The Ruby Slippers

Part 6



By Gem

& PJ

"I still can't believe he's gone," Willow said softly. "It just seems so unreal. I mean I know he hasn't been here as in here for over a year, but he was always kind of still here, you know? And now he's not. Not ever." She clasped Tara's hand tightly in her own, overwhelmingly grateful for her blessings in the face of this new tragedy.

"I realize denial is a customary human reaction to loss, but I don't think you're being very useful, Willow. Shouldn't you be saying something comforting?" Anya snuggled in closer to Xander on the sofa, resting her head on his shoulder just because she could.

Xander was here. Xander was alive, and safe and here.

Buffy spun on her heel, turning herself away from the sight of her friends and their lovers. "It doesn't matter what you say or how nicely you say it. Words can't change the past, or change my mind about the future. I'm going back to LA. Tomorrow."

Giles watched warily. She had been completely silent on the ride back to her mother's house, despite the many questions leveled at her. Once they had set up camp on the sofas and chairs, however, she had begun her own personal marathon, circling the perimeter of the living room like a plane unable to land. With the pacing came a monotone recitation of the pervious day's events, leading up in painful detail to her return home to battle Glory.

"Buffy, we have been over this several times," he said patiently. "I realize how difficult it must be for you right now, but you know running away won't solve anything."

"And why would you want to leave anyway? This is the hellmouth; home sweet home." Xander didn't notice Buffy flinch at the last phrase, he was too busy expounding on the virtues of his hometown. "Vamp Vacationland; Demon Disney World. You can't leave; what would happen to the tourist trade?"

He could feel the disapproval in the room when he made his futile attempt at humor; even Anya seemed to sense it was inappropriate. Xander desperately wanted to say something helpful or meaningful, but the words would not come. He coped with laughter, because being serious meant admitting the crisis was real and he was helpless.

"All joking aside," Giles paused to glare at Xander, "your place is here. Not only are we all here to help you through your current.bereavement, but there is also the hellmouth to consider. Glory was only one of many threats, and however ably you handled her, there will be others." He was sympathetic to her pain, but he knew he had to be stern. As her friend, as well as her Watcher, he felt obliged to protect Buffy from her own rash impulses in her hour of grief.

"Giles is right, sweetie." Joyce sat down in a chair in Buffy's flight path and patted her daughter's hand as she passed by. "You're just not thinking clearly right now, with...all that's happened. You belong here."

Buffy abruptly veered from her course and crossed over to stare out the window at the dark street. "I belonged with Angel," she said bitterly, "but no one seemed to like that plan."

"Honey..."

Buffy wheeled around to face her mother, a part of her clamoring for battle, raging to inflict wounds rather than receive them. "I already tried it your way, Mom," she continued steadily over her mother's objection. "I let him go and I tried to be the perfect daughter instead, the perfect friend, the perfect girlfriend. Only being the perfect girlfriend got in the way of being the perfect friend, and being the perfect daughter got in the way of being the perfect girlfriend." She threw her hands up in the air. "Big surprise; Buffy blows it again."

"Buffy, I know you've been through a lot the past few months, what with my illness and Riley leaving for his mission, but you can't just give up now, because of him." Joyce was able to hold back most of her disgust with the last word, but not all. "You've come so far from the girl who thought she needed that man in her life. Don't let him win."

"He had a name, Mom."

God how it hurt to say 'had.' Every time she forced herself to use the past tense it was like someone threw a gallon of ice water on a never-to-be- healed wound. She froze, and then she ached and then she prayed for the inevitable numbness to creep over her.

"Everyone has a name, Buffy. I'm sure in two hundred and fifty years he had several. Did you ever know the real one?"

"I know of a few I'd like to call you right now," Buffy muttered under her breath. Taking firm hold of her emotions, she continued in a louder and distinctly colder voice. "I know exactly what you thought of Angel, Mom, and how you made him feel about himself. I know better than you think I do. But your opinions have nothing to do with the man he really...was." She caught her breath; she would not cry over Angel in front of her mother of all people.

"Buffy, please. Your mother is understandably upset by this evening's...activities with Glory, and concerned about the future." Giles glanced quickly at Dawn, who had remained huddled up at the end of the sofa since they had arrived. "We all are."

"Well so am I," Buffy replied coolly, "but part of that future belongs to me, and I want some say in it. No, I take that back; I want all the say in it for a change." She spoke very slowly and clearly, wanting to leave no room for misunderstanding. "I am going to LA. I can transfer schools; I have a job and a place to live waiting for me. There's no reason to stay."

"Well then hey, so long and thanks for the memories, Buff." Xander decided the time for joking was at last at an end. He joined Buffy at the window, laying his hand lightly on her arm and kneading it slightly. "Look, I know you're angry, and hurting, but we're here for you. We're always here for you, no matter what boy-toys pass through your life...and that so came out the wrong way."

Xander quickly removed his hand from her arm and backed up a few paces when he saw the fury flash across Buffy's face. Somehow though, the stony gaze that replaced it was worse. He searched desperately for the right words to show his support.

"I'm not trying to blow off what you felt for Angel, or how badly you must miss him. All I'm saying is that we can help you, if you let us. But Giles is right; running off to LA isn't going to help anything."

"It won't bring Angel back is what Xander is trying to say," Anya translated in an attempt to be helpful. She jumped when Willow slapped her arm. "What? That is what she's thinking, and what he thinks she's thinking. I've been around a long time, and even though the heartbreak I saw was usually the kind that could have been avoided with a little more honest communication, and a less extra-curricular fornication, I still know how people react to pain. They want to wish it away."

"I know I can't wish it away," Buffy said slowly. "But they need me there. He died trying to protect them, and me. The least I can do is make sure they stay safe."

Xander shook his head. "So the hell with the rest of the world; let's save Cordy? That's not like you, Buffy."

"Maybe not, but I don't think there's much about me worth keeping right now. So I'm going to shop around for a new look."

The 2001 model Slayer: better, faster, stronger...or at least, she could hope, less vulnerable to pain. The tighter the circle she drew around herself, the less there was to protect, and ultimately to lose.

Giles approached her slowly. "Buffy, may we speak privately? There are a few things we need to discuss if you are truly serious about this move."

She looked at him silently for several minutes. She knew he would throw every argument in the book at her, and all of it would be for her own good. She had no doubt that Giles only wanted what was best for her, and ultimately he would respect her decision, unlike her mother. He would, however, pull out every stop before he gave in, unfortunately also just like her mother.

He was not going to play fair.

"Giles, I can't do this now." She shook her head sadly. "I'm not leaving until tomorrow afternoon, so if you want to take another whack at guilt- tripping me you have all night to think up the ways. I'll see you in the morning."

He wanted to stop her, here and now. He wanted to reason with her, plead with her, or perhaps just comfort her until she saw the error of her ways. Instead Giles watched as the strongest Slayer the world had ever known dragged her weary body up the stairs one lonely step at a time.

* * * * *

"Look Wes, I can't very well borrow my mom's car for this. So you can either drive here to get me or I'll take the bus and use the convertible next weekend to come back and get my stuff. My mind is made up; how about you?"

Buffy turned her head from the phone when she felt a presence in her bedroom. Seeing it was only Giles, she motioned for him to wait and continued her conversation with Wesley.

"So I'll see you in a few hours? Okay, I'll be waiting." She placed the phone on her nightstand and drew a deep breath. "Well, fight number one of the day is done, but I'm game for a new opponent." She looked up at Giles, a defiant gleam in her eye. "Give it your best shot, Watcher Man."

Giles glanced around the bedroom, noting the piles of clothes heaped untidily in the open duffel bags, the toiletries jumbled together in a cardboard box, and the neatly assembled weapons in Buffy's slayer trunk.

"So you're still determined to go." He didn't bother to pose it as a question; the answer was obvious.

Buffy's tension eased fractionally, but she was still suspicious. Giles rarely gave up, and never easily.

"Yeah, Wesley will be here in a few hours to get me." She resumed her packing, cramming her clothes into every available pocket of the duffel bags with little regard for the fabric's capacity to wrinkle. "And I suppose this is the last stand at the OK Corral? Time to persuade Buffy she's being selfish and careless and personally inviting the world to end because she's slacking off."

"I wouldn't say slacking off," Giles said mildly, perching on a clothes- free corner of the bed. "You are going to Los Angeles to continue the battle, aren't you? And to protect some friends as well. That would hardly be called selfish."

"Oh, a new tactic. Agree with the basket case to disarm her."

"Are you a 'basket case'?" The tone was still gentle and non-committal, but the gaze he leveled at her could have penetrated steel.

"I'm...tired," she admitted with a sigh. She walked past him to rearrange a few items in her trunk, conveniently placing her back to Giles as she crouched over the weapons. "But I know where I belong, and I know what I have to do when I get there. That's enough for now."

"And later? When the first grief has passed and you suddenly realize you've given up home and family and friends to chase after a ghost?"

She stood up slowly, still keeping her back to him. "Gloves off, huh? I knew you were being too calm and reasonable." She turned around quickly, striking first and repeatedly, before he had a chance for rebuttal. "I am not chasing ghosts; I am trying to find some reason to keep fighting. Because you see I keep fighting to protect everyone else's right to those things you mentioned. You know, the home, the family, the friends. Me, I don't worry too much about giving them up now, because what I don't give gets taken away anyway."

"Buffy, you can't push us away because you're afraid of losing us," he protested.

"It's not about you, any of you," she insisted. Welcome back anger; where have you been? "This is about what I need, just this once. Not what anyone else thinks I need, not what anyone tried to give me whether I want it or not. What I need," she repeated emphatically.

"And that is?" Giles' tone was softer now; he could sense they were coming to the heart of the matter and he needed to tread softly from here out.

She didn't want to tell him. He would think it sounded fantastical or foolish, because to any rational person it would. But reason had little place in her world, especially now. She only hoped Giles could rise above his logical mind.

"Him." She threw up her hands. "I can't feel him anymore, Giles. I used to be able to feel him inside me, in this little part of my mind that I couldn't ignore no matter how hard I tried." She laughed sharply as she began to pitch cosmetics from her top dresser drawer into the nearest open box. "And I did try, Giles. You will never know how hard. But he was always there, the stubborn...he was always waiting for me, behind all the noise and the voices...and the sex...that I used to drown him out. And now he's gone and I feel so...empty." She slammed the dresser drawer shut and ran her hands threw her hair as she tried to focus on anything but the feeling she was describing.

"Running away won't help that emptiness, Buffy. If it is memories you are searching for, you'll be more likely to find them here than in Los Angeles, but I don't think that it would be particularly wise to immerse yourself in them, regardless." Giles stood up and slowly approached her. "And I'm afraid that feeling of...shared consciousness, I suppose you would call it, will not be obtainable wherever you are. He is gone, Buffy, however much you want that not to be true. Our deeds live beyond us, but not the mind that controlled them."

"But I felt him, last night." She dropped her hands to her side, holding her palms upward in entreaty. She had to make him understand. "Last night, when Glory threw me up against the wall that last time and I was too out of it to fight back for a minute, I felt him. That was what woke me up enough to see her coming at me with Excalibur."

"I've lived long enough on a hellmouth not to discount any possibility," Giles admitted, "but I hardly see what..."

"I felt him the other night, too," she continued over his objection. "I was in his room and I was sleeping and I know he was there with me. I even saw him." She paused for a moment. "Well, I'm not sure about the seeing part, because I could hardly keep my eyes open, but I know he was there."

"In your dreams, quite literally," Giles said gently.

"No! He was there; I know it. So I know I can find him again, some part of him at least, if I'm there at the hotel. He wants me to be there, taking care of everyone for him. I thought I couldn't do it, because of Glory, but she's history now. Literally."

"She may not be the only after Dawn," he reminded her.

"Keep your voice down," she snapped. She glared at him for a moment before she hurried over to close her door. "Do you think I haven't considered what would happen to her if I'm not here?" she continued as she leaned against the closed door. "I know she's my responsibility, Giles. I'm only leaving her here for a little while, and then I'll bring her to LA. No hellmouth equals at least twice the lifespan for your average person, so who knows what it can do for her."

"And what about her true purpose? We know Glory saw her as some sort of life-sized protein bar, but this tells us nothing of why she was really placed in your custody. What is she the Key to?"

"She is my sister," Buffy answered fiercely. "She was human when we got home last night, she was human when I went down to get some packing tape this morning, so as far as I'm concerned that's the way she's going to stay. Whatever she is the Key to is just going to have to stay locked."

* * * * *

Giles shook his head at the group assembled by the foot of the stairs as he hurried down to join them. "It's no use, I'm afraid," he called to them softly. "She's determined to go, and short of chaining her to the bed I can see no way to stop her."

Spike raised his hand. "Well if it's chains you're lacking I can..." he glanced around, insulted by the disgusted looks he felt being leveled at him. "What? I was only trying to help," he sniffed.

"Maybe it's for the best that Buffy leaves right now," Tara suggested. "I know we want her to stay because we think we can help her; because we're her friends. But maybe right now she needs to be with Angel's friends."

She glanced from one guilty face to another.

"We are...I mean we were Angel's friends," Willow said defensively. "Weren't we?"

"Don't look at me." Spike shook his blond head vehemently. "I never liked the old boy, even when he didn't have a soul. We may have shared a few laughs over an open vein or two, but demons don't do that friendship thing, you know."

"Well ex-demons do," Anya said loftily, "but I barely knew the man. I only met him once or twice." She raised her eyebrows and tilted her head as she looked back on the encounters. "He was quite good-looking, but he seemed far too intellectual for my taste." She beamed at Xander to show her appreciation of his differences from Angel, but her boyfriend did not appear flattered by the comparison.

"There were some...personal issues that precluded friendship in my case." Giles looked away, realizing they would misunderstand the issues, but he had no intention of enlightening them.

He could forgive Angel for Angelus' actions against he and Jenny, though forgetting was never an option. It was what Angel had knowingly done to Buffy that Giles found so hard to forgive. Images of Buffy in Angel's bed, and later in a hospital bed, still haunted Giles. Angel, not Angelus, had stolen his cherished child's innocence, in more ways than one, and then almost taken her life as well.

For those sins forgiveness was a much higher mountain to climb.

Xander threw up his hands. "Hey, we all know how I felt about the King of Pain. I still say Riley was a much better guy for her."

"Oh that's constructive," Willow groaned. "Xander, he's not exactly an option right now, so I wouldn't bring that up to her if I were you."

"I've hardly heard any of you mention Angel in all the time I've known you," Tara reluctantly pointed out. "Maybe Buffy needs to be with people who are grieving, not just...surprised."

"I think it's more than surprise," Giles protested. "Still, you may be at least partially correct about the attraction Los Angeles now holds for her. As to the rest...well, I'm afraid she's searching for things she will never find."

"I can't pretend to grieve for Angel, but I would do anything to stop the pain she's in right now. My poor baby; she's had such a rough few months." Joyce glanced anxiously up the stairs. "Maybe I should go talk to her again."

"I wouldn't, Joyce. She has made up her mind and I think we need to respect her decision for now. I'm sure Wesley and Cordelia will keep us apprised of her...condition, and make us aware if she needs more than they can give. Beyond that...I'm afraid she is legally an adult and we have no right to keep her here, however much we might wish to."

Joyce shook her head stubbornly. "No, I refuse to give up. But we need to really brainstorm before we say anything else to her. Why don't we all go have some hot chocolate in the kitchen and see what we can come up with."

As Giles and the Scoobies trooped into the Summers' kitchen after Joyce, Dawn quietly slipped upstairs.

* * * * *

Dawn slowly pushed open her sister's bedroom door, silently observing her older sister in a rare moment of inactivity.

Her sister had been in a never-ending flurry of movement from the moment she got home the previous night. Long after Buffy retreated to her room Dawn could hear her sister pacing and moving things and exercising and making any other number of noises as she tried to keep herself awake. It almost seemed as if Buffy was afraid to sleep. Dawn had wanted to go to Buffy, to help in some way, but she was a little frightened of the cold perpetual motion machine her sister had suddenly become.

The machine had finally stopped.

Buffy was sitting cross-legged on the bed, in the middle of bags and boxes and piles of junk yet to be packed. The only thing that seemed to interest her, however, was the leather-bound book she was reading. She was gripping it tightly in one hand as she bit her lip and fought for control of her harsh breathing. With the other hand she laid claim to a small, carved wooden box in her lap, shielding, or perhaps clinging to it; Dawn couldn't be sure.

"Buffy," she called hesitantly, "can I come in?"

Buffy looked up, saw Dawn in the doorway and closed her eyes for just an instant. When she opened them, she gave a tiny nod as she put the book down on the bed beside her. "Yeah, come in."

Dawn took a few hesitant steps into the room and then stopped, nervously twisting a strand of her long brown hair in her hands as she faced the sister she suddenly felt she never knew.

"I just wanted to say...Tara reminded me that...that Angel could be really nice to me sometimes, and I...I'm really sorry he's dead." Fear moved swiftly across her features. "I mean that he's gone now. I shouldn't have said 'dead.' And I really shouldn't have said it again to apologize for saying it the first time, should I?"

Buffy smiled slowly, but there was an indefinable wall that shadowed her eyes and prevented the smile from touching them. "It's okay, Dawn; you can say it. I won't explode or anything."

It was with more than a little relief that Dawn came far enough into the room to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Good, I was afraid I was going to be the one to push you over the edge, which is pretty much where they all think you're headed, if not already there. I meant what I said about Angel, though. Sometimes he was really nice to me, though a lot of the time it was like I kind of didn't exist once you came in the room, because you were pretty much all he could see." She picked at a loose thread on the comforter as she continued, not quite daring to meet Buffy's eyes. "I guess that was why I liked it when you started dating Riley. He was nuts about you and everything, but it was, I don't know, normal nuts. Not 'you are the light of my dark existence' nuts."

Buffy reached out to stroke Dawn's long hair. "I'm glad you have some good memories of Angel, and it means a lot that you wanted to tell me you have them."

Even if the memories weren't real, and even if Angel never shared them, it still made Buffy feel better that the monks had painted him kindly in Dawn's subconscious.

The younger girl lifted her head to look deep into Buffy's hazel eyes, searching for an explanation to the sudden changes in her world. "Tara said you want to be with people who were Angel's friends, not just ones saying nice things about him to make you feel better."

"Can't put much over on that witch, now can you?" Buffy asked dryly. "The others...I love them dearly, but they...tolerated him at best. A big part of the reason he left was because he thought he couldn't fit into the life that they all had, the kind people made him think I wanted." Her lips tightened at the memory of her mother's bewildered eyes the previous night. Joyce truly had no idea the nightmare she created with her meddling.

"So if they liked him better, you would stay?"

"It's not that simple, Dawn. I'm tired of fighting the demon of the week and having nothing to show for it but the world not ending. I mean it's great the world doesn't end, but I'd kind of like to know for sure that at least one person is better off with it not ending." She saw the blank look on Dawn's face and sighed with frustration. "I'm not explaining this very well, but I'm tired of being Big Picture Girl. I want to help one person, or maybe a few people, and be able to see that I helped them. As it is now, I kill one demon and another one takes its place before the body's cold. I stop Glory from...well, her mission was kind of complicated, but I put an end to it. Now Giles is saying she might not be the only one. For every two steps forward it's three steps back."

"I'll miss you," Dawn said wistfully.

Buffy impulsively hugged her. "You know, you can come with me," she whispered in Dawn's ear.

Dawn pulled back. "You mean it?"

"Of course. Why would you want to stay in Sunnydale anyway?"

"Because it's home." Dawn shrugged; it was obvious to her.

Buffy read deeper levels of meaning into the simple phrase. Whatever the Key was supposed to be, the being that was Dawn was a child still, with a child's need for stability, and protection. To uproot her was unthinkable.

Almost as unthinkable as leaving her unprotected.

"Dawn, please come with me," she quickly begged. "I know it's scary to think of leaving home and Mom...but please come with me."

Dawn stood up slowly.

"I'll miss you," she repeated solemnly as she backed out the door. A moment later the door closed behind her, trapping Buffy in her bedroom with her memories, and her responsibilities.

Once again, the hellmouth had the last word.

"No, you won't miss me at all," she said sadly, reaching for the portable phone with one hand as she began to unpack her bags with the other.

* * * * *

Buffy waited patiently on the sofa for her 'family' to finish snack time. There was no hurry anymore; she had nowhere to go and nothing to do for the rest of her life but look after Dawn and the hellmouth.

She could tell they were surprised to see her sitting there as they trooped in from the kitchen, but she left them no time to form questions. This was her show, from here on out.

"I've decided to stay in Sunnydale." Position declared, reasons unnecessary to explain, at least as far as she was concerned.

"Oh, honey, I'm so glad." Joyce hurried over to embrace her daughter, a gesture said daughter accepted with tolerable grace. "You belong here with all of us. We can take care of you, and you'll see, soon this will all be just a bad memory."

Buffy stood up and quickly slipped out of her mother's arms. She and Joyce had shared a moment, but obviously the moment had passed.

"I'm setting down a few ground rules, though, and I expect them to be followed." Buffy gazed sternly at her assembled friends and family as she paced the length of the living room. "No more patrol parties. This is my job, and I will do it, but I will do it alone." She saw the protests forming on more than one set of lips and held up her hands to stop the words before they were born.

"No arguments. I hunt alone. Anyone who violates my privacy will have to answer for it, and you know what I'm capable of when I'm mad." She turned to Spike. "As for you, one more unwanted assist and you will be wearing the latest thing in wooden stakes as a lapel pin...for about as long as it takes you to go poof."

"Now that's gratitude for you," he grumbled into his mug of cocoa.

"But we always patrol with you," Willow said unhappily. "Not when you were with...well, anyone you'd rather have been alone with, but when you were alone we were with you."

"That was then, this is future now. As in from here on out," Buffy answered firmly. "Now, Rule Number 2: what to do when Buffy says it's time to get out of Dodge. There is bad stuff coming, like apocalypse bad."

"Again?" Xander whined

"When I think it will be hitting town," Buffy continued after a sharp look in Xander's direction, "I want all of you out of here and on your way to LA. There's a hotel called the Hyperion; Cordy and Wes and another guy named Gunn will be there. They'll take care of you and you can take care of them."

"I won't leave you, Buffy. I am your Watcher as well as someone who cares about you. I will be by your side until the end." Giles couldn't even believe she had suggested it. As if he would let her face the greatest evil by herself.

"You will leave when the time comes, if I have to knock you out, stuff you in a box and send you parcel post. I need to know all of you are safe, and if I have to fall back I only want one place I need to defend."

"None of us will go, Buff. We're a team. We stick together and we'll go out fighting." Xander looked to Willow and Giles, seeing the same resolve on their faces. "Sorry, Buffy; you're overruled."

"This is not negotiable."

"No, this is stupid," Anya said abruptly. "You can all yell about it until you turn blue in the face, which, by the way, I have cast spells to make people do, and it's not an easy skin tone to pull off, let me tell you."

"Anya, sweetie," Xander tried to interrupt. Tried and failed.

"But this is all just theoretical now anyway," she continued briskly. "Why not wait until the demon or demons are coming over the ridge and then start arguing over who gets to shoot at the whites of their eyes?" Anya saw the glazed looks on the faces of those around her turn to disbelief and hastened to explain. "What, can't a girl watch a few John Wayne movies when she gets bored?"

Buffy sighed, surrendering her position for the moment. "Fine, we'll fight about it then. But the no hunting rule is not up for discussion now or ever. I am staying here to do a job, and I won't let anyone get in my way."

* * * * *

They were still sitting in the living room discussing "what to do about Buffy" when the Slayer in question slipped out of the house to go on patrol. Hopefully her loved ones would be too busy being concerned about her to notice she was gone.

All the rest had been taken from her, but one small saving grace remained. It was to this that she had clung as she unpacked her bags and resigned herself to ending her days in Sunnydale. And it was for this that she insisted on solo patrols.

He was out there somewhere, waiting for her. And one way or another, on this plane or the next, she would find him.

* * * * *

To Be Continued