39 Miss Edith Tea Parties to Go…
Word tended to
travel fast in Sunnydale High.
When word first
spread about the availability of Buffy Summers, most of the male population of
the high school vied for her attention. (She’s hot, she’s sexy, and you
know she already has experience, dating that older man and all.)
That was weeks ago.
Now, they hoped she
didn’t talk to them. (Her ex is a freak, always there, always stalking
her…and everyone else around her.)
Rumors spread about
several deaths; one most recently where the boy’s body was found completely
drained and laid out as something of a ‘gift’ for the blonde. There was
another rumor associated with bodies found laid out for Buffy Summers, but it
was from a fairly unreliable source, despite her popularity. Harmony, however,
insisted that there was writing on the floor of the library and that it was the
blood of the Ben, last seen in the company of one Buffy Anne Summers.
(Had
we but world enough and time, then this coyness, lady, were no crime.)
Buffy sat through a
history lecture, trying to focus on what the teacher was saying when all her
mind thought of was Angelus. Their most recent meeting, the feelings he evoked,
and the ones she refused to acknowledge. World War II meant nothing to her,
except that she wondered where Angel was during that time. Angel thoughts lead
to Angelus thoughts, which lead to nothing good.
(Let
me clear it up for you, lover. You’re mine and I protect what’s mine. I want
you, and I will have you,
don’t ever think otherwise.)
‘Angel,’ she thought with a sigh that carried through the room in a melancholy
echo that touched even the hardest of hearts. They didn’t really know or
understand what happened to the blonde, people went through breakups every
day…but even they realized that this wasn’t your ordinary breakup, and that
there were other things going on in the girl’s…in the woman’s life.
Many in the school
knew she was something of a protector; a vigilante who saved them from the weird
things that went on in their tiny town. The things no one talked about. That, in
large part, was the reason so many worried for her, sympathized for her…and
hoped like hell they never crossed her ex’s radar.
‘I
miss you, oh, God, do I miss you. And I’m so sorry I did this, it’s all my
fault. You deserved better than me, and this is what happened. God, I’m sorry,
you should have run as far from me as you could have, it’s my fault, all my
fault…’
Unwanted, those
tears started again. Buffy thought she cried them all, thought that the only
thing left inside her was emptiness (my
fault) and bleak hopelessness. Yet the tears still came, still flowed from
her as if that outlet for her grief could actually do some good. It couldn’t
and Buffy was all too mindful of that. Tears did nothing but waste time she
could use for hunting the man (demon)
responsible (she was responsible) for
the deaths that currently plagued Sunnydale.
(He’s
only making it easier, I know what I have to do.)
(Kill
him.)
But she couldn’t,
it’d been weeks and she still couldn’t, and Buffy wasn’t sure she’d ever
be able to; if the death of Jenny Calendar wasn’t enough, the censured looks
Giles and Willow gave her, the open hostility from Xander, the increased taunts (gifts,
affection, safety) from Angelus couldn’t do it, nothing could.
Knowing what she
had to do and doing it were two completely different things.
Ignoring the stares
from her fellow students and the softly asked, “Are you okay, Miss Summers?”
from the teacher, Buffy gathered her things and left the classroom, not caring
what she was missing, or that the period started only ten minutes ago.
Racing out into the
deserted hallway, Buffy automatically headed towards the library. It was her
safe haven, where Giles was, where she knew she was loved and safe. Abruptly
stopping, Buffy reevaluated that; Angelus violated her safe haven, he placed
that poor boy there, writing that poem in poor Ben’s blood.
(‘Had
we but world enough and time, then this coyness, lady, were no crime.’)
For her, all for
her; Giles was right those many weeks ago when this all started. Angelus was
coming after her and he wasn’t letting up until he had her.
Angelus was leaving her no one but him to turn to, no
sanctuary from the turmoil and killing but within him. Unless she found the will
somehow to kill the man she loved, this would continue until Angelus was as he
declared: Her everything. What frightened her the most was that some days, in
the darkest loneliest portion of the night, what he longed for, threatened
her with, all but demanded…didn’t
seem so wrong.
No, the library was no longer her safe haven, no longer
that one place she couldn’t be touched in.
Spinning on her
heel, ignoring the balcony where she and Angelus had their confrontation almost
two weeks ago (love is forever), Buffy
walked out of the school and off campus. She didn’t care what Snyder did to
her, what he said to her mother, how he threatened her with expulsion. She
didn’t care.
All Buffy knew was
overwhelming depression, the constant presence of Angelus, and the knowledge
that she failed. She didn’t have room in her life to care for anything else.
Not her slaying, the hopelessness that came with not saving everyone weighed
heavily on her shoulders. She didn’t care that every weakness she succumbed to
was another victory for Angelus; wearing the jewelry he gave her, gazing at the
pictures, smelling the flowers.
Didn’t care that
with every weakness she refused to admit to, but surrendered to nonetheless, she
was falling further and further into Angelus’ carefully laid web.
Angelus, however,
did.
And he reveled in
it, gloating over it every chance he got. All too perfect. He watched her from
the shadows of the high school, enjoying every moment of her suffering. Enjoying
it so much that he stalked her throughout the days now, not only the nights. His
ultimate obsession. Everything he’d planned was going his way; Buffy was
isolated from her friends, she was cut off from those who could help her in any
way, those selfsame friends blaming her for everything Angelus did and anything
that they thought he did.
Her tears streaked
her face as she rushed out into the sunlight, taking deep breaths of the late
spring air. Her beautiful scent was cloaked in sadness, hopelessness, despair.
Tears made her look even more beautiful than normal, and the anguished sob that
escaped her throat made him want to risk the threatening rays of the sunlight,
take her in his arms, and savor it.
He smiled from the
shadows, sinking further backwards when she turned in his direction as if
knowing he was there.
“Soon, my love”
he whispered and smirked again when her breath caught as if she did, indeed,
hear him.
“Angel,” she whispered, turning to her right. Her
eyes searched the shadows with dread and a sick longing she couldn’t
quite suppress.
Angelus couldn’t
have been in a better mood as he dropped through the manhole and into the sewer.
Granted, he hated the sewers, but he wouldn’t be needing them soon. Nope, all
his plans were coming together nicely. Buffy was his, it was only a matter of
time.
He’d given her
everything so far, made his claim of her clear to her, to everyone around her,
and to the demon community. Jewelry to adorn her body, the body only he was ever
going to see, he’d given her gifts, roses, sketches, the lives of her friends
that he had major plans for. He’d killed for her, showing her who the Alpha
was, who ruled the Hellmouth, who was Lord and Master. Who wanted her as his
Queen.
He’d proven his
love for her, and it was simply a matter of time before she acknowledged it.
Normally Angelus
wasn’t a patient man, he took what he wanted when he wanted it. There was no
need for anything else, he was strong enough to do so, and so he did. Things
were different with Buffy, they had to be. She was unparalleled anywhere in his
experience, a masterpiece of his making, surpassing even his beautiful creation,
Drusilla.
And now, he
couldn’t wait to see his slayer in hell, because in hell, he was the only one
she’d have.
~~~~~~~~~~
Giles never told anyone about the note.
He hadn’t needed
it to identify Jenny’s killer, but Angelus, being who he was, left a clue
anyway. Truthfully, Giles wasn’t sure if he would have gone after Angelus had
the vampire not left the note, but it was all a moot point, because the
self-righteous bastard just had to twist the pain that little bit more.
And Giles was
scared for Buffy.
‘This is what happens when you interfere Ripper; you put my lover out of reach, so I took yours from you. I will have mine again, though. Can you say the same? Stay out of it, and you won’t lose anyone else. Buffy is mine; you know it, I know it, and most importantly, she knows it.
That was Giles’ first indication that maybe there was
something more to Angelus’ courtship than met the eye, despite the tomes of
Watcher Diaries on the vampire that suggested he was deviating from his usual
pattern. And something more was going on that Buffy wasn’t letting on
about. He knew his slayer was slipping into a deep depression, but was unsure
how to reach her, how to pull her out of it, how to help her through it. He
didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t sound accusatory, and he didn’t know
what to say that would express how much he knew of the situation.
The entire situation was an abomination for them all; he
had seen the devastation in her eyes, and the heartbreak on her face, when he
had had to pull her off Jenny the day after Angelus had changed...his
dearest Jenny.... He suspected on some level Buffy blamed Jenny, and even
himself, for what happened to Angel. Perhaps, perhaps she even felt the
demon’s revenge had been justly deserved, though Giles doubted Buffy would
ever say so verbally, solely out of loyalty to him.
Oh God, he’d failed her on so many levels...
Guilt settled on Giles’ own shoulders, the knowledge that
he had the information that could have helped Buffy in the beginning stages of
this little game of…romance. He held all the Watcher’s Journals, all the
information they had on Angel – pre-soul – and yet he’d only let Buffy
know a tiny bit of that. Giles had accepted Angel into their circle, knowing who
and what he was, and used him when it was advantages to them. He’d never
once demurred, not as long as the vampire was making himself useful in
assisting Buffy and himself.
God his own hypocrisy sickened him. Angel had
even saved Jenny from a situation of Giles’ own lamentable stupidity but had
he thanked Angel? No. In his complacency and blind arrogance, Giles had accepted
it as his due, and now the demon was making sure, in no uncertain terms, that
Giles understood Angelus was not Angel. No, the repentant supplicant for his
Slayer’s affections was no more; in his place was another animal all together.
One who would destroy anyone and anything standing between him and his ultimate
obsession.
Even if Buffy hadn’t wanted to know, Giles sighed as he
poured himself a glass of Scotch and tried not to think of his renovated
bedroom, he should have told her just who and what Angelus was and what he was
capable of.
The scent of fresh
paint still lingered in the air, the new mattress was being delivered tomorrow,
and still Giles couldn’t bring himself to climb those steps once again.
Visions kept pounding into his mind: Jenny alive and laughing at him and his
‘fuddy-duddy’ ways, Angelus breaking her neck. Buffy crying on his shoulder
as she held him back from attacking Angelus, (was
it for Giles own good or because she didn’t want him to kill Angelus?) and
how she vowed to him that she would kill the demon.
It’d been weeks
and Giles wasn’t sure his slayer could do that. Was it fair to ask her? No,
but Angelus needed to die. Angel wasn’t coming back; there was no way that
could happen, despite what Jenny may have hinted at. (Curse him again. No, I can’t. I don’t want to say anything, but I
think I may have a plan.) The soul could not reenter the body, and Angelus
was sure to put up a fight, anyway.
And all the while
Buffy fell into a deeper depression, withdrawing from friends and family,
slipping further in her school work (this
is why slayers work alone) and farther away from any help he should be
giving her had he known how. But he didn’t, he didn’t know what to say or
how to comfort her when he, himself, was in need of such comfort.
So he remained silent, and let Buffy go on, failing her yet
anew. Letting her sink deeper and deeper into depression and confusion, and
falling further and further from his
help.
While Rupert Giles
thought more and more about vengeance against the demon who did this,
consequences to his slayer be damned. Giles held the magickal power within him
to do something, all he had to do was figure out exactly what that something
was.
And Ripper grinned
in anticipation.
And Drusilla
grinned in anticipation.
~~~~~~~~~~
“Still living in denial, are you?”
Oz paused in
packing up his equipment, but didn’t acknowledge the speaker. He didn’t want
to, but more he didn’t need to. Angelus would talk no matter what Oz said, and
frankly, the musician didn’t have an answer for the vampire.
“Thinking you can
live your life as if nothing’s changed, as if you haven’t become this
all-powerful creature that caters to no one.” Angelus stepped out of the
shadows and stood in the spotlight of a streetlamp. He needed to keep this short
for two reasons. One was that the vampire still had his nightly Buffy-watch to
do, and the second was that he didn’t want to give Oz enough time to come up
with a response.
It was better for
Angelus’ plans if the werewolf had time to think on the vampire’s words of
wisdom, wondering what he could have said, should have said, while the seeds
took root and blossomed.
And still Oz said
nothing, calmly packing his van with their sound stuff and hoping the rest of
the band didn’t return from gathering the rest of their equipment anytime
soon.
“It’s eating
inside you,” Angelus said with a smile, his whispered taunt carrying clearly
across the space separating them. “Clawing its need for release, demanding to
be let out. Can you feel it? Can you feel the power it promises? I can help
you,” Angelus added as both vampire and wolf’s advanced hearing picked up on
the remaining band members’ return.
“I can help you
control it, I can help you learn from it and be it, to the point where the
mindlessness that is the wolf inside becomes more. Until it becomes all, and you
can shift at will.” Angelus backed into the shadows again, his whispered,
“Think about it,” carrying only towards his intended victim.
And still Oz said
nothing, but his mind was frantic to ignore what the vampire said. To control
the wolf within, to have mastery over the beast that even now, far from the full
moon cycle, clawed in demand for release.
He was tempted.
He was more than
tempted, and yet Oz fought it. He wasn’t going to give into the monster who
stalked his friends, his woman. He wasn’t going to be tempted by the seductive
words that Angelus spouted, no matter how attractive they were.
“I’m not
tempted,” he muttered as Devon walked up to the van. “I’m not.”
“Not what,
man?” Devon asked, wondering why his friend was suddenly talking to himself.
For a man who didn’t say much in the first place, he sure was saying a lot of
words to no one but himself.
“Nothing,” Oz
dismissed Devon’s questions with a shrug. “It’s nothing.”
~~~~~~~~~~
35 Miss Edith Tea Parties To Go…
“Think she’ll
go?” Cordelia asked doubtfully.
“Well, no,”
Willow answered, “But she needs to get out! I mean, have you seen her
recently?”
“Well, yeah,”
the cheerleader exclaimed as the two walked towards the library after school.
“She’s totally neglecting her appearance, her clothes are practically
hanging off her body, she’s way too skinny to the point of anorexia, and I so
don’t want to spend another night in the hospital because of her.”
“Uh, right,”
Willow mumbled. “So does this mean you’ll help me convince her?”
“Convince who?”
Buffy asked from her customary seat at the library tale. She was pale and
shaking, and hated that she was sitting in the library. She hated the library,
hated the smell and the sight, and that all she could think of was not that poor
boy (had we but world enough and time,
then this coyness lady were no crime) but Angelus. Always Angelus.
More and more no matter how she fought it, Buffy knew was giving him what he wanted, regardless of her own wants. Her thoughts about him consumed everything.
The only reason she
was in the library, was because Giles still considered it his haven, and he wanted to talk with her. It was lucky for them
that no one really did use the library, because the one study table in the room
was usually occupied by Buffy.
“You,” Willow
said with a nervous glance at her companion. “We want you to come out with us
to the basketball game tonight.”
“Yeah, Buffy,”
Cordelia said as she eyed the slayer with a critical look. “You so need to get
out. Relax a little before you break and take us all with you.”
Willow shot another
nervous look at Buffy before silencing Cordelia – why had she asked for the
brunette’s help again? – by stepping in front of her. “What she means,”
Willow amended, “Is that you need to relax for a night.” Seeing the about to
protest look Buffy gave her, Willow smiled in her chipper way.
“It’s the last
game of the playoffs, Buffy,” she said, “And you know Sunnydale needs all
the support they can get. Just come out, it’ll be right here at the gym, spend
an hour or two, and then you can go patrol, okay? Please?”
Cordelia felt the
jab to her ribs, and smiled again at her cue. “Yeah, Buffy, come out with us.
This way you can protect us while we’re here.”
Willow hadn’t
thought of that, and gave the cheerleader a considering look. Actually, that was
a really good reason…
“We’ll see,”
Buffy agreed, and that was good enough for her friends. They’d work on her
more, later.
Willow was worried
for her friend. Buffy rarely went out anymore, she never socialized with anyone,
never went to the Bronze anymore, and rarely stayed in school. She was avoiding,
Willow figured, but avoiding what? If Buffy was avoiding Angelus, then she
wasn’t doing it very well – he wasn’t at school, so she should have stayed
there during the day. And yet she wasn’t.
Buffy did nothing but wander anymore, and more than once
she’d confessed to have come back from Willy’s
Bar. Willow had no idea what the
slayer could want at Willy’s, but when she asked, Buffy just shrugged. She
never said what her reasons were.
Then again, she
never said a lot, anymore, and Willow couldn’t blame her. Not really.
Somehow, Buffy made
it to a sporting event. It was the first time, in recent memory, Buffy managed
to go to one. She’d heard, for nearly a year now, how wonderful their
basketball team was, how great they were, late season or not. Buffy had no idea
what that meant, but Willow tried to explain the whole March Madness to her;
Buffy hadn’t cared, and they were in April now so what did it matter?
In any event, the
basketball team was better than the football team, but then they didn’t have
nearly as many strange deaths.
In retrospect, what
with everything that happened, her recent history with men, and the general air
of doom that seemed to follow her around, Buffy should’ve just stayed home.
She didn’t want
to talk to the guy. It wasn’t her fault she’d spaced, thinking she sensed
Angelus nearby. It wasn’t her fault that Willow and Cordelia surprised her
with an introduction to the center of the Bay-Side High School basketball team.
Buffy smiled, her teeth grinding together as she tried to make polite small talk
with the guy – what was his name again? God, she used to be so much better at
this whole dating thing – whose biggest word in their conversation was I’m.
Buffy didn’t bother telling him it was a contraction.
Looking over her
shoulder, Buffy thought she again sensed Angelus. But no one was there. Didn’t
matter, just talking to this guy was enough to put him in danger.
When the center of
the opposing team cornered her in the hallway and tried to feel her up, Buffy
kneed him in the groin, pulling back at the last second in case she kneed too
hard, and shoved him down the hallway. She really didn’t want to hit the boy,
what with the way her emotions were roller coastering around causing her
strength to fluctuate as well, Buffy didn’t want to do anything that could
endanger the guy.
But being groped by
him wasn’t on her agenda, either. So she settled for glaring at his fallen
form on her way back to the gym, missing the all too prevalent warning signs
that Angelus was there. Damn, she really was losing it.
Pissed, Buffy
missed the exit of the rest of the team and stalked out into the night, and met
back up with her friends. No one said a word at their obvious failed attempt to
set her up with someone.
“It’s your
fault,” Angelus laughed into the night. “It’s your fault that he’s going
to die. My poor Buffy, my little darling; your friends are going to be the death
of another one.”
The vampire was
angered himself as he watched his slayer leave the hallway. She ignored him.
Even though he knew she sensed his presence, Buffy ignored him. She actually let
this guy touch her even though he’d warned her enough for something like that
not to happen…again.
Standing, Lucas
Mallory forced a cocky grin onto his face as his friends exited the locker room
after their victory. “Hey, Luke, where were ya?”
“These Sunnydale
girls are quick,” Lucas smirked and everyone laughed. “This Buffy chick, she
was all over me, I don’t think this school’s doing it for her.”
The laughter
trailed back into the gym, and left Angelus fuming in the shadows. He gave them
a minute to pile into their bus and leave the grounds before following. The red
haze of anger never left him as he waited for just the right moment to exact his
vengeance. Stopping at a light a few miles from Sunnydale’s city limits,
Angelus casually strolled out of his car and tapped on the folding door of the
school bus.
The driver opened
the doors and asked, “What do you want?”
Ripping the doors
off their hinges, Angelus slipped into game face and let his anger consume him.
He didn’t say a word as he threw the driver out of the now gaping doors,
smiling as the sound of several breaking bones echoed back to him.
The team, their
coaches, cheerleaders, and waterboys, all gaped at the madman for too long of a
second. Those in the back managed to open the emergency door and were met with
Drusilla, also in her vampiric face and craving a meal of her own. She loved the
young ones. “Oooh, yummy…a present, thank you, daddy. Who’s first?”
“Now then,”
Angelus said, his eyes gleaming golden, his fangs glistening in the poorly lit
bus, his tall frame imposing and menacing. “Where’s Luke?”
‘High
School Basketball Team Slaughtered on Way Back from Regional Finals’
the headline read and Buffy promptly threw up the one slice of toast she’d
managed to eat. ‘Authorities have no
leads, but suspect rival gangs.’
The photo of the
school bus interior showed the message, ‘Gan
mhoill, a ghrá mo chroí’
and Buffy knew who did this. ‘Soon,
love of my heart.’
The balance of
death on her shoulders was precariously shifting, and she broke down sobbing in
the library, Willow, Xander, and Cordelia watching, unsure what to say. The
girls felt guilty about the deaths, wondering if their introduction to Lucas was
in anyway linked to the deaths of the entire team.
God, the whole
team…
Giles tried to
comfort her, letting her sob out her emotions as he gently rubbed her back, but
had no words to offer.
Drusilla and
Angelus watched from behind the back stacks. Angelus let the Watcher touch his
slayer; Giles was the only male who could, even though Angelus wanted to be the
one to lap up the overwhelming grief that poured from Buffy. But that was not to
be, and Giles ineffectual soothing only made Buffy sob harder. And Angelus’
erection grow harder. He pulled Drusilla against his front as they left,
grinding into her softness as Buffy’s sobs echoed through the sewers.
The master
vampire’s look of triumph made his crazed childe grin in expectation.
‘Geez,
he had to make a statement, didn’t he?’
‘Hush,
do you want to hear this or not?’
‘Yes,
Uncle, I do…but the whole team? Never does anything small, does he?’
‘Why should he? There’s no point; beside, he’s Angelus.’
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