'Cookies' - XLV
'When I was younger
I saw my Daddy cry
and curse at the wind,
He broke his own heart and I watched
as he tried to reassemble it,
And my momma swore that she
would never let herself forget,
And that was the day that I promised
I'd never sing of love if it does not exist.
But darling, you are the only exception...'
The Only Exception By Paramore
One month later...
Xander Harris was a man of habit. He observed his daily rituals with a kind of reverence that yielded to very little. Routine made Xander feel secure in an otherwise unpredictable universe and he made no apologies for this, particularly given his association with the supernatural.
Every morning after showering, shaving, and dressing, Xander stirred two sugars into his black coffee and settled down at the breakfast table with a bowl of Captain Crunch to read the paper. The one variable in this equation was the actual newspaper itself, which fluctuated from national to local depending on the day. Mostly Xander leafed through the pages and scanned the pictures, his gaze lingering on the cartoons for a second or so longer than was truly respectable for a man of his age.
However, it had been during one of his rarer moments of sobriety that Xander had actually elected to read The Sunnydale Tribune, and thus had stumbled upon an article that had inexplicably drawn his attention. The caption was bizarre to say the least and as Xander read on he found the hairs on the nape of his neck suddenly standing erect- in his experience a sure sign that something was awry. Xander tore the article from the paper and jammed it into the breast pocket of his jacket. The rest of his day proceeded as normal but the content of the article was never far from Xander's mind. He laid his crew off an hour early and drove the five miles to Revello at speed in the growing dusk.
The houses blurred past the window as he drove, his foot bearing down on the accelerator in a manner that was rather uncharacteristic for him. Anya had often griped about Xander's ability to travel 'slower than her dead grandma', and Xander found his lips curving upward into a slight smile as he recalled the barb. The memory was accompanied by a familiar sting of grief but Xander was finding these days that the pain was beginning to lessen. He was still undecided as to whether he should feel guilty or relieved, and so he chose instead to consider pain as something immeasurable.
As Xander approached the one set of lights that he would encounter on his journey, he eased his foot off the gas. The streets were beginning to grow more crowded despite the impending darkness and, as Xander spotted a little girl clad in a tutu holding the hand of an adult sized lobster, he realised that Halloween had finally happened upon them. As the lights changed to green, Xander's car shot forward like a bullet; his foot pressed the pedal practically flat against the floor.
When he reached the Slayer's home minutes later, Xander took the porch steps in one bound. He rapped smartly on the door frame and awaited an answer whilst bouncing on the balls of his feet.
From the corner of his eye, Xander spotted a lone jack-o-lantern with a gap-toothed grin sitting atop the porch railing. He sneered back at the pumpkin, which had been carved by an expert hand and completed with a lighted candle. Xander had come to despise Halloween in recent years; the once inoffensive holiday that he had believed a product of the US candy companies had almost ended him upon several occasions. As a child Xander would never have believed that he would come to look upon a bucket of free candy and the excuse to teepee the principal's house with suspicion and downright dread. He had intended this year to launch a full boycott that involved sitting in his locked apartment with a crate of beer, a pizza, and an armful of Reese Witherspoon DVDs. It now seemed increasingly unlikely that this plan would come to fruition.
It was Willow who finally flung open the door, a purple conical hat sitting lopsided on her head and a bowl of candy clutched to her chest. Her eager smile somewhat tarnished as she spotted not a group of chubby, ruddy cheeked tots but a rather aggravated Xander, who barely grunted as he pushed his way into the hall.
The rest of the gang, which Xander was irked to note included Spike, were gathered in the Summers' lounge. Giles flipped through some ancient volume written in an undoubtedly dead language whilst chewing thoughtfully on a stick of chocolate caramel. Buffy was curled in the armchair, dressed in sweats and running her hand through Angel's hair as his head rested in her lap. Dawn stretched out across the couch, Spike settled behind her with both hands resting on the now sizeable swell of her stomach. The brazenness of the vampire sickened Xander but he swallowed back his spite and instead dug in his pocket for the article that had been at the forefront of his mind for the majority of the day. Xander slapped the dog-eared piece of paper onto the arm of Buffy's chair.
"Trick or treat," he quipped, straightening up and folding his arms. Buffy blinked in obvious confusion as she scanned the title of the piece.
"Sunnydale- Heart Healthy?" she read, her nose wrinkling. She turned to Xander with her head cocked to one side in question. "You're worried about my cholesterol levels?"
"Just read," Xander replied. Giles peered up from the book that he had been immersed in and affixed Xander with an interested gaze. Buffy's eyes ticked rapidly back and forth across the page before she returned her attention to Xander.
"Ok?" she questioned in a tone that conveyed her lack of comprehension as clearly as the expression on her face.
"Well, don't you think that's at all weird?" Xander pressed, "Aren't you just going 'ooooooh' at the weirdness?"
"Uhm..." Buffy faltered, glancing desperately between Willow and Giles for assistance. Giles cleared his throat and gestured for Xander to pass him the article, which he read at remarkable speed.
"Well," Giles murmured, pushing his glasses further onto the bridge of his nose, "I definitely think this merits some investigation Buffy."
"You do?" Buffy asked incredulously. Xander smirked, triumphant, and nodded his head.
"What's going on?" inquired Dawn as she struggled to push herself into a sitting position. Spike gently grasped her elbow and supported her weight, allowing her to swing her legs around and place her swollen feet onto the floor. Xander noted with faint amusement that the black t-shirt she wore was adorned with the image of a grinning pumpkin, the face of which was stretched out across her rounded stomach. It seemed oddly fitting.
"Not entirely sure," Buffy answered, shrugging in a nonchalant manner that suggested she was at peace with this fact.
"The recent spate of heart attacks that have plagued Sunnydale are baffling top health professionals in the area," Giles intoned, pausing to ensure that rapt attention was his. "Within less than several months, twenty-five of Sunnydale's residents have fallen victim to unexpected and seemingly unexplainable coronary arrest. However, over three-quarters of the deceased were aged between 15-30 years... "
"Not exactly surprising," Spike interjected, his eyes twinkling, "have you seen the size of your average UC Sunnydale student? All that beer and pizza takes it toll, you know."
"And had no previous history of heart disease, or higher than average cholesterol levels," Giles finished, glaring rather pointedly at Spike.
"Ok, so tragic and slightly strange," Dawn noted, "but what exactly does this have to do with the Slayer?"
"Yeah, the extent of my heart experience really begins and ends with shoving a stake through them," Buffy said, giggling at her own attempt at wit. Both Xander and Giles rolled their eyes before the latter returned his attention to the article still in hand.
"By bizarre coincidence, each victim has been discovered in some public area of Sunnydale mere hours after having been reported missing by concerned loved ones. Despite this fact, there have been no known eye witnesses in any of the twenty-five cases. Authorities have ruled out foul play since post-mortem examinations have revealed no other signs of trauma to the bodies of the deceased. Those among the dead include Sunnydale High student Jessica Grove, 16; kindergarten teacher Julie Frances, 26; and Sunnydale Mall night-guard Duke Farmer, 58."
Angel arched an eyebrow at the mention of the name of his former work colleague; a crotchety man reaching retirement age who had been discovered in the mall parking lot underneath his own Chevy truck. The story was widespread now but nothing about it had struck Angel as particularly out of the ordinary. Duke had made no secret of his frequent visits to The Burger Barn and, considering the man's eating habits, Angel would have been surprised had he not been a candidate for a heart attack.
"So you think... something is scaring these people to death?" Buffy pressed, accepting the article that Giles offered her. "Is that even possible?"
"Well, I'm not entirely certain myself to be honest," Giles admitted with a shrug, "but there is definitely something more to this story than meets the eye. Buffy, I propose that you step up patrol and..."
"But not tonight," Willow hurriedly interjected, shooting Giles a glare. The former Watcher stared back at the witch for several seconds before understanding eventually dawned upon him.
"Oh, erm, yes... quite," Giles stammered, flashing Buffy a smile, "Halloween is characteristically..."
"My busiest night of the year," Buffy drawled, rolling her eyes and sighing laboriously as she climbed to her feet with little enthusiasm. "If these people are dying because of something supernatural then I should be out there."
"Just not tonight," Angel repeated. Willow and Dawn nodded their simultaneous agreement whilst both Xander and Spike merely appeared more bored than usual.
"Why not?" asked Buffy. Her suspicion was mounting with each slyly exchanged glance that passed between her friends.
"Because Angel's taking you to dinner," said Dawn, arching an eyebrow at Angel who nodded. "He booked the table weeks ago. It was supposed to be a surprise... you know, big fancy romantic date on your quietest night of the year."
"Really?" A degree of excitement had crept into Buffy's tone now and she smiled warmly at Angel.
"And Dawnie and I are helping you get dressed," Willow enthused, grabbing Buffy by the hand and dragging her towards the staircase. Dawn huffed as she pushed herself with considerable effort to her feet and began to follow, leaving Spike alone to flip through a copy of 'The Bumper Baby Naming Book'.
"But what about the article? This isn't the time to be dining out," called Xander, outrage plainly written across his face. "People are dead... should you happen to care."
Dawn waved a dismissive hand over her shoulder and continued to waddle after the two women, who could already be heard cackling over some private joke from the master bedroom.
"They'll still be dead tomorrow, Xand," Dawn replied without turning, her smile impish as she imagined the look of fury that Xander was now doubtlessly wearing. "We'll get right on it then."
"You... you're just..." faltered Xander, his eyes wide as he turned to regard Giles, "you're just going to let them..."
"I agree that this matter perhaps requires Buffy's expertise, but tonight..." Giles left his sentence unfinished and instead turned his gaze upon Angel, who was wearing a smile that Xander did not wholly like the look of.
Without so much as glancing in Xander's direction, Angel finished softly, "Tonight we have more important places to be."
x-x-x
Buffy peered out of the back window of the cab that Giles had insisted on ordering for the couple, despite both their protests that they would not be drinking that evening. Angel's directions to the driver had been hushed and deliberately secretive, and in the consuming darkness Buffy could be sure of little other than the fact that they had been driving now for at least twenty minutes. The timing alone indicated to Buffy that wherever they were going was not within Sunnydale's limits. To add to this, she could think of few venues in town that required the level of attire that she and Angel both currently sported.
At first, Buffy had been uncertain about the dress Willow had presented her with. She had produced the garment with a flourish, declaring that she had bought it only weeks ago for a college ball that she now could not attend for some vague reason. The dress was stunning by all accounts; a dark cyan in colour with a plunging neckline and a gauzy skirt that floated to the floor. A thick satin band was positioned just beneath the bust line and would undoubtedly accentuate whatever assets the wearer may possess. The dress was amazing by definition but certainly expensive and so, as any good friend would, Buffy resisted wholeheartedly. Willow had been unwaveringly firm on the matter, and within ten minutes Buffy was admiring her own reflection in the mirror as Dawn worked at fastening the many tiny buttons that adorned the back of the dress. After Willow had completed her makeup and finished pinning her hair into cascade of loose curls Buffy had to admit that, although she felt somewhat overdressed, the overall effect was impressive.
Angel was dressed to match in a black three piece suit and navy blue tie that he appeared uncomfortable in to say the least. Buffy, however, was highly appreciative of his ensemble and not only for the fact that it made her feel less conspicuous.
The couple sat in silence in the back of the cab, the air between them tense although Buffy had no ready explanation as to why. Every so often, Angel would shoot an almost nervous glance out of the side window and begin wiping his hands frantically down the sides of his pants legs. Buffy smiled reassuringly at her fiancé whenever their gazes met, which Angel seemed to be almost deliberately avoiding.
When the cab finally shuddered to a halt, Angel swallowed hard and his hand shot out almost impulsively to grip the door handle. After paying the driver with a few muttered words of thanks, Angel held the door open for Buffy, who clambered out of the cab with some difficulty as the hem of her dress beneath her satin shoes threatened to send her tumbling onto the sidewalk.
Buffy paused to rearrange her dress before peering up at her surroundings with an eager smile spread across her face. Her excitement soon faded as she took in the gates of Restfield Cemetery, one of Sunnydale's most popular burial grounds and her most regular slaying haunt.
"We're at the graveyard," Buffy stated, her lips twisted into a tight smile. "Why are we at the graveyard?"
Angel offered Buffy his arm, smiling as she accepted and then used her free hand to lift the skirt of her dress clear from the ground.
"You'll see," was all that Angel conceded as he led Buffy through the wrought iron gates and towards the chapel that was tucked away just out of sight.
x-x-x
Angel pushed open the heavy double doors of the chapel with one arm and continued to steer Buffy with the other. She stepped inside the modest building, her eyes narrowing in suspicion as she turned to face Angel.
"What exactly are we doing here?" demanded Buffy, her foot tapping against the stone floor.
"See for yourself," Angel answered, his responding smile tight and belaying his anxiety. Buffy turned towards the front of the chapel, her heart leaping into her mouth as she spotted her friends and sister dressed in their finery standing near the alter. As Buffy's eyes locked with Willow's, the witch flashed a brilliant smile and waved. In her hand she clutched a simple posy of cream coloured roses. Buffy swallowed hard.
"Is this what... I mean... are we..." stammered Buffy, her voice suddenly failing. Her hand fluttered to her throat as though the simple touch of her fingers would restore what she seemed to have lost.
"Buffy," Angel began, turning to face her and grasping both of her hands to his chest, "I know we said we would wait until after the baby, but the more that I think of the time we have already wasted, the more I know this is right."
"But..." Buffy attempted, falling silent as Angel laid his index finger gently against her parted lips.
"I don't have much to offer Buffy, I never have- except my heart," Angel whispered, leaning forwards and brushing his lips against Buffy's forehead. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of Angel's skin against her own. Angel continued, his voice assured now and no longer trembling with nerves, "Would you do me the honour of becoming my wife tonight?"
"But Dawn and..." Buffy said, shooting a helpless glance towards her kid sister, who stood at the front of the chapel arm in arm with Spike, looking radiant in a crimson dress.
"Dawn helped me to organise all of this," Angel explained, gesturing to the assembled group at the front of the church and the floral decorations that Buffy suddenly noticed adorning the end of each row of pews. The flowers were a mixture of cream roses and deep blue delphinium, interwoven with care and affixed in place with ribbon.
"You two did this all on your own?" asked Buffy, extending her hand and brushing her fingertips lovingly across Angel's cheek. He leaned into Buffy's touch and then quickly kissed the palm of her hand.
"Willow took care of the legalities and Xander... well, he was pretty much in the dark up until about forty minutes ago," Angel chuckled, grinning wickedly as he glanced at a rather sullen Xander, who was perched on the edge of the first row of benches with his hands rammed into the pockets of his trousers.
"I just don't know, Angel," Buffy murmured, chewing fretfully on her bottom lip as she attempted to ignore the million cells in her body that screamed at her in unison to take Angel's hand and sprint down the aisle.
"Don't we deserve a little happiness, Buffy?" Angel sighed patiently, cupping Buffy's chin in his hands and tilting her face towards his. "You told me once that when you were done becoming whoever it is you wanted to be that you would know. I'm not going to push you into anything that you aren't ready for yet, Buffy... I love you too damn much. If this isn't what you want right now then that's ok. I can wait a little longer."
"Really, Angel?" Buffy asked softly, her eyes once again drinking in all that Angel had arranged on her behalf.
The intensity of Angel's gaze was almost shocking as he peered down at Buffy with a sad half smile.
"Really," was his only reply.
Buffy's gaze dropped to her shoes and, as she watched the tiny silver sequins glitter in the candlelight, she felt her own heartbeat accelerate against her will. Once upon a time, Buffy had dreamed of nothing but her wedding day. The setting and the little things such as her dress and whether or not she would wear a veil were ever changing and always fun to see, but one detail had remained the same. Buffy had watched a thousand times as Angel turned with a smile to the sight of her walking towards him with one purpose in mind. Sometimes they were on sandy beach at sunset, and sometimes they were in a fragrant garden during the height of summer, but Buffy had always known that should this day ever truly come, the back alley behind the Bronze would suffice just so long as that one little detail remained unchanged. A quiet little chapel in the heart of the town that had thrown them together would do Buffy just fine.
"I'm cookies," she whispered, tears beginning to pool at the corners of her eyes as she crushed her body against Angel's. For a moment, he blinked in confusion, hardly daring to believe that he had heard her correctly.
"Does this mean...?" he managed to choke out, a combination of terror and joy colouring his features. Buffy simply nodded, not trusting her own voice now that the tears had begun to descend her cheeks, washing away the mascara that Dawn had promised faithfully was waterproof.
With a smile on his lips that brought renewed beauty to his features, Angel wrapped his arm around Buffy's waist and leaned closer in order to whisper in her ear. His lips and warm breath brushed against Buffy's lobe and a shiver coursed through her body.
"Tugaim mo chroi duit go deo... Let's get married, my love."
A. N. - "Tugaim mo chroi duit go dea" = I give my heart to you forever