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What Is To Be
-Third-
By Annie
2003-09-10
¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ ¤¤¤¤¤¤
"'As the year closes there will be a tremor felt in the earth and it will cause the clock to turn and four times four will open the eyes of that which is blind. And as it once again sees, all those in its sight shall be doomed forever to walk in its shadow and it shall reign in an era of terror and death. And the heavens will cry tears of blood and they shall rain down upon he who is damned and he shall drink them and they shall cleanse him for his final task. And only one other...'" Wesley stopped his reciting from the parchment in his hand, putting it down on the table and Buffy raised her eyebrows.
"'And only one other' what?" she asked.
"That's the thing," Angel replied in the other man's stead. "The prophecy was allegedly torn in two pieces about three-hundred years ago. One piece being sent to France - that's the piece we have here; and the other being traded to China - that being the piece no one knows where it is," he added with a sigh.
"And you have no idea what this thing is, that's supposed to be waking up?" she asked and he shook his head. "Okay... Well, then where did it come from? It had to be born from somewhere, right? If we can find the place of its origin, maybe we can find a way of stopping it."
"The prophecy was made by a man known in the demon world as Alliande, it was written down over three-THOUSAND years ago... In English the word 'Alliande' stands for Teller or Foreseer," Wesley stated. "He is estimated to have documented over one hundred prophecies during his life, which wasn't a very long one. In human history he's regretfully unheard of. We have found no traces of him anywhere."
"And since the demonic world is situated in estrangement with the mortal world there is no telling of where Alliande was when he foretold this, or where this blind monster is originating from," Fred cut in with a rather shy smile, though Buffy couldn't return it.
These news were even worse than she had been expecting. They had reached a dead end without even beginning.
"Okay, so in other words you don't know where it's supposed to take place, you don't know what Big Bad you're dealing with, you don't know who the text is referring to as 'the damned'..."
"Well," Wesley cut in and she paused, waiting for him to elaborate; which he did, all be it hesitantly. "Given the contents of the text and that the parchment was at a very special place at Wolfram and Hart, as well as what you have told us of your dreams... It seems quite obvious that..."
He trailed off and she began to feel a stir of discomfort at the nape of her neck right before Angel spoke up and confirmed her suspicion by saying:
"It's clear that the prophecy refers to me. We found it among my files at Wolfram and Hart and I know that their analysts must've spent many good hours on it before they had it categorized."
"You're not a 'category'," Buffy snapped and he blinked before his gaze softened.
"All we know about what's up ahead is that we're supposed to be there for it, otherwise we wouldn't have been offered the prophecy in the first place," he said and she shook her head a little, glaring at her hands, which were holding each other in a tight grip on the table.
"Couldn't they just make them illegal?" she muttered. "The knowing-too-much- of-the-future deal in this whole lifestyle we're living is just a major stress factor, you know?"
She looked up and met his eyes with her own, and he smiled.
"Yeah, I know," he then assured.
"It's not the future yet," Cordelia cut in. "And we won't let it be. We're still searching the books on any sort of animal or demon fitting the description. We might still find something, there are a lotta books out there."
"Don't get me wrong," Buffy said as she stood. "I respect a good book as much as the next person. But not all answers can be found in them."
"Oh, we've combed the streets for information, too," Gunn stated. "And with a fine-toothed comb, at that; but none of our sources has given us anything worth knowing and after a few weeks of a whole lotta nothing we called it quits. Headed back to the library."
"Perfect," Buffy grumbled, side-stepping her chair adding: "The research department was always my strong suit."
Angel smiled at that, as did Cordelia, and Buffy returned their smiles wearily. She was tired. She had gotten nearly an hour's worth of sleep before, but it hadn't been enough. Jet-lag was taking it out on her big time and she felt exhausted. Looking at her wrist-watch she determined it was close to two o'clock in the morning back in good old England.
"I know it's still early," she said, suppressing a yawn at the thought of her bed just up the stairs. "But I could definitely use a couple of hours more sleep in me if we're gonna go through all this 'til it makes sense. I hope you don't mind...?"
"'Course not," Cordelia assured. "We'll order pizza in an hour-and-a-half or so and then I'll come up and wake you when it's delivered."
"Okay," Buffy nodded, having a look around at the assembled group in the room and smiling as she added: "It's good to finally meet all of you. Too bad it's under these circumstances."
Susannah held her gaze for a moment and was about to say something when Buffy saw Cordelia place a hand on the other's arm, obviously stopping her and Buffy furrowed her brow as she turned around and left the room.
Something was going on! It was driving her crazy not knowing why everybody was looking at each other so meaningfully at times, and why there seemed to be words unsaid that refused to be spoken. Or wouldn't be permitted to be spoken, more like it.
Getting upstairs and climbing into bed she pushed any further thought out of her head and sunk down against the soft pillow, easing her way into sleep and her last few hours of what even resembled peace.
***
Almost three hours later Buffy rose from her chair at the table in the small room where they earlier had held their conference. Now that table was littered with pizza boxes, half-eaten pizza slices on plates and crumpled up paper-towels. The people around it all looked rather drowsy and were having quiet conversations in two's or three's.
Buffy left the room, walking through the foyer and not stopping until she reached the open door of Angel's office. She stepped through it and smiled as he looked up from the paper work he was doing.
"A lot of that, huh?" she asked with a nod to the desk and he smirked.
"Running a business, you know," he shrugged and she chuckled, crossing her arms over her chest as she entered the room.
"Angel Investigations," she then said, as though tasting the two words. "I like the ring of it," she admitted and he smiled at that.
"So do I," he nodded, getting to his feet and abandoning his project for coming around the desk and facing her. "Buffy... there's something I should tell you. I'm just not sure...how..."
She looked quizzical and he braced himself, about to continue when the sound of the front door being thrown open and then steps down the stairs stopped him. What made Buffy's eyes fill with wonderment and slowly building shock was neither of these sounds, but that of a voice
to her swallowed by fire
that yelled:
"Angel!"
Her eyes were growing painfully wide as she stared at the namesake. He looked apologetic and hesitant.
She didn't believe it.
It was impossible.
"I didn't find anything in that book of Venus that you suggested," the voice now said and she could hear his feet approaching, halting as hands ruffled through loose paper before the feet continued on their path and then the voice again: "But I DID find a diary that has belonged to Aphrodite and I'm telling you, that girl had some really twisted..." Buffy turned her head to the voice as the owner came to stopping short in the doorway. "...fantasies," he then filled in; staring at the last person he ever would have expected to see.
She stared back. Stared at his face, at the form of him that was beginning to blur and yet kept its persistency in being there with all its familiarity, stared at his mouth, his left eyebrow - which was missing its trademark scar... stared into his eyes.
It was a wave of pain and memories and happiness and memories and weakness and memories and memories and memories that came crashing over her as she took in the blue jeans he was in, the blue sweater... the casual manner of how he was there, when he shouldn't be. He couldn't be. How could he be there?
The image of him burning stung her eyes and she closed them, shaking her head slowly and taking a steadying breath. This wasn't real. She was hallucinating again.
Stop, Buffy... Stop, she told herself, knowing that the hurt from having to make him disappear again would as always be great; but that it in the end was better than having him and yet never not.
Only, when she opened her eyes again he was still there, taking her in with seemingly as much shock as she was him.
And then a new emotion began to fill her with gray and hard stone that weighed out everything else and she turned a hardened gaze at Angel as she asked:
"What is this - some kind of a sick joke?"
He shook his head with a deeply regretful look on his face which did absolutely nothing to ease the heaviness of the lump inside of her. She would have hit him, if she had felt she had the energy for such an outburst; but her rage was simmering, laced with confusion, and simply not yet reaching the boiling point which would make it impossible to contain.
"Buffy..."
Oh, God... was all she could think as she turned her head sharply to look back at the other man, who had just said her name.
His voice... His voice saying her name like that... It was too much, she couldn't breathe. She couldn't stand up. She couldn't be in there, in that room, cornered by a vampire and a ghost. Her head was spinning and she felt as though she had just been slapped in the face by that simple word. One that should be the most well-known word in all the world to her.
Perhaps that was the problem. She had heard that voice whisper that word so many times in her dreams that...
Oh, God.
She put her hands up as some sort of shield, as some sort of sign for both of them to not say anything, to not do anything to try and prevent her as she took the steps up to the door and without looking at the one blocking her way she slipped out to his left and then proceeded across the foyer and up the stairs.
"That went well," Angel sighed and Spike stared at him with such a lack of words that he felt as though he had lost his tongue in the literal sense.
And then they hit him.
"What the bleeding hell?!" he exclaimed and Angel looked up, his exterior calm as he faced the anticipated storm. "What is she doing here?" Spike added.
"I sent for her," Angel replied simply.
"You 'sent' for her?" Spike asked, disbelieving.
"I sent her a letter," Angel stated and Spike's eyebrows rose.
"A letter?"
"Yes, you remember those - the tool of communication so popular back in the day," Angel answered dryly.
"You can mock me all you bloody want..." Spike began, Angel cutting him off with a brief smile which made the already burning insides of the other grow one degree hotter.
"It's funny," the dark-haired said, "how you slip so easily into that old accent whenever you get angry."
"Well, how many MORTALS don't bloody curse when they're pissed off?" Spike shot, aggravated.
"Fine," Angel nodded. "You deal with it anyway you wish."
"'DEAL with IT anyway I WISH'?!" Spike mimicked, staring at the other.
"Yes, she's here to help."
"To 'help'."
"You know, this whole showing how shocked you are by repeating everything I say is all good - but we don't seem to be getting anywhere," Angel remarked.
"I'll show you 'getting somewhere'!" Spike growled, stalking up to the other and doing what Buffy had not as he hit him hard over the chin.
As Angel turned his head back to the bleached blonde the latter grabbed the hand which had just performed the task with a slight grimace of pain on his face and the vampire smiled again.
"William, William," he then said in a rather patient tone, adding: "Still finding it so hard to remember you're human?"
Spike met his eyes with one growing venomous before he got out between clenched jaws:
"She shouldn't 've found out like that. You should've bloody told me she was coming!"
"I didn't know 'til she arrived," Angel defended. "I'm sorry," he added. "Truly. I didn't want her to find out like that either... but I knew she wouldn't believe me if I just told her."
"Had to be the regular gentleman then, eh, Angie?" Spike asked with a huff. "Had to wait 'til the right moment? Bloody lotta good it did you. Or her."
He turned, shaking his head and then left the room the same way his Slayer had just a few minutes earlier. As he crossed the foyer he avoided the stairs and headed for the large glass doors leading out into the small yard and un-kept garden. All he could think was: she was there.
She was there.
He could hardly believe it was true, that she was just a staircase and a closed door away from him. It felt surreal, his mind couldn't process it. It felt like forever since he had seen her last... But it really wasn't. It was just a few piled up moments of tension ago. When she stared at him in a way he had trouble processing... He didn't know what he had seen in her eyes.
But somehow it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered now but the need to tell her everything...
And... she was there.
**************************************************************************** **************************************************************************** **************************************************************************** ******************
Awesome that you're liking it so far! Thanks a lot for sending me a shout out, it is very appreciated!
Special thanks to those who answered my questions at the end of the last chapter! It was very helpful! I couldn't find a date on the WB site for when the first episode was going to air of S5 and so I just thought it best to proceed as though it already have, I'm very glad that it hasn't yet, actually. :)
Warm thanks to maribel, Pin1, msu (for both!), skybound, wolf116, Rachel9, Shan, skyz, demona, kathypg, Captain and Fifi!
It's more than great reading all your wonderful comments! I love it that this is something you can agree with 'cause I'm so frigging worried about what Joss has got planned for us. Or rather, for Spike and Angel and Buffy... IF SMG decides she has the time and want to actually finish the whole thing! Okay, so enough of that. You gave me really great information, but again, I just might go my very own way with this depending on what fits the story-line I have in mind for myself! Oh, speaking of which, Susannah is my own character, yeah. ;)
Okay, really hope you liked this chapter as well and if anything was... unclear, don't hesitate to ask me about it.
*hugs all* :)
A.M.L, Annie.
What Is To Be
-Third-
By Annie
2003-09-10
¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ ¤¤¤¤¤¤
"'As the year closes there will be a tremor felt in the earth and it will cause the clock to turn and four times four will open the eyes of that which is blind. And as it once again sees, all those in its sight shall be doomed forever to walk in its shadow and it shall reign in an era of terror and death. And the heavens will cry tears of blood and they shall rain down upon he who is damned and he shall drink them and they shall cleanse him for his final task. And only one other...'" Wesley stopped his reciting from the parchment in his hand, putting it down on the table and Buffy raised her eyebrows.
"'And only one other' what?" she asked.
"That's the thing," Angel replied in the other man's stead. "The prophecy was allegedly torn in two pieces about three-hundred years ago. One piece being sent to France - that's the piece we have here; and the other being traded to China - that being the piece no one knows where it is," he added with a sigh.
"And you have no idea what this thing is, that's supposed to be waking up?" she asked and he shook his head. "Okay... Well, then where did it come from? It had to be born from somewhere, right? If we can find the place of its origin, maybe we can find a way of stopping it."
"The prophecy was made by a man known in the demon world as Alliande, it was written down over three-THOUSAND years ago... In English the word 'Alliande' stands for Teller or Foreseer," Wesley stated. "He is estimated to have documented over one hundred prophecies during his life, which wasn't a very long one. In human history he's regretfully unheard of. We have found no traces of him anywhere."
"And since the demonic world is situated in estrangement with the mortal world there is no telling of where Alliande was when he foretold this, or where this blind monster is originating from," Fred cut in with a rather shy smile, though Buffy couldn't return it.
These news were even worse than she had been expecting. They had reached a dead end without even beginning.
"Okay, so in other words you don't know where it's supposed to take place, you don't know what Big Bad you're dealing with, you don't know who the text is referring to as 'the damned'..."
"Well," Wesley cut in and she paused, waiting for him to elaborate; which he did, all be it hesitantly. "Given the contents of the text and that the parchment was at a very special place at Wolfram and Hart, as well as what you have told us of your dreams... It seems quite obvious that..."
He trailed off and she began to feel a stir of discomfort at the nape of her neck right before Angel spoke up and confirmed her suspicion by saying:
"It's clear that the prophecy refers to me. We found it among my files at Wolfram and Hart and I know that their analysts must've spent many good hours on it before they had it categorized."
"You're not a 'category'," Buffy snapped and he blinked before his gaze softened.
"All we know about what's up ahead is that we're supposed to be there for it, otherwise we wouldn't have been offered the prophecy in the first place," he said and she shook her head a little, glaring at her hands, which were holding each other in a tight grip on the table.
"Couldn't they just make them illegal?" she muttered. "The knowing-too-much- of-the-future deal in this whole lifestyle we're living is just a major stress factor, you know?"
She looked up and met his eyes with her own, and he smiled.
"Yeah, I know," he then assured.
"It's not the future yet," Cordelia cut in. "And we won't let it be. We're still searching the books on any sort of animal or demon fitting the description. We might still find something, there are a lotta books out there."
"Don't get me wrong," Buffy said as she stood. "I respect a good book as much as the next person. But not all answers can be found in them."
"Oh, we've combed the streets for information, too," Gunn stated. "And with a fine-toothed comb, at that; but none of our sources has given us anything worth knowing and after a few weeks of a whole lotta nothing we called it quits. Headed back to the library."
"Perfect," Buffy grumbled, side-stepping her chair adding: "The research department was always my strong suit."
Angel smiled at that, as did Cordelia, and Buffy returned their smiles wearily. She was tired. She had gotten nearly an hour's worth of sleep before, but it hadn't been enough. Jet-lag was taking it out on her big time and she felt exhausted. Looking at her wrist-watch she determined it was close to two o'clock in the morning back in good old England.
"I know it's still early," she said, suppressing a yawn at the thought of her bed just up the stairs. "But I could definitely use a couple of hours more sleep in me if we're gonna go through all this 'til it makes sense. I hope you don't mind...?"
"'Course not," Cordelia assured. "We'll order pizza in an hour-and-a-half or so and then I'll come up and wake you when it's delivered."
"Okay," Buffy nodded, having a look around at the assembled group in the room and smiling as she added: "It's good to finally meet all of you. Too bad it's under these circumstances."
Susannah held her gaze for a moment and was about to say something when Buffy saw Cordelia place a hand on the other's arm, obviously stopping her and Buffy furrowed her brow as she turned around and left the room.
Something was going on! It was driving her crazy not knowing why everybody was looking at each other so meaningfully at times, and why there seemed to be words unsaid that refused to be spoken. Or wouldn't be permitted to be spoken, more like it.
Getting upstairs and climbing into bed she pushed any further thought out of her head and sunk down against the soft pillow, easing her way into sleep and her last few hours of what even resembled peace.
***
Almost three hours later Buffy rose from her chair at the table in the small room where they earlier had held their conference. Now that table was littered with pizza boxes, half-eaten pizza slices on plates and crumpled up paper-towels. The people around it all looked rather drowsy and were having quiet conversations in two's or three's.
Buffy left the room, walking through the foyer and not stopping until she reached the open door of Angel's office. She stepped through it and smiled as he looked up from the paper work he was doing.
"A lot of that, huh?" she asked with a nod to the desk and he smirked.
"Running a business, you know," he shrugged and she chuckled, crossing her arms over her chest as she entered the room.
"Angel Investigations," she then said, as though tasting the two words. "I like the ring of it," she admitted and he smiled at that.
"So do I," he nodded, getting to his feet and abandoning his project for coming around the desk and facing her. "Buffy... there's something I should tell you. I'm just not sure...how..."
She looked quizzical and he braced himself, about to continue when the sound of the front door being thrown open and then steps down the stairs stopped him. What made Buffy's eyes fill with wonderment and slowly building shock was neither of these sounds, but that of a voice
to her swallowed by fire
that yelled:
"Angel!"
Her eyes were growing painfully wide as she stared at the namesake. He looked apologetic and hesitant.
She didn't believe it.
It was impossible.
"I didn't find anything in that book of Venus that you suggested," the voice now said and she could hear his feet approaching, halting as hands ruffled through loose paper before the feet continued on their path and then the voice again: "But I DID find a diary that has belonged to Aphrodite and I'm telling you, that girl had some really twisted..." Buffy turned her head to the voice as the owner came to stopping short in the doorway. "...fantasies," he then filled in; staring at the last person he ever would have expected to see.
She stared back. Stared at his face, at the form of him that was beginning to blur and yet kept its persistency in being there with all its familiarity, stared at his mouth, his left eyebrow - which was missing its trademark scar... stared into his eyes.
It was a wave of pain and memories and happiness and memories and weakness and memories and memories and memories that came crashing over her as she took in the blue jeans he was in, the blue sweater... the casual manner of how he was there, when he shouldn't be. He couldn't be. How could he be there?
The image of him burning stung her eyes and she closed them, shaking her head slowly and taking a steadying breath. This wasn't real. She was hallucinating again.
Stop, Buffy... Stop, she told herself, knowing that the hurt from having to make him disappear again would as always be great; but that it in the end was better than having him and yet never not.
Only, when she opened her eyes again he was still there, taking her in with seemingly as much shock as she was him.
And then a new emotion began to fill her with gray and hard stone that weighed out everything else and she turned a hardened gaze at Angel as she asked:
"What is this - some kind of a sick joke?"
He shook his head with a deeply regretful look on his face which did absolutely nothing to ease the heaviness of the lump inside of her. She would have hit him, if she had felt she had the energy for such an outburst; but her rage was simmering, laced with confusion, and simply not yet reaching the boiling point which would make it impossible to contain.
"Buffy..."
Oh, God... was all she could think as she turned her head sharply to look back at the other man, who had just said her name.
His voice... His voice saying her name like that... It was too much, she couldn't breathe. She couldn't stand up. She couldn't be in there, in that room, cornered by a vampire and a ghost. Her head was spinning and she felt as though she had just been slapped in the face by that simple word. One that should be the most well-known word in all the world to her.
Perhaps that was the problem. She had heard that voice whisper that word so many times in her dreams that...
Oh, God.
She put her hands up as some sort of shield, as some sort of sign for both of them to not say anything, to not do anything to try and prevent her as she took the steps up to the door and without looking at the one blocking her way she slipped out to his left and then proceeded across the foyer and up the stairs.
"That went well," Angel sighed and Spike stared at him with such a lack of words that he felt as though he had lost his tongue in the literal sense.
And then they hit him.
"What the bleeding hell?!" he exclaimed and Angel looked up, his exterior calm as he faced the anticipated storm. "What is she doing here?" Spike added.
"I sent for her," Angel replied simply.
"You 'sent' for her?" Spike asked, disbelieving.
"I sent her a letter," Angel stated and Spike's eyebrows rose.
"A letter?"
"Yes, you remember those - the tool of communication so popular back in the day," Angel answered dryly.
"You can mock me all you bloody want..." Spike began, Angel cutting him off with a brief smile which made the already burning insides of the other grow one degree hotter.
"It's funny," the dark-haired said, "how you slip so easily into that old accent whenever you get angry."
"Well, how many MORTALS don't bloody curse when they're pissed off?" Spike shot, aggravated.
"Fine," Angel nodded. "You deal with it anyway you wish."
"'DEAL with IT anyway I WISH'?!" Spike mimicked, staring at the other.
"Yes, she's here to help."
"To 'help'."
"You know, this whole showing how shocked you are by repeating everything I say is all good - but we don't seem to be getting anywhere," Angel remarked.
"I'll show you 'getting somewhere'!" Spike growled, stalking up to the other and doing what Buffy had not as he hit him hard over the chin.
As Angel turned his head back to the bleached blonde the latter grabbed the hand which had just performed the task with a slight grimace of pain on his face and the vampire smiled again.
"William, William," he then said in a rather patient tone, adding: "Still finding it so hard to remember you're human?"
Spike met his eyes with one growing venomous before he got out between clenched jaws:
"She shouldn't 've found out like that. You should've bloody told me she was coming!"
"I didn't know 'til she arrived," Angel defended. "I'm sorry," he added. "Truly. I didn't want her to find out like that either... but I knew she wouldn't believe me if I just told her."
"Had to be the regular gentleman then, eh, Angie?" Spike asked with a huff. "Had to wait 'til the right moment? Bloody lotta good it did you. Or her."
He turned, shaking his head and then left the room the same way his Slayer had just a few minutes earlier. As he crossed the foyer he avoided the stairs and headed for the large glass doors leading out into the small yard and un-kept garden. All he could think was: she was there.
She was there.
He could hardly believe it was true, that she was just a staircase and a closed door away from him. It felt surreal, his mind couldn't process it. It felt like forever since he had seen her last... But it really wasn't. It was just a few piled up moments of tension ago. When she stared at him in a way he had trouble processing... He didn't know what he had seen in her eyes.
But somehow it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered now but the need to tell her everything...
And... she was there.
**************************************************************************** **************************************************************************** **************************************************************************** ******************
Awesome that you're liking it so far! Thanks a lot for sending me a shout out, it is very appreciated!
Special thanks to those who answered my questions at the end of the last chapter! It was very helpful! I couldn't find a date on the WB site for when the first episode was going to air of S5 and so I just thought it best to proceed as though it already have, I'm very glad that it hasn't yet, actually. :)
Warm thanks to maribel, Pin1, msu (for both!), skybound, wolf116, Rachel9, Shan, skyz, demona, kathypg, Captain and Fifi!
It's more than great reading all your wonderful comments! I love it that this is something you can agree with 'cause I'm so frigging worried about what Joss has got planned for us. Or rather, for Spike and Angel and Buffy... IF SMG decides she has the time and want to actually finish the whole thing! Okay, so enough of that. You gave me really great information, but again, I just might go my very own way with this depending on what fits the story-line I have in mind for myself! Oh, speaking of which, Susannah is my own character, yeah. ;)
Okay, really hope you liked this chapter as well and if anything was... unclear, don't hesitate to ask me about it.
*hugs all* :)
A.M.L, Annie.
