Chapter 17: Things Have Changed
"So then the Pyleans made me their queen and worshipped me, which made for quite the ego-booster. Of course, we found that they weren't totally cool, them imprisoning, not to mention torturing Fred and all. But hey, at least they had good taste in their royalty huh?" Cordy flashed a bright smile as Xander shook his head in disbelief while Anya clutched nervously to his arm.
"Wow, I told you that out of all the senior superlatives, the one called "Most Likely to Be a Hell Queen" belonged to you, Cordelia," Xander was saying, a hint of sarcasm draining into his voice. Expecting Cordy to hit him back with a sardonic witticism, she just returned his snide comment with a slight smile.
"Oh how I've missed you Xander," she said drolly.
"Right back at ya, Cord," Xander said with a wink.
"See, I am not intimidated by that slight exchange," Anya said brightly, waving her hands. "Although you were once the supreme ruler of a far off dimension, I am the one who Xander has chosen as his procreational playmate, and therefore I choose to ignore what might be perceived as sexually-charged flirting between two formerly involved people." Anya smiled proudly as Cordy stared astounded.
"As if dating me wasn't enough for you Xan, this one sets a precedent," Cordy remarked, dazed and shaking her head. Anya beamed, taking that as a compliment.
Buffy walked in rather somberly, looking over her shoulder out the door. Angel, sitting on the couch, noticed it and gingerly rubbed his hands back and forth in discomfort. She turned and was astonished to be greeted by a warm Cordy.
"Cordelia!" she exclaimed as the ex-cheerleader caught her in a hug. "What are you doing here?"
"Oh I'm just here to help Angel," she said. Buffy frowned slightly, and turned to look at a twitching Angel.
"So basically everyone and their mother knew about this ritual and I didn't," she mumbled. She put her hands to her hips. "Why is that exactly?"
"We weren't exactly sure if we could have the proper ingredients and materials for the ritual," Tara tried to explain weakly, lugging a book up from the table. "You see, it's an incredibly difficult spell that might have dangerous consequences if we aren't extremely careful."
Buffy sank into the couch, next to Angel, them both gingerly scooting away from each other. "What exactly does this ritual do?" she asked, varying her timid glance from him to the Scoobies.
"It makes a warlock or a witch like Rack fully mortal," Tara explained as she leafed through the book and Buffy's eyes widened.
"Mortal? As in totally killable? Hack his internal organs into a million tiny pieces killable?"
"Yup," Xander said with his arm around Anya. "Isn't it the pick-me-up of the year?"
Buffy got up and paced. "I can't believe this! This is great! We're finally out of the woods!"
"It's not as easy as all that Buffy," Angel said quietly from the couch. "Any ritual calling for my blo . . . the blood of a vampire with a soul as the high probability of running amuck."
Buffy looked thoughtfully at him. "So that's why you're here." She paused once more to peer into his dark, brooding eyes. She turned to Tara. "How'd you guys dig up this ritual?"
Before Tara could respond, Anya interrupted her. "Spike found the ritual, something out of his bawdy tales of yore. Quite a piece of luck actually, since he remembered the ritual and right at the same time we got the concentric amulet in."
Buffy was shocked. "Spike found this ritual?" she squeaked.
'He was the one who called us Buffy," Cordy added. "It was hard to figure out it was him, he almost sounded like Giles with laryngitis on the phone."
"Spike called you guys?" Buffy continued to question, stupefied.
Angel could detect a strange tone in Buffy's voice. "Yeah, he said it was incredibly important."
"It was so weird, I mean, last time I saw him he was all 'death-rocks-long-live-carnal-violence," Cordy reflected. Buffy stood stock-still, trying to comprehend it all.
Spike had found the ritual. Why hadn't he told her? Was he trying to keep her away from Angel? She reflected on this angrily. But at the same time, she would have never even have thought that Spike could call Angel for something like this. He would have chewn off his right arm rather than see his grand-sire again. But he had done it. He had done it for Willow. He had done it for her.
"Buffy," Angel said softly, trying to draw her out of her reflective trance.
"Huh?" Buffy snapped to attention. "Oh." She strode back to the middle of the room and placed her hands on hips. "So tell me more about this ritual."
A response was loudly cut off by the sound of wailing upstairs. "Oh that's Conner!" Cordy exclaimed, running upstairs to get him.
"Who's Conner?" Buffy asked, perplexed. Xander was about to rushedly answer; his eyes goggled with excitement. Angel interrupted him.
"H-He's Wesley's kid," Angel said, voice strained.
Buffy frowned. "Wesley? Bookish, watcher Wesley actually got a girl to impregnate?"
Xander, shocked, opened him mouth wide to add something, but a fierce look from Angel silenced him.
"Look who it is," Cordy cooed as she brought down a swaddled, soft bundle. Angel's eyes lit up immediately.
Buffy wavered a bit, peeking over to see Conner's full, pudgy face. "Oh my gosh, he's so beautiful," she exclaimed, standing over Conner.
"Isn't he?" Cordy's face shone with love, and something burned in Angel when he saw that. "Did Angel tell you about---"
"About how Conner, this lovable infant here is Wesley's son?" Xander brusquely interrupted, prompting more stormy glances from Angel.
"Wesley's?!" Cordy looked with wide eyes to Angel who gave her a solemn look that sobered her. She understood. "Oh right, Wesley. Yeah, um, this is Conner, Wesley's son."
Buffy was still confused. "Who's the mother?"
"Umm, um, Fred!" Cordy said in a desperate attempt to protect Angel.
"Fred?" Anya wrinkled her nose. "Isn't that the girl you like, just saved from that alternate universe?"
"Oh, but she and Wesley hit it right off," Cordy tried to muster casually. "They met each other and POW. Going at it like bunnies they were."
"They were attacking each other like those bloodsucking mutants of death?!" Anya screeched, clinging to Xander, who merely patted her into tranquility. Cordy looked puzzled. Angel looked relieved.
"Let me hold him," Buffy urged, lightly kissing Conner's smooth forehead. Smiling, Cordy sat down on the couch while Buffy sat next to her and gingerly took Conner from her arms. Angel watched from where he stood quietly, absorbing the scene with both pleasure and pain. Here were the two most important women in his life sitting side by side, leaning in together to fawn over his child. Things had certainly changed.
Angel sat on the back porch in the darkness, soaking in the cool air and stillness. Sighing he looked up to the star-spotted sky and gripped his hands tightly. He was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he had not heard Cordy's quiet, catlike steps on the porch.
"Rough night huh?" she said quietly, sinking down to sit on the step next to him.
He shrugged. "I've had worse. I mean, sitting in a house with pizza and the Scoobs is rough, but not as harsh as battling the next Apocalypse."
"Coulda fooled me," Cordy remarked, swinging her hair aside. "That was some major tension right there. You would need like, a 20-pound ax to cut through the tension that was in that room."
Angel laughed. "Yeah, it was kind of awkward."
"Awkward?" Cordy looked at him sideways with astonishment. "In between the obvious vibes between you and Buffy, Xander's bubbling idiocy, Anya's amazing capacity for randomness and Conners' apparently new identity as Welsey's offspring, I'm thinking it made for a night quite unlike any night seen here in Sunnyhell. And that's saying a lot." Angel continued to laugh, feeling more at ease. He turned to smile earnestly at Cordy, which was reciprocated with her smiling back.
"I just couldn't tell her the truth about Conner, not just yet. I feel like we should be alone, have time to talk it out," Angel quietly reflected.
"I understand."
They sat silently for awhile, just smiling at each other until they heard Buffy yell at Dawn for breaking a dish. Angel's grin faded as soon as he heard Buffy's voice.
"Still hard?" Cordy asked gently.
Angel half-frowned. "I don't think 'easy' is a word that will ever describe my relationship with Buffy."
"Relationship?" Cordy's eyebrows raised as the word was said with caution.
Angel looked again at Cordy. He sighed. "Yeah, you're probably right. There's no relationship left between us." He straightened as he clasped his hands thoughtfully. "Well, that's not entirely true. I don't think that things will ever be over between me and Buffy,"-- he looked meaningfully into Cordy's eyes as he said it, "but I don't think that it will ever be anything more than that either."
Buffy watched Angel and Cordy on the steps from the kitchen window as she washed dishes. Part of her felt slightly pricked, as if someone was pinching her with a pin right in the middle of her heart. She didn't know why the way they sat---Angel and Cordy, reminded her of something. They looked so peaceful, so quiet and at ease with each other, not the agitated Angel Buffy had fidgeted around all evening. With Cordy he was grinning slightly, less tense, even less broody, more . . . himself. Then it hit her. They reminded her of Spike and herself.
Many times had Spike and Buffy sat perched on the back stoop, just gazing out into the night sky, not needing to say a word, but feeling comfort just in each other's presence. They often felt like the only two people in the world at those moments, and that was the only time when they truly made sense.
Watching Angel and Cordy sit and whisper so intimately tugged painfully at Buffy's heartstrings, but more than that, it brought to her attention the perplexing situation of Spike. Why had he not told her about this ritual? What would she do with him now that Angel was in town? How would Angel affect things with Spike? What exactly were 'things' with Spike? Buffy sighed as she rinsed the last plate. "A possessed Wiccan is one thing," she muttered. "But being involved with both of the two scourges of Europe? Nice going Buff."