Chapter 10
"I can't find anything!" Giles slammed the book shut with one hand and hurled it to the floor. He was seriously stressed out, and developing a migraine.
"Well, I think I might have something. It's nothing new, I can't imagine why I didn't think of it before!" Willow babbled, half-excitedly, half- nervously. Giles shot over to the computer to peer over the girl's shoulder. She pointed at a line of text on the screen.
"See, it says here we have to find the witch, then either get her to tell us what spell she used and find a counter-spell, unless she'll do one for us, or chop off her head. Of course, the 'she' could be a 'he'."
"Well, I have no problem with maimin' and killin'. Didn't think it was your scene, though. Who ya gonna kill?" Faith strutted through the double swing doors and over to the mahogany table, pushing one of Giles' books to the floor to make space for her bottom on the table.
"Hopefully, no one. Faith, this business is about saving lives, not destroying them. If you want to help, please do. If not; get out." Giles responded calmly.
"Yeah, whatever." Faith bounced off the table, nearly knocking over one of the study lamps on it, and marched out of the library.
"Giles?"
"Hm?"
"How are we supposed to find this witch?"
"I have to say, Xander, that I really have no idea. I did, however, meet Faith and Buffy's new Watcher at a meeting a while back. I expect Wesley Wyndam-Pryce will know what to do for the best."
"What happens if he won't let Buffy hang out with us anymore?" Willow asked softly.
"Then the Council will probably lose Buffy as a Slayer, and we'll help her as before, only without the Council's help."
"Oh. Why didn't you sound sure that this new Watcher will know what to do?" To that, Giles turned to look at Buffy's friends.
"I'm not."
* * * * * *
Angel enfolded Buffy gently in his arms, loving her all the more in her vulnerability. Though worry gnawed away at him, it was relaxing to think that he didn't just help her fight demons; that she really did love him, and that he could be there for her in a non-demon capacity.
Buffy moaned faintly and her eyelids fluttered. Angel rocked her tenderly, wondering if she was hungry or thirsty, and whispering stories of his life to her, asking her forgiveness for the things he had done.
"Angel, you know you're already forgiven," she murmured. "I don't think of you and Angelus as the same person anymore. You're too different."
"You sweet," Angel responded, quoting her. "A terrible liar, but sweet." At the feeble swat she gave with the back of her hand, he grinned slightly and added, "That's how I know you weren't lying when you said that. So thank you."
Angel's deft reassurance caused Buffy to smile wanly. Angel returned the gesture, then leaned over and touched a short kiss to her forehead.
He prayed the others had found something useful as he drew gingerly away form his girlfriend's sweaty body.
* * * * * * A brown-eyed, black-haired girl knocked on the door, pushing it open slightly with her knuckles, then walked shyly into the library. Focusing on Giles, she said quietly, politely,
"I'm so sorry to bother you, but I believe I can help. May I have a word?" Her accent slipped between American and Irish as she posed the question.
"Of course," the English librarian replied genially. "Come this way." He showed her into his office.
The other students in the library simply stood, staring at the retreating tweed.
* * * * * *
Angel ripped irately at the packet of frozen blood. He was angry with himself for not being able to help Buffy, and frustrated that Buffy had forgiven him. For Angel's earlier thoughts had returned anew, and he desperately prayed that she would make things easier on him by telling him she couldn't stand the sight of him after what he'd done. At least then he wouldn't have to break up with her.
It wasn't fair of him to stay; he knew that. So why was it so damn difficult for him to leave? Why did he have to keep her locked in the dark of night, why did he expect her to just have a relationship under the cover of darkness like this? It wasn't right, or fair, or logical. As soon as she was better, he'd go.
* * * * * * Buffy lay on Angel's bed, staring up at the grey ceiling, and thought it was exactly like her life - bleak and desolate and lacking smiles and joy. Her heart told her to love Angel, but her head told her it could never work, and she should move on now, while she still could. But how could she do that, when the only peace she could find in her hectic life was with Angel? Her soul, her every atom, wanted him, needed him. Wanted to marry him and love him beyond death; beyond even the end of time. Yet that could never be.
She groaned as the pain escalated to yet greater heights, and allowed her world to slip into the welcoming blackness.
"I can't find anything!" Giles slammed the book shut with one hand and hurled it to the floor. He was seriously stressed out, and developing a migraine.
"Well, I think I might have something. It's nothing new, I can't imagine why I didn't think of it before!" Willow babbled, half-excitedly, half- nervously. Giles shot over to the computer to peer over the girl's shoulder. She pointed at a line of text on the screen.
"See, it says here we have to find the witch, then either get her to tell us what spell she used and find a counter-spell, unless she'll do one for us, or chop off her head. Of course, the 'she' could be a 'he'."
"Well, I have no problem with maimin' and killin'. Didn't think it was your scene, though. Who ya gonna kill?" Faith strutted through the double swing doors and over to the mahogany table, pushing one of Giles' books to the floor to make space for her bottom on the table.
"Hopefully, no one. Faith, this business is about saving lives, not destroying them. If you want to help, please do. If not; get out." Giles responded calmly.
"Yeah, whatever." Faith bounced off the table, nearly knocking over one of the study lamps on it, and marched out of the library.
"Giles?"
"Hm?"
"How are we supposed to find this witch?"
"I have to say, Xander, that I really have no idea. I did, however, meet Faith and Buffy's new Watcher at a meeting a while back. I expect Wesley Wyndam-Pryce will know what to do for the best."
"What happens if he won't let Buffy hang out with us anymore?" Willow asked softly.
"Then the Council will probably lose Buffy as a Slayer, and we'll help her as before, only without the Council's help."
"Oh. Why didn't you sound sure that this new Watcher will know what to do?" To that, Giles turned to look at Buffy's friends.
"I'm not."
* * * * * *
Angel enfolded Buffy gently in his arms, loving her all the more in her vulnerability. Though worry gnawed away at him, it was relaxing to think that he didn't just help her fight demons; that she really did love him, and that he could be there for her in a non-demon capacity.
Buffy moaned faintly and her eyelids fluttered. Angel rocked her tenderly, wondering if she was hungry or thirsty, and whispering stories of his life to her, asking her forgiveness for the things he had done.
"Angel, you know you're already forgiven," she murmured. "I don't think of you and Angelus as the same person anymore. You're too different."
"You sweet," Angel responded, quoting her. "A terrible liar, but sweet." At the feeble swat she gave with the back of her hand, he grinned slightly and added, "That's how I know you weren't lying when you said that. So thank you."
Angel's deft reassurance caused Buffy to smile wanly. Angel returned the gesture, then leaned over and touched a short kiss to her forehead.
He prayed the others had found something useful as he drew gingerly away form his girlfriend's sweaty body.
* * * * * * A brown-eyed, black-haired girl knocked on the door, pushing it open slightly with her knuckles, then walked shyly into the library. Focusing on Giles, she said quietly, politely,
"I'm so sorry to bother you, but I believe I can help. May I have a word?" Her accent slipped between American and Irish as she posed the question.
"Of course," the English librarian replied genially. "Come this way." He showed her into his office.
The other students in the library simply stood, staring at the retreating tweed.
* * * * * *
Angel ripped irately at the packet of frozen blood. He was angry with himself for not being able to help Buffy, and frustrated that Buffy had forgiven him. For Angel's earlier thoughts had returned anew, and he desperately prayed that she would make things easier on him by telling him she couldn't stand the sight of him after what he'd done. At least then he wouldn't have to break up with her.
It wasn't fair of him to stay; he knew that. So why was it so damn difficult for him to leave? Why did he have to keep her locked in the dark of night, why did he expect her to just have a relationship under the cover of darkness like this? It wasn't right, or fair, or logical. As soon as she was better, he'd go.
* * * * * * Buffy lay on Angel's bed, staring up at the grey ceiling, and thought it was exactly like her life - bleak and desolate and lacking smiles and joy. Her heart told her to love Angel, but her head told her it could never work, and she should move on now, while she still could. But how could she do that, when the only peace she could find in her hectic life was with Angel? Her soul, her every atom, wanted him, needed him. Wanted to marry him and love him beyond death; beyond even the end of time. Yet that could never be.
She groaned as the pain escalated to yet greater heights, and allowed her world to slip into the welcoming blackness.