Present--
She walks down that road every night. Waiting, watching. She knows there's
going to be a time when they'll come back. When everything will come
crashing back to her, and she'll be able to, finally, deal with what fate
handed to her. So she goes in the name of patrol, and waits.
Waits for them in silence.
Buffy remembers Giles's words to her, and Angel's. They all want her to heal
so much. And she wants that too. She wants to be better than she was,
better than she thought she could be for so long. She knew she was healing.
This was the final step to complete that.
Just one more step.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The group was hushed, waiting, listening to the silence. Finally Giles
looked up from the phone and gave a slight nod.
The tension was palpable. The strain flickered around the room. The relief
washed over like a refreshing wave of water in the desert. The day was
almost there. Almost a year of planning in closed, secret meetings; almost a
year of keeping this one thing from her; almost a year of not saying exactly
what was going to happen, exactly what they were going to do.
Almost a year.
The time was almost up.
Almost.
Giles hung up the phone. "They'll be arriving tomorrow, passing through.
They have plans of leaving Stepton tomorrow, around noon. That will make
them arrive here around," he checked his watch, "Ten-thirty."
Xander grinned, a dark smile full of anticipation. "Finally. You sure
they'll stop?"
"Ten hours on the road and three hours ahead of them to drive?" Oz broke in.
"Yeah, I'd say it's a pretty sure bet."
Angel looked down at his hands; they were drawn tightly into fists. "They'll
stop," he muttered in a low voice.
Giles nodded, glancing at his watch again. "We should disperse for the
night. Xander, Oz, come by my apartment after school. Angel, as soon as the
sun sets." The group nodded. "And, Oz, have Willow bring up the time spell.
I should like to see if we can spot the exact moment they enter Sunnydale."
"Already thought of it," Oz murmured.
"What are we going to do about... Buffy? To make sure she doesn't... find
out?" Xander wanted to know.
For a moment, Giles looked flummoxed. "I suppose every plan has a flaw," he
finally muttered. "Perhaps we can...."
"Cordelia," Angel said.
Xander looked sharply at him. "What about Cordy? Don't get me wrong,
Deadboy, it's not like I mind you taking an interest in my girlfriend, but..."
Angel rolled his eyes. "She can distract Buffy. We should be done by two,
and then Buffy can take her patrol." He shrugged. "It's the most obvious
plan."
"You have the mind of a criminal," Xander grinned. "I like it."
Angel smirked at him and Giles nodded.
"I'll see you tomorrow." The statement had a hint of a question to it.
"Thought we cleared that, Giles," Angel said, heading for the door. "I'll be
there."
Xander and Oz stood. They raised their eyebrows at Giles, bobbing their
heads. "I guess that means we will too," Xander said. "The nod, I mean."
"Yes, very droll." Giles began walking to his office. "Tomorrow then."
The others left, and silence swept over the library.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy would laugh, and she would smile. For all eyes to see, she was fine
with her fate again. She was the same person after the trauma that she had
been before. But it wasn't entirely true. She had changed. And though she
didn't wake up every night in a cold sweat; though she didn't think about
them every day as she once did; they still were in her mind.
At night. When she walked, looking for them.
Only she knew what she was going to do. She had confided in her friends all
but that. That remained with her, a sacred piece of the one thing what would
forever heal her.
Buffy shivered, walking.
She could feel them nearing her, even now. Somehow, she could feel them
getting closer.
To her fate and to theirs.
And one night, the chills wouldn't leave. They didn't go away. It wasn't
mind over matter. She recognized the feeling. They were there. At long
last, she would finally have the chance she had been waiting for. Her
birthday was a few days away.
Happy Birthday, Buffy.
She went hunting.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The phone rang in a room filled with strained anticipation. After a startled
intake of breath from those who were waiting, Oz finally reached over and
picked it up. He held it to his ear for a moment, listening silently.
At length, he made a sound of affirmation and hung up. He stood, turning to
the others. "Willow says it's time to party."
Giles nodded and straightened himself as Xander and Angel got the bags. They
started heading out the door. Giles looked behind him, secure in the sight
of the three angry men behind him. "Where?" he asked in a low voice.
"Sunnydale Inn. My guess is they'll be men of the town again, though," Oz
told him curtly. Giles nodded.
Angel turned to Xander. "What's that saying nowadays? To prepare someone?"
Xander smiled grimly. "Let's get ready to rumble?"
"Exactly."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The smell of smoke permeated the night. Buffy wrinkled her nose, her eyes
narrowing. Weaving her way through the cars in the almost empty parking lot,
she finally came to the place she had been led to. She didn't know what had
brought her there, what piece of intuition that told her they would be
waiting, but it didn't matter then.
As the world faded away and their eyes landed on her, *nothing* mattered.
The first, the one who called himself Andy, grinned at her. He nudged his
friend, who was taking a long draw from a green bottle. Buffy smirked, the
anger building in her. She leaned against the car opposite them and waited
for one of them to speak.
"Lookit, Jake," he muttered, nudging his friend in the ribs harder. His
words were slurred, his voice rough. "It's the little girl we met up here
last time."
Jake looked at Buffy, his eyes widening in sick pleasure. "Come for another
date, have ya?"
Buffy took her fighting stance. "I wouldn't date either of you for all the
money in the world. Then again, I wouldn't have even before last time."
Andy teetered for her. "That's not too nice."
"I'm sick of being nice," she growled, her leg snapping out and wrapping
around one of his feet. She yanked and he went down hard, sprawling.
Jake cursed, running toward her to defend his friend. His hand tightened
into a fist and he went to backhand her, but she caught his fingers in her
deceptively frail hand and, with a casual jerk, broke his fingers. He yelled
in pain, falling to his knees. Buffy smiled angrily. "I have a thing about
breaking fingers," she shrugged.
"Listen, little girl, if you obey and be nice, we won't hurt you," Andy
panted out, getting to his feet.
Buffy laughed in a low voice. "Funny, I thought I was the one hurting *you*."
She didn't see his hand flying toward her in a vicious slap, but felt the air
next to her cheek move, and at the last moment she dodged away, the slap
barely grazing her shoulder. Her skin seemed to crawl at the feel of his
fingers on her skin again after so long. She retaliated by hitting him,
three times in the stomach, three times as hard as was needed to make him go
down. As he fell, she brought her knee up and it jarred with his chin,
making a satisfying cracking sound. He went down bonelessly, coughing out
teeth.
"Shit," he muttered hoarsely, "What are you?"
Buffy straightened herself; wiped the blood from his face off of her hands
calmly.
"I'm the Slayer."
"The what?"
Buffy's eyes wandered down his body slowly, and finally locked on his knee.
"The Slayer," she explained, lifting her foot and bringing it down on his
knee harshly. It crunched underneath the force of her foot, and she smiled.
"I kill bad guys. In a nutshell."
Andy passed out.
Jake got up silently behind her and Buffy whirled to face him. He lifted the
bottle he had dropped and slammed it against the side of a car, effectively
making it a wicked weapon. He waved it around dangerously. "I think you'd
better calm down, little miss," he hissed, "Or else you're going to get some
scars that won't heal this time."
Buffy stood her ground, glaring at him, furious at the tears that came into
her eyes. "Some of them didn't heal from the last time," she spat out, a
single tear tracking down her cheek. "Why do you think I'm here?"
Jake ran at her with the broken bottle, and Buffy easily ducked underneath
his arm, disarming him as he passed her. She kicked him to the ground,
holding the bottle to his face.
Her hand trembled. "I want to kill you, you know that?"
Jake swallowed, his eyes darting back and forth between the broken glass near
his eye, and her face.
She continued, her voice rising. "Do you know how much I want to kill you?!"
Quickly, he shook his head. She pressed the bottle a little closer against
his face, tiny droplets of blood appearing. "I want you to die. You know
what you did to me, you knew exactly what you were doing, and you did it
anyway. For that alone, you should die." Her tears were coming faster. "I
want to make you bleed and make you cry and make you feel like you're never
going to get better. I want to make you feel *worthless!*" she yelled,
disturbing the night. "And *dirty!*"
She spit in his face, and he flinched, his blood from the tiny cut on his
cheek flowing faster.
Buffy pressed it harder, wanting nothing more than to kill him, wanting it to
be that simple and easy. More blood oozed down and caught her eyes. She
followed its path down to his chin, where it dribbled off slowly.
Her eyes glittered.
She took the bottle away from his face.
"I can't kill you now," she muttered. "Because I don't kill people, even if
they hurt me. But I could kill you later, if you hurt someone else. And
believe me, I'll find out if you do. And I'll find you again and kill you
this time. Understand?"
Jake was quiet; terrified.
She yelled, wanting to shove the broken bottle into his heart. "Understand?!"
"Y-yes. Yes. I understand."
Buffy nodded and let go of the bottle, not hearing it crash against the
pavement. She turned and walked away, something like satisfaction filling
her stomach, something like daze seeping into her mind.
She didn't look back.
Jake watched her go for what seemed like forever before he finally went to
check on his friend. Andy was already awake, but still, as though if he
moved, more pain would come to him. Jake helped him up.
Andy groaned, testing out his leg. "We'll get that little whore, Jake. She
musta been takin' lessons," he grunted. "Took us by surprise is all. We'll
get her."
Jake nodded, but a foreign voice, the voice of a dark angel, invaded the
conversation.
"Care to bet on that?"
She walks down that road every night. Waiting, watching. She knows there's
going to be a time when they'll come back. When everything will come
crashing back to her, and she'll be able to, finally, deal with what fate
handed to her. So she goes in the name of patrol, and waits.
Waits for them in silence.
Buffy remembers Giles's words to her, and Angel's. They all want her to heal
so much. And she wants that too. She wants to be better than she was,
better than she thought she could be for so long. She knew she was healing.
This was the final step to complete that.
Just one more step.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The group was hushed, waiting, listening to the silence. Finally Giles
looked up from the phone and gave a slight nod.
The tension was palpable. The strain flickered around the room. The relief
washed over like a refreshing wave of water in the desert. The day was
almost there. Almost a year of planning in closed, secret meetings; almost a
year of keeping this one thing from her; almost a year of not saying exactly
what was going to happen, exactly what they were going to do.
Almost a year.
The time was almost up.
Almost.
Giles hung up the phone. "They'll be arriving tomorrow, passing through.
They have plans of leaving Stepton tomorrow, around noon. That will make
them arrive here around," he checked his watch, "Ten-thirty."
Xander grinned, a dark smile full of anticipation. "Finally. You sure
they'll stop?"
"Ten hours on the road and three hours ahead of them to drive?" Oz broke in.
"Yeah, I'd say it's a pretty sure bet."
Angel looked down at his hands; they were drawn tightly into fists. "They'll
stop," he muttered in a low voice.
Giles nodded, glancing at his watch again. "We should disperse for the
night. Xander, Oz, come by my apartment after school. Angel, as soon as the
sun sets." The group nodded. "And, Oz, have Willow bring up the time spell.
I should like to see if we can spot the exact moment they enter Sunnydale."
"Already thought of it," Oz murmured.
"What are we going to do about... Buffy? To make sure she doesn't... find
out?" Xander wanted to know.
For a moment, Giles looked flummoxed. "I suppose every plan has a flaw," he
finally muttered. "Perhaps we can...."
"Cordelia," Angel said.
Xander looked sharply at him. "What about Cordy? Don't get me wrong,
Deadboy, it's not like I mind you taking an interest in my girlfriend, but..."
Angel rolled his eyes. "She can distract Buffy. We should be done by two,
and then Buffy can take her patrol." He shrugged. "It's the most obvious
plan."
"You have the mind of a criminal," Xander grinned. "I like it."
Angel smirked at him and Giles nodded.
"I'll see you tomorrow." The statement had a hint of a question to it.
"Thought we cleared that, Giles," Angel said, heading for the door. "I'll be
there."
Xander and Oz stood. They raised their eyebrows at Giles, bobbing their
heads. "I guess that means we will too," Xander said. "The nod, I mean."
"Yes, very droll." Giles began walking to his office. "Tomorrow then."
The others left, and silence swept over the library.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy would laugh, and she would smile. For all eyes to see, she was fine
with her fate again. She was the same person after the trauma that she had
been before. But it wasn't entirely true. She had changed. And though she
didn't wake up every night in a cold sweat; though she didn't think about
them every day as she once did; they still were in her mind.
At night. When she walked, looking for them.
Only she knew what she was going to do. She had confided in her friends all
but that. That remained with her, a sacred piece of the one thing what would
forever heal her.
Buffy shivered, walking.
She could feel them nearing her, even now. Somehow, she could feel them
getting closer.
To her fate and to theirs.
And one night, the chills wouldn't leave. They didn't go away. It wasn't
mind over matter. She recognized the feeling. They were there. At long
last, she would finally have the chance she had been waiting for. Her
birthday was a few days away.
Happy Birthday, Buffy.
She went hunting.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The phone rang in a room filled with strained anticipation. After a startled
intake of breath from those who were waiting, Oz finally reached over and
picked it up. He held it to his ear for a moment, listening silently.
At length, he made a sound of affirmation and hung up. He stood, turning to
the others. "Willow says it's time to party."
Giles nodded and straightened himself as Xander and Angel got the bags. They
started heading out the door. Giles looked behind him, secure in the sight
of the three angry men behind him. "Where?" he asked in a low voice.
"Sunnydale Inn. My guess is they'll be men of the town again, though," Oz
told him curtly. Giles nodded.
Angel turned to Xander. "What's that saying nowadays? To prepare someone?"
Xander smiled grimly. "Let's get ready to rumble?"
"Exactly."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The smell of smoke permeated the night. Buffy wrinkled her nose, her eyes
narrowing. Weaving her way through the cars in the almost empty parking lot,
she finally came to the place she had been led to. She didn't know what had
brought her there, what piece of intuition that told her they would be
waiting, but it didn't matter then.
As the world faded away and their eyes landed on her, *nothing* mattered.
The first, the one who called himself Andy, grinned at her. He nudged his
friend, who was taking a long draw from a green bottle. Buffy smirked, the
anger building in her. She leaned against the car opposite them and waited
for one of them to speak.
"Lookit, Jake," he muttered, nudging his friend in the ribs harder. His
words were slurred, his voice rough. "It's the little girl we met up here
last time."
Jake looked at Buffy, his eyes widening in sick pleasure. "Come for another
date, have ya?"
Buffy took her fighting stance. "I wouldn't date either of you for all the
money in the world. Then again, I wouldn't have even before last time."
Andy teetered for her. "That's not too nice."
"I'm sick of being nice," she growled, her leg snapping out and wrapping
around one of his feet. She yanked and he went down hard, sprawling.
Jake cursed, running toward her to defend his friend. His hand tightened
into a fist and he went to backhand her, but she caught his fingers in her
deceptively frail hand and, with a casual jerk, broke his fingers. He yelled
in pain, falling to his knees. Buffy smiled angrily. "I have a thing about
breaking fingers," she shrugged.
"Listen, little girl, if you obey and be nice, we won't hurt you," Andy
panted out, getting to his feet.
Buffy laughed in a low voice. "Funny, I thought I was the one hurting *you*."
She didn't see his hand flying toward her in a vicious slap, but felt the air
next to her cheek move, and at the last moment she dodged away, the slap
barely grazing her shoulder. Her skin seemed to crawl at the feel of his
fingers on her skin again after so long. She retaliated by hitting him,
three times in the stomach, three times as hard as was needed to make him go
down. As he fell, she brought her knee up and it jarred with his chin,
making a satisfying cracking sound. He went down bonelessly, coughing out
teeth.
"Shit," he muttered hoarsely, "What are you?"
Buffy straightened herself; wiped the blood from his face off of her hands
calmly.
"I'm the Slayer."
"The what?"
Buffy's eyes wandered down his body slowly, and finally locked on his knee.
"The Slayer," she explained, lifting her foot and bringing it down on his
knee harshly. It crunched underneath the force of her foot, and she smiled.
"I kill bad guys. In a nutshell."
Andy passed out.
Jake got up silently behind her and Buffy whirled to face him. He lifted the
bottle he had dropped and slammed it against the side of a car, effectively
making it a wicked weapon. He waved it around dangerously. "I think you'd
better calm down, little miss," he hissed, "Or else you're going to get some
scars that won't heal this time."
Buffy stood her ground, glaring at him, furious at the tears that came into
her eyes. "Some of them didn't heal from the last time," she spat out, a
single tear tracking down her cheek. "Why do you think I'm here?"
Jake ran at her with the broken bottle, and Buffy easily ducked underneath
his arm, disarming him as he passed her. She kicked him to the ground,
holding the bottle to his face.
Her hand trembled. "I want to kill you, you know that?"
Jake swallowed, his eyes darting back and forth between the broken glass near
his eye, and her face.
She continued, her voice rising. "Do you know how much I want to kill you?!"
Quickly, he shook his head. She pressed the bottle a little closer against
his face, tiny droplets of blood appearing. "I want you to die. You know
what you did to me, you knew exactly what you were doing, and you did it
anyway. For that alone, you should die." Her tears were coming faster. "I
want to make you bleed and make you cry and make you feel like you're never
going to get better. I want to make you feel *worthless!*" she yelled,
disturbing the night. "And *dirty!*"
She spit in his face, and he flinched, his blood from the tiny cut on his
cheek flowing faster.
Buffy pressed it harder, wanting nothing more than to kill him, wanting it to
be that simple and easy. More blood oozed down and caught her eyes. She
followed its path down to his chin, where it dribbled off slowly.
Her eyes glittered.
She took the bottle away from his face.
"I can't kill you now," she muttered. "Because I don't kill people, even if
they hurt me. But I could kill you later, if you hurt someone else. And
believe me, I'll find out if you do. And I'll find you again and kill you
this time. Understand?"
Jake was quiet; terrified.
She yelled, wanting to shove the broken bottle into his heart. "Understand?!"
"Y-yes. Yes. I understand."
Buffy nodded and let go of the bottle, not hearing it crash against the
pavement. She turned and walked away, something like satisfaction filling
her stomach, something like daze seeping into her mind.
She didn't look back.
Jake watched her go for what seemed like forever before he finally went to
check on his friend. Andy was already awake, but still, as though if he
moved, more pain would come to him. Jake helped him up.
Andy groaned, testing out his leg. "We'll get that little whore, Jake. She
musta been takin' lessons," he grunted. "Took us by surprise is all. We'll
get her."
Jake nodded, but a foreign voice, the voice of a dark angel, invaded the
conversation.
"Care to bet on that?"