, and bedecked with decorations... Chinese lanterns, colorful flags and streamers, and the sounds of happy laughter and music in the air.
Angel walked through he crowds, smiling at the revelry. He hadn't seen anything like this... well, since the last children's birthday party. The market tables had packed up and moved down here from the main square, and were giving wares away for free to ensure that everyone got a gift. Free hot dogs and fried dough, free soda, lemonade, and beer. Some enterprising soul had even set up a bar, which was quickly packed with the pro-drinking set. They hunched over their liquor as they talked amongst themselves.
There were all kinds of folk, living down here. As long as you pulled your own weight and didn't break any laws, the community never judged the behavior of its members.
Good thing, considering the crowd was dotted with vampires and other demons, all come out for the party.
In life, there was nothing Angel had enjoyed more than a fair. The lights, the noise, the horrendously unhealthy junk food... He loved the atmosphere of carefree joy that so perfectly matched his irrepressible personality as a young man.
//I must be getting really old.// he thought. He found himself more likely than ever to slip into quiet reminiscing... Although he was almost happier now than he had ever been, he still had a tendency to wander back to "Then".
The birthday carnival evoked those old nostalgic feelings again, and he found his joy at the festivities for Rhea's birthday was softened somewhat, by the melancholy that snuck up on him.
He wasn't at all startled by Willow's hand seemingly coming out of nowhere and settling into the crook of his arm. Walking together had become a familiar habit, and she fell into pace with his long stride easily.
He looked down at her and smiled. She was a breathtaking woman... her skin still smooth and soft, and her eyes still full of kindness and innocent wonder. The only hint that she might be older than she seemed were the streaks of silver that peppered her long, deep auburn hair. She often wore it in a tight bun when she worked, but tonight it hung loose around her shoulders, with only the top held away from her face by a green barrette.
Her sweet smile had become like a blessing on his already fulfilled days, and her strong hand in his had become a foundation stone of his new life.
"Enjoying the party?" She asked, smiling warmly up at him.
"I'll never get used to this..." he said, "I haven't been able to get near Rhea all night."
"Well, we are celebrating her... it's only right that she be celebrated. Especially since..." she hesitated, looking down at the ground as they walked.
He knew exactly what she left unsaid. He slid his arm up and over her fine shoulders and gave her a squeeze. "I wish she were here to see this, too." he said quietly, "Every birthday is an important milestone... especially for Rhea and Jeremy."
Willow nodded and quickly wiped a tear that had escaped her eye with her free hand.
They walked with their arms around one another, in familiar, sad silence.
"Speaking of milestones," she said finally, "Jeremy is going to be 13 next month."
Angel smiled, "I know."
Willow looked up at him sheepishly. "I think... maybe... it's, uh... it's time he had... you know... the talk?"
Angel stopped and looked at her. "What talk?" he asked, confused.
Willow blushed. "The Talk. About... man things."
Angel slumped a little. He hadn't even considered it.
"I talked to him... you know... about the physical stuff... what they learn in school... puberty... protection, abstinence and all that... but... I think maybe there should be a man-to-man, too. About... the other stuff."
Ideas flew through Angel's mind so quickly, he could hardly keep track of a single one. There were so many things he could tell the boy...
"You're right. I guess someone should... I mean, I should..." Angel said.
"You are the closest thing he has to a father." Willow went on, "He adores you. If you talk to him... about the emotional stuff... he'll respect what you say, and I think he'll take it more seriously than if it came from me... or anybody else..."
Angel nodded, took her hand, and began to walk again.
"Okay. I'll talk to him this weekend." he said.
"Good." Willow approved.
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The night was like magick. Warm and clear, and filled with the joyous sounds of celebration all around them. One could almost forget that the night sky was a hologram on the biodome roof, the stars were so bright.
She and Angel had stolen away from the party after the gifts were presented to Rhea. It was almost 10 p.m., and families were slowly wandering off toward home, leaving only those more inclined to party behind. The birthday girl was having a giant sleepover, at the Children's Farm, leaving Angel and Willow free, as well.
They climbed up the grassy hill that looked over the square, and sat down. Willow curled her legs up underneath her, and Angel clasped his bent knees in his arms, and they looked quietly out over the hoopla.
"Definitely a hootenanny..." Willow said, and pulled a bottle of champagne out of her bag.
Angel grinned at her. "Did you steal that, Harris?"
She handed him the bottle. "Of course not. I had it smuggled in from the East Coast."
"Ah." He chuckled, and popped the cork. The foam bubbled over, and Angel laughed as he avoided the mess. Willow laughed with him, then magickally produced a pair of plastic cups out of her seemingly bottomless bag.
"Viola!" she said, and held them out to him.
Angel smiled as he filled the cups, and then took one. "That's my Willow. Always prepared..." he said.
Willow held up her glass. "To Rhea Summers-Finn. May she have many more... But maybe not as many as you."
"Here here!" He said heartily, and tapped her glass with his own.
They sipped their champagne in companionable silence. Soft music floated up the hill to them... a perfect, happy sound track to a perfectly warm moment.
"I love this song..." Willow said happily as the first notes of an old country tune reached them.
Angel looked over at her, and smiled once again. She looked so beautiful in the early summer moonlight...
"Would you like to dance?" he asked her.
Willow smiled broadly. "I would love to." she said.
Angel got to his feet and offered his hand to help her up. Dancing had never been one of his favorite activities, at least not in the modern sense, but he still had some skill with a slow waltz...
He proved his worth as he took Willow in his arms the old fashioned way, and she leaned comfortably into him as they swayed to the music.
Willow breathed his clean scent, and the sweet night air deep into her lungs. Nights like this could almost make the past twenty years fade into a hazy mist...
Angel swung her around, and she squealed with delight. He loved to make her smile, and did whatever he could, as often as he could, to make it happen.
He couldn't remember ever feeling so fulfilled... so free. Hardly a worry invaded his mind, letting the cotton soft moment surround them like an old blanket. He didn't think he had been so happy in a very long time, and neither did she.
Willow pulled back a little, and beamed up at him. "You're smiling." she observed.
He nodded. "I'm happy."
Her own smile grew, "Not perfectly, I hope..." she joked.
Angel actually laughed. He wasn't afraid of Angelus... not anymore... "Almost..." he said.
Their eyes met, and their slow swaying ceased as they stared into one another's face.
Willow felt a little shiver run through her at his intense gaze. She felt like a girl again, suddenly, shy and unsure as she hadn't been in decades. Her breath caught in her throat, and her heart pounded.
Angel caressed her face with his eyes, and held his own breath as he moved closer to her. The journey seemed to be a million miles, and took a million years, until his lips at last touched hers, faintly... hesitantly.
Willow instantly felt filled with warmth, and pulled him closer, tangling her hands in his thick hair.
Angel felt as through he were falling as he kissed her, gently holding her face in his big hands.
After a moment, they parted. Angel continued looking down at her, so giddy, he almost could have done a jig, if he wasn't nailed to the spot where he stood.
Willow's eyes were still closed and cast down. It took a few seconds for her to gather her breath and her courage enough to look up at him again.
The soft, gentle look on his handsome features sent a jolt through her. This was the face Buffy saw in her mind, every minute of every day, even when she was married to Riley. The strong arms wrapped around Willow... the deep, soulful eyes... the sweet half-smile... all of these things belonged to Buffy.
She felt like someone had dropped a cartoon anvil on her head, and squashed her flat. She pulled away, leaving Angel suddenly very confused.
"I... I have to go... um... I have to go to ... there." she mumbled, turned, and bolted down the hill and into the crowd.
Angel was so shocked, he could do nothing but watch her go, her long skirt flying behind her as she ran away.
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