Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. Well, except Joan. And
Nikki. And I guess the secretary. Or the nurse. A vague disclaimer is
nobody's friend.
Man, I have the craziest story to tell, and there's really no one who doesn't already know it who'll believe me, so I figured I would just write it down. Alright, how do I start? Hmm, this is harder than I thought it would be. Well, I guess I'll just start at the beginning. Well, maybe not the beginning. In real life, beginnings aren't as cut and dry as in the movies. So I'll start before the beginning. Back in my days of blissful ignorance. Well, not exactly blissful, but definitely ignorance.
I was fifteen. Actually, I still am, but for the sake of clarity, past tense will do just fine. Anyway, right, I was fifteen, and like virtually every fifteen-year-old girl in America, I hated my mother. It was like her life's goal was to make mine boring. Which, I found out later was actually the case. But we'll get to that in time. She was sooo overprotective. I had an eleven thirty curfew when all my friends could stay out till one or two, and then she would flip out if I was even the slightest bit late, usually grounding me for weeks. She said she understood what it was like to be a teenager, but I didn't believe her. She always acted like the slightest bit of fun was a danger to society. Plus, she named me Joan. What kind of name is that?
At least her friends were semi-cool. My mom didn't have too many close friends from work, and she didn't get out much. She was pretty strong and fit for someone her age, so I suggested she do sports or something to meet people, but she would just mutter stuff about unfairness. It pissed me off that she didn't even consider my suggestion; like I was a kid or something, but I didn't really mind, because I liked the friends she had. The two who came over the most, and used to baby-sit me a lot were Faith and Xander. Faith looks a good ten years younger than her actually age of 39. She can pull off leather, without looking totally mid-life crisis, and is really open-minded about things. Xander looks his age a little more, but doesn't act it. He's always up for something fun, even though he's partially blind. I used to secretly wish they were my parents. My dad divorced my mom just before I was born, when they had only been married for a year. She didn't talk about him much, and since she dated less and less the older she got, I assumed she liked that it was just us.
I was never really sure what Faith and Xander's relationship was. One time I introduced Xander as Faith's husband, to a friend of mine who had met Faith already, and both of them totally flipped.
"Whoa! He is not my husband!"
"And she's not my wife."
"Well, what are you, then?" my friend asked, uncertainly.
"We're fuck buddies," Faith replied, avoiding my mom's glare. My mom seemed to think I'd never heard anyone cuss before.
Later that night, Faith and Xander were watching a movie in the living room, and as I walked past the door I heard her say "Xander, when did we stop being fuck buddies?" Xander just put his arm around her, and pulled her tight to him. I remember thinking they were the perfect couple. I was torn between wanting to be their daughter and wanting to be them.
I wonder if my mom knew how I felt. Wait, I forgot, she must've, since I told her. I feel really bad about that now. It was a Saturday night and I had snuck in an hour after curfew, hoping she wouldn't notice, but of course, she did. When I got in, she was sitting in the living room with Faith and Xander, telling them how they needed to split up and look for me. When she saw me, the look in her eyes was a scary hybrid of relief and rage. She just tore into me, yelling, even swearing, which was unusual for her. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore, and I yelled back, saying "God! Just because your life is boring and depressing, it doesn't mean mine has to be. I think you're just jealous because I actually have a life! Why couldn't you be more like Faith?"
She just stood there, shocked. I was surprised that Faith spoke first, in a controlled voice, like she was trying to hold something in. "Joan, you really don't know what you're talking about." I tried to interrupt, but she just told me to go to bed. Still surprised at how upset my mother seemed to be, I complied. Well, sort of. I got halfway up the stairs, when they started arguing, and I couldn't help but eavesdrop.
"Look, B, she didn't know..."
"Yeah, obviously. Do you think she'll still think you're cool, if she finds out who you really are? What you've done? That you're a killer?"
I stood completely still, totally confused. I didn't know what to make of this statement. What could Faith have done to make my mom say such things? She couldn't really have killed people, could she?
"Hey! Buffy, she's paid her dues, you know that. You have no right to say those things," Xander interjected, furiously.
"Paid her dues, has she Xand? Oh really? Because last I heard she hadn't even served a quarter of her sentence. And now she's using Angel, and his oh-so-savory connections to keep her out. I don't see how that counts as paying one's dues."
Oh my God, Faith was a fugitive. I didn't know what to think. And who was Angel?
"She's paid her dues by helping Giles for 12 years of her life. She's fought on our side too hard and for too long for you to be treating her like this."
Giles? As in Uncle Giles, the old guy who visited from England every Christmas? And what side were they talking about?
"That's not my side anymore, not my fight, not since Joan came along," said my mom, "but that's really not the point. Look, I'm sorry, Faith, I just—"
"I know, B. It's hard."
"So are we cool?"
"Five by five," said Faith, with a forced smile. Xander didn't even bother to smile. He just grabbed his coat, and said, "Come on, Faith, let's go home."
After they left, my mom sat down and did something I had never seen her do before. She started to cry. I didn't want her to know I saw her like this, so I quietly crept upstairs, and went to bed. I couldn't sleep though. After all the bizarre things I heard them say, the one thing I couldn't stop dwelling on was the "not since Joan came along" comment. She acted like her life, her youth, had ended because of me.
The next morning, she acted like nothing had happened. She went about her usual routine, getting up early for a run, then going to her job as the manager of a clothing store in the mall. The fact that I could detect no difference in her behaviour kind of worried me, since it meant that it was possible that she had outbursts like this all the time, and I never noticed. I found out later that she had at least made up with Xander and Faith, though.
That day when I got home from soccer practice, she was sitting at the kitchen table, eating yogurt and reading a card of some sort. When I asked her what it was, she just tossed it over wordlessly. It was an invitation to her friend Willow's wedding. Willow lived in LA, so I didn't know her too well, but I liked it when she visited, because my mom usually loosened up a bit. It always surprised me how well they got along, since Willow is really different from my mom. She's kind of flaky, but incredibly smart. She's teaching computer science at MIT now. My mom still can't get her palm pilot to work. Willow traveled all the time, but I was never sure why since her job seemed relatively sedentary. My mom said it was more of a hobby, but I always thought there was something weird about it. Anyway, a few years ago she met this woman named Nikki, and they'd been dating since. It was only when I met Nikki that I realized Willow was a lesbian. It was surprising, but I got used to it pretty quickly. That was why the wedding invitation seemed weird to me.
"Uh, Mom, I thought Willow was a lesbian."
"Yeah, she is. It's just a ceremony. Not legally binding, which is completely ridiculous. I mean, I haven't met two people more in love since, well, since Willow and Tara," she answered, getting a weird look in her eyes.
"Who?" I asked. "Was that someone you guys went to high school with?" I knew Willow, Xander, and my mom went to school together, but I could never get her to talk about what they were like back then.
"No," she said softly, "She met her in college."
"Oh, so what happened if they loved each other so much?"
"It doesn't matter. There's no point dwelling on the past," she said, gathering up the dirty dishes on the table.
"God, Mom, you get all worked up that I don't tell you about my life, and look at you. You get all nostalgic about the old days, and then you close yourself off to me. You think I don't know that you wish you were still there, that you never had a child!"
I ran up the stairs to my room, as she yelled after me "You think this is nostalgia!? You don't know anything about me!" Like I didn't know that already. But whose fault was that? Not mine.
The next few weeks were even more strained than usual between us, and not just because of that fight. I had met a guy, named Will, at a friend's house, and we started spending more time together. Since my mom and I barely spoke anymore, she seemed to have forgotten my grounding, and I would go out with him almost every night. He was 17, and had a car. A butt ugly car, but still. And his breath smelled like Juicy Fruit, and he spent forever on his hair, which I teased him about mercilessly. I was crazy about him, but at the same time I was a little afraid. He was a lot more experienced than me and after about two weeks, he wanted to go farther than just kissing. I wasn't so sure. One day, when my mom was supposed to have a late shift, we were making out on the couch. He had pulled my shirt off, which freaked me out more than I would ever admit and I was starting to get worried. I didn't want him to leave, but I knew I wasn't ready for sex. Or was I? He was struggling with my fly, just as I was struggling with myself. "Just tell him not yet, Joan," part of me was saying, while another part said "How do you know you're not ready, till you try? You know you don't want him to leave you, and guys have their needs too."
Lucky for me, my mom chose that day to come home early because of a migraine. I was about to shove him off when my mom did it for me. Actually it wasn't so much a shove as it was a hurl. She pretty much hurled him against the wall. I was torn between relief, humiliation, and fury. Of course, I only showed her the fury.
"Mother! How could you do this to me!?" I screamed, as Will grabbed his shirt, and bolted out of the house.
"How could I do this to you!? You're fifteen-years-old! Do you have any idea what the consequences to sex are!?"
"Of course I do. STDs, pregnancy. And we weren't having sex, not that that's any of your business!"
"Yeah, well, there are other kinds of consequences. Emotional ones. Do you really know what kind of guy this idiot is? Do you really know if you can trust him?"
"Of course I do," I replied, sounding more sure than I actually was. "Will's the most trustworthy guy I know. Did you see his face? Face of an angel."
A strange look came over my mom's face. "Pack your bags," she said, "We're going to Willow's wedding."
"But it's not for two weeks," I protested.
"I know. You can miss a little school. Go talk to your teachers and get your assignments tomorrow, and then we'll leave the next day. I was going to go up with Faith and Xander a couple days before the ceremony, but I think we should go now."
I protested a little bit more but not too vehemently, because going with my mom or not, LA was still cooler than school.
So that's how we found ourselves at LAX two days later. Neither my mom nor I ever mastered the art of packing lightly, so between the two of us we had about six suitcases, for a three week trip. I put two on a cart, and carried one, and had to remind her to do the same, as she seemed to be attempting to carry all three. I knew Willow had arrived to pick us up when my mom's face lit up. She dropped her suitcase and ran to her. They hugged like they hadn't seen each other in years, despite the fact that Willow had come to visit just a few months earlier. The two of them chatted all the way back to Willow and Nikki's house, which was absolutely gorgeous, not to mention huge. On top of Willow being a prof, Nikki was a lawyer, so they lived in luxury, compared to what I was used to, at least.
With Willow around, my mom and I actually started to get along okay. Willow usually diffused any tense situations, and actually convinced my mom to let me go clubbing with Nikki's niece, Skylar, who was visiting from Australia. Soon, more people started to arrive, including Uncle Giles, his girlfriend Olivia, and his stepchild Jason, who was 12. I kind of thought of Giles as a grandfather, despite the fact that we weren't related. He would give me CDs that my mother hated, saying he was glad to know that Summers women weren't genetically programmed to like horrible music. And he was like a dad to my mom. The only thing I didn't like about him was, whenever he, Willow, and my mom were together they would reminisce, sometimes laughing, sometimes looking like they were about to cry, but would always shut up completely when I came near.
When Xander and Faith arrived, they had a message for my mom. They tried to get me out of the room, but I hid outside and listened. Apparently some guy named Spike was trying to get in contact with her.
"I don't care," was her response, "I told him years ago, that I wouldn't forgive him. He knew the Shanshu wasn't for him, but he screwed Angel over, and took it anyway. He was a good man. But he didn't deserve it. There's no reason for him to see me. He's probably having the time of his life, having a life."
"I'm with B here. She has no reason to go see this bastard."
"Look, Buffy, he's sick," said Xander, "And speaking as the guy who, unlike y'all, never liked Spike, I think you should go see him anyway. He's just a guy, a poor, pathetic guy who never made it as a man."
"What do you mean when you say he's sick?" asked my mom, in her pretend-not- to-care voice.
"I don't know. He wasn't very specific, but I don't think he'd be calling if it wasn't serious. Look, it couldn't hurt, right?"
"Yeah, alright, I'll go see him."
The next day my mom told me she was going to the hospital to visit an old friend, but wouldn't say more. When she returned, she just told us all, "He's dying," and nothing more. I tried to ask who this Spike guy was, an old flame maybe, but Uncle Giles shushed me.
So anyways, I guess now is when we get to the real beginning of the story. At least, this is where it gets interesting. About a week before the wedding, Uncle Giles got a call from my Aunt Dawn, and said he had to go away for a few days. Faith and Xander decided that they would go too, for old time's sake, whatever that meant.
With the house a little less crowded, my mom and I decided to go shopping. We actually had a pretty good time, and she started telling me about growing up in LA and how all the stores she used to love are gone now. Searching for them got us a bit lost, and it was dark by the time we started heading back toward the car. All of a sudden a tall dark-haired man, maybe in his mid-late twenties, stepped in front of us, blocking our way.
"Angel?" my Mom asked, clearly surprised.
So this was the Angel people kept talking about. He was pretty hot, I thought, but didn't get how he could have been keeping Faith out of jail for years. He had to have been a teenager before I knew her.
"Hello, Lover," he said, smiling.
The blood drained out of my mom's face, as she quickly shoved me behind her. I barely had time to react to the grossness of somebody calling my mom Lover, when she told me to run. I didn't want to, but she pulled ahead of me, grabbing my hand and dragging me through the crowd. He didn't follow, just yelled "Come on, Slayer, you gone soft in your old age!? Just remember, you can't hide from fate! And neither can she!"
We made our way back to the car, and my mom sped away, refusing to answer my questions. After awhile I realized we weren't heading back to Willow's. We pulled up to a tall, fancy-looking building that said "Wolfram & Hart: Attorneys at Law" in front. My mom parked completely illegally, and signaled for me to get out of the car. I was tempted not to until she told me what was going on, but the look on her face warned me not to. We went to the front desk where my mom asked for someone named Wesley Wyndham Price, whoever that was, and was told to check the fourth floor. When we got up there, she went to the receptionist and asked again.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, Mr. Wyndham Price is in a meeting right now."
"I don't care. I need to speak to him immediately."
"Again ma'am, I'm sorry. I can take a message and—" She was cut off by my mom grabbing her collar, and yanking her across the desk.
"Call him," she warned. "Right now."
"Mom, what is going on!? Put her down!" I yelled, as the receptionist struggled to dial while being held by the throat.
"Mr. Wyndham Price, you've got a visitor."
"I told you this was an emergency meeting, Carrie. Take a message," came a British voice from the phone.
"Wesley, it's Buffy. Get out here now."
"I'll be right there," he said, and sure enough, a moment later he appeared from behind the doors of one of the offices. "Buffy."
"What the hell is going on? I just saw Angelus on the street."
"Oh God, did he hurt you?"
"No. I ran. I have more than just me to worry about nowadays," she said, nodding her head towards me.
"Look, Buffy, Wolfram & Hart has been trying to corrupt Angel for years. He's always thwarted them in the past, so we didn't expect..."
"If they've been trying to corrupt him for years then why the hell have you all stayed?"
"We can outsmart them. We can use their resources against them, I know it. We have been for years."
"Yeah, and now they've unleashed Angelus. Good plan, Wes. Is this what your meeting's about? How to stop Angelus with the powers given to you by those who let him out in the first place? I want you to take these people off this committee, or whatever it is. I'm calling Willow, and getting her to reverse the spell."
"Don't you think if it were as simple as a spell, we would have done it already? The process to reverse the spell this time is much more complex."
"I trust Willow. I don't trust your people."
"Would somebody please tell me what's going on!?"
"No. Look, this is serious. Just sit tight, and be quiet," said my mom, "Wesley and I have something important to discuss." Turning to Wesley, she said "Is there anywhere we can talk in private?"
He led her into an empty office, where they continued to argue. I had had enough by then. I figured if no one would tell me what was going on, I was leaving. They obviously didn't need me there. I exited the building, before realizing that I really had nowhere to go. I didn't know how to drive, and even if I did, I didn't have the car keys. Not to mention, I didn't have any idea how to get back to Willow's house.
Unfortunately, my problem was solved for me. I was walking down the sidewalk, head down, trying to figure out what to do, when a hand reached out from the shadows of an alley, and covered my mouth, drawing me into the darkness. I struggled but he was strong.
"Well, isn't this a nice turn of luck," he growled. "I couldn't have planned it better myself."
"Who are you?" I whispered, afraid that he would hurt me if I spoke up.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Have we not been properly introduced? The name's Angelus."
"Oh, hi," I said weakly.
"'Oh hi'? That's all I get? Why aren't you cowering in fear? Surely you've heard of me."
"Um, no, not really. Are you famous?"
"You mean to tell me that Buffy—your mother, I'm assuming—never warned you about me? I'm kind of hurt."
"She doesn't really talk about her past much."
"Wait. Don't tell me you don't know anything about her past?"
"Well, I know a little...I guess." At this point he had started to loosen his grip on my neck, so I tried to make a break for it. He was faster than I expected, though, and grabbed my arm, pulling me closer to him. At this point I started to realize exactly how serious the situation was, and started to cry.
"I love it when they cry," he smirked, "but you're still getting on my nerves. I think I'm going to take you somewhere where you can't try to escape. Okee dokee?" He shoved me against the wall and punched me in the face. I must have been knocked unconscious then, because I don't remember anything after that, for awhile.
I guess now would be a good time to explain what my mom was doing at this point. Of course, I can't know for sure, but this is the story I've been getting. She continued to argue with Wesley, after having him call Willow to explain what kind of spell she was up against. When she ensured that he was doing everything in his power to help, she went back to the lobby to find me, but, of course, discovered I was missing and panicked.
"Buffy, we've got vampire detectors everywhere in this building. He couldn't have gotten in without us noticing. She probably just got upset that you spoke to her so harshly, and decided to go back to Willow's."
"First of all, don't you dare tell me I spoke too harshly. You know nothing about raising children. Second, how the hell would she get back to Willow's? This city is totally alien to her!"
"You may be right. I supposed the best course of action at the moment would be to head back to Willow's and hope she turns up. Perhaps Willow could try some sort of locator spell also."
"Yeah, I guess you're right." Just as she was about to follow this advice, her cell phone rang.
"Buffy, it's Will. Listen, don't panic, but Angelus called here. He has Joan at some abandoned warehouse. He wants you there—alone."
"Don't panic!? Oh my God, oh my God. I worked her whole life to keep her away from this shit, and this is what happens? I guess he was right, you really can't hide from fate. What I need you to do is give me the address of this place, and then get to work on the spell. I don't care that you're out of practice with magic; I need you to do this for me. I'll sent Wes and Fred over to help you."
After getting the address, she hung up the phone, turned to Wesley, and said "I'm going to need weapons."
About an hour later, I was waking up in said abandoned warehouse. My head hurt something fierce, but I managed to sit up. As I did I noticed an unconscious man laying next to me. He was about 35, but had kind of a baby face. Angelus didn't seem to be around.
"Hey, wake up." I shook the man, until he slowly opened his eyes.
"Where are we?" he asked.
"I don't know," I replied, but I got enough strength to stand up and check the door, which, to no one's surprise, was locked. Just then, Angelus returned.
"Oh good, you're getting better acquainted. If things had been different, you two could have been siblings, you know that? You don't believe me, but it's complicated, you see—"
At that moment, the guy next to me jumped to his feet, and in an instant, had brought a gun up, and yelled "Freeze! LAPD!"
Angelus just laughed. "I can't believe I didn't check you for weapons. I never figured you'd still be fighting evil in this incarnation. Besides, I thought you had a college scholarship or something, Con"
The guy looked confused. "What'd you call me? And how did you know about my scholarship?" Before Angelus could answer he said, "You know what, it doesn't matter. You're under arrest. I want you to lay down on the—"
All of a sudden Angelus lunged at him. Before he even got close the gun went off, and I saw the bullet go right through his chest. I winced. I remember thinking that it was over then. But it wasn't. Far from it. The man, Con, or whatever his name was turned towards me to check that I was okay, but before I could even scream, Angelus stood up, and knocked him against the wall. But that wasn't the worst of it. His face had contorted into this monstrous visage. His eyebrow ridges became really pronounced and bumpy, and his teeth grew into long fangs. He looked—was it possible?—like a vampire?
"Okay, that hurt," he snarled. "I think it's time I showed you what's going to happen to you if you try anything like that," he said to me. Letting out a growl, he strode over to the man's unconscious form, and lifted him by the neck, with just one arm. "Wake up!" he yelled. Turning to me, he explained "It's no fun when they're unconscious."
Suddenly an arrow shot through his left shoulder. He turned, letting out an inhuman growl. By this time I had already realized who it was. My mom. My mom, holding some sort of weird medieval weapon, and looked more pissed off than I had ever seen her.
"Hello, Lover."
"Wait, he really is your lover!?"
"Joan, shut up." And for once, I did. I needed to let her handle this. Of course, it helped her case when she raised a huge sword, in front of her.
"Brings back memories, doesn't it, Buffy? Actually, I was hoping we could talk—." But obviously my mom wasn't in the mood to talk, as she raced forward, raising the sword over her head, and swung it at him, with obvious strength and skill. I was in shock, obviously. I mean, she was awesome! I didn't have much time to be excited, though, as he quickly disarmed her, so they were fighting hand to hand. And foot to foot. It was amazing. She was doing spinny kicks and even a back flip or two. But I could tell she was wearing out a lot faster than he was.
"Old age, has really gotten to you, huh? In a way, that's not as much fun. In another way, it really is," he taunted.
Instead of answering him, my mom just yelled to me to get outside. "And take this!" she called, as I raced toward her, throwing the cross she always wore around her neck at me. In the split second that it took to get the necklace off, he had her, yanking her into his chest. Before I could even react he sank his teeth into her neck.
"Mom!" I knew I was supposed to leave, but I just couldn't let her die. The excitement of seeing her go all Xena had quickly evaporated and turned into pure fear. As scared as I was, I knew I couldn't let her die. I searched for a weapon, but could find nothing. Suddenly I realized the significance of the cross. She wanted me to keep it—it couldn't have been for sentimental reasons. Maybe that whole cross-vampire thing was true. I didn't have time for maybes. Clasping the cross in my hand I ran up behind him and rammed the cross up against his neck. Smoke started to appear around it, and I was momentarily relieved when he dropped my mom, still conscious, but only barely. Only momentarily though, as he quickly turned around, grabbing my wrist so hard I was forced to drop the crucifix.
"You're going to pay for that, bitch!" he snarled. "Actually this works out great. Now your mother can watch you die, just like I had planned."
I caught my mom's eyes, which mirrored the terror I was sure showed in mine. She had lost a lot of blood and was slipping towards unconsciousness. I knew she wouldn't be able to help me now. I closed my eyes as I felt his teeth approaching my neck. Suddenly, he jerked away, and collapsed onto the ground. Confused, I backed away, towards my mom's now prostrate form.
He looked up, shifting back into his human face. When he saw my mom, he said fearfully "Buffy?"
Trying to muster up as much strength into my voice as I could, I said "You stay the hell away from her, you psycho." Even as I said this, I could tell something was different, just by looking at his eyes. The cruelty, the craziness was gone, replaced with confusion, guilt, and fear.
He attempted to move toward me, but I grabbed the cross, now laying on the ground, and held it up at him. He quickly shied away, hissing.
"Look, we need to get her to a hospital."
"You're telling me this!? Whose fault is it that she needs to?"
"Look, I know you don't want to trust me right now, but you need me to get her to a doctor. You can't carry her."
For some reason, I wanted to trust him, but I wouldn't let myself give in to my instincts. I wasn't going to fall for any tricks.
"What about that guy?" I asked, hoping to divert his attention, so I could figure out some way to get my mom out of there.
He turned, and upon seeing the huddled figure of the cop, gasped. "Oh God, Connor." He rushed to his side. I didn't want to leave the guy at his mercy, but I really only cared about my mom at that point. He heard me as soon as I started dragging my mom out.
"What are you doing? I bet you can't even drive. Are you planning to drag her the 10 miles to the nearest hospital?"
He seemed so genuinely concerned. I didn't understand. "Do you, like, not remember what happened?"
"No. I mean, yeah. It's coming back to me. Listen, Con—whatever his name is, is going to be fine. He just has a bruise. Your mom, on the other hand, needs a blood transfusion right away. She barely survived this at eighteen; I don't know what it's going to do to her now."
"Look, I want to trust you, I really do, but I can't put my mom's life in the hands of the guy who just about took it."
"Then I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For this," he answered, batting the cross away, and knocking me to the ground in the process. He then grabbed my mom off the floor.
"No!" I screamed, pounding my fists against his back. He sighed, then turned to me, and backhanded me across the face. I was unconscious before I hit the floor.
I woke up to the sweet, refreshing smell of hospital. A nurse came in and started when she saw I was awake.
"My mom?" I asked, almost not wanting to know the answer to the question. God, I didn't know if she was dead or alive. Come to think of it, I didn't even know if she had made it to the hospital at all.
She checked my chart and then said "Oh. Buffy Summers? She's sleeping in the room next door, but we gave her a transfusion and she'll be fine."
The relief I felt at that moment was indescribable. "Can I go see her?"
"Sure, but I don't see the point. I mean, she's pretty zonked out."
"That's okay." I got out of bed, wincing, as my head throbbed. When I got to the door of the next room, the pain was forgotten as I noticed Angelus, sitting by my mom's bed, holding her hand.
He looked up, hearing me start. "Don't you think she'd be dead by now if I wanted to hurt her?"
I had to admit that was true. Just then my mom started to stir. I rushed to the side of the bed opposite to him, still slightly wary, but not enough to keep me from her.
"Joan?" she murmured, her eyes flickering. I smiled. Then she tilted her head slightly. "Angel?" Suddenly she seemed to recollect the circumstances leading to her hospitalization, and reached out, attempting to push me back, toward the door.
"It's me, Buffy," he said softly.
Like me, she seemed inclined to believe him, despite all the reasons not to. "But...but." She struggled to speak. "But you're wearing leather pants."
Angelus cracked a smile, this one much different from those that had earlier adorned his face. "I didn't have time to change. I wish I had though. These things are chafing me."
"Well, here's a thought. Don't get evil." Despite the joking tone of voice, both he and I could tell she was serious. "How many times have I warned you about those people? How many times has Giles, has Xander? And after everything that happened with Gunn, I just don't know how you could trust them."
"I didn't. But I thought I could handle it."
"Yeah, well, you've always been a little full of yourself. And this time it put my daughter in danger. So if you don't cut ties with them now, I'm going to take it as a sign of severe disrespect. If Angelus had hurt her..."
"I know. I'm sorry."
He really did look sorry. Although, to be fair, he sort of looked perpetually sorry anyway.
"That being said, I did miss you."
"I missed you too."
"Okay, now that you're over the part where you bitch at this guy for trying to hurt me, I say you give me the explanation I'm long overdue for," I interjected.
And for the first time ever, she did. It took almost an hour for her to tell me everything, and even then I felt like she was summarizing. The things she had been through...they were just, just not mom things. I won't bore you (whoever you are) with the details. Pretty much, my mom was destined to be a vampire slayer. Starting when she was sixteen, she and her friends battled evil, some of them dying or getting hurt along the way. It was all pretty intense. Apparently Angel was her high school boyfriend. I know. Don't ask me, I don't get it either. Something about a gypsy curse and a soul. But when he loses his soul he goes all Angelus. She was a little unclear about how he might lose it, but I got the impression I didn't want to know anyway.
There were a couple of things she wouldn't tell me. Like about Faith and the whole killing-people conversation. All she would say was that it was in the past and didn't matter now. She also glossed over something about Willow going a little berserk. And she refused to tell me about her relationship with that Spike guy. But at the time I hardly noticed. I was already thrown enough by the rest of the story.
When she was finished with her spiel, she looked at me hesitantly, willing me to say something. All I could think of was "I need to take a walk."
Of course, being dressed in only a hospital gown, my stroll was restricted to the hallways of the hospital. As I walked past one of the doors, a voice startled me out of my reverie.
"Little bit!"
I peered into the door. In the bed was a frail-looking older man. I could tell from his voice he was British and his hair, or what was left of it, was died a sickening-looking bleach blonde. His roots, which were over an inch long were brown, and dry and brittle-looking. The man was hooked up to a few different machines, none of which I recognized.
"Are you talking to me?"
"Yeah. I saw Angel bring you in. You and, and her."
"My mom?"
"Mum, eh? I should have guessed. You look more like the little bit though. Her sister, that is."
"How do you know her? How do you know any of them?"
"Oh, we go way back. Me and Angel too. Haven't spoken to either of them in awhile, though. Not since..."
"Hey, you're not Spike, are you?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I am actually. Why? You heard of me?" He half-smiled as he said this. It was a smile with a story, a smile that looked like it was sexy once, probably long ago. It was a smile that hadn't been used in awhile. A smile that quickly faded when he saw the look on my face. "Only the bad, I suppose. I guess I can't expect any better after what I did. But I'm not, I'm not a monster, if that's what they've been telling you."
"They didn't actually tell me too much. You seem like kind of a sore subject."
"Always have been. Anyway, if it helps, I am sorry."
"That might mean a little more if I knew what you did," I answered impatiently.
"It's kind of a sore subject for me, if you must know."
"Obviously you want to tell me, or you wouldn't have called me in here."
He looked ready to argue, but though better of it, and just said "Yeah, I guess you're right. Well, I won't bore you with the details, but there was this prophecy that said a vampire with a soul could turn human, if he made up for his sins, you know? And Angel had been working at his helping the helpless business for a while there, expecting to get a cookie at the end, like a good boy, when I came along with my soul, and my own save-the-world tale to tell. When I heard about this prophecy...I wanted it. I wanted it so badly. I was young, you see? Well, that sounds stupid. I mean, I was well over a hundred, but I was confused. I didn't know who I was, and I thought this Shanshu thing was a way to figure it out once and for all. So I outsmarted Angel. He never really had the brain power I did, no matter what Dru or Buffy thought. And I took the reward, the prize. Some prize it's turned out to be. I didn't know how to be human. Buffy never forgave me for stealing what was rightfully Angel's, so it's not like I could walk off into the sunset with her. Not that I could anyway. I didn't know how to be nice, how to survive. I didn't know how to do anything other than lie, steal, and cheat. But somehow with my soul I convinced myself I was above that. Who was I kidding? I had super-strength. I could steal anything I needed, and convince myself I was a hero, and I deserved it. When I was human I had to get a job, a life, and I didn't know how. And now I'm pathetic. I got a job in construction. God, how I used to laugh at that poncy Xander for being in construction, and there I was, in a fucking hard hat. A yellow hard hat! I don't wear yellow. At least Xander moved up. I was never good at my job, always just average. And it wasn't just yellow I didn't look good in anymore. I gained weight, lost my hair, and now this. Fucking lung cancer. Cigarettes never hurt me; I never even thought about them. Shows how prepared I was for human life. It doesn't matter now anyhow. 'Cause I'm dying. I've wasted this life, that shouldn't have been mine to begin with. And I would give anything to take back what I did. Angel—Angel had no doubt that he would rather be pathetic than a monster. Me—I'm not so sure."
"Have you told my mom how bad you feel?"
"Feeling bad means nothing, Little Bit. Action is all that matters, and I made the wrong one. Wrong. Everything was easier when wrong was non- existent."
"Yeah, I guess." I was starting to feel uncomfortable. This guy looked like he was about to drop any second, and I didn't think I could handle watching a guy die in front of me, especially one as pathetic as this. "Look, maybe I could get my mom to listen to you. I mean, if you're dying...she can be more understanding than you think."
He looked momentarily grateful, but then his face hardened again. "Thanks, but it doesn't matter. Since I got sick, I've realized that even getting an official Buffy pardon doesn't mean it was right. For so long, even after my soul I thought right was just what Buffy wanted. But there's more to it than that. So I can't rely on her opinion to make me feel better anymore. But really, thanks."
"OK, well it was nice meeting you." The words sounded embarrassingly hollow. As I stepped into the hallway I made up my mind that I was going to at least try to convince her to talk to him. I had never seen anyone look so sad before. I approached her door quietly, in case she had dozed off, but paused when I heard voices. I knew I shouldn't eavesdrop, but I was still incredulous enough to want to confirm that this whole thing wasn't some mass conspiracy.
"Angel, I've been thinking," said my mom, at the same time as he said "Buffy—."
They both smiled. He nodded his head to her, indicating she should go first, and she complied. "Remember when you left Sunnydale, that first time? The conversation we had in the sewer?"
"Of course."
"You said that we couldn't be together because I would need more in life than you could give me. And I agree now, as much as I didn't understand then. Because you couldn't have given me Joan, and I wouldn't take her back for anything. But I've got Joan now, and that part of me is fully satisfied. But I just—I've dated some in the last few years, but it never goes anywhere, and I've always, deep down, known why." Angel looked like he was about to interrupt, but thought better of it. "It's because they're not you. So maybe, and this is a big maybe, but maybe we can make it work. Because anything's got to be better than missing you."
Angel looked troubled, like he didn't know what to say, but finally came out with "But Buffy, what's changed since then?"
"Well, all the shiny new slayers, for one. And, I mean, we both make money now, granted, you make a lot more than me, but I'm not opposed to you being my sugar daddy." I shuddered. Mothers could be so gross.
"But what about. ..you know, the sex thing," he practically whispered.
"Good lord, how many centuries old are you going to have to be before you can say that without blushing?"
"Buffy, I'm serious. You can't tell me that's not important."
"I know, but I'm older now, and not nearly as horny," she jokes, as I, again, shudder. "But in all seriousness, I think we could give it a try, anyway. I mean, I know I don't quite look like I used to--."
"Hey, I'm offended that you would think that was my reason. I just—look, I miss you too. I don't deny it. But we have to be responsible."
"I know. But I'm sick and tired of being responsible. Because the timer's gone off, and I'm cookies and you're not hungry." I couldn't make head or tail of this argument, but the pained look on her face made me feel really bad for her. There was an awkward silence, so I took the opportunity to knock on the door.
"Mom? I'm sorry to interrupt, but if you're well enough, I think you should come with me. There's somebody who wants to see you."
"Somebody who wants to see—oh for God's sake, it's not Spike, is it?" The expression on my face confirmed her belief. "Great, now he's using my daughter to get to me. When is that asshole going to realize that I'm not going to forgive him?" I then told her what he said about knowing her forgiveness wouldn't make it okay, and her face softened a bit.
At this point, I was surprised to hear Angel interjecting. "Maybe she's right, Buffy. He's dying. It doesn't do any good to hold a grudge now."
"Giles once told me that we don't forgive people because they deserve it, but because they need it," she said softly
"Exactly," I argued, and pleaded with her, until she agreed to get up. She groaned as she tried to sit up, causing Angel to run to her side and offer to carry her. Good lord, the boy was whipped. Why couldn't I find a guy like that? Anyway, Mom seemed reluctant, until she realized that otherwise, it would take her an hour to walk three doors down. Angel effortlessly hoisted her into his arms, and the three of us made our way to Spike's room. On the way, we ran into a very freaked out looking Xander.
"Oh, God, Buff. Thank God you're okay," he said, obviously relieved to see her alive and conscious, if not well. He made an effort to hug her without hugging Angel, and failed miserably. "Angel, why the hell do you have her up?"
"And when the hell are you going to learn that I can take care of myself. I wanted to be up," answered my mom. Xander's protectiveness seemed to cause her to actually want to go to Spike's room, so we kept going, as I filled Xander in on the Spike situation.
When we appeared in the door way, Spike took one look at my mom in Angel's arms and started laughing, a harsh, bitter laughter that soon turned into a coughing fit. Angel obviously hadn't seen Spike for awhile, as he looked horrified at his condition.
Before anyone could say anything, a bright light appeared on the other side of Spike. My mother immediately attempted to shield me with her arm, while still holding onto Angel, who took the hint and stepped in front of me. But somehow I wasn't getting a dangerous vibe from it, and I didn't think anyone else was either.
Suddenly Xander gasped. "Ahn?" he asked tentatively, as a figure emerged from the light. As she became more clear, I realized she was a beautiful woman, maybe in her early-to-mid twenties.
She smiled, a gorgeous, clear smile. "Hi, Xander." Nobody made a move; they all seemed in so much shock. And if these freaks were shocked, this must have been a pretty major development. "Buffy, Spike, Angel, Joan." She nodded at us all in turn. "I'm here to grant a wish."
"A wish? But...you're still a vengeance demon? And none of us made a wish," said Xander, clearly confused.
"No, I'm in a different line of work now. Not vengeance exactly."
"You're an angel," I breathed.
"I guess you could call it that. And it's true none of you made a wish, per se, but one of you made a prayer. And that's why I'm here." Turning to Spike, she said "Your prayer's been granted," and then, quicker than her arrival, she was gone.
Before anyone could say a word, a loud beeping was heard. At the same moment, we all realized what it was and rushed to Spike's bedside. His heart had stopped. A nurse ran in, and shoved us all out of the room. We were standing in the hallway, unsure of what to do or say, when Angel gasped, his face contorting. He looked like he was about to pass out, so Xander grabbed my mom, who was still in his arms. As soon as she was safe, he collapsed on the floor, clutching his chest. My mom struggled out of Xander's arms and dropped to the floor next to Angel, cradling his head in her lap.
"Angel!" she cried out, as he slumped into unconsciousness. A doctor came rushing toward him, looking to help, but Xander convinced him he was more needed in Spike's room.
Suddenly Angel opened his eyes and took a huge gulp of air. "Buffy?" he asked, uncertain of his surroundings. She smiled, clearly relieved. "Buffy, I'm alive," he said, realization dawning on his face.
"Yeah, I noticed that, what with the talking," she replied sarcastically.
"No, I mean I'm alive," he stressed, bringing her palm to his chest. A look came over my mom's face then, like I had never seen. She looked like a huge weight had been lifted off of her, a weight that had been there as long as I had known her. Then, she rolled on top of him and started making out with him, a sight I'll need industrial strength soap to wash out of my brain.
Anyway, I guess you can imagine what happened after that. This isn't the Return of the King, so I'll just end it now, leaving something to your imagination. Just so you don't worry though, we did live happily ever after.
Man, I have the craziest story to tell, and there's really no one who doesn't already know it who'll believe me, so I figured I would just write it down. Alright, how do I start? Hmm, this is harder than I thought it would be. Well, I guess I'll just start at the beginning. Well, maybe not the beginning. In real life, beginnings aren't as cut and dry as in the movies. So I'll start before the beginning. Back in my days of blissful ignorance. Well, not exactly blissful, but definitely ignorance.
I was fifteen. Actually, I still am, but for the sake of clarity, past tense will do just fine. Anyway, right, I was fifteen, and like virtually every fifteen-year-old girl in America, I hated my mother. It was like her life's goal was to make mine boring. Which, I found out later was actually the case. But we'll get to that in time. She was sooo overprotective. I had an eleven thirty curfew when all my friends could stay out till one or two, and then she would flip out if I was even the slightest bit late, usually grounding me for weeks. She said she understood what it was like to be a teenager, but I didn't believe her. She always acted like the slightest bit of fun was a danger to society. Plus, she named me Joan. What kind of name is that?
At least her friends were semi-cool. My mom didn't have too many close friends from work, and she didn't get out much. She was pretty strong and fit for someone her age, so I suggested she do sports or something to meet people, but she would just mutter stuff about unfairness. It pissed me off that she didn't even consider my suggestion; like I was a kid or something, but I didn't really mind, because I liked the friends she had. The two who came over the most, and used to baby-sit me a lot were Faith and Xander. Faith looks a good ten years younger than her actually age of 39. She can pull off leather, without looking totally mid-life crisis, and is really open-minded about things. Xander looks his age a little more, but doesn't act it. He's always up for something fun, even though he's partially blind. I used to secretly wish they were my parents. My dad divorced my mom just before I was born, when they had only been married for a year. She didn't talk about him much, and since she dated less and less the older she got, I assumed she liked that it was just us.
I was never really sure what Faith and Xander's relationship was. One time I introduced Xander as Faith's husband, to a friend of mine who had met Faith already, and both of them totally flipped.
"Whoa! He is not my husband!"
"And she's not my wife."
"Well, what are you, then?" my friend asked, uncertainly.
"We're fuck buddies," Faith replied, avoiding my mom's glare. My mom seemed to think I'd never heard anyone cuss before.
Later that night, Faith and Xander were watching a movie in the living room, and as I walked past the door I heard her say "Xander, when did we stop being fuck buddies?" Xander just put his arm around her, and pulled her tight to him. I remember thinking they were the perfect couple. I was torn between wanting to be their daughter and wanting to be them.
I wonder if my mom knew how I felt. Wait, I forgot, she must've, since I told her. I feel really bad about that now. It was a Saturday night and I had snuck in an hour after curfew, hoping she wouldn't notice, but of course, she did. When I got in, she was sitting in the living room with Faith and Xander, telling them how they needed to split up and look for me. When she saw me, the look in her eyes was a scary hybrid of relief and rage. She just tore into me, yelling, even swearing, which was unusual for her. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore, and I yelled back, saying "God! Just because your life is boring and depressing, it doesn't mean mine has to be. I think you're just jealous because I actually have a life! Why couldn't you be more like Faith?"
She just stood there, shocked. I was surprised that Faith spoke first, in a controlled voice, like she was trying to hold something in. "Joan, you really don't know what you're talking about." I tried to interrupt, but she just told me to go to bed. Still surprised at how upset my mother seemed to be, I complied. Well, sort of. I got halfway up the stairs, when they started arguing, and I couldn't help but eavesdrop.
"Look, B, she didn't know..."
"Yeah, obviously. Do you think she'll still think you're cool, if she finds out who you really are? What you've done? That you're a killer?"
I stood completely still, totally confused. I didn't know what to make of this statement. What could Faith have done to make my mom say such things? She couldn't really have killed people, could she?
"Hey! Buffy, she's paid her dues, you know that. You have no right to say those things," Xander interjected, furiously.
"Paid her dues, has she Xand? Oh really? Because last I heard she hadn't even served a quarter of her sentence. And now she's using Angel, and his oh-so-savory connections to keep her out. I don't see how that counts as paying one's dues."
Oh my God, Faith was a fugitive. I didn't know what to think. And who was Angel?
"She's paid her dues by helping Giles for 12 years of her life. She's fought on our side too hard and for too long for you to be treating her like this."
Giles? As in Uncle Giles, the old guy who visited from England every Christmas? And what side were they talking about?
"That's not my side anymore, not my fight, not since Joan came along," said my mom, "but that's really not the point. Look, I'm sorry, Faith, I just—"
"I know, B. It's hard."
"So are we cool?"
"Five by five," said Faith, with a forced smile. Xander didn't even bother to smile. He just grabbed his coat, and said, "Come on, Faith, let's go home."
After they left, my mom sat down and did something I had never seen her do before. She started to cry. I didn't want her to know I saw her like this, so I quietly crept upstairs, and went to bed. I couldn't sleep though. After all the bizarre things I heard them say, the one thing I couldn't stop dwelling on was the "not since Joan came along" comment. She acted like her life, her youth, had ended because of me.
The next morning, she acted like nothing had happened. She went about her usual routine, getting up early for a run, then going to her job as the manager of a clothing store in the mall. The fact that I could detect no difference in her behaviour kind of worried me, since it meant that it was possible that she had outbursts like this all the time, and I never noticed. I found out later that she had at least made up with Xander and Faith, though.
That day when I got home from soccer practice, she was sitting at the kitchen table, eating yogurt and reading a card of some sort. When I asked her what it was, she just tossed it over wordlessly. It was an invitation to her friend Willow's wedding. Willow lived in LA, so I didn't know her too well, but I liked it when she visited, because my mom usually loosened up a bit. It always surprised me how well they got along, since Willow is really different from my mom. She's kind of flaky, but incredibly smart. She's teaching computer science at MIT now. My mom still can't get her palm pilot to work. Willow traveled all the time, but I was never sure why since her job seemed relatively sedentary. My mom said it was more of a hobby, but I always thought there was something weird about it. Anyway, a few years ago she met this woman named Nikki, and they'd been dating since. It was only when I met Nikki that I realized Willow was a lesbian. It was surprising, but I got used to it pretty quickly. That was why the wedding invitation seemed weird to me.
"Uh, Mom, I thought Willow was a lesbian."
"Yeah, she is. It's just a ceremony. Not legally binding, which is completely ridiculous. I mean, I haven't met two people more in love since, well, since Willow and Tara," she answered, getting a weird look in her eyes.
"Who?" I asked. "Was that someone you guys went to high school with?" I knew Willow, Xander, and my mom went to school together, but I could never get her to talk about what they were like back then.
"No," she said softly, "She met her in college."
"Oh, so what happened if they loved each other so much?"
"It doesn't matter. There's no point dwelling on the past," she said, gathering up the dirty dishes on the table.
"God, Mom, you get all worked up that I don't tell you about my life, and look at you. You get all nostalgic about the old days, and then you close yourself off to me. You think I don't know that you wish you were still there, that you never had a child!"
I ran up the stairs to my room, as she yelled after me "You think this is nostalgia!? You don't know anything about me!" Like I didn't know that already. But whose fault was that? Not mine.
The next few weeks were even more strained than usual between us, and not just because of that fight. I had met a guy, named Will, at a friend's house, and we started spending more time together. Since my mom and I barely spoke anymore, she seemed to have forgotten my grounding, and I would go out with him almost every night. He was 17, and had a car. A butt ugly car, but still. And his breath smelled like Juicy Fruit, and he spent forever on his hair, which I teased him about mercilessly. I was crazy about him, but at the same time I was a little afraid. He was a lot more experienced than me and after about two weeks, he wanted to go farther than just kissing. I wasn't so sure. One day, when my mom was supposed to have a late shift, we were making out on the couch. He had pulled my shirt off, which freaked me out more than I would ever admit and I was starting to get worried. I didn't want him to leave, but I knew I wasn't ready for sex. Or was I? He was struggling with my fly, just as I was struggling with myself. "Just tell him not yet, Joan," part of me was saying, while another part said "How do you know you're not ready, till you try? You know you don't want him to leave you, and guys have their needs too."
Lucky for me, my mom chose that day to come home early because of a migraine. I was about to shove him off when my mom did it for me. Actually it wasn't so much a shove as it was a hurl. She pretty much hurled him against the wall. I was torn between relief, humiliation, and fury. Of course, I only showed her the fury.
"Mother! How could you do this to me!?" I screamed, as Will grabbed his shirt, and bolted out of the house.
"How could I do this to you!? You're fifteen-years-old! Do you have any idea what the consequences to sex are!?"
"Of course I do. STDs, pregnancy. And we weren't having sex, not that that's any of your business!"
"Yeah, well, there are other kinds of consequences. Emotional ones. Do you really know what kind of guy this idiot is? Do you really know if you can trust him?"
"Of course I do," I replied, sounding more sure than I actually was. "Will's the most trustworthy guy I know. Did you see his face? Face of an angel."
A strange look came over my mom's face. "Pack your bags," she said, "We're going to Willow's wedding."
"But it's not for two weeks," I protested.
"I know. You can miss a little school. Go talk to your teachers and get your assignments tomorrow, and then we'll leave the next day. I was going to go up with Faith and Xander a couple days before the ceremony, but I think we should go now."
I protested a little bit more but not too vehemently, because going with my mom or not, LA was still cooler than school.
So that's how we found ourselves at LAX two days later. Neither my mom nor I ever mastered the art of packing lightly, so between the two of us we had about six suitcases, for a three week trip. I put two on a cart, and carried one, and had to remind her to do the same, as she seemed to be attempting to carry all three. I knew Willow had arrived to pick us up when my mom's face lit up. She dropped her suitcase and ran to her. They hugged like they hadn't seen each other in years, despite the fact that Willow had come to visit just a few months earlier. The two of them chatted all the way back to Willow and Nikki's house, which was absolutely gorgeous, not to mention huge. On top of Willow being a prof, Nikki was a lawyer, so they lived in luxury, compared to what I was used to, at least.
With Willow around, my mom and I actually started to get along okay. Willow usually diffused any tense situations, and actually convinced my mom to let me go clubbing with Nikki's niece, Skylar, who was visiting from Australia. Soon, more people started to arrive, including Uncle Giles, his girlfriend Olivia, and his stepchild Jason, who was 12. I kind of thought of Giles as a grandfather, despite the fact that we weren't related. He would give me CDs that my mother hated, saying he was glad to know that Summers women weren't genetically programmed to like horrible music. And he was like a dad to my mom. The only thing I didn't like about him was, whenever he, Willow, and my mom were together they would reminisce, sometimes laughing, sometimes looking like they were about to cry, but would always shut up completely when I came near.
When Xander and Faith arrived, they had a message for my mom. They tried to get me out of the room, but I hid outside and listened. Apparently some guy named Spike was trying to get in contact with her.
"I don't care," was her response, "I told him years ago, that I wouldn't forgive him. He knew the Shanshu wasn't for him, but he screwed Angel over, and took it anyway. He was a good man. But he didn't deserve it. There's no reason for him to see me. He's probably having the time of his life, having a life."
"I'm with B here. She has no reason to go see this bastard."
"Look, Buffy, he's sick," said Xander, "And speaking as the guy who, unlike y'all, never liked Spike, I think you should go see him anyway. He's just a guy, a poor, pathetic guy who never made it as a man."
"What do you mean when you say he's sick?" asked my mom, in her pretend-not- to-care voice.
"I don't know. He wasn't very specific, but I don't think he'd be calling if it wasn't serious. Look, it couldn't hurt, right?"
"Yeah, alright, I'll go see him."
The next day my mom told me she was going to the hospital to visit an old friend, but wouldn't say more. When she returned, she just told us all, "He's dying," and nothing more. I tried to ask who this Spike guy was, an old flame maybe, but Uncle Giles shushed me.
So anyways, I guess now is when we get to the real beginning of the story. At least, this is where it gets interesting. About a week before the wedding, Uncle Giles got a call from my Aunt Dawn, and said he had to go away for a few days. Faith and Xander decided that they would go too, for old time's sake, whatever that meant.
With the house a little less crowded, my mom and I decided to go shopping. We actually had a pretty good time, and she started telling me about growing up in LA and how all the stores she used to love are gone now. Searching for them got us a bit lost, and it was dark by the time we started heading back toward the car. All of a sudden a tall dark-haired man, maybe in his mid-late twenties, stepped in front of us, blocking our way.
"Angel?" my Mom asked, clearly surprised.
So this was the Angel people kept talking about. He was pretty hot, I thought, but didn't get how he could have been keeping Faith out of jail for years. He had to have been a teenager before I knew her.
"Hello, Lover," he said, smiling.
The blood drained out of my mom's face, as she quickly shoved me behind her. I barely had time to react to the grossness of somebody calling my mom Lover, when she told me to run. I didn't want to, but she pulled ahead of me, grabbing my hand and dragging me through the crowd. He didn't follow, just yelled "Come on, Slayer, you gone soft in your old age!? Just remember, you can't hide from fate! And neither can she!"
We made our way back to the car, and my mom sped away, refusing to answer my questions. After awhile I realized we weren't heading back to Willow's. We pulled up to a tall, fancy-looking building that said "Wolfram & Hart: Attorneys at Law" in front. My mom parked completely illegally, and signaled for me to get out of the car. I was tempted not to until she told me what was going on, but the look on her face warned me not to. We went to the front desk where my mom asked for someone named Wesley Wyndham Price, whoever that was, and was told to check the fourth floor. When we got up there, she went to the receptionist and asked again.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, Mr. Wyndham Price is in a meeting right now."
"I don't care. I need to speak to him immediately."
"Again ma'am, I'm sorry. I can take a message and—" She was cut off by my mom grabbing her collar, and yanking her across the desk.
"Call him," she warned. "Right now."
"Mom, what is going on!? Put her down!" I yelled, as the receptionist struggled to dial while being held by the throat.
"Mr. Wyndham Price, you've got a visitor."
"I told you this was an emergency meeting, Carrie. Take a message," came a British voice from the phone.
"Wesley, it's Buffy. Get out here now."
"I'll be right there," he said, and sure enough, a moment later he appeared from behind the doors of one of the offices. "Buffy."
"What the hell is going on? I just saw Angelus on the street."
"Oh God, did he hurt you?"
"No. I ran. I have more than just me to worry about nowadays," she said, nodding her head towards me.
"Look, Buffy, Wolfram & Hart has been trying to corrupt Angel for years. He's always thwarted them in the past, so we didn't expect..."
"If they've been trying to corrupt him for years then why the hell have you all stayed?"
"We can outsmart them. We can use their resources against them, I know it. We have been for years."
"Yeah, and now they've unleashed Angelus. Good plan, Wes. Is this what your meeting's about? How to stop Angelus with the powers given to you by those who let him out in the first place? I want you to take these people off this committee, or whatever it is. I'm calling Willow, and getting her to reverse the spell."
"Don't you think if it were as simple as a spell, we would have done it already? The process to reverse the spell this time is much more complex."
"I trust Willow. I don't trust your people."
"Would somebody please tell me what's going on!?"
"No. Look, this is serious. Just sit tight, and be quiet," said my mom, "Wesley and I have something important to discuss." Turning to Wesley, she said "Is there anywhere we can talk in private?"
He led her into an empty office, where they continued to argue. I had had enough by then. I figured if no one would tell me what was going on, I was leaving. They obviously didn't need me there. I exited the building, before realizing that I really had nowhere to go. I didn't know how to drive, and even if I did, I didn't have the car keys. Not to mention, I didn't have any idea how to get back to Willow's house.
Unfortunately, my problem was solved for me. I was walking down the sidewalk, head down, trying to figure out what to do, when a hand reached out from the shadows of an alley, and covered my mouth, drawing me into the darkness. I struggled but he was strong.
"Well, isn't this a nice turn of luck," he growled. "I couldn't have planned it better myself."
"Who are you?" I whispered, afraid that he would hurt me if I spoke up.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Have we not been properly introduced? The name's Angelus."
"Oh, hi," I said weakly.
"'Oh hi'? That's all I get? Why aren't you cowering in fear? Surely you've heard of me."
"Um, no, not really. Are you famous?"
"You mean to tell me that Buffy—your mother, I'm assuming—never warned you about me? I'm kind of hurt."
"She doesn't really talk about her past much."
"Wait. Don't tell me you don't know anything about her past?"
"Well, I know a little...I guess." At this point he had started to loosen his grip on my neck, so I tried to make a break for it. He was faster than I expected, though, and grabbed my arm, pulling me closer to him. At this point I started to realize exactly how serious the situation was, and started to cry.
"I love it when they cry," he smirked, "but you're still getting on my nerves. I think I'm going to take you somewhere where you can't try to escape. Okee dokee?" He shoved me against the wall and punched me in the face. I must have been knocked unconscious then, because I don't remember anything after that, for awhile.
I guess now would be a good time to explain what my mom was doing at this point. Of course, I can't know for sure, but this is the story I've been getting. She continued to argue with Wesley, after having him call Willow to explain what kind of spell she was up against. When she ensured that he was doing everything in his power to help, she went back to the lobby to find me, but, of course, discovered I was missing and panicked.
"Buffy, we've got vampire detectors everywhere in this building. He couldn't have gotten in without us noticing. She probably just got upset that you spoke to her so harshly, and decided to go back to Willow's."
"First of all, don't you dare tell me I spoke too harshly. You know nothing about raising children. Second, how the hell would she get back to Willow's? This city is totally alien to her!"
"You may be right. I supposed the best course of action at the moment would be to head back to Willow's and hope she turns up. Perhaps Willow could try some sort of locator spell also."
"Yeah, I guess you're right." Just as she was about to follow this advice, her cell phone rang.
"Buffy, it's Will. Listen, don't panic, but Angelus called here. He has Joan at some abandoned warehouse. He wants you there—alone."
"Don't panic!? Oh my God, oh my God. I worked her whole life to keep her away from this shit, and this is what happens? I guess he was right, you really can't hide from fate. What I need you to do is give me the address of this place, and then get to work on the spell. I don't care that you're out of practice with magic; I need you to do this for me. I'll sent Wes and Fred over to help you."
After getting the address, she hung up the phone, turned to Wesley, and said "I'm going to need weapons."
About an hour later, I was waking up in said abandoned warehouse. My head hurt something fierce, but I managed to sit up. As I did I noticed an unconscious man laying next to me. He was about 35, but had kind of a baby face. Angelus didn't seem to be around.
"Hey, wake up." I shook the man, until he slowly opened his eyes.
"Where are we?" he asked.
"I don't know," I replied, but I got enough strength to stand up and check the door, which, to no one's surprise, was locked. Just then, Angelus returned.
"Oh good, you're getting better acquainted. If things had been different, you two could have been siblings, you know that? You don't believe me, but it's complicated, you see—"
At that moment, the guy next to me jumped to his feet, and in an instant, had brought a gun up, and yelled "Freeze! LAPD!"
Angelus just laughed. "I can't believe I didn't check you for weapons. I never figured you'd still be fighting evil in this incarnation. Besides, I thought you had a college scholarship or something, Con"
The guy looked confused. "What'd you call me? And how did you know about my scholarship?" Before Angelus could answer he said, "You know what, it doesn't matter. You're under arrest. I want you to lay down on the—"
All of a sudden Angelus lunged at him. Before he even got close the gun went off, and I saw the bullet go right through his chest. I winced. I remember thinking that it was over then. But it wasn't. Far from it. The man, Con, or whatever his name was turned towards me to check that I was okay, but before I could even scream, Angelus stood up, and knocked him against the wall. But that wasn't the worst of it. His face had contorted into this monstrous visage. His eyebrow ridges became really pronounced and bumpy, and his teeth grew into long fangs. He looked—was it possible?—like a vampire?
"Okay, that hurt," he snarled. "I think it's time I showed you what's going to happen to you if you try anything like that," he said to me. Letting out a growl, he strode over to the man's unconscious form, and lifted him by the neck, with just one arm. "Wake up!" he yelled. Turning to me, he explained "It's no fun when they're unconscious."
Suddenly an arrow shot through his left shoulder. He turned, letting out an inhuman growl. By this time I had already realized who it was. My mom. My mom, holding some sort of weird medieval weapon, and looked more pissed off than I had ever seen her.
"Hello, Lover."
"Wait, he really is your lover!?"
"Joan, shut up." And for once, I did. I needed to let her handle this. Of course, it helped her case when she raised a huge sword, in front of her.
"Brings back memories, doesn't it, Buffy? Actually, I was hoping we could talk—." But obviously my mom wasn't in the mood to talk, as she raced forward, raising the sword over her head, and swung it at him, with obvious strength and skill. I was in shock, obviously. I mean, she was awesome! I didn't have much time to be excited, though, as he quickly disarmed her, so they were fighting hand to hand. And foot to foot. It was amazing. She was doing spinny kicks and even a back flip or two. But I could tell she was wearing out a lot faster than he was.
"Old age, has really gotten to you, huh? In a way, that's not as much fun. In another way, it really is," he taunted.
Instead of answering him, my mom just yelled to me to get outside. "And take this!" she called, as I raced toward her, throwing the cross she always wore around her neck at me. In the split second that it took to get the necklace off, he had her, yanking her into his chest. Before I could even react he sank his teeth into her neck.
"Mom!" I knew I was supposed to leave, but I just couldn't let her die. The excitement of seeing her go all Xena had quickly evaporated and turned into pure fear. As scared as I was, I knew I couldn't let her die. I searched for a weapon, but could find nothing. Suddenly I realized the significance of the cross. She wanted me to keep it—it couldn't have been for sentimental reasons. Maybe that whole cross-vampire thing was true. I didn't have time for maybes. Clasping the cross in my hand I ran up behind him and rammed the cross up against his neck. Smoke started to appear around it, and I was momentarily relieved when he dropped my mom, still conscious, but only barely. Only momentarily though, as he quickly turned around, grabbing my wrist so hard I was forced to drop the crucifix.
"You're going to pay for that, bitch!" he snarled. "Actually this works out great. Now your mother can watch you die, just like I had planned."
I caught my mom's eyes, which mirrored the terror I was sure showed in mine. She had lost a lot of blood and was slipping towards unconsciousness. I knew she wouldn't be able to help me now. I closed my eyes as I felt his teeth approaching my neck. Suddenly, he jerked away, and collapsed onto the ground. Confused, I backed away, towards my mom's now prostrate form.
He looked up, shifting back into his human face. When he saw my mom, he said fearfully "Buffy?"
Trying to muster up as much strength into my voice as I could, I said "You stay the hell away from her, you psycho." Even as I said this, I could tell something was different, just by looking at his eyes. The cruelty, the craziness was gone, replaced with confusion, guilt, and fear.
He attempted to move toward me, but I grabbed the cross, now laying on the ground, and held it up at him. He quickly shied away, hissing.
"Look, we need to get her to a hospital."
"You're telling me this!? Whose fault is it that she needs to?"
"Look, I know you don't want to trust me right now, but you need me to get her to a doctor. You can't carry her."
For some reason, I wanted to trust him, but I wouldn't let myself give in to my instincts. I wasn't going to fall for any tricks.
"What about that guy?" I asked, hoping to divert his attention, so I could figure out some way to get my mom out of there.
He turned, and upon seeing the huddled figure of the cop, gasped. "Oh God, Connor." He rushed to his side. I didn't want to leave the guy at his mercy, but I really only cared about my mom at that point. He heard me as soon as I started dragging my mom out.
"What are you doing? I bet you can't even drive. Are you planning to drag her the 10 miles to the nearest hospital?"
He seemed so genuinely concerned. I didn't understand. "Do you, like, not remember what happened?"
"No. I mean, yeah. It's coming back to me. Listen, Con—whatever his name is, is going to be fine. He just has a bruise. Your mom, on the other hand, needs a blood transfusion right away. She barely survived this at eighteen; I don't know what it's going to do to her now."
"Look, I want to trust you, I really do, but I can't put my mom's life in the hands of the guy who just about took it."
"Then I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For this," he answered, batting the cross away, and knocking me to the ground in the process. He then grabbed my mom off the floor.
"No!" I screamed, pounding my fists against his back. He sighed, then turned to me, and backhanded me across the face. I was unconscious before I hit the floor.
I woke up to the sweet, refreshing smell of hospital. A nurse came in and started when she saw I was awake.
"My mom?" I asked, almost not wanting to know the answer to the question. God, I didn't know if she was dead or alive. Come to think of it, I didn't even know if she had made it to the hospital at all.
She checked my chart and then said "Oh. Buffy Summers? She's sleeping in the room next door, but we gave her a transfusion and she'll be fine."
The relief I felt at that moment was indescribable. "Can I go see her?"
"Sure, but I don't see the point. I mean, she's pretty zonked out."
"That's okay." I got out of bed, wincing, as my head throbbed. When I got to the door of the next room, the pain was forgotten as I noticed Angelus, sitting by my mom's bed, holding her hand.
He looked up, hearing me start. "Don't you think she'd be dead by now if I wanted to hurt her?"
I had to admit that was true. Just then my mom started to stir. I rushed to the side of the bed opposite to him, still slightly wary, but not enough to keep me from her.
"Joan?" she murmured, her eyes flickering. I smiled. Then she tilted her head slightly. "Angel?" Suddenly she seemed to recollect the circumstances leading to her hospitalization, and reached out, attempting to push me back, toward the door.
"It's me, Buffy," he said softly.
Like me, she seemed inclined to believe him, despite all the reasons not to. "But...but." She struggled to speak. "But you're wearing leather pants."
Angelus cracked a smile, this one much different from those that had earlier adorned his face. "I didn't have time to change. I wish I had though. These things are chafing me."
"Well, here's a thought. Don't get evil." Despite the joking tone of voice, both he and I could tell she was serious. "How many times have I warned you about those people? How many times has Giles, has Xander? And after everything that happened with Gunn, I just don't know how you could trust them."
"I didn't. But I thought I could handle it."
"Yeah, well, you've always been a little full of yourself. And this time it put my daughter in danger. So if you don't cut ties with them now, I'm going to take it as a sign of severe disrespect. If Angelus had hurt her..."
"I know. I'm sorry."
He really did look sorry. Although, to be fair, he sort of looked perpetually sorry anyway.
"That being said, I did miss you."
"I missed you too."
"Okay, now that you're over the part where you bitch at this guy for trying to hurt me, I say you give me the explanation I'm long overdue for," I interjected.
And for the first time ever, she did. It took almost an hour for her to tell me everything, and even then I felt like she was summarizing. The things she had been through...they were just, just not mom things. I won't bore you (whoever you are) with the details. Pretty much, my mom was destined to be a vampire slayer. Starting when she was sixteen, she and her friends battled evil, some of them dying or getting hurt along the way. It was all pretty intense. Apparently Angel was her high school boyfriend. I know. Don't ask me, I don't get it either. Something about a gypsy curse and a soul. But when he loses his soul he goes all Angelus. She was a little unclear about how he might lose it, but I got the impression I didn't want to know anyway.
There were a couple of things she wouldn't tell me. Like about Faith and the whole killing-people conversation. All she would say was that it was in the past and didn't matter now. She also glossed over something about Willow going a little berserk. And she refused to tell me about her relationship with that Spike guy. But at the time I hardly noticed. I was already thrown enough by the rest of the story.
When she was finished with her spiel, she looked at me hesitantly, willing me to say something. All I could think of was "I need to take a walk."
Of course, being dressed in only a hospital gown, my stroll was restricted to the hallways of the hospital. As I walked past one of the doors, a voice startled me out of my reverie.
"Little bit!"
I peered into the door. In the bed was a frail-looking older man. I could tell from his voice he was British and his hair, or what was left of it, was died a sickening-looking bleach blonde. His roots, which were over an inch long were brown, and dry and brittle-looking. The man was hooked up to a few different machines, none of which I recognized.
"Are you talking to me?"
"Yeah. I saw Angel bring you in. You and, and her."
"My mom?"
"Mum, eh? I should have guessed. You look more like the little bit though. Her sister, that is."
"How do you know her? How do you know any of them?"
"Oh, we go way back. Me and Angel too. Haven't spoken to either of them in awhile, though. Not since..."
"Hey, you're not Spike, are you?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I am actually. Why? You heard of me?" He half-smiled as he said this. It was a smile with a story, a smile that looked like it was sexy once, probably long ago. It was a smile that hadn't been used in awhile. A smile that quickly faded when he saw the look on my face. "Only the bad, I suppose. I guess I can't expect any better after what I did. But I'm not, I'm not a monster, if that's what they've been telling you."
"They didn't actually tell me too much. You seem like kind of a sore subject."
"Always have been. Anyway, if it helps, I am sorry."
"That might mean a little more if I knew what you did," I answered impatiently.
"It's kind of a sore subject for me, if you must know."
"Obviously you want to tell me, or you wouldn't have called me in here."
He looked ready to argue, but though better of it, and just said "Yeah, I guess you're right. Well, I won't bore you with the details, but there was this prophecy that said a vampire with a soul could turn human, if he made up for his sins, you know? And Angel had been working at his helping the helpless business for a while there, expecting to get a cookie at the end, like a good boy, when I came along with my soul, and my own save-the-world tale to tell. When I heard about this prophecy...I wanted it. I wanted it so badly. I was young, you see? Well, that sounds stupid. I mean, I was well over a hundred, but I was confused. I didn't know who I was, and I thought this Shanshu thing was a way to figure it out once and for all. So I outsmarted Angel. He never really had the brain power I did, no matter what Dru or Buffy thought. And I took the reward, the prize. Some prize it's turned out to be. I didn't know how to be human. Buffy never forgave me for stealing what was rightfully Angel's, so it's not like I could walk off into the sunset with her. Not that I could anyway. I didn't know how to be nice, how to survive. I didn't know how to do anything other than lie, steal, and cheat. But somehow with my soul I convinced myself I was above that. Who was I kidding? I had super-strength. I could steal anything I needed, and convince myself I was a hero, and I deserved it. When I was human I had to get a job, a life, and I didn't know how. And now I'm pathetic. I got a job in construction. God, how I used to laugh at that poncy Xander for being in construction, and there I was, in a fucking hard hat. A yellow hard hat! I don't wear yellow. At least Xander moved up. I was never good at my job, always just average. And it wasn't just yellow I didn't look good in anymore. I gained weight, lost my hair, and now this. Fucking lung cancer. Cigarettes never hurt me; I never even thought about them. Shows how prepared I was for human life. It doesn't matter now anyhow. 'Cause I'm dying. I've wasted this life, that shouldn't have been mine to begin with. And I would give anything to take back what I did. Angel—Angel had no doubt that he would rather be pathetic than a monster. Me—I'm not so sure."
"Have you told my mom how bad you feel?"
"Feeling bad means nothing, Little Bit. Action is all that matters, and I made the wrong one. Wrong. Everything was easier when wrong was non- existent."
"Yeah, I guess." I was starting to feel uncomfortable. This guy looked like he was about to drop any second, and I didn't think I could handle watching a guy die in front of me, especially one as pathetic as this. "Look, maybe I could get my mom to listen to you. I mean, if you're dying...she can be more understanding than you think."
He looked momentarily grateful, but then his face hardened again. "Thanks, but it doesn't matter. Since I got sick, I've realized that even getting an official Buffy pardon doesn't mean it was right. For so long, even after my soul I thought right was just what Buffy wanted. But there's more to it than that. So I can't rely on her opinion to make me feel better anymore. But really, thanks."
"OK, well it was nice meeting you." The words sounded embarrassingly hollow. As I stepped into the hallway I made up my mind that I was going to at least try to convince her to talk to him. I had never seen anyone look so sad before. I approached her door quietly, in case she had dozed off, but paused when I heard voices. I knew I shouldn't eavesdrop, but I was still incredulous enough to want to confirm that this whole thing wasn't some mass conspiracy.
"Angel, I've been thinking," said my mom, at the same time as he said "Buffy—."
They both smiled. He nodded his head to her, indicating she should go first, and she complied. "Remember when you left Sunnydale, that first time? The conversation we had in the sewer?"
"Of course."
"You said that we couldn't be together because I would need more in life than you could give me. And I agree now, as much as I didn't understand then. Because you couldn't have given me Joan, and I wouldn't take her back for anything. But I've got Joan now, and that part of me is fully satisfied. But I just—I've dated some in the last few years, but it never goes anywhere, and I've always, deep down, known why." Angel looked like he was about to interrupt, but thought better of it. "It's because they're not you. So maybe, and this is a big maybe, but maybe we can make it work. Because anything's got to be better than missing you."
Angel looked troubled, like he didn't know what to say, but finally came out with "But Buffy, what's changed since then?"
"Well, all the shiny new slayers, for one. And, I mean, we both make money now, granted, you make a lot more than me, but I'm not opposed to you being my sugar daddy." I shuddered. Mothers could be so gross.
"But what about. ..you know, the sex thing," he practically whispered.
"Good lord, how many centuries old are you going to have to be before you can say that without blushing?"
"Buffy, I'm serious. You can't tell me that's not important."
"I know, but I'm older now, and not nearly as horny," she jokes, as I, again, shudder. "But in all seriousness, I think we could give it a try, anyway. I mean, I know I don't quite look like I used to--."
"Hey, I'm offended that you would think that was my reason. I just—look, I miss you too. I don't deny it. But we have to be responsible."
"I know. But I'm sick and tired of being responsible. Because the timer's gone off, and I'm cookies and you're not hungry." I couldn't make head or tail of this argument, but the pained look on her face made me feel really bad for her. There was an awkward silence, so I took the opportunity to knock on the door.
"Mom? I'm sorry to interrupt, but if you're well enough, I think you should come with me. There's somebody who wants to see you."
"Somebody who wants to see—oh for God's sake, it's not Spike, is it?" The expression on my face confirmed her belief. "Great, now he's using my daughter to get to me. When is that asshole going to realize that I'm not going to forgive him?" I then told her what he said about knowing her forgiveness wouldn't make it okay, and her face softened a bit.
At this point, I was surprised to hear Angel interjecting. "Maybe she's right, Buffy. He's dying. It doesn't do any good to hold a grudge now."
"Giles once told me that we don't forgive people because they deserve it, but because they need it," she said softly
"Exactly," I argued, and pleaded with her, until she agreed to get up. She groaned as she tried to sit up, causing Angel to run to her side and offer to carry her. Good lord, the boy was whipped. Why couldn't I find a guy like that? Anyway, Mom seemed reluctant, until she realized that otherwise, it would take her an hour to walk three doors down. Angel effortlessly hoisted her into his arms, and the three of us made our way to Spike's room. On the way, we ran into a very freaked out looking Xander.
"Oh, God, Buff. Thank God you're okay," he said, obviously relieved to see her alive and conscious, if not well. He made an effort to hug her without hugging Angel, and failed miserably. "Angel, why the hell do you have her up?"
"And when the hell are you going to learn that I can take care of myself. I wanted to be up," answered my mom. Xander's protectiveness seemed to cause her to actually want to go to Spike's room, so we kept going, as I filled Xander in on the Spike situation.
When we appeared in the door way, Spike took one look at my mom in Angel's arms and started laughing, a harsh, bitter laughter that soon turned into a coughing fit. Angel obviously hadn't seen Spike for awhile, as he looked horrified at his condition.
Before anyone could say anything, a bright light appeared on the other side of Spike. My mother immediately attempted to shield me with her arm, while still holding onto Angel, who took the hint and stepped in front of me. But somehow I wasn't getting a dangerous vibe from it, and I didn't think anyone else was either.
Suddenly Xander gasped. "Ahn?" he asked tentatively, as a figure emerged from the light. As she became more clear, I realized she was a beautiful woman, maybe in her early-to-mid twenties.
She smiled, a gorgeous, clear smile. "Hi, Xander." Nobody made a move; they all seemed in so much shock. And if these freaks were shocked, this must have been a pretty major development. "Buffy, Spike, Angel, Joan." She nodded at us all in turn. "I'm here to grant a wish."
"A wish? But...you're still a vengeance demon? And none of us made a wish," said Xander, clearly confused.
"No, I'm in a different line of work now. Not vengeance exactly."
"You're an angel," I breathed.
"I guess you could call it that. And it's true none of you made a wish, per se, but one of you made a prayer. And that's why I'm here." Turning to Spike, she said "Your prayer's been granted," and then, quicker than her arrival, she was gone.
Before anyone could say a word, a loud beeping was heard. At the same moment, we all realized what it was and rushed to Spike's bedside. His heart had stopped. A nurse ran in, and shoved us all out of the room. We were standing in the hallway, unsure of what to do or say, when Angel gasped, his face contorting. He looked like he was about to pass out, so Xander grabbed my mom, who was still in his arms. As soon as she was safe, he collapsed on the floor, clutching his chest. My mom struggled out of Xander's arms and dropped to the floor next to Angel, cradling his head in her lap.
"Angel!" she cried out, as he slumped into unconsciousness. A doctor came rushing toward him, looking to help, but Xander convinced him he was more needed in Spike's room.
Suddenly Angel opened his eyes and took a huge gulp of air. "Buffy?" he asked, uncertain of his surroundings. She smiled, clearly relieved. "Buffy, I'm alive," he said, realization dawning on his face.
"Yeah, I noticed that, what with the talking," she replied sarcastically.
"No, I mean I'm alive," he stressed, bringing her palm to his chest. A look came over my mom's face then, like I had never seen. She looked like a huge weight had been lifted off of her, a weight that had been there as long as I had known her. Then, she rolled on top of him and started making out with him, a sight I'll need industrial strength soap to wash out of my brain.
Anyway, I guess you can imagine what happened after that. This isn't the Return of the King, so I'll just end it now, leaving something to your imagination. Just so you don't worry though, we did live happily ever after.