A/N: Again, read my story "The Diary of Grace McCormack" to tie up any loose ends of stuff you don't understand. I don't want a load of reviews saying "Huh? What? I don't get this, I'm going to flame you now to high hell". If you do do that, I'll set Fangz on you. OK then.
Disclaimer: What? I'm not doing this @~*^%! pile of $%@^**?!!! Yes, this stupid pile of writing. Why, what else did you think I said? ;-P You know what I own, all the rest belongs to Joss Whedon and Sky One/Channel Two.
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The Bronze wasn't exactly the best place to go to talk about incidents, but at least the backround noise was a good cover-up for the weird conversation they were about to have. And it wasn't as if there was anywhere else to go.
Angel watched Gracia from across the table as she twisted the bracelet on her wrist nervously. The silence between the two was ever growing, and he knew he had to kill it off first.
"So. Gracey. Tell me about yourself."
She glanced up and laughed, in a slightly chilling way. "What is there to tell?" she asked. "You know it all already."
Angel knew what he was about to say made perfect sense, but then again, it was ridiculous. Eventually he managed to choke out, "You're my sister, aren't you?"
The girl paused, then nodded slowly. "Yes. I'm your sister reincarnated."
"How much do you...how much do you remember?"
"Everything. I know that my old name- my real name- was Grace Eliza McCormack and that we lived in Galway in the eighteenth century with our parents and three younger siblings, two girls and a boy. I can remember their names, the names of friends, and..." She trailed off for a moment, wondering how to word it. She decided for the direct approach. "And how they, we, died."
Angel stared shamefully down at the table. Gracia folded her hand on top of his and he looked up into her dark eyes.
"It wasn't your fault," she said clearly. "You lost your soul, your identity. How did you get it back anyway?"
He told her of the gypsy curse that had brought back his tortured soul a hundred and ten years ago. She listened intently and seriously to every word. Then he realised something.
"Your parents. Are they..." Hope surged through his veins. If he had found his sister, maybe his family would be just down the line.
She shook her head sadly. "No. I'm sorry. I'm adopted. Social Services refuse to hand out any information like that 'till the child's eighteen. All I know is that my parents are dead and that I was found alone in the streets of Ireland as a baby."
Angel's head hung miserably. Never had he felt so upset and disappointed, even when he had regained his soul and remembered his countless innocent victims.
"Cheer up a bit," Gracia said. "At least you don't have to adjust that much to a new me."
"What do you mean?" Again he looked up at her. She shrugged.
"Well, even my name's the same, give or take a few letters. I look the same, breath the same, my accent's still Irish for the time being, and my attitude's still the same. All in all, I'm identical to the last time you saw me." She smiled at him, and he couldn't help but smile back a bit. At least she was here.
Angel stared around the Bronze, thinking. It seemed just yesterday when he used to come here with Buffy and the Scoobies. Now she was dead, and the group scattered. Less than ten years after they used to come in here on dates, she lay cold in her grave, with The Powers that Be fighting off any ressurrection. Willow and Tara had moved to Boston. Xander and Anya had married and moved to New York. Giles lived in England. Dawn was at university. The only one left in Sunnydale was Spike, not that anyone saw much of him. Since he saw Buffy die for the last time, he had become mainly reclusive.
"How come you're here, sister?"
She shrugged again. "Dunno. I was adopted at five by the McCormicks, we lived in Belfast 'till we moved to Washington D.C. a month ago. Three days ago, my parents' job opportunities meant we had to come here." She paused for a moment, then continued. "D'you know, I've always known that I lived before. Even when I was at the children's home. I used to sit at the window and when people asked me why I was there, I said that my big brother was coming to find me. They didn't think anything of it, a lot of kids were like that there. They always say stuff like, 'Oh, my dad's gonna take me back today, you see'. Then they're not even disappointedd when it doesn't happen, 'cause they know it won't. But I was. I always thought you'd come for me, and I was half-way between happy about it and scared. But then I grew up and realised you didn't know I was around. How about you?"
"The Powers That Be told me to come to greet the new Slayer. Guess they knew who you were."
"Of course they did. Big, scary powers, they gotta know who their Slayer is." Gracia told him. They both laughed slightly, then silence came back. They just looked at each other, too happy at meeting at last to say anything.
Presently, Angel took a box out of his pocket and pushed it across the table towards her. She raised an eyebrow quizzicaly.
"Open it." He said softly. She reached out, pulled it towards her, and opened it slowly. When she saw what was inside, her eyes widened and she gasped slightly-
As she brought out a silver crucifix on a cord-like silver chain.
"Liam..."
The sound of his original name made him wince. It brought back painful memories of Galway, especially of his last night of life. When he had argued with his father and left...to later be killed and sired by Darla.
"Angel. Call me Angel."
"Sorry. Angel. Thank you so much." Gracia said as she put it round her neck. "Why'd you give it to me?"
He took a couple of breaths as a comfort thing to calm himself down before starting on the answer. "It belonged to another Slayer. Three before you. Her name was Buffy."
Gracia understood the look of pain in his eyes and nodded understandingly. "You two had history together." It was a statement, not a question, and he nodded.
"Yes. She was supposed to be the strongest Slayer ever. Then she died, killed in battle. Suppose she'd been too strong for too long. Finally met her match. And we couldn't bring her back, the Powers forbade it." He got choked up here, remembering Buffy. Gracia understood.
"You don't have to tell me if it's too painful." she murmured.
"That's OK." he said. "I'm fine. Anyway, when she died, the Slayer called Faith-the one before you- attempted to go after the demon that had killed her. She eventually found it and was killed in battle. But she took the demon with her in death. Then you were called."
Gracia nodded, then glanced at her watch. She swore loudly and jumped up. "Damn, I have to go back. Mum'll have a fit if I'm not back soon."
Angel stood up as well. "Gracey, when do I get to see you again?"
She smiled slightly. "Some time. Around, I guess." She hugged him in a sisterly fashion, but pulled away quickly when he started to burn. "Oops, sorry, I forgot about the cross."
Through his pain, he smiled back. "Don't worry. You'd better go."
"Sure. It was great to see you, brother." She considered for a second. "Wether you're Liam or Angel."
With that, she left quickly, leaving Angel deep in thought about the dark past.
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This was dedicated to all those who reviewed Grace's diary. Thank you so much for praising it although I got it wrong and thought his original name was Angelus and not Liam. Please forgive me, 'cause I haven't seen any Angel episodes and not that many Buffy ones...I really need to do that don't I? You can't see me now, but I'm cursing my stupidness. Thank you so much anyways, I truly appreciate it! Oh, and about Angel's sister being called Kathleen...that is sorted out. I made up more than one sister for him. This one, one called Phyllis, and one called Kathleen. Kathleen was named after their mother, and cause that would be confusing, she was called Jane as that was her middle name. See?
Now review, or face my mafia mob! ;-) Just kiddin'. You reckon.