ONCE MORE PART FIVE
"You can sleep on the couch, here. We haven't really graduated to the whole two-bedroomer, seeing as how Oz isn't even around a lot of the time." Willow pulled out a sheet from the closet and flung it on the soft striped sofa for Buffy. "Unpack, do whatever, I have to make a quick phone call."
"O-Okay." Buffy had been silent ever since she and Willow had left the school. Willow could understand this, as long as Buffy was deep in thought about her plans for that night. If there was one thing Buffy and Willow realized during the hour of reading they'd spent, it was that from the moment the sun came down all the evildoers and bloodsuckers within an hour's drive would be kicking and screaming to have a chance at handing Spike the Slayer's head on a platter. It scared Willow greatly; it brought Buffy to shuddering silence.
Willow walked into her bedroom and quietly shut the door, picking up her cordless. If the Slayer really was going to wipe the floor with Spike at 6:30, Willow had to make sure the Bronze's patroness wouldn't wipe the floor with her first. Remember that Buffy might be listening, she told herself, dialing with deliberate speed.
"Hello?" Good, she was home.
"Hi, Cordy."
"Oh, hi, Willow! How are you?"
"I guess you know what I'm calling about." The excitement washed out of both their voices. "Buffy came to see me today."
"You too!" Cordelia took a deep breath, pausing for a second. "Ha! Should have known. Willow, I know you know this, but aside from Xander, you're my best friend. That means a lot to me. And you wouldn't be if it wasn't for all you've done to me ... and, and all she's done to me."
This wasn't going to be easy, Willow knew. But her heart brightened a bit; Cordelia hadn't called her husband Xander since, well, since Buffy left Sunnydale. "I know. I understand."
"Do you?" Her voice heightened in confrontation. "Do you know how much it hurt?"
"Yes. As much as it hurt me to see her go. Both of you know me, Cordelia, better than anyone. I would never sacrifice your friendship for anything, ever. But I can't act like I don't love her. I did, like a sister. And I think I still do, in spite of it."
The other end was quiet. Willow tried to picture her friend's tear-stained face. Softly: "Why?"
"Cordy, we need her! As much as you don't want to accept it, we can't handle this on our own."
"What is she going to do? Waltz in and save the day?" Cordelia made a scoffing noise.
"Do you have any better ideas?" Did she think she could slay the vampires all by herself? Willow couldn't help getting exasperated, but when Cordelia's ego was wounded ... "Something very bad is on the horizon, for all of us." She resolved to add the kicker, hoping Buffy had been truthful. "Besides, he has Angel."
"What? NO! Are you sure?" It had worked.
"Positive. Can you accept this now? I mean, not just from her, but from me, too."
"My God. Angel ..." Willow bit her lip. How could this have happened again? Just when everyone seemed to have forgotten.
"Cordelia! Talk to me!"
She was due for a diatribe, and Willow got one. "What do you want me to say? Do I have a choice? I know she's strong, and I know you mean well, Willow, but I haven't forgotten what she did to me and I certainly can't forgive. I trusted her, and I trusted him, and I'm lucky to be in the place I am now after what happened. Can't you see, Willow, that if there's a fight my life will be ruined? And I know I have to do it."
How could she have been so callous? Did Cordelia forget what other people felt? Willow found herself holding back old tears. "Cordelia, Xander loves you. No one else." There was a pregnant pause, and both women swallowed hard. "Trust me."
She felt her former enemy soften up in tone and voice. She had to accept the truth eventually. The past is the past, Willow knew that better than anyone. "I'm sorry, Willow. It's just that I ... get a little jealous. A lot."
"Hey," Willow joked, trying to break through the void between them that day. "At least you have legal grounds to possess him. I just wanted to." She gave a short laugh, harsh and somewhat telling. "Cordy, Buffy was wrong. You gotta talk to her."
"I can't --"
"Please!" Willow cried, realizing too late that she'd done it too loud. "Please, to save all of us, work together. It's Spike, Cordy, he's back and he could take us for all we have. We do need her, and right now she needs us too."
"I don't know." But her resolve was cracking.
"Put aside your pettiness," Willow implored, assuming her mantle of mediator. It had always been like that with them. "That was years ago. Do it for me! Help her!"
There was another pause, then a prolonged sigh. "For you, Willow," she said wearily.
"Six-thirty at the Bronze. They'll be there. We have to be ready."
"Thank you."
"Thank me later," answered Willow, and with Cordelia's slight gasp of pain she hung up the phone. Turning to the door, she cried, "Buffy! I'm off, we can talk about the plan now! Buffy?"
There was no answer, as the Slayer slowly backed up on lightest toes from the kitchen phone, clicking it down noiselessly. She held the same look of murder in her eyes, the same sharpened stake. Buffy had death on the brain: death of love, death of trust, death of her friends. She wouldn't let it happen. At twenty-five years old, it was time to erase her mistakes.