Title: Fly Away
Rating: R for language
Summary: Rewrite of The Wish (btvs s3) canon up until the fight in the factory. Written for dawnm for the Back to High School Ficathon. Requirements at the end.
Distribution: Want take have, just tell me first.
Feedback: I'd love some.
Disclaimer: Not mine, never mine pout The scene you recognize in this chapter is from Becoming 2 with me adding a bit to it.
Chapter Two
-Buffy-
I wake up and for a moment I can't remember where I'm at but I know the bed is softer then the one at home. Someone, probably Jeeves, came in and covered me with an extra blanket and shut the window I left open. I throw on my camouflage pants and a black tank. I shove my feet into tennis shoes and braid my hair quickly. I jog down the stairs without any noise. I learned a long time noise draws attention and the attention in my case is generally not a good thing.
Jeeves is surprised when I snatch some kind of biscuit off the plate in front of him.
"Oh, Buffy, good you're awake. Did you sleep well?" he asks.
Why the fuck does he care? Doesn't matter how I sleep. It's not like it'll stop me from doing my job, but whatever. I shrug. "Yeah, it was fine. Thanks" I say. For some reason I hadn't pointed out that his snoring kept me up a good portion of the night. Off my game I guess.
"Would you like some tea? And please have another scone" Jeeves says with a gesture to the teapot and the plate of biscuits in front of him.
"Sure" I say.
He pours me a cup of tea and gets me my own little plate for the things he calls scones. I pour cream into my tea and add about six lumps of sugar. I notice Jeeves smiling at me. Makes me think he's up to something or else I've fucked something up, offended his English sensibility or something. Whatever, I'm not gonna mention it if he doesn't.
"Oz will be over later. He's rather good with that computer thing. He's going to do some kind of searching on real estate and see perhaps if he can ascertain where the Master might have retreated. Do you need to call your watcher, Richard, and let him know how things went so he won't be concerned?" Jeeves asks.
I snort with laughter. "Concerned why the fuck would he be concerned? Nah, I'll talk to him when I get back to Cleveland."
Jeeves draws his eyebrows together and creases his forehead all up. I notice he's got a very faint scar that bisects his forehead. It's only visible when he wrinkles up his forehead. It makes me wonder where he got it, not that I care but it's unusual in my experience for Watchers to step outside their comfy libraries long enough to get injured. He takes his glasses off and cleans them on his shirt.
"Yes, very well then. I thought perhaps he would be concerned for your welfare" Jeeves says.
"No reason for him to be. I die another gets called and he gets the benefit of a paycheck with no job" I say.
"Buffy, it's not as cut and dried as that" Jeeves says.
"No, it kind of is" I say.
Jeeves stands up and starts to pace. He continues cleaning his glasses, which I'm sure must have been clean a while ago.
"Your theory is correct. When you die another slayer will be called, but it's just not that simple. We're talking about your life" Jeeves says.
"Yeah and it's expendable. I'm a soldier, Jeeves, warrior against the evil and all that shit. Soldiers die" I say.
Jeeves replaces his glasses and smile sadly at me. "That doesn't mean we don't mourn their passing."
-Angel-
i "Buffy, what's going on? Where are we? I-I don't remember" I say softly. My voice is filled with confusion and pain.
"Angel?" Buffy says.
"You're hurt" I say noticing the cut on her arm.
I put my arms around her and hold her close. I bury my nose in her hair, taking deep breathes of her. She smells confused and hurt and afraid. I don't know why she's all of these things. I can't remember.
"Oh Buffy...God. I-I feel like I haven't seen you in months. Oh, my God, everything's so muddled. I-"I stop and hold her closer, tighter, trying to make everything okay the only way I know how.
"Oh," I say and kiss her on the shoulder "oh, Buffy."
She starts crying. I know because I smell it. She buries her head in my shoulder and lets the tears soak my black, silk shirt. I can hear a rumbling behind me but I don't want to let her go to find out what it is. She pulls back from a little bit and looks up into my face. Her eyes are painted with pain and tears.
"What's happening?" I ask, growing more confused by the moment.
"Shhh, don't worry about it" she says.
Buffy brushes her fingers across my lips and my cheek. My heart soars at her touch and I can't figure out why there's all the confusion and the pain and the tears. She's touching me what could possibly be wrong? She lays her hand on my cheek and kisses me so softly. I can taste the tears on her lips. I deepen the kiss, making it more passionate, filling it with want and need and desire, replacing all the pain, all the confusion. Buffy breaks off the kiss and looks deeply into my eyes.
"I love you" she whispers.
"I love you" I respond.
"Close your eyes" she whispers and her voice cracks just a little.
She nods at me slightly, reassuring me and I close my eyes, trusting in her completely. She kisses me again and it tastes like goodbye and that's confusing too. This isn't goodbye this is hello again, this is forever, this is always.
And then the pain slices through me. It consumes my body and my eyes fly open. I gasp for breathe and watch as Buffy backs away slowly. I look down and there's a sword stuck in my gut. I look back up at Buffy for answers but there are none. She's crying and backing further away with every second. I hold my hand out to her, reaching for my salvation, the only salvation I've ever had.
"Buffy," /i
And I wake up screaming her name.
I sit up shaky and covered in a cold sweat. I rub at my abdomen, the place where the sword in the dream went through. I even look down, searching for a mark of any kind, expecting to see the sword still protruding.
"Just a dream" I say to the silence of my apartment. Somehow I know it wasn't though. It was almost like memory except I think I'd remember Buffy sticking a sword through me and sending me into a portal to somewhere. I think I'd remember Buffy kissing me and I think I'd remember Buffy loving me. I know I'd remember loving Buffy, all my existence I'd remember loving Buffy. I get up from my 'bed' on the rug and wander into the bathroom. It's probably a little excessive to take another shower but it's a luxury I haven't really indulged in for a very long time so I blast the hot water on and take another long shower.
I dress in a pair of black slacks and a white button down shirt. I indulge in another luxury, or at least it seems like one after the past couple of years, fresh blood two days in a row. I drink my fill and it's odd that I'm not hungry. I spend the rest of the day cleaning up the apartment, changing bed sheets, which might take me a while to get comfortable sleeping in again. I seem to remember it did the first time too.
By the time I'm finished it's nearly dusk. I pace in my apartment a little while longer just waiting until its safe to go outside. I'd almost forgotten about playing this game, waiting and somehow the waiting grows longer when I'm anxious to be out there instead of cooped up.
Finally the sun slips below the horizon. I grab a mid length black leather jacket from the closet and toss it over my clothes and slip into the night. My first stop is the morgue. I know Buffy mentioned cleaning it out last night. If she's really walking into a nest I want to be sure she's got some backup, although she might not thank me for it in the end.
On the way to the morgue I can't help but think of my dream again. That place just below my rib cage still aches and it's not from anything Willow ever did to me. It's a deeper ache, bone deep, soul deep. I can hear a scuffle going on inside the morgue as I approach so I pick up the pace. She left the door open, or maybe one of the vamps did the shatter job on the glass. I pause at the door of the main autopsy room and she literally stops me in my tracks. She's gorgeous to watch. She's all fluid grace and power. She braces her hands on the edge of a steel autopsy table and kicks her legs up, twisting in the air as she does. She hits two of the vamps under the chin, knocking them back. She snatches a nasty looking cleaver of some sort up and tosses it at the first vamp, the one that stumbled against the wall. The cleaver has deadly aim, slicing through the vamp's neck and sticking in the wall. The new vamp is dust before he can utter a sound.
That seems to scare the second vamp because he decides fleeing might be an option. I catch him at the door and toss him back into the room. He lands on his back on the table where Buffy is still standing. She whips a stake from behind her back and shoves it through the vamp's heart. The vamp leaves a fine layer dust all over the table.
"Thanks" she says.
I nod. "I'm glad I could help."
"Yeah, so what are you doing here? Don't you have people to eat, a Master to find and grovel too?" She asks. Her voice is hard and cynical again. It seems like every bit of head way I made with her last night is gone.
"Buffy, I don't feed off people anymore and I was never at the Master's by choice. I'm not one of his vampires anymore" I say.
"Anymore? But you were" she says. She jumps up on top of the morgue table and sits there staring at me, swinging her legs and waiting for an answer.
I sigh. "A long time ago, I was. I'm two hundred and forty three years old, Buffy. That's a lot of history. I've done a lot of things I regret but that's the point now, I regret them."
"Yeah kind of like Jeeves is gonna regret the hell out of not incinerating the entire factory when I tell him I dusted six vamps in the morgue" she says.
Six, she took on six by herself. Worry crashes over me and I start looking for wounds, any sign that she's hurt.
"Are you okay?" I ask.
She shrugs. "One of them got a hold of knife. There's a cut on my shoulder blade but I can't see it. I'm pretty sure it's not going to kill me," she says.
I swallow my worry and fear. It's a thick knot in my stomach. "Can I see?" I ask. She shrugs again. "Sure, just remember it doesn't impair my staking ability in case you get any ideas being so close to my neck."
I sigh and nod. I deserve it I know but that doesn't mean I like hearing it, especially from her. "I've already eaten tonight, pig's blood from the butcher," I say.
I walk over to her, careful to stay out of reach, not because I'm worried about her. If she stakes me, well after the dream I'm not so sure it's not supposed to happen that way. I stay out of reach because I don't want to make her uncomfortable.
Once I get behind her I creep closer, slowly and I know it's not just because I don't want to make her feel uncomfortable. In part it is because I'm afraid of the way touching her will make me feel. If being in the same vicinity can make me feel almost alive, what's actually touching her skin going to do? I'm about to find out and I wonder when the walls in here started closing in. I reach out a hand and I'm trembling. She's got a long 5 inch gash that goes diagonally across her shoulder blade. I move aside the thin strap of her black tank and swallow hard. Her skin is hot to the touch and so silky smooth. I feel like I'm drowning, like I can't catch my breath and I'm having a heart attack, all impossible things for a vampire to feel and yet.
"So is it going to kill me?" She asks.
I clear my throat and snatch my hand back. "No, it could use some antiseptic and a bandage though" I say.
She jumps from the table and dusts her hands over her rear end and I can't help but notice it's a nice rear end.
"Okay then we'll go back to Jeeves'-"
"Giles" I correct her.
"We'll go back the English guy's house and fix up my shoulder and see if the short dude has found anything out" she says.
"His name is Oz" I say.
"What is your obsession with names?" She asks.
I shrug. "It-humanizes people when you know their names and it's respectful to use them" I say.
"Whatever" she says.
In the short time I've known her I realize this is Buffy's way of putting up a wall, keeping that defense high. I can't even see the top it's so high. I don't know how Whistler or the Powers are ever going to fix this but no matter what they do, it's got to be better then it was.
-Buffy-
He's walking at least three feet behind with his head down. It would bother me, make me nervous if it weren't such a submissive position. And that kind of creeps me out. I mean I'm kind of used to being the one in charge. I'm the take charge girl, but I'm not used to people being so damn submissive around me. He's a fucking vampire at least act like you've got some balls for Christ sake.
"Can we drop the whipped puppy routine 'cause if you haven't noticed I'm into staking them not torturing them so you've got no worries around me" I snap.
"Sorry, it kept me alive while I was there" he mumbles and I instantly feel bad for snapping at him which is ridiculous hello vampire not a human being.
"Yeah well you're not in the cage anymore" I say. It's the closest I can come to an apology to him.
"I don't know if I ever thanked you for that" he says.
I can't help but notice that he's cleaned up. He's got on nice clothes and he's taken a shower recently. His hair is still sticking up in that funny 'I just got out of bed and couldn't be bothered to comb my hair' way but then I guess, no reflection he's got an excuse unlike most of the guys in Cleveland. He looks like a regular Joe, okay a really pale, really handsome regular Joe but most people certainly wouldn't point and say vampire. And I so don't need to be thinking about a demon being handsome. I shake my head, trying to get rid of that idea. I draw back my shoulders and wince as it pulls on the cut.
"Are you okay?" He says and I wanna slap him and tell him not to sound so damned concerned. I'm his mortal enemy not his friend.
"I'm fine. I just forgot it was cut. It must be starting to heal because it pulls like its scabbing" I say.
"Hold up a second and I'll look at it again" he says.
I stop and he jogs up behind me. I bow my head and look at the sidewalk focusing on the crack that runs along it. Grass is beginning to grow there. I will myself not to shiver when he touches me. Myself doesn't listen. It surprises me, his touch, I expected it to be colder or harder or something but it's not. His hands are cool, like the air from a fan. His touch is so gentle, so light and I can feel him trembling. I guess being this close to your mortal enemy is terrifying, or at least it should be. Shouldn't it? Only I'm not, terrified that is. My heart is pounding, my breath is hard to draw, like my lungs are squeezed to tight and I feel dizzy almost like I've got a flu bug but none of it is from terror.
"You broke it open again but it's not even bleeding that much this time" he says.
I nod and step away from him. "Thanks let's just get to Giles' and get it patched up" I say.
He doesn't point out that I finally said Jeeves' name right.
"So you staked six vampires in the morgue" Giles says.
"And somehow I told you so doesn't seem enough" I snap.
My bad mood could have something to do with the searing pain Giles is putting me through by repeatedly dabbing alcohol on my shoulder blade. Yes I'm the slayer, yes I handle pain better then regular people that doesn't mean I like it. The bad mood could also have to do with Angel cowering in the corner of the couch like I'm going to start spraying him with holy water. I can't help but notice he never takes his eyes off of me. Paranoid much? I mean how many more times can I stress if I wanted him dead I would have killed him by now.
"You know, Giles I really don't need all this antiseptic and sterilizing and bandaging. I'm the slayer the healing kind of comes naturally" I say.
"Yes well, better safe then sorry" he says.
He smoothes on the last piece of tape and I stand up quickly, shying out of the way. I'm not used to all this worry and attention. It makes me uncomfortable hands touching me and voices lowered in concern. I'm the slayer. I'm in danger that's part of the deal so is dying. I know it's going to happen and I'll be young when it does. It's part of the gig, like I told Giles. I'm a soldier I was made to die. It's my job.
"So, Oz, you find anything that looks like the Master could be hiding out?" I ask.
"Not really. The problem with Sunnydale is there are a lot of abandoned buildings. He could be in any of them. They don't seem real keen on actually buying the real estate and leaving a paper trail" Oz says.
"Those crazy uncooperative vamps" I grumble.
I pace the living room filled with restless energy. That tingling tugging feeling is back and it's driving me a little crazy. I shouldn't still be this keyed up after a fight. I grab my right elbow with my left hand and pull it across my body to pop my shoulder. I feel cool fingers on my arm.
"Buffy, don't you'll break the cut open again" Angel says softly. He snatches his fingers away the moment he says it, as if I burn.
I release my elbow and resume my pacing. I run my fingers through my hair and grumble.
"I gotta get outta here and do something. I'm gonna go crazy with the waiting" I say. I snatch up a couple of stakes and shove them in the back waistband of my pants. I tuck a bottle of holy water in one of my pockets.
"I'll come with you" Angel says.
I start to tell him no, stay with Giles and Oz but it's clear he's uncomfortable around them and while he's not exactly comfortable with me at least I know what he is. I nod and jerk my head toward the door.
"We'll be back in a few hours, Jeeves" I say.
"Giles and yes we'll be here trying to dig up what we can on the Master" Giles says.
We're walking through one of the cemeteries in Sunnydale, there are twelve which surprises me because it's a small town. Cleveland doesn't even have that many. The cemeteries here are prettier, big, old ornate headstones and lots of crypts. Cleveland's cemeteries are more organized, low flat headstones everything laid in neat rows. There's a certain kind of poetry to Sunnydale cemeteries. They look the way cemeteries should.
I toss my stake up into the air and catch it behind my back. Angel trails along behind me. I pause at a big double headstone and sit down on it. Angel sits on the headstone across from me.
"So you're two hundred and forty three years old, how long have you had the soul?" I ask.
He grimaces, as if it's a difficult conversation to have. "A century, give or take a few years" he says.
I nod. "So before you were the Master's pet, what did you do?"
He looks down at his feet. I watch him as he white knuckles the tombstone. "Not much. I hung out in alleys a lot, fed off...well I didn't eat gourmet and before you say it I didn't feed off humans. I haven't, not since the day I got my soul." He casts a quick glance at me and then looks back down to his feet.
"So what changed?" I ask.
He takes a deep breath and I wonder why he bothers. It's not as if he needs to breathe. It doesn't even have any benefits as far as I know. I always thought vampires did the breathing thing to trick humans, make them think their human. I know he's not human so I don't understand the breathing.
"A guy sort of like an immortal saint working for the Powers that be looked me up in New York. He asked me if I wanted to become someone, contribute to society and get out of the existence I was in. It's not like I had a lot of other offers so I got in a car with him" he stops and fidgets. He stands up and paces.
"Where did he take you?" I finally ask, curious to hear more about how a vampire with a soul came to be here of all places.
"If I tell you this, you got to believe me. I-I wouldn't have known except Whistler, the guy, showed me. He said he had something to show me, something that was going to change my life. Something the Powers wanted me to see," Angel says. He glances nervously at me.
I narrow my eyes and touch my hand to the small of my back where the stake is stashed in my waistband. The tingling tugging feeling is giving me some weird vibes now and my stomach flutters with butterflies.
"Drop the cryptic and just tell me" I say.
"I saw you, before you were called. He showed me you. You were sitting on the stairs in front of your school. You had a lollipop and you were talking to your friends. The sun was shining on you. He told me you were going to have it hard, that you could use some help and more then anything in my life I wanted to make things easier for you. Your entire life was about to change and you had no idea" he says.
"You bastard, you fucking stalked me!" I yell and spring up from the tombstone. I launch a roundhouse kick that he ducks. He doesn't get so lucky with the right hook I sling his way. I catch him in the jaw and he stumbles back.
"No, Buffy I swear. I didn't. Whistler told me you were my destiny. I was supposed to help you" Angel says.
"I bet that works for most of fucking air heads out there, gets them right in your bed. Do they let you bite them after you fuck them or do you just drain them? Maybe this whole soul shit is just that, shit all designed to fuck with the slayer, make me weak, easy prey for the Master here" I catch him in the gut with a side kick and he flies through the air landing on his back with a whoof. I straddle him and hold my stake centimeters above his heart.
He shakes his head. "I'm telling the truth. I wouldn't lie to you. If I had wanted to I could have walked in Giles' house last night while you were sleeping and killed you or him." He puts his hands up and looks away submissively. I shove myself off of him and turn my back. I can't kill something that fucking submissive. It'd be like whipping a cowed dog and I like dogs.
He gets to his feet slowly and backs off a little ways. I glance over my shoulder and he's standing slightly hunched in the shadows.
"Where did you get the clothes, the shower?" I ask.
"Whistler, last night after you left he showed up again. He gave me some cash and the keys to my apartment. It had been kept exactly the way I'd left it. He said the Powers were trying to make things right." he says.
"If I was your fucking destiny, what happened?" I ask.
Angel steps out of the shadows toward me just a little bit. "I don't know. After Whistler showed you to me, he brought me here, set me up with the apartment, some cash. He told me to establish contacts, get used to the town. He said you would be here. He said something would happen in Los Angeles and that you and your mother would come here. Rupert Giles was supposed to be your watcher."
I shake my head. "No fucking way. Your friend, I don't know how he knew about me but he sold you some beach side property in Arizona" I say.
"What happened, Buffy?" Angel asks.
-Angel-
My jaw hurts like hell. In all my years, I've never been hit by a slayer. I avoided them. Now I know why. She hits like a two ton wrecking ball. There's blood on the corner of my mouth and I don't want to lick it. I'm afraid she'll see. I don't know why I'm afraid of her seeing, it's not like she doesn't know what I am. She knows I drink blood. I wipe at the corner of my mouth and watch her. I'm careful to wipe the blood off my hand onto my pants but the instinct to lick it off is there lying under the surface.
She's pacing between the headstones. She's all coiled power and strength like a jaguar waiting to pounce. She shakes her head and pulls her thick braid over her shoulder. She pulls the band holding it out and works her fingers through it. Her hair cascades around her shoulders and down her back in golden ripples. In 243 years she is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
"What happened? You want to know what the fuck happened? People died, more vamps died and I got sent to Cleveland. I was never sure if being sent to a Hellmouth was like a Slayer promotion or not. My Dad wasn't around much so I ended up living with the asshat, Richard. Besides in the immortal words of Hank Summers 'Richard is better equipped to deal with what you are'" Buffy says.
She hasn't told me anything personal and yet I ache for her. The pain and bitterness overflows into her every word, her every action and I know that there had to have been a lot of details between now and then that built her armor.
"So you lived with your Dad, not your Mom?" I say, probing for something more personal, some clue that changed my sunshine girl into what she is today.
Buffy laughs bitterly and the sound cracks the night air. "Yeah, after I burned down the gym and did that stint in the mental hospital Mom decided I was just too much juvenile delinquent and that Dad was better equipped to handle me."
My throat closes. They'd put her in a mental hospital. My mind rushes to provide me with visions of my sunshine girl locked into restraints, being pumped full of drugs and being told by oblivious doctors that there is no such thing as vampires or demons. Then once she'd gotten out they'd passed her back and forth between homes like a stray cat.
"Buffy, they shouldn't have..." I trail off. I don't know what to say to her.
"Yeah maybe not but they did. You know Dad never did apologize for the mental hospital after he found out that there were vampires, that I was a slayer. He just handed me over to Richard and agreed I was better off living there. Anyway, fuck it. It doesn't matter" she says.
"Yes it does" I force the words out of my throat.
She shakes her head and turns her back to me. She's trying hard not to cry but I can smell the very faint tinge of salt. She swipes at her eyes and turns back toward me.
"Not to the right people" she says.
Rating: R for language
Summary: Rewrite of The Wish (btvs s3) canon up until the fight in the factory. Written for dawnm for the Back to High School Ficathon. Requirements at the end.
Distribution: Want take have, just tell me first.
Feedback: I'd love some.
Disclaimer: Not mine, never mine pout The scene you recognize in this chapter is from Becoming 2 with me adding a bit to it.
Chapter Two
-Buffy-
I wake up and for a moment I can't remember where I'm at but I know the bed is softer then the one at home. Someone, probably Jeeves, came in and covered me with an extra blanket and shut the window I left open. I throw on my camouflage pants and a black tank. I shove my feet into tennis shoes and braid my hair quickly. I jog down the stairs without any noise. I learned a long time noise draws attention and the attention in my case is generally not a good thing.
Jeeves is surprised when I snatch some kind of biscuit off the plate in front of him.
"Oh, Buffy, good you're awake. Did you sleep well?" he asks.
Why the fuck does he care? Doesn't matter how I sleep. It's not like it'll stop me from doing my job, but whatever. I shrug. "Yeah, it was fine. Thanks" I say. For some reason I hadn't pointed out that his snoring kept me up a good portion of the night. Off my game I guess.
"Would you like some tea? And please have another scone" Jeeves says with a gesture to the teapot and the plate of biscuits in front of him.
"Sure" I say.
He pours me a cup of tea and gets me my own little plate for the things he calls scones. I pour cream into my tea and add about six lumps of sugar. I notice Jeeves smiling at me. Makes me think he's up to something or else I've fucked something up, offended his English sensibility or something. Whatever, I'm not gonna mention it if he doesn't.
"Oz will be over later. He's rather good with that computer thing. He's going to do some kind of searching on real estate and see perhaps if he can ascertain where the Master might have retreated. Do you need to call your watcher, Richard, and let him know how things went so he won't be concerned?" Jeeves asks.
I snort with laughter. "Concerned why the fuck would he be concerned? Nah, I'll talk to him when I get back to Cleveland."
Jeeves draws his eyebrows together and creases his forehead all up. I notice he's got a very faint scar that bisects his forehead. It's only visible when he wrinkles up his forehead. It makes me wonder where he got it, not that I care but it's unusual in my experience for Watchers to step outside their comfy libraries long enough to get injured. He takes his glasses off and cleans them on his shirt.
"Yes, very well then. I thought perhaps he would be concerned for your welfare" Jeeves says.
"No reason for him to be. I die another gets called and he gets the benefit of a paycheck with no job" I say.
"Buffy, it's not as cut and dried as that" Jeeves says.
"No, it kind of is" I say.
Jeeves stands up and starts to pace. He continues cleaning his glasses, which I'm sure must have been clean a while ago.
"Your theory is correct. When you die another slayer will be called, but it's just not that simple. We're talking about your life" Jeeves says.
"Yeah and it's expendable. I'm a soldier, Jeeves, warrior against the evil and all that shit. Soldiers die" I say.
Jeeves replaces his glasses and smile sadly at me. "That doesn't mean we don't mourn their passing."
-Angel-
i "Buffy, what's going on? Where are we? I-I don't remember" I say softly. My voice is filled with confusion and pain.
"Angel?" Buffy says.
"You're hurt" I say noticing the cut on her arm.
I put my arms around her and hold her close. I bury my nose in her hair, taking deep breathes of her. She smells confused and hurt and afraid. I don't know why she's all of these things. I can't remember.
"Oh Buffy...God. I-I feel like I haven't seen you in months. Oh, my God, everything's so muddled. I-"I stop and hold her closer, tighter, trying to make everything okay the only way I know how.
"Oh," I say and kiss her on the shoulder "oh, Buffy."
She starts crying. I know because I smell it. She buries her head in my shoulder and lets the tears soak my black, silk shirt. I can hear a rumbling behind me but I don't want to let her go to find out what it is. She pulls back from a little bit and looks up into my face. Her eyes are painted with pain and tears.
"What's happening?" I ask, growing more confused by the moment.
"Shhh, don't worry about it" she says.
Buffy brushes her fingers across my lips and my cheek. My heart soars at her touch and I can't figure out why there's all the confusion and the pain and the tears. She's touching me what could possibly be wrong? She lays her hand on my cheek and kisses me so softly. I can taste the tears on her lips. I deepen the kiss, making it more passionate, filling it with want and need and desire, replacing all the pain, all the confusion. Buffy breaks off the kiss and looks deeply into my eyes.
"I love you" she whispers.
"I love you" I respond.
"Close your eyes" she whispers and her voice cracks just a little.
She nods at me slightly, reassuring me and I close my eyes, trusting in her completely. She kisses me again and it tastes like goodbye and that's confusing too. This isn't goodbye this is hello again, this is forever, this is always.
And then the pain slices through me. It consumes my body and my eyes fly open. I gasp for breathe and watch as Buffy backs away slowly. I look down and there's a sword stuck in my gut. I look back up at Buffy for answers but there are none. She's crying and backing further away with every second. I hold my hand out to her, reaching for my salvation, the only salvation I've ever had.
"Buffy," /i
And I wake up screaming her name.
I sit up shaky and covered in a cold sweat. I rub at my abdomen, the place where the sword in the dream went through. I even look down, searching for a mark of any kind, expecting to see the sword still protruding.
"Just a dream" I say to the silence of my apartment. Somehow I know it wasn't though. It was almost like memory except I think I'd remember Buffy sticking a sword through me and sending me into a portal to somewhere. I think I'd remember Buffy kissing me and I think I'd remember Buffy loving me. I know I'd remember loving Buffy, all my existence I'd remember loving Buffy. I get up from my 'bed' on the rug and wander into the bathroom. It's probably a little excessive to take another shower but it's a luxury I haven't really indulged in for a very long time so I blast the hot water on and take another long shower.
I dress in a pair of black slacks and a white button down shirt. I indulge in another luxury, or at least it seems like one after the past couple of years, fresh blood two days in a row. I drink my fill and it's odd that I'm not hungry. I spend the rest of the day cleaning up the apartment, changing bed sheets, which might take me a while to get comfortable sleeping in again. I seem to remember it did the first time too.
By the time I'm finished it's nearly dusk. I pace in my apartment a little while longer just waiting until its safe to go outside. I'd almost forgotten about playing this game, waiting and somehow the waiting grows longer when I'm anxious to be out there instead of cooped up.
Finally the sun slips below the horizon. I grab a mid length black leather jacket from the closet and toss it over my clothes and slip into the night. My first stop is the morgue. I know Buffy mentioned cleaning it out last night. If she's really walking into a nest I want to be sure she's got some backup, although she might not thank me for it in the end.
On the way to the morgue I can't help but think of my dream again. That place just below my rib cage still aches and it's not from anything Willow ever did to me. It's a deeper ache, bone deep, soul deep. I can hear a scuffle going on inside the morgue as I approach so I pick up the pace. She left the door open, or maybe one of the vamps did the shatter job on the glass. I pause at the door of the main autopsy room and she literally stops me in my tracks. She's gorgeous to watch. She's all fluid grace and power. She braces her hands on the edge of a steel autopsy table and kicks her legs up, twisting in the air as she does. She hits two of the vamps under the chin, knocking them back. She snatches a nasty looking cleaver of some sort up and tosses it at the first vamp, the one that stumbled against the wall. The cleaver has deadly aim, slicing through the vamp's neck and sticking in the wall. The new vamp is dust before he can utter a sound.
That seems to scare the second vamp because he decides fleeing might be an option. I catch him at the door and toss him back into the room. He lands on his back on the table where Buffy is still standing. She whips a stake from behind her back and shoves it through the vamp's heart. The vamp leaves a fine layer dust all over the table.
"Thanks" she says.
I nod. "I'm glad I could help."
"Yeah, so what are you doing here? Don't you have people to eat, a Master to find and grovel too?" She asks. Her voice is hard and cynical again. It seems like every bit of head way I made with her last night is gone.
"Buffy, I don't feed off people anymore and I was never at the Master's by choice. I'm not one of his vampires anymore" I say.
"Anymore? But you were" she says. She jumps up on top of the morgue table and sits there staring at me, swinging her legs and waiting for an answer.
I sigh. "A long time ago, I was. I'm two hundred and forty three years old, Buffy. That's a lot of history. I've done a lot of things I regret but that's the point now, I regret them."
"Yeah kind of like Jeeves is gonna regret the hell out of not incinerating the entire factory when I tell him I dusted six vamps in the morgue" she says.
Six, she took on six by herself. Worry crashes over me and I start looking for wounds, any sign that she's hurt.
"Are you okay?" I ask.
She shrugs. "One of them got a hold of knife. There's a cut on my shoulder blade but I can't see it. I'm pretty sure it's not going to kill me," she says.
I swallow my worry and fear. It's a thick knot in my stomach. "Can I see?" I ask. She shrugs again. "Sure, just remember it doesn't impair my staking ability in case you get any ideas being so close to my neck."
I sigh and nod. I deserve it I know but that doesn't mean I like hearing it, especially from her. "I've already eaten tonight, pig's blood from the butcher," I say.
I walk over to her, careful to stay out of reach, not because I'm worried about her. If she stakes me, well after the dream I'm not so sure it's not supposed to happen that way. I stay out of reach because I don't want to make her uncomfortable.
Once I get behind her I creep closer, slowly and I know it's not just because I don't want to make her feel uncomfortable. In part it is because I'm afraid of the way touching her will make me feel. If being in the same vicinity can make me feel almost alive, what's actually touching her skin going to do? I'm about to find out and I wonder when the walls in here started closing in. I reach out a hand and I'm trembling. She's got a long 5 inch gash that goes diagonally across her shoulder blade. I move aside the thin strap of her black tank and swallow hard. Her skin is hot to the touch and so silky smooth. I feel like I'm drowning, like I can't catch my breath and I'm having a heart attack, all impossible things for a vampire to feel and yet.
"So is it going to kill me?" She asks.
I clear my throat and snatch my hand back. "No, it could use some antiseptic and a bandage though" I say.
She jumps from the table and dusts her hands over her rear end and I can't help but notice it's a nice rear end.
"Okay then we'll go back to Jeeves'-"
"Giles" I correct her.
"We'll go back the English guy's house and fix up my shoulder and see if the short dude has found anything out" she says.
"His name is Oz" I say.
"What is your obsession with names?" She asks.
I shrug. "It-humanizes people when you know their names and it's respectful to use them" I say.
"Whatever" she says.
In the short time I've known her I realize this is Buffy's way of putting up a wall, keeping that defense high. I can't even see the top it's so high. I don't know how Whistler or the Powers are ever going to fix this but no matter what they do, it's got to be better then it was.
-Buffy-
He's walking at least three feet behind with his head down. It would bother me, make me nervous if it weren't such a submissive position. And that kind of creeps me out. I mean I'm kind of used to being the one in charge. I'm the take charge girl, but I'm not used to people being so damn submissive around me. He's a fucking vampire at least act like you've got some balls for Christ sake.
"Can we drop the whipped puppy routine 'cause if you haven't noticed I'm into staking them not torturing them so you've got no worries around me" I snap.
"Sorry, it kept me alive while I was there" he mumbles and I instantly feel bad for snapping at him which is ridiculous hello vampire not a human being.
"Yeah well you're not in the cage anymore" I say. It's the closest I can come to an apology to him.
"I don't know if I ever thanked you for that" he says.
I can't help but notice that he's cleaned up. He's got on nice clothes and he's taken a shower recently. His hair is still sticking up in that funny 'I just got out of bed and couldn't be bothered to comb my hair' way but then I guess, no reflection he's got an excuse unlike most of the guys in Cleveland. He looks like a regular Joe, okay a really pale, really handsome regular Joe but most people certainly wouldn't point and say vampire. And I so don't need to be thinking about a demon being handsome. I shake my head, trying to get rid of that idea. I draw back my shoulders and wince as it pulls on the cut.
"Are you okay?" He says and I wanna slap him and tell him not to sound so damned concerned. I'm his mortal enemy not his friend.
"I'm fine. I just forgot it was cut. It must be starting to heal because it pulls like its scabbing" I say.
"Hold up a second and I'll look at it again" he says.
I stop and he jogs up behind me. I bow my head and look at the sidewalk focusing on the crack that runs along it. Grass is beginning to grow there. I will myself not to shiver when he touches me. Myself doesn't listen. It surprises me, his touch, I expected it to be colder or harder or something but it's not. His hands are cool, like the air from a fan. His touch is so gentle, so light and I can feel him trembling. I guess being this close to your mortal enemy is terrifying, or at least it should be. Shouldn't it? Only I'm not, terrified that is. My heart is pounding, my breath is hard to draw, like my lungs are squeezed to tight and I feel dizzy almost like I've got a flu bug but none of it is from terror.
"You broke it open again but it's not even bleeding that much this time" he says.
I nod and step away from him. "Thanks let's just get to Giles' and get it patched up" I say.
He doesn't point out that I finally said Jeeves' name right.
"So you staked six vampires in the morgue" Giles says.
"And somehow I told you so doesn't seem enough" I snap.
My bad mood could have something to do with the searing pain Giles is putting me through by repeatedly dabbing alcohol on my shoulder blade. Yes I'm the slayer, yes I handle pain better then regular people that doesn't mean I like it. The bad mood could also have to do with Angel cowering in the corner of the couch like I'm going to start spraying him with holy water. I can't help but notice he never takes his eyes off of me. Paranoid much? I mean how many more times can I stress if I wanted him dead I would have killed him by now.
"You know, Giles I really don't need all this antiseptic and sterilizing and bandaging. I'm the slayer the healing kind of comes naturally" I say.
"Yes well, better safe then sorry" he says.
He smoothes on the last piece of tape and I stand up quickly, shying out of the way. I'm not used to all this worry and attention. It makes me uncomfortable hands touching me and voices lowered in concern. I'm the slayer. I'm in danger that's part of the deal so is dying. I know it's going to happen and I'll be young when it does. It's part of the gig, like I told Giles. I'm a soldier I was made to die. It's my job.
"So, Oz, you find anything that looks like the Master could be hiding out?" I ask.
"Not really. The problem with Sunnydale is there are a lot of abandoned buildings. He could be in any of them. They don't seem real keen on actually buying the real estate and leaving a paper trail" Oz says.
"Those crazy uncooperative vamps" I grumble.
I pace the living room filled with restless energy. That tingling tugging feeling is back and it's driving me a little crazy. I shouldn't still be this keyed up after a fight. I grab my right elbow with my left hand and pull it across my body to pop my shoulder. I feel cool fingers on my arm.
"Buffy, don't you'll break the cut open again" Angel says softly. He snatches his fingers away the moment he says it, as if I burn.
I release my elbow and resume my pacing. I run my fingers through my hair and grumble.
"I gotta get outta here and do something. I'm gonna go crazy with the waiting" I say. I snatch up a couple of stakes and shove them in the back waistband of my pants. I tuck a bottle of holy water in one of my pockets.
"I'll come with you" Angel says.
I start to tell him no, stay with Giles and Oz but it's clear he's uncomfortable around them and while he's not exactly comfortable with me at least I know what he is. I nod and jerk my head toward the door.
"We'll be back in a few hours, Jeeves" I say.
"Giles and yes we'll be here trying to dig up what we can on the Master" Giles says.
We're walking through one of the cemeteries in Sunnydale, there are twelve which surprises me because it's a small town. Cleveland doesn't even have that many. The cemeteries here are prettier, big, old ornate headstones and lots of crypts. Cleveland's cemeteries are more organized, low flat headstones everything laid in neat rows. There's a certain kind of poetry to Sunnydale cemeteries. They look the way cemeteries should.
I toss my stake up into the air and catch it behind my back. Angel trails along behind me. I pause at a big double headstone and sit down on it. Angel sits on the headstone across from me.
"So you're two hundred and forty three years old, how long have you had the soul?" I ask.
He grimaces, as if it's a difficult conversation to have. "A century, give or take a few years" he says.
I nod. "So before you were the Master's pet, what did you do?"
He looks down at his feet. I watch him as he white knuckles the tombstone. "Not much. I hung out in alleys a lot, fed off...well I didn't eat gourmet and before you say it I didn't feed off humans. I haven't, not since the day I got my soul." He casts a quick glance at me and then looks back down to his feet.
"So what changed?" I ask.
He takes a deep breath and I wonder why he bothers. It's not as if he needs to breathe. It doesn't even have any benefits as far as I know. I always thought vampires did the breathing thing to trick humans, make them think their human. I know he's not human so I don't understand the breathing.
"A guy sort of like an immortal saint working for the Powers that be looked me up in New York. He asked me if I wanted to become someone, contribute to society and get out of the existence I was in. It's not like I had a lot of other offers so I got in a car with him" he stops and fidgets. He stands up and paces.
"Where did he take you?" I finally ask, curious to hear more about how a vampire with a soul came to be here of all places.
"If I tell you this, you got to believe me. I-I wouldn't have known except Whistler, the guy, showed me. He said he had something to show me, something that was going to change my life. Something the Powers wanted me to see," Angel says. He glances nervously at me.
I narrow my eyes and touch my hand to the small of my back where the stake is stashed in my waistband. The tingling tugging feeling is giving me some weird vibes now and my stomach flutters with butterflies.
"Drop the cryptic and just tell me" I say.
"I saw you, before you were called. He showed me you. You were sitting on the stairs in front of your school. You had a lollipop and you were talking to your friends. The sun was shining on you. He told me you were going to have it hard, that you could use some help and more then anything in my life I wanted to make things easier for you. Your entire life was about to change and you had no idea" he says.
"You bastard, you fucking stalked me!" I yell and spring up from the tombstone. I launch a roundhouse kick that he ducks. He doesn't get so lucky with the right hook I sling his way. I catch him in the jaw and he stumbles back.
"No, Buffy I swear. I didn't. Whistler told me you were my destiny. I was supposed to help you" Angel says.
"I bet that works for most of fucking air heads out there, gets them right in your bed. Do they let you bite them after you fuck them or do you just drain them? Maybe this whole soul shit is just that, shit all designed to fuck with the slayer, make me weak, easy prey for the Master here" I catch him in the gut with a side kick and he flies through the air landing on his back with a whoof. I straddle him and hold my stake centimeters above his heart.
He shakes his head. "I'm telling the truth. I wouldn't lie to you. If I had wanted to I could have walked in Giles' house last night while you were sleeping and killed you or him." He puts his hands up and looks away submissively. I shove myself off of him and turn my back. I can't kill something that fucking submissive. It'd be like whipping a cowed dog and I like dogs.
He gets to his feet slowly and backs off a little ways. I glance over my shoulder and he's standing slightly hunched in the shadows.
"Where did you get the clothes, the shower?" I ask.
"Whistler, last night after you left he showed up again. He gave me some cash and the keys to my apartment. It had been kept exactly the way I'd left it. He said the Powers were trying to make things right." he says.
"If I was your fucking destiny, what happened?" I ask.
Angel steps out of the shadows toward me just a little bit. "I don't know. After Whistler showed you to me, he brought me here, set me up with the apartment, some cash. He told me to establish contacts, get used to the town. He said you would be here. He said something would happen in Los Angeles and that you and your mother would come here. Rupert Giles was supposed to be your watcher."
I shake my head. "No fucking way. Your friend, I don't know how he knew about me but he sold you some beach side property in Arizona" I say.
"What happened, Buffy?" Angel asks.
-Angel-
My jaw hurts like hell. In all my years, I've never been hit by a slayer. I avoided them. Now I know why. She hits like a two ton wrecking ball. There's blood on the corner of my mouth and I don't want to lick it. I'm afraid she'll see. I don't know why I'm afraid of her seeing, it's not like she doesn't know what I am. She knows I drink blood. I wipe at the corner of my mouth and watch her. I'm careful to wipe the blood off my hand onto my pants but the instinct to lick it off is there lying under the surface.
She's pacing between the headstones. She's all coiled power and strength like a jaguar waiting to pounce. She shakes her head and pulls her thick braid over her shoulder. She pulls the band holding it out and works her fingers through it. Her hair cascades around her shoulders and down her back in golden ripples. In 243 years she is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
"What happened? You want to know what the fuck happened? People died, more vamps died and I got sent to Cleveland. I was never sure if being sent to a Hellmouth was like a Slayer promotion or not. My Dad wasn't around much so I ended up living with the asshat, Richard. Besides in the immortal words of Hank Summers 'Richard is better equipped to deal with what you are'" Buffy says.
She hasn't told me anything personal and yet I ache for her. The pain and bitterness overflows into her every word, her every action and I know that there had to have been a lot of details between now and then that built her armor.
"So you lived with your Dad, not your Mom?" I say, probing for something more personal, some clue that changed my sunshine girl into what she is today.
Buffy laughs bitterly and the sound cracks the night air. "Yeah, after I burned down the gym and did that stint in the mental hospital Mom decided I was just too much juvenile delinquent and that Dad was better equipped to handle me."
My throat closes. They'd put her in a mental hospital. My mind rushes to provide me with visions of my sunshine girl locked into restraints, being pumped full of drugs and being told by oblivious doctors that there is no such thing as vampires or demons. Then once she'd gotten out they'd passed her back and forth between homes like a stray cat.
"Buffy, they shouldn't have..." I trail off. I don't know what to say to her.
"Yeah maybe not but they did. You know Dad never did apologize for the mental hospital after he found out that there were vampires, that I was a slayer. He just handed me over to Richard and agreed I was better off living there. Anyway, fuck it. It doesn't matter" she says.
"Yes it does" I force the words out of my throat.
She shakes her head and turns her back to me. She's trying hard not to cry but I can smell the very faint tinge of salt. She swipes at her eyes and turns back toward me.
"Not to the right people" she says.