Rating: Still going with PG, although it's a pretty tame PG, at that
Feedback: Thank you kindly. Melpomenethalia@aol.com
Spoilers: Through season five's "The Gift"
Distribution: Here and eventually the Warren. If you're interested, please let me know.
Summary: Buffy jumped through the portal and died. But what happened to her next?
Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed the story. Somebody beep Buffy, because the next chapter is finally up!
Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy. Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you. Thank you.
Part 14"I'll take that as a yes," Darla muttered as she looked at the girl who had suddenly fallen onto the wet grass.
Drusilla and William were already in the midst of helping her to her very unsteady feet as she continued to stare unseeingly at everything around her.
"How… how did that happen?" she asked urgently. "How could I forget? What's wrong with me?"
"Now, now, don't distress yourself, dearie," Drusilla comforted her gently. "You couldn't possibly have remembered. The day was erased completely from your memory, just as it was from every other living soul's memory with the exception of his," she said as she nodded in Angel's direction. It was then that Drusilla's eyes widened in shock.
Angel had sensed something; of that she was certain. His face was turned directly towards them, almost as though he were trying to see them. Grief was still written large across his face, but with it now mixed confusion and recognition. Slowly, she saw him sniff the air, trying to detect the scent of whatever unseen force was present.
William, after making certain that Buffy was once again well enough to stand, had edged uncomfortably away from the others, and he was now standing none too far from Angel. He, too, noticed the change that came over the vampire's face, and though he was not possessed of Drusilla's extra gifts, he knew at once that Angel was aware of their presence. Instead of stepping back, he moved closer to the tall man, studying his face almost as though he were planning to paint his portrait. Whatever he saw there, it didn't settle his mind.
"You lucky sod," he murmured quietly, far out of hearing of anyone.
Angel's eyes continued to sweep the area where Darla and Dru were standing with the still-stricken Buffy, but he could see nothing.
Buffy, however, could. She could see a night when a long famine of tea and crackers had been broken by a feast of cookie dough mint fudge chip ice cream. She could see the drowsy, contented look he had given her that morning when her head had lain over his beating heart. She could see the pain in his face when he told her that all of this would be as though it had never been for everyone but him. She could see the wild, futile hope in his eyes as he pressed his lips to hers and she vowed never to forget.
And she could now recognize the agonized, forced vacancy in those same eyes when moments later she had coldly told him they shouldn't see each other again. It was too much even for her.
"Please," she whimpered quietly, "please, just… get me out of here… please?"
Strangely, it was Darla who took control, moving them in a breath of time from the cemetery to a green, flower-bedecked valley surrounded by towering, snowy mountains. The Slayer was still holding onto Drusilla's arm, and she had begun to cry once more, tiredly, as though she had forgotten how to do anything but cry. Drusilla cradled her gently, smoothing her hair back and allowing her to take as much time as she needed, softly whispering her a soothing litany of nonsense words.
Several minutes passed before William rejoined the group. He had stayed behind with the living long enough to see Angel dismiss his momentary revelation as a figment of grief while the others had lowered the Slayer's body into the ground. Considering the level of sorrow that had filled the tightly knit group as the first spade of earth had drifted down onto the handmade casket, he couldn't help but think that Buffy's exit had been well timed. She had seen enough unhappiness in her life without having to witness her loved ones crying tears she couldn't dry. Responding to his own thought, he produced a simple white cotton handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to Buffy with a bittersweet smile.
"Much nicer than Kleenex, I think you'll find," he assured her.
Buffy took it gratefully and dabbed at her eyes. Darla regarded her intently from a handful of paces away, oddly quiet. She was remembering her own time with Angel, a few brief moments that could have stretched on for days or weeks, perhaps even months before her eventual death if fate and a certain law firm hadn't intervened. Drusilla caught her look from above Buffy's bowed head, and the brunette's face crinkled in sadness. She had fought extremely hard with her other self that night, desperate to keep her from siring the woman before her, but the vampire's profound loneliness had won.
"I'm sorry," she mouthed at the deceptively fragile-looking soul before her, but Darla dismissed her guilt with a casual wave of her hand.
Buffy had calmed somewhat now. She sat on the grass wearily, plucking buttercups and thoughtlessly dismantling them between her fingers. William was soon seated beside her.
"Are you alright?"
"Why didn't he just tell me?" She had passed from sadness into anger with lightening quick speed. "I could have done something! We could have…"
William shook his head sadly at her. "No, Buffy. There's really nothing you could have done. Angel made a tremendous sacrifice, there's no doubt of that, and yes, perhaps it would have been better if he had spoken to you first before settling on his course of action, but he was only trying to protect you. And he did." He paused briefly before adding, "It was difficult for him, but it was right."
"Yeah. Right. You know, sometimes, 'right' really, really stinks," she complained bitterly.
"Yes, I suppose it does," William agreed.
"No argument here," Darla added half to herself.
For several minutes, the group simply stayed where they were, each pondering his or her own melancholy thoughts dismally. The occasional bird trill seemed completely out of place, and perhaps mirroring the group's mood, a few clouds obscured the sunlight, casting a grayish tinge on the verdant hillside. No one seemed able to break the silence, for no one had the heart to. No one, that is, except…
"Hey! You guys left me behind! Took me forever to catch up. So, what did you think? Geez, you like, saved the world; couldn't they have popped for something a little nicer than cheap, pink-dyed carnations? Talk about tacky…"
Four heads swiveled as one towards the ditz, various expressions of total disbelief scrawled on their faces. And then, it happened.
Buffy started to giggle. It was the smallest sound at first, a mostly-swallowed sniffling that began from her nose and threatened to boil over to her mouth. When the tremors of laughter shook her belly, she exploded into a chorus of guffaws that proved highly contagious as the other three slowly gave way to their own chuckles.
"What? What'd I say?"
By this time Buffy had fallen over completely and was grasping her sides as they ached, rolling about helplessly until her head banged against William's knee and she left it nestled there as peals of laughter continued to escape her. Thankfully, due to everyone else's merriment, William's abrupt intake of breath and sudden coughing attack were overlooked completely.
"Nothing at all, Harmony sweetheart," Drusilla managed to choke out at last. "So, you enjoyed the nail polish, I see?"
"Hmm? Oh, yeah! See?" she said wiggling her violet fingernails before her. "Goes perfectly with the dress, too. It's so hard to decide what to wear to a funeral when you're already dead, don't you think?"
Darla bit her lip quite hard in response as she looked at the others pleadingly.
"Yes, well, I can see the dilemma there, I suppose," William tactfully interposed, trying to change the topic before Darla imploded from trying to restrain her frustration. "How are things going with that new arrival you were showing around? What was his name?"
"Jose. He just got turned in Columbia two weeks ago. Adjusting pretty well, though. And such a babe!" she squealed happily. "He totally dotes on me. Kinda like you and Buffy. Well, maybe not that much. I mean, you're completely in love with her an stuff. But him and me and you and her should double date some time! It'd be so much fun!"
William was suddenly much paler than Spike. "I… um… that is…"
Buffy's head had immediately snapped up from the ground. "What?"
His face now having progressed from paper white to beet red, William was suddenly highly interested in the botanical structure of a nearby violet. Harmony looked on in complete cluelessness, which was actually her normal expression. Buffy was regarding William with disbelief.
At long last, Darla rolled her eyes skyward and practically hollered, "You can't possibly be that stupid! Of course he's in love with you! He's been in love with you for two and a half years! For crying out loud, William, you were tucked away alone with her for the whole night, and you still didn't tell her? Why did you think Dru and I cleared out to begin with?"
"Darla…" Drusilla interrupted quietly.
"I get that you're shy! I get that you're a Victorian romantic who swoons over things like the shape of her wrist bone and the size of her front teeth! I get that the one and only kiss you ever got when you still had a heartbeat was immediately followed by you falling down dead! But, William, for pity's sake…"
"Darla!" Drusilla fairly screamed, sounding surprisingly like her other self for a moment. "Leave him in peace!"
But it was far too late. The place where William had sat only moments before was nothing but empty air now. He had completely disappeared.
"You know something, Dar?" Harmony said in a superior tone. "Sometimes, you can really put your foot in your mouth."