Here you go. It's part eleven for you. We're moving towards the end, and it'll get interesting.

Love's Gift – Part 11

By Jill

Jenny hit the 'enter'-button on the keyboard with much more force than necessary, then muttered, "Damn, damn, damn," when a jarring noise sounded through the empty computer room. 

"Sorry, sorry," she apologized quickly to the machine knowing very well that the computer didn't really care what she did to it. It was just a dead thing. But dead or no, it still didn't give her the right to mistreat it. It was a dead machine, but it was an expensive one, too, and the school board was already complaining about the lack of money for books. But maybe she should just ruin the damn thing, just to feel guilty for another failure in her life.

She found her vision blurring when tears welled up in her eyes. Jenny blinked rapidly, but wasn't successful in keeping them from falling down her cheeks. Great, just great, she thought, now her makeup would run, and she'd have to go to fix it.  No way she wanted to see anyone, let alone Giles, she was crying her eyes out.

"Oh damn," she exclaimed loudly, her unseeing gaze still directed at the screen. Why the hell did life have to be so complicated, and why, oh why, did love have to hurt so much? Not just love between man and woman, but love in general. Why was it so hard to deal with disappointment and betrayal?

For a moment she wondered if vampires didn't have the better deal. They didn't care for anything, but feeding and fun. Sure they felt grief, but in the end it was only yourself who counted. Of course that sort of life, if you could even call it one, was incredibly empty. For a human, anyway. What was a life worth if you couldn't feel love, grief, pain? Sure those feeling hurt and could tie your guts into knots, but without them you'd be just a zombie going through the motions.

Although, the way she felt now, even being a zombie held a certain attraction.

She closed her eyes for a moment, wiped them, not caring that her makeup would be smeared all across her face. Who would come and see her, anyway? Giles had made it perfectly clear he didn't want to have her around. He hadn't actually dismissed her, but that didn't mean she hadn't gotten his message loud and clear. And that after his almost casual declaration that he thought her beautiful.

She could still feel her heart beat like a sledgehammer in her chest at his words. Beautiful. He thought she was beautiful. They had made several steps to rebuilt their relationship over the last days, but it had been the first time he'd uttered anything remotely romantic. He'd touched her, yes. In his apartment, when she'd felt his hands on her shoulders, on her arms. The other day he'd been holding her hand. But none of it, neither his actions, nor his words indicated anything but friendship.

Not that she wasn't grateful for it. After what she'd done, the way she'd betrayed his trust, she should be happy he was offering friendship at all. She should be content, he was including her again in the close circle around the Slayer and her vampire boyfriend, but she couldn't. There had been times when she would've been able to step back, but not anymore. Her feelings for him ran too deep already, were too strong, had long overstepped the boundaries of friendship.

The day before Angel had turned into his evil alter ego, they'd been on the brink to a sexual relationship and for Jenny, raised in the traditions of her old clan, this was a big step. For all her modern appearance and her fancy clothes, she was a old-fashioned girl at heart when it came to intimacy and sex. She could count her lovers on one hand, had been at least friends with all of them. Her first had been a boy she'd known since childhood, a man she trusted with her life.

A man who had not hesitated to betray her with the rest of her clan.

The way she had not hesitated to betray Rupert, let alone Buffy and Angel.

Suddenly feeling unsettled, she stood up, walked over to the window, her eyes straying to the yard where usually pupils gathered and chatted. It was deserted at five o'clock in the afternoon, only a few cars were left in the teachers' parking area. She saw Giles' Citroen standing at the end of the row, and a small smile crept across her face. Buffy had once said he needed a grown up car. He'd told her that and chuckled. Jenny didn't share the Slayer's opinion. The car fitted him. It was old-fashioned, reliable, and very sexy.

Something you could fall in love with.

The way she had.

She sighed, rubbed a spot on her forehead where a headache was beginning to form. How could she expect him to forgive her, she wondered? How could she, when she knew first hand what that kind of betrayal did to you? How deeply you could be hurt? Her wounds were still bleeding, probably would so for a long time. How could she expect Rupert's to heal within a few weeks?

The problem was she did expect them to heal. Quickly, without scars. Or at least she had. Until now. Now, this very moment, she understood that it wasn't so easy. That it couldn't be. Trust wasn't something you could win back over night. You had to work for it, to show that you earned it. And that was exactly what she was going to do. Show them that they could count on her, no matter what. And that she had learned from her former mistakes, that she would never betray them again.

With movements that were all but determined she turned back to the desk with the computer sitting on. There had to be something she could do. She walked over, stared at the screen. Then, after taking a deep breath, she sat down again, her fingers flying over the keyboard. Her head was pounding by now, but she ignored it. There were things more important than a simple headache.

*****

The boy lowered his head, his lips finding the girls, and they came together in a long, gentle kiss, when he wrapped his arms around her, their feet moving with the rhythm of the love song on the dance-floor.

Buffy turned her head away abruptly, not able to watch their public display of affection any longer. The way the guy held the girl was like a knife through her already shattered heart, Angel's words about leaving coming back into her mind, and her childish reaction to it.  What if those were the last words they ever said to each other? What if he had left already, gone to locations unknown?

At the thought of never seeing him again, the pain felt like a hot knot in her stomach. She'd thought there was nothing worse than seeing a demon wear your lover's face. But she'd been wrong. There were things worse than that. Like never seeing him again at all.

No!

Denial was instant and sharp. This wasn't going to happen. She would see him again. Then they would talk and …

His image rose before her inner eye. The way his eyes were resting on her, the way they would shine with love and gentleness. There was such pain and grief in his dark orbs, but whenever they fell on her it seemed, if not gone, then at least dimmed. She loved thinking it was her doing, that her presence managed to make the shadows disappear from his soul, to make room for sun and laughter. She liked to think he was happier when she was with him. She loved hearing him laugh, a sound so rare and so precious. He had a wonderful laugh.

Buffy quickly glanced back to the dance-floor where the guy's hands were roaming over the girl's back, drawing patterns over her dress.

She thought about Angel's hands, strong, capable, with long, elegant fingers, one holding a ring, a Claddagh. He'd never taken it off, not even when the soul was gone. She wore the smaller version. It was her most precious piece of jewellery.

She remembered the way his hands had touched her, had made her feel, what they'd done to her body in the name of love. Although she hated to think about the army of lovers he must have had throughout the centuries, she had to admit that an experienced lover was a good thing, especially if the girl was a virgin. She'd heard stories of her friends, about pain and blood, about nothing but disappointment the first time they'd been with a boy.

None of it had happened to her. Angel had been gentle, thoughtful, and not to forget skilful. There hadn't been a  moment of pain. He'd aroused her to the brink of madness and when he'd finally taken her virginity she'd been too far gone to feel anything but passion and rapture. Her first time with a man was something to be treasured and remembered. She wondered how many girls could say the same?

And she remembered the second time they'd made love. Him being a soulless demon, and her … Buffy wasn't sure what exactly it made her. And somehow she didn't really care. After he'd been unconscious she'd taken her time looking at him. His broad, well muscled chest, his slim waist, his powerful legs. She'd touched him everywhere, fascinated, and encouraged by his unconsciousness, that he didn't know what she was doing.

She felt her body quicken in response to the memory and she gulped down the drink in her hand, choking when one of the ice-cubes went down the wrong way.

"Hey, hey."  Xander's hand came to lay on her back. "Look what I've found here, Will," he shouted over the loud noise, turning his head towards the redhead who was standing near by. "The Buffster's here."

"Xand." She greeted him weakly, not at all feeling fit for company. All she wanted was to be left alone. Although regarding her latest train of thoughts it maybe wasn't the safest thing to do in public. Buffy felt heat creep into her cheeks and was suddenly extremely grateful for the dim light at the Bronze.

"Hey, Buffy." Willow was a little bit breathless when she came to a halt in front of her friends. Seeing the strain in her friend's face, she beamed overly bright. "Isn't the band great. I think they are great. Don't you think they are great, Xand?"

"Oz is playing," the boy replied, "Of course you think they are great."

"Well, sure," she admitted. "I'm their groupie after all, but … they are great," she repeated, giving Xander a stern look, then nodded at Buffy when the blond didn't see it.

"Uh … Oh! Yeah. Great. The band is great," he agreed, beaming as well.

"Guys, is something wrong with you?" Buffy gave her friends a curious glance. "Did you drink coffee again?"

"No," Willow shook her head emphatically. "I'm living coffee free these days. Oh … look there's Oz." She turned her head, and then almost casual, she asked, "I … uh … didn't see Angel tonight."

A frown appeared on the Slayer's face, and she avoided the other girl's eyes. "No. Uh … he's probably busy."

"Busy?," Xander shook his head, "Come one. You guys are practically attached at the hip.  As soon as the sun goes down you hardly meet one without the other." He glanced quickly at Willow, then plunged ahead, "Did something happen? Trouble in paradise?"

At that Buffy's head snapped around, her eyes narrowing. "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing," Willow chirped. "But Giles told us that he couldn't reach Angel the whole day, and so we thought … you know with you two being a couple and all … we thought you might know where he is."

"No." The blonde's voice was so muffled they almost didn't understand her.

Finally Xander couldn't stand it anymore. Putting a hand on Buffy's shoulder he gazed at her seriously. "Buffy, you don't need to pretend. We know."

Panic entered her eyes, "Know? Know what?"

"About your fight with Angel," Willow explained, reaching out and taking the blonde's hand. "Xander thought he was following you last night. Not," she added, seeing the other girl's hostile expression, "to spy on you or something. Just to help. In case you …," she shrugged. "Anyways. He heard you fight."

"Yeah," Xander confirmed. "That's why we tried to find a solution. That's why we searching the net today."

Buffy stared at her best friends, and then suddenly tears welled up in her eyes, and she looked away.

"Buffy," Willow said softly. "Xander really-"

"No," the Slayer shook her head, looking back at them. "It's not… You guys are great," she sniffed, "God," she breathed, ran a hand through her hair and turned towards the band. "I … uh … we … well, you know. We had an argument and I … said pretty bad things to him. That he could go and I wouldn't miss him. Well, you heard it, so you know already." She wiped her wet cheeks with the back of her hands. "What … what if he already left? What if he decided I wasn't worth to stay?"

"Nah." Xander grinned when Buffy's head whirled around, her tearful eyes staring at him incredulously. "Hey, I hate the guy. But that doesn't mean I can't see he's crazy about you. Besides, Angel wouldn't just leave. That's just not his style. He'd tell you, face to face. And anyway. As far as I heard it last night, he was only thinking about it, in case his soul was still in danger. He didn't make a decision."

When his words finally sunk in, the Slayer felt panic rise inside of her. It was one thing to think he had left. It was bad, but at least it would mean he was alright and alive. But if he was still in Sunnydale, if he hadn't left, and after looking at Xander again, she was sure of it, it could only mean something bad. Something she didn't even want to think about.

"Oh God," she managed, pressing a hand on her trembling lips. "What if something happened to him?"

"Oh, Buffy," Willow squeezed the hand she was still holding. "I'm sure he's alright. Maybe he just got lost doing … something." But she could clearly see that the Slayer didn't believe her, and if she was honest with herself, she didn't believe it either. Angel might have vanished for days, sometimes weeks, but those times were long over. He wouldn't leave Sunnydale without telling Buffy. And that left only one other possibility.

"Maybe we should find out," Xander suggested.

"But where?," the redhead gave her friend a helpless look.

The Slayer's eyes were hard, her jaw set determinedly. "There's only one thing I can imagine," she said slowly, getting up from her chair, reaching behind her back, checking for the stake she'd always hidden there. She never forgot it, it was an automatic gesture. "I didn't finish the job the last time. But this time, he's going to pay."

"Pay?," Xander was irritated, "Who's going to pay."

"Spike," Buffy replied, her fists clenching and unclenching in a steady rhythm. "He's going to pay. He'll learn that messing with a Slayer's boyfriend can be deadly.

*****

Angel heard the door of the factory open and close, and he heard an unfamiliar voice. He didn't have to wonder whom it belonged because only seconds later, Dru and Spike appeared, accompanied by a tall man, clad all in black, his face long, covered with scars, his eyes glittering like coals. He was undoubtedly a vampire, but there was something … Something Angel couldn't put a finger on.

The stranger stepped closer, mustering the dark-haired vampire with unconcealed interest. "That's him then," he said, his English heavily accented. Something eastern European, Angel guessed, and felt the hair at his neck stand up straight. No, it couldn't be, he tried to calm himself, but already he knew there was no other explanation.

"I always wanted to see him in person. Interesting, very interesting." The stranger turned away, his eyes sweeping over Spike and Dru, then he turned back to Angel. "Alright," he nodded once. "I will do it. I will remove the creatures soul."

… to be continued

Sorry for the cliffhanger, but I couldn't help it this time. Remember, reviews will make me write faster.