Part 1: On the Healing Properties of Ice Cream
#
Buffy and Willow sat huddled together on Willow's bed and stared at the little TV screen in front of them, a big pot if ice cream between them. They had turned off all the lights in their dorm room, the only illumination coming from the TV and the latest video they were watching there.
Truth to tell Buffy had long lost track of what movie they were watching and what might be happening to its heroes and villains. Her thoughts kept turning elsewhere, moving to things she really did not want to think about. Not that her mind seemed to care.
She should be happy, should she not? She had survived High School despite everything Snyder, the Mayor, and hundreds of demons and vampires had done to prevent that from happening. She had graduated and gone to college where she was now bunking with her best friend instead of the fiendish demon girl that ironed her jeans. A new life was beginning and it should be great, a big adventure, whatever.
Only everything in her new life seemed to go wrong as of late. Hell, she might as well be honest with herself. Things had been wrong ever since Graduation night when the man she loved had left her standing amongst the smoke and ruins of Sunnydale High, all for her own good. Sometimes she almost laughed at how incredibly cliched it all sounded. Dramatic exit of the lover, leaving behind the heartbroken lass. Only it was not funny at all. It hurt too much to be.
She had tried to forget. Had tried to do what he wanted her to do. Find a normal life, find someone who could walk in the sun with her, have picnics in the park, all that stuff he had seemed to regard as so incredibly important for a good relationship. Now she did let out a chuckle, remembering how that had turned out. She had been so desperate to prove to him, and probably to herself as well, that she could have a normal relationship that it led her into the arms of that jerk Parker.
How could she have been so incredibly stupid to fall for his cheesy lines and sleep with him? How could she have been so stupid afterwards, even to the point of asking him if *she* had done something wrong. Spike had been right to laugh at her that day, she admitted. The mighty Slayer of the undead had behaved like a stupid little school girl.
Buffy looked over at her best friend, who was staring at the screen with eyes still red and puffy from crying. Just when things had seemed to go a little better for once the whole thing with Oz had happened. Oh, she was just too well aware of how very much Willow's situation now resembled her own. Granted, Angel had not cheated on her with another vampire as Oz had done with a fellow werewolf, but both of them had left town because they thought they were not good enough for their girlfriends, too dangerous to be around.
It had only been a few days for Willow and her best friend was hurting. Buffy well remembered how much it had hurt when Angel had told her he would leave. How it felt as if someone was tearing her heart out of her chest, as if she could not breathe anymore. It had taken her most of the long, lonely summer to get past the hurt and arrive at the conclusion that the only thing she could do was exactly what Angel wanted her to do. Go on with her life, try to find some pieces of normalcy among the dangers and battles. No matter how much she just wanted to curl up and die.
"I'm sorry, Buffy," Willow suddenly mumbled.
"Uh?"
"I said I'm sorry."
"Willow, what do you have to be sorry about?"
The redhead turned to look at her. "I ... I was such a bitch. All summer I tried to make you get over Angel by telling you to go out with someone else, to start over with a new guy. I ... I couldn't imagine how much it hurt and ..."
"Willow," Buffy interrupted her, "you don't have to feel sorry about that. Yes, it hurt terribly, but sooner or later I will have to get over it. You were right to tell me to move on."
As an afterthought she added, "only maybe you should have waited another month or two."
Willow laughed, but it sounded more like a sob. "I can't even imagine that it will ever stop hurting. I loved Oz so much and he just ... he just up and left. Even sent for his stuff without telling me and ..."
Buffy took her best friend into a hug and held while she cried again. She remembered very well how that felt. The first few days after Angel left had been an endless crying fest, at least once the numbness finally faded and realization that he was really gone finally set in. He had been part of her life for so long and somehow his leaving on his own was even worse than when he had been in Hell. At least then she had known that he still loved her, still wanted to be with her, only he could not.
Now, though, now she had to wrap her mind around the fact that he did not want to be with her. No, she corrected herself. She was not that much of a blonde. She knew that Angel wanted to be with her, just thought that he should not. The threat of Angelus' return, his own overwhelming guilt ... well, her friends probably had not helped much, either. Except maybe for Willow none of them had ever gotten over the events of that dreadful year when Angel had turned against them. Some of them had never even tried.
She shook her head, chasing the gloomy thoughts away. This was not about Angel and her. This was about Willow and Oz. Her best friend needed her right now and she would be there for her. A sad smile appeared on her lips when she realized that, sooner or later, she would have to give Willow the same advice her best friend had given her. Find someone new. Get over it. You can not spend your life with a memory.
It did not help that she still did not have even the slightest idea how to accomplish that little miracle for herself.
#
James Howell took out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his brow and looked at the huge stone door in front of him. The workers had needed over two days to completely unearth it and that had been the easiest part of this project.
He breathed in deep, telling himself over and over again that they were doing the right thing here. Dark times were coming, the prophecies said so. He himself had translated them and was certain that he had made no mistake, had not misinterpreted anything. The forces of light would need every edge they could get.
Having two Slayers around had been a great bonus, but now that one of them was out of commission (which was still better than having her work for the other side, he guessed) and the other, though still on the right path, fighting her battles independent from them, they needed a new edge.
Some days Howell wished that he had never read all the sealed records pertaining to the entity known as the Huntsman. It fell into his responsibility, of course, as the Council's head of research. For many generations only the head of the Council and the head of research had been privy to this information.
This circle had grown only recently to include Quentin Travers, current head of operations. The unique situation of having two Slayers at the same time had been discussed and researched vividly, which had, inevitably, led them to consider the possible interconnections with the Huntsman. Adding yet another complication to what was already a volatile situation.
Howell had spoken against activating the Huntsman. Interestingly enough so had Travers. Granted, his alternative plan of action would have included the cold-blooded termination of the girl Faith Capriss, but maybe it was precisely the fact that such a pragmatic man as him was opposed to this course of action as well that made Howell more certain than ever that this was a very bad idea.
Dame Cleary did not think so, though, and hers was the final word on this matter. They needed a new supernatural agent for the upcoming battles and they needed it now, while they had still time to train it. Howell had read the records pertaining to the Huntsman and knew that, under ideal circumstances, the Huntsman could be a tremendous asset to the Council and the side of light as a whole.
He just doubted that these were anywhere close to ideal circumstances.
"We have finished clearing the doorway," one of the workers informed him.
"Very well. Tell the mages they can begin whenever they are ready."
Howell turned his eyes back to the doorway in front of him. Huge and imposing, the black stone seemed impervious to the ravages of time. Its obsidian surface was covered with runes and symbols. Howell knew them all, of course, had spent the last few weeks researching them. How to break them.
Protection spells. Guardian runes. Ancient magic serving but one purpose. Making sure that the entity imprisoned behind the stone would never be able to break out. Unless, of course, those that had imprisoned it in the first place wanted it to.
Howell knew the story inside out by now. It had been the Watchers who had set this stone in its place, who had covered it with runes and spells to make it solid enough to withstand anyone or anything that tried to break it. Being who they were, though, they had also left a loophole. A way to break the spells. It was not easy. It required a whole lot of magic and intricate knowledge of the spells. The Council had both, of course.
Closing his eyes, Howell turned away from the door. Soon the mages would begin the complicated procedure of breaking the spells and unlocking this door. If all went according to plan they would be able to open it in about another two days.
Then the Huntsman would walk the Earth once more and Howell just prayed that they were doing the right thing here.
TO BE CONTINUED
#
Buffy and Willow sat huddled together on Willow's bed and stared at the little TV screen in front of them, a big pot if ice cream between them. They had turned off all the lights in their dorm room, the only illumination coming from the TV and the latest video they were watching there.
Truth to tell Buffy had long lost track of what movie they were watching and what might be happening to its heroes and villains. Her thoughts kept turning elsewhere, moving to things she really did not want to think about. Not that her mind seemed to care.
She should be happy, should she not? She had survived High School despite everything Snyder, the Mayor, and hundreds of demons and vampires had done to prevent that from happening. She had graduated and gone to college where she was now bunking with her best friend instead of the fiendish demon girl that ironed her jeans. A new life was beginning and it should be great, a big adventure, whatever.
Only everything in her new life seemed to go wrong as of late. Hell, she might as well be honest with herself. Things had been wrong ever since Graduation night when the man she loved had left her standing amongst the smoke and ruins of Sunnydale High, all for her own good. Sometimes she almost laughed at how incredibly cliched it all sounded. Dramatic exit of the lover, leaving behind the heartbroken lass. Only it was not funny at all. It hurt too much to be.
She had tried to forget. Had tried to do what he wanted her to do. Find a normal life, find someone who could walk in the sun with her, have picnics in the park, all that stuff he had seemed to regard as so incredibly important for a good relationship. Now she did let out a chuckle, remembering how that had turned out. She had been so desperate to prove to him, and probably to herself as well, that she could have a normal relationship that it led her into the arms of that jerk Parker.
How could she have been so incredibly stupid to fall for his cheesy lines and sleep with him? How could she have been so stupid afterwards, even to the point of asking him if *she* had done something wrong. Spike had been right to laugh at her that day, she admitted. The mighty Slayer of the undead had behaved like a stupid little school girl.
Buffy looked over at her best friend, who was staring at the screen with eyes still red and puffy from crying. Just when things had seemed to go a little better for once the whole thing with Oz had happened. Oh, she was just too well aware of how very much Willow's situation now resembled her own. Granted, Angel had not cheated on her with another vampire as Oz had done with a fellow werewolf, but both of them had left town because they thought they were not good enough for their girlfriends, too dangerous to be around.
It had only been a few days for Willow and her best friend was hurting. Buffy well remembered how much it had hurt when Angel had told her he would leave. How it felt as if someone was tearing her heart out of her chest, as if she could not breathe anymore. It had taken her most of the long, lonely summer to get past the hurt and arrive at the conclusion that the only thing she could do was exactly what Angel wanted her to do. Go on with her life, try to find some pieces of normalcy among the dangers and battles. No matter how much she just wanted to curl up and die.
"I'm sorry, Buffy," Willow suddenly mumbled.
"Uh?"
"I said I'm sorry."
"Willow, what do you have to be sorry about?"
The redhead turned to look at her. "I ... I was such a bitch. All summer I tried to make you get over Angel by telling you to go out with someone else, to start over with a new guy. I ... I couldn't imagine how much it hurt and ..."
"Willow," Buffy interrupted her, "you don't have to feel sorry about that. Yes, it hurt terribly, but sooner or later I will have to get over it. You were right to tell me to move on."
As an afterthought she added, "only maybe you should have waited another month or two."
Willow laughed, but it sounded more like a sob. "I can't even imagine that it will ever stop hurting. I loved Oz so much and he just ... he just up and left. Even sent for his stuff without telling me and ..."
Buffy took her best friend into a hug and held while she cried again. She remembered very well how that felt. The first few days after Angel left had been an endless crying fest, at least once the numbness finally faded and realization that he was really gone finally set in. He had been part of her life for so long and somehow his leaving on his own was even worse than when he had been in Hell. At least then she had known that he still loved her, still wanted to be with her, only he could not.
Now, though, now she had to wrap her mind around the fact that he did not want to be with her. No, she corrected herself. She was not that much of a blonde. She knew that Angel wanted to be with her, just thought that he should not. The threat of Angelus' return, his own overwhelming guilt ... well, her friends probably had not helped much, either. Except maybe for Willow none of them had ever gotten over the events of that dreadful year when Angel had turned against them. Some of them had never even tried.
She shook her head, chasing the gloomy thoughts away. This was not about Angel and her. This was about Willow and Oz. Her best friend needed her right now and she would be there for her. A sad smile appeared on her lips when she realized that, sooner or later, she would have to give Willow the same advice her best friend had given her. Find someone new. Get over it. You can not spend your life with a memory.
It did not help that she still did not have even the slightest idea how to accomplish that little miracle for herself.
#
James Howell took out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his brow and looked at the huge stone door in front of him. The workers had needed over two days to completely unearth it and that had been the easiest part of this project.
He breathed in deep, telling himself over and over again that they were doing the right thing here. Dark times were coming, the prophecies said so. He himself had translated them and was certain that he had made no mistake, had not misinterpreted anything. The forces of light would need every edge they could get.
Having two Slayers around had been a great bonus, but now that one of them was out of commission (which was still better than having her work for the other side, he guessed) and the other, though still on the right path, fighting her battles independent from them, they needed a new edge.
Some days Howell wished that he had never read all the sealed records pertaining to the entity known as the Huntsman. It fell into his responsibility, of course, as the Council's head of research. For many generations only the head of the Council and the head of research had been privy to this information.
This circle had grown only recently to include Quentin Travers, current head of operations. The unique situation of having two Slayers at the same time had been discussed and researched vividly, which had, inevitably, led them to consider the possible interconnections with the Huntsman. Adding yet another complication to what was already a volatile situation.
Howell had spoken against activating the Huntsman. Interestingly enough so had Travers. Granted, his alternative plan of action would have included the cold-blooded termination of the girl Faith Capriss, but maybe it was precisely the fact that such a pragmatic man as him was opposed to this course of action as well that made Howell more certain than ever that this was a very bad idea.
Dame Cleary did not think so, though, and hers was the final word on this matter. They needed a new supernatural agent for the upcoming battles and they needed it now, while they had still time to train it. Howell had read the records pertaining to the Huntsman and knew that, under ideal circumstances, the Huntsman could be a tremendous asset to the Council and the side of light as a whole.
He just doubted that these were anywhere close to ideal circumstances.
"We have finished clearing the doorway," one of the workers informed him.
"Very well. Tell the mages they can begin whenever they are ready."
Howell turned his eyes back to the doorway in front of him. Huge and imposing, the black stone seemed impervious to the ravages of time. Its obsidian surface was covered with runes and symbols. Howell knew them all, of course, had spent the last few weeks researching them. How to break them.
Protection spells. Guardian runes. Ancient magic serving but one purpose. Making sure that the entity imprisoned behind the stone would never be able to break out. Unless, of course, those that had imprisoned it in the first place wanted it to.
Howell knew the story inside out by now. It had been the Watchers who had set this stone in its place, who had covered it with runes and spells to make it solid enough to withstand anyone or anything that tried to break it. Being who they were, though, they had also left a loophole. A way to break the spells. It was not easy. It required a whole lot of magic and intricate knowledge of the spells. The Council had both, of course.
Closing his eyes, Howell turned away from the door. Soon the mages would begin the complicated procedure of breaking the spells and unlocking this door. If all went according to plan they would be able to open it in about another two days.
Then the Huntsman would walk the Earth once more and Howell just prayed that they were doing the right thing here.
TO BE CONTINUED